Tamed

Chapter Five

Caleb sprawled across the massive bed, sweat rolling down his back. He was exhausted, but he knew better than to sleep, although very comfortable quarters had been provided for him. The Realm’s main lodge held an entire wing of guest suites, and his was masculine, with heavy furniture throughout the living area, kitchen, and bedroom.

He punched the pillow into a better shape. If he didn’t get some decent sleep, he wouldn’t be of use to anybody the next few days. Damn it. He really needed to get laid.

But every time he thought of finding a willing woman, his thoughts turned to a tiny blonde with a huge spirit who smelled like strawberries.

Even now, centuries after he’d courted her, he got hard every time he smelled a strawberry.

How fucked up was that?

Plus, there was no doubt the pretty prophet also occupied a suite somewhere in the massive lodge, somewhere close. Sleeping now . . . in what? What would the classy Lily wear? Probably a head-to-toe nightgown from the 1800s. He grinned at the thought.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his breathing, counting slowly in a method he’d learned from a monk two centuries ago. Most people wouldn’t believe one of his best friends was a monk, and he was just fine with that. Sometimes a guy needed depth, and he certainly didn’t need to share that aspect of himself with anybody.

Even Lily.

Damn it. He forgot to count.

He started over, and finally slipped into a sleep that included dreams of battle, of war, and of ocean voyages.

During the voyage, one he’d actually taken eons ago, the ocean suddenly turned black. Churning, deadly, angry, the water rose up to cover his boat.

He dropped into freezing cold darkness, knowing even as he did so that this was a new dream. One he couldn’t shield against.

So he dropped low and chose not to question how he could breathe at the bottom of the cold ocean.

Blackness swirled around him, brushed against him, but he couldn’t see. The chill fingered through his skin and muscles to his bones, digging deep with sharp nails.

Pain and fear roared through him, scratching inside his flesh.

He tried to awaken, and a voice in the darkness laughed in a distorted tone. “This is your future,” the voice said. “If you don’t fulfill your destiny, this is everybody’s future. Everyone you know, everyone you love. Darkness and pain.”

He tried to punch out, tried to kick, but the swirling vortex contained him. So easily, as if he were nothing better than a gnat in the air.

Down there, he was nothing.

“There is nothing,” the voice intoned. “Do. Your. Duty.”

“Which is?” he tried to yell, but his voice emerged weak, like a toddler’s.

“Janet Isabella Kayrs must die. To save humanity, to save everyone, the prophesied one must die.”

The water grew in force and stole his breath. He coughed, trying to get oxygen. Panic filled him. His skin heated. He struggled like a trout on the bottom of a boat, his mouth working, a silent scream seeking air.

Gasping, he sat up in the bed.

God. Oh God. Gulping, he sucked in as much air as he could. He panted and shoved the bedcovers to the floor. The cool air dried the sweat rolling off his body, and he shivered.

Taking a deep breath, he stood. His knees wobbled.

Preposterous. He was one of the most dangerous vampires alive in the world, and he could barely stand. From a dream. A nightmare.

He drew a shaking hand across his wet forehead. This was ridiculous. Feeling unbelievably chilled, he headed into the shower and let the scalding water wash away the remnants of the dream.

What the hell was going on?

When the water turned cold, he turned off the faucet and stepped outside to dry off. The stupid prophecy mark on his neck was turning him mad. He glared at the dark blue Celtic knot marking him for Fate. His was bigger and had sharper lines than Lily’s more gentle marking. Tying a towel at his waist, he padded out of the bathroom toward the kitchen. Maybe the king had stocked some whiskey for him.

A soft knock at the door nearly stopped his heart.

He shook his head at his scattered thoughts and strode forward to answer the door.

Lily Sotheby stood on the other side, her blond hair wild around her shoulders, her midnight-colored eyes wide. “I require a clear head.”

Shock kept him immobile for the briefest of seconds. He glanced down at her tank top and black yoga pants and actually took a step back. The top outlined pert breasts, while the pants showed small but toned legs. Lily Sotheby was out of a skirt.

She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

He bit down desire and gestured inside the living room. “Come in, Lily.”

