ROMAN: Fury of Her King (Kings of the Blood Book 2) Read online

  Laying Cynthia on the stone bench he had constructed in the year of her birth, he knelt beside her, held her hand in his, and closed his eyes. Calming his mind the best he could, the King followed the bond he had shared with his mate since the moment she drew her first breath until he found her, or at least the representation of his mate in her own mind.

  She sat on a wooden swing hanging from the highest branch of a very old oak tree singing as she rocked back and forth. He smiled when she stopped and looked at him with stars in her eyes. “I knew you would come,” she sighed.

  Stepping behind her, he put his hands on the ropes and pushed the swing while asking, “And how did you know that?”

  “Because you love me.” Her voice held its patented sass which forced a bark of laughter from the King.

  “Oh do I now?” He chuckled.

  “Well, of course you do. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be here.” He stopped the swing and walked around until he could see her beautiful face and asked, “And where exactly is here?”

  “My grandpa’s farm. This is my second favorite spot. Wanna see my first?” Cynthia jumped off the swing and grabbed his hand. It broke his heart to stop her from pulling him along but there simply was not time.

  As she spun back to look at him with a scowl on her face, he quickly explained, “Our time is limited, agápi mou. You can show me another time.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She pushed at the grass with her toe and spoke without looking up at him. “Will it hurt?”

  Shocked, he immediately asked, “Will what hurt?”

  She looked at him with so much trust in the depths of her violet eyes he was forced to pull her into his arms. A brilliant smile on her lovely face, Cynthia tilted her head to the side and said, “When you make me a King.” She laughed out loud. “Or a queen or whatever I’m gonna be.”

  “How do you know all of this? How could you know?”

  “Well, the tall redhead, Kat? She gave me a small course in the ‘You’re In Love with A King of the Blood’ and…”

  “You love me?” he interrupted. She swatted his shoulder before placing the palms of her hand on his chest and looking him right in the eye. “Yes, you big lug, since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” Narrowing her eyes, she teased, “But I guess it was already a foregone conclusion.”

  Roman rushed to explain, “Oh no, agapiméni mou, not a foregone conclusion. You are under no obligation to say yes, to…”

  Placing her index finger on his lips, she whispered, “Shhhhh, you silly, silly man.” Removing her finger, she gave him a quick kiss then leaned back and said, “Of course, I have an obligation…to myself, to you, and most of all to my heart. I love you. It makes no sense. It seems impossible and the good Lord knows I fought it, but the truth is there’s nowhere to run that you won’t find me, that I won’t look for you, that we shouldn’t be together.”

  Roman was flabbergasted. Cynthia was even more perfect than he had ever imagined. She was not only strong, intelligent, more beautiful than Aphrodite herself, and giving to a fault, but she was his…not only in his heart but in hers, where he had always dreamed it would be so.

  “Are you listening to me, Roman Marinos?” Cynthia sounded irritated and it was then he realized he’d missed what she was saying.

  “I am so sorry, i kardí mou, I was lost in thought. What were you saying?”

  Sighing and shaking her head, Cynthia rolled her eyes then went on, “As I was saying…after I collapsed and Kat called the ambulance, I ended up here. I could hear what was going on out there…” She pointed over his shoulder. “But that was about it and then a guy with gorgeous blonde hair, a harp, and some arrows who was wearing a toga showed up and filled me in on some more of who you are, where you came from, and why I’ve been stuck on you pretty much since the first time I saw your picture in a magazine while I was at business school.”

  “That was the god Apollo, my sweet,” Roman snickered then laughed out loud when his mate’s mouth dropped open and her eyes grew as big as saucers.

  “No way,” Cynthia breathed. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and added, “Good to know. Glad I was on my best behavior.” She ran her fingers through her short platinum locks. “Do they show up often? The gods?”

  “No,” he chuckled, amazed at the resilience of his fýlakas tis kardiás mou. “They do not.”

