LITMIR.BIZ

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notice.

      Well, that was not quite true. Joachim was hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, his head tilted to the side as he gazed up at Valerian with undeniable sparks of fury.

      What was his cousin angry about now? “Line up,” Valerian commanded the entire group. “Now.” The sharpness of his tone finally snagged their attention.

      Slowly they ambled into a clumsy line, only a few of them trying to appear alert. His frown deepened. They were tall and well-muscled, his men, with bronzed skin and perfectly chiseled features. The force of their beauty sometimes caused grown women to weep. But right now they sported lines of tension around their eyes and mouths, shaky grips and unsteady legs.

      “I need you strong and capable, but you’re as weak as babes, every one of you.” At any moment Darius, King of the Dragons, would learn Valerian had taken this palace, defeating everyone inside, and attack. How quickly these warriors would fall if they were challenged today.

      His hands fisted at his sides. Defeat was not something he allowed. Ever. No, he would rather die. A warrior won. Always. No exceptions.

      Broderick sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face, his expression grim. “We need sex, Valerian, and we need it now.”

      “I know.” Unfortunately, the three exhausted humans sleeping in his bed would never be able to handle all of these lust-hungry nymphs at once.

      He could send a handful of soldiers into the Outer City to capture sirens—a race of women who reveled in sex just as the nymphs did. Dangerous women, yes. Women who lured, seduced and killed. Well, tried to kill. But they were wonderfully satisfying to tumble, completely worth the risk.

      However, the few times his men had entered the city in these past weeks, females of every race had remained well hidden, avoiding the nymphs as if they were hideous, foul-smelling demons. None wanted to find themselves enslaved to a nymph’s dark, sexual hunger, losing their very identity, wishing only to please their lover. An inevitable outcome. Even for mates. Those females, whomever they happened to be, wherever they happened to be found, were treasured, but they were still enslaved.

      “I can smell the humans on you, and it’s making my own need all the more intense,” Dorian said. With his obsidian hair, godlike features and mischievous sense of humor, women of every race usually flocked to him. There was nothing mischievous about him now, though. He radiated jealousy and resentment. “I’d kill you if I had the strength.”

      More guilt swept through Valerian. He had to make this right. As much as he hated to admit it, there was only one true solution to this predicament.

      “Do you still wish to travel through the portal?” he asked, bracing his hands behind his back. Since discovering the strange, upright pool in the caves beneath this palace—the very pool the women had used to travel from the surface world to Atlantis—his men had begged to enter it so many times he’d lost count. Each time his answer had been the same: Gods, no. His friend Layel, King of the Vampires, had told him that Atlanteans could not survive on the surface for long periods of time.

      Besides, he needed his men here, ready to fight and defend. But weak as they were now, these warriors would not obtain a victory over a tail-chasing griffin, much less a brutally savage fire-breather.

      If there was a chance they could find more human women, traveling to the surface would be worth the risk, he realized.

      “Well?” he said.

      Nearly all of his men smiled and closed around him. A chorus of “Yes” burst from their mouths. Only Theophilus remained quiet, but then, he had no need to visit the surface. He was mated to the fourth human female in residence.

      Mated. Valerian tried not to cringe. When a nymph mated, he mated for life. No matter his age, no matter his circumstances, when he found the woman destined to live at his side, his body would crave no other; his heart would beat only for one. The one. He’d been told a nymph would know this “one” the moment he scented her, and she would, in turn, recognize him, choosing him above all others.

      Valerian, as well as many of his men, lived in fear of finding his mate, for too well did he enjoy his freedom. He couldn’t imagine desiring only one woman. He couldn’t imagine one woman being able to hold his interest and sate all of his passions for longer than a single night.

      Perhaps he was not destined to take a mate. A man could hope, anyway.

      “Will we travel through the portal?” someone asked, cutting into his thoughts.

      “Yes,” he said. He splayed his arms wide in surrender. “At last, my friends, I relent.”

      “How soon can we leave?” Broderick.

      “Thank you, great king.” Shivawn.

      “Gods, my cock needs some female attention.” Dorian.

      Relief dripped from their voices. Already lust burned white-hot in their eyes, strengthening them. He didn’t blame them for their eagerness to leave the palace. He would have been reduced to a snarling beast had he been forced to go without a woman’s sweetness for as long as they had. But that was something he, as king, had never had to endure. And would never have to endure, he was sure.

      His carnal appeal was greater than any other’s, and quite simply, no woman could resist him. A fact his men had long since accepted—and he himself enjoyed. “Most of you will have to remain here, guarding the palace,” he informed them. “And those who go cannot stay long. No more than an hour, mayhap two. We’ll bring back as many as we can, then decide who gets whom.”

      “We should have gone days ago,” Joachim grumbled.

      Valerian chose to ignore him. He knew frustration spoke for his cousin.

      “Why do we need to return so quickly?” Dorian asked, frown returning. “I want to enjoy a lover or two before coming home.”

      “We know nothing of the surface, their people or their weapons, but more than that we do not know when the dragons will attack us. We must go in, grab the women we want and hurry back.”

      Broderick’s sandy brows arched. “We?”

      “I will lead you, of course.” He wouldn’t send his men into uncharted territory without him. “But do not worry. I won’t be taking a woman for myself. The three happily sated and sleeping females in my room provide enough stimulation for me.” For now. “I’ll leave the claiming to you.”

      Chapter Two

      A FLORIDA WEDDING. Complete with wide expanse of glistening beach, crashing cerulean waves, magical pink-gold sunset and warm, sultry breezes. White rose petals were scattered along the fine-grained sand, dancing and twirling with every gentle wind. The couple even now pledging their undying love stared deeply into each other’s eyes, their hands clutched together, their lips softly parted in expectation of the coming kiss.

      Was there anything sweeter? Anything more romantic?

      Was there anything more gagworthy?

      Shaye Holling expelled a frustrated breath and gazed down at her seashell bikini top and grass skirt. Who picked this kind of crap for bridesmaids? Someone who wanted them to look like hideous beast monsters, that’s who. The uglier the bridesmaids, the prettier the bride.

      God, she was afraid to ponder what the richly dressed crowd of onlookers thought of her let-me-give-you-a-lap-dance hula outfit. I probably resemble one of the slutty undead.

      Pale, that was Shaye. Pale skin, pale hair. More than one person had teased her throughout the years, calling her Casper, Snow Queen, Vampire, Albino. The esteem crushing list went on and on. The only color she possessed came from her eyes; they were a deep, rich brown and were, in her opinion, her one redeeming feature.

      She could have used the self-tanner her mom had sent her for this event, but the consequences from the last time she’d tried that type of product were still too fresh in her mind: frighteningly orange

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