by Reid, Stacy
Then she stood, and raced along the hallway to her chamber, her powers flared wide, preparing to manipulate the thoughts of anyone who should see her. Thankfully, the corridors were empty, and she slipped into her chamber with a sigh of relief.
She gathered her heavy mass of silver hair and wrapped it into a tight coronet around her head. Then she grabbed her bodysuit from the closet. It was dark blue, sleek, and would fit against her body like a second skin. In this, she would be able to fight and run without hindrance. The material was also hard and would resist most slashes and stabs. She whipped the sari from her body, stepping from the sheer material.
A sharp inhalation had her spinning around. Shilah realized with an unpleasant shock, of fear, that someone was in her chamber and she had not sensed them.
“Who’s there?” she demanded, balancing on the soles of her feet, pushing her powers out trying to read their thought. There was nothing. Only a formless void.
Her gaze riveted on the dark spot near the top of her bed. Somehow, she knew that was where the person lingered, despite being unable to detect an aura.
No aura. “Is it you?”
She tried to appear unruffled, but anxiety seethed inside her, making the effort excruciating. She felt his eyes on every dip and hollow of her naked form. Shilah suppressed the instincts that urged her to clothe her body. That inattentiveness would be all that was needed for the watcher to pounce. She felt the caress of the watcher’s gaze on her face, and when it traveled down to her breasts and stopped. A flush ran over her body, and she reflectively raised her hands to cover herself. The soft hiss that rode the air froze her hands—it echoed dark and forbidding— and she slowly lowered them to her side. She wanted nothing to hinder her as she braced for what would slink from the darkened corner of her chamber.
Shilah could feel the beat of her heart through her tongue. Inexplicably she knew it was the stranger from earlier. Why had he returned? “I know it is you. Please show yourself.”
He stepped from where he lingered in the shadows. The light splashed across his savagely honed features. He prowled closer, and she forced herself to not show any weakness by retreating. Not liking the hint of darkness that wavered around him, she mentally turned on the crystals bathing the room in a wash of bright light. She regretted it instantly. For he faltered, his eyes turning to molten gold as he stared at her. Her skin burned at the brush of his gaze.
“You are beautiful.”
Her breath hitched at that reverent whisper.
She moistened her lips and dragged in air. “Why are you here?” It was safer to concentrate on that, instead of the insidious tension thrumming in the chamber. Shilah slowly reached for the sari she had discarded on the bed and held it in front of her covering as much of her nakedness as possible.
A golden gaze filled with banked heat collided with hers. “How old are you?”
She stared at him. He seemed bemused that he had asked the question. How unusual.
“Why is my age relevant?”
“Tell me.” A flat command and a warning.
“Six years above two centuries,” she said cautiously.
“You are a fledgling, you’ve hardly lived.”
The heavy regret in his voice had tension stealing through her limbs. The entire encounter was charged with a dangerous tension she did not understand. She did not want to arouse his suspicion even though she doubted he worked for the emperor. However, no one must know she planned to flee tonight. For any chance of success, the element of surprise had to be on her side.
“Are you a Mevian?” she demanded carefully.
“No.”
“Which kingdom are you from?”
A slow smile softened the hard edge to his mouth. “I cannot own to it.”
Her anxiety deepened. “Why not?”
“I am a spy, and you are in bed with my enemy, in every way.”
“I’m not the emperor’s lover,” she murmured, searching for his varied meanings.
“Are you not?”
“Why should it concern you if I am in his bed?” she asked, watching him as one would the most dangerous of animals.
The unspoken words were implicit in his penetrating stare. His face took on a cast of intense, aroused beauty, a touch of sensual cruelty about his mouth, Oh! He wanted her. That awareness drew a fierce, almost violent feeling from her, and a shock of heat darted between her legs, mortifying her. Breathing was nearly impossible as she waited for him to move, to say something.
An odd feeling of regret curled through her. Once she fled the empire, she would not see this man again. “At least tell me your name.”
“Lachlan Ravenswood.”
It suited him. Old world and elegant. “I want to be courteous and say it is a pleasure to be introduced, but I am anxious as to why you are here in my chamber without an invitation, again, Lachlan Ravenswood.”
She got the sense he had been here a long time too. He glided closer to her. Power hummed beneath the surface of her skin as she tried to read his intentions. His lack of aura bothered her, but she sensed there was something inside of him, still and watchful and so full of danger.
A fingertip brushed against her chin. His touch was inexplicably soft, entirely at odds with the sensual harshness of his expression. Her breath left her lungs in an unexpected rush and wings seemed to flutter lightly against the inside of her belly.
“I demand to know why you are—”
He dipped his head, pressed his lips to hers, catching her world on fire.
