“If I ever see you treat Kelsey that way again, I’ll do a hell of a lot more than just knock some sense into you. I highly encourage you to apologize. Do I make myself clear, little brother?” Ren demanded.
He left with Kadam and I listened to myself apologize to Kells and ask if she was still my girl. Kelsey just nodded, but I could easily see she was nowhere near as mad as I had been just now seeing Ana flirting with my old self. If it had been Ren throwing himself at the goddess, she would have been livid. Or at least heartbroken. Regarding me, she was neither of those things. I missed Kells. But she was happy. She’d moved on. It was time for me to do the same.
After they were long gone and Ana still hadn’t made an appearance, I folded my arms across my chest and said, “Don’t you think you have some explaining to do?”
In answer to my question, I heard the snick of a blade being unsheathed, and before I could react, the tip was pressed against the back of my neck.
“Shall we pick up where we left off, tiger?” a smooth voice asked.
Chapter 33
Shrine of Water
Backing up quickly, she tossed me another sword.
I turned and snatched the weapon out of the air. “Where did you find these?” I asked, admiring the gunmetal-gray sword, polished and sharp.
Ana shrugged. “Borrowed them from a warlord.”
I gave an exasperated grunt. “Did you go off and do something without me again?”
With a wolfish grin, she said, “Beat me and I’ll tell you.”
She leapt forward; her sword came down with enough force to cleave my head from my body. I spun and my sword met hers in a shower of sparks. I threw her back, but she kicked out her toned legs and twirled with a catlike grace, then managed to slice open my arm. Blood trickled down my elbow. Looking down, I frowned as I watched the wound heal itself. “Why are you doing this, Ana?”
Pacing back and forth, waiting for me to attack, she replied, “Why do you ask so many questions?”
“Maybe it’s because you never tell me what’s going on with you.”
“How about I just show you instead?”
She whipped the sword back and forth, cutting and darting, in perfect symmetry. Her hair flung out in an arc behind her, and if I could have just sat back and watched her in action, that would have been my preference. Ana was better than Kadam. She was better than me.
As a young boy, I’d watched her spar with my mother, the woman Kadam had said was unbeatable. I didn’t appreciate Ana’s skill fully then, but I certainly did now. Ana was good enough to beat my mother. As she danced around me, her deadly weapon hummed. The metallic clang of swords was like a sweet song, but it was a dangerous one, a song as enticing as the woman herself.
Ana slammed my wrist against the ground, the hilt of my sword hitting it with such power a stone shattered. I leapt, spinning over her in the air, and kicked off the wall. Speeding toward her, I angled the sword, aiming it right at her belly, but she deftly twisted as I knew she would, and I sailed past, rolling into a ready position once more. On and on we fought. The wax effigy lost arms and then a head. I clucked my tongue and teased her about disrespecting the goddess.
“If anyone disrespects a goddess, it’s you,” she panted, wiping a trickle of blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.
How am I disrespecting her? She’s the one who wanted to fight. I took advantage of her distraction and brought the hilt of my sword down on the back of her wrist. She dropped the weapon and it slid away. I was about to grab her when she twisted away in a backflip, kicking my chin in the process. When she stood again, the sword was back in her hand. “That is so typical of you,” she said. “Biting the hand that feeds you.”
“You’re getting me confused with a dog,” I said. “I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself.”
“Ah, yes. I forget how you do not need me for anything.”
Ana pressed forward again with deliberation, haranguing me with unwavering focus. I blocked her with sword and arm and legs, not really trying to win but at least endeavoring to prevent her from thrusting her sword into my heart, which she seemed alarmingly committed to achieving.
I was hoping that whatever was driving her would wind down eventually, but her strength didn’t ebb; in fact, it only seemed to intensify. If I didn’t put a stop to the fight, one or both of us might be seriously injured. After she nicked both of my heels, sliced open my cheek, and stabbed my shoulder, I growled. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“If I wanted you dead, you already would be.”
“Haven’t I taught you by now that badgering a tiger is a foolish thing to do?”
