Avery (Random Romance)

by Charlotte McConaghy

  ‘Hold still,’ he ordered me, and then, with a motion of his hand, he sent a sensation through me that was so strange it stole the breath from my lungs. Every inch of my skin tingled with a kind of pleasure pain, and suddenly all my injuries – every single one – was gone. The absence of pain was an abrupt shock to my body, such disbelief, wonder and bone-deep relief that I almost sagged to the ground. Instead of exhaustion, I now felt completely rejuvenated, and I realised just how much pain I’d been ignoring over the last few days.

  ‘That energy won’t last long – you remain a half-walker,’ he warned. ‘But your injuries are healed.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I managed to utter.

  ‘You are welcome.’

  ‘Why don’t you heal the others? Their faces.’

  ‘They wear the marks of their torture to remind them of their strength. Go now.’

  I turned to leave, pausing only to tell him, ‘You’re wrong about Ambrose. He’s not weak. He’s just young and frightened, but he’ll prove himself.’

  ‘Don’t trust him, Ava,’ the warder warned. ‘He is a murderer to his very core, and he will fail you. Ask him to tell you the truth. Ask him and you will see.’

  I followed Ambrose’s heavy, destructive footsteps where they passed through the jungle and emerged on the edge of the mountain cliff. His back was to me, and I saw him now with fresh eyes. The broadness of his shoulders and the ridges of muscle down his back and arms made a different kind of sense now that I knew what he could do with them. He was shivering with adrenalin – ready to burst, ready to fight.

  Ambrose had killed two warders with those big hands of his, which was the worst kind of crime anyone could commit. Yet now, I thought, horrifying myself with the realisation, I wanted those hands to touch me.

  ‘You can’t do that,’ I said.

  He didn’t turn. He didn’t move a muscle, making me realise he’d known I was watching him all along.

  ‘You can’t just attack people.’

  ‘I tried not to,’ he murmured, his voice flat. ‘I can’t help it. Hating those things is wired in my blood – it’s instinctive.’

  ‘And wrong.’

  ‘Do you know how many of my people I’ve watched them kill?’ He turned to face me, eyes flashing dangerously. All the pent-up energy of his attack was still simmering below the surface, and I knew he was spoiling for a fight. The violence in him was like a living, thriving thing. What was worse was that I was responding to it in a primal, instinctive way. My own blood started to quicken, and I felt my eyes darken.

  ‘Do you know how many of mine I’ve watched them save?’ I countered.

  A snarl erupted from his throat and before I knew it he’d advanced on me and forced me back against the rock wall. ‘Ava, you’re driving me mad!’ he growled, his breath hot on my face, his huge frame looming over me.

  ‘As you are me,’ I murmured truthfully. His eyes searched mine desperately, and Gods they were beautiful. I didn’t often let myself admit it, but they were the strangest, loveliest eyes I’d ever seen – simple and complicated at the same time.

  ‘What does black mean?’ he asked softly. There was barely any space between our bodies.

  ‘Guilt and shame,’ I told him, willing my voice steady.

  His finger moved to trace my jaw line. ‘And?’ he prompted, knowing.

  ‘And …’ I swallowed, closing my eyes for a moment, ‘desire.’

  He breathed out, sinking down to press himself along the length of me. My heart was beating so fast I thought it might give out. Ambrose tilted his head and pressed his lips, feather soft, against my neck. I shivered. Alarm bells screamed in my mind, but I ignored them, wanting him as desperately as I’d ever wanted anything. And wanting – simply wanting – was an exquisite pleasure I rarely experienced anymore. I started to ache, ache to have him touch me.

  His hand ran over my shoulder, then lightly, lightly brushed my breast, coming to stop on my waist. He drew me closer, kissing my neck and jaw.

  ‘You’re destroying me,’ he whispered into my ear. I closed my eyes, and my own hands went hesitantly to his hair. It was short and spiky, and the feel of it under my fingertips was thrilling. I’d wanted to run my hands over his hair a million times. I took his jaw and moved his face so that I could look straight into his eyes.

