She hated to see him as a prisoner. She admired him so much. She had capitulated to imprisonment until Raven had spurred her to rebel and to finally grasp freedom. She had been a prisoner because she had been afraid; he was a prisoner now because he was courageous and noble, willing to give his existence to save his sister.

His dark gaze remained on her, even as the beast shoved him forward. Jade’s servant held a two-sided ax at Raven’s back and prodded him roughly with the edge of the blade.

Ophelia, you should not have come here, Raven said harshly in her thoughts. This is too dangerous. You should have left me to my fate. Though I have to admit, you in trousers is one of the most enticing things I’ve ever seen.

Raven, this is not the time for that! Was she doing the right thing? She did not know how else to get him out and protect her brother. Her distraction would bring time for Brookshire and the other slayers to arrive.

Firmly, she answered, I want to believe your fate is to survive and to find happiness.

Love, it is too late for me, he answered stubbornly.

Jade reclined on her huge chair, her legs crossed to reveal their remarkable length, their beautiful shape. The queen stretched sinuously. “Come here, Lady Ophelia. It is time to take the power from Ravenhunt. Time to see if love can save this wretched, beautiful vampire.” Jade laughed in an affected, thoroughly evil ripple. “Bring him to me,” she snapped.

The horned creature pulled Raven forward by the chains. Raven stumbled, then followed obediently. He kept looking at her, as if he were afraid something would happen to her.

Althea came to her side. Her friend clasped her hand in a gesture of support.

The large demon shoved Raven to his knees in front of the raised dais and Jade’s throne, slamming him so hard Ophelia heard the crack of his kneecaps.

“Don’t hurt him,” she gasped. She jerked forward, but Althea held her back. Perhaps that was why her new friend had taken her hand. To restrain her and keep her from invoking Jade’s anger.

Raven remained on his knees, his head bowed, but beneath thick locks of black hair, he glared at Jade.

“Quiet,” the queen commanded. She literally floated down the steps and stopped in front of her prisoner. Smiling down at him, she slowly caressed his grizzled cheek and cupped his chin. Her lashes dipped, her lips softened.

Ophelia’s heart stuttered. The queen did love him. She could see it in the woman’s caressing touch and her soft smile. Had Raven ever loved Jade? He jerked his face away from the queen’s caressing hand.

“Don’t, Jade.” He grimaced. “I don’t want to be touched by you. There is too much cruelty between us in our past. I no longer want your world.”

Do not make her angry, please. I don’t want to lose you.

I can’t pretend, Felie, to care about her.

“You will not speak to her, not by thought,” Jade commanded. Then she cooed to him, “You are mine, Ravenhunt. I made you and I never let you go. To take your power, I will touch you. You will find great pleasure when I do.”

Jade pressed her hand to Raven’s forehead. His eyes shut. He let out a howl of pain and tried to move back, but he could not—not with the demon holding the chain.

“You begged me to take the power and finish you. We are going to do this now. Finally.”

The doors of the chamber flew open, and a small figure ran in, moving so quickly, it was just a blur of motion and color. The undressed footmen stormed in pursuit. “Halt!” they shouted together.

“No, this must halt!” shouted a familiar voice.

Jade lifted her hand, her eyes wild with fury. “What is this interruption? Why was he allowed into the house?”

The small figure stopped and dropped to one knee, bowing before Jade. “Queen Jade, your majesty, you cannot do this yet. He will be killed.”

Ophelia recognized the tufts of yellowish hair, the gnome-like face. It was Guidon.

The queen did not replace her hand on Ravenhunt’s head. “Why have you come here, librarian?” She sneered at the words as if they were an insult.

Guidon stood, approached Jade and Raven from the side, constantly bowing. “I know how this is to be done. My queen, you do not.”

“What must I do?”

“You cannot take the power from him. He must freely give it, and that would be impossible.”

“Why is it impossible?” Raven growled. A red mark marred his forehead where the queen had touched him.

“The pain will be so great he will be unable to do it. There is only one way to stop the pain. That is where true love comes in. If true love saves him, he will be able to release the power. Otherwise, he is destroyed and the power destroyed with him.” Guidon stopped, panting.

“How can I know this is truth?” Jade snapped.

