by Aliyah Burke
The tears welled up, and her answer was to step into him. Another sob escaped when his strong arms closed around her. Within seconds, Cleo cried like she hadn’t done in a long time. Not even when she’d found out David was cheating on her did her tears fall this fast or furious. Nik murmured softly and held her close. Cleo took deep, shuddering breaths and tried to step back. He increased his hold.
“No more distance, Cleo.”
Closing her eyes, Cleo pressed tight against his granite-like chest. He was dry and warm. “I think you need to tell me what the hell is going on.”
His strong hand stroked down her wet hair. “Yes.”
She let him guide her back to the fire, but Cleo’s eyes widened when he dropped to the ground before her and removed her boots, socks, and undid the buttons on her jeans.
“What—”
“Hush, Cleo.” Nik tugged the wet denim down her legs, and she obediently lifted each leg.
She watched in her bra, panties, and necklace as he spread out the rest of her clothes to dry. Her insides contracted when he raked his gaze over her near nakedness. Cleo lusted after his muscled physique as he went to a saddlebag and pulled something out.
“Here,” he said in a gruff voice.
Cleo took what he offered and found it to be a large shirt and a small towel. “Thank you.” She slid the shirt on, the coarseness of the material affecting her less than Nik’s scent, which sat embedded in the threads. “What about you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are,” she uttered. Not low enough, for his eyes slashed up to her face, their heat burning her. He took a purposeful step toward her, and she gulped hard. “You were about to explain this to me.”
“Yes, sit down.” Nik grabbed his sword, and sat at the end of the pallet, resting the weapon within easy reaching distance. “Come sit, Cleo.”
Her gaze fixated on the blade. It was one thing to see swords on display in a museum and an entirely different one to have witnessed the weapon take the lives of men. Cleo sat down and drew her knees up to her chin, grateful his shirt covered so much.
Swallowing hard, to find her courage, she said, “Tell me how it’s possible for you to be the Lion of Midnight.”
Chapter Seventeen
Nik observed at the woman huddled on the bed. Her long, thick black hair a bit drier since she’d toweled it off. Her expression showed her fear and how lost she truly felt.
Damn you, Loki! He’d woken up back in this time with Loki telling him Cleo was about to be found by a group of thieves. Then, he’d vanished. Freya had appeared and had gifted him with a horse and his sword. Her blue eyes filled with unusual concern as she’d advised him not to tarry.
“Have care, mortal. He plans on making you suffer.”
Although Nik longed to know why Loki had it out for him, his need to protect Cleo outweighed everything else.
“Where?” he asked swinging up on the gray.
Freya pointed, and he was riding hard before she vanished. As he’d rode the mask settled over him, everything in him focused on reaching his woman. His eyes made sense of the battle even before he slid off his mount. There were no more women or children. A few men fought against the swarm of invaders. There were also eight others who battled against the marauders, and when he’d released his battle cry, they’d responded. They were knights of the baron for these lands. Nik had fought for that man before.
As he fought, he sought Cleo. Each passing second harder than the last. It was her scream. Shrill and utterly drenched in fear. He spotted her on the ground, trying to scramble away from the man over her. A roar erupted from his chest, and he’d run toward her, barreling through everything, praying he’d make it in time.
He had, and now, here they sat in a small home, a torrential downpour outside and an uncertainty of what was yet to come.
“Well.” Cleo’s voice lacked the warmth he was accustomed to hearing.
He blinked again and raked a hand through his own mostly dry hair. Cleo’s dark sepia eyes watched him, waiting for his explanation.
“I am the Lion of Midnight.” Her sharp breath caused him to stop.
“So, what, you’re immortal, like…like a vampire?”
“I don’t know about that.” Nik ran his tongue over his teeth. “You know Russian history, and I know you and Kenya met in a mythology class. All mythology or just Greek?”
“All,” she said.
“So, you know of Freya and Loki.”
“Of course. Although not as widely worshipped as the Greek and Roman gods, the Norse gods had a large following.” She crossed her legs, and he bit back the groan her exposed limbs caused. “What do they have to do with anything?”
