Lyrian’s gaze was tormented before he averted it. “Go to sleep, Echo. Please.”
The door between us was firmly closed, and a shiver ran across my skin because this was the ice Draconi, impervious to emotion. This was the stone man, but it wasn’t my Lyrian. I lay back against the pillows and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see the impassivity on his face. I didn’t want the lies. He said he couldn’t give me what I wanted, but that kiss … that kiss had been want itself.
There was more between us than friendship, so why was he holding back? The answers wouldn’t come easy, but I wasn’t a quitter and puzzles had always been my forte. All I needed to do was get the door between us wide open.
Chapter 7
HUNTER
Echo is safe, she’s alive. She must be because I wouldn’t be here otherwise, but the expending of energy has thrown me into the gray—the place in between reality and oblivion.
Trapped once again.
How long this time? The gray is even lonelier than reality. Everything is muted, and the world rushes by without me. Ignore the fear, this won’t last. Ignore the fact that each time I’m pulled here, I’m held here for longer. Will there come a time when I won’t be able to escape?
Is this my fate?
Pointless questions with no answers, ironic since I have the answers to everything else. To Echo’s questions, to the secret hidden deep in the Hive, to the threat that is rising under our very noses. But the binding—that betrayal, that curse—holds my tongue. That binding which was meant to save them all could now end up killing them.
I drift through the corridors, swimming through the gray, past the shadows that are people and ignoring those that are something else—residues of the past.
It plays out here over and over, screams and death and blood and finally order.
Order that came at a price, and the price is now about to be paid. All this time I’ve waited for her to die, to be free, but now … Now the thought of her death fills me with dread, for without her, what would I be?
Without her, I am nothing.
Chapter 8
I must have fallen asleep because when I next woke it was to Micha and his body wrapped around mine. His heat was under my skin, and his breath was warm on the nape of my neck. I turned in his arms to face him.
“Hey.” He brushed my hair back off my face. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” My gaze slipped over his shoulder to the chair by the bed. “Where’s Lyrian?”
“He’s on patrol.” Micha’s ember gaze was searching. “Echo … what’s going on between you two?”
My stomach sank, and I closed my eyes. “Honestly, I’m so confused. I don’t even know. He’s shut me out.”
Micha’s expression was thoughtful. “Lyrian has always been a loner. He’s one of three, but Bastian and Aidan were always close and Lyrian more of an outsider.” He plucked at a tendril of my hair and began to wind it around his finger. “He may come off as aloof and cool, and those icy eyes of his don’t help people warm to him, but he has a heart of gold.”
I knew this, I’d seen Lyrian with the kids. He’d been warm and caring and relaxed, but around me he was contrary.
“Is that why you attacked him when he bonded with me?”
Micha winced. “That was a purely instinctual reaction. Kindred bonds are intense, and what I feel for you…” He trailed a finger down my shoulder, leaving tingles in his wake. “Is a soul connection. When you’re hurt, I feel it in the pit of my stomach, a sick feeling, and I know there’s something wrong. When Lyrian bonded with you, I felt that sickness but worse. It was a deep, sharp twist in my gut, and I reacted without thinking, but Lyrian is … He’s my big brother. I love him, and if I have to share the beauty of my bond with you with anyone else, then I’m happy to share it with him.”
“And I get all of that, but … I feel like he’s pushing me away even though he doesn’t want to. I don’t understand why? I think … I think there’s more to our bond than friendship.”
Micha went very still and then exhaled slowly. He ran his thumb across my cheekbone. “Go on. Tell me what’s been happening. And when we’re done talking about that, we can talk about Emory and Deacon.”
He knew me, he knew my heart and my mind probably better than I did. Was this the bond we shared?
