CHAPTER ONE

L ance leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

“Thank you, I appreciate you doing this for me,” Sofia said, giving him the same nervous glance she did every damn day. She wrapped her arms around her prison uniform–clad body and looked away. “You should go,” she added more quietly.

Lance clenched his jaw at the dismissal.

It had been six weeks since he’d arrested Sofia for her crimes against the vampire race. She was now a prisoner in the Moretti royal castle in Italy, back in Rome.

Lance had led the team that had busted open the rebellion’s operation which had been blowing up Moretti castles and killing vampires all over the world. Sure, Stefano Russo, their archnemesis, may have been the brains behind it, but Sofia had been the female sitting in the corner fucking office.

Simply put, Sofia Ferrero was their enemy.

Yet, the moment he’d seen those big brown eyes and the familiar fear within them, something had shifted within him. No, it hadn’t been love at first sight—he wasn’t a damn human. And sure, he was attracted to her. Sofia was sexy as fuck even when she’d been lying on the ground in cuffs with her skirt half over her ass. Hell, if the two of them were in different circumstances, he would definitely role-play that with her. His cock reminded him of his desire for her every single fucking day, twitching left, right, and center.

But they weren’t.

She was in the Moretti royal prison, and Lance was one of the most senior members of the king’s army, so that was a mood killer if ever a guy had one.

There was more. A memory he’d suppressed—mostly—from centuries ago. A memory which would haunt him until his last breath. Lance recognized the nightmare swirling in those chocolate globes of hers, the very same pain he’d seen in his own sister’s eyes. The one that made him want to pull her into his arms while drawing his gun, sword, dagger—he wasn’t fussy—and destroy the one responsible for that look.

Once you’d seen the results of sexual abuse, you could never unsee them. And how fucking unlucky was he to have come across it twice in his life? You see, it was a rare occurrence in the vampire race. Females were respected, even treasured to some degree, because of the low reproductive rate of their kind. Females only became fertile when they bonded with their mate, and that could take centuries. Then it could take twenty or more years to become pregnant if the mates were fortunate enough for it to actually happen at all.

It was why there were only approximately one million vampires on the planet compared to the seven billion humans roaming around.

Therefore, even the biggest douchebag didn’t force himself on a female. Hell, males just didn’t need to; mother nature had gifted vampires with strength, abilities, beauty, and pheromones that attracted both vampires and humans sexually, so there was no damn reason someone had to push their dick into any damn hole, to put it bluntly.

Not to mention, if you had any kind of shit for brains, you’d think ahead to the moment the female bonded. Because sure as hell her male would be protective as fuck and be making to end your life. And it was punishable by death. Few things were in the vampire kingdom, but rape was.

He let out a low groan.

Just thinking that word made his blood boil. Lance could only imagine how it felt to learn your mate had been subjected to such a horrific experience.

He wasn’t in a hurry to mate. He thoroughly enjoyed his fruitful sex life with both human and vampire females.

They didn’t call him Lancelot for nothing. He liked to think it was because he was a little more charming and smooth than some of the other big-ass vampires he was surrounded by. A wink went a long way in coaxing a grin from the ladies—and spreading their legs—but apparently, that was far too much work for some of them.

Since the day of Sofia’s arrest, however, he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind.

Constantly.

Yeah, he knew it was because of Janie. He didn’t need some shrink to diagnose that obviousness. Lance had spent years trying to get rid of the guilt that he hadn’t done enough for her. Not that he had known what to do. Neither had their parents. Their father had locked her in her room for weeks, berating her and blaming her. It had been his way of protecting her and dealing with his failure as a father for not protecting his little girl. Still, Lance had paced the house, struggling to hear the words out of his pa’s mouth while his mother busied herself with cooking, slamming ingredients on the large wooden kitchen table.

