Page 144 of Dhampira

It took a minute before I found my voice. “No one else?”

Lorcan shook his head. Then his eyes went serious. “Maybe it’s tied to your dhampir blood. Wherever it comes from, it has to stay between us…and Vander. If Rasimir discovers that you can see my scars, he’ll drain you. He’s been cautious until now because we don’t know much about your power. But fireborn blood is rare. The gifts it brings dwindle the same as my people. You see the scars. What if you eventually gain a fireborn’s shape-shifting magic, especially if you drink from me? Rasimir is greedy for it.” Lorcan’s mouth tightened. “He uses it to muzzle the witches.”

“The gauntlets and mouth coverings?” I asked, the grotesque images from the dungeon rising in my mind.

Lorcan nodded. “He couldn’t have conquered the witches without them. The covens were too powerful.” His expression darkened. “Rasimir experimented for years, twisting our shape-shifting magic into something obscene. He combined it with the vor scapa, perverting both kinds of power until he created the muzzles and gauntlets. The witches can’t speak rix to break them because they’re not purely witch magic anymore. And no one else can remove them. Just Rasimir. It ensures he maintains absolute power.” Lorcan’s voice went cold. “If my people didn’t already hate him for destroying us, they would hate him for corrupting our gifts.”

One thing in particular gave me pause. Rasimir is greedy for it. Dots connected in my head. Rasimir wanted fireborn blood—and Lorcan had it. The revelation settled over me like a heavy weight.

“He drains you,” I said. “All the times he’s summoned you. After dinners. After the ball. The night I tried to escape. He dislocated your shoulder.” My voice caught, angry tears rushing to my eyes.

“Shh,” Lorcan said, kissing the corner of my eye before the moisture could escape. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not.” I pushed him away so I could look at him. “It’s wrong, and I’m going to do something about it.”

“And I’m going to help you. But for now, we have to keep being careful. We’re stronger now that we’re joined.”

I bit my lip. We were definitely joined.

Lorcan’s dark eyes made a slow journey from my mouth to my breasts. When he finally met my eyes again, his cock was hard inside me. “Do you know what I’m thinking?” he murmured.

Normally, he was far too good at hiding for me to be certain. But this time…“I might have an idea,” I said. “But why don’t you tell me anyway.”

Smiling, he rose above me. Then he grabbed me around the thighs and yanked me against him, his shaft lodging so deep that I gasped. Stretching my arms over my head, he laced his fingers with mine.

“I was thinking that we don’t have to win any wars tonight.” He bent over me, his long hair swinging over my breasts. “So we should make the most of our time.”

29

Iwoke to the sound of splashing water.

Sitting up, I blinked against the morning sunlight as the splashing grew louder. Rumpled sheets surrounded me, and Lorcan’s scent filled my lungs.

My husband’s scent filled my lungs.

The husband in question emerged from behind a wooden screen with a white towel slung low on his hips. Wet hair streamed over his shoulders, and several dark strands stuck to his smooth chest.

My sex clenched, and a novel kind of soreness reminded me exactly how I’d spent the night. Lorcan had tested a few more angles, putting me on my hands and knees and burying his face between my legs from behind. The surge of pleasure had sent me faceplanting into the pillows, my ass thrust high.

“Stay just like that,” he’d growled, his tongue moving faster. “I think I like this angle the best.”

A few hours later, he had rescinded the statement. Flat on his back, he’d settled me astride him and worked his cock inside me. “Oh, yes, this one is better.”

“There’s water in the basin,” he said now, his voice clipped. He moved past the bed without sparing me a second glance, and he said nothing as he opened a large wardrobe and started pulling out clothes.

Confusion and anger stirring, I threw back the blankets and swung my legs over the bed. My gaze landed on Lorcan’s discarded boots, and I froze.

Got lucky, he said in my memory, a smile dancing in his eyes.

Last night, his boots had almost dropped past the edge of Vander’s ward. Lorcan stood beyond it now, his wet hair cascading down his scarred back. He played a role, his demeanor that of the cold, cruel prince.

Because someone was always watching.

Lorcan dropped the towel. My gaze locked on his rounded buttocks, my mouth practically watering.

Actually, no, it was watering. Gods, I was in serious trouble. Maybe Marrigan had a point.

As soon as that thought landed, I shoved it away. Marrigan was a bitch. I didn’t care what she thought of me.