I licked my lips, and he tracked the movement. “There’s this door between Lyrian and me, in our minds, and I can feel what he feels. I can hear his voice in my head, and it’s … it’s intimate, warm and safe, but lately, there’s confusion and sadness and feelings that don’t equate with a friendship kind of bond. I can’t figure it out because every time I try to understand, he shuts the door between us.” I pressed my palm to Micha’s chest. “I think I want him as more than a friend, but I’m not sure that’s what he wants. One minute, I think he feels the same way, and the next he’s pulled away from me.” That desolate feeling was back, a heavy yet empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. My eyes grew warm. “Why are things so easy with you and so complicated with him?”
“Easy?” His lips curved in a smile. “Is that what you think I am?”
The desolation ebbed a little under his teasing, and a smile tugged at my lips. “No…”
His hand slid down to my hip, the calloused fingers waking up my skin. “Nothing about this will be easy,” Micha said. “But we’ll figure it out. We’ll figure out Lyrian. I’ll speak to him, clear the air brother to brother. We’ll figure out Emory and your complicated emotions toward him, and Deacon and your spikes of attraction for him.”
My cheeks heated, and I ducked my head. “Oh, God. Is there anything you don’t know?”
He chuckled low in his throat, the sound sexy and alluring. “Oh, baby, there is so much more for me to learn about you, but we’re connected, and I pick up on these things. Flashes of your feelings hit me if they’re in excess or sudden.”
“All the time?”
“No, I can block it off if I want, just like you or Lyrian can close the door between you if you want to. But I know there was some heart pounding earlier when I left you with Lyrian, and before that too …” He let the sentence hang, waiting for me to elaborate.
I closed my eyes. “I don’t even know what’s happening. I’m not used to this … This attention and these emotions. I didn’t even think it was possible for me to be attracted to more than one man. To care about, to love more than one guy, and now I have all these feelings.” I filled him in on Deacon and the moment we’d shared at the Keep, then the kiss after I’d crossed paths with Rydian. “And then earlier today it happened again and—"
“He acted as if it didn’t mean anything.” Micha finished my sentence for me.
“Exactly. It’s so … infuriating.”
“Deacon was hit hard by the loss of Marika. It won’t be easy for him to admit he has feelings for someone again. Give him time.”
I propped myself up on my elbow and looked down on him. “You’re really okay with this, aren’t you?”
There was a touch of darkness in his ember eyes, a wistfulness to his smile as he reached up to touch my face. “Your blood tests came back.”
“They did?”
“I bumped into Emory earlier, and he asked me to tell you they came back positive for Draconi and Shedim DNA.”
If it had been anyone else, I’d be annoyed he didn’t think to tell me himself, but I knew Emory, and he was probably distracted by the scuttler project. The information sank in. I wasn’t human. I was a mishmash of species.
“You know,” Micha said. “Draconi females take several mates. They can draw strength from their mates, so the more mates they have, the stronger they are.”
Why was he telling me this?
“You’re part Draconi,” he pointed out. “And having more than one mate is in your nature, and me and Lyrian … we’re not going anywhere.” He cupped my nape and tugged me close. “As much as I’d love to have you all to myself, it was never meant to be that way with you.
I know that now. It’s okay to feel things. You don’t have to shut yourself down. You don’t have to hide. Not with me, not with Lyrian, and anyone who wants to be with you will need to accept that they’ll have to share.”
Our gazes locked, and the realization dawned that this was the first time we’d been alone since before the harvest. The first time we’d been alone since I’d told him I loved him, and he’d confessed he felt the same. So much had happened in between that there’d been no time to enjoy that connection. But now we were truly alone, and every inch of my body was hyperaware of his. My fingers were pale against his crimson flesh, and I pressed my fingertips into his pectorals now, raising my gaze slowly to meet his, trying to communicate what I needed from him.
