“Your Lady blessed you well.”
Her throat clogged with shame. “I’m not a true Daughter.”
Zahak tilted her face up to the moonlight. Solemn, he stared into her eyes, seeing so deeply he surely saw the Shadow on her heart. He would see the truth, the dark ugliness of her life growing up beneath her brother’s lash, the terrible things she’d done.
Panicked, she tried to jerk her chin out of his hand, but his grip was firm. He took another step closer, his other hand drawing her against the heat of his body.
His scent flooded her senses, stirring shame into longing. She couldn’t bear it if he turned away again. Bad enough he rejected her out of duty and love for his brother, it would kill her if he fled in horror from the darkness tainting her blood.
“She Who Hung the Moon shines in your eyes, azharana. I see nothing else.”
Swallowing hard, she fought to keep the sobs from ripping out of her throat. “You don’t see the Shadow?”
He shrugged. “We all carry Shadow in Keldar.”
A strangled cry, half sob, half desperate laughter, escaped her mouth. Blood lines traced to the Lord of Darkness were an abomination in the Green Lands, and rightfully so. Darius had secretly reveled in their heritage, encouraging the whispers of darkness staining his soul. He’d gained many dark arts and cruel desires through that taint, which made his behavior even worse. “You—you do?”
“Yama the Black, He Who Breathes Despair, sired us, along with Agni and Somma. Her holy blood is nearly extinct, now, torn apart by war and strife, sacrificed in our futile efforts to gain forgiveness.” Zahak touched the tattoos on his cheeks. She knew they were mostly red with some black markings, but in the night, the glyphs all looked the same. “Black for Yama, red for Agni, white for Somma. You won’t see white on any warrior’s face in Keldar.”
Taking a deep breath, she forced the truth from her lips. “I could not wear white either.”
“You don’t need white.” Zahak traced his fingers across her cheek, his voice as feather light. “You carry Somma in your eyes.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Choking misery crowded her mind, bringing back those she’d tricked or used to win Darius allies, the times she’d stood silent and powerless while her brother tortured others, and those when she’d been helpless and bleeding herself. “All my life, all I’ve ever known are Shadows.”
Zahak’s eyes blazed, flames flickering in those dark depths. “You shine through the Shadow, azharana.” Leaning down slowly, holding her gaze, he whispered the next words against her mouth, his breath fluttering against her. “I will not allow anyone to hurt you ever again, especially me.”
So much emotion tore through her that she feared she might fall apart. Only the look in his eyes kept her together. She refused to speak, afraid of his rebuff. She would not turn him away from his brother whom he obviously loved. His breath quickened, puffs of spice and heat tormenting her. She wanted his tongue sliding deep, his lips hard, his teeth against hers. Want, need, hope, trembling with desire, she forced her body to remain still and quiet.
Finally she could bear no more. Her breathing harsh, she turned away, forcing her gaze away from such temptation. “I don’t plan to sleep. Any tent will do.”
His big palms closed over her arms, warm and gentle as he smoothed his hands up and down. His mouth brushed her ear, sending wildfire roaring through her veins to char her heart. “I don’t want you in any tent but mine.”
Melting, she was melting. All she had to do was turn around and accept his arms, his body. And then...
He would hand her over to his brother.
“I need you.” His voice lowered to a rumble. “Just for tonight.”
Was that her breathing, so loud and frantic? How could she ever walk away from him?
Sagging back into his embrace, she knew she’d rather die than never know his body against hers.
He picked her up, his mouth at her ear, his bare chest sizzling through her clothes and carried her into his tent. She lay back on the cushions on the floor in his tent, and stared up into his eyes, lost.
Her voice was hoarse, broken with need, but she had to know. “No 'just for tonight,' you said. Not for you.”
On his knees beside her, he removed his weapons, tossing them aside as he held her gaze. He loosened the leather about his waist, and his trousers sagged, barely skimming his hipbones. Her fingers twitched to tug that cloth away so she could trace the ridges of muscle with her tongue.
“So I did. Tonight is our first night.”
