Immortals After Dark 12 - Lothaire

Everything’s all right now, you’re safe with me.”
    “I-I’m a vampire ?” Open mind, open mind.
    While she stood dumbly, he held her hands, pressing one of his fingertips against her claw, seeming delighted with its sharpness.
    “And look at your little fangs.” His voice went hoarse. “Ah, Lizvetta, I could come just looking at them. You are perfect in every way.”
    He sounded like a boy with a new toy—while she was raw with loss, sick with confusion.
    Emotions erupted within her, impulses she didn’t understand. Her thoughts raced. Hate him! Love him? Need to taste him. Drink me!
    Never had her body felt less like her own. Not even when Saroya had lived inside it.
    He could change me back with that ring. If she gave him reason to, if she scared him enough . . .
    “Be at ease.” He cradled her face. “Now nothing will separate us.”
    “Hold me?” she murmured.
    “Ah, anything!” He drew her tight against him, tucking her head under his chin. “Now I don’t have to fear hurting you.”
    Hate him. . . . Love him. . . . His scent! “Lothaire, I-I need you.”

    “You couldn’t make me happier, Elizabeth.” Now that she was undying, Lothaire could finally acknowledge what he felt for her, could stop fighting it at last.
    When she twined her fingers behind his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest, he rasped, “This is just another sign that your transformation was flawless—vampires are notoriously lusty creatures.”
    She raised herself on her toes to kiss his chest in the V of his shirt, nuzzling—
    Her fangs pierced him.
    Pleasure such as he’d never known jolted through his body. “Uhn! Elizavetta!” When she moaned and sucked, his mind briefly blanked. . . .
    “No!” he roared, prying her bite free. “You drank from the flesh, from me .” He grabbed her shoulders, still hazy with lust after her bite—even as alarm filled him. “Do you not know how wrong my mind is? How poisoned with memories? And I’ve no doubt you’re a cosaş like me!”
    “Turn me back!” she screamed, her irises solid black with emotion, blood trailing from the corner of her lips. “Or I’ll go insane!”
    He shook his head hard. “I’d meant . . . I’d meant to ease you into drinking with a mere drop on your tongue. To teach you to love it. But you tapped the font your first time out.”
    “So change me back!”
    “I’d considered this possibility, had played with the idea of using another wish to make you immune to my blood. After all, you were bound to take it directly from me sooner or later. But then, I’d also wanted both thrones.” He exhaled. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” Raising his hand, he twisted the ring on his finger. “Whenever my Bride drinks from me, she will harvest only my memories made from this night forward. None of my victims’ memories will ever affect her, nor mine from my past.”
    Her face fell, and she swayed on her feet.
    “Well, Elizabeth, that just cost us a kingdom. And yet . . . the outcome is necessary. We don’t usually feed from our own, but now you can drink from me. You will drink only from me.”
    His blood taken from the flesh would make her even stronger. And now they had a bridge between them. Unbreakable ties.
    “I could have wished that you took no memories,” he continued, “but I want you to know my acts, to see my bravery in battle as I fight for you and our young. I want you to be prideful of your male.”
    And every day, she would dream of his feelings for her—experiencing how sharp they were, how his obsession only continued to grow.
    That bond would make his life easier. He had little knowledge of relationships, of going about a life united with another, of discussing his feelings. Now he would have no need to learn.
    She’d simply know his mind as well as he did.
    Her lips moved wordlessly.
    “I will be everything you need, will nourish you.” She’d had a meager sip before; now he intended to feed her thoroughly.
    The thought of her taking her fill from his body, her new fangs sinking deeper into his flesh . . .
    His cock swelled so swiftly he had to stifle a groan. Perhaps, he could revisit his plots and schemes after he’d claimed and fed his vampire Bride.
    Her gaze darted as she cast about for another recourse. He would make sure she had none.
    Yet then, her tongue daubed at the blood on her lips. The taste made her wild eyes grow hooded, her breaths shallowing. “L-Lothaire?”
    He could hear