Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Nadia Scrieva

  “…many wealthy citizens are offering limited spaces in their private shelters to members of the community, as long as you bring your own bottled water and canned goods…”

  “…the local stadium will be open to last-minute stragglers, and the police force is out in full-swing to maintain order and assure your safety…”

  “…a heroic volunteer who is giving rides to all of his neighbors, creating a ‘comet carpool’ and playing uplifting music along the ride to the shelter…”

  Pax could not help but smile at all of these hopeful endeavors in the middle of such a dismal event. People seemed to really be coming together and helping each other—now that there were only a few hours left on the clock, there was nothing else left to do. It was heartening.

  The basement door burst open, startling Pax as Amara began clomping down the stairs. For a delicate little blonde girl, her friend sure could stomp the hell out of a staircase. She held up her phone, displaying the message she had received in synchronization with Pax.

  “Do you want to do this?” Amara asked.

  “I couldn’t ask that of you,” Pax answered, staring at the phone, “but yes, I do.”

  “Then let’s do it,” Amara said with a frown. “Remember—we might be playing games and lying about everything, but this actually is the end of the planet as we know it. Big changes are about to happen, and nothing is certain. We should act like it.”

  “Don’t you want to be with Ash?” Pax asked.

  “He doesn’t want to be with me, or he would be,” Amara said with a frown. “So I’m in your corner tonight. Wanna enter the ring and knock ’em dead?”

  Pax nodded, giving her friend a grateful smile.

  “Hand me that hourglass,” Amara said, holding out her hand. “I’ll put it upstairs to decorate more—so that it looks like someone actually lives here.”

  * * *

  3:57 AM

  Thornton knocked on Para’s door.

  A few moments passed, and finally the door slid open to reveal a very sleepy looking woman. Para moved a hand to her forehead to brush her indigo bangs aside from her eyes and she gave him the smallest of smiles.

  “Hi, boyfriend,” she said quietly.

  “I would have gotten you flowers or something,” he said gloomily, moving forward to kiss her cheek, “but all the flower shops were closed on account of the apocalypse. Why aren’t you in a bomb shelter? Didn’t you get my message inviting you to my sister’s bunker?”

  “Enjoying these final hours above ground,” she answered. “Oh my goodness, Thorn! You’re soaking wet! Didn’t you have an umbrella? Please come inside and get warm.”

  She knew that he could use his prana to instantly dry out his skin, but she needed to feign innocence. When Thornton had arrived at Para’s house, Pax and Amara had not yet been joined. They waited in the basement for the sound of the doorbell before joining bodies; it was the only way they could guarantee they would have all of the available time. Every second of every one of those precious thirty minutes.

  They had also injected copious amounts of etorphine before and after joining. It was a fast acting drug, so Para had stumbled up the stairs of the basement in a weakened, dizzy haze before shaking her head clear and answering the door. She decided to act as though she had only just woken up. The fresh dose of tranquilizer had been nearly enough to knock her unconscious, so it wasn’t a hard role to play. She had almost been too drowsy to notice that Thornton was soaked to the bone from the rain, but when she noticed she quickly ushered him inside.

  “Let me put your clothes in the laundry,” she said. “You can take a warm shower in the meantime.”

  “No, no. It’s fine,” he said, knowing that he could dry off his clothing with his body heat. But then how would he explain that to her? It might be better to let her help.

  “I insist. Please come upstairs,” she offered again, leading the way.

  “Sure, Medea,” he said, following her obediently and absent-mindedly.

  “I don’t have any men’s clothing but I should have a robe or something you can wear until your clothes dry out.” She guided him to the master bath and held out her hand, indicating that he should deposit his clothing into it. He tugged off his expensive-looking wet shirt and gave it to her, and she made a motion with her other hand to indicate she wanted his pants as well.

