by Isis Rushdan
“Would you have hated him if he left to be with me?”
“I…” he shook his head, “…no, but I’m certain a great many wouldn’t have understood. I pray for redemption. He need not be under the roof of Herut for that to happen. But it matters not now, for in the end Herut has won.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t trouble yourself with jealousy over a ghost. It is Herut that shall encroach upon his time and affection now.”
Elianus bade her goodnight.
With a heavy heart, she returned to her room and watched Cyrus sleep.
She was jealous. Jealous of a ghost. Jealous of Herut and of anything else that kept him from being completely hers.
A mistress she could incinerate with a plasma ball. Only two bullets to the gut had stopped her from trying to do as much to Lysandra.
But his House had a claim on him long before she’d even been born.
Cyrus was her sun and moon, but she couldn’t ignore the painful fact he was indeed the north star of Herut. A burden, a sacrifice, a destiny he didn’t want any more than she did. He’d rather be just a warrior and simply live his days with her at Valhalla, free.
Freedom was the true gift of being advenuati. Despite the chasm between her and Sothis, she could never repay her mother’s shrewdness in giving her a life without the shackles of a House.
First, they had to break this curse and put an end to the insanity threatening their lives.
Then, she and Cyrus could try to find happiness somewhere in between duty and honor.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Serenity bopped to the tune of DeVotchKa’s “You Love Me” playing in her head. She missed her iPod, which was long dead, on her morning runs and while painting.
Her shoulders shook to the beat of guitars as she mixed a dab of yellow daffodil with ochre oil paint. Humming the lyrics, she swayed side to side.
“You’ve been quite lively these past few days,” Neith said from her wingback chair.
“Hmm. I suppose I have.” She spun in a circle, humming.
“This is the second painting you’ve started. Do you think you have it right this time?”
She shrugged, focused more on the music in her head than Neith’s question. The ancient beauty’s soul remained elusive. For some reason, she couldn’t capture it.
“You’re still leeching.” Neith fanned herself with the peacock feather.
Leeching had become a daily practice. Even though she drew on Cyrus, it wasn’t enough. Her body always craved more. Energy bubbled light and bright as champagne in her core. Hunger drove her to stay full, saturated with the life force of the others and the more she pulled the more euphoric she became.
“I’m working on it. I’m plugged in and giving back.”
“It isn’t balanced. The flow must be even.”
She wiped her hands on a rag. “I’m going to go get water. Do you want anything?”
“My portrait finished. And you far away from my energy stream until you’ve achieved balance.”
Once cleared from the eye line of Neith’s doorway, she skipped and danced down the library hall to the beat of the music in her head. She refused to acknowledge the curious stares of the historians.
The sound of castanets came in after the bridge and she mouthed the lyrics.
Adriel rounded the corner from the walkway wearing a T-shirt, jeans and flip-flops.
Her heart leapt.
The shirt revealed sinewy arms. Denim caressed his long legs, highlighting their well-developed shape. Although he had the face of an angel, in that moment, she saw nothing angelic about him. He was all man—sexy muscle over long limbs.
She skipped to him, humming and twirling her hands. His face brightened with a wide grin. She waltzed into his arms and he gave a quick, tight hug.
“I’ve never seen you in ordinary clothes.”
His black T-shirt had a faded cartoon spaceman and rocket ship. Although it seemed silly, it suited him. With the music playing in her head, she danced around him in a full circle, carried on a whimsical cloud of joy fluttering through her bubbling energy stream.
He laughed. “I only wear them on the mainland. I’m about to go shower and change. I reek, so you’ll have to excuse me.”
Serenity sniffed his chest—citrus and fig. “You don’t smell.”
His cheeks blushed to the color of strawberries. “You’re too kind,” he said with his renewed New Zealand accent. “I’ve worn the same clothes for two days and perspired dreadfully in the plane, but I couldn’t wait.”
She brought her face close to his as if ready to exchange a top secret message. “Wait for what?”
He held up a large white paper bag and dangled it.
She snatched the bag and turned around to open it as she walked back into the library. He draped his arm over her shoulder and peered inside along with her.
“Chocolate!” she gasped with delight. There were six different kinds of candy bars and four boxes of assorted gourmet chocolates. Her energy stream ebbed from the collective and surged behind her in a gush that made her dizzy.
Adriel cupped her shoulder to steady her. “Are you all right?”
The dizziness passed as her stream merged with Cyrus’s. Holding up the bag, she looked over Adriel’s arm to show her kabashem the chocolate goodies. “Look, he—”
In whiplash speed, Cyrus closed the distance between them and struck Adriel in a fierce blow, knocking him from her side.
Adriel soared through the air across the room. His body slammed against the heavy bookcase, his head cracking against wood. Rows of papyrus scrolls slid to the floor in a deluge.
“Why was he touching you?” Blustering fury raged in her mate.
Cyrus ripped the bag from her hand and glanced inside. He snatched her elbow and dragged her to the bookcase.
“Don’t ever touch her again! Do you understand?” Cyrus threw the bag of chocolates as Adriel fumbled to stand.