Mockingly, she replied, “What are you going to do, ebony one? Try to pull your claws on me? Please. I know every trick you have.” She sniffed and swiped at her nose, leaving behind an appealing smear of dirt.
“Not every trick,” I muttered tightly.
“At least he would be a worthier opponent,” she continued, ignoring what I said. “But then I’d have to give you credit for trying. Which, I assure you, is something I am unused to doing.” Pacing back and forth with narrowed eyes, her sword at the ready, she spat, “Go ahead. Do it.” Waving her arms wildly, she urged, “Take tiger form and we’ll see how you fare against me then. Not that you will. No. You are far too timid for something like that. You have been chasing after mortals for too long.”
We circled each other. Something was very wrong, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what it was. “Lest you forget, you were also mortal once,” I said.
“So I was. But I was never weak.”
I raised an eyebrow and she snarled and struck viciously, probably assuming I was implying something about her childhood. Doesn’t she know I would never use her past against her like that? The very idea of it disgusted me.
Dodging and parrying, I defended myself against her onslaught, but it was all I could do to maintain my ground. She kept egging me on, encouraging me to fight back, but I didn’t want to hurt her, and we were both tiring, getting sloppy. She could heal with the kamandal but what if I accidentally dealt a killing blow? I’d never forgive myself.
Ana became frustrated with my hesitancy. Derisively, she pushed, “Have I mentioned lately that I think you’re getting old? The younger version of you was chiseled and broad-shouldered. I’m afraid you’ve allowed yourself to become soft. Your tiger form is rangy. You now have a distinctive double chin and your muscles are as yielding as plumped dough before baking. Also, I think your hair is thinning,” she goaded. “Perhaps it is the lack of red meat in your diet.”
I froze for a moment, stunned at her verbal ambush. Is she kidding me? Almost without thinking, I ran a hand over the top of my head and then growled when she snorted. Ana spun then, lifting her sword. She was trying to distract me by bruising my ego, and to my great consternation, it had worked.
Pressing the tip of her sword against my chest, she added, “You see? You’re no longer a match for me. I could have killed you several times already in just the last minute alone. And I didn’t even have to use my powers. That is how impotent you are.”
Holding up my hands, I narrowed my eyes and said, “You push too hard, Ana. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours right now. I wish I did. But since you don’t seem to trust me, I think it’s best not to fight with you right now.”
“Of course you do not wish to fight,” she spat. “You want nothing to do with me. You’re a soft man who only wants to battle with fluffy words that mean nothing. You keep me close when it suits your purposes and then toss me aside when you want to be alone. I do not understand you. You sparred with Kelsey. Long enough that she became a decent fighter. Why will you not do the same for me? You owe me at least that much.”
Huffing out a frustrated breath, I said, “First of all, Kelsey wasn’t trying to kill me when we sparred. Secondly, you don’t need me to train you. You’re already better than I am. Is that what you want me to admit? That you’re more pow
erful? It’s a given. You’re a goddess.”
“Yes,” she yelled. “I am the almighty, untouchable goddess Durga. Too good for you to make any effort whatsoever. Where I am the ocean, other women are as trickling streams. But I ask you, where do men go to drink, the salty sea or to the fresh, nubile waters of oases that have more to offer?”
When I stared at her mutely, confounded by the turn in the conversation, she wrinkled her nose and sneered.
“I think we both know what you prefer,” she said. Looking me up and down, her green eyes glittering and raw, she finished with, “You are a coward, Kishan.”
Setting my jaw, I raised a finger, stabbing the air with it. “Don’t call me Kishan. You want to fight, Ana? Fine. Then toss aside your weapon. Let’s spar the way I did with Kells.”
“I do not wish to hear anything about what you did with Kells.” Ana hissed the last word but snapped her fingers and the swords vanished.
“Just remember,” I said, holding out my hands and circling her, “You wanted this.”
“Why take pains to give me what I want now? You never have before.”