She glanced at his bare chest and swallowed. Loudly. “Ah, I—”

He took her arm and all but pulled her into his suite. Even so, she moved gracefully past him and faltered. “I’m sorry to bother you. It’s merely—”

Good God from heaven above. Her ass was everything he’d ever hoped and more. Curvy, tight, she filled out the tight pants like she ran on treadmills all day. He tried to force his dick to remain calm. Mindful of her much smaller bones, he wrapped a hand around her bicep and turned her to face him. “It’s okay. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She shook her head, distress in every line of her body. “This is so silly. I’m silly. Please go back to, ah, the shower?” Her gaze dropped to his tenting towel, and a fine pink flushed across her smooth cheekbones.

“I had a bad dream and showered to clear my head.” He drew her toward the couch and settled her down. “If you’d like, I’ll go throw on some clothes.”

She breathed in sharply, lifted her chin, that intelligent gaze direct. “What kind of a bad dream?”

Shit. He ran a ragged hand through his wet hair. This was worse than he’d feared. “Don’t tell me. You’ve been having nightmares, as well?”

Her hands trembled as she clasped them in her lap. “Yes,” she whispered. “About Janie.”

“Fuck.” He dropped to the couch, the towel sliding to the floor.

“Caleb!” Lily’s gaze darted away as the pink turned to a full-on red across her face.

He coughed. “Uh, sorry. Be right back.” Standing, he turned and strode toward the bedroom to yank on a worn pair of jeans with a grimace. He was half-hard just from Lily’s scent, and the jeans were damn uncomfortable. Glancing down at his bare chest, he shrugged. The important parts were covered.

With a ton of stones dropping like weights onto his shoulders, his sense of foreboding dark, he headed into the living room to figure out what the hell was going on.

Lily’s breath heated, and her thighs trembled. Naked, Caleb was the most impressive man she’d ever seen. After being a counselor and even a part-time nurse the past centuries as a prophet, she’d seen nude men.

Not one compared to the Realm Rebel.

Good Lord.

Needing to put her hands on something, anything but the hard body that had just exited the room, she grabbed the damp towel from the floor and folded the thick terry cloth into precise lines. Her world was spinning out of control, and once again duty required more than she could imagine giving.

He stalked back into the room, having donned ripped jeans that weren’t fastened at the top. Broad and strong, his chest held impressive muscles, as did his arms. A happy trail, or so she believed it was now called, arrowed down his ripped abs, leading to what she now knew was a well-endowed cock.

Not penis. Not dick. That was a cock.

She cleared her throat and held out the folded towel, her hands trembling. “Thank you for getting dressed.” Could she sound any more formal? Sometimes she wished more than anything she could be free. Could be somebody other than a prophet.

“Of course.” He sighed wearily, took the towel, and tossed it on top of a wooden coffee table as he sat next to her on the sofa.

Lily opened her mouth to object since the wood shouldn’t get wet, but no sound came out. The coffee table was of little importance compared to what she was beginning to believe was happening. “I keep having dreams that I should kill Janie Kayrs.” There. She’d said it—finally confessed to somebody.

“Damn it.” Caleb stretched long legs out, his feet on the towel. “Me, too. Scary, over-the-top, bizarre dreams saying that the only way to save humanity is to kill Janie.”

Lily covered her eyes with her hands. She had always followed her duty. Always believed in the paths created by faith and destiny. “This can’t be happening.”

“Have you ever had visions like this before?” Caleb gently drew her hands from her face.

“Sometimes,” she whispered. His one hand completely enclosed hers in warmth and strength. “I’ve had visions throughout the centuries of people I need to seek out and help, or even conversations I need to attend to avoid war. I’ve always followed the visions.”

Caleb blinked. “Have you ever had a vision telling you to kill somebody?”

“No.” In fact, she’d never had one inciting violence. “This doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.”

“This is the first time I’ve had vision-type dreams.” Caleb’s thumb rubbed circles across the pulse in her wrist.

The pulse increased.

She drew in air, trying to calm herself. Broad and dangerous, Caleb drew her in ways that were anything but proper. “I can’t help but think that dreams haunted Prophet Milner. We could’ve helped him instead of letting the king kill him.”

Caleb shrugged. “Dage didn’t have a choice. Milner was going to kill the queen, so Dage killed him. Making me a damn prophet, I might add. We need to concentrate on right here and right now. Why are we having these dreams, and what do they mean?”

“Well, if you believe in Fate, then Fate is giving us instructions.” Lily couldn’t believe any Fate would want Janie wiped from the earth. But life often took odd turns, and Lily was ever mindful of duty. Even if duty hurt and ultimately ended in her death. But the death of a friend? Was she strong enough to make that happen?