  “Good,” she nodded. “Well, Apollo said you have something to ask me and that my life depended on my answer.” She winked. “So, hit me, big guy. I really want to live, at least long enough to kick Valentina’s ass and kiss you one more time. Not necessarily in that order.” Waggling her eyebrows, she purred, “I was really looking forward to dinner with you that night.” At her admission, Roman wished there was time to kiss her breathless and show her how much he really loved her, but the proverbial clock was ticking.

  Taking her hands in his and stepping back, he said, “We’ll have to discuss the Valentina situation later, but for now…” Bending down on one knee, he looked her in the eyes, opened himself body, heart, and soul to her, and asked, “Will you, Cynthia St. James, take your place at my side as the King of the Gods decreed so many millennia ago. Will you be my Queen? Will you live eternity with me as your mate and take sustenance from only my vein as I will only take from yours?”

  Without hesitation, Cynthia got down on her knees, took his face in her hands, and opened herself to him, just as he had to her, and said with a confidence he felt all the way to his core, “Yes, Roman Marinos, I will.”

  Using incredible speed and strength, the King scooped up his mate, stood tall and proud, and put his lips to hers, promising his undying love and commitment with a kiss when his words would simply not be enough.

  Pulling back, he said, “There will be time to answer all your questions when you awake, but for now I need you to open your mind to mine and see how the ritual will progress.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I wish we had the time for me to explain everything and answer all your questions, but I can feel the stutter of your heart and the last drop of strength draining from your body as you struggle to draw breath. We have to complete the conversion before you enter the ether and I must make sure my brothers have prepared the soil for us.”

  She nodded and he could sense her fear. Pulling her back to him, he said, “There can be no questions, no doubt. If this is not what you want, speak now.”

  Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and matter-of-factly stated, “This is what I want. I love you and I can’t imagine life without you.” Wrinkling her nose, she teased, “It’s just I’ve never died before.”

  Hugging her tight and letting his undying belief in not only the gods, but her strength and the power of their love flow from him to her, he drew back only when he could feel her again regain her resolve.

  The grin on her face said it all and her words made him laugh, “Now, get outta here and get ready for the ride of your life, pal.” Pulling out of her vision, Roman found his brothers standing in front of the hole in the ground he and Cynthia would occupy for the next thirty days.

  “You get everything sorted?” Viktor asked.

  Before he could answer, Sal, the youngest among them, laughed out loud. “Can’t you tell from that smile. If he were any happier, we would have to make the hole bigger.”

  “And that is just not happening,” Bain, the usually silent King who was near seven-feet tall and insisted on shaving his head added as he jumped out of the eight-by-eight-by eight crater. “This was a rush job and I am tired.” He threw his shovel in the back of Tommy’s—also known as Tommas several millennia ago—pick-up truck before wiping his hands and asking, “How do we give her our blessings if she is unconscious.”

  “We give it after she awakens,” Viktor answered, then to Roman, “You are not the only one Apollo chose to visit this evening.”

  Laughing, he shook his Commander’s hand and chuckled, “Thank the gods and thank you all.” He looked at the faces of al
l the other Kings, letting them see the truth of his gratitude in his eyes. “Now, I will bid you farewell. Ask that you keep watch and not drink all the good scotch.” He glared at Lee, Tommy, and Sal then said to Nik, “Please watch these guys.”

  “You got it, Roman,” Nikos readily agreed.

  “And that is called letting the fox mind the henhouse,” Lee snickered, causing the entire group to roar with laughter.

  “Enough,” Viktor ordered, smiling while taking control. “Let us leave Roman and his fýlakas ti kardiás mou to mate in peace.”

  “Thank you again,” Roman said as he walked to Cynthia, picked her up off the stone bench, and approached the pit they would rest in for the next thirty days and nights.

  Jumping into the hole, he smiled as he saw his brothers had covered the soil with the soft red comforter from his bed and had also left another blanket to keep the dirt from his mate. Placing Cynthia on the bedspread, Roman laid down beside her and placed a chaste kiss upon her lifeless lips with the assurance that because of their mind-to-mind connection, the keeper of his heart knew what he was doing and why.