Her tongue felt swollen, her mouth as dry as the desert at noon. She remembered his back shaking, the strain in his face as he’d refused her advances. “I don’t understand.”
His eyes glowed in the shadows of the tent, the air vibrating with heat and rising flames. “My very good friend beat some sense into me and called me a fool. He was right. You’re mine, azharana. Forever.”
“Your brother...”
His face flashed to granite, hard and grim and full of death. “I will handle him when we arrive at the Wall.”
She sucked in her breath, determined to refuse him and spare him such pain. She knew the cost of challenging a family bond, even one as twisted as hers. “No. I won’t come between you and your brother.”
His mouth quirked. Standing, he padded about his tent, retrieving bowls and the dreaded vial of oil. “I see.”
“My own brother is a nightmare. I care about you too much to ask you to fight him off, and I certainly won’t come between you and your family.”
Silence was his response as he returned and sat cross legged on the mats. Wary, she eyed the vial that had burned so fiercely, before.
She decided a harsher tactic was needed. “I need a man so frightening and strong that my brother won’t come after me. I need your azi, your king. Darius will respect such a title.”
Still nothing. No, worse, the nearly naked warrior hummed as he meticulously washed with that ridiculous scrap of material.
“My brother has flayed people alive. He murdered an entire family including a three-year old child to take his Throne. He revels in blood, pain and death, and he would like nothing better than to hunt me down and torture me for the rest of my life. Do you understand? I need someone as terrible as he is to scare him away!”
Unconcerned, Zahak held out the cloth. “I have wounds. Will you tend them?”
Surprised and awkward, she let her gaze run over his lean body. The wound on his shoulder was ugly but not bad, no longer bleeding. Trailing her gaze downward, she noted the ridges of muscle down his abdomen, the narrowness of his hips, back up to his other shoulder, so broad, his powerful arms. He bore no other injuries except the fresh slash on his cheek.
She took the cloth from him, fingers trembling. Molten rock slid through her veins, cresting at the smoldering look in his eyes.
The scent of jasmine oil filled her nose. He poured some of the warming oil onto a small bowl set before him. “The oil will help clean and cauterize the wounds.”
She stared stupidly at the jagged cut on his shoulder. Heat flared on her face at the memory of her mouth to that wound, the fresh blood flowing into her, stirring fire and heat in her veins. Something she’d always associated with darkness and torture had come to mean something entirely different to her: need, hunger, longing, desire.
Blessed Lady help her, she wanted to taste his blood again. Carefully, she pressed the cloth to his flesh and his breath hissed out. “I'm sorry.”
“It’s not the wound, but the Fire blazing within me. May Somma let me feel it each time you touch me.”
She sat back on her heels. Her arguments and logical refusals meant nothing to him. How could she undo the damage she’d already wrought? “For once in my life, I’m trying very hard to do the right thing. I refuse you. I refuse to cause trouble with your brother.”
“Do you know why they call me saif?” His voice was light, soft, but a hard glint in his eyes warned her. “I’m the doer of dirty deeds. I do
all the terrible things my brother, as tal, refuses or simply cannot do. I’ve shielded him my entire life. I’m the oldest son and my father tal before me. I should have taken the leadership role, but I refused it, determined my younger brother should have it. He’s not dra’gwar, you see. He’s not cursed like me. So I went about ensuring he never had to see how truly dark and dirty some deeds of leadership were.”
Fine shivers raced down her spine. His voice was so soft and gentle, even while speaking of those dirty deeds. “He’s tal in name only.”
“I kill so my brother doesn’t have to. How do you feel about that, azharana? Do you look at me and see a murderer? A filthy jackal feeding on corpses?”
“No.” She let the tears fall, tears she would have refused her own brother. Zahak deserved her sympathy, her grief for him and the harshness of his life. “I see a man of honor.” Truth, he deserved the full truth, so she forced the rest of her feelings out loud. “I see a man I could love.”
