Rebecca Zanetti: Claimed

What might have been.

Grasping her sagging blouse with both hands, he tugged. The remaining buttons scattered across hard-packed earth. She gasped, forgetting all about the future.

Only the present mattered.

He slid her shirt off followed by the straps of her bra. “I think I can entertain us both without marking or invading—at least for tonight.” His hands went to her breasts, molding, exploring, appreciating. “You’re so pretty, love.”

A pure flush of desire rose from those breasts to her face. She ran her palms down the hard muscles of his chest to his tight abs. Finally. She was finally touching him. So much strength—truly worthy of a king.

She yanked free the button of his pants, and her gaze met his while she released his zipper. Her breath came in short bursts. She was more than a match for the leader, as he would soon see. Emma leaned forward to nibble on the sizzling skin she’d dreamed about. The reality tasted even better. Smooth, salty man tantalized her when she nipped at his collarbone. Then bit.

He growled low, hands going to her waist to tug her to the ground. She opened her senses to him. His heartbeat echoed throughout her own head, and then ... he stilled.

His head lifted and he scented the air. Slamming his metallic eyes shut, he swore. He grabbed her shirt and yanked it up her arms, holding tight to the front.

“What is it?” Her stomach dropped in fear. “Did the Kurjans find us?”

“Worse.” Dage shifted her to the side and stood, lending a hand to help her up.

Two men crowded the entrance to the cave—the men from her dreams. “Your brothers?”

“Yes.”

Her mind spun. A hollowness echoed throughout her body that might never be filled. “How is that worse?” She took his hand, holding her shirt together with trembling fingers.

“Because I can’t kill them,” Dage said grimly, pulling her forward. He nodded at the green-eyed brother in the lead. “It’s nice to know you followed orders and went to secure the facilities as needed.” He shifted his focus to the copper-eyed brother. “One word Jase, and I’ll rip out your jugular.”

Jase wisely kept silent, though the twinkle in those eyes laughed hard enough to make sound.

The first man threw caution to the wind. “Hi Emma. I’m Conn.” He clapped Dage on the back. “We couldn’t let the king miss the ball, now could we?”

Ball? What ball?

Dage tugged on his onyx cuff links as he dressed in the family quarters, fury sliding under his skin. To be so close as to actually taste her ...

“Conn and Jase have made themselves scarce somewhere in this damn hotel,” his brother Talen noted, yanking on a black bow tie.

Dage couldn’t help but smile. Forcing Talen into a tuxedo was like making a leopard wear a tutu. His brother was made for flak jackets and combat boots. “You look pretty in a tux, brother. Your mate will sigh with joy.”

The good natured punch from Talen would’ve killed a human. “Shut up. By the way, that’s a lovely marking on your palm.”

The marking ached like a raw tooth and had since appearing the previous night. It needed to find a home on Emma’s flesh. Now. “She doesn’t want to be marked.” The words hurt to say. He hadn’t seen her since handing her off to Cara for much needed rest because he’d been swamped with Realm business all day.

Talen grinned. “Can’t blame her. Branding is archaic, neanderthalic, and absurd.”

“Neanderthalic? Cara makes up her own words, I see.” Damn but Dage adored his sister-in-law. He clasped his long dark hair at his nape, then straightened his black jacket, his gaze sweeping the plush executive suite with its thick carpet and rounded beige chairs. The hotel smell of lemon cleanser began to irritate him.

“Yeah, I know.” Talen snorted in amusement. “But the marking is necessary for their protection—to give them our defenses as well as immortality. There’s no other way—and there’s no other choice.”

Dage chuckled. “Life is so black and white for you, isn’t it? You plan, fight, conquer, and go home.” His brother was perfect for his position as head of security for the entire Realm.

“Yes.” Talen double-checked the weapon stored at the small of his back. “You’re a fine king and well suited for the crown.” Golden eyes flared. “But in this instance, at this time, diplomacy be damned. Find your woman and mark her as your own.”

While his brother was as subtle as a ten point earthquake, Dage hoped to entice his mate rather than conquer. As a first resort anyway. But whatever the means, the end result would be the same. He’d finally touched his queen. Finishing off his grape energy drink, he rolled his shoulders, his own weapon in place. “We haven’t had to arm ourselves for the colloquium in centuries.”

“ You haven’t. I’ve always been armed.” Talen tucked a knife against his shin. The family quarters were well guarded, but once inside the grand ballroom there would be too many guests to be certain of safety. Vampires, shape-shifters, and witches galore. All of the leaders throughout the Realm—a symposium equal to that of the United Nations. Talen snapped another knife in place up his left sleeve. “You need to stop drinking that stuff.”

“Why?” Immortality had some benefits. “I’m allowed one vice.”

Talen grinned. “That’s a stupid vice. At least at the damn colloquium we get scotch.”

Dage shrugged. “I know you wanted me to cancel the colloquium, but we couldn’t with us having gone to war with the Kurjans. Diplomacy is at a must right now.”

“I know. Portland was a good choice of location this year. Easy to travel from if necessary.” Talen returned to his main topic. “Are you going to mark Emma or not?”

Dage fought a growl. “Of course.” His pretty blue-eyed scientist would damn well wear his mark—sooner rather than later. He’d waited centuries to find her.

The wait had ended.

“Ah, I have news.” Talen shifted his feet in shiny new loafers, no doubt wishing for combat boots. “Cara’s with child.”

Dage threw an arm around his brother’s thick shoulders. “Congratulations. You’ll have a fine son.”

“Are you sure? I mean, have you seen my son in your head?” Talen’s eyes held a never before seen uncertainty.

Dage forced a smile. “No—which means there’s nothing to worry about.” He hoped. He cleared his throat and sought the right words. “In fact, I’d like you to concentrate on strategy and security for the next while.” His brother was a strategic genius, a talent that would more than serve the Realm.

Talen stilled. “Is that so?”

His brother was also known for a deadly temper. “Yes. We’re at war and need to focus on making plans with the shifting nations as well as covens. We need to organize.”

“I’m not sitting on the sidelines.” A muscle began to tick in Talen’s jaw, a sure sign punches would soon follow.

Dage readied his stance. He’d hate to have to kick his brother’s ass right before the ball. Damn but it’d be a good fight if they both let loose. “You know as well as I that planning for the battle is more important than shooting a gun.”

Golden eyes flashed. “You know as well as I that no battle strategy goes according to plan. I’m as good as Conn on the ground.”

Together the two men were unbeatable. “I know.”

Talen sighed. “Dage, I appreciate it, I really do. But my job is my job and I need to do it right, whether or not my mate’s with child.”

“I know. But with Janie and now the new baby, you have a lot to think about.”

“Yes, and if something happens to me, I know you’ll take care of Cara, Janie, and the baby. We’re at war, Dage.” Talen clapped him across the shoulders. “We can’t turn our backs on duty, no matter the reason.” He grinned. “Now let’s go find our mates.”