Forbidden Desires : The Immortals Book One

Chapter 10

Nefertari stiffened. She was sure he knew about her affair, but with his hands so full with Libya he could never catch her in the act.

"I built this temple for you," Ramses continued. "I want you etched into history by my side. How can you say I'm not kind?"

Unable to listen to more Nefertari yanked herself free. "You built this temple for yourself-You've become so blinded by your own glory you can't see what's right in front of you! We can't go on like this," she moaned, tears streaming down her face. If only she could just leave, just run away with Cain and never return but--

A messenger ran in, leaning on his knees to catch his breath. "My lord...my lady...I bring urgent news from the front." he panted, standing up to address the sovereigns.

Nefertari wiped at her face, her makeup smeared around her eyes.

Ramses turned to the messenger, gesturing for him to speak. "Out with it." he barked.

The messenger wrung his hands in fear, looking between them. "Your son--the Crown Prince, Amun-her-khepeshef...has been killed. The Libyans attacked our camp in the middle of the night." He bowed his head. "My condolences, Your Graces."

Stunned, Nefertari froze. Not Amun...her firstborn, her pride and joy, their heir; he was still so young. A keening wail left her throat as she sank to the ground, this tenth calamity too much to bear.

A sharp pain settled low and made her clutch her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. As she gasped for air, the front of her white dress became stained with red, the stain steadily growing. Oh no, the baby...

The sight of blood made her vision narrow and fade, the shouting voices around her distorted as she succumbed to unconsciousness.

****

"Hrm..." Nathalie grumbled, blinking awake. That was the beginning of the end-she'd lost the child, contracted an infection and there was nothing the doctors could do; antibiotics were far off. Cain refused to accept it, holding his bleeding hand over her mouth as she lay dying. She was grateful for it of course, but she always wondered if that was where her story should've ended.

She smacked her lips with a frown; empathizing with the Lycan brought up some unpleasant memories. She made it a point to keep that to a minimum during their time together. Her relentless pragmatism won out again; she doubted it would move him to release her, so what was the point? Her eyebrow raised as she tried to move, momentarily confused when she couldn't stretch her legs.

Yes, that's right-the werewolf was still on her lap, fast asleep. His resting face brought out his sharp jawline and chiseled cheekbones. His raven hair grayed at the temples; he'd led a very stressful life from what she'd seen in his blood. Without thinking she moved a tuft of hair out of his face-he reminded her of a fairytale prince sleeping soundly under a tree. Her steady hand reached out to brush the stubble on his cheek...

Gaspard slept peacefully, dreaming of the visage of his late wife. This dream was so real-his mate was right in front of him, he could almost smell her. No...he could smell her; that same scent from all those years ago. Marie was ever elusive, remaining just out of his reach. If only he could reach a little farther...

With eyes still closed the wolf sprang upright and pressed his lips to hers. His arms, a Venus flytrap as they enveloped her, pulling her close. Her hands gripped his shoulders as his tongue swept into her mouth.

He kissed her desperately, thinking nothing of it when a fang grazed his bottom lip. Only the sharp pain of a bite brought him to his senses as he reeled back, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of the stunned vampire, her fangs poking out of her swollen lips. Oh no.