The sudden smile on his face stole her breath. He caught her tears on his fingers and carefully licked the moisture away. “That is why you’re mine, azharana. And that is why it will be my great honor to kill your brother and protect you from any and all who threaten you.”
He cupped her cheek and gently smoothed the pad of his thumb over her mouth. Some of that damnable oil must have coated his hand because flames licked at her tender lip.
“When you kissed me, I was afraid. I was afraid I would love you more than anything in this world. I was right. Do you refuse me now?”
“One last question,” she breathed, her heart racing. “You’ve hated being a dragon warrior all these years, so much that you refused your heritage for your brother. What has changed?”
“You changed me. You took my blood and survived. You took the Fire burning my heart and survived. You’ve given me hope that there’s more than killing and Fire for me, hope I can share with other dra’gwar.”
Solemn, he stared into her eyes, the flames shadowing his gaze. “I will not lie, azharana. The Last Days come. Agni will Burn the world and kill us all. Until then, I will take every precious night with you that the Gods allow, if you’re willing to take the risk. Taking you as my dra’gwar mate is dangerous. I need...”
Flames flared in his eyes, dancing about him so hotly she felt sweat slicking hair to her face and neck. “What do you need?”
“I need you. I need your blood.”
* * *
This was the final test. Zahak watched her reaction, his heart thumping in his chest so loudly he could hear it.
Eleni held out her arm, and his heart skipped a beat. “Of course, take what you need.”
Flames roared so high within him that his vision was tinged with red. Sweat trickled down his chest, his back, his face, burning his eyes. His skin felt tight and cooked, ready to split and allow the dragon to fly free. So close. If he was wrong, if she couldn’t tame his beast, he would kill her. Closing his eyes, he fought back the horrible memory of his father ripping his mother apart. “A simple wound won’t do. I need...”
Eleni laid her hand against his face and he wanted to weep. “What is it? What can I do to help you?”
Opening his eyes, he stared into her shining gaze and felt his heart swell with love. “I need to mark you. I need to bite you, hard, my teeth and Fire inside you even while I take your body. As I said, mating a dra’gwar is no easy feat, azharana. I...”
He swallowed hard, trembling when she leaned closer to him, her brilliant eyes locked on his face.
“I could kill you. I’ve seen it happen before.”
“No.”
Agony splintered in his mind. The dragon screeched, wings beating frantically in his skull. He fisted his hand in his hair, determined to hack it all off, every last strand, until no sign of honor remained. If she could not love him, he had nothing.
Her fingers wrapped around his, working his hand loose from his hair. “You won’t kill me. You won’t hurt me. I know it.”
Sagging, he fought to keep the beast trapped within his skin. “How do you know? How can you trust me?” When I don’t trust myself?
“You might be the doer of dirty deeds, but you blaze with Fire at the same time. You still shine against the Shadow. You fight for your people.” Her fingers traced down his neck, sliding down his shoulder, his chest. “No one has ever touched me as gently and tenderly as you.”
“A travesty, then,” he whispered. The thought of anyone hurting her made his dragon scream with rage. Silently, he swore to give her as much tenderness as possible in this grim, harsh life. How long he could shield her, though, he didn’t know.
“No,” she growled. Fisting her hand in his hair, she tugged sharply. “I don’t want you to shield me. I don’t need the saif. I need you. All of you.”
A small smile quirked his lips. His Bright Eyes was certainly forceful when she needed to be.
She slid into his lap and loosened her grip on his hair enough to comb her fingers through it. “Why is your hair short when your warriors wear theirs in a long braid down their backs?”
Grief seized his heart in dragon talons. “Warriors show their honor by the length of their hair. When my father transformed into a dragon and killed my mother, I swore to never grow my hair past my shoulders.”
Tears filled her eyes making them gleam like the luminous moon. “You have more honor than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“All these years, I blamed myself. I failed to shield my mother, and I hated my father. Malum reminded me that you have already done what she could not. You, azharana, have taught me true honor and courage by the light shining in your eyes. I have hope for the first time in my grim life that I will not become a mindless beast. As my bonded dra’gwar mate, you can anchor me. Hearts and minds united, when one dies, the other does too, for we cannot bear to live alone. The blood I gave you started the bond.”
