Seeds of Sorrow (Immortal Realms Book 1)

Her soft voice panting out his name stripped any hesitation from Draven’s mind, leaving him with a well of desire he hadn’t realized had grown so deep. With her fingers in his hair, causing pleasurable tingles at every light tug, Draven allowed one of his hands to drop to the swell of her bottom, sliding down to curve around the back of her thigh so that he could pull her leg up his hip a little. Pressing in against her core, he cursed the heavy skirts in his way, preventing him from making a true connection with her.

She tasted of wine and innocence, unsure kisses slowly shifting into heated drags of exploration and need. A moan tore from his throat as he parted her lips, dragging his tongue along her tentatively seeking one. Eden was honey and sweetness, coating him with a need that burned deep into his bones.

Shifting quickly, Draven pressed Eden back into the wall. It wasn’t enough. Too much space remained between them still. Draven dropped his hands to her full skirts and quickly pulled them up so that his fingers could slip beneath, gliding over the silken feel of her bare thighs. Wrapping around the backs of them just beneath her bottom, Draven hoisted her up onto his hips.

Fitting himself between her thighs as if they were a cradle crafted for him alone, Draven’s hips rocked against that tender place between them, and he felt a thrill go through him at her ragged whimper in response. The desire in his own blood seemed to triple with the action, as the heat of her liquid center pressed back against his aching shaft. The pleasure coursing through him at just this simple act was unnaturally good.

“By the moon.” Draven’s voice was harsh against his own ears, throat tight with need. “Eden . . . ” It was overwhelming.

“Touch me,” she pleaded, her lids heavy over her eyes, chest heaving with each breath she took.

It was a plea he could not ignore.

His head dipped toward the silky breasts that had been torturing him all evening, lips brushing over the rounded curve of first one, then the other. Eden’s fingers tightened in his hair, pulling on the auburn strands as she released a breathy moan of pleasure. In response, his lips parted, gently sucking some of the flesh between them for his tongue to glide over. He wanted to go deeper, to pull her free of the tight corset and tease the tiny beads of her nipples to hard peaks. To feel her squirm against him as her breath hitched.

And so, he did. Hips pressing her back into the wall, Draven’s hands lifted to grasp at the corset that bound her and, with an easy motion, ripped it down the middle. Gasping, Eden stared at him with desire-laced eyes and kiss-swollen lips.

“By the sun, thank you. I hated that thing.”

Smirking, Draven dropped his gaze to her heaving chest, which was now left free beneath the neckline of her gown. Pulling the dark plum fabric down, he was greeted with the hard peaks of her nipples. Answering their call, Draven dipped his head to capture one between his lips, pinching the tiny bead between his teeth. The action wrenched a cry of pleasure from Eden in response, and her nails clawed at the back of his neck, scraping at flesh that wanted her abuse.

Draven kissed his way over the swell of the first breast, across the valley between and made his way to the second. Eden’s back arched, pushing her flesh into his mouth, and she whined in delight as his lips fastened on the next nipple, sucking firmly until she wriggled against him.

His name was a harsh moan on her tongue that left Draven groaning and straining unbearably against the tight cloth of his trousers. He was dizzy with desire, each gasp and moan of pleasure from Eden setting his body on fire.

 Reaching back, he drew her hands from his hair, lifting them up to pin against the stone wall above her head. His lips then began a heated course up her chest, tasting every inch of flesh now bared to his needy mouth.

Draven kissed over her collarbone, to the tender hollow of her throat and then up the pale expanse of it. Fighting a moan, his fangs gently scraped over the soft flesh at her pulse, the quickened beat of her heart sounding in his ears and her tantalizing scent overriding his senses. Draven wanted to sink into her, in every sense of the word. Feel her needy body welcome him in while her blood coursed over his tongue.

He was seconds from tearing open his trousers and thrusting into her, Eden’s breathy moans sounding in his ears as his mouth worked its way up her neck, when a thrill of pleasure coursed through him that he realized was not his own.

Freezing, Draven inhaled Eden’s scent once more and groaned. She rocked against him needily, her chest still rising quickly with her excitement.

“Draven . . . ” Confusion laced her words, her hips pressing to his in a silent plea for relief.

“You smell of me . . . ” he rasped.

Quickly he slid her back down to the floor and stepped back, separating them as his mind reeled. A hand tore through his hair, his body protesting at being drawn from its source of pleasure.

“What?” Eden, still leaning against the wall, let her hands drop down to her sides. Her lips bruised from his kisses.

“You’ve had my blood.” His words didn’t make sense, even as he said them, but he knew that they were true.

“No.” Eden was shaking her head, brow furrowed. “No, I haven’t.”