One evening, Lance had snuck into Janie’s bedroom and held her while she cried in his arms. As she had hiccupped and laid her head on his shoulder, Janie had shared the barest details of the incident. Lance hadn’t pushed for more, believing her recovery would take time and she would talk when she was ready. Afterward, he would look back and wonder if he had, whether she still might be alive today. Hell, he questioned everything they’d done, and wondered the same.

To this day, no one knew who the male offender had been.

Nobody had been held accountable for their crime against Janie.

Nobody had ever spoken up for her and defended her. It had all been kept hushed, which was another crime in itself.

One day while they were sleeping, he had heard her scream. Lance had sat upright in bed and heard her moving throughout the house. He’d known immediately. He had no idea how he knew, but he just had. Lance had leaped out of bed, stumbled barefoot across the floor, wrenched the lock of his door open, clambered down the stairs, and ran after her.

But he had been too late.

Janie had turned as she stepped through the front door and out into daylight. Sorrow had filled her eyes, laced with her unspoken apology and utter grief and pain. Then her head had thrust back in a scream as she burst into flames.

Moments later, she had been naught but a pile of ash.

Lance had screamed, dropping to his knees by the time his parents had joined him in the shadowed alcove of their house. His father had rushed to shut the door and demanded to know what was wrong with him. When Lance had calmed down enough to tell them, his mother had ripped open the door and stared at the pile of ash, joining him in her own anguish. His father’s guttural cry had been the last straw.

Their family hadn’t been the same since that morning. How could it be? Each of them hating themselves as much as each other for not doing more to help their beloved Janie.

In the end, Lance had left. He was a full-grown vampire with built up anger he was finding difficult to control. With no job or money, he had found himself in Rome in the year 1610, in an underground fighting club. He earned pittance to beat others up or allow himself to be beaten. Both were as enjoyable as the other, and it paid for shelter and food.

It hadn’t taken him long to discover he was highly attractive to females. Apparently, females of all kinds liked big, tall, and fucking angry males. So he spent his nights fighting hard and fucking harder, right until he had met Craig, commander of the Moretti Royal Army, and the male had changed his life.

“I’ll leave you to settle in,” Lance said, snapping back to the present and running his hand through his hair. “You will be safe here, Sofia. You know that, right?”

“Yes. Grazie , you have done enough.”

Had he?

If he was being truly honest with himself, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her she was safe, and he’d never let another fucker touch her again. Yet after six long damn weeks, she was still jumpy when he got too close.

Lance realized the circumstances hadn’t been ideal for building trust or feeling secure. When Sofia had been arrested, along with dozens of her team members, the vampire race had been exposed to humans for the first time in their existence.

The Royal Army had gone into full emergency evacuation of the royal family and the prisoners to their secure mansion in Tuscany. The property wasn’t set up for such a huge number of prisoners—hell, neither was the castle—so they had been crammed together in makeshift prisons.

Lance had been aware it was the last thing Sofia wanted, sharing a small space with dozens of males. He had kept a close eye on her and removed her from the makeshift cells regularly for interrogation. He had hoped to build trust and give her a sense of relief. It was all he could do in these unprecedented times.

A week ago they had all gone back to Casa Moretti in Rome, and Sofia had finally told him who had harmed her. She’d given little detail, but what she’d told him had been enough for him to jump up and punch a hole in the wall.

“ I’m having you moved, ” he had yelled, then cringed when she had wrapped her arms around herself.

By this time, Lance was well aware his cock popped its head up every time he saw Sofia, but never forgot she was the fucking enemy. She was their prisoner. He couldn’t touch her. He couldn’t save her. But he could protect her. Which is why he had arranged for her to be in her own private cell.

Lance had petitioned the king, who was a compassionate monarch. When Vincent heard what Russo had done, he’d agreed she could be separated from the males in the prison. They all agreed no female should live in fear after such an experience, even if she was one of the rebels.

Lance had been relieved when Sofia had trusted him and shared her story. His need to protect her was growing by the day, his need to touch her growing out of control as he found himself stroking his cock daily for relief.

