Frost and Flame

by Showalter, Gena

  “You hate me,” she said, his incredible heat seeping through her clothing. “For what you believe I’ll become.”

  “I do.”

  “But you...you want me, too?”

  “I do,” he repeated and this time, he sounded drugged. Up, down. Up, down. “I want it to stop. Why won’t it stop?” Agonizingly slow, he trailed his fingers along her collar, then down, down to her breasts.

  She gasped, arching into his wicked touch, shocking him, but delighting him, too. As he squeezed and kneaded her, she watched his face for any type of reaction. His pupils dilated. The sight sent shivers coursing through her. No hint of sickness.

  How many times had she made it to second base with a guy, her mind rock solid but her body plagued by extreme nausea? Before each incident, she’d convinced herself things would be different. Alas. With Bane, her stomach remained calm while the rest of her revolted. Goose bumps spread over her chest and arms, sensitizing her skin. Her nipples beaded, pressing against her bra. Every time she inhaled, friction sparked. Mmm. Friction. Between her legs, the most delicious ache ignited, so unlike anything she’d experienced in the past. Glorious arousal, untainted by sickness.

  What would happen if she yanked Bane closer and—

  No! Don’t go there. Not with him.

  Using the pad of his thumbs, he traced circles around her nipples. “Tell me to walk away, princess.”

  Ahhhh. Please don’t walk away. But, but...he had to leave before she humiliated herself and asked...begged...for more. “Be strong enough to walk away on your own, sweetness.”

  He flinched, then scowled, his arms falling to his side, leaving her bereft and far colder than before.

  Drawing her knees up, creating a block between them, she asked, “What do queens do, exactly?” Back to the subject at hand.

  “Whatever they desire.” He fisted and unfisted his hands, breathing in slowly, exhaling heavily, some of his tension evaporating. “Most queens are cosseted from birth, hidden until their Blood Rite.”

  A new prickle of foreboding. “What’s a Blood Rite?”

  “A time when a potential queen kills an enemy and wears his blood. A warrior breathes fire into her body. She burns to death and rises from the ashes.”

  Nola didn’t know a whole lot about mythology, only tidbits she’d picked up from sci-fi–obsessed Vale, but Adwaewethians sounded more like phoenix than dragons. Burn to death, rise stronger. “Commit murder...paint myself in blood...let myself be burned to death? That’s what you expect me to do?” He had to be kidding.

  “Yes, yes and yes. You will rise different. Evil. Your humanity, gone.”

  He’d just described her dark side to a T. But she’d meant what she’d said. Mentally and emotionally she was strong. She would prevail against any twisted urges. “Why tell me these things? To scare me into refusing?”

  “I tell you these things so you’ll be prepared. I want you to take part in the Blood Rite. And you’ll want it, too. An increase in power is irresistible.”

  More power would be amazing, yes. Beyond amazing. More power meant better protection for Vale, beating Nola’s addiction and curing her diseases. More power meant...everything.

  “There she is,” he said. Malice dripped from his tone and glittered in his eyes. “The royal who understands that her abilities and dominion are life.”

  How could he read her so easily? “Has a queen ever not risen from the ashes?”

  He gave a clipped nod. “Yes. Many.”

  Great! Wonderful! Understanding of abilities and dominion might be life, but working to gain understanding could spell her death. “What happens if I refuse?”

  He flinched as if she’d punched him. “I’ll find another princess. She’ll seize the crown and take what’s yours.”

  “Give me a moment to deal with my disappointment. An-n-nd done. You can’t miss what you’d never had.” Except—no, no, not another “except.” Too late. Nola’s dark side frothed with fury at the thought of someone—anyone—trying to take what belonged to her.

  The weight of Bane’s mighty gaze nearly drilled her into the dirt. “You’re not the only Adwaewethian hybrid on this planet. The others—the males—play host to a hibernating beast. As soon as you complete the Blood Rite, those beasts will awaken. Though they despise you, they will be bound to your will, will die to protect you. Now, imagine it’s another female who does the waking. Afterward, she and her new army will hunt you down and slaughter you—as well as everyone you’ve ever loved.”