4
Shilah stood transfixed for a timeless instant, then shock exploded through her. His arm curved around her shoulders and dragged her against the solid wall of his chest. Lachlan Ravenswood’s kiss tasted like midnight, dark, deep, dangerous, and bone-deep satisfying. She gasped, and he stroked his tongue deep inside. She gripped his shoulders with the intention of pushing him away, and instead pressed her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders. Shilah trembled at the pleasure that arrowed through her with such exquisite delight. It startled her for she had never felt like this before, not from a mere kiss. He dragged the response from her with the raw force of his embrace, and she answered his desire kissing him back. Their tongues tangled, and she was at once helpless against the sweeping sensations working through her body and invigorated by the intense need humming through her. She got achingly wet. So fast she was mortified. Shilah could feel her flesh preparing for him, aching for his possession. Something deep within her belly quickened, sending sharp darts of longing through her.
I am kissing the enemy. For somehow, she knew this man was not an ally.
She pulled her lips from his, breathing raggedly. “I am the Princess of Dxyriah, I cannot—”
He kissed her. Again. Over and over.
The intensity of feelings he evoked had nothing to do with logic or reasoning and that brief protestation burned away under the tide of passion. Swirls of want and need denied too long came rushing to the surface. A muffled moan of surprise sounded against his mouth as she felt the cool silken sheets beneath her back.
When had he moved them? Her thighs were nudged apart and his heavy weight cradled between her legs. Tremors started in her stomach, delightful pleasure built, and she clutched at his shoulder, purring her approval. Even through his shirt, she could feel that he was pure muscle and sinew and strength. One of his palms cupped her breast, his fingers tweaking at her nipples, stabbing pleasure to the heart of her. She felt overwhelmed and tried to drag her thoughts from the hot pull of bliss. This should not be happening, not now.
Pushing at his chest, she tried to put some distance between them. His cock was thick and hard, pressing into the juncture of her thighs. He was large, at least twice the size of her previous lover. He gripped her hips and dragged her down so he could roll his hips against her, and Shilah arched into him, shivering as his aroused cock ground against her clitoris through his trousers. The shock of feeling him right there had her dragging her lips from his. Sh
e stared at him, suddenly and inexplicably petrified.
“Are you a witch?” she murmured, unable to accept any other explanation for her loss of self.
His ragged breathing puffed against her lips. “No,” he said, taking her mouth once again in a too dominant kiss.
The dark, rich taste of him enveloped her senses. Then two fingers were thrust deep inside her sex. She grunted against his mouth, her muscles straining to accept the invasion. She hadn’t taken a lover in years, as much as a half century.
“Your pussy is the tightest I’ve ever felt.” His voice was a rumble of carnal threat and promise and awe. As if he were amazed by her as if he too couldn’t help the desire arcing between them.
Then his fingers moved. Each stroke into her snug sex was a shock of agonizing pleasure. Shilah tore her mouth from his, her lips parted, but there was no breath left to scream. His eyes held hers as he split her legs even wider and moved his fingers deeper. His golden gaze on her was unrelenting, and she knew then he would take her. It was madness.
She moaned, terrified of the feelings coursing through her body and the sudden terrible need that welled up the depth of her soul. She had never had a casual lover, a night of burning passion, and the only consort she had ever lain with had been selected after months of careful consideration, and he had treated her like spun glass. Yet she was here, profoundly vulnerable and in lust with a stranger. Shilah distantly felt the force of his hunger, the painful ache in his cock, and the indefinable throb in his soul to claim her.
“This is madness,” he snarled, echoing her denials as if he too struggled to understand the needs driving him.
An aching, terrifying awareness of how much she wanted him inside her shot through her. Shilah had never felt like this about a man in all her years alive. She was hungry for every kiss, every touch, desperate for release. The shivering sensation low in her stomach felt as if she were falling, and a sense of unalterable consequences beat against her thoughts.
A decision has been made.
She shouldn’t have allowed his touch. Then his thumb glided with roughness over her clitoris, once, twice, three times while his fingers slid with slow depth into her wet sex, driving her toward bliss with the biting pleasure-pain of each fiery caress. And not once did he release her eyes from his. He looked powerful, intimidating, his face harshly sensual, and aroused. Heat burned between them. Perspiration trickled over her neck, between her breasts. Shilah’s heart raced, beating a harsh, driving rhythm against her breast. She bucked in his arms, her head twisting against the sheets as her body tightened. “Oh, Please!”
He kissed her, his tongue stroking into her mouth in a wet dance, a perfect mimicry of his wicked fingers. She lost her breath, control of her body, and her mind as ecstasy tore her apart. She wailed into his mouth as deep shudders of pleasure claimed her. Her mind reached for his and encountered a void. The bed lifted with them before slamming to the ground, and with a whimper, she worked to control the wash of her telekinetic power.
“Shilah, is everything well, I felt the walls tremble?”
The brush of her sister’s voice had horror icing through her veins. Kala waited, and here she was cavorting with a stranger.
“Get off me,” she breathed roughly, shocked, her body still shuddering in pleasure.
With languid grace, he rolled from her and stood. Shilah scrambled from the bed, watching him warily. He looked sinfully beautiful, arms, chest, and things roped with exquisite muscles. She hurried to the armoire, grabbed a silk robe, and held it before her. His lips curled in a sensually cruel slant, and she narrowed her eyes. “This was a mistake, and it will never happen again, stranger.”