“You have. I can smell it on you . . . ” He took a further step back, needing to separate himself from the call of her body to his, the thrum of her desire mixing with his own. By the moon . . . I want her. But he couldn’t trust that her desire was real, not with the influence of vampire blood coursing through her body.

“I don’t understand.” She was flushed, the heat in her cheeks melding with the marks his lips had left over her skin.

Draven turned away from Eden, needing to put more distance between them, needing to clear his mind enough of the fog of lust so that he could think.

“Somehow, you’ve been laced with my blood. It’s in your veins, and I can feel your emotions in my mind.” He growled, anger rising up to take over the desire. How had it happened, and who had dared do it?

“You can . . . feel me?” There was embarrassment in her voice.

Draven shut his eyes, a hand drawing over his face as he seethed. “Yes. And what you’re feeling isn’t real, it’s an effect of the blood bond.”

She hadn’t been given much, just enough to increase her desire and leave her turning toward the vampire whose blood she had tasted. A handy trick of nature to aid a vampire in hunting and breeding. It was much easier to feed or to turn another if they were a panting mess instead of a screaming one.

“Yes, it is,” Eden insisted softly.

Turning back, Draven studied her, confused.

“It is what?”

“It’s real.” Her green eyes peered at him, wide and full of honesty, before her hands rose to hide her face, perhaps out of embarrassment or shame.

“Eden—” he began but was cut off by her escape.

Quickly, she turned and fled down the hall, leaving only a trail of her heated scent and the matching desire still humming through his own body.

Cursing, Draven struck the wall where she had been pressed, cracking the stone and causing pieces to crumble to the floor.

She had eaten and drank only what had been offered to her at the ball, items prepared by his own household. Everything she had consumed had been at his side. How had this been done to her? And a better question was, how had they managed to get some of his blood without his knowledge?

Draven’s body straightened as his mind cleared.

“Gruff!!” he roared, his voice echoing off the arched ceilings above him.

With quick, angry strides, he made his way back to the ballroom, shoving the doors open so harshly they banged against the inside walls. It was enough commotion to have everyone turning to look at him. Draven ignored them, heading straight for the long buffet table where the goblins had spent most of the night. In one swift motion he upturned the table, sending it flying across the room to crash into the wall, silver dishes rolling across the floor.

There were five goblins beneath the table. Not a one of them was the little vermin who had bit him. Grabbing up the goblin nearest him while the others scattered, Draven brought it close to his face.

“Who made him do it?” he growled low, blue eyes gleaming as he squeezed it tight.

The goblin let out a high-pitched squeal, wriggling against his fingers, small nails digging into him as it fought.

Knowing he would get nothing from it, he tossed it aside, his eyes narrowing on the crowd of people, who stared at him in shocked silence.

“Tonight, someone committed an act of treason against my soon-to-be queen. When I find out who it was, they will be killed on sight without question. Anyone found to have helped them will also meet the final death.”

Shocked gasps rang out around him, eyes shifting back and forth as guests questioned who could possibly be the guilty party.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening.” The smile he gave them was slow and deadly. With a sharp turn on his toe, Draven left the ballroom.

Something was going on in Andhera, and it didn’t sit well with him. Fledglings being made without his consent. Someone using goblins to steal his blood, only to then turn around and use it on Eden.

Draven had struggled too hard for peace and control here in the dark realm to see it all come undone again. He would get to the bottom of this.

His emotions and hunger still far too riotous within him to control, Draven made his way down into the bowels of the castle, where the human captives were kept chained up in the dungeons. Gliding past the were-wolves on guard, Draven stepped up to the first cell. With the glide of one hand over the lock, it unlatched, and the door swung open before him.

Inside, two humans cowered in fear, their eyes bright in pale faces.

“P-please . . . no . . . ” one stammered, his chains rattling as he pressed back into the wall behind him.

“Unfortunately for you, the entire reason you’re here is for this.” Crossing the dungeon, Draven clutched the back of his head with one hand and the front of his shirt with the other.

Pulling the man’s head back sharply, he lashed out, sinking his fangs into the column of the man’s throat.

The blood exploded into his mouth like a fountain. While his body raged, the anger and need were soothed by those first drags of coppery liquid, coating his tongue and streaming down his throat. Drinking greedily, he tasted the fear and fight in the prisoner, who pushed against his chest, moaning in pain until at last succumbing to the venom of his bite and stilling.

 They weren’t the moans Draven wanted to hear, but they were the moans he would accept tonight. He fed until the need in him was sated enough that he could feel rational thought returning. Pulling from the man, he released him and watched as he dropped weakly to his knees.

Stepping back, Draven wiped a drop of blood from the corner of his lips with the tip of his middle finger, then slowly licked it off. “You can be sent home tomorrow,” he stated softly. “But remember what actions brought you here.”