  Placing butterfly kisses across her jaw and down her neck, he paid special attention to her jugular with its sluggish beat. Whispering, “Se agapó, símera kai gia pánta,” he let his canines extend and gently pierce the tender skin of the woman he loved more than life itself.

  Cynthia’s life essence, warm and rich, fulfilled him as nothing ever had. Every cell in his body came alive. He now carried a part of his mate within him…forever. All too soon, Cynthia drew her last breath and her heart ceased to beat. The shock of feeling the one he loved dead in his arms caused the King to bellow in agony as tears rolled down his face.

  While his screams still filled the air, lightning streaked the sky and the voice of Zeus burst into his mind. “Worry not, Romanus, I am with your fýlakas tis kardiás mou and we are enjoying the summer air of her youth. The next new moon will rise again soon enough and you will be reunited with the one you love. Rest now, mighty warrior, and know…it is not about possessing the one you love, but allowing her to grow her own wings and rejoicing when she decided to fly beside you and not away from you.”

  “As you command, so will I obey, beloved Zeus,” Roman responded as he gently lay Cynthia in the cradle of his arms and pulled the cover over them.

  Speaking the words that had Cynthia been awake they would have spoken together, the words designed by the King of the Gods to bind them together for all eternity, he felt the bond he shared with her grow stronger with every word. “On this day I give my life to Cynthia St, James, fýlakas tis kardiás mou. I pledge my love, body, and soul to the one Destiny has created for me. Together, we will uphold the law of the Father of the Gods. I will be faithful and true to the one whose heart I hold dear and forsake all others for her. It is with all that I am, all that I will be, and all that we are together that I commit myself to you, agapiméne mou.”

  Lulled to sleep by rolling thunder of the King of the Gods, Roman smiled as Zeus filled the space above them with the earth his comrades had earlier removed from their resting place. Speaking directly into Cynthia’s mind, he whispered, “Apópse eínai i próti nýchta tis mas gia pánta. Se agapó fýlakas tis kardiás mou.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cold chills ran down her spine as she watched Roman simply disappear into the mist. It was the weirdest, craziest, and most frightening thing she’d ever seen. It didn’t matter that she could hear his thoughts, feel him as if he hadn’t left, and knew beyond all doubt she would see him again—it was still terrifying as all get out.

  Trying to focus, she walked to the barn, climbed the rickety wooden steps, and smiled to see that in the dream world, her little ‘clubhouse’ was still intact. Sitting in her favorite spot, Cyn pulled her legs onto the bale of hay and sat in what her first grade teacher used to call the crisscross-applesauce position. Looking out over her grandpa’s farm, or at least her memories of it, she thought about another of the old man’s sayings – Don’t blink, you might miss something good. Things around here turn on a dime.

  “No truer words were ever spoken, Pop-Pop,” she mumbled to herself.

  “Who are you speaking to child?”

  Squeaking with surprise, Cyn jumped to her feet and screamed, “Who the hell are you? What the hell are you doing here?”

  Looking around for something to use as weapon, she almost missed the stranger’s bold reply. “Why I am Zeus, King of the Gods and creator of the Kings of the Blood, Cynthia St. James, and you will do well to watch your tone when you speak to me.”

  Putting her hands on her hips, she stood and stared at the tall, muscular, older man with long white hair and an incredible air of superiority then asked, “Why are you dressed like a golfer? I mean, I met your son, Apollo, a little while back and he was wearing a toga. What’s with the polo shirt and plaid shorts?”

  Looking down then back up at her, the man claiming to be Zeus shrugged and in the blink of an eye, changed from his tacky tourist outfit into a long, flowing white toga with a crown of golden leaves on his head and a lightning bolt in his hand. Raising one eyebrow, he asked, “Better?” His voice was now low and rumbling, making the hair stand up on her arms and goose bumps run up and down her spine.

