She tugged again, trying to free her wrists, but he didn’t dare let her touch him. Too afraid of what he’d do. His needs too dark—too twisted, and she was far too pure and innocent for one like him.
Take her. It’s what you want, but don’t trust her. Never trust any of them.
No! He yanked away and retreated to the other end of the elevator. Breathing hard, he fought to get himself under control.
“Reynner?”
He held out a hand to stop her approach. Shook his head. Blood pounded in his head, urging him to finish what he started, to take her here in the elevator.
No—no! She was good. Decent. She deserved better than him.
Gods, he had to save her from himself.
“Eve, I can’t....” He turned away, his fists balled so tight, so he wouldn’t tear a hole in their metal cage. “I can’t give you what you want, Eve. I’m not whole. I’m a fucking mess—damaged. I’d just hurt you.”
“Stop it!” She moved in front of him, her chest heaving. Her beautiful eyes flashed emerald fire. Passion. Anger. He tried not to look at her mouth, lush from his kisses.
“I don’t know the facts, but I do know you can’t help what happened to you....” She reached out to touch him but dropped her hand at the last minute. “I know there won’t be a happily-ever-after for me. I made peace with that a long time ago. But I’d hoped—” She broke off, inhaled a shaky breath.
He shouldn’t ask. But her answer became imperative. A lifeline. How much more twisted could he get? His mouth opened, the questions fell out. “What Eve? What did you hope for?”
Her lips trembled. She struggled with the words. “A moment—a moment of your time for me alone—to know I mean something to you.”
At her soft words, a deep ache and an intense longing seeped through him. Gods, he wanted her. Wanted to be inside her, wrapped around her and the beautiful dream she offered.
But everything was too fucked up, his life so screwed. And he had no one to blame but himself.
To stop from doing something insane, like promise her all sorts of things he could never hope to fulfill—not when his life would never be is own—he stabbed the button for the ground floor. Then he picked up her cell. The glass sported even more cracks. His own gut ripping open, he said, “I’m sorry, Eve. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
A long moment of silence passed before she spoke. Like the life in her had died. “Yes. I’m very sure you didn’t.”
And a heart he thought he no longer possessed shuddered in pain.
Chapter 16
Back at Exilum, and after speaking with Lucan, Reynner headed for the living room. As he entered, Eve glanced his way. Nothing showed on her face when she saw him. She turned back to stare through the window at the cascading waterfalls. He had to steel himself from walking over.
They’d arrived a few hours ago, and she still hadn’t spoken a word to him since that moment in the elevator.
He wasn’t good for her, didn’t she get that?
You can’t trust them. The whispers continued to torment him.
But one thing he understood about himself, if she’d gone on that date, he would have hurt the artist. He had to get her away from there, and the safest place from all the shit messing with his head was Exilum.
Footsteps sounded, and Lucan entered. Eve warily eyed the lead box he carried. Reynner couldn’t blame her for her apprehension. He certainly didn’t care for the way the parchment affected her.
Aerén, following Lucan, smiled at Eve and dropped onto the couch. Reynner realized one other person had joined them.
Northaen. The change in the male took Reynner by surprise. His once striking features though gaunt were harsh, as if hewn in granite. He appeared older and was a shell of the man Reynner once knew. His dark brown hair was longer now, and pulled back in a ponytail.
Losing his mate to the wars on their realm had taken its toll. Programmed only for vengeance, he’d become one of the most lethal warlords in Empyrea.
Northaen glanced at him and nodded. His pale green eyes shifting to Eve, he stopped. Reynner saw the first sign of life enter them.
Eve looked nothing like North’s mate, who’d been a statuesque blonde, but something about her had caught the warrior’s attention. Uncurling his clenched fist, Reynner crossed to her and introduced them. “Eve, this is Northaen of Kalasder. North, Eve Leighton.”
“Hello.” She slipped her hands into her jeans pockets. Reynner could feel her uneasiness. Since a handshake wasn’t their way of greeting, he shouldn’t worry, but still.