How could he feel this way about a female who had recently been raped?

Was he a complete and utter asshole?

But he knew it wasn’t one sided. Lance believed Sofia felt his attraction and returned it, though she tried to hide it. Some days he told himself it was Stockholm syndrome, but then he’d catch a glance and see her desire in those big brown eyes.

They still housed fear, but he was beginning to see she hadn’t been completely broken. Prison was hardly a peaceful place to heal wounds. Her spirit was strong; he could sense it.

Not moving from his spot, he watched Sofia take in her new space.

A large bed, two cabinets, a table and chairs, a sofa, and off to her right, a connecting bathroom. A large window looked out across the grounds at the rear of the castle. During daylight, the shutters would automatically close as they did throughout all the Moretti properties.

Sofia walked to the window and wrapped her arms around herself. He knew he should leave, just as he knew he should despise her.

But he didn’t.

Their relationship had developed in a complex way. They were prisoner and prison guard. They had never acknowledged their attraction to each other, and it would be inappropriate to do so.

He could never have her.

She was forbidden love.

Or lust. Whatever.

Lance shook his head. God, he could go to a bar and walk out with no less than three gorgeous women on his arms, and that was on a slow night. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about the female standing in front of him.

They were finally alone. And he felt himself bursting.

“Sofia, God, I wish you would talk to me more,” he said, his voice full of frustration. She turned, her eyes wide. “Tell me what you know. Perhaps...”

Perhaps what, Lance?

He berated himself. As if she would suddenly be pardoned and they could magically walk off into the sunset?

Idiot.

“What? What do you want from me, Lance?” she snapped.

His eyebrows raised at her sudden boldness.

“I want you to fucking talk to me. I am trying to help you.”

She shook her head, eyes dropping to the floor.

“You can’t. What’s done is done. Stefano is a dangerous male, and he will eventually punish me if I talk.”

“You don’t think I can protect you?” Lance growled. “You do see this uniform I’m wearing, right?”

She sighed at him like he was an idiot. He was beginning to feel like one.

“Yes. I’m not blind. I know you’re one of the senior lieutenant commanders in King Moretti’s army.”

Lance stepped further into the room, stopping a foot away from her. Sofia was much shorter than him—unsurprising, given he was six foot three—so she had to tilt her head to look at him.

Ever conscious he couldn’t, and shouldn’t, touch her, Lance still needed her to understand he would let nothing happen to her. He just wished he could figure out why the fuck it was so important to him. He didn’t need sex from her; though apparently, his cock disagreed with him on that matter.

“One of four,” Lance growled softly. Only Brayden, the Moretti prince, and Craig, the commander, were more senior. “I’m not without some damn influence, Sofia.” He gestured with his hand at the surrounding room. “Obviously.”

“You don’t know what Stefano is capable of.”

“Of course I do; he’s been our enemy for centuries. Russo cannot get to you in here. Work with us, Sofia. Help us break down this rebellion, then...” He wanted to promise her something, but he would be lying. “You need to tell us what you know.”

Fearful eyes stared back at him. “You’re wrong. He got to the queen inside your walls once before. If Stefano Russo wants me back, he will come for me.”

Lance frowned.

How did she know that? Stefano and his two brothers had in fact infiltrated their Maine castle and captured the queen months earlier. Two of the Russo brothers had been captured, but Stefano, the leader of the rebellion, had escaped.

“He told you this?”

She shook her head. “No, I heard rumors. There were others with him, no ?”

Lance nodded once, his cock reacting while his brain tried to ignore her gorgeous, soft Italian accent.

The entire castle had gone into lockdown a few months back during the coup, and clearly the walls had loose lips.

There was no reason for him not to confirm it. It was true the Russo brothers had brought soldiers along to assist, but most of them had been captured.

“Right, of course; you’ve seen Luca and Marco inside the prison.”

“Seen and heard.” She shrugged, pressing her lips together.