I was about to call her impossible when she attacked. Before I knew what happened, I was flat on my back with her on top of me smacking my head down against the stone floor. Grabbing her shoulders, I spun, tossing her aside, but she quickly kicked up, and just as I stood, her foot met my gut. With a whoosh, the air left my body and I doubled over. Her knee slammed into my chin and she wrenched one of my arms behind my back.
Her hot breath tickled my ear as she said, “I told you you were getting soft.”
Something primal shifted in me and I snarled. I stamped hard on her foot and then barreled backward until she hit the stone wall. The unmistakable sound of pebbles dropping to the floor meant we’d broken more of the temple. The move knocked the breath out of her and she dropped my arm.
Spinning quickly, I wedged one of my legs between hers and swept her feet out from under her. She came down hard on the solid floor and I had a moment of weakness. Moving closer, I asked if she was hurt, but she opened her eyes, smiled, and kicked me in the kidneys for my effort.
All bets were off then. We dove and twisted. Caught each other in headlocks. Tossed each other across the room until we were battered, bruised, and surely had a broken bone or two or twenty, and neither of us was inclined to stop. The fight had turned desperate, almost cruel.
Both of us were trying to prove something to the other, but neither of us had any idea of how to achieve it. I had no awareness of how much time passed, but when I looked up, the breath heaving in my lungs, I saw that the light in the temple had traveled across the floor and up to the ceiling. We were both exhausted. I feigned to the left and caught her off guard. Pressing her against the wall, I pushed my heavy arm across her throat and said, “Still think I’m soft?”
She tilted her head, birdlike, uncaring that I could cut off her breath at any moment. “Not soft perhaps, but still a coward.”
Ana’s beautiful dress was ripped, flapping jaggedly in several places. A torn sleeve had slipped precariously off one honey-kissed shoulder. The hair that had once been so perfectly arranged hung down around her in an unruly jumble, offering me teasing glimpses of the generous curves that her gown now barely covered.
Even though she was trapped, she heaved her body and struggled against me, trying to kick me between the legs or stomp on my instep. “Now, now. None of that, my lady fair.” I moved closer. My body shoved tightly against hers so there was absolutely no way for her to move.
She gasped and my eyes were drawn to her lush mouth. I felt a tremble go through her and knew what it was. Fear. Not fear of defeat or fear of death, but fear of a man and the things a man could do to a vulnerable woman. It tore me up inside. “Do you concede?” I asked softly.
“Never,” she answered, lifting her chin defiantly. Her cheeks were rose-tinged from our fight. Her hair was damp with perspiration and her eyes were hard as gemstone. There was a streak of dirt on her cheek and across her forehead. It didn’t matter. She was beautiful. She was mesmerizing.
Despite the cold I felt at knowing what a man who’d hungered after Ana had done to her as a child, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting her. Closing my eyes, I tried to temper my desire. The tiger in me had caught his prey and he wasn’t about to let her escape. He wanted to dig in his claws and claim what was rightfully his. But I wasn’t a beast. At least, not always.
Not trusting my voice, I spoke to her mind instead, and said, I know why you quake, Ana. Trust me when I say it will be easier for you to leave than for me to walk away. Use your magic to escape, I entreated.
You think I wish to flee? she countered.
Confused, I slowly moved my arm away from her throat. If you could read my thoughts, you would.
“I am not afraid of your thoughts,” she said out loud.
“Then tell me what it is you want from me.” I replied, my voice low and menacing. As my eyes fixed on the pulse at her throat, I lowered my head, swallowed heavily, and said, “What do you want, Ana?”
Her dark brows lifted and she wet her lips. Then, her voice catching, our hot breaths mingling together, she said, “I want…I want…”
Before she could finish, I slammed my mouth against hers. I expected her to push me away or disappear, but the exact opposite happened. She whimpered and cupped the back of my head, pulling me closer. When her lips opened, it was my turn to groan. Threading my fingers through hers, I slapped her hands onto the stone. Her entire body was wriggling and straining as her lips danced with mine with as much roughness as she’d shown during the fight.