“I don’t believe in Fate.” Caleb rubbed his scruffy jaw with his free hand. “I’m more concerned about anybody else getting these nightmare instructions. I figured if it was just me, then this whole prophecy thing was getting to me. But if two of us are being haunted, then there may be more people.”

“I think Prophet Guiles is having nightmares, too, but I didn’t ask for details,” Lily said.

“We’ll need to talk to him.” Caleb nodded. “I’d like to say we should notify the king, but we can’t.”

Lily gulped. Would Caleb agree to kill Janie if the Fates demanded it? “Why not?” she whispered.

“Because he’ll demand we bow out of the peace talks—if he doesn’t have us both sent into exile somewhere. He’ll do anything to protect his niece.”

“I don’t blame him,” Lily said.

“Me, either. But we need to figure out what’s going on in order to stop it, and I’m needed at the peace talks. While you and the king have decided you should be there, I’d like to figure out a way for you to attend via teleconference.”

The man was trying to protect her, so she should stop thinking about punching him in the head. “I’m attending the talks. Get over the big-man-protecting-the-little-prophet attitude before I have you banned.” There. That was a decent threat.

He didn’t seem fazed, if the twinkle in his eye said anything. “We’ll talk about it later. For now, tell me about your dream. All of it.”

She sucked in air, grateful Caleb still held her hand. “I keep walking in a dark forest, then it gets darker, and then some weird voice tells me that Janet Isabella Kayrs must die, or we all die. The entire world will die. Then I try to wake up, and I can’t breathe.”

Caleb nodded. “Mine is underwater, but the same concept. In the past, when you’ve had visions, have they been similar?”

“No. They’ve been more intuition, or a realization I’ve had once in a dream. Never a dictate or an order.” Lily tried to keep her gaze off the light sprinkling of hair across his chest. So masculine, so vital.

Her husband had been centuries old and more interested in her mind than her body. He’d been a great friend, and she’d grieved his loss.

But she’d never felt on fire for a man. Until now.

Caleb nodded. “This is different and new for us both. Our first step is to pin down Prophet Guiles and make sure he’s not getting the same visions. Although you talked to him, I’d like to probe a bit deeper. Then we’ll decide our next move.”

“What if there isn’t a next move? I mean, what if the vision is true . . . that Janie will bring down the world?” Lily hated even saying the words, and something in her chest twisted.

His jaw tightened. “They’re not true. I don’t understand what’s going on, but we’ll fix it. I promise.”

That was what Lily had wanted when she’d knocked on Caleb’s door after the nightmare. A sense of purpose and a way to deal with the fear. The ball of dread in her stomach finally started to dissipate. They had a plan, and they’d figure out a way to save both Janie and the world. Lily allowed herself a moment to feel safe.

His thumb caught the earring on her earlobe. “I like seeing these on you.”

“I haven’t taken them off,” she whispered. She felt closer to him every time she saw the diamond earrings in the mirror. He’d chosen them. Just for her.

A clock ticked quietly on the mantle as the late hour pressed in. Intimacy slid through the room. They were both nearly unclothed, and propriety demanded she take her leave from Caleb’s quarters. Yet she remained on the sofa. Sometimes the loneliness of her position chilled her until she shivered. She was so tired of being alone.

The scent of soap and male swirled through the air along with power. Lily finally allowed Caleb’s warmth to relax her shoulders. “Do you like being called the Realm Rebel?” she asked softly.

His upper lip curved. “I don’t have an opinion either way, but to be honest, I’ve been called worse.”

She smiled. “I’m sure of that.”

He leaned toward her, his hold strengthening. “Do you regret your choices so long ago?”

Her gaze dropped to his full lips. “Regret us? I mean, marrying Sotheby?”

“Yes.”

She traced the hard line of Caleb’s jaw with her gaze. She and Caleb had only courted for a couple of weeks and shared one kiss before her father had betrothed her to Prophet Miles Sotheby. Caleb had been furious and had asked her to run away with him. She’d chosen duty. “I don’t have any regrets.”

“I see.” His voice roughened.

“But I have wondered. About you, about us, about what we could’ve had. Who we could’ve been.” She didn’t know how to lie, and he deserved the truth. Even if it made her vulnerable.

He reached out and cupped her cheek, running his long fingers through her hair. “I’ve wondered, too.”

“Do you understand why I chose duty?” She’d always wanted him to understand, to forgive her.

