Carnal Discipline Page 2

  “After,” she whispered and ran her thumb across his slender, beautifully shaped lips. He kissed the pad of her thumb and she smiled, turned and continued down the hall. Glancing back over her shoulder, she was pleased to find him staring after her.

  A short time later, Vesta knocked on Lady Altah’s chamber door and stepped inside when Altah called for her to enter. The Vampire Ruler stood before a full-length mirror, glancing at her reflection. Tall and well-rounded, Altah was a beautiful woman with long, thick hair braided down her back, smooth ebony skin and eyes that could bring a raging bull to its knees. She wore an elegant black and gold dress with matching earrings and bracelets.

  Though she wasn’t exactly jealous of her Lady, Vesta sometimes wished she could be as glamorous and exotic. Her own style was simpler. Today she wore an ankle-length black dress with jade green jewelry. Her long black hair flowed loose down her back, held in place by two delicate jade barrettes.

  “Where are Kyros and Rex?” Vesta asked. It was unusual for Altah’s guardians to not be in attendance, especially before an event such as this meeting with the new Captain of the Guard.

  “They’re greeting Brigadier Razorpaw. You know what that means. They’re all a bloody mess about now.”

  Vesta nodded. She had no doubt the wolf guardians were initiating Razorpaw with a physical attack, just to be certain he was worthy of his new position. Wolves were such brutal creatures. Undoubtedly sexy, though in a bestial way. If only more could be like Julian, genteel yet tough when the situation called for it. Actually Altah’s guardian, Kyros, knew how to carry himself like a Vampire, but her other guardian, Rex, was raw wolf.

  Again Vesta wondered what Curt Razorpaw would be like.

  * * *

  Upon Curt’s arrival at the palace, a wolf guard escorted him to an underground level where Lady Altah’s guardians, Kyros and Rex, met him in an empty, spacious stone room brightened by dim overhead lights. They faced him in their wolf form -- bipedal with elongated facial features and covered in a shaggy pelt. Both were large, sleekly-muscled wolves, Kyros with a blond pelt and Rex’s black. Kyros was older, close to Curt’s age, and from an upper class family. In spite of his youth, Rex had a fine military record and, like Curt, came from a lower class family of knifers. Rarely did knifers become warriors or hunters, so Curt felt at least some connection to Rex. He had fought alongside both wolves in the past and knew them to be honorable and courageous. He was glad to see that life among Vampires apparently hadn’t changed their wolfish hearts.

  Curt’s senses sharpened immediately and a rush of excitement darted through him. Though he had prepared himself for a possible confrontation with Altah’s guardians, he hadn’t been certain of it. He’d feared the wolf guardians might have become too Vampiric to stage such an attack. Fortunately, they’d proved him wrong. He had no doubt Kyros and Rex meant to test him and he could scarcely wait to prove himself worthy.

  Rex growled deep in his chest.

  “You’ve accepted an important position,” Kyros began, his voice deep, bestial. “From here on out your loyalty is to Lady Altah and the capital city. Are you prepared to give your life for it?”

  “I am,” Curt replied, meeting Kyros’ gaze.

  The blond wolf growled. “Until the Guard Change ceremony, you’re nothing here. The written orders mean nothing. This test determines whether or not you remain here.”

  “Or return to your pack with your tail between your legs,” Rex added.

  The guardians circled Curt, their fangs exposed and eyes gleaming with battle lust. Not bothering to respond in words, Curt shifted to his wolf form. His features elongated and his thick ivory fangs lengthened. A wavy chestnut pelt covered him from head to toe, making the fit of his uniform a bit uncomfortable. He was thankful he’d decided not to change into his dress uniform until just before the meeting with Lady Altah or it would have surely been destroyed.

  He hadn’t time for further thought as Kyros and Rex attacked him simultaneously. Curt fought back, calling upon years of experience as well as brute strength and the raw determination that had always set him apart from other wolves. Separately Rex and Kyros were formidable opponents, but together they were unbeatable. Curt knew this, but was determined to make these wolves pay for their victory in blood. They wanted to know how tough he could be and how far he would go to carry out his duty. The guardians were about to find out.

