“But…but you two are unmated males,” she objected, her voice trembling. And the way you’re feeling about me makes me think I should stay the hell away from you. But she didn’t say it out loud. The burning lust she felt coming in waves from both brothers was too frightening, too intense.
“We know you,” Lock said in a soothing voice that belied the vortex of need inside him. “And you know us—you know deep down we won’t hurt you. Don’t you, Kat?”
“I…I don’t know,” she faltered. “I know you want me. I can feel it coming off both of you like…like heat.”
“We can’t help what we feel,” Deep said roughly. “How can we help wanting you between us, beautiful little Kat? How can we help wanting to fill you again?”
Somehow Kat knew he wasn’t talking about filling her with his mind this time. No, this time he and Lock wanted more. Much more. And that scared the ever loving crap out of her.
“Just stay the night,” Lock urged quietly when she didn’t speak. “Don’t listen to Deep, we won’t bother you—you can have the bed all to yourself if you like.”
The thought of getting anywhere near their bed, even if she was the only one in it, gave Kat a bad case of the butterflies. “No, you guys take the bed,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll take the door, I’m leaving.”
“No!” Deep moved to block her way again but Lock held him back.
“Go then, my lady,” he said and she could feel his sorrow like an ache in her heart. “We won’t try to stop you. Only please, stay away from the unmated males’ territory.”
“Look, I don’t care where I go right now as long as I can get away from the two of you and…and your feelings!” Kat knew she was being cruel but she couldn’t help herself—she was drowning in emotions that weren’t hers. It felt like a giant hand was gripping her, squeezing her for all it was worth and she couldn’t breathe…couldn’t breathe…
Deep gave her a sharp, predatory grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I think you’d care if you wound up there, little Kat. You’d care a hell of a lot. Because the warriors that live there would listen to what your scent was saying, not the words coming out of your pretty little mouth.”
“Kat—” Lock started, but Kat had heard—and felt—enough to last her a lifetime. Dodging around both large male bodies, she slapped the door switch and squeezed out even before the silver panel had finished opening.
There was a blast of sorrow/anger/pain/need/hunger so intense it nearly knocked her over, and then she was running blindly down the corridor, trying to get away. Trying to get anywhere else but where they were.
Never. The word pounded in her brain as she ran, gasping for air. Never going to go through that again. Never, never, never!
Thirteen
The snuffling stopped and then there was a low growling sound outside the door that made the short hairs at the back of Sophie’s neck stand up. It was answered with a deeper, and even more menacing rumble. After a moment she realized it was coming from Sylvan.
She edged toward the bathroom but she didn’t go in yet. Indeed, she couldn’t go in—she was too transfixed by the sight of Sylvan, who seemed to be changing before her eyes.
She shivered when she looked at his face. His fangs were out again, deadly and sharp and the pupils of his eyes had grown until the iris was only a thin blue ring around a well of black. But not just black, she saw—his pupils were red. Blood red. And the look on his face was one of pure menace. Completely inhuman.
But then he’s not human, she reminded herself. He’s a warrior from another galaxy. But even telling herself that didn’t help—he still looked chillingly animalistic in his anger. She wondered if the urlich could see as well as they could smell. If so and they were looking through the crack in the door, they would have to be crazy to confront such a threat.
For a moment the growling rose to a crescendo that made her want to cover her ears. Then, miraculously, the sounds from outside the door began to die. To Sophie’s vast relief, in a matter of minutes they faded away to nothing, until even the snuffling was gone. Still, she waited anxiously, watching Sylvan who was still on high alert.
He turned to her at last. “They’re gone.” His voice was a snarl and he still looked more animal than man.
“Okay.” Sophie shrank away from him when he came toward her. God, he looked scary with those blood red eyes and was it her imagination or had his fangs gotten even longer? “So…” She cleared her throat. “So we can relax?”
“No.” He was still glaring at her, his face filled with some emotion she couldn’t read. Maybe raw aggression? “There were only one or two out there,” he continued, still advancing on her. “They weren’t sure of the scent so they went to gather the rest of the pack to reach a consensus. If they decide that the scent they’re looking for is here, we’re done for.”
“Oh.” Sophie put a hand to her throat. “What…how long do we have? What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to mark you. Right now.” Reaching out, he gripped her upper arm before she could dodge away. “On the bed. I need you out of your clothes—all of them.”
Sophie’s mouth was so dry she couldn’t even scream—not that it would do her any good even if she could’ve. “Sylvan…Sylvan, please,” she whispered.
“I said now.” His voice was a muted roar and his face was still the mask of a beast. Gone was the kind, patient male who had carried her for miles, gone was the gentle soul who had healed her wounds so tenderly. In his place was a monster—at least that was how he looked to Sophie.
“I d-don’t understand,” she stammered, unbuttoning the blue uniform shirt reluctantly. “Why…why do I have to be naked?”
His eyes blazed. “You told me you knew about scent marking.”
“I thought I did,” she protested. “But—” The rest of her words were lost as he stripped the loose shirt from her shoulders and led her forcefully to the bed.
“Lay down.” It was a command, not a request.