  She then moved to the laundry room (in which she had never done laundry) and looked at the machines. She saw that the dryer was an older model that would take an hour for the clothes to finish drying. She frowned and quickly glanced behind her to ensure her privacy before pulling the clothes tightly against her body and releasing a miniscule amount of hot prana to dry them out before tossing them into the dryer.

  Quickly, she headed back to her room to find clothes for him. After sifting through a few drawers, all that she could find was a satin robe. She laid the robe out for him in the bathroom (with a quick glance at his form through the foggy shower door) and headed into her bedroom.

  She hesitated for a moment before going to the bedside table where her purse lay and digging into it. She pulled out the simulator and turned it on. The arousal-intensifying waves had never been used on Thornton. Para had never really gotten extremely intimate or sexual with him. What would their dynamic be like? As intense as it was with Asher? She could be patient and allow things to progress in the natural way... or she could cheat nature and speed things up with a little science.

  It was in her nature to cheat nature with science.

  In the meanwhile, Thornton was toweling himself off with a towel that had never been used. He saw that she had lain out a robe for him. He was extremely surprised to observe that the robe was pink. He weighed his options for a few seconds before donning the garment.

  Exiting the bathroom, he fingered the pink lace at the cuffs of the robe hesitantly. “How do I look?” he asked with a sheepish look.

  “The color really brings out your… masculinity,” Para said with a sly smile.

  “I see that you have taken this opportunity to torture and mock me,” he said, gesturing down at himself.

  She laughed lightly. “I’m sorry, Thorn. I couldn’t find anything else that might fit you. Let me look again.” She moved across the room, going to a dresser. She pulled out drawers (which Amara had filled with random articles) and she searched for something else. She couldn’t really think of anything that might fit her brother—Amara liked her clothing skin-tight.

  Thornton gazed at Para’s long, slender legs as she bent over, rummaging in the drawer. He watched as her dress rode up to reveal the little curve at the top of her thighs where her legs met her buttocks. He stared at her shape for a moment, somewhat surprised to feel how strongly his own body was responding at the sight of her.

  I can do this, he thought to himself. I want to do this. It’s a surefire way to make Pax boil with jealousy. Wherever she is, she may be concealing her prana... but I’m positive that she can still feel mine.

  Para paused in her digging through the drawers, as she heard Thornton’s train of thought. That simulator sure does work quickly, she thought with mild surprise and substantial pride in her invention. She straightened her posture and moved her fingers to the hemline of her dress. She gently grasped the edge of the fabric, intending to pull her dress down modestly, but Thornton crossed the room and seized her fingers, crushing them in his grasp. He spun her around instantly, staring down at her in a no-nonsense way.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she beheld the typhoon of lust and wrath burning in his eyes.

  “Thorn,” she said softly, feeling suddenly afraid. She was Para—she never felt fear, but there was an unusual and unmistakable sense of danger provoked by his proximity. There were very few men who could be intimidating in pink, but Thornton was one of them. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck lift as the heat of his prana intensified, prickling and electrifying her skin. Her anxiety made her heartbeat accelerate as every muscle in her body began t
o contract and beg for oxygen. His heat surrounded and pervaded her until her own arousal began to stir within her womb. She remembered exactly who he was, and just what he could do to her.

  The ferocity of the emotions and the hormones released into her bloodstream burned away some of the effect of the tranquilizer, and she felt her subtle drowsiness dissipate and her own prana rising slightly. Her body yearned to let go and match his passion and power, but she fought desperately to contain herself and hold onto her sedated state.

  It was impossible. It was impossible to look into the oceanic intensity of the eyes belonging to the man she loved without feeling a typhoon of her own lust and rage consuming her. She fought against the onslaught of anxiety as his hands forced her hands behind her back. His chest and forehead grazed hers.

  “This is not the kind of night,” he said in a low voice, “on which one should be concerned about clothing.” He discarded the pink robe and tossed it onto her dresser with a flick of his wrist. He flexed his shoulders back as he stood in his godly naked glory, his skin still warm and moist from the shower.

