Viktor:Heart of Her King(15)

Another venue switch and Kat was transported to a scorching mountaintop  in the heat of the day beside a dying Viktor. His wrists and ankles were  tied to posts. His eyes swollen shut from the sun. His lips as dry as  the sand on the beach below them. And his skin blistered and raw from  the elements.

Using his last breath, he wheezed a prayer to Zeus asking the Father of  the Gods to show favor upon his men and a promise that Bjorn would know  vicious vengeance for his treachery. Kat wept just as she had for her  parents. Her brain knew it was ancient history, Viktor was alive and  well, but her heart was broken, shattered into a million pieces at the  mere thought of losing him.

The pictures before her blinked out of existence but Kat still wept. She  sobbed for what he'd endured, for the long life he'd lived, for the  benevolent man he was, and out of fear that she might never see him  again. Looking across the table, she saw satisfaction and anticipation  on Bjorn's face. The bastard had something else up his sleeve and Kat  knew it was going to suck.

Handing her a linen handkerchief, he said, "Dry your eyes. Viktoras is  not worth our tears. You should not be crying over his death but over  the fact that Zeus stepped in and granted him and the worthless lot who  pledged allegiance to him resurrection and immortality.

"They should've all stayed dead. Although I only had a hand in the  demise of Viktoras' human life, I do admit to celebrating every time one  of his men was slain. After I was told of my greatest enemy's recovery  and that of Roman and Achilles, I sent men to watch over the graves of  the others, but those men died tragic deaths, drained of all their  blood.

"How do you think that happened, Katarina? Why would I find my men  completely exsanguinated next to the empty graves of those foolish  enough to follow Viktoras?"

Kat's tears had dried but her pain was still nearly crippling her.  Listening to Bjorn spout pure heresy against the man she was just  realizing the depth of her feelings for after holding her hostage for  only God knew what, caused the usually calm, levelheaded woman to snap.

Standing so quickly the chair beneath her hit the floor with a loud  crack, Kat let all her frustration at the events of the last twenty-four  hours fly from her mouth like bullets from a gun. "Why? Why did the  murderers you had lying in wait to kill good men die horrible deaths? I  don't know and quite frankly, I don't care. What I want to know is what  these honorable men ever did to you? What did Viktor ever do to you? Why  did you find it necessary to have him killed? Not just killed but  shamed, slandered, and left to die like an animal?"

Inhaling deeply, she raged on, her voice rising with every statement.  "You want to know what I think, Bjorn?" Kat said his name with such  derision he stood, but she kept going even though he clenched his fists  at his side. "I think you were scared of him. I think you knew he was a  better man than you. Viktor made you look bad simply by existing. He  makes you look bad now. You are what we call back home a coward. Like I  said, you were afraid of him then and you're afraid of him now. Why else  would you kidnap a girl? Afraid Viktor and his boys will kick your ass?  Well, come closer, I have a secret for you."

Kat planted her hands on her hips, leaned over the table, and poured all  the disdain she could into her sweetest southern drawl. "You fucked  with the wrong guy, baby. He may have been tough when y'all ran around  in skirts but now he's a force to be reckoned with. He's gonna make you  pay for everything you've done. You're going to die a horrific death.  One not even your goddess can bring you back from. You..."                       
       
           



       

Kat's words were interrupted by Bjorn's hand around her throat. She  could see the fire in his eyes as his grip tightened. Feel her body  fighting for its next breath as he kicked the table out of the way and  lifted her feet from the floor. Black spots danced around the edges of  her vision as he brought her to the level of eyes.

Growling like a feral animal, he spat, "You, little girl, will die after  watching your precious blood king forfeit his life at the end of my  sword. But first..."

Bjorn's last words were inaudible as Kat's vision faded and the sound of  Viktor bellowing her name tore through what was left of her  consciousness.





Chapter Six


"KATARINA!" Viktor roared.

Seconds became hours as the ancient warrior prayed for any sign his mate  still drew breath. Blocking out the turbulent thoughts of the other  Kings, Viktor focused solely on Katarina, willing her to still be alive  with all the power bestowed upon him by the Father of the Gods.