North bowed. “For what you do, you have my sword and eternal gratitude.”
A smidgen of relief crawled through Reynner. This had everything to do with putting Empyrea on its feet and ending the wars, not a sudden revival of sexual needs.
Then Eve smiled and pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m happy to help.”
Reynner didn’t care for the easy smile she gave North, or that the warrior was here because of her safety. But the reality was, even though Reynner could protect Eve well enough on his own, his life wasn’t his. With Inanna on his back, shit always fell when he least expected it.
“Eve.”
At the sound of Lucan’s voice, she inhaled sharply and her soft mouth tightened. Straightening her spine, she made her way over and knelt in front of the low table. Reynner followed and stood opposite her. Hopefully, the magic had settled and wouldn’t affect Eve again now that she’d touched it.
She reached into the box and lifted the lead cylinder. Her slender, scarred fingers trembled. Like a foggy cloud, her trepidation settled over her. She slowly uncapped the tube and eased out the scroll. Setting the container aside, she unrolled and flattened the ancient parchment on the wooden table. A low whoosh of breath left her. Her fists relaxed. Loose-limbed, she sat back on her heels.
Eve lifted her head. Green eyes smoldered, slumberous in their intensity and fixed on him. The light, intoxicating musk of female arousal drifted through the room.
Reynner froze. Oh, shit, no, no, no!
Across the room, North stiffened. His gaze swung to Eve then dropped to study his boots. Aerén stared at her in surprise. He shifted in his seat and leaned forward, bracing his arms on his thighs. Lucan went robot still beside her.
Dammit! Naturally, they would react to Eve’s tempting scent of arousal.
Reynner’s teeth gnashed down, knowing he was stuck because he couldn’t take her away until she revealed the Stone’s location.
Fury, utter possessiveness surging through him, he grasped Eve’s hand, pulled her to her feet, and headed for the open doorway. It was either that or toss all the bastards over the balcony.
He stopped just past the entrance, not prepared to risk her out on the railless terrace until he put in some damn barriers.
She slid her hands up his chest, bunching the fabric of his shirt.
“Eve,” he said in a sharp voice, trying to ignore his aroused body. “Look at me.”
She raised those limp green pools, and her sultry stare whacked him in the gut. A red tinge rode her tanned skin. Being this close to her, his cock hardened painfully.
“Breathe, Eve,” he rasped. “Slow and deep—come on, do it, fiyae.” He clasped both of her hands, stroked her skin with his thumbs, aware of the others watching them. The sound of someone cracking their knuckles echoed like a gunshot in the tense silence. A shudder racked Eve’s body. She sucked in a deep breath, then several more. She shook her head, and he saw her panic beneath the arousal. Her fear.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this would happen again.”
She snatched her hands back as if scalded, wrapped them around her waist, and gave him a bitter look then walked back inside.
His mouth tight, he followed her.
Why the hell would the scroll affect her this way when it never had with anyone before?
***
God, she hated Reynner right then. Her arousal hiked and tightened
her body. The longer she remained near the scroll, the worse it got. And the jerk would leave her to suffer.
Eve made her way back to the table, rubbing her arms when she wanted to tear off the clothes abrading her too sensitive skin. Her lips compressed, she kept her gaze focused on the scroll and dropped to her knees in front of the table. With shaking hands, she smoothed out the parchment again. The hum grew sharper.
Oh, God in Heaven. Why would you do this to me? She tried desperately to shut off the needs tormenting her.
She could never have a relationship with anyone because of her abilities, and now this artifact would torture her. As if she hadn’t suffered enough.
A stronger tingle zipped through her. Desire lit like a fuse and heated her blood, gathering at her core—the throbbing there so intense. Clamping down on her sensitized, inner muscles only made her anguish worse.
Eve squeezed her eyes shut in despair.
You must fight for what you want. The light, almost musical notes floated through her mind and warmed her.
Her eyes flashed open to stare into troubled indigo ones. Reynner had taken the spot across the wide tree-trunk coffee table again.
