Anastasia Maltezos - Lycan King

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Lycan King

Forbidden Love-- Lycans and Vampires do not mate.

When Eve, a beautiful vampire, journeys to King Drago's castle, she doesn't expect the contempt and dislike the king shows her. He wants her off his royal grounds because he doesn't want to place his people in harm's way with her vile thirst. Vampires are evil, he says, ruled by the devil, feeding off innocents to survive. Eve doesn't care what he thinks. She has arrived at his castle for one reason. She wants her daughter.

Drago, a two-hundred-year-old Lycan King, cannot explain the lust heating his loins for this undead beauty. She has the face of an angel, yet she splays her sword like a warrior and fights like his best royal guard. In time, it is more than her beauty and fighting skills that interests him. It is her courage and bravery, her compassion and honour that makes him realise he may have done her a great injustice calling her evil. He soon discovers he is lusting after her like no other because she is his one, his soul mate. How can that be? He knows of no Lycan in existence who has ever claimed a vampire.

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Lycan King

Copyright © 2012 Anastasia Maltezos

ISBN: 978-1-77111-111-9

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Devine Destinies

An imprint of eXtasy Books

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Lycan King

Lycan Legend Two

By

Anastasia Maltezos

To Leah, Chloe and Olivia.

Chapter One

The royal guard's face darkened with annoyance. "Wait here," he said and pushed the massive door in her face.

Eve released an impatient breath and stared at the ornate knocker. It was made entirely of gold and fashioned into the shape of a wolf baring its jaws. She grimaced beneath her covering.

The sun was strong and she kept her face down, lifting her gloved hands to secure the hood around her head. She prayed she didn't have to wait long. Her stomach clenched with hunger at the sweet, intoxicating scent of blood around her.

Focus, she told herself. Don't do anything stupid. She gritted her teeth and tried to block the scents around her, but it was so hard. After four hundred years, it wasn't any easier fighting the urge to feed off innocent humans, but she would rather die than give in to her vile thirst.

"Momma, why is that woman dressed like that? Isn't she hot?" a child a few paces behind her asked.

Eve knew she stood out like a sore thumb wearing her black cloak, covering her from head to toe, but it was either that, or burn to a crisp, another hellish side effect to immortality.

"Hush. Stop staring at her," a woman said.

She pursed her lips. If the King didn't come soon, she was going to knock down the massive, brass door and find him herself. For a split second, she was tempted to do just that, but common sense prevailed. She didn't want to start a war.

Grimacing, she tried blocking the scents pummelling her senses.

After she accomplished what she came for, she would feed.

* * * *

King Drago narrowed his gaze on his two royal guards, Nolan and Falk, entering the Great Hall. "Well, what do you have to report?" he asked Falk, not bothering to hide his impatience. "Does she remember?"

"Nay, Your Highness, she does not."

He swore roughly under his breath. "We need to know where Balkathan is hiding his pack. Tell Hesta I need results-- now !" he growled.

"The healer said she is doing everything she can," Falk said.

"Tell her she's not doing enough! Go! And don't return unless you have good news."

Drago stared at his guard's retreating and clenched his jaw. For three weeks they couldn't get anything out of Katya. Three weeks! She was the only person who knew where Balkathan's lair was hidden and he feared her madness that was causing her memory loss was incurable.

He growled at his remaining guard, Nolan. "What is it? And it better not be bad news."

"There is a visitor at the front gate. She says it's imperative she speaks with you, Your Highness."

"Tell her to go away," he commanded.

"I told her you were busy, but she refuses to leave."

"Who is she?"

Nolan frowned. "She wouldn't give me her name and I couldn't see her face. She is covered from head to toe in a black garment."

"Is she as mad as our guest? The sun is strong today." Drago released an exasperated breath. "Damnation! Has all my staff lost their competencies? First Hesta and now you?"

"Forgive me, Your Highness, but she is very persistent. She said she would camp at the door and would not leave until she saw you."

Drago frowned irritably, his ire now directed at the faceless woman. "Does she want coin? Give it to her! I have no time for this."

"Nay, Your Highness, she said it is not charity she seeks."

"Damn her." He'd better see her and be done with her. He rose abruptly from his throne and glowered at his guard. "I'll give the wench one minute and then you can escort her off the castle grounds by force if necessary."

"Aye, Your Highness."

With Nolan following him brusquely at his side, Drago strode from the Great Hall down a corridor to the main entrance. He nodded at his two guards flanking the doors. Nolan opened one of the massive doors and Drago stared at the woman facing him. He frowned, trying to see her face. Nolan was right. She was completely covered. He furrowed his brow, wondering what kind of person cloaked herself under this blistering sun.

"Your Highness," she greeted. "Thank you for seeing me."

Even though her voice was calm, he detected a thread of annoyance beneath it. He deepened his frown. "What is your name?"

"Eve."

"And what is so important you wanted to see me about, Eve?"

"May I come inside?" She paused. "I don't like the sun."

That was evident, he thought, trying to see past the dark hood covering her face. He stepped aside and she entered his main hall. Her scent drifted around him and he stiffened violently, clenching his jaw. His animal's response to her feminine essence brought an involuntary rush of heat in his loins. His blood stirred and he cursed his aroused wolf.

"I'm here to take my daughter away," she began without preamble, turning towards him as she pushed back the dark hood covering her head. "I believe she is your prisoner." She removed her black cloak and flung it on the back of a chair.

Shocked, he flared his nostrils and inhaled sharply. It wasn't her words that stunned him--it was her face. She was a great beauty, with long, dark hair and blue eyes, but even that wasn't what had him transfixed. It was her skin. It had an ethereal glow that looked almost other worldly. He tore his gaze from her face and looked down at her attire. She was dressed in tight, black warrior garb with weapons attached to her waist and legs, which included daggers, a gilded sword and wooden stakes. By the Gods, was she ready for battle? He narrowed his gaze on her face.