Anastasia Maltezos - Lycan King

"I'm sorry."

She looked up at him. "I'm grateful I met him. Otherwise I would not have Katya."

"When did you tell Katya you were a vampire?"

"When she was old enough to talk. It was our secret and no one ever found out. One evening, I went out to feed in the forest near our home. When I returned, I saw the devastation Balkathan's army of demons did to our village. If I'd been there, if I hadn't left, I could have done something…prevented some…" She couldn't speak.

"You couldn't do anything, Eve. Don't blame yourself for what happened."

"What do you know of what I felt? Drago, I could have saved some lives. I could have…have saved my daughter."

His face darkened. "You could not save any villagers nor your daughter any more than I could have saved the queen." He paused. "After Balkathan's army turned my castle, two hundred years ago, the queen couldn't live with what she'd become. The Gods were on our side that night because we managed to drive his army away, but it came with a dark price. The queen went mad. She refused to speak to me or our son, Vasilis. She kept herself locked up in her private chambers. One day I found her on her bed with a silver dagger in her chest. She killed herself and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

Horrified, she raised a hand to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Drago. I didn't know."

Grim-faced, he nodded. "So you see, I do know what you feel. I could have placed her under constant supervision. I could have had Hesta care for her day and night until she grew well, but I didn't. I…I didn't know how mad she had become until the very end." He gave her an unreadable look. "Do you miss your husband?"

"We never married, but I do miss him. He was a kind man."

"Do you love him still?"

"I cared deeply for him, but I don't think I loved him. That part of me died when I turned all those centuries ago. I am not able to love."

His face hardened. "You love your daughter."

"That's different. I'm talking about the love between a man and woman."

"I see."

Gently, she stepped out of his grasp. "I will always care for Caleb and think fondly of him, but he died a very long time ago. My heart has healed from the loss."

Their gazes met and locked and she held her breath. "And the queen? Do…do you miss her?"

"She died two hundred years ago and a part of me still cannot forgive her for taking her life. Vasilis took her death very badly, but I am thankful to the Gods because he has met his one , Alexandra, and they are on their honeymoon."

Eve thought about all the lives Balkathan had destroyed the past four hundred years due to his insatiable thirst for power and wealth. Her body stiffened. He was insane. She'd always known he was. She remembered the day his last shred of humanity disappeared. A mixture of rage and fear rose in her breast. She'd known for a long time she had to stop running. Her day was coming when she had to face him--and destroy him, but she was afraid of Balkathan overpowering her and trapping her to his dark side.

"Balkathan's reign of terror must end soon," she whispered, her thoughts still in the past. "This cannot go on."

"When Vasilis returns from his honeymoon, we will plan our attack. If it's the last thing I do, I will destroy him."

A flicker of doubt darkened her thoughts. "He fights with Vampires and Lycans. Can you really defeat him?"

"I will die trying."

She didn't like the sound of that. "Drago, he's powerful."

"I will fight him at close range and plunge my own silver into his chest."

It would be suicide, she thought sadly. "Drago, silver cannot kill him."

"What do you mean?" he asked sharply.

She paused. "You do not know?" She searched for the right words. "Four hundred years ago, I plunged my own silver into his chest and he survived ."

He stiffened visibly, his face growing dark. "You fought him? Are you insane, woman? You could have been killed."

Hadn't he heard what she'd just said? "Drago, silver cannot kill him!"

He paused and drew his brows into a dark frown. "Are you certain it was pure silver you used?"

"Yes."

"There must be a reasonable explanation for this," he said.

There was, she thought, but he didn't give her a chance to explain because he drew her roughly in his arms and held her against his chest. "I forget you're four hundred years old and must have endured so much more than me." His grip tightened around her. "To think you fought him and could have been killed."

It sounded like he cared. "You thought I was a vile creature when you first met me, remember?" she mumbled against his chest.

He withdrew slowly, clasping her chin with his fingers and gently raised her face. Their gazes met and locked. "Eve, about that," he began slowly. "I didn't--"

He glanced over her shoulder and frowned at something behind her. When he returned his gaze to her, his expression was grim. "Damn! We've lost track of time. The sun will rise soon. We must go."

She spun around and gasped. "Oh my God! How long have we been here?" The horizon was already awakening with soft hues of gold and pink.

"Go!" he roared. "Fly!" He shifted in his massive, black wolf form.

She inhaled sharply and vaulted high in the air. She soared towards the mountain in the distance where the castle was. She glanced down and saw Drago in his wolf form matching her speed on the ground.

The sun was rising and she felt a tingle on her hand and face. "I'm not going to make it," she screamed.

In a few moments, the sun would be up and she would burn. My God, was this how she was going to die after all these centuries because she lost track of time?

The horizon brightened and she covered her face, rushing down to the ground. She heard Drago growl ferociously and peeked at him through her fingers. She watched him shift from his wolf to his Lycan form. He caught her before she hit the ground.

"Hide your face and hands against my chest," he growled in his eerie tone. "And don't move!"

And then he ran. Fast . She could feel them speeding through the fields, his arms holding her tightly and she prayed they would make it in time before the sun lit the entire sky. Heat penetrated her attire and a small section of her exposed ankle burned. She winced, squeezing her eyes.

"We're almost there," he growled.

She kept her eyes shut, panic welling in her breast. Before she knew it, she heard sounds of voices. They had reached the village. Hope flared in her breast, but she didn't dare lift her head just yet. Her ankle still throbbed and she knew she would scar, but she didn't care. It was better than her body bursting into flames.

He leaped distance upon distance and she knew he was vaulting up the mountainside trail. Then he ran on flat grounds.

"Quick! Shut the door behind me," Drago yelled.

"Aye, Your Highness!"

She knew they were in the castle, but she was too afraid to lift her head from his chest. After a few more minutes, he stopped and placed her gently on the floor. Slowly, she opened her eyes looked up at his sinister jowls.

His ferocity didn't frighten her. The expression in his amber eyes showed deep concern and with a low growl, he lifted her in his arms and strode in the room, kicking the door behind him with his monstrous limb.

He placed her on the bed and inspected her face and hands for burns. He grimaced when he saw the scar on her ankle.

"Why did you not wear your cloak?" he asked harshly.

"I didn't think I'd need it. I thought I would be back well before sunrise."

His monstrous face darkened with deep concern. "I'm sorry. It was my fault. I should have paid more attention to the time."

"I am unharmed."

He drew back and shifted in his human form. She stared at his body and felt her breath catch. He was still draped in his black loin cloth and her gaze travelled from his long, muscular legs to his trim, taut abdomen, up to his face. She stared at the curious muscle throbbing along his jaw.