  He wasn’t sure how long they fought in that windowless dungeon. He only knew they tore at each other with fangs and claws, a whirling, snarling mass of wolf flesh, until their panting breaths filled the room and all three practically stumbled from exhaustion.

  Finally Rex and Kyros backed Curt into a corner, their red-tinged eyes fixed on him, their fangs dripping bloody saliva. Like Curt, blood and sweat matted their pelts and they growled incessantly.

  With a final massive leap, Curt knocked Rex onto his back. Kyros leapt on top of him, his claws sinking into his shoulders. All three rolled around the stone floor until they broke apart.

  Kyros pushed himself to his feet and shifted to his human form. His long bond hair clung wetly to his arms and back. Blood streaked his face and chest. Glancing at Rex, an unspoken communication passed between them before Rex also reverted to his human shape.

  Panting, his body stinging from his wounds and limbs heavy from exertion, Curt remained in his wolf form, waiting…

  Kyros took a step forward and extended his hand. “Welcome to the palace, Captain.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Curt also shifted to his human form and clasped Kyros’ hand. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Good to have you on board,” Rex added and also offered his hand, which Curt took.

  “Now I suggest we clean these wounds and get ready for your introduction to Lady Altah,” Kyros said.

  Nodding, Curt followed Kyros and Rex out of the dungeon.

  Chapter Two

  In the great hall, Lady Altah sat on her throne atop a raised platform at the far end of the room. Vesta and the bloodmaids knelt on the floor to her right. In their man form, Kyros and Rex stood on either side of the Vampire Ruler. Though Vesta couldn’t see them from her current position, she had noted upon entering the hall that the guardians bore scratches and bruises on their faces, a sign that Altah had been right about the fight of initiation for the new Captain of the Guard. Vesta knew the extent of the guardian’s battle skills so she wondered if Curt Razorpaw had been left in one piece.

  She got her answer a moment later when the door opened and the new Captain strode inside. No stranger to werewolves, Vesta had long ago learned to bury her distaste for their sometimes crude behavior and aside from Julian she’d never been attracted to one. Until now.

  Curt wasn’t especially tall, just slightly above average for his species, but with an exceptionally pleasing build. His blue and gold Brigadier uniform, decorated with a multitude of semiprecious stones wolves used as medals, accentuated his broad shoulders and long, sinewy legs. Though lean, he emanated wolfish strength that sent a ripple of lust down Vesta’s spine. His long, chestnut hair was bound at his nape and wound into a single tight braid that hung halfway down his back.

  Razorpaw had a magnetism that hadn’t come through in the computer-generated picture. Most of it radiated from his wide set blue eyes that were intense enough to burn down a fortress of ice. His handsome face, with its longish nose and square jaw, bore several bruises and claw marks from his bout with Altah’s guardians. Vesta felt a rush of admiration for a man who could survive a fight with two of the best wolf warriors in the world with apparently few injuries.

  He approached the throne and his gaze riveted briefly to Vesta, making her heartbeat quicken. Normally she didn’t go for the brutish type but there was no denying Razorpaw had a certain charm.

  Upon reaching Altah, he dropped to one knee yet his gaze remained fixed on her. Many Rulers would take this as a symbol of defiance, but Vesta knew Altah would instead consider it strength and confidence,
two qualities she appreciated.

  “My Lady,” he said. “Brigadier Curt Razorpaw now and forevermore at your service.”

  The pleasant pitch of his voice, neither too deep nor too high, surprised Vesta. Why had she expected a husky growl from the likes of him?

  “You may rise,” Altah said. “It’s good to have you here, Brigadier Razorpaw. I’m sure this will be the beginning of a mutually beneficial relationship between you and the Vampire Nation. We are pleased to accept your services.”

  At that moment Vesta realized she had been focusing her attention on Razorpaw. She managed to tear her gaze away and noticed the bloodmaids staring at him like they’d never seen a man before. Vesta hoped she hadn’t been gazing at him with the same lust-stricken expression. She glanced sharply at the bloodmaids until they finally caught her reprimanding look. Immediately they snapped to attention, though several blushed.

  Good heavens, he was only a wolf.

