Needed him to quench this fire he had ignited in her.
Calindria lost herself to sensation, a slave to the hunger running through her, to the instincts that hijacked control and had her dropping one hand to the front of his leathers. He groaned and rocked against her palm as she cupped him, ripping a moan from her lips. She wanted this, needed him, and she was going to have him.
He stilled and she sensed a change in him, a warning bell ringing in her mind as he tried to stop kissing her. She didn’t let him. They had started this and they were going to finish it. She shifted her hand from his trousers to the side of her shorts, her fingers trembling as she untied the lacing on one side and then the other, heart racing as she let the material fall away from her.
Thanatos was too busy kissing her again to notice what she was doing.
But gods, he definitely noticed it when she seized his hand and brought it to her mound.
He went deathly still, the growl that erupted from his lips echoing around the cavern and sending a thousand tingles cascading through her.
She froze too as he gathered himself, as he moved his hand and slipped his fingers between her folds, teasing her slick flesh. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned into his mouth, couldn’t hold it back as he explored her. Sweet gods. She bit her lip, sinking her teeth into it but not feeling the pain as pleasure rolled through her, slowly built inside her with each stroke of his fingers.
Her thoughts blurred into nothing, sensation replacing them, a yearning to find the release his touch promised and a constant stretch for that bliss he held just beyond her reach.
She rocked against his hand, unable to stop herself from moving, seeking that final push she needed.
Her eyes shot wide open as he pressed her knees further apart, as he pulled her closer and then replaced his fingers with something else. She shivered and moaned as he stroked the blunt head of his length down her, as he gripped her backside and lifted her.
As he pressed inside her.
She cried out as he filled her in one possessive, claiming thrust.
Her breath caught in her throat, the pain intense as he stretched her, but it was swift to subside as he clutched her and began moving her up and down his shaft, pumping her hard as he kissed her. Dominating her.
“Oh gods.” Those words burst from her lips, torn from her as he plunged deeper, as he took all of her, leaving no part of her untouched.
Intense pleasure blasted through her with each meeting of their bodies, skittering over her flesh, taking her out of her mind. He groaned and thrust deeper, possessing her, and she shivered and writhed, dug her fingers into his thick hair and clung to him, lost to sensation.
He pulled her closer still, plastered her chest to his and moved her faster. She moaned and moved on him, couldn’t stop herself from joining in as she reached for release, swore she could almost touch it.
It struck her out of nowhere, ripping a cry from her throat as it detonated inside her, as heat and tingles rushed through her and her body jerked, every inch of her quivering and throbbing. She couldn’t breathe as the intensity of it rocked her, as her mind blanked and she drifted in a haze as she sank back into the seat of the reclining chair.
That haze abruptly lifted as Thanatos pulled out of her and stood.
He stormed away from her.
She opened her eyes and stared at him as he paced, tucking his still-hard length away in his leather pants. Cold slowly swept over her, stealing away the warmth of her release as she realised he had given her pleasure but had taken none for himself. He cast her a black look, one that held a note of accusation and anger, and she shrank back as he bared his teeth at her and growled, an icy chill swift to fill her. What had she done wrong?
She must have done something to displease him.
There was only one thing she could think of as she stared at him, reeling from the look he had given her and how he held himself at a distance.
He had lied to her.
He had wanted that other female he had chased after but hadn’t been able to catch her, and so he had returned to Calindria unsatisfied and had decided to lie to her so he could satisfy himself with her instead.
Only she hadn’t been good enough for him.
She fumbled with her shorts, pulling them back on and tying the lacing, her hands shaking even though she told herself she didn’t care what Thanatos had done. She didn’t care about him at all. Her heart called her a liar. She bared fangs at it and locked it away in a cage, determined to never feel a thing for the god of death again. She’d had her taste of him and it had been bitter, just as she had expected.
She had been a fool to believe that things between them would be anything but painful.
Well, she was done with him. She was done with feeling anything where he was concerned. He could run off after that bitch for all she cared.
She stood and looked at Thanatos, tears burning the backs of her eyes. Damn him. Maybe he was right about some things.
Life was better when you were alone.
He looked across at her, his eyes meeting hers.
No one could hurt you then.
A wall of brambles and vines shot up between them, and in the split-second before they hid him from view, she saw his eyes widen in horror and sensed his fear.
Calindria turned on her heel and stormed away from him.
Chapter 17
Thanatos deserved the cold shoulder, along with the several instances of Calindria putting up walls of black vines to block his path to her. He hacked his way through another one she had constructed in a tunnel, this one thicker than the last, his senses trained on her and desperation mounting inside him as she began to reach the edge of them, where everything grew hazy thanks to this cursed realm.
He ripped at the vines with his bare hand and flinched as thorns grew wherever he touched, biting into his palm. Their master had every right to be furious with him after what he had done, and gods, he was angry with himself too, wished he hadn’t reacted the way he had, but the feel of her climax had hurled him deep into dark memories and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from pushing away from her.