  Para examined the muscular landscape of his chest, letting her eyes travel through the canyons and valleys before returning them to his face. She swallowed and sought to control her prana as her heart raced. “So this is what the end of the world looks like,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he answered, touching her elbows. He gently ran his fingertips up her arms, and she shivered lightly at the sensation. He slid his fingers under the straps of her dress, and began to slide them off her shoulders.

  “The world should end more often,” she decided, closing her eyes.

  “I can destroy the world any day you like,” he growled. “It’s my specialty.”

  Her eyes shot open at this, and she saw the pain behind the lust in his eyes. She knew that he also felt responsible for their failure. Oh, Thorn, she thought to herself sadly. She tried to regain her composure, and remind herself of what was important. I shouldn’t be here, she told herself. I shouldn’t be here with him, wasting time like this—not even half an hour! I should be out there, trying everything to stop that comet—beating it with my fists until the last second it collides with the planet. I shouldn’t be playing this foolish, trivial game to toy with my ex-lover. I have all these amazing abilities, and I’m squandering them—I should be doing something important.

  When she felt his soft lips press against her cheekbone, she realized the truth. This is important. He is the most important thing to me. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else on this day. The universe could crumble around me now, and I would hardly notice.

  Thornton’s mind was also racing as he let his hands roam over inch of Para’s exposed body. He uncovered her breasts, kneading the soft flesh with his hands, and sending his energy into the delicate nerve endings to stimulate her arousal. He could acutely feel her response, noticing the tiny hitches in her breath and the arch of her back as her body begged his hands for more.

  This is going to piss the hell out of Pax, Thornton realized. She’s going to sense what I’m doing—she will know I’m with another woman. That’s the whole point, of course—but somehow, I don’t like the thought that she might come after Medea. I will have to protect her—Medea is innocent in all this. She may be a pawn, but I won’t sacrifice my pawn to the vicious queen. I’ll just use her to reposition my queen, closer to the king, where she belongs. But sometimes pawns do get butchered. Pax will be furious—how I love it when she’s furious! As long as she’s close to me, I don’t care if she kills Medea or tries to kill me. This will get her attention—this will smoke her out of hiding.

  Smoke me out! Para thought in amusement. His hands had departed from her breasts and had circled around to her lower back, slipping down to cup her bottom. She lifted her face to lightly brush her lips against his, caressing his face with her mouth. I’m right under your nose, and you can’t find me. Her body was reacting strongly to his touch although she fought to keep her mind stable and aloof. She imagined that the simulator was affecting her hormones as well. How many of anyone’s actions or choices were based on logic, and how many were based on hormones? Thorn is willing to sacrifice me (to me) for me? What great lengths he would go to! No greater than my lengths, I suppose. We all want different brands of vengeance.

  Thornton continued tugging Para’s dress up inch-by-inch. I know Pax is trying to forget what we had and ignore me... but I won’t allow that to happen. Not tonight, on this night of all nights. I am going to shove my life directly into her face, as much as I possibly can. Medea, is the key—she is the cornerstone.

  When he pressed his mouth against hers, she was gone. Every ounce of resolve melted. She felt him lift her off the ground, and hardly noticed the swaying motion as he carried her, so focused she was on his lips and tongue. When she felt the bed against her back, part of her began to panic. No! This is too much, too fast—this can never happen! This man is my brother.

  “Wait!” she said, pulling the straps of her dress back over her shoulder. She pressed her hand against his bare torso, pushing him away hastily. “Thorn—let me… let me see if your clothes are dry.”

  “I don’t really give a damn about my clothes,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  Para inched away and looked around, panicking. She moistened her lips with her tongue. “What do you care about?”

  “I just...” He exhaled and rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes. He got off the bed and began to pace in the room. Was he really sure about this? Maybe he’d been moving too fast for her? She was pretty young, but they’d had several dates together at this point. It didn’t matter. He needed to try to be a gentleman—it was hard considering the circumstances.