Her heart pounded in her ears and she shuddered under Cyrus’s touch. Adriel was a thorn in both their hearts. She let another carefree moment of weakness slip away from her control, but the interaction had been innocent and in public. Cyrus was and always would be the one true anchor keeping her from drifting into oblivion, the shining light in the darkness, her reason for living. Surely, he had to know. “What’s wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?”
He stared past her as if he didn’t see her at all, as if he only saw his anger and the source of his contempt. Adriel.
For the first time, she feared her kabashem and what he could do with his immense power and dark strength if unleashed. And that fear was a tight fist in her throat. She looked down at his tightening grip on her arm, the pain intensifying. “You’re hurting me.”
Cyrus let her go, the taut muscles in his neck uncoiling, the bulging veins softening.
Adriel finally wobbled to his feet and wiped blood from his mouth.
“Are you okay?” Serenity asked, not daring to go near him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologize for me!” Cyrus pinned her with a ferocious look that stole her breath. The blaze in his Black Dragon eyes burned even hotter, setting them aglow. “I should have killed him. If he touches you again, I’ll crush his fucking hands.”
She stared at her husband, but an enraged stranger glowered back. He never came to the library to see her. Why today of all days, and at that moment? “Why are you here?”
“I need a reason to see you?” A white-hot burn crackled through their merged energy streams raking through her.
This roiling cauldron of rage was her fault and she seemed to keep making it worse. She reached for his chest to comfort him, to soothe the savage within before more blood was shed, but he smacked her hand away.
“That’s not what I meant. You never come up to the library.”
He hauled in several deep breaths. “I was supposed to work with the sentinels this week, but my detail was changed at the last minute because you wanted soap or shampo
o scented with some damn flower. I came to find out which one and to see if you wanted any other fragrance while I was trapped in another hut for the week.”
Her heart sank. She’d asked Neith if it could be arranged to have plumeria-scented soap. She had no idea Cyrus would be forced to make it.
“Cyrus,” called Neith. “A word in my office.” Her voice resounded with unyielding command.
He stood glaring at Serenity, chest heaving. She wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to calm him, but anything she did or said right now could tip a delicate situation beyond the point of no return.
The strain was eating away at him and the only way to fix it was to sever the unnatural tether to Adriel by any means necessary.
Chapter Thirty
Seething with a crazed fury, Cyrus stormed by Serenity into Neith’s office and slammed the door.
“Please sit,” Neith said.
He paced back and forth in front of the desk. He should have broken the boy’s spine and torn it from his body. No—such a death would’ve been far too quick.
“Cyrus, most of my life I have endeavored to see Kindred freed from the curse which plagues us. I have risked everything to bring you here and give both you and your kabashem a safe haven in the hopes we will be redeemed through the birth of your child. Nothing is more important to me. But I will not, under any circumstances, allow you to harm Adriel.”
At the mention of the boy’s name, Cyrus froze and met Neith’s icy stare.
Four sentinels flew into the office from the open air outlet. “There was a disturbance. Is everything all right?”
“I will let you know in a moment.” Neith’s gaze swung back to Cyrus. “Do not force me to choose between your welfare and Adriel’s,” she added.
Cyrus turned his back to the sentinels, put both palms on Neith’s desk and brought his eyes level with hers. “Do what you must, but if he touches my mate again, I’ll chop off his hands.” He kept his voice low, hard. “If he looks at her again with those sickening puppy dog eyes, I’ll pluck them from his head and stuff them down his throat.”
Neith didn’t blink or appear startled in the slightest. She merely leaned back in her chair. “Your kabashem probably hoped there’d be no need for you to know, but she has obviously miscalculated.”
“I know the boy shares some of her memories.”
“And the repercussions when he heals someone, the unfortunate nature of his secondary gift?”
Standing erect, he asked, “Repercussions?”
“It’s not their fault. Neither Adriel nor Serenity can help the unnatural bond that has formed between them. And nothing can be done to break it.”
Liquid fire rushed through his veins. “What unnatural bond?”
Serenity helped Adriel sit at a workstation. Two historians, Rabi and Dante, rushed to his side. Rabi rubbed his head and Dante stared at the office.
None of the other historians said anything, only stared.
Serenity brushed the hair away from Adriel’s forehead. Cyrus could’ve killed him. If he’d hit the bookcase at a slightly different angle, his spine would’ve snapped. “Are you okay?”
Rubbing the back of his head, he groaned. “I’ll live.” He looked up at her, squinted eyes as if in terrible pain. “Might be best if you’re not touching me when he comes out of there.”
“What!” Cyrus’s booming voice rattled her spine, making her heart quake.
A moment of silence, then shouting.
Cyrus swung the heavy office door open, tearing it from the hinges and hurled it into a wall. He emerged from the office, fists shaking at his side, eyes cobalt infernos setting his face ablaze.
Serenity staggered away from the others.
A gust of wind swirled around Rabi’s ankles, her long hair flowed back in the conjured breeze. Dante’s hands glowed bright red like two hot iron pokers as they moved to block Adriel.
