With these three books, he'd established a trio of facts.
His physical need wasn't only grueling, it was dangerous.
Though her line was partly demonic, it was proud and worthy.
The little sorceress would be under constant threat and would need him as well.
But some things couldn't be uncovered through books, and Trehan had more questions than answers regarding his Bride. He wondered what her personality was like, what her favorite color was. What were her hobbies? What made her laugh?
He considered what he did know about her.
She would bravely-if wrongly-sacrifice herself for the male she loved. She was sensual and curious about sex; no innately cold Bride for him. Yet again he recalled that shy grin as she'd bared her br**sts. She wasn't brazen by nature, but when pleasured, she grew beautifully wanton.
Judging by her book collection, she was fixated on her craft. Trehan was as obsessed with arms as any Dacian, probably more. He surveyed all his weapons displayed in gold cases and thought, She creates weapons; I wield them.
He gazed down at his injured hand. Ah, but she wielded one as well. Was that to be their initial common ground?
The wounds were fading; he found he didn't want them to. No, he hadn't sunk his fangs into her flesh, but she'd given him her own bite. When he remembered the blood welling across his palm and her flash of pride, for some reason he grew aroused once more.
Glancing from the invitation . . . to his books . . . back to the invitation-
Cold steel pressed against Trehan's neck.
Must be Viktor. He wondered if his cousin would finally land a deathblow. They'd been trying to kill each other for hundreds of years.
"You let me take you unawares?" Viktor grated. "What occupies your thoughts so completely?"
"Not completely occupied." Trehan prodded Viktor with the blade he'd managed to slip from his sword belt, the blade now pressed against Viktor's scrotum.
Viktor laughed at Trehan's ear. "I might temporarily lose my balls, old man, but you'll lose your life."
"I've been castrated before. The regeneration was such that you might find my headless fate preferable," he said, cursing his carelessness. Tonight was a night of firsts for Trehan: allowing Viktor to take him unawares, leaving a target alive, his blooding-even his rejection by a female.
Viktor hesitated, then backed away. "It won't prove amusing to end you without a fight." He loved nothing more than fighting. Not surprising-he was the last scion of the House of War, the wrath of the kingdom. "Take out your sword, Cousin."
With a weary exhalation, Trehan sheathed his short blade, then drew his sword. The weapon was one of the only belongings he truly cared about. It had been given to him by his father with the instructions: "Be an example, Son."
Ignoring the twinge in his injured hand, Trehan traced to face Viktor. Though their temperaments were directly opposed-one cold and methodical, one warlike and rash-their looks were so similar they could have been brothers.
Viktor narrowed his green eyes at Trehan. "You're even more pensive than usual. Trouble with your target?"
You have no idea, Trehan thought as he launched the first strike.
Viktor deflected it, and the clang of steel echoed in the spacious library.
"It was that new demon, right?" Viktor asked as he charged. Trehan neatly dodged his sword. Centuries of nearly constant battles between them had made them both superlative swordsmen. "Caspion the Tracker, the one all the females favored?"
All the females. Even mine.
Viktor feinted left, making a short jab to the right; Trehan arched his back, narrowly escaping the sword tip.
"Did the great Trehan actually leave a target alive? No, no, because then you wouldn't be back here." Another thrust.
Trehan parried. "I didn't engage him," he answered, half-tempted to tell his cousin everything. If not Viktor, then whom could he confide in?
No one.
Their relationship was complicated, to say the least. As the last members of their respective houses, they'd been trying to kill each other for most of their lives, yet there was no one Trehan would rather have at his back if they fought a mutual enemy. Viktor also kept his cousin's secrets, refusing to sully himself and Trehan with court politics, preferring to settle their grievances by combat.