  I’d only ever kissed one man in my life, and I’d never wanted to kiss another. Not once, until now. Until this moment, wanting Ambrose’s lips on my own. I didn’t know how to ignore him anymore, ignore what I wanted from him. It had snuck up on me, and I didn’t know where it had come from, or why it was here – but it was clear. Just as my body had allowed me to experience taste again, it now seemed convinced that it was time I experienced desire. He saw it, saw my eyes go to his mouth, so he leant down and he did exactly what I wanted. The kiss was slow and startling – my mouth opened under his and the kiss grew deeper, more intense. His tongue brushed mine, one of his hands was in my hair, the other pressing the small of my back into his body. A sigh left me and it made him groan with desire. He tasted delicious; I could feel every nerve ending in my tongue as it explored him.

  When he pulled away my lips tingled and felt his absence too keenly. ‘Ambrose …’ I whispered.

  He brushed my hair behind my ear, and then he asked, changing the world, ‘What does gold mean?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What does it mean when your eyes go gold?’

  I stared at him, feeling my whole body freeze in shock. All the desire fled me, leaving me sick. He dropped his hands to his sides. ‘Ava, what?’

  And that’s when I saw the gold in his eyes too – just a flicker of it, a glow passing through the pale blue gaze. Impossible. I brushed past him and ran as fast as I could, not knowing if I’d ever be able to stop.

  Chapter 12

  Roselyn

  I found Thorne in our washroom, scrubbing furiously at his hands. There was a crazed expression in his eyes and it frightened me. I went to his side and took the scrubbing brush from his hands, and he started at my presence. After a moment his shoulders sagged and he allowed himself be led to the bathtub. He was covered from head to toe in blood, and he was shaking.

  I undressed him, pulling his shirt over his head and then letting his breeches fall to the floor. I’d had the bath filled already so I moved him straight into the scalding hot water. As quickly as I could, I scrubbed all the blood from his skin, lathering him up with soap and working until his skin was pink and clean.

  ‘There,’ I murmured, resting my hands briefly on his shoulders. He usually liked to be alone while he bathed, so I stood to leave, but he took hold of my hand and stopped me.

  ‘Rose,’ he murmured, almost panicked. ‘Stay.’

  Startled, I hesitated a moment, then sat on a stool beside him.

  ‘Do you know why I don’t allow you up there, in that room?’ he asked. I drew in a breath, certain that I was to be punished again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I tried quickly but he shook his head.

  ‘Do you know why?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It’s to protect you from what’s in there. What happens in there.’ He stared at me, and I couldn’t read what was in his eyes. ‘I’m a monster,’ he said softly, eerily. ‘And the truth is I’ve never wanted you to see me like that.’

  My mouth fell open slightly. I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Did you see how many people I killed tonight?’ he whispered. ‘So many – and I enjoyed it. But I don’t think … I don’t think it was right, was it?’

  I felt my heart stop. He asked my opinions on lots of things, but never this. Never anything to do with this. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t think it was.’

  Thorne closed his eyes and sank into the tub, resting his head against the side. ‘She wants me to be like this. She can use me when I’m like this.’

  For a moment I actually thought that this had to be a dream, because it couldn’t possibly be real. Thorne, the most painfully loyal m
an in the world, was speaking against his ma – the very person his life revolved around, the one person he’d been born needing to please. Everything that he was, he’d become because he was so desperately afraid of disappointing his queen.

  ‘Did you know I was a monster?’ he asked, opening his eyes. I didn’t say anything, so he nodded slightly. ‘Of course you did.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Don’t lie, Rose.’

  ‘I’m not. I barely know how. You hate the worst parts of yourself so much more than you could ever hate another human being. And that’s not monstrous at all, Thorne.’

  He swallowed. ‘Did you know she was making me like this?’

  I frowned, confused by the question. ‘Yes, of course. She tries to make everyone like her. It is how she rules. Cruelty and violence and fear. You are her greatest weapon, Thorne. The strongest, fiercest weapon she could ever find, and you happen to have berserker blood in you.’

  He blinked, sitting up a little. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I … it is only a guess. I know nothing for sure …’

  ‘Tell me what you think.’