“I always speak the truth. That is my curse. I need knowledge to survive,” said Guidon. “I must use the knowledge I obtain, or I will be destroyed by that curse. And I believe Ravenhunt and Lady Ophelia deserve happiness.”

“So she simply tells him she loves him,” Jade said. “Fine. We shall do that. Now let us begin again—”

“No, no, no!” Guidon jumped up and down. “It is never so simple.” He turned to Raven. “My lord, you cannot do this unless Lady Ophelia knows everything. It will not work. You have to bare your soul to Lady Ophelia, my lord. Only if she loves you still when she knows everything, can you be spared.”

Queen Jade muttered some words. Incomprehensible words, but she spat them and they must have been curse words. Sweeping around so her gold skirts fluttered, Jade settled on her ridiculously large throne. She waved her hand at Raven. “Go ahead. Hurry up. You must tell her the truth.”

“Then I’ll die,” he said. “She will never love me after this.”

Ophelia met the queen’s gaze. Jade tapped her chin. A slow smile curved her voluptuous mouth. “I believe she will. I believe, Ravenhunt, this girl is capable of loving you for eternity. She will love you even when she surrenders you to me. Now tell her everything.”


Raven got to his feet. He had subdued his strength, had feigned obedience to protect Felie and his sister. Standing at his full height, ignoring the weight of the chains hanging off him, he declared, “I want to touch her to tell her. It will be the last time she will want me to hold her.”

“You may do it,” Guidon added. “The power will not hurt you.”

Felie ran to him. In trousers, she moved swiftly, slamming against his chest before he expected it. She rocked him on his heels. Ignoring the chains hanging off him, she hugged him.

But then, Ophelia had always done that. Since the very first moment, when he had taken her captive, and she had faced him with awe-inspiring courage.

He cupped her delicate oval face. This would be their last kiss. He wanted to feel her lush mouth rock him to his heart. Not to his soul, of course, since he didn’t have one. Raven needed to make this a kiss she would never forget.

Gently, he tipped up her chin, lowered his mouth to hers. Just before his mouth touched hers, he waited, looking at the sultry way her lids lowered and her lashes dipped. It was a breathless moment, his chest so tight he couldn’t even draw a slow vampire’s breath.

He had always thought what he’d felt for his fiancée, Margaret, was the deepest love. Now he saw it was nothing compared to what he felt for Felie. Loving Felie hurt, it made his heart clench, his gut ache, his throat dry and tight, his head pound, his cock throb with so much need it was as if he’d spent a lifetime without ever quenching desire. He was an immortal being who could heal wounds, and this love was so strong, so intense, it robbed him of all his strength. It robbed him of the anger and bitterness that had driven him to be an assassin. He didn’t want that world anymore. Losing Felie’s love would mean losing her. It would be a wound he could never heal, not with any amount of strength or power.

If he lost her, he wanted to be destroyed.

Don’t think about destruction. Think of this moment. This kiss.

But loving Felie was not just about hurting and pain, he suddenly understood. Her love was about strength, about giving happiness, about having someone to share that happiness with. Margaret had made love about pain, Felie made it about joy.

His mouth touched heavenly softness. Warmth rushed through his lips into his blood and flooded his heart. His lips sizzled. . . .

He pushed her away. “Damnation, I have the power now. I must be able to hurt you.” Desperately, he looked to Guidon. “Are you certain I can touch her? The power can take lives later.”

“Because the power came from her, Lady Ophelia has immunity to it.” Guidon bowed to Felie, in the respectful way he did to ladies. “You will not be injured—or killed—by Lord Ravenhunt’s touch.”

“I’m not Lord anything.” He could kiss her again, but the moment was gone. His lips had sizzled not because of the power, but because of love. It was time to do this. He had run away from the loss of his fiancée to battle. He had run away from the grueling horrors he had seen from each battle by throwing himself into another.

There was nowhere to run anymore. Felie deserved the truth and his courage.

He tenderly stroked his thumb along her lower lip. Her lips parted and she looked so luscious and sweet, his heart broke. “You will not be able to love me after this,” he managed to say gruffly. “I want you to find a gentleman worthy of you. I want you to marry him and have children. I want you to have happiness.”