Ah yes, the younger Russo brothers were well known for their bickering and ranting in their native Italian. It was likely she knew the males. While he hated the reminder of her alliance with the pricks, Lance smiled at her small joke, and for a moment, their eyes met.

“I want to trust you,” Sofia whispered. “I really do, but he’s dangerous.”

“You can.” Lance took a small step toward her and raised his hand without thinking to cup her cheek. She flinched, and he dropped it, cursing.

For six long weeks, Lance had wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He wasn’t a patient man by nature; he was a soldier. He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter because he couldn’t be with her, but for some reason, it mattered. He wanted to take this woman to his bed. He wanted...what he could never have.

Even if she hadn’t been their prisoner, Sofia was wounded on the inside. She may never want a male to touch her again.

The thought made him wild.

Then Lance noticed she hadn’t stepped away. His eyes met hers and slowly dropped to her mouth. He watched as soft pink lips parted slightly and her tongue licked along the bottom one, wetting it in preparation for his. It was an unconscious move, but one that told him everything he really fucking wanted to know.

Her body wanted his.

Rich energy sizzled between them as Lance drew in a slow, deep breath, not wanting to startle her. He wanted to groan as his cock grew harder and pressed against his zipper, eager to be free.

“Give me a sign here.” His voice a dry whisper.

Sofia blinked, and her lips moved ever so slightly, but she didn’t move away.

Lance’s body ached as he lifted his hand again, watching as Sofia’s eyes followed its path. She began to shake as he placed it gently on her face.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.”

She blinked. What did the damn blinking mean? Was this like blink once for yes, twice for no? He was terrified of fucking this up.

And what this was, he had no idea.

Regardless, fraternizing with a prisoner was a fucking no-no. Yet here he was with his damn paws on her.

Sofia closed her eyes, and her head moved a slight inch up and to the side, ready.

Lance leaned closer, so close he could feel the heat of her body and her breath on his face. Frozen in the moment, he took every single inch of her in. He didn’t want to miss a single piece of her if this would be their only intimate moment together.

Sofia was gorgeous, with movie star classic features. Her skin was perfection. Even without makeup, her olive skin was blemish free, with only a few freckles. Her eyelashes were thick while her long dark hair was pulled back harshly. But Lance knew what it looked like out. Out, up, wet, dry—he’d been watching her on the prison monitors like a damn stalker for weeks.

“Sir. I’m sorry I’m late!” The door burst open and Timmy, one of the Moretti officers, stood at attention inside the room.

Lance moved fast. He turned, nudging Sofia behind him, hiding the intimate moment from the officer.

“Apology accepted.” He stepped to the side and introduced them. “Timmy will be your personal guard. He has, er, experience looking after some of our more important females, and I’m sure you will find him good company.”

Timmy frowned. “Won’t I be outside the door, sir?”

Lance smiled. He was hard to dislike. “Yes, you will, but I’m sure Sofia will require items from time to time and will want to exchange some dialogue with you.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Timmy,” Sofia said.

“Thank you,” Timmy replied, looking confused.

Lance understood the male’s confusion. Sofia was a known rebel, and it appeared she was getting preferential treatment. The entire castle knew the vampire rebels had been responsible for the bombing of royal properties, along with centuries of threats to the throne. Still, he was a good soldier and wouldn’t do anything other than follow orders.

Lance turned back to Sofia. “I am just along the hall, so just...know you are safe. At least in your own space now.”

“Thank you. I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”

Their eyes met and the fire from a moment ago sparked again. Sofia chewed her bottom lip, and he barely suppressed a groan.

“You’re welcome.”

Lance walked out of the room, leaving Timmy to lock up.

Fuck.

He’d nearly fucking kissed her!

Adjusting his pants, Lance reminded himself that Sofia was their enemy. He’d have to find a way to protect her while remaining at a distance.

She was a goddamn prisoner.

And a victim of sexual abuse.