  But what a wolf. He was so raw. So virile. So…

  “Vesta, Brigadier Razorpaw has had a long journey and I’m sure he would like to retire. Which bloodmaid has been assigned to see to his needs?”

  “I will!” came a collective shout that nearly made Vesta cringe. Several bloodmaids waved their hands in the air like schoolgirls vying for the teacher’s attention.

  By Altah’s cold look, she was no more pleased by the bloodmaids’ behavior than Vesta. What had come over these women? They had been well trained in how to behave.

  “Vesta, would you attend him, please?” Altah requested.

  Her? Oh lord. Vesta’s stomach tightened. The last thing she wanted was to “attend” this handsome beast who made her nipples tight and her pussy wet with a single look, yet she couldn’t possibly refuse. It was bad enough the bloodmaids had forgotten they were dealing with the new Captain of the Guard, not a damn rock star.

  “Of course, My Lady.” Vesta stood and approached Razorpaw whose gaze swept her once from head to toe before he turned back to Altah and her guardians. He bowed from the neck, turned on his heel and headed for the door, leaving Vesta to hurry after him.

  How rude! She’d heard stories about his uncouth behavior and it seemed that no matter how he looked or talked, he was as crude as rumor said.

  In the corridor, Vesta quickened her pace even more and called, “Brigadier Razorpaw!” She didn’t bother keeping the irritation from her voice. Initially the idea of attending his bath had interested her more than she wanted to admit. Now thorough annoyance tainted her desire.

  He paused, sighed deeply and turned to her. Again she nearly lost her breath at the sight of those vivid blue eyes.

  “Yes?” he said and waited until she caught up to him.

  “Do you always walk so fast?”

  He cocked his head slightly to one side and narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

  Rather than let her irritation overcome her, Vesta tried other tactics. She offered him a pleasant, slightly flirtatious smile and said, “That’s what I like. A man on a mission. Do you think you could slow your pace just a bit? These shoes aren’t made for sprinting.”

  He glanced down at her high-heeled gold sandals with a multitude of delicate straps wrapping around her ankles and calves. When greeting an important male guest, Vesta and the bloodmaids generally wore tasteful, though ultra-feminine clothes.

  Curt’s gaze traveled slowly up her body. She was clad in a black gown with a gauzy skirt and fitted top with a round neckline that accentuated her full breasts. The tip of his tongue ran over his upper lip and when he met her gaze a twinge of fear darted through her at the bestial expression in his eyes. Lord, he was about the wolfiest were she’d ever met, so different from Julian who was probably the vampiest were she’d ever known.

  “Of course.”

  She fell into step beside him. “Thank you. Since we haven’t met properly, I’m…”

  “Vesta Tiberius. One-hundred ten years old. Five feet nine inches tall. One hundred sixty-two pounds.”

  Vesta glanced at him sharply and curled her lip. “How dare you!”

  “It’s my duty to familiarize myself with the inhabitants of this palace. I read your profile on the computer. Continuing. You were born in the Vampire Capital City to the prominent judge, Florian Tiberius, and Amita Verne, the handmaiden of the previous Vampire Ruler. Raised in the palace. Companion to Lady Altah and trained since the age of eight to serve as her handmaiden. Graduated from Thornheights University at the top of your class with a degree in Social Science. Poised, intelligent and exceptionally beautiful.”

  Vesta raised an eyebrow in surprise. “My profile said exceptionally beautiful?”

  The slightest smile played around his solemn lips. “No. That was personal observation.”

  Warmth spread through Vesta at the compliment, but she remained outwardly calm. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was attracted to him -- even if it was true. There was no room in her life for an arrogant, overbearing soldier, no matter how gorgeous he might be.

  “Your chamber is on the ground level, I believe,” Vesta said. In that location, he was across the yard from the barracks and easily accessible to his men in case of emergency.

  “It is. If you’re uncomfortable attending me I’m more than capable of bathing myself.”

  Again he surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to consider her feelings in the matter and let her off the hook so easily. “Thank you, Brigadier, however I’m more than capable of performing my duty.”

  “Were that so, you wouldn’t be in this position right now.”