The humor in his expression melted, and I raised my chin to offer him my mouth. He brushed his thumb over my bottom lip, the fire in his eyes deepening to an orange hue, and then he kissed me, slow and leisurely. Our mouths fit perfectly together like a jigsaw puzzle finally complete, and then our tongues kissed as his mouth slanted over mine. There was suppressed hunger in this kiss, but the pacing was slow and exploratory—my hands on his shoulders, trailing down his back all the way to the waistband of his sleep shorts. His hands cupping my ass through my shorts and holding me against his hot, hard arousal. We were joined at the mouth, tasting, sucking, teasing, licking, all attention focused on our lips while the tension grew and tightened, and my nipples strained against my vest, begging for attention.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he pushed me onto my back. His face was intense as he raked his gaze over my body, over the hard nubs that pushed at the fabric of my vest. The backs of his fingers grazed my stomach as he peeled my vest up before tugging it over my head. I was bared to him, and he feasted on me with his eyes. Fuck, I wanted him to lick me, to suck on my aching nipples, to just fucking touch me already.
Finally, his hand slid up my abdomen and cupped my breast. I held my breath, waiting, begging him with my eyes to claim me. His lips curled in a knowing smile, eyes darkening to cinders, and then he dipped his head and took my nipple into his mouth. Warm and wet, his rough tongue curled around the nub, circling it and driving my breath from my body. I sucked in air, arching beneath him as he licked and lapped and kneaded, driving heat to my core. I needed him to touch me there. I needed him inside me.
“Micha, please.”
He responded to my plea with a kiss that had me squirming and pressing my thighs together to revel in the aching throb that had taken up residence at the apex. And then his hand was slipping down into my shorts. I parted my thighs and lifted my hips, opening for him, crying out into his mouth as his calloused fingers stroked my slick, throbbing clit. He made long strokes, pushing in and out of me, and my body responded by moving against his hand. He was fucking me with his fingers, but I needed more. I needed his cock inside me. I slid my hand into his waistband and gripped his hard, velvet length. He moaned into my mouth, and his chest vibrated in approval, and then we were working each other, gasping and panting in between kisses that escalated into a ferocious dance.
“Fuck! Fuck this,” Micha said against my mouth.
His hands were on my shorts, pulling them off, while I tried to do the same to his. Our foreheads collided, and then we were laughing as we finished getting naked. But the laughter died as our skin kissed, and then he was sliding between my thighs, his length rubbing against my wetness. Oh, shit. Oh, God. He gripped my hips and slid into me slowly, filling me and stretching me until we were rocking together. His eyes burned like coals as they locked onto mine as he picked up the tempo, hitting that elusive spot inside that had me making carnal sounds that made my cheeks hot. I gripped his ass, reveling in the flex of his muscle as he thrust and moved with me harder, faster, spiraling as the pressure inside me built, until my moans and groans painted the room until I was unwinding and shattering into oblivion. He dropped his head into the crook of my shoulder as he came with me, the muscles of his back rippling beneath my fingers, ass flexing as he emptied himself inside me.
My mouth was dry, and the jug of water was empty. I needed a drink, which meant I needed to slip out of the cozy bed without waking Micha and go get myself one. The bedside clock showed it to be almost three a.m. Was Lyrian back yet? The thought of my scalemate sent a flush over my skin that had nothing to do with Micha’s lovemaking and everything to do with my desire for his older brother.
Look at me. I was such a hussy.
Pulling on my shorts and vest, I slipped my feet into my boots. The fuzziness was gone, and it was hard to equate feeling this good with having been stabbed in the neck mere hours ago. The arcana inside me seemed to be getting stronger.
I headed out of the guardian lounge and across the quad to the kitchens. The room was dark, but there was enough light from the faux moonlight streaming in from the windows to light the place. I grabbed a glass of water and downed it, but then my stomach grumbled. Crap. I needed a snack. The pantry door was ajar, and I pulled it open and froze.
Lyrian was standing on a footstool reaching for something on the top shelf. His shirt had ridden up to expose his back, and his yoga pants were riding low enough for me to get a glimpse of the curve of his ass. At the sight of me, he dropped his hand and climbed off the stool, spoiling the view. His eye whites glinted in the light spilling in from the kitchen.