  Suddenly realizing she truly was speaking to the one and only Zeus and remembering everything she’d ever read about him said he wasn’t the most patient or understanding god, Cyn immediately curtsied like she’d been taught in etiquette class and said, “I apologize for my disrespect, Mighty Zeus. I was…well, shocked.”

  A nod was the only recognition her apology received as Zeus looked around before matter-of-factly stating, “Cynthia, fýlakas tis kardiás mou of Romanus, I know you are well insulated in this dream world of my making and have no idea that your human life has already come to an end and that you have been wandering here in your own memories for near on thirty days.”

  Thirty days? Not possible…

  A shiver shot down her spine. Her knees were weak from the shock of the news of her death. Wrapping her arms around herself for comfort, she listened as the King of the Gods continued. “I have come to ease your transition into immortality as your path has not been ordinary or easy, but there will always be obstacles for those bound for greatness as you have experienced firsthand. It is important for you to know that you were created by my own hands to stand beside one of my fiercest warriors. You are bound for a life few can only dream of. For you see, no man can battle all the evils of the world alone. He needs more than his sword, more than his army, more than the depth of his conviction…he needs a mate. The one person in all the world who sees him for what he is and the tasks he has to accomplish and accepts him, unconditionally. A woman who can love without boundary and trust her instincts to protect what is hers.”

  “You see, Cynthia, the Kings of the Blood were born out of more than necessity, more than the world’s need for heroes. They live and breathe by my hand because without them, evil worse than your wildest nightmares would be free to run rampant and destroy my beautiful earth. And a warrior such as your Romanus, who has been tasked with winning this great war, needs a balance for the horrors he has and will face. This evil has the ability to rob him of his humanity and his soul.”

  “You are the one person who can restore that humanity with a single glance or the touch of your lips to his. The one person who anchors his soul to this world with her light. You, Cynthia, guide him out of the darkness and home after every hard-fought battle. Your love is the balm that nurses him back to health even when the wounds are unseen. Romanus will forsake all others for you and protect you with the last drop of his life’s essence. You must be willing to do the same without thought or hesitation.” He looked over her head before asking, “Do you know how your mate lost his human life?”

  Only able to shake her head, still trying to digest that she was not only speaking to the King of the Gods but that she was dead and would somehow be revived or reborn or what
ever the correct term was, Cyn sat on the edge of her seat listening to every syllable of what Zeus had to say.

  “Your vasiliás was the most revered and decorated General in the Grecian army. He served under Viktoras until the Supreme Commander’s passage into eternal life, at which time Romanus took his rightful place in charge of strategy for their troops. But as with all things, his enemies lie within those he called friend and the General was betrayed while on the battlefield by the bastard son of his father.”

  “His half-brother?” she whispered, her heart breaking for what the man she loved had endured.

  “Yes, but that is not all,” Zeus voice was low and shook the warped wood of the loft as she could feel his anger growing. “Xenophanes left our Romanus for the Keres who haunt the battlefields looking to drink the blood and rip the souls from the dead and dying before sending them on their way to Hades. However, a man such as the General with insurmountable strength and valor woven into the very fabric of his being, refused to give up and the death spirits could only circle, waiting for the inevitable. Time passed and still he refused to succumb to a dishonorable death before his time, so I benevolently granted Viktoras’ request to ordain Romanus into the order of the Kings of the Blood.”

  Cynthia could only stare as Zeus paused and seemed to be listening to voices she couldn’t hear. A healthy dose of fear and respect kept her from interrupting his silence as she thought about what she had learned. What Roman had been through was incomprehensible and absolutely horrific. She had no idea how he survived all these years, fighting for the gods who most people thought where little more than stories in long forgotten books told to glamorize ancient history. When the King of the Gods looked at her again, Cynthia felt the power of his gaze; knew what he was about to say was somehow more important than anything else he’d said so far.