  Scare tactics, or truth? The truly terrifying thought? It was probably both. “Will I gain a beast?”

  “No. Only males are born with a beast, and they are nontransferable. You will have something better. The ability to heal yourself, and your men. The regeneration of my foot was merely a foretaste of your healing potential.”

  For a moment, she felt like dancing and singing Disney princess style. No more withdrawal! No more anguished nights and pain-filled days! No more weaknesses! Oh, the temptation. But there had to be a catch. There was always a catch.

  As Carrie used to say, The devil doesn’t show up with a pitchfork. He shows up with a lie about your fondest dream.

  No matter how desperately Nola wanted to heal, she wouldn’t kill someone to do it, not even an enemy. “I’m confused about your tie to Aveline. She’s your queen, but not your queen, and you both do and do not have to obey her orders?”

  A muscle jumped underneath his eye. He gave a stiff nod. “The situation is...complicated.”

  “Don’t worry, I can catch up and keep up. So, this royal who you both can and cannot disobey, she ordered you to murder all royals, including me?”

  Another stiff nod.

  “Well,” she said, tossing up her arms. “How are you able to betray her and help me?”

  He slanted his head to the side, features alight with surprised intrigue. What, he’d expected her to be dumb as a box of rocks?

  Heck, maybe she was. His scent kept screwing with her concentration. And dang it, she kept getting lost in his amber eyes and the frame of long, black lashes. Her pulse points fluttered, the urge to touch him almost overwhelming.

  Gah! She’d begun to straighten out her legs—her shield—unbidden. Begun to reach out... When she realized what she was doing, she tried to stop herself. Too late. She traced her fingertips along the golden stubble on his jaw. A white-hot bolt of electricity shot through her, pricking her nerve endings. For a moment, the princess and her warrior didn’t move, or even breathe. Then he clasped her wrist in a bruising grip.

  She expected him to push her away, if only to prove his strength. She wished he would push her away.

  Breathing more heavily, he pressed her open palm against his cheek and leaned into her touch. “Anytime a princess lives to adulthood, a warrior’s link to a queen is gradually weakened. The moment I sensed you, Aveline lost her vise-grip on me, allowing me to speak inside your head, and you inside mine. After your Blood Rite, I can bond to you, officially, severing all ties to Aveline.”

  Reeling. “Why would you pick me over her? She harmed your loved one, yes, but you don’t even know me.” I’m not sure I know myself anymore. “There’s a phrase Earthlings—Terrans...whatever!—use. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.”

  “I know you are not a devil. Yet.” He ran his tongue over his straight white teeth and released her hand. “Why did you choose Zion over me?”

  Telling him would only freak him out and prove his theories about her supposed personality change. “I’ll consider telling you, if you answer my question.”

  He bristled, grating, “Aveline can drain others to death with a simple touch. The woman she murdered? Meredith. She was...my wife. Nothing you do or say will ever hurt me worse.”

  Her chest swelled with sympathy. Poor Bane. He’d lost the woman he loved because of another
woman’s selfishness and greed, leaving a hole in his heart. A hole as unfixable as the wound in his shoulder, since Aveline helped fill it with hatred. Now, it festered, leaking poison.

  If only Nola could reach inside his mind and soothe every agonizing memory. On the other hand, he wouldn’t be the same man without them. His experiences had shaped him, and Nola liked the end result.

  Her eyes widened. She did. She liked him. His intensity and his drive. His determination and strength. The man never gave up. When he got knocked down, he fought his way back up.

  “I’m so sorry, Bane,” she said.

  “You didn’t kill Meredith. Aveline did, and with your help, she will pay. My price is blood and pain,” he said, his satisfaction almost tangible. He raised his chin. “In return for your aid, I will win the Terran All War in Aveline’s name, since she’s the one who sent me here, and I’m registered as her representative. But, as soon as we defeat her, you’ll acquire all of her territories. You’ll rule this planet and multiple others.”

