Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2

Home > Other > Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2 > Page 37
Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2 Page 37

by N. Isabelle Blanco


  That’s the one name I really don’t want to hear right now.

  “Dude, wasn’t Crius supposed to be here?” Cy stops next to us with two drinks in his hands.

  I would judge him, but Ianthen’s right behind him, and he has three.

  Sillizi, Liz’s black-haired twin and Goddess of Darkness, waltzes up to our group looking way too stunning in her midnight blue dress. “I believe I see him coming in now. Oh, baby.”

  I turn towards where she’s pointing.

  Dammmmnn. Hello, God of the Underworld.

  The big motherfucker walking in is the definition of animalism. His arrogant gait matches every other part of him.

  “Drink, bitch. Drink. He has that effect on all females,” Liz says under her breath, making another glass of lausanne appear in her hand and chugging it.

  “Hey, have you seen . . . Oh, holy shit. I think I just came,” Soleria gasps, slamming to a halt next to me.

  I hear a small growl from my left. I don’t have to look to know it’s a certain blue-haired creature—cough, Ian, cough—who’s most likely chugging all three of his drinks at once.

  Cyake waves over the black-haired guy who just walked in. “Yo! Cri! Bro, it’s been forever!”

  Crius’s silver eyes move in our direction. The God of the Underworld has no pupils, and it takes me a moment to process that.

  He doesn’t seem too happy to see Cy.

  Crius takes a couple of steps and then stops, looking startled. The way his big body jerks is freaking comical.

  Especially when I see the reason why.

  “Dimi!” It’s time to play with the God of the Underworld. I heard what he did to her the last time they saw each other. How he physically kicked her out of Renentr. “There’s your hot ass! Looking for someone to fling it at tonight?”

  Yeah, I’m loud enough to call the attention of everyone around us, but that isn’t so wrong, is it?

  Nah.

  Dimithinia stares at me with a confused look. Until she notices the individual glaring down at her with all the fury of his domain. When she sees it’s Crius, Dimi flips her long hair over her shoulder and literally sashays towards me, the slit of her dress showing off just enough leg and thigh.

  As far as displays go, I have to admit I fucking love it.

  Take that, asshole. You’re just another male idiot about to suffer for your foolishness.

  And there’ll be more of them before the night is over. There’s a reason I picked out my dress, after all. Even if he doesn’t make it, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

  “Fling myself at? Perhaps I am thinking about it. Are there any takers?” Dimithinia asks.

  Cy innocently raises his hand.

  The laser glare with no pupils focuses back on him.

  And cue the evil genius laugh in my head.

  Crius is so jealous that he’s ready to end Cyake’s life for lusting after Dimi.

  I smirk as she and Crius join us. Ian, he seems happy enough to greet, but Cy?

  I use my drink to hide my big ass smile.

  Wondering where Ismini is, and really hoping she and her R’mann haven’t decided to unnecessarily consecrate another place, I leave the group to go look for her.

  I make it out into the hall.

  Cold bombards me. It’s not the first time. It’s been happening since I woke up. I lean against the wall. A few breaths. That’s what it usually takes for this feeling to recede.

  This time, though, it isn’t really going away, and the pain in my veins throbs harder.

  Of course I know what this all means. And it’s so fucking unfair. So fucking wrong. How could this be chosen for me against my will?

  It was chosen for Ismini.

  Yeah, but just because it worked out for her doesn’t mean it’s going to work out for me. Not with the way my luck usually runs.

  The male I belong to is supposed to also belong to me. Without that little magic ingredient, a Fieren can’t be avoided.

  I step further into the hallway and keep going until I reach the opposite wall and lean my back against it.

  His presence is in my veins, fucking with me. Teasing me. It’s almost as if he’s here, but I know that’s impossible. He would’ve made himself known to his friends, right?

  So then why does it feel like he’s—

  Oh, holy shit.

  I’m pretty sure my jaw just unhinged.

  I can’t move.

  My heart twists with fury and need.

  I can’t look away from the giant storming towards me.

  He is here.