Cyrus stalked by the terminals, spearing her with his gaze. “I want to talk to you in our room right now.” His voice was tight, strained.
Three sentinels flew into the library near Adriel.
“Serenity, come into my office.” Neith beckoned.
Cyrus brushed by one of the shifted warriors and looked back at her. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he said through gritted teeth.
As he stormed out of the library, their connection severed and her energy stream lashed out in pulsating tendrils, clawing after him, desperate to plug back in. Grasping a stone pillar, she steadied herself. After a deep breath, she entered the office.
A sentinel nodded at Neith, then flew out of the room.
Neith leaned against the front of her desk, arms crossed. “You must fix this situation. I won’t allow Adriel to be hurt.”
“I can’t deal with a lecture right now.”
“I told Cyrus about the endearment link between you and Adriel.”
Serenity pressed her palm against her forehead to stop the pounding ache building. “That’s the last thing he needed to know.”
“When a lie collides with the truth, there is always damage.”
“What kind of damage do you think there’s going to be now?” Her stomach did flip-flops to even think of it.
“Pheromones are clouding Cyrus’s judgment and he must sense the connection you share with Adriel, which is only making it worse.”
“What pheromones? He didn’t act like this before.”
“My dear, you must be in esuratus again. Your fertile time will heighten your kabashem’s primitive territorial instincts and sense of possessiveness. It will also draw Adriel closer because of his bond to you. I had hoped by some miracle you’d be pregnant by now.”
“Esuratus again?” Her cycles were always far apart by months. She’d never bothered to keep track. Their lives depended on having a child, yet she dreaded the responsibility of bringing a life safely into her insane world.
“Why do you think Adriel left of his own accord before? He couldn’t resist your smell. I thought he would take it upon himself to stay away longer on this trip. He knows the danger of being near you at such a time.”
That’s why Neith had given her and Cyrus two days off and room service. Too caught up in her sexual need for Cyrus and her guilt over what happened with Adriel, she hadn’t considered Neith’s ulterior motives.
A part of her, the dangerous part that sickened her and threatened to demolish her life, felt compelled to protect the connection with Adriel, but the rage that had burned in her kabashem’s eyes demanded it end. “How do I break the tether between us?”
“It cannot be broken.”
“I refuse to accept that.” Serenity stood in front of her. “There must be a way. I can’t be tied to Adriel like this anymore.”
Neith unfolded her arms and walked to the lion-headed statue. “Only death can sever the bond, but it can be managed.”
Hope withered. The pull to Adriel was insidious and strong, but his life was too high a price to cut the tether between them. “I’ve tried to manage it and only failed.”
“You know little of males. I suggest you speak with your mother. She can provide better instruction than I.”
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
Neith swiveled to look at her. “I do not believe she will refuse to assist you in this matter.”
Serenity glanced at the door lodged in the wall. “I have to go.”
When she left the office, Rabi and Dante stared, but Adriel was gone. She realized how easy it must have been for them to overhear her conversation with Neith and the embarrassment he must’ve felt if he had. But now wasn’t the time to worry about Adriel.
Serenity rushed down the hall, her mind a flurry of scattered thoughts. She had to find a way to salvage this mess. If she chose the right words, she might be able to repair some of the damage.
Turning the knob, she pushed the door to their room open and after hesitating a fractured moment, stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind her, and she whirled.
Cyrus had been waiting in the corner. Eyes a roiling blaze, he barreled toward her.
All of his dark, savage beauty twisted in a raging storm. He was her love, her life, and he had the power to tear her apart with his bare hands if he wanted.
Stumbling back, heart punching at her sternum, she opened her mouth to explain.
He wrenched her from the floor by the shoulders, stealing her breath. His fury scorched to her core and she feared she’d lost him. She’d played with fire, hidden too much, and deserved to burn. He glared at her as if deliberating whether to shake her or scream at her or worse. She braced for anything, but he seized her lips in a ruthless kiss, crushing her against his body.
Locked in the steel embrace of his arms, she fastened her legs around his waist.
He rotated, spinning their bodies, and smashed into the wall. She gasped in his mouth. His arms and hands had safeguarded her from colliding with the concrete crumbling behind them.
Sliding along the wall to an undamaged section, he fisted his hand through her hair, forcing her to look up at him. Her heart throbbed in her throat as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her with cruel lips that sought to ravage and possess. He kissed her, hot and fierce, searing her with his rage, branding her with his passion. He kissed her until all thought burned to ash, until she melted in the blistering fire of his body, until she swooned in the ache of needing him.
As he allowed her to draw in air, he tore the tunic from her body with two fingers and yanked her bra off, flinging it behind him.
She pulled his shirt over his head and kissed his chest.
He grasped her wrists and pinned them over her head.
His fiery gaze held her captive, demanding complete surrender. He ripped off her pants, exposing her moist sex, and roughly spread her legs. His chiseled thigh pressed against her wet nether lips and she quivered against the cold stone wall.
Ravenous arteries of her energy stream coiled around him, sucking on his pool, lapping at his very soul. A charged thrill washed through her and she raised her leg, tightening it around him, stroking his buttock with her calf.