“They have everything to do with it. Freya gave me the gift of living untouched by age until I found a love like Kit and Marcus share.” I should tell her she’s the love.
No! You can’t say that, mortal. Freya’s voice flashed through his mind.
“Okay, so they weren’t lying,” she said, tone laden with stress.
“Who are they?” Nik asked.
“Before I saw the eyes, I had been going to the kitchen and overheard Kit and Marcus arguing. I assumed I was hearing things.” A humorless chuckle escaped. “Apparently, I was wrong.” Cleo squared her shoulders. “Although, if they made it back home, we should be able to.”
Her false hope nearly broke his heart. “I don’t know how Marcus left.”
She rubbed her temples. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this. Can’t Freya blink us back?” He remained silent, and tears pooled in the depths of her eyes. “She’s not the one who sent me here, is she?” Her whisper was tortured.
Nik shook his head. Her chin wobbled, and Cleo whimpered. Moving to her, he felt a knife penetrate his heart when she flinched back. That knife twisted when Cleo slipped under the top fur and faced the wall, her back to him. Her lithe body lay there, racked with shudders.
Clenching his jaw, Nik placed his sword within easy reach and added a bit more wood on the fire. Then, he sat on the hard floor between the door and the pallet, not holding the woman he loved. He longed to hold her, bury his nose in her thick, silken locks, but he would let her have some privacy.
“Rest, snežinka. I’ll stand watch.”
By morning, the rain had stopped. Nik stood by the door, tugging on his arm guards when a sound from behind him brought all attention to the woman waking on the bed of fur. The V of the shirt allowed him to see her breasts from where they sat cupped in her lacy blue bra.
“Morning, snežinka,” he said.
Her head snapped over to look at him. Her eyes were still haunted, but that didn’t stop the flare of desire, which flashed before she masked it.
“I want to go home.”
“I’m working on it, Cleo.”
She got up and quickly dressed in her clothes. He couldn’t help but notice when she hid the pendant under the shirt. Cleo folded his shirt and looked at him. “Where do you want this?”
“Right there is fine.” Nik walked toward her, the early morning light caressing her skin. The closer he got, Cleo wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Look at me,” he ordered. She did. Reluctantly, but she did. “No more distance, Cleo. I told you that last night.”
“I’m not exactly feeling warm and cuddly here, Nik,” she bit off. “First, you get all caveman like and threatening to kill anyone who touches me, including your own brother.”
“No,” he interrupted. “I didn’t say anyone. I said any man.”
She glared. “Stuff it. Then, somehow, I get dragged into some freaky thing that, by all accounts, should put my ass in a psych ward. I’m not cut out for this, so fix it and get me the hell outta here!”
I don’t know how. “I will.”
The urge to kiss her and lower her back to the furs nearly took him to his knees. With one hand, he reached out and grabbed the back of her head. She stiffened and tried to move back. Nik refused, instead pulling her close and covering her mouth with
his. Cleo resisted for a moment before her groan slid up from deep in her throat. Placing his other hand at the small of her back, he bore them tighter together.
He slipped his tongue between her lips and explored all he could reach. Her taste inflamed his blood. His cock throbbed and pressed against his pants. Cleo’s hands gripped his biceps, and she nipped at his invading tongue. He growled low and sank his fingers into the flesh of her ass, thrusting his hips forward. Without breaking the kiss, Nik began moving toward the pallet still covered by the furs.
Her breaths were fast and shallow. Sexy mewls poured from her throat as the kiss intensified. Nik lowered her down, grunting his approval when she wrapped her runner’s legs around his waist, allowing their cores to meet.
“Cleo,” he rasped, bucking against her.
Her gaze was heavy, lips swollen from his kisses and oh so moist. “Nik.”
He reached between them to the buttons on her jeans. One. Two. Three undone. His heart pounded, every nerve wanting to be buried completely within her velvet heat. He placed his hand upon her belly and moved it down. Her muscles tensed beneath his touch, and he nibbled along her lower lip while his fingers dipped under the elastic band of her panties.