“Bastard,” he muttered to himself and gripped his sword in both hands, hacking at another thick mass of vines.
It wasn’t a strong enough word for him.
He had thought he could handle it, that it had been long enough since the demigoddess had held him captive that he would have gotten over it. He had been wrong. No. Not entirely. It had been good, and he had been enjoying it, and gods, the fact that Calindria had given herself to him, had chosen him as the one to take her flower, had humbled him.
And also made him feel like a bastard.
In the throes of his passion, he hadn’t exactly been gentle with her.
But then, she hadn’t been gentle with him either. He was still healing the grooves she had scored on his shoulders and nape with her nails.
He broke his way through the wall of black vines and brambles and squeezed through the gap, flinching again as they snagged his wings and tore at his skin. He deserved this pain. He had been wrong after all.
He had been wrong to take her like that, when he should have been gentle with her, should have reined in his need enough to think clearly and realise she would be untouched.
“If Hades kills me, then I deserve it.” Although he wasn’t sure he would live to make it back to Hades for judgement of his sins.
Calindria glared back at him as he emerged from the tunnel on the other side of the mountain, looking close to killing him herself.
“I told you to leave me alone,” she barked.
He wasn’t surprised when vines shot up from the gritty black ground to twine around his legs, grimaced when they tightened and felt as if they might snap his bones like twigs.
She was getting good at controlling one power at least. He worried that she might get good at controlling the other one and prove him wrong about his theory that she couldn’t use it to harm him with a
“I told you that I am sorry.” He brought his blade down, carefully hacking at the vine so he didn’t cut his legs. It tightened further and he grimaced, his lips drawing back off his teeth as pain burned in his right tibia. His voice was strained as he uttered, “Calindria.”
She didn’t look back at him, but the vine did loosen.
Maybe there was hope for him after all.
How long could she hold on to this anger towards him? Gods, if it was as long as he deserved, then that would be forever. As it was, the two days she had been punishing him like this felt like an eternity. He didn’t want to imagine another two like this, let alone thousands and thousands of them.
He freed himself of the vine and started after her.
“You never told me why you were sorry.” She scowled over her shoulder at him, her eyes narrowing with the anger he could sense in her.
A wall of black vines shot up between them.
This time, it was only a few feet wide and he easily walked around it. He scanned the valley as he did so, keeping an eye out for danger. This one wasn’t empty. There were black trees fringing the edges of the valley and a wide fissure in the middle of it. A glow emanated from that fracture and he suspected that deep in the crack was a river of lava. It wasn’t the only one either. He spied a few more rivers snaking down the mountains, running into crevasses he couldn’t quite make out at this distance.
For what felt like the millionth time, Thanatos warred with himself. Calindria deserved an explanation, and part of him wanted to give her one, wanted to bare his soul to her and tell her of his past, but the rest of him kept him silent. He couldn’t tell her what had happened to him, how the demigoddess—the silver-haired female she had apparently seen too—had held him and abused him. He didn’t want her to know about the shameful things he had done when under the influence of the drugs they had fed him to break him.
So he just said, “Everything. I am sorry for everything.”
Calindria cast him a withering glare that said it wasn’t a good enough explanation for how he had treated her, and the part of him he didn’t want to listen to said to lie to her and tell her that he feared her father’s retribution and that was why he hadn’t defiled her with his seed.
He couldn’t lie to her though.
Would never lie to her.
She had spent too many years in this realm, being shown lies, being tricked. She deserved better from him. Gods, she deserved better than him.
He was under no illusion about that. When he got her back to her family, they would part ways. He would return to his castle and his solitary life where he belonged, and she would be with those who loved her.
His step faltered and he stared at her back.
Those who loved her.
He rubbed his eyes when they stung and misted, blamed the grit and the dry air. There was a breeze that constantly picked it up and swirled it at him and some must have gotten in his eyes.
She sighed softly, and for the first time since he had tried to ruin everything between them, he felt close to easing her anger, to making her see that he regretted what he had done and that he would try not to do it again.
If she would allow him to remain near her, he would be a better male.
He wanted to laugh at that.
He wasn’t sure he knew how to be a better male, or that he would get a choice in the matter if he was close to her again and his past hit him and filled his head with lies, making him feel she meant to steal something from him, that she was like the demigoddess. He couldn’t trust any female.
He continued to stare at her back.
That wasn’t true.
He could trust her.
Calindria had done nothing to hurt him, had accepted him when he had been the one to initiate things. She had let him be close to her, had given him something special, and he had been the one who had mistreated her.
“Calindria,” he started as he sheathed his sword and she looked back at him, actually slowed to a halt when she saw he had stopped and there was a great distance between them. “Rest a moment, so we can… talk?”