  “Medea, do you want to do something else? Maybe watch a movie?” he asked, gesturing to the giant television in the bedroom she had never slept in.

  Para frowned, glancing at the random DVD collection—it had been purchased just to make it look like someone spent time in the house. Her eyes scanned the titles, and she mentally noted that the movies all lasted around 90 minutes. Too much time. She chewed her lip. That’s triple as long as I’ve got.

  “Choose a movie if you like. Hey! This is a beautiful antique,” Thornton remarked, suddenly noticing her hourglass. “The workmanship is very fine, and the sand is such an interesting color.”

  He turned the hourglass upside-down. The emerald sand began to fall.

  “It’s the most precious thing I own,” Para whispered. As she looked from the cascading sand to the naked man considering the ornament, a decision came to her. “Thorn. Get back over here. Screw the movie—I’m not a patient girl.”

  He looked at her with a self-satisfied expression. “Patience is a virtue, young lady.”

  She smiled at the wicked expression on his face, extending a beckoning arm. Her insides screamed at her to abort her actions. Pax! Good Sakra, you cannot do this. That’s my brother! It’s horribly wrong. I can’t be in this mind while you do this—pollute your own body. I can’t watch…

  Then don’t watch, Mara. Like you wouldn’t put me through worse if you had the opportunity.

  Well, maybe I would. That’s not the point...

  Amara Kalgren! I’m taking over this operation. Shut up and find a dark corner of my brain to sit in quietly for the next 23 minutes.

  “I can’t afford to be patient,” Para said softly as she watched him approach. “Not today. Life is too short.” Especially my life, she thought, glancing at the hourglass. “Or maybe I just can’t afford to be virtuous. It hasn’t gotten me very far in the past.”

  “Then you should be nefarious with me,” said Thornton, closing the distance between them. Their bodies collided with the force of two celestial objects, crushing and molding together. They were past the point of no return. Thornton pulled her hips tightly against his exposed lower body so that she kneaded against him in a tantalizingly rough way. Her bare thigh slid in between his as they naturally sought more aggressive and intense
contact. Slipping his hands around her thigh, his strong hands massaged the large muscles nearest to her most sensitive region, inching closer and increasing the blood flow to her vulva. The tease was unbearable. He released prana into her skin, and the tingling sensations of heat and power travelled through her skin to her perineum and labia. She groaned against his mouth.

  She had not expected this intricate attention; she had forgotten that he was never desperate and sloppy. His lovemaking was eloquently crafted poetry, not vulgar, careless speech. How many years had it been? She had forgotten this aspect of why she was so mad about Thornton Kalgren.

  This is for you, Pax, he thought to himself victoriously. Every time Para vocalized her pleasure, he could not help feeling smug and intensifying his administrations to elicit more reactions. I hope wherever you are, you’re sensing everything that I do with this girl. It could have been you, Paxie, if you weren’t so determined to be stone-hearted.

  I’m right here, lover. I’ll be sensing everything you do in more ways than you think, thought Para, still managing to appreciate irony from the depths of her arousal. You think that you’re going to sleep with someone else to get back at me for rejecting you? Little do you know! This is my game. This is my revenge, not yours. You think I’m a pawn, but I’m your queen in disguise. You’re my pawn, a knight at most—and you don’t even realize it. When you shed your king’s clothing, what will remain underneath?

  Without warning, Thornton grasped the hem of her dress and pulled, and a ripping sound was heard as the garment went sailing to the join his discarded robe. Thornton hastily began massaging her moist flesh through her white panties as he continued to assault her lips with his mouth, using his tongue to excite her taste buds with warm, sweet prana. He commanded every one of her senses—filling her with scents and tastes which quickened her pulse. He overwhelmed all of her nerves with electric sensations, completely taking her away from the world and its woes.