“I agree.”
That she’d not expected. “You do?”
“Most assuredly, Princess Shilah. Fucking is not what I want from you. My reaction just now was an anomaly that will not be repeated.”
His slight smile sent a shiver up her spine, then a dark wave of power slid against her senses. “What was that?”
He canted his head, considering her. “What is what?”
“I…felt an aura for the briefest moment…it was unusual, and it came from you.”
He went wholly and utterly still. “In what manner?”
“It was darkness.”
He flinched as if he had been burned.
She moved back a few more paces, not wanting to be close to him. “What is it?”
Something savage and unknown emanated from him. It scared Shilah, and she slowly backed away even further, cursing herself for her stupidity in relaxing her guard. “I must ask you to leave, stranger, I require privacy.”
His mien was an implacable mask. “Regretfully I cannot accede to your wishes.”
“Why?” She kept her voice even, flat. She couldn’t lose control now.
The golden eyes which had glowed with hot desire iced over. He prowled a few steps closer. Shilah’s heart pounded. Though he had no aura, his every move communicated cunning and ruthlessness. She was abruptly drenched in a chilling sweat. “I…. You are here to kill me.”
Her soft words settled into the quiet of the chamber. He made no replied assurance, and her throat went tight.
A decision has been made.
The continued silence tugged on her instinct to flee. But to where? Her prison had been the safest place in the palace. And somehow, she knew this man would not let her escape his intentions whatever they were. “Answer me.”
“Yes.” There was a gentle finality to his words.
Her breath caught in her throat and fear cramped her stomach. “Why? I have no enemies in Amagarie.” Or friends. No one should want her death. The emperor had not sent him, she was far too valuable to his army. And then she knew that was the very reason she’d been marked for death. “I am not a part of the Emperor’s army. I am trying to escape him. Tonight,” she said hoarsely.
Curiosity flickered in that flat golden gaze. “Were you?”
“Yes. Look.” She waved her hands toward the small bag on the bed. “Everything that I value is there, and I packed to flee tonight. If you just let me go, I will disappear from Mevia and never return.”
He moved toward the left side of the bed, but instead of reaching for the bag he picked up the book the emperor had thrown at her feet earlier.
“What is this?”
And somehow, she sensed he knew the nature of the book. Her hands trembled. “It is the Darkage’s lexicon. It holds in its pages the origins of their beasts and how they mated.”
“Why do you have this?”
“The emperor ordered me to study from it, but I have no intention of doing so.”
“How many people have you tortured for the emperor?”
She flinched, guilt and regret rising to choke her. “Please, I—” she took a deep breath. “While I invaded their minds and read their secrets I did not take their lives. Even when he ordered me to.”
“And the Darkans you controlled at his command?”
“I am not certain what you have heard, but I was only able to pull forth the beast from two Darkans, and I did not kill them.”
Something haunting and merciless flashed in his gaze, and she stumbled even further away. “You do not have to kill me. I hate working with the emperor. He is a man without honor or conscience. I swear on my honor I was leaving the empire tonight. It is the emperor himself and his vile machinations I am running from. You could help me leave here. I am the Princess of Dxyriah, and my people await my return.”
“And do you believe the emperor will allow such a promising weapon as yourself to simply leave?” There was no mercy in that dark, expressionless face as he demanded, “A woman powerful enough to pull the chakra that lives within Darkans to life and then control it? Are you so foolish to believe he will not send his elite team of geikans to hunt you?”
She’d heard whispered rumors of geikans, that they were assassins of the highest order in possession of the deadliest and most unique abilities. How naïve? She h
adn’t considered the emperor sending assassins for her. “You could give me the chance to flee. There is no guarantee if I am hunted I will be caught. My realm is undergoing a revolution, and I must return at all cost. My people need me. I cannot afford to be recaptured, I assure you.”
He smiled. Barely. “And what do you believe the king of the dark will do to you when he discovers you are a weapon to use against his people? What do you think will happen when he learns you mercilessly invaded the minds of his kind, tormenting them, breaking them on the orders of the emperor?”
Dread iced through her veins.
“The death I offer you will be quick and painless. If you are taken to the Darkage to stand trial for the crimes committed against King Gidon Al Shra’s people, you’ll beg for mercy, and it will not come.”
She believed him. The rumors she’d heard of the dark ones painted a picture of unremitting brutality and a nation that was feared by all in Amagarie because every citizen of the Darkage housed a demon beast that was beyond powerful when utilized. She’d thought it mad that the emperor would try and capture even one of their kind. How had she not thought about the implications of the king of the Darkans finding out? Had the emperor prepared for that? “It was never my intention to hurt anyone,” she whispered.
She thought quickly of the other rumors that spoke of the Darkage as the kingdom that was in desperate need of wealth and trade advantages. “I will make atonement to the dark king when I am able to. I am wealthy. My kingdom is rich in minerals and technology that will benefit the Darkage, and I will offer them in recompense. I will also offer you and whichever kingdom you are from unmatched wealth. Just let me leave without a fight.”