Though I was aware of nothing at first except her mouth and her body, soon I recognized the telltale tingle of power that signified our bond. It was muted and stifled at first, but the longer the kiss went on, the more it invigorated our connection. I was intoxicated by it. By her.
A part of my mind knew there would be a consequence. That this bond would become permanent between us if I allowed it to fully develop. I growled in the back of my throat, knowing she deserved to choose. It was all I could do to stem the tide and ask if it was what she wanted.
Ana? My body thrummed but I locked thoughts with her, sending her a vague image of what was happening.
Yes, was her only reply.
It was like pouring gas on a fire. There was no more doubt. No more hesitancy. No more asking. Only taking. And the pressing need to forge into unbreakable steel the sizzling chains that connected us. Soon my limbs crackled with a silvery energy. The humming of our bond brightened and intensified, matching the crash of passion as we tormented one another, stoking the fires of desire.
She escaped my grip and yanked on my hair while I wrapped an arm around her waist and picked her up, slipping my other hand into her wild tresses and angling her head so the kiss could deepen. When one of her legs slid up my thigh, I was seriously close to losing the feeble grasp on control I had.
The unending kiss was bruising and brutal, dangerous and fiery. Very different from the one in the forest, but no less powerful and no less life-changing. It was both punishing and promising. And it whispered of things neither of us was quite ready for. So I pushed her back against the wall to pin her body and calm her feverish response. It didn’t do much to cool my heated blood, but it did work on her.
Breaking the kiss, I touched my forehead to hers. Both of us were panting. And I feared that whatever I said next could ruin everything and take us right back to where we were when she’d thrown me the sword. Before I could speak, she warned, “If you try to apologize, I will banish you to the darkest abyss I can find.”
“Good to know,” I said, a sort of relief washing through me. Raising my head, I found she wouldn’t meet my eyes. I lifted the hair that fell across her damp cheek and pushed it over her shoulder, then gently ran a hand over her shoulder and down her arm, relishing in the familiar tingles.
“Our bond is back,” I said, lifting the corner of my mouth. A bond s
eemed like such a tiny word for something so intimate, so indefinably powerful.
“It would seem to be,” she said. Ana’s expression did not give me any indication that she was as affected by our kiss as I was. Her muscles were tense and her skin was hot. She was a coil ready to spring.
I leaned back but was unwilling to remove my hands from her skin. “Why won’t you open your mind to me?” I asked quietly, reveling in the thrum of our connection as it shot warm tingles into my palm where I touched her. My body was sore, my muscles tired, but my nerves were invigorated just by being close to her. “I need to understand what’s happening here. I want to know what you’re thinking,” I said. “Share your thoughts with me, Ana. Please.”
Pushing away from me, she turned and walked out of the temple. Every inch she put between us felt like a mile. I wanted her back in my arms with an intensity that shocked me. I’d never in my long life felt as possessive of a woman as I did with her. In that moment, I realized I never wanted to part with her. With Yesubai and Kelsey I’d felt attraction and tenderness. Both girls were sweet and loving. I returned their affections and thought I might have been happy with either one of them.
But with Ana there was an aching. It was raw and painful. She had the power to make me so angry that my vision went red and all I wanted to do was…was push her against a wall and kiss her until she stopped talking. When she was sad, I wanted to wrap my arms around her and hold her until all her sorrow leached into me instead, sharing her pain as she had done when I suffered. The very thought of making her happy was a wish that haunted me.
She was the woman in my dream. I knew the curve of her cheek, the feel of her hair, and the taste of her kiss. I had absolutely no doubt of it now. And I would do anything to make that sweet vision come true.
My emotions were out of control with Ana in a way they had never been with the other two girls. Loving them had felt easy. But with Ana, it was complicated. Difficult. Even as a young boy, I’d cried when she left me. It seemed she’d always been able to wrest emotional responses from me. As I watched her leave, I was acutely aware of the staccato tempo of my pulse.
Tiger's Dream (Tiger's Curse Book 5) Page 52