His multicolored gaze met hers. “I’ve always understood who you are, Lily Sotheby. Duty called you, and you stepped up. You were destined to be a prophet, and you’ve fulfilled your destiny admirably.”

What if destiny required her to kill a friend? Could she do that? She swallowed. “I’ve always hoped you would find happiness.”

“I’m a soldier—made for war. Happiness was a fleeting wish when I was young and foolish.”

She leaned into the heated strength of his palm. “What if we find peace?”

His grin held both amusement and regret. “Peace is always temporary, now, isn’t it?”

Unfortunately, based on her observation of life, that was a true statement. “What’s permanent, Caleb?”

His eyes flashed a metallic gray, and he drew her toward him. Tension crackled through the room. “This.”

Warm and firm, his lips covered hers. Burning hotter than possible, lava flowed through her veins, through her flesh. His touch singed her with need and hunger.

She moaned and pressed against him, her free hand spreading across the hard muscles in his chest. They vibrated beneath her palm, sending matching vibrations straight to her sex.

The hand in her hair tangled, tightened, angling her head to the side. His tongue swept inside her mouth, tasting of mint and male. All Caleb.

Timidly, she brushed her tongue against his.

His chest drew in a deep breath, rising against her hand. With a low growl, he went deeper, sending her senses reeling. His body met hers, trapping her hand, as he leaned her against the armrest of the sofa.

Her head spun, while liquid need spread through her. Want and need combusted into a hunger that caught her unaware. Unprepared.

All she could do was feel.

Her head hit the armrest, and he yanked her hips under him, covering her, groin to groin.

Fire unfurled in her abdomen, and her sex clenched.

Hard. He was so hard. Neither her pants nor his jeans were a barrier to his heated shaft. He pulsed against her, so full, so ready. Every movement sent electricity through her, making her crave him with a desperation she’d never felt.

He tore his mouth from hers, placing heated kisses along her jawline to her ear, where he bit down.

She gasped, her eyes widening.

Pausing, he levered himself above her, his eyes now bright with metallic colors. Brighter than normal. “I can’t treat you like some breakable doll, Lily. If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

Hope and need flushed through her. “Please don’t treat me like I’m breakable.” The plea came from deeper than the moment, deeper than her consciousness. For once in her life, she needed to be real. To be a woman. A woman with Caleb.

A dark flush highlighted his dangerous cheekbones. Then a smile full of sin curved his lips. “I promise.” Twin fangs dropped low, and quick as a whip, he sank them into her neck.

She cried out, her body arching, an unbelievable need reducing her to a craving too dark to withstand. Yanking her hand free, she reached around him to caress his flanks. So strong, so male, so muscled. Even for a vampire, the rebel’s hardness was extraordinary.

The fleeting thought occurred to her that by biting her, he could mate her. If they were joined, and if she wasn’t suffering from the devastating virus. As things stood, there’d be no mating, and that was a good thing. Talk about complications.

Even so, as he drank, such need cascaded from him that her breath deserted her. He rolled his hips against her cleft, and she bit her lip to keep from begging. The devastating ache between her legs overwhelmed her.

Slowly, with a hum of appreciation, he retracted his fangs and licked the wound closed. “You really do taste like strawberries.” Wonder and a deep hunger roughened his voice.

For the first time, she wished she could be a vampire. Could taste him. So she settled for the next best thing and licked her way up the corded muscles in his neck. Man and salt . . . all Caleb. She’d had dreams of him, of licking him, of tasting him. The reality was better than any dream.

He kissed her again, going deep, spiraling her body into overdrive. Finally, he released her. Quickly standing with the grace of any shifter, he leaned down and lifted her.

The world spun and then settled in incredibly strong arms.

His lips wandered over her forehead. “Please stay, Lily.”

She gulped in air, mentally listing the reasons she should return to her suite. Not only was this a bad idea, but the timing stank. She’d always been proper, always been a lady. Ladies didn’t do this kind of thing. But the urgent cloud of doubt and despair that had been swirling around her had finally abated. For the briefest of moments, she felt peace. For once, destiny quieted and allowed her to be a real, flesh-and-blood woman. In Caleb’s arms.

As he awaited her acquiescence, his eyes remained bright, swirling with secondary colors, the color a vampire’s eyes turned when he was furious or aroused, and only one answer came to Lily’s mind.

“I’ll stay,” she whispered.