She looked as if she wanted to say no, but the longer she looked at him, the softer her expression grew, and he knew he was reaching her. Sweet relief washed through him as she turned towards him, as she began walking back to him. Every step closer she came to him, some of the tension cranking him tight inside melted away. Just her presence was enough to soothe him. What power she had over him.
“Talk about what?” She stopped close to him, so near he could reach out and touch her if he were brave enough.
He wasn’t. The thought of her rejecting him was too terrifying. Gods, how she made him weak, but at the same time he felt stronger just for knowing her, felt invincible whenever she looked into his eyes and there was warmth in hers, a shimmer of affection.
“Us.” He croaked that word, swallowed to wet his dry throat, and felt as if he was standing on a precipice and liable to fall, and only death awaited him in the abyss that surrounded him. He sighed and mustered the words, lined them up and checked them twice to make sure he wouldn’t say anything that would cause her further upset. “I am sorry. There are… things… in my past I am not ready to talk about yet. It influences me at times, alters my mood, and I have little control over it. I tend to… You were right about me. I do find it impossible to trust others.”
Her eyes gently leaped between his, her beautiful face softening further as a wealth of understanding dawned in them. “I find it hard, too… but I trust you, Thanatos. You’re the only person I have trusted in almost six centuries… so it hurt when you—”
Her lips flattened and the tears that lined her lashes cut at him, cleaving great gashes in his heart. He risked it, lifted his hand and smoothed his palm along her jaw to her nape and drew her to him. He lowered his head and pressed his brow to hers, let his eyes fall shut as he sighed.
“I am sorry.”
She nodded slightly, her forehead moving against his, and brought her hands up, pressing them to his bare chest. The feel of her palms against him was bliss, the warmth of her touch searing him, branding him with her name. She was the only female who could touch him like this without him growing agitated, without the darkness within him wanting to snarl and lash out to protect himself. Somehow, this strong, beautiful female was slowly taming that side of him.
Replacing fear of her touching him with a craving for her touch.
“I thought perhaps—” She cut herself off when her voice grew tight and he held back the urge to press her to continue, contented himself with holding her to him, feeling her close to him. She sighed. “It is silly… but I felt perhaps you had… lied to me. That you had wanted that female you chased and tried to satisfy your urges with me, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t good enough.”
Those final four words rushed from her, each a blade that embedded itself deep in his heart, cleaving right down to his soul.
Gods.
How wrong he had been.
He deserved more than death for making her feel that way, should be chained in Tartarus for all to whip and laugh at, to kill repeatedly for his sins.
“Never,” he whispered and brought his other hand up, wrapped her in it and then his wings, couldn’t stop himself from protectively curling them around her as she trembled against him, as he sensed her pain. “Gods, Calindria. The problem is quite the opposite. You are too good for me.”
She gave a tiny shake of her head.
He stroked her back, lifted his head and pressed his lips to her brow, lingering there as he breathed her in. “My life has been darkness… for so long now. I tried to protect myself… I pushed everyone away… I thought it was the right thing to do, but I was wrong. It did not make everything better. It only made it worse. It made me worse.”
He drew back and lowered his hand to her cheek, dropped it to her jaw and tilted her head up, so she was looking at him. His brow furrowed as he gazed down at her.
“You, Calindria, have brought light into my life again… but I am not cured of my past. Sometimes, I cannot control the way I react. It is ingrained in me.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “But know I will try. I will try to vanquish this dark beast within me… for you.”
Gods, he felt as if he had just torn open his ribcage to expose his heart to her, and now all he could do was wait to see whether she would destroy it or try to heal it.
“Do not do it for me,” she whispered, and he felt sure she was going to reach into his chest and squeeze his heart until it burst and all the light she had awoken in him died. She lifted her hands and framed his face, her blue gaze earnest. “Do it for yourself, Thanatos. Do it so you can move on and be happier.”
He thought perhaps to be happier you needed to be happy in the first place, but didn’t tell her that.
Mostly because as he gazed down at her, into those soft blue eyes that held affection even though it was him she was looking at, he realised that being around her, being close to her like this, made him happy. Perhaps that was the light she had created inside him, the one that chased back the gloom.
Happiness.
He frowned, feeling like a sentimental fool.
“You do not like your thoughts.” She smiled softly, a hint of amusement in it. “Here… I will give you something else to think about.”
She tiptoed and brushed her lips across his in the sweetest kiss he had ever had, one that reached right into his ribcage and seized his heart, but in a gentle grip that lifted him up, made him feel oddly light inside.
Vulnerable.
Thanatos held her closer, struggled to keep the kiss gentle and soft, wanting to experience more of this feeling only she could stir inside him. This warmth. He was a stranger to love, but if he had to put a name to it, he would call it the first seeds of that feeling.
She eased back, ending the kiss before he was ready, and he wanted to capture her lips again, but she looked around them. His wings blocked her view, but he couldn’t convince himself to unfurl them, not yet. He wanted to hold her like this a little longer.
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