She dug her fingers into his hair and pressed their mouths together fiercely. He rumbled in return, loving her aggressiveness. Slanting his mouth more, Nik dominated the kiss, insisting on her surrender. When she gave into his demand, he drove two fingers deep into her silken, wet channel.
“Ahhh!” she screamed into his mouth, her body exploding around his thrusting digits. “Please…I…you…Nik!” Cleo wailed, her hands gripping his arms as she rode out her intense orgasm.
Closing his eyes, he gentled the kiss, and she slowed beneath him. Withdrawing his fingers, Nik kissed her, again. “We have to get going, snežinka.”
Her eyes were slightly unfocused when they opened. “What about you?” She let go of his arm and cupped him through his pants, fingers stroking lightly.
Shit! “Snežinka, I want nothing more than to bury my cock in your tight pussy. But there are riders coming. I have to protect you, first and foremost.”
Cleo released him and touched his face. “You will, won’t you?”
Turning to kiss her palm, Nik nodded then met her gaze. “Until there’s not a breath left in my body. I can do no less.” You are my salvation.
Her lips brushed his before she slipped out from under him, got to her feet, and began rebuttoning her pants. Their eyes met, and Cleo’s dropped to his crotch and back up.
“You look mighty good in black leather pants.”
He grinned until his horse whickered. Within seconds, Nik held his sword and was going for the door. “Stay here,” he commanded and left without considering she may not listen.
Three horses carrying men came into view. A dangerous rumble grew in his chest. I want no man near her. Nik drew his sword and waited. He was more edgy than usual, and he knew it was because of the woman in the hut behind him. The riders stopped and looked at him. They weren’t clean, and his blood boiled at the thought of them touching Cleo.
“We seek the Lion of Midnight,” the one on the right said.
“Why?”
“We seek his sword.”
Nik frowned and readjusted his grip on the hilt. “Explain.”
“Our village needs help. We don’t have much, but what we have, we’d like to keep from the raiders.”
Perhaps Cleo and I would be safe there while I try to figure out how to get her home. “How far?”
“Two day’s ride.” The man shifted. “We ran into some men who said they’d fought at your side.”
“Very well. I’ll help, but I require my own hut.”
“Of course.”
Nik stepped back into the building and found Cleo sitting on the pallet, eyes closed, holding the pendant. “Cleo,” he said in English. “There’s a village ahead that we’ll be safe at until I can find a way out of here.”
“Not comforting words, Nik.”
He frowned. “Let’s go.” Nik kept himself between the other three and Cleo as he readied his horse, Tyr. He could see the curious looks on their faces, but after he glared at them and growled, “Mine,” they averted their gazes.
Before long, they were riding away from the shack, and Cleo sat in front of him.
“They keep staring at me,” she uttered.
He could pick out the fear in her tone. Tugging her closer to his chest, he whispered, “I’m right here.”
“I know, but I still want to go home.”
Nik knew that was the only thing keeping her relatively calm. Believing she’d be home soon.
When they stopped to rest the horses, Nik crouched by Cleo. “Are you hungry?”
“I’ll eat when I get home.”
He scowled at her. “You need to eat. It’s a two-day ride to this village.”
Her eyes grew wide before she shrugged. “Fasting is good to do.”
Nik bit back his retort. “Let’s go, then.” Soon, they were riding, again. Cleo continued to shift against him. “What’s wrong, Cleo?” he asked.
She turned her head away from the others and whispered. “I feel uneasy. Scared.”
Nik glowered, reaching for the hilt of his sword. “From where?”
“The small one in the middle. I feel what I did when I saw that man outside the window.”
Anger rushed up. Simultaneously, he reined his horse to a halt and removed his sword from its scabbard. “Loki!” he thundered, sliding off his mount. “Stay on the horse, Cleo.” The men looked back at him. Nik spat on the ground. “Show yourself, Trickster.”