  ‘I think she bred with a berserker to create a weapon she would be able to manipulate.’

  He stared at me, his beautiful blue eyes shadowed, the truth of it dawning on him. ‘Why have you never spoken to me of this before?’

  ‘I did not think it would be of interest to you.’

  Thorne closed his mouth with a snap. He passed a shaking hand over his eyes. He seemed to think about what I’d said for a very long time. ‘What does it matter?’ he asked eventually, and now he was hollow. The empty anger was back in his bones. ‘It makes no difference why I am what I am. I’m hers to do with as she wills. She is the Queen, I am her weapon. I’ve always accepted it – why should anything change now?’

  ‘You don’t feel … cheated?’ I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

  ‘It’s not my place to feel anything,’ he answered, and I felt the bright spark of hope instantly flicker out.

  At least, that’s what I thought. Until he reached out and pulled me gently, tenderly and fully clothed into the tub with him. I gasped as the water hit me, panic exploding in my chest. But his hands were moving quickly, undressing me and dropping the sopping wet clothes onto the floor, and every second that my body lay against his was a second in which I forgot to fear the water. He gathered me into the circle of his arms, and he kissed me on the lips, and I was so surprised and thrilled that I forgot to breathe and forgot to panic and forgot to be afraid. If he wanted me, it was usually at night when we were in bed, and it was without kissing. He very rarely kissed me, except to make a point of it.

  But now, now he kissed me like his lungs were broken, like if he stopped he’d die, and I felt as though maybe, just for the shortest of moments as our lips touched, maybe I was finally being allowed inside him, just as he inhabited me. As though maybe he was giving me a glimpse of himself, of the Thorne that lay beneath.

  It filled me up, and I knew I’d be able to live off this one moment for a very long time. Unable to help myself, I reached out and held him, running my fingers over his short hair. There was something I needed to tell him. If he could understand this one thing, I truly believed he would be okay, and it didn’t matter if he got angry and punished me for saying it. It didn’t matter if this perfect moment was ruined, because it mattered, this one thing I had to say. It mattered the most of all.

  ‘Thorne,’ I said, looking deep into his eyes. His hands cupped my face and he waited. ‘You deserve a life you shape for yourself.’

  And as he stared back at me, I started to understand that maybe things would be okay for us, one day. He didn’t punish me, or get angry – he simply stroked my cheek with his thumb, and then kissed me again.

  Thorne

  My sleep was feverish that night. I tossed and turned, unable to calm down, my body wracked with a sense of desperation. I felt trapped and contained in ways I’d never known. At one point, very late, when poor Roselyn had finally managed to drift off to sleep, I sat bolt upright, my skin crawling. There in the corner of the room, wreathed in shadows, skin glowing with a sickly pallor, was a man. I felt my heart slam out of beat, sending a wave of shock through me. I knew this man – knew him very well. It was the black-haired Kayan, and his eyes glowed golden in the darkness as they looked right inside of me. I’d never known fear, until I saw his ghost in my bedchamber.

  ‘A prince at the top of the world has a very long way to fall,’ he told me softly. He had a kind face, a gentle face. Even as he stood there in the darkness, he didn’t seem angry with me – he seemed concerned. ‘Every time you hurt someone, Thorne, you fall a little further.’

  I took a breath and shook my head. ‘I cement my power by proving my strength.’

  ‘You’re very foolish,’ he said sadly. ‘Listen to me, or your chance at redemption will fade.’

  I closed my eyes, willing him to disappear. He didn’t. He walked a few steps closer, his shoulders square as they’d been before I’d helped kill him. I’d never seen a Kayan with such black hair.

  ‘Blood may be easy to wash from your skin,’ he said clearly, heavily, ‘but it stains your soul, Prince Thorne.’

  And then he was gone.

  Ambrose

  I didn’t sleep a wink. She was under my skin. It was real, all of a sudden. She’d never wanted me back until today. She’d been so remote, so full of anger and hate, until now, until this new side of her. Could I be enough for what I’d awakened? It seemed impossible, given all of my failings. It also seemed impossible not to try.