Dropping her gaze, she twirled a strand of his hair about her fingers. “And now you’ll complete the bond?” Her breathing was shallow and quick, and she couldn’t meet his gaze. “You’ll take my blood?”
“If you’ll allow me.”Zahak stroked his fingers down her back, tracing the curvature of her spine. “Only if you want me to.”
Playing with his hair, she was uneasy, unsure, and he didn’t know why. “You’ll know my thoughts. My secrets.”
Ah. She didn’t ask, but he felt compelled to confirm her fears anyway. “Iyeh. As you hear my innermost thoughts, I would hear yours. We would be true dra’gwar mates, hearts beating as one, united unto death.”
Silence met his response. Sick at heart, he thought it rather ironic that he had finally chosen to admit his feelings for her despite the trouble it would cause with his brother, and now, she refused him. She couldn’t accept him.
“That’s not it,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Confused, he tipped her chin up to raise her gaze to his. Her bright eyes glowed, hard and furious as polished steel. “My brother is in my head. I can’t close my eyes and sleep without him walking in my thoughts. I would expose you to his Shadow.”
“Good.” Deliberately, Zahak allowed the face of the saif to harden his features. “It will make it easier to kill him.”
She started, her eyes flaring wider, her mouth sagging open. He couldn’t refuse such a temptation and closed his mouth over hers.
Flames exploded in him, searing intensity stealing his breath. For a moment, he feared they would both burn up in the inferno. He tightened his hands on her, fighting to keep the talons caged within his body instead of sheathed in her tender flesh. Wings thundered in his head, stretching his body impossibly, straining with every beat of his heart to burst forth. He feared for her, imagining her delicate throat in his teeth, his powerful body mauling hers.
:This is a mistake. I cannot risk you.:
Instead of pulling away or shrinking with fear, Eleni slid her tongue into his mouth and wrapped her legs about his waist. Sands swallow him, the dragon damned
near rolled over on its back and purred. It settled more comfortably in his body, allowing the wash of flames without the raging struggle for freedom.
Against his mouth, she whispered, “Make me yours, Zahak. Whatever it takes.”
Hands shaking, he pulled the shirt up over her head and threw it aside. The trousers were harder to wrestle off her because he didn’t want to peel her away from his waist. His were easier. Eyes soft and glazed with need, she started to lie back on the rug, but he pulled her back into his lap.
“Position is very important.” Her flesh felt so cool against his blazing dragon heat, a precious oasis he would die to keep safe. “We mate like dragons, azharana. You chose to come to me like this, two dragons wrapped together, mating in a death spiral. So be it.”
“Death spiral?”
He fisted his right hand in her hair and pulled her head back, baring her throat. The smooth, unmarred column gleamed like crystal sands in the morning sun. Not yet, he wouldn’t mark her yet. Nuzzling her neck, breathing in her sweet jasmine, he slid his other hand down her belly to stoke her desire higher. She clenched around him, moaning deep in her throat, and he tightened his teeth on her neck, fighting his beast.
It would be so easy to slam into her tight, wet sheath and sink his teeth in her throat, slaking this hunger. But she was his azharana, a woman who deserved every tenderness he could muster. He could not bear to leave bruises in her tender flesh. Breathing hard, he forced himself to release her neck and stroke her gently, tormenting them both with the soft glide of his fingers.
To distract himself, he began describing a dragon mating. “Before letting a male mate her, the female makes him win the prize. Sometimes they fight for dominance and the male forces her into submission. Other times they choose the air, speed and freedom high above the punishing sands. Higher and higher they fly where the air is cool and thin, the acrid stench of poisoned sand is lessened, and the sight of our punishment is hidden below the clouds.
“If the male catches her, they might fight in the air, screeching, wings buffeting, talons slicing each other. The danger is very real, for if a wing is damaged in the fight, the dragon will crash to its death.”
The Fire Within Page 5