"Do you know your daughter is not well? She is quite mad and suffers memory loss. We have been trying to help her."

"By locking her up? Do you think herbs, oils and teas are going to cure her?"

"She is being well taken care of. Hesta is the best healer in the land."

"Perhaps for human ailments--coughs, colds, aches. My daughter needs a powerful cure." Her expression hardened. "If you don't mind, I will see her now and we'll be on our way."

His patience snapped. "You cannot take her away. She has information we need. Besides, Balkathan will make attempts on her life and the only safe place for her is here in my castle."

Her expression went cold. "Do you really think your paltry band of Lycan guards can protect her from Balkathan's fleet of monsters?"

He clenched his fists at his sides. She knew what they were! He growled, narrowing his gaze on her and took a threatening step towards her. Irritated, he noted she did not retreat, but stood her ground, glaring up at him. Was this woman fearless, or was she as mad as her daughter? Mad, he decided because no one dared challenge him.

"How do you know of us?" he growled. "It is a secret we have guarded for two hundred years. You are not a Lycan. If you were, I would sense you."

"There are other immortals, Your Highness, immortals with powers more formidable than your strength and speed."

He grimaced, running his gaze over her face. There was only one other immortal race. No! She couldn't be. He detested her kind. It was a reviled race who drank the blood of innocents. A race ruled by the devil. They didn't look like her. She had the face of an angel.

"You are a vampire," he said hoarsely. He cursed his attraction to her, realising with disgust, the heat in his loins was still present. Apparently, knowing what she was hadn't lessened his lust for her.