  I rose with the sun, unable to stand her closeness any longer. I climbed over my balcony and swung down onto hers. She was sitting inside the window, wrapped in the linen from her bed. I stopped, staring. Her hair was tousled and her golden skin glowed under the sun’s rays. She looked unspeakably sexy – and healthier than she had in all the time I’d known her, her body rid of all the marks of my violence.

  ‘Open the window,’ I told her.

  Mutely, she shook her head.

  ‘Ava,’ I snapped, ‘stop this – we have to talk.’

  ‘Go away.’

  ‘I can’t stand it anymore,’ I told her through the glass. ‘You’ve a beating heart in your chest, and it’s strong. Don’t you understand? It’s not ruined – you’re not ruined. Do you know how I know?’

  She didn’t say anything, but I could see the flecks of gold in her eyes, and wanted desperately to know what they meant. ‘I know because I can feel the rhythm of it beating in my own chest,’ I told her. I closed my eyes, running my hands over my head and groaning. ‘Gods, I don’t know how I can feel it, and it’s freaking me out, but I know I can.’

  I didn’t know what to say after that. She wasn’t responding, she was just so still.

  ‘Open the damn window before I smash it in.’

  Finally after what felt an age she unlocked the window and murmured, very simply, ‘Gold is the bond colour.’

  And just like that, my life – my whole world – changed. Everything I knew changed, because I understood all at once that I had fallen in love with and become bonded to a Kayan woman. Our lives were irreversibly entwined for all the days and hours and minutes we had left. I would die when she died.

  Which meant that there was no way for my brother to love me anymore. No way for me to return to the life I’d once had. It was all over now. Everything I’d ever known.

  ‘I don’t want this, Ambrose,’ she said bluntly. ‘I can’t have it. Bonding twice is … it’s sick – it’s an abomination. Once hurt enough, but twice … it’s a betrayal. An ending.’

  ‘No,’ I growled, overwhelmed and terrified. ‘It’s a beginning. You’re just too set on killing yourself to admit it.’ I paced the room. ‘I’ve always thought you were courageous, Ave, but you know what? You’re the worst kind of coward.’

  ‘Stop, Ambrose!’ she snapped, rising to her feet in a flurry of anger. ‘You’ve
got no idea what you’re talking about! Get out of my room and leave me be!’

  ‘Don’t be an idiot,’ I barked. ‘You’ve made my eyes change colour and you expect me to leave you be?’

  ‘Do you enjoy torturing me?’ she yelled. ‘You think you love me, but you have no idea what love is.’

  ‘That’s bullshit,’ I snarled. ‘You walk around with this idyllic idea of the perfect relationship, where everything is happy and easy, but that isn’t real! It’s just a suit of armour that you wear and you refuse to take it off. Don’t you feel this?’ I strode towards her and took her by the arms, shaking her a little. ‘I know you do. It’s messy and yes – it hurts – but it’s real. There’s no running away from it.’

  She opened her mouth to argue, but I kissed her – angrily, roughly – and I knew it would hurt her, but I didn’t care because I wanted her to hurt as much as I did. She bristled, all fire and rage, and then she spat in my face, just as she had when first we met. I stared at her and could almost have laughed if I hadn’t been so furious.

  ‘Go ahead,’ she hissed. ‘Hit me. I know you want to.’

  My hands shook as I gripped her arms and shoved her to the bed. I climbed on top of her, pinning her down, feeling both our hearts race. The sensation of two beats in my chest was dizzying. She put her hands on my shoulders as if to hold me off, but I realised she was clutching onto me. There was only a thin sheet of linen between her naked body and me, and the realisation was like to set me on fire.

  I leant towards her again, our eyes locked in a silent battle. She struggled, but I took both her wrists in one hand and held them above her head, then I placed my other hand over her neck. She was breathing quickly, her eyes wide and changing between black and gold, over and over like they couldn’t hold to one colour. I leant my lips down to her jaw, felt her trembling beneath me.

  ‘Feel that?’ I whispered, laying my hand over her beating heart so the rhythm of it played into my palm. ‘That’s one strong heartbeat, kid. You’re alive and you want me. And, Ava, it’s allowed – you’re allowed to want me.’