  No denying it. His presence has me on the verge of hyperventilating. I want to smack myself for the obvious reaction I’m having to him.

  But I can’t stop it.

  One look at him and I’m shaking, wet, hungry deep in my core.

  In all black, he’s nearly frightening. His eyes flash between blue-and-gray and red-and-black, and his cheekbones seem more prominent than before.

  He materializes right in front of me. Two giants fists slam into the wall by my head.

  I gasp, jumping in surprise.

  “Why are you wearing that dress?”

  “Huh?” My eyes are locked with his and unable to move.

  Zeniel leans towards me, his face too fucking beautiful and vicious. The sight of his jaw twitching makes me clench everywhere.

  Horrified, I feel a rush of wetness leave me. His nostrils slightly flare.

  He can smell how wet I am. He knows what he’s doing to me.

  Gorgeous bastard.

  A growl rumbles out of him. In a flash, he presses his big body against mine. His hand grabs my jaw.

  His touch registers—a force that can only be the R’mannev barrels to life. I barely lock down on the urge to jump on him and rape him.

  “Answer me. They’re all fucking looking at you. I see them. Why are you wearing it? Are you trying to drive me crazy? Or other males?” He gets even more up in my personal space.

  His eyes turn completely black while red lines appear across his cheeks and move higher. The lines merge with the black ones that seem to leak out of his eyes.

  Mavrak.

  He’s. Freaking. Perfect.

  The most sexual thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  It doesn’t even register in my mind that Mavrak’s eyes are supposed to be red and black, not full-on black.

  “Fuck . . . you,” I gasp, furious and so horny I can barely think.

  He’s gone for weeks, leaving me yearning for him, and he has the nerve to storm in here and pretend he’s jealous?

  Two distinct tones rumble in my ear. “Oh, I plan on making you do so.”

  “N—”

  “Yes.” His fingertips ghost across either side of my jaw.

  Soft. So soft. So gentle.

  Then, they shoot into my hair, latching on with every bit of strength he has. My lips part, pain and shock rushing within me. If I wasn’t as strong as I am now, he would’ve ripped my hair off. My skin. Everything.

  And still, his grip tightens, forcing my head back.

  “You’re mine.” His tongue snakes out, flicking my earlobe. His teeth follow, barely nipping.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  I fight it, torn between the anger and frustration he unleashes in me. “No.” Struggling to breathe, I grab onto his biceps. “Not fair. You don’t get to—”

  “I do. You’re mine.”

  I freeze, lids peeling back so quick I’m afraid I’ll lose them in the back of my head. He can’t know. There’s no way . . .

  Fuck, if he knew all this time I’ll kill him.

  Anger takes control of my hold, funneling all my strength until my nails tear through the leather of his jacket.

  Through the skin underneath.

  “Gods. Yes. Make me bleed.”

  A desperate, carnal sound leaves me, the kind that shocks me almost as much as his request. No he didn’t. There’s no way he just asked me to do what I think he did.

&
nbsp; Two voices groan, both equally as dangerous and coming out of his throat. “That sound . . . I missed you, Eve. Would’ve been here when you awoke had I known. I told them to fucking find me.”

  Zen nips at my jaw; drags one incisor across it. It’s elongated and sharp. So sharp it threatens to slice right through my skin even though it barely touches me.

  No way. No fucking—

  “You will never wear anything like this unless I’m around. Got it, Evesse?”

  —way.

  “What the fuck did you just say?” I gasp, pushing with all my might.

  I manage to move him an inch. Which is impressive. I have almost three-hundred pounds of muscle, godly power, and apparently, determination pressed against me.

  “Unless I’m around to show them who you belong to, you will not dress like this in public. You’re mine.”

  I want to give that statement the purdy comeback it deserves. Really, I do. I open my mouth to do so, too.

  “Uhn!”

  Plump, firm lips and a hot, ruthless tongue cut off any and all capability of speech. Zen echoes my moan with a groan as he angles his head, his body pressing deeper and his hips forcing their way between my legs.