Sophie was too frightened to disobey but inside the panic was taking hold. What is he going to do to me? This is like a nightmare. A horror story. I can’t get away, there’s no place to run. What am I going to do?
She climbed on the bed and lay there, shivering, with her arms crossed over her breasts. Wondering what he was going to do next.
She didn’t have long to wonder.
With quick, efficient movements, Sylvan stripped off his tight black uniform pants and tall black boots, baring himself with no shame. Clearly he was completely intent on the task at hand—whatever that was. His mating scent was still strong in the air and Sophie could feel her body responding to it—her nipples were hard and her pussy was wet—but her mind was a seething mass of fear and dismay as she watched him strip.
But as frightening as he was, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
Sylvan naked was even more imposing than Sylvan clothed. His broad shoulders and chest led down to a set of six pack abs and trim hips that put any other man she’d ever seen to shame. But it was his muscular thighs that held Sophie’s attention—or rather what was between them.
Sophie remembered that Kat had once joked that all Kindred were hung like Clydesdales. And to her dawning horror, it was obvious that Sylvan was no exception. Long and hard and fully erect, the club of his sex looked as thick as her wrist and its broad, mushroom shaped head rose to the level of his navel. Sophie hadn’t seen much male equipment but to her it looked angry and red—a battering ram ready to breach her defenses whether she wanted it to or not.
He’s so big. How is he ever going to fit that thing inside me? Because by now she was sure that was exactly what he planned to do. He was going to take her right here and now and there was nothing she could do to stop him—no way to get away. Outside the urlich were hunting her and inside her worst nightmare was about to happen. The cabin, which had been a welcome refuge, was now her cage.
She was trapped.
Her mind ran in circles. No
t again. Please, God, I can’t stand it again. Oh please…
“Take the panties off too.” His voice was rough.
“But…” Sophie covered herself protectively. “But Sylvan…”
“I need to completely eradicate your scent—can’t do that with a barrier between us.” He nodded at her lace panties again. “Take them off.”
“I…all right,” she whispered. She’d been in this situation before and she knew from bitter experience that fighting would do her no good. I can’t stop him. All I can do is try to survive it. Sophie sat up, trying to cover her breasts with one arm. Feeling horribly naked and vulnerable she pushed the panties down her hips with one hand. When she had them down to her ankles, Sylvan pulled them off and tossed them carelessly in the corner.
Then he climbed on the bed with her.
“Open yourself,” he ordered in a low growl. “I can’t mark you unless you’re completely open to me.”
Her chest felt unbearably tight, her entire body shaking with fear, but there was nothing else she could do. Maybe it will be over with quickly. Maybe it won’t hurt that much. Maybe if I just try not to think about it… But she could think of nothing else.
In a last gesture of despair, Sophie lay back and parted her legs for him, spreading her thighs as he had commanded. The past and the present were blending together now. Her mind was filling with the memory she’d worked so hard to suppress. The dark room. His hand on my mouth. His body so heavy on mine. The pain between my legs—so sharp it makes me scream. But no one can hear me. No one cares. There’s no way out, nothing I can do to stop it from happening. I’m trapped…trapped…
The big warrior was about to reenact her worst nightmare and she couldn’t stand to watch. Throwing an arm over her eyes, she turned her head to one side. And as Sylvan lowered himself on top of her, she let out a low, hitching sob.
The soft sound of distress broke through the red haze of anger, aggression, and the territorial need to mark and claim that had taken over Sylvan’s brain. It was the rage—the rage came over me! He could scarcely believe it but it must be true. All his life he’d heard other Kindred talk about the all-enveloping protective anger that filled and overpowered them when a bride was threatened but he’d never expected to experience it himself. He was cold, logical, above such things.
Well, apparently not where Sophia is concerned.
From the minute he’d heard the urlich at the door all he’d been able to think about was keeping her safe in any way necessary. And since it was her scent they were following, he had to eliminate it—to change it completely by masking it with his own. Instinctively he knew that when faced with the odor of his unleashed aggression, no sniffer would dare to come within a hundred yards of the small cabin they were staying in.
Unfortunately, he’d been so set on his purpose that he’d completely forgotten to consider the human girl he was protecting. Looking down at her now with clear eyes, he suddenly saw how she trembled under him. She had opened herself as he ordered, true, but her entire body spoke of reluctance and fear and her scent was muted with despair.
Look at her. Her shoulders are tense, she’s covering her breasts with one arm and her other arm is over her eyes, as though she can’t bear to look at me. To see what I’m doing.
“Sophia?” he whispered roughly, rolling to one side. “Sophia, are you all right?”
“Don’t…” Her voice was a broken whisper. “Please don’t. Don’t do it to me again. I can’t stand it again.”
“Do what to you?” He tried to make his voice soft and non-threatening. “Sophia please…” Gently he pried her arm from her face to find her beautiful green eyes were filled with tears. She looked up at him and Sylvan knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the horror and fear in her face was all due to him. Goddess, Mother of All Life, what have I done? He tried to cup her cheek but she shied away from his touch.
“Please…” She shook her head. “If you’re going to do it, can’t you just…just get it over with?”
