"Lover At Last" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ward, J.R.)

тАЬAnd what of you?тАЭ

тАЬGo.тАЭ

Throe hesitated, and in the pause, that night when Xcor had nearly died came back to them both. How could it not have?

тАЬAs you wish.тАЭ

His soldier dematerialized, leaving Xcor to stand against the wind alone. When he was sure he had been left, he sent his molecules likewise unto the cold gusts, venturing forth to the north, to a meadow that was covered in snow. Taking form, he stood at the base of its gentle hill, staring up at the beautiful tree standing proud and lovely at the apex.

He thought of the soft rise of a femaleтАЩs breast, of her elegant collarbones, of the most sublime column of a pale neckтАФ

As the wind buffeted his back, he closed his eyes and stepped forward, drawn to return to the spot where he had met his pyrocant.

Where was his Chosen?

Did she still live? Had the Brotherhood taken her life for her kind, generous, unknown gift to the enemy of her king?

Xcor knew he would have died without her blood. Gravely injured during the attempt on WrathтАЩs life, he had been on the verge of expiration when Throe had take him out to this field and summoned the Chosen and the deed had been done.

Throe had engineered it all. And, in the process, embedded a curse within XcorтАЩs dark heart.

His ambitions remained as they had been: He intended to wrestle the throne from the Blind King and reign oтАЩer the vampires. There was, however, a critical weakness that dogged him.

That female.

She had been wrongly drawn into the conflict among dagger-handed males, an innocent who had been manipulated and then used.

He sorely worried over her welfare.

Indeed, he had but one regret in his lifetime of evil deeds. If he had not sent Throe into the arms of the Brotherhood, his second in command would not have crossed her path and fed from her himself. And except for that intersection, Throe would not have then later called upon her service, and she would not have come unto them in that fieldтАжand Xcor would never have looked into those compassionate eyes.

And lost a part of himself.

He was but a filthy, malformed, sireless cur, a traitor of the order and protection she rightfully lived under. He had not deserved her gift.

And neither had ThroeтАФand not because he had fallen from his previous high station within the glymera.

No mortal male was deserving.

Coming to a stop under the tree, Xcor stared at the spot where he had lain sprawled before herтАжwhere she had knelt over him and scored her wrist, and he had opened his mouth to receive the power that only she could give him.

There had been a moment when their eyes had met and time had stoppedтАжand then she had slowly lowered her wrist to his mouth.

Oh, that too-brief contact.

He had been convinced she was but an apparition of his errant mind, but as Throe had driven him back to the lair, it had come upon his consciousness that she was real. Very real.

Weeks had passed. And then one evening, out in the city, he had sensed her, and followed the echo of her blood in his veins to see her.