  “Excuse me?” she said, resisting the urge to snap at him.

  “Your bloodmaids displayed a surprising lack of discipline.”

  “And they will be reprimanded.” Fuck this pompous ass. Again she forced a pleasant smile. “They were simply overcome by your exceptional handsomeness.”

  This time he glanced at her sharply and raised an eyebrow. A feeling of triumph washed over her and she added, “Just a personal observation, Brigadier.”

  They continued to his chamber in silence.

  When they reached it, Vesta glanced around. The spacious living room led into a bedroom with a courtyard view. Other doors opened to the kitchen and den. Plainly decorated with simple oak furniture, cream colored walls and a cocoa rug, the rooms did not yet contain any of Razorpaw’s belongings and seemed generic. Vesta wondered what they would look like once the new Captain fully settled in.

  “I’ll prepare the bath,” Vesta said, her heart fluttering yet again. If she was already this aroused, what would happen once she had her hands on his wet, naked body?

  He nodded and they walked through the archway leading to the bedroom. A door in the far corner led to the bath chamber. In the Vampire Nation bathing was considered recreation as well as necessity. Elaborate baths, both public and private, were common. The palace had many luxurious baths and the one in the Captain’s chamber was no exception. Made of tan and white marble, the room had a spacious shower for efficiency and a large square pool in the center of the room -- the hot water bath. There were several thick green rugs scattered across the marble floor. Another arched entrance led to the toilet and pedestal sink.

  Vesta approached the bath, satisfied that it was spotlessly clean and filled with water. The closet was stocked with fresh sheets and towels as well as a variety of soap, shampoo and bath oils. She selected ones with a fresh, aquatic scent that seemed to fit the Captain’s nature, grabbed a couple of thick towels and a pillow.

  She’d just finished arranging the articles by the edge of the pool when Curt stepped, naked, into the bathroom. Vesta’s pulse raced and she almost forgot to breathe. His broad shoulders and powerful chest tapered to a lean waist, well-defined abs and long, sleekly muscled legs. Best of all was the dusting of hair on his chest, legs, and forearms. While many Vampire males worked on developing their bodies, it was customary for them to remove most of their hair to accentuate the muscles. Vesta preferred some hair on males.
Wolves rarely, if ever, removed their hair, feeling it emasculated them.

  Even with several fading bruises and bandages on his torso from his earlier fight with Altah’s guardians, he exuded power and intensity. It was all Vesta could do to keep from licking her lips at the sight of him. She longed to run her hands over that chiseled, hairy chest. How would it feel if he kissed her? The image of being locked in his embrace, of their tongues thrusting into each other’s mouths, and best of all, of her biting his gorgeous neck had her so aroused she felt dampness on her panties.

  Get a hold of yourself, Vesta. He’s just a wolf. It’s not as if you’ve never seen one before.

  She knew how keen wolves’ senses were and the last thing she wanted was for Razorpaw to catch the scent of her lust, if he hadn’t already. If he had, he didn’t reveal it.

  Then she realized maybe she shouldn’t be so worried. By the look of his thick, semi-erect cock, something -- or someone -- had aroused him as well, and since she was the only person in the room…

  His gaze swept over her, lingering for a moment on the outline of her stiff nipples against the thin fabric of her dress. Then he approached a wastebasket and began peeling off the bandages. The delicious scent of his blood nearly made Vesta’s head spin.

  Why had Altah put her in this position? She needed to keep control of herself. It was bad enough Razorpaw already thought her bloodmaids undisciplined. The last thing she needed was to go to pieces around him.

  She retrieved a first aid kit from the closet and approached him. “I can help you.”

  “They’re mostly healed by now,” he said, ripping tape and gauze from claw marks on his ribs.

  Vesta stood behind him and lifted her hand to peel off a bandage on his shoulder. She trembled a bit, but willed herself to remain sure and steady as she gently peeled away the tape.

  “Don’t be fussy. Just rip it off,” he told her.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He snorted contemptuously. “I’ve been through more battles than you have years of life. Tortured by enemies. Mauled by creatures you’ve never imagined in savage little islands you’ve probably never heard about.”