As one, the three on horses turned. The skinny one in the middle grinned and nudged his mount forward. As Nik watched, the dirty scruffy person was gone, and in his place sat a man, one who was becoming unfortunately familiar. Loki. Staring at him with those damn eyes.
Cleo’s gasp propelled him forward another step. “Send her home, Trickster.”
With a smooth action, Loki stood before him. His gaze moved past Nik to land on Cleo. “Did you tell her you’re the reason she’s here?”
“What?!” Cleo shouted.
“Send her home,” Nik demanded, not taking his eyes off the god before him.
Loki shrugged. “I don’t understand why you wanted her here. She doesn’t seem to be having any fun.”
He stepped forward, and Nik responded by raising his sword. It rested at Loki’s throat. The god tsked.
“You kill me…she’ll never get home. Think about that. How happy would she be stuck here in the twelfth century until she died?” Loki shrugged, unrepentant. “Besides, you can’t kill me.”
“Send her home.”
Loki chuckled. “That’s why I’m here. I felt bad with you demanding she come here.” A mocking twist of his lips caught Nik’s attention. “I came here to escort her back to her time.” He held out one pale hand toward Cleo. “Take my hand, Cleo Laurens. I’ll get you home.
Nik moved swiftly to keep himself between Cleo and Loki.
“Can you really get me home?” Cleo asked as she stepped beside Nik.
He wanted to growl low. I told her to stay on the horse.
“Of course,” Loki said with a smile. “I’ll put you right in your own apartment in Tennessee.” He beckoned with one hand. “Just give your hand to me.”
“Cleo, don’t trust him.”
“You hush, mortal. You’re the reason she’s here. I’ve come to take her home, something you don’t seem too inclined to do.” Loki glared at him.
“What about Nik?” Cleo asked.
“What about him?”
Nik gripped her wrist, keeping her beside him when she moved to walk past. “I mean, will he come back with me?” She didn’t pull away.
“Why would you want him back there? He belongs in this time. A Neanderthal.”
Nik watched Cleo shrug. “He’s made a life for himself there.” Cleo’s hand shook, and Nik dropped his from her wrist
and squeezed it.
“No. He stays. My offer is only for you.”
Nik’s jaw almost hit the ground when Cleo sighed, turned back to him, and said, “Guess we keep looking for the place where we both can go back. He’s not powerful enough. Now, help me back on the horse.”
Nik longed to kiss her. She looked at him and winked, making him realize all over again how much he loved her. She could manipulate with the best of them, and he was proud of her. Even so, he was scared shitless for her.
“Not powerful enough?!” Loki roared.
“Deaf, too, I wager. I thought the gods were supposed to be ‘all-powerful’. Guess not.”
Nik shot her a look. Cleo be quiet.
Feminine laughter filled his head. I like her, mortal.
“Listen to me, mortal,” Loki thundered, the ground shaking around them. “Look at me!”
Cleo turned with a yawn. “What? We’re busy here, so…go pretend to be powerful elsewhere.” Her patronizing tone flowed cuttingly from her tongue as she flicked her fingers in his direction.
Loki’s eyes turned completely red. Nik lifted his sword, pushing Cleo behind him. There was a flash of light, and Cleo’s scream filled the air.
“Cleo!” he shouted. No answer.
When the light faded, Nik heard a moan, and he saw Cleo face down in the snow. Snow? He hurried through it to her side. She didn’t wake, just lay there. Off in the distance, he could see his house. We’re home. We’re in Russia. Scooping her up, he headed for the warmth of his home.
“Vassi! Vassi!” he yelled as he charged up the steps.
The door opened, and Vassi took one look, reached out and took the sword from him. Nik carried her upstairs to her bed.
Rubbing her skin, he murmured, “Come on, snežinka.”
Cleo groaned and opened her eyes. A big sigh left her. “Did it work?”
“You crazy woman. Don’t ever do that, again. He could have…” Nik trailed off. He closed his eyes briefly, grateful she was okay. Not even wanting to imagine what could have been done to her.
She yawned and looked around. “We’re back in Russia.”
“Yes. My home.” Our home.
“Good. Civilization. I want a shower and food.”