Fight for what I want? Right. A bitter laugh strangled in her throat. She might as well scale the Himalayas. She’d have more success than breaking through the walls of the man crouched opposite her. After that devastating kiss yesterday, he’d reverted back to his cold aloof self, enclosed in his fortress.
“Hold this over the script.” Lucan’s voice pulled her out of her despairing thoughts. He held out a small rod-shaped crystal suspended from a fine silver chain.
Eve stared at the pendant. Her hands hummed, almost like they were plugged into a low voltage unit. She flexed her fingers to ease the tingles. “No.”
“What’s wrong?” Reynner asked her.
Eve shook her head, took a deep breath, and let instinct guide her. She held her palms over the ancient writings. “It responded to me this way before, maybe it will again.”
She closed her eyes, tried to concentrate. But it didn’t help. Her misery made her angry…her thoughts became hazy. Whispers rolled through her mind… Stone of Light… blood… magic… her heart rate accelerated as the answer came to her. Her eyes snapped open.
“I need a dagger.”
Three steel blades flashed before her. Eve jerked back in alarm and almost fell on her backside, but Reynner grabbed her upper arm. Like match to tinder, his touch sent tingles straight between her legs and the throbbing started in earnest. Oh, God! She tried to yank free, but his grip tightened.
“Why do you need a weapon?”
Did he think she’d hold a blade to his throat and jump him? She cut him a cold look. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”
“Let her do what she must,” Lucan bit out.
Reynner ignored him, but whatever he saw in her eyes made him release her. She hoped it was the look of his imminent death and not desperation. His dagger took form in his hand, and he handed it to her.
Eve gripped the heavy blade and frowned. She became aware of Lucan, along with the others, shifting away from her. Even Aerén. He leaned back in his seat, looking wary. The tension in the room heightened. They were all so still, almost as if they weren’t breathing.
Reynner, hunkered opposite her, looked like he wanted to kill something—or someone. She had no idea what had set him off since he’d worn that expression from the moment they arrived in Exilum.
The sooner she got this done, the sooner she could leave. Her mouth flattening, she ran the lethal edge of the blade across her finger. The sudden, painful slice stung. She winced.
Reynner snatched the dagger from her. “What the hell are you doing?”
“It’s all about blood, isn’t it?” She watched her blood seep out then she held her finger over the parchment. The sounds of booted feet drew nearer again, and the men surrounded her.
A deep red globule formed on the tip of her finger and splashed down.
Like a parched land, the scroll greedily absorbed her blood. Eve watched, waited for all this to end while her needs hiked to new levels. The urge to stroke herself, to find some release, grew. She bit down on her lip, the coppery taste of blood coated her tongue.
Oh, God, please let this be over, she begged.
And her finger burned like hell. Reynner grasped her hand, then his mouth closed over the cut. His tongue stroked the small wound. Eve stifled a gasp, her heart in her throat. Arousal burned deeper at each lap of his tongue, pushing her to the edge.
She yanked her finger free and grasped the table with both hands, breathing hard.
Seconds later, something moved—the script, written in black ink, took on a red hue. Sharp, indrawn breaths rang through the room. Then absolute and utter silence as the ancient writings stirred and whirled around the parchment in dizzying speed, like they’d been jacked with adrenaline, to rearrange themselves in a language she couldn’t understand.
When no one spoke, she glanced at Reynner. “What does it say? Does it tell you where the Stone is?”
He didn’t answer as he rose to his feet.
Eve bit her lip in desperation, the fresh wound there made her wince. Since no one bothered to answer her, she pushed up and glanced at Reynner, who glared at Lucan.
He didn’t even seem aware of her. Why would he care now? He’d finally gotten what he wanted, the location of the Stone. She no longer mattered.
On trembling limbs, she forced herself to walk out from the room.
In the corridor, she braced a palm on the wall and drew in a harsh breath. But nothing helped. She bit back a moan. Her skin was stretched so tight over her bones, she was afraid she’d shatter at a single touch.