  And forever battle other royals? Three cheers and three boos. The real kicker? He’d casually suggested cold-blooded murder again.

  Nola might not be a queen—yet—but he already considered her morally bankrupt. Well, no matter. In time, she would prove her mettle.

  Note to self: get mettle. “To win the All War, you’ll have to kill Vale. I will never endanger my sister.”

  He searched her gaze. “Your loyalty is unexpected and impressive, but misplaced. Vale died the moment she joined the war. No matter the scenario, there’s no way to save her. Best you come to terms with her loss.”

  Though Nola gave a violent shake of her head, he continued, saying, “To win, Vale must kill me. But, without me, you cannot defeat Aveline and her beasts. If another warrior wins the All War, Vale dies. If anyone other than an Adwaewethian wins, Aveline will send beasts to murder you and your loved ones.”

  No. No! “There has to be a way to keep her away from my planet while saving Vale. And you. And Zion. And Knox.” He’d protected Vale at her most vulnerable, so, Nola would protect him, too. “In fact, I order you to win the war, and live, without killing Vale, Zion or Knox.” There! Problem, meet solution.

  He blinked rapidly, as if baffled, then shook his head. “You aren’t formidable enough to enforce such an impossible command.”

  Trembling now, she glided a fingertip around his one remaining gash. “Is that why you didn’t heal completely?”

  “Yes,” he said, his jaw clenched.

  “There’s got to be a way to get everything we both want, and I will find it.”

  Again, he looked surprised. “Aren’t you the one who told me people don’t always get what they want?”

  “I’m not most people.”

  “Are you saying you refuse to fight to liberate our people from Aveline’s oppressive reign?”

  Our people. “I don’t... I can’t...” Gah!

  “You claim you have no desire to kill someone, yet your order to save Vale is a death sentence for me. You realize this, yes? You simply don’t care?”

  Gulp. Bane certainly had manipulation down to a fine art. An impressive and infuriating skill. Needing more time to think, she changed the subject. “Earlier, you asked why I chose Zion over you. I’ll tell you—when I know I can trust you with the information.” That should buy her, oh, an eternity.

  With a growl, he retracted his wings. “Perhaps I can purchase the answer.”

  When the appendages vanished altogether, the arches no longer rising above his shoulders, a cave came into view. A spacious corridor brimming with gold, loose gemstones, jewelry and weapons. He prowled to the other side, watching as she stood.

  His unwavering gaze singed her, teasing all the best places. She ached and trembled as she glided to the different piles of treasure, selecting her favorite trinkets. A diamond bracelet. A ruby choker. Sapphire earrings. An emerald tiara. Oh! There were blocks of gold and slivers of silver. And gauntlets. Oh! A bigger tiara with black diamonds.

  Okay. Maybe it was the jewels. Maybe it was the man. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Whatever the reason, arousal thrummed inside her, cells fizzing.

  “Where did you get these?” she asked, stroking her bounty.

  Bane leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest and observed her with a strange look on his face...and heat crackling in his golden eyes. Those golden eyes put the gems to shame. “I stole them from mortal tyrants before I was frozen, planning to use them to purchase weapons.”

  The huskiness of his voice sent fresh shivers careening down her spine.

  With lazy, sensual movements, he closed the distance once more, as if he couldn’t stay away. He stopped directly in front of her, bringing the scent of exotic spices with him.

  “The jewels suit you.” His gaze held hers as he traced a fingertip over the choker.

  He looked tenser than before, but also more relaxed, the juxtaposition odd and impossible, but so Bane. Her hot and cold warrior. And dang him, the weight of his gaze trapped her in place. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to move. He was close, so close, but she longed to have him closer. Her breasts ached more desperately, and her belly quivered harder.

  “Thank you,” she said, fighting the urge to beg. Kiss me.

