His fingers brushed over her lower lip. A jolt of excitement rocked her, stealing her breath. Falcon’s hand fell to grasp her upper arm. He pulled her against him, he moaned as she sighed when their bodies made contact. It felt so right. Just like that night they had almost made love.
Framing her face with his hands, Falcon tilted her head back. Sonya’s eyes were heavy lidded, clouded with lust and long denied hunger. She craved just as he craved.
Sonya’s hands slid up his chest, the heat of her palms burned through his shirt, branding him. Heat slammed into him. A low growl rumbled his throat as Sonya arched into him, pressing herself tightly against his arousal. His cock throbbed and ached.
“Falcon,” she whispered, his name a gentle plea.
She wanted him to kiss her. Needed him to kiss her. Falcon lowered his head, reckless exhilaration pumping through his veins.
“A kiss,” he rasped. “Nothing more. We can do no—”
Sonya silenced him by pressing her fingers to his lips. “Come to my room. No one will know.”
Falcon swayed. Her invitation was like a right hook to the jaw. God. Yes. He would do anything to have her. His body raged with need. His cock strained against her, his fangs burst from their sheaths. To taste her, fully in every way would be…indescribable. His instincts flared to life, demanding he act on his need. That he claim her. The demon inside him roared its approval, hungry to feel this luscious blonde beneath him.
He would never know how he managed to step back. Devine intervention was the only explanation, he thought as his hands fell to his sides. His fingers trembled as he desperately fought to deaden his senses, shutting her out.
“No.” He was shocked by the steadiness of his voice and mortified by how harsh that simple word had sounded.
For a moment anger flashed in Sonya’s eyes, disappointment came next, then understanding and finally, acceptance. Their circumstance had not changed. She was still queen and he was still a Black Knight, an impossible match.
She bent and picked up the book he had dropped, careful to keep her fingers out of the sunlight. Clutching the book to her chest, Sonya straightened and fixed him with a hard stare.
“I admire your sense of honor and your will power is…” She sighed. “I wish I had your strength.”
“Your Majesty, I—”
Sonya shook her head. “Don’t start with that. It’s just the two of us.” She took a step towards him. Falcon held his ground. Sonya’s grip on the book tightened, her knuckles turning white. “I’m aware of the consequences…” Her voice cracked. “I’m well versed in vampire law as are you, but one night Falcon. No one ever has to know. We could—”
“No, Sonya. I can’t.”
Her chin titled up, her jaw clenched. “I’m not the kind of woman to beg. I will not ask you again, but I would like to know why. There is no risk of discovery, and yet you still refuse us. Is it your duty as a knight?”
Falcon cringed. He wished he could hide behind his sworn vows, use his honor as a shield, but he could not speak falsely.
Silence stretched between them as he struggled to find the words. He needed to make her understand what was holding him back. He knew one night with her, if ever discovered, meant his demise. But like any true warrior, he held no fear of death.
“No. I refuse because one night wouldn’t be enough.”
Chapter One
London, England
Present Day
Rain ran in rivulets down his face, the droplets caught on his lashes like tiny crystals, a delicate contrast to the harsh gunmetal grey of his eyes.
Falcon observed the group of Red Order Hunters that gathered in the ally below. Shadows clung to him, concealing him in their darkness. His prey’s laughter sailed on the wind, their merriment grating his nerves.
Poor bastards, they were peacefully oblivious to the specter of death that stalked them.
The hunters had taken from him, stolen what he loved most in this world. Sonya Rebane, the queen of the Voidukas Clan.
Three weeks. Sonya had endured imprisonment for three weeks and if she had one bruise or a single scratch to mare her smooth skin, he would roast every last Red Order hunter.
His fangs burned as his vision darkened, his gray eyes turning as black as the pits of hell.
Tonight, he would save her. Tonight, he would have Sonya in his arms.
The gentle hum of a car’s engine drifting on the air disrupted his thoughts.
Glancing up at the night sky, Falcon judged it to be about eleven-thirty. It was time for the changing of the guard. He watched as the hunters piled out of the old black van. They fell in line behind their commander, a tall, slender, balding man. He would open the secret door and go down into the dark pit where the cells were located, and where Sonya was being held. The commander was the only hunter permitted to check on the prisoners. Once finished, he would return to the group, close the wall, and take the van back to the soldier’s quarters. They were the only hunters that did not reside underground like the rest of the Red Order.