Was there no escape from this savage need gnawing at her? Worse, she couldn’t even leave, trapped in this mountaintop aerie.
“Eve?”
No-no! She pivoted as Aerén approached. If he touched her, she dreaded to think what could happen. “Stay away from me.”
“You’re hurting.”
“Aerén, please, just go.” She sucked in another breath, but nothing would ease her humming body. Her sensitive nipples brushing against her shirt became unbearable. She wrapped her arms around her chest and pressed down. “Why–why aren’t you with them? Isn’t this what you waited for?”
“Yes, but they don’t need me. Let me aid you.” Cautiously, he approached her as if afraid she’d jump off the balcony. She saw the concern on his face and something else, too…desire? The truth hit her like a punch in the belly. Oh, God, he knows.
“Go away, please.” Tears of humiliation blurring her vision, she hurried for the front entrance.
Cursing in his language, she heard Reynner’s name mentioned, then Aerén came after her. His was jaw set, but his light gray eyes were filled with empathy, too, as he put his arms around her and drew her close. Her body shuddered uncontrollably.
“Shhh…it’s okay...” He stroked her arms, her back. Then said quietly, “We’ll take this slow. I’m just sorry I’m not him.”
He bent his head, his lips brushed hers.
Her lungs seized in shock.
Guilt flooded her. His touch didn’t repel. It felt...good.
Soothing.
No! She struggled to deny him, all she thought of—the only one she wanted was—
He doesn’t want you.
Eve fisted Aerén’s shirt, tried to tamp down her arousal. But it was a lost cause. She could barely swallow past the painful lump in her throat, despair and unwanted desire sweeping through her as Aerén kissed her again…
Chapter 17
“What the hell does it mean? Go back to the start. What you seek is but a tale away?” Reynner snarled at Lucan, jabbing his finger toward the scroll.
Everything he’d endured and put Eve through, only to end up with the scroll giving them a fucking riddle.
Lucan frowned. “It’s never straightforward with scrolls and cryptic messages. Go back to the start, would suggest our realm, w
here it started, but I don’t think that’s it—it has to be the mortal one.”
“You mean New York?” Reynner snapped, trying to hold in his impatience, wanting to take Eve and get out of there. He was aware she’d left the room. Better she was outside then with these horny bastards.
“Yes. It makes sense,” Lucan agreed. “It’s where the scroll was awakened. The Stone will be close. Keep Eve safe while the search is in progress.”
“From what I learned before I left Empyrea, Darkreans are gathering in force on this realm,” Northaen said then. “Security is paramount. It’s why I’m here.”
“Yeah, fine. Fill me in later.” Reynner pivoted and his heart nearly stopped. The couch opposite where Eve had sat was vacant. With her in that tenuous state of arousal—the truth slammed him like a sledgehammer.
He wouldn’t fucking dare!
Anger exploded in a flare of power, couches and table crashing into the walls. The others jumped out of the way as Reynner tore out of the room, down the corridor. If Aerén touched her, then what Reynner had done to bring down Hell when he’d broken free of his prison would be child’s play.
***
Eve broke away from Aerén.
Why couldn’t she want him? He was sexy, gorgeous, and gentle. He’d be perfect to ease the savage need riding her. But the bitter truth was that Aerén couldn’t ease the pain of wanting someone else.
Reynner was too filled with hatred and a darkness that sucked out every facet of emotion in him. His mind focused only on his quest and killing demoniis. Despite the sting of his rejection, she couldn’t change how she felt. And she really, really wished she could.
“Eve?”
She looked up. Her breath hitched, her body too jittery to calm down. Aerén stroked her cheek, his silver eyes bright with compassion and desire. “Let’s get out—”
A furious draft of wind flashed past them and snatched her away from Aerén, making her head spin. Eve stumbled and braced a hand on the wall to steady herself. A loud thud echoed in the hallway, followed by a body hitting something hard. A clay pot crashed to the floor. Soil scattered, dislodging a small, leafy plant.
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