LycanKing Read Online Free Page A

jaw, realising what he was going to say next was ludicrous. He barely knew her, dammit, and she was a vampire. "Stay here with your daughter. I can offer you both a home, security, protection."
    "Thank you, but I don't need anyone to protect me."
    "Then stay for a few days, until your daughter has completely recovered."
    She remained silent and he could tell she was thinking this through carefully. He also knew she loved her daughter very much and would think of Katya's comfort before her own.
    "All right," she finally said. "I'll stay until Katya is well enough to travel."
    He nodded, disturbed by the extent of his relief. "Follow me," he said.
    He'd wanted to ask her so many questions about herself. When did she turn into a vampire? If she had a daughter, where was her husband?
    Yet he refrained. He needed to keep his distance from her. In the short time he spent with her, he went from loathing her because she was a vampire to understanding she was a woman whose demons ran deep and there was also that small matter that she made his blood boil to distraction.
    He had to stop it before he lost control.
    * * * *
    As she strode beside him down the long corridor, her thoughts kept going to their embrace. She didn't know if she should be disappointed or offended that he'd thought it was insane to kiss her. Yet, he was right. Vampires and Lycans did not mate. Could she fault him for thinking the obvious?
    She had had lovers the past four hundred years, but none of those men occupied her thoughts as much as Drago did. She didn't understand her attraction to him and she wasn't about to analyse their connection. Vampires didn't have happily ever-afters, only eternal hell. The Lycans were the lucky ones because they stood at chance at love. Legend was there was one mate for every Lycan. She thought about her daughter and wished Katya would find her one, her soul mate.
    He stopped in front of a door and opened it, moving aside to let her enter. She walked past him, her shoulder briefly skimming his massive chest, and she tensed, hurrying to get inside.
    The room's lovely décor stilled her thoughts and she looked up in surprise at Drago's face. She couldn't tell what he was feeling or thinking because his face was etched in granite. "This chamber is too extravagant. I can sleep with my daughter in her room."
    "Not until I know she's cured. You'll be safe here."
    "My daughter would never harm me."
    "She is a Lycan, Eve. Her strength is greater than yours and until she remembers who you are, you will stay here." He pointed to a small door in the corner. "That is your bath chambers. Lena will be your personal maid. If there is anything you require, let her know." He pointed to the white drapes covering the windows. "Those drapes will remain closed and this candelabra will be sufficient to light your room. Dinner will be served after sundown."
    "I don't eat."
    His mouth thinned. "Perhaps you can join me just the same?"
    The less time she spent with him, the better, she thought. "I appreciate the offer, but I prefer to remain here in my chambers."
    He narrowed his gaze on her. "Do you have any belongings that need to be brought in?" His gaze fell on her daggers and stakes strapped to her body. "Or anymore weapons?" he asked dryly.
    "No."
    "A horse that needs tending to?"
    "No." She didn't think this was the time to tell him exactly how she travelled. "I'll just take a bath and retire for a few hours before the evening. I haven't slept in two days and I usually sleep during the day."
    "As you wish," he said brusquely.
    He was going for the door, when she realized something. "Wait!"
    Slowly he turned and stared at her with his dark, brooding gaze.
    "I just wanted to say thank you for looking after my daughter. She's all I have left and I'm deeply grateful to you, Your Highness."
    He remained silent for the longest time as he stared at her. "Call me Drago," he finally said. "And you're welcome."
    She remained lost in thought, seated on the edge