She gasped.

A tidal wave of relief washed over the King. The keeper of his heart  lived but was unconscious, making it impossible for him to locate her  using their bond. Unable to control his need to find her, Viktor raced  to the dungeons in the depth of the castle he'd called home since the  late sixteenth century. Reaching the steel and concrete reinforced oak  door in the farthest corner of the keep, the King pierced his finger  with the dagger from his belt then carefully let a single drop of his  life's essence drop into the golden lightning bolt inlaid on the heavy  oak.

A flash of light, the deep rumble of thunder, and the pounding of huge,  steel deadbolts sliding open shook the stone walls. Long unused hinges  groaned in protest as a ton of oak and steel slid across the earthen  floor, opening the door to Viktor's only hope of seeing his beloved  again. Taking a deep breath, the King entered the altar to Zeus he'd  built and consecrated with his own blood.

Kneeling before the stone statue of the Father of the Gods, Viktor  prayed the words he'd been taught upon his resurrection, "Father of the  Gods, Ruler of Sky and Thunder, I come to you a humble servant on bended  knee to pray for guidance. With a sight only the most powerful could  possess, look into the mortal world, place your eyes and protection on  meum custos animae. Place your hand of protection upon her. Lead my  steps that I may find her. It is with reverence, respect, and absolute  obedience I forfeit my immortal existence that she might live. I gladly  offer my soul to Charon and make my journey across the river Styx. I  pray upon your altar and ask for your favor. Ever faithful, ever  obedient, your servant."

Viktor spoke with unyielding belief and a strength that poured from the  everlasting love he possessed for Katarina. She may not know who he was  to her or what she meant to him, but he did know beyond the shadow of  all doubt that if she had the chance for a full life filled with love  and happiness, his sacrifice would be the best thing he'd ever done.

Waiting for a sign that his prayer had been heard, Viktor focused on the  single glimmer of light in his soul that was his Katarina. Thousands of  years spent wandering the darkness, waiting to feel the warmth of a  love blessed by the gods and forged by Destiny, had brought the mighty  King to this moment in time. He would save her. She would live. He would  slaughter the one who dared to harm her. And then retire to the Elysian  Fields, content with his life, happy in the knowledge the world had not  been deprived of the blessing that was his Katarina.

Head bowed, repeating his prayer over and over, the words were stolen  from Viktor's lips as a flash of lightning tore through the air before  him, striking the granite sculpture of Zeus the ancient warrior had  fashioned with his own hands. The crash of stone hitting stone echoed  off the walls as dust filled the chamber. A shaft of bright, white light  shot from above. Viktor raised his hand to protect his squinted eyes as  a voice spoke that he'd only ever heard while his human heart still  beat.

"I hear your words, Unum. The conviction of your belief in me and your  relentless courage to save your custos animae. Your prayers have been  answered. I accept your sacrifice but in so much as your willingness to  forfeit your life, Charon has no need of your obolus and my brother has  no need of your soul.

"Look within yourself. Follow the light to your mate. Take the weapon  before you forged by Athena from the bronze of my shield, Aegis, blessed  by my own hand. May it serve you well, Unum."

The light extinguished. The dust settled. Silence was deafening as the  grave filled the chamber. Viktor looked down. There, lying at his feet  was the weapon of the gods just as Zeus had promised. Bowing to what  used to be his altar to the Father of the Gods, the King simply  whispered, "Thank you. I am ever in your debt."                       
       
           



       

Racing through dark, winding, long-forgotten tunnels, Viktor threw open  the doors and using his preternatural speed, dashed into the dense  forest behind the castle. Following the light of his dear Katarina,  Viktor drew upon the powers given to him as the leader of the Kings of  the Blood and sent the same directions he was following to each of his  comrades. Their overwhelming support of his call to arms flowed back to  him. With more gratitude than he could ever express, the ancient  commander severed his connection to the others, directing his entire  focus on Katarina and the bastard who would forfeit his life for daring  to lay a finger on her.