“I was only going to mark you. To use my scent glands to cover your scent with my own,” he protested, but it was clear that Sophia was beyond reason. She just kept trembling and crying, the tears running down her flushed cheeks and her shoulders shaking with barely suppressed sobs.
Sylvan felt like his heart was breaking. No, not just breaking—it felt like someone had ripped the beating muscle from his chest and thrust it into a fiery forge. This female—the female he would rather die than hurt—was shaking herself apart and he was the cause of her distress. She thought I was going to hurt her—to take her by force. Goddess, no wonder she’s so upset.
“Sophia,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. So damned sorry.” Wanting to remove the threat, he got off the bed and put his pants and boots back on. But when he sat back down beside her and put a hand on her arm, she flinched away from him again, her face drawn with fear.
Again Sylvan felt his heart twist in the flames. It was agony—burning in the seven hells couldn’t be worse than this—than seeing that look on her face and knowing he had put it there. “Look,” he whispered brokenly, taking his uniform shirt and draping it over her to cover her nakedness. “I…I’m dressed. I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t even mark you if you don’t want me to. I swear it.”
At last his words seemed to get through to her and she looked up, her eyes red from crying. “B-but I th-thought…you said if they smelled me they’d attack.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“But…” She blinked up at him. “You’ll be killed.”
“I don’t care.” Sylvan held her eyes with his. “I’d rather die than cause you such pain.”
“I’m sorry…” She wiped at her tears and sat up, clutching the shirt to her. “I just thought…”
“I know what you thought. But I would never take you by force. Never.” He let the vehemence he felt creep into his voice and at last she seemed to be convinced.
“Thank you,” she whispered, wiping her eyes again. “You just looked so scary. It was just like when Burke—”
“Who?”
She shook her head and turned her attention to getting the shirt back on without exposing herself. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
It appeared to matter a great deal to Sylvan but now wasn’t the time to address it. “Come here,” he said, holding out his arms to her. “Please?”
Sophia looked at him doubtfully. “Why?”
“I was about to heal you before the urlich showed up,” he said quietly, trying to gage the effect his words had on her. “Would you let me take up where we left off?”
Sophia still didn’t look completely willing but at least she was no longer afraid to come to him. When she got close enough, Sylvan gathered her into his arms and held her in his lap. She stiffened against him at first but then, when he didn’t do anything but hold her, she began to relax.
Sylvan held her as tightly as he dared, breathing in her scent and feeling his heart burn. Goddess, how he wanted her! He’d never felt this way for any female before. The urgent need to protect, to shelter, to comfort and love and care for her swelled inside him until he could barely breathe. But he didn’t want to scare her again, not even if all the urlich in the Scourge Fathership were after them.
At last, after a long silence, she spoke. “I…I thought you were going to heal my lip.”
Sylvan stroked her hair which had come loose from the knot at the back of her neck and now cascaded down her shoulders in soft chestnut waves. “I thought your heart needed healing first.”
She shifted against him, getting more comfortable. “This is nice,” she admitted softly. “I…I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”
“The fault is entirely mine,” Sylvan murmured. “The urlich aroused my protective rage. And then I got so completely focused on marking you I forgot to consider your feelings. Can you forgive me?”
“I…I think so.” She looked up at him. “I guess you can’t help the way you get when there’s an
enemy around. But please just…don’t come at me that way again.”
“I won’t. I swear it.” He meant it from the bottom of his heart and Sophia seemed to sense his sincerity.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze still locked with his. “I…I appreciate that.”
“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sylvan heard the break in his own voice but he couldn’t help it. “I would die to protect you, Sophia. To think you would believe I could hurt you in any way—especially that way…” But he couldn’t go on.
“Sylvan…” She was looking at him with something like wonder on her face. “You…you’re crying,” she whispered. She sounded like she could hardly believe it.
Sylvan didn’t believe it himself. “No, I’m not.” He had never given in to such emotion, never allowed himself such weakness before. Even after his father’s passing and Feenah’s betrayal, not so much as a single tear had come to his eyes.
But Sophia was nodding. “Yes, you are. Or at least, you’re sort of leaking a little.” Reaching up, she brushed lightly at his cheek. “See?” She held out her hand. To his surprise her fingertips were wet.
“I’m sorry,” he said stiffly.
“Why?” Sophia sounded genuinely curious.
He shook his head. “To show such weakness before one I am supposed to protect…it is unacceptable. Unforgivable.”
“No, it’s not.” Suddenly she put her arms around his neck and hugged him. “It’s not, Sylvan,” she whispered in his ear, pressing her soft cheek against his. “Not at all, I promise you.”
His heart swelled until he thought it might burst and he hugged her back carefully. He no longer cared if the urlich and the AllFather with all his hellish legions came upon him and killed him. At that moment, with Sophia willingly in his arms and her sweet feminine fragrance invading his senses, he knew he could die a happy and contented male. But she’ll die too. Or be captured without you to protect her.
Sophia must have had the same thought because after a long moment she pulled back and looked at him seriously.
Brides of the Kindred Volume One: Books 1-4 Page 52