I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing when deep male voices drifted toward us. Lyrian pulled me farther into the pantry and pulled the door too, leaving it open just enough to let in a sliver of light.
“Wha—”
He covered my mouth with his palm and made a silent hush with his mouth. Suddenly, even though we had every right to be here, our presence felt clandestine and wrong.
The voices were muffled but then grew louder. Loud enough to drift in through the slightly open door.
“To do something now,” one voice said.
“There’s no breach. We’ve searched.” This voice was familiar … possibly Councilman Bane?
“People just don’t disappear.”
“No, they don’t.”
“It’s the only explanation, and you know it.”
“Let’s hope there’s a different explanation, because if what we’re thinking is true, then the shit is about to hit the metaphorical fan,” Councilman Bane said.
Lyrian stepped closer to me, pushing me up against the wall, his hand still on my mouth, but his attention was on the door, on the conversation.
“What do we tell Harker?” the first man asked.
“The truth. We may have to instigate a lockdown, a curfew or something until we can secure this facility, but we need to be sure before we cause panic.”
Boot falls retreated, and then there was silence. Lyrian lowered his stunning blue gaze to my face. I looked down at his hand, still covering my mouth, and he slowly lowered it, allowing it to slide down my neck and rest on my collarbones. Shit, he smelled so good. He felt so good.
He stepped back, carefully opened the pantry door and peered out, and then he grabbed my hand and tugged me out of the tiny room, out of the kitchen, and into the quad. He didn’t stop till we were back in the guardian lounge and then he finally let go of me.
“Lyrian, what the heck was that about?”
“I don’t know.” He paced the room in short back-and-forth lines, one hand on the back of his neck. “I’m trying to figure that out.”
“What, look, start from the beginning. What were you doing in the pantry?”
He stared at me blankly for a beat. “What do you think? I was hungry.”
“Oh.” Doh. “And why did we hide from Bane and … whoever that was with him?”
“Gut instinct. Something’s not right, Echo. The patrols are doubled. I heard a couple of Protectorate talking, there are rumors of several humans going missing.”
“What? That’s impossible.”
“Yes. It is, but if it’s not true then why the extra patrols?”
“It mak
es no sense.”
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
“So, what do we do?”
He blew out a breath. “There is nothing we can do. You have a job to do in the sea dwelling. The council is obviously dealing with this.”
“So, why are you so anxious?”
He gave me a flat look which I returned.
“There’s more to all this, isn’t there?” I took a step toward him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He rubbed his temples. “I’m not sure yet. I may be misremembering things. It was a long time ago. An incident where we lost contact with the Hive for over a week. I was younger then, and honestly, I had better things to worry about. I need to speak to my mother. I’ll contact her tomorrow and figure this out.”
Now my stomach was squirming, and I still hadn’t gotten something to eat.
Lyrian reached into his back pocket and pulled out something wrapped in paper. “Hungry?”
“What is it?”
“A flapjack. Want to share?” His grin was coy and disarming, and my heart did a tiny flip.
The truth clicked in my mind. He’d been getting me a snack. He’d known I was hungry even before I’d acknowledged it.
A lump formed in my throat, and before I could check myself, I’d bridged the gap between us, wrapped my arms around his waist, and laid my cheek on his chest.
After a moment, he hugged me back. “Echo.” He sighed into my hair.
“Don’t run away from me again.”
He didn’t reply, he just held me, and that was enough. That and the flapjack, of course.
Chapter 9
“You stay with either Emory or me,” Deacon reiterated for the fourth time. Honestly, he was beginning to sound like a nagging nanny. A super-hot, lithe, aqua-eyed nanny with hair that begged to be touched. “You do not go off alone, and you stick to our assigned section of the dwelling,” he continued.
Dead Sea Page 5