  Those lips, hot and ruthless, become the center of my Universe. Zeniel goes in without mercy, his tongue sliding home before I’ve fully opened my mouth. It’s wet and smooth as it connects with mine over and over, refusing to give me any control over the situation.

  I arch, latch onto his hair, and moan his name. The idea of fighting him is long gone at this point. Destroyed as if it never existed.

  I rub my chest against his, my nipples aching for contact. Zeniel pulls away, his breath teasing me. Hungry for more, I pull on his hair and lean in.

  He gives a warning growl, his hands retaliating and pulling on my hair. He jerks my head back hard, that luscious mouth of his attacking my throat.

  Weakness rushes through me, followed by drunken lust.

  A burn starts to etch across my neck, too focused to be random. Too detailed to be a mere flush.

  It’s the mark, I’m damn sure of it.

  It hadn’t appeared yet, but I know all mated beings get one. And when Zeniel’s teeth scrape my neck while his pelvis rolls into me, pressing a good nine inches of hot, throbbing flesh against my pulsating pussy, the lines all but burst forth.

  He isn’t going to fit inside me. That’s the only thought that flashes through my head for a second, followed by pure, unadulterated, misplaced excitement. ‘Cause there’s a good chance he’s going to hurt me with the monstrous thing he has going on between his legs.

  And I can’t fucking wait to be torn by it, consequences be damned.

  The burn in my neck intensifies. Does he know? If he doesn’t know, I can’t let him see. There’s no way I’m ready to let him know.

  Zeniel pulls me away from the wall, dematerializing us both. We slam back into form inside a room—his room. His scent is all over the place, even saturating the walls, and I’m almost knocked to my knees.

  “What are you doing?” I manage to pull away from him, fingers reaching up to cover my neck.

  “Evesse.”

  “No.” I stumble away from his outstretched hand. Confusion and lust rob me of my common sense, but even so, I know there’s no way he can just barge in here and have me at his convenience.

  I’ve gone through too much without him to allow that.

  I fucking cried over him.

  The reminder gives me the dose of anger I need to move away from him. My body weeps, every vein pounding to the point that everything around me seems to pound as well.

  Zeniel walks to me, his black-and-red eyes watching me. His brow tenses, his fists clench. He’s barely holding himself back from flinging himself at me.

  “Evesse. Listen—”

  “No.” I stumble back another step, my mouth watering as his scent invades me. It’s everywhere. God help me, it’s on my skin, covering me. I need more. Need . . . no. “You. You left.”

  It’s all I’m able to say. My stomach cramps. I wrap my arms around myself.

  His eyes freeze on my neck as he advances. I have no doubt what he’s looking at, and the lack of surprise on his face has me ready to commit murder.

  Or suicide in this case, because killing him means killing myself.

  So be it, it’ll be worth it. That bastard, he knows. He fucking knows I’m mated to him and he still stayed away.

  “Evesse.” Zeniel barks my name so forcefully that I find myself stopping against my will, my body obeying his command.

  “You left.” Damn me, this time my words come out as nothing more than a whimper.

  Zeniel flings off his jacket and begins stalking around me, those unholy eyes scanning my body worriedly. “I had no choice.” The more he looks at me, the tenser he becomes, muscles bulging with strain and veins swelling on his forearms.

  I almost bite my tongue. My legs shake. My arms tighten around my middle as I try desperately to hold onto the anger. “Fuck that. There’s always a choice. Even I, an ex-human, know that. You made yours. So, I made mine.”

  “And what choice is that?”

  “Someway, somehow, I’m going to exist perfectly fine without you. Hell, I’ve been doing really well so far.”

  The muscles on his beautiful face tighten. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” The lines on his jaw and neck begin to writhe, and his features morph with anger, becoming more dangerous. His cheekbones grow so pronounced that the hollows beneath seem stark. “Evesse, don’t push me. I still haven’t regained full control.”

  Obviously. I’m almost sure it’s Mavrak I’m speaking to, and hate that seeing his demon half has me seconds from dropping to my knees.

  Or flying onto the bed, legs spread, and body arching in a plea.