  “You need to stop looking at me like that, Nola.” He hissed the words. “You won’t like what happens if I give you what you seem to want.”

  “Or you will like it too much?” she quipped. If he kissed her, would he hate her more? Blame her?

  “If you taste half as good as you smell, I will absolutely like it too much.”

  The raw admission liquefied her bones. “Do Adwaewethians sicken when they are intimate?” she asked, stepping closer to smash her breasts into the rigid strength in his chest. She licked her lips, secretly thrilling when he clocked the action with his gaze. A gaze he flipped up, meeting hers.

  New thrums of intrigue danced over his stunning features. “Do you?” He combed his fingers through her hair before cupping her nape, hard. The gleam in his eyes...a dark ferocity she’d never before encountered. “And don’t tell me I must answer your question or you won’t answer mine. I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Fine. Yes, I sicken anytime I attempt intimacy.”

  He tightened his grip on her. “I was with Aveline before her Blood Rite. We were intimate countless times, and neither of us sickened.”

  “Oh. I see.” The problem came from Nola. Aching, wretched Nola.

  “But,” he said, something hot and dark simmering in his voice...something possessive. “I might know why you alone sicken...”

  Shivers. Heat. “Tell me.”

  “First,” he said, “I must know if you’ll sicken with me.”

  Her pulse jumped. “I suspect I...won’t. I haven’t so far. And I want... I want pleasure.” The words rushed from her. “I’m so hungry for it, even you look good.”

  “Even me?” He sputtered a moment, incredulous, his muscles plumping right before her eyes. “I see I haven’t given you an accurate impression of my skill. Time to change that.”

  Swooping down, he pressed his mouth against hers and kissed the breath from her lungs.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  How to beat those first kiss jitters

  NEVER, IN ALL his days, had Bane been this hard, or ached this intensely. After everything he’d suffered over the centuries, he deserved sexual release with the most beautiful female he’d ever beheld. The woman who maddened him beyond all reason.

  Being so close to Nola...breathing in her honeysuckle and jasmine scent, home...touching the silken softness of her skin...watching her ruby lips part, and the pulse quicken at the base of her neck... He’d raced from reality to fantasy, starved for everything she had to give.

  Now, he drowned in sensation, and she’d become his only source of oxygen.
He kissed her like a man who couldn’t live without his woman. At the moment, he couldn’t.

  In his arms, she was a live wire of passion, her responses unguarded. She trembled, kissing him back with utter abandon, their tongues thrusting together in a wild and carnal dance. Her little gasps pushed him closer to the razor’s edge of sanity. Bane, and the beast.

  The beast loved sex, needed it—finally! please!—but still hated royals with the heat of a thousand suns; he uttered protests and conflicting commands. Translation: Stop. Don’t stop. Stop, damn you. Never stop.

  Amid the chaos, Bane’s desires should have cooled. But the inferno of need blazing through his veins only grew and strengthened, torching his control. As he devoured her mouth, he imagined this beautiful female draped in those jewels and nothing else.

  I will strip her, palm her breasts and tongue her nipples. When I will thrust a finger deep inside her...then another and another...she’ll be wet for me.

  The moment Bane had realized Nola sickened during intimate moments, two equally compelling urges had hit him. To learn if he would be an exception, and to prove Nola was a means to an end to him. Then he would stop softening whenever he looked at her, stop aching whenever she revealed a tidbit about her past, stop craving what he shouldn’t want more than his next breath. But as soon as their lips had met, he’d lost all sense; the reasons for initiating the kiss had ceased to matter.

  The taste of this woman...

  He required more. As necessary as water.

  The kiss never paused as Bane stalked forward, forcing Nola to walk backward. When she bumped into the cave wall, he kicked her feet farther apart, fisted locks of her silken hair to angle her face and took her mouth deeper.

  Need ruled him, and standing still ceased being an option. He ground his throbbing shaft between her legs, the intimate contact startling them both. She moaned, melting against him. His neglected body screamed for more, for everything.