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He’d patrolled Ashleaf through the night with his Vampire Guard, hunting for sign of the enemy, the dreaded Invictus wraith-pairs. But his realm was mercifully quiet and he’d sent his Guard home for the night.
The time had come.
And at nearly the same moment that he decided to move, as though somehow intuiting his intentions, she levitated out of the pool and started to dry off with her towel. He nearly passed out at the sight of her exquisite and completely naked body.
“Willow,” he called softly. “Don’t run this time. I just want to talk.”
She lifted her head, paused for about a split-second to meet his gaze, then spun around and took off. She half-ran, half-levitated, shifting side-to-side to avoid branches and thorny vines as she headed up a north trail.
He flew after her, his three hundred years of living in Ashleaf Realm equal to her deft maneuvers. She sped over waterfalls and down streams and gullies, her nakedness a creamy flash in the night.
The whole time, the scent of her desire trailed after her, letting him know exactly what these encounters meant to her.
Yet he knew so damn little about the woman as she hit a path to the west that veered quickly to the south. Her strategy might change, but she always led him back to that enormous vine-shrouded arbor above the gate to her property. If he didn’t catch her, she’d disappear into the vines, dawn would come way too soon, and he’d have to leave yet again without capturing his prize.
On he sped, sometimes losing sight of her because she was so fast. Even as he reached a fork with several paths, he only had to sniff the air to know which route to take.
He ate up the few miles, sweating furiously in his Guardsmen leather coat despite it was sleeveless. But he wouldn’t have stopped for the world.
He reached for her telepathically, yet couldn’t connect because the woman could block him. Exactly how much power did this fae hold? Possibly more than even Alexandra the Bad, the leader of the Ashleaf Fae Guild.
As her gate loomed, he started closing in. She’d grown fatigued. Part of her energy was still focused elsewhere as he gave chase. He didn’t understand what she was concentrating on so heavily.
If only she’d just talk to him; he had so many questions.
He was within fifteen feet … ten … sweet Goddess, only three feet, but there was the damn vine-covered arbor and gate, the place she would disappear. If she reached it, he’d be unable to find her.
He reached out, put on some speed and his fingers trailed down her red hair, half-dry now from running.
But she ran straight into the vines and like at least three dozen times before, she simply vanished.
He flew over the gate to the other side, but he knew she wouldn’t be there. Was she really somewhere inside the vines? How was that even possible? Yet, she had to be because he could smell her and she was close.
“Willow, I must talk to you. I don’t mean you any harm. I promise you. Won’t you speak to me, just once?”
~ ~ ~
Hidden safely within the cocoon of the vines and her hands wrapped around two thick stems, Willow breathed hard.
Malik. Dear sweet Goddess. Malik.
His name was a mantra within her mind, something she called to over and over. But he never heard her. She would never let him hear her need, her desperation, her longing for him.
Did she want to speak to him, even just once?
Yes, yes, yes.
And he was so close; she could have touched him. Sweat poured down his face and he wiped it away with the sleeve of the woven shirt he wore, the traditional shirt of all Vampire Guardsmen.
“Willow, please.” His deep voice reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. “Give me a chance. There’s something here between us, something important, maybe even realm-based. But how can we figure this out, if you won’t even talk to me?”
The plaintive sound of his words clawed at her soul, but she closed her eyes and shored up her resistance to him. He didn’t know, couldn’t know, that she longed to give in, that she wanted more than anything to show herself and to tell him why she couldn’t open up to him.
But she was sworn to secrecy and couldn’t violate her vows. So many wraiths depended on her.
The minutes wore on and because dawn was so close, she knew he had to leave, had to return to his home in order to avoid the sun. Her situation wasn’t much different. As a fae, she needed to be inside during the daylight hours.
But if caught outside, she could hide herself in the vines, a sac