  The sheer thought of baring myself to him has me gushing. The tiny, flimsy thing I’m wearing as underwear isn’t going to be able to hold back my wetness. It’s seconds from dripping down my thigh. Embarrassing.

  Zeniel’s nostrils flare and he stops mid-stride, his eyes sliding closed and an agonized groan leaving him.

  No. No. He knew Eve, remember. He left you like this and he knew you belonged to him.

  “Isn’t that why you left in the first place?” I finally manage to ask, relieved when the necessary bite flows behind the words. “Because you weren’t in control? Well, then. You can carry along in your search for that control. I’m leaving.”

  Zeniel flashes in front of me, blocking my way. The markings on his face writhe even more. New lines appear under the sleeves of his t-shirt, caressing his large biceps lovingly as they move. “Eve. You’re not helping me right now. You need to calm the hell down.”

  Wrong thing to ever say to me. Ever. Especially considering what I’ve been going through without him the last week.

  The first hit to his chest takes Zeniel by surprise, his grunt and his expression both shocked. His shoes skid across marble from the force of my blow. It’s good. So good.

  But it isn’t enough.

  “Damn you. I woke up and you weren’t there. You weren’t fucking there!” I beat against his chest repeatedly, so hard that the walls shake with each blow.

  Still, he stands there, taking my hits.

  “I know,” he says in a low voice that drips with an apology I don’t want to hear right now.

  I pull back, ready to aim at his face next. Zen’s hands shoot out, grabbing onto my wrists before I can execute my move. My spine catches fire as rage blows up inside each vertebra. I nail him in the knee with my heel.

  Zen grunts, almost buckling, but he refuses to let go. He flips me around, my wrists in his grip, and I end up with my back facing his chest and arms forcefully wrapped around myself.

  Before I can kick him again, he drags me cursing and struggling straight into his body.

  I freeze and gasp, feeling that erection of his pressing right between my ass cheeks—huge, unrelenting, and oh-so-fucking tempting.
<
br />   “Fight me all you want, I can smell how drenched you are, my female.”

  With a growl that nearly scares me, Zeniel dives for my neck, moving my hair aside with his face, nuzzling my skin brusquely. Almost as if he wants to merge his flesh with mine. He latches onto my mark, licking and sucking it so hard that a small piece of skin actually rips open.

  The moment my blood touches his tongue, an orgasm explodes inside me.

  Zeniel moans desperately, holding me still.

  Then, right as I’m about to lose my mind from the feeling of my empty walls convulsing, he snarls and sinks his teeth into my neck.

  CHAPTER 17

  EVESSE

  T he violent tremors I have going on are nothing. Hell, the orgasm still playing squeeze-and-release with my inner walls is nothing. Not when compared to the shock of realizing that there’s only one reason Zeniel is drinking from me.

  He’s mated to me.

  And hey, doesn’t that send my orgasm onto a whole new level? Fireworks shoot off between my synapses. “Zeniel.”

  He’s shaking now, too, moaning hoarsely, and taking long pulls from my vein. Releasing my arms, he grabs onto my hips and grinds into my ass. Deep rotations press hard into me, and I feel his cock jerking inside his jeans.

  He’s coming.

  “Oh my God. Baby.” I collapse against him, my body convulsing angrily—empty. My fangs descend. My insides surge with hunger, leaving me deranged, desperate . . . wild.

  Blindly, I search out his wrist, latching on and pulling on it with all my might. It’s almost like playing tug-a-war with an elephant. The man simply doesn’t want to let me go. Growling, I yank until I’m able to pry the fingers of his left hand from my hip. In a flash, I have his wrist at my mouth. His skin seems to draw my incisors in before I’ve even decided to bite down.

  His blood rushes into me, almost as if it’d been desperate to do so. I turn into a livewire of pure sex as I come again. Our scents blast into the room, a pulsing wave of high octane arousal.

  Zeniel rips his mouth away from my neck. His breath is harsh against my ear. He lets go of my hip, and slides his hand between my legs, pushing the skirt aside.

  “That’s it, my R’ma. Drink me. Take me,” he whispers roughly into my ear.

 

‹ Prev