Soulfire

by Juliette Cross

  I gasped, tears pricking behind my eyes. He knew where to hurt me most.

  “Am I making myself clear?”

  I gulped a breath of air and nodded. He hauled me through the crowd toward our table.

  “Now, put a smile on your face. The Nightwings want to offer their personal congratulations.”

  “No!”

  “What did you say to me?” Ice in his voice.

  I shook my head and bit my lip.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Father couldn’t understand the real reason I didn’t want to stand there and receive congratulations from the Nightwings. He only saw defiance. Never see Moira again? I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, managing to paste on a wooden smile. We drew near the table where Lucius stood in conversation with Aron. My heart plummeted into my stomach.

  Both men turned my way, one grinning, one not. Aron didn’t know as he clapped a friendly hand on Lucius’s shoulder that the Morgon man was a time-bomb of restrained fury, his face fixed in granite, anger brimming in his eyes.

  “There you are, sweetheart!”

  I winced.

  “I was telling Lucius here that we’ll let bygones be bygones after the misunderstanding at his club the other night.”

  I cringed at the sound of Lucius’s name on Aron’s lips. He didn’t have the right to speak his name. He was dirt beneath Lucius’s feet. Looking at them side-by-side, my mind tallied the differences. Physically, there was absolutely no comparison. A foot and a half shorter, Aron looked like a boy next to Lucius. But the arrogant slant of his mouth and the look of highborn superiority in his eyes aged Aron to a grotesque specimen of my father’s ilk.

  “Tell me,” Lucius began, his deep baritone rolling in a deceptive string of silky words. “When did you two become engaged? And when are we to celebrate this happy event?”

  I didn’t miss the cynical emphasis on happy. Aron did. He barreled ahead, oblivious to the stalking predator at his side. I gulped, lacing my fingers into a tight ball to keep from shaking.

  “Jessen and I have been betrothed for years, actually. We just finally made it official.”

  “Is that so?” The predator’s voice dipped to a growl.

  My chest rose and fell a bit faster. I focused on controlling my breathing.

  Aron looked back to the table where my mother and Mrs. Grayson were deep in conversation, probably making wedding plans. Bile rose into my throat.

  Aron shouted over at Mrs. Grayson. “Mother, when should we set the date?”

  “Oh, I think a spring wedding would be lovely, don’t you, Beatrice?”

  My mother nodded and smiled her perfect smile. “Absolutely. We can start shopping for the dress next week.”

  My pulse pounded so loud, I was sure everyone could hear it. The whole time, Lucius’s eyes never left mine, making me wish I was invisible, but something told me his burning gaze would always seek and find me.

  “Ah, the wedding gown,” said Aron, shifting closer to me. “Yes, you must shop early.” He wrapped a hand around my waist, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Be sure to buy something special for the wedding night.” His hand slipped to my hip and squeezed.

  I heard something pop from the fuming man across from me. His jaw? A bone in the clenched fist at his side? I wasn’t sure. Aron apparently didn’t know or care that Morgons had dragon hearing. I swallowed, but found my mouth bone-dry, trying to find the courage to face Lucius’s gaze. When I did, I found him fixated on Aron’s hand at my hip, and I was afraid he might actually blow flame to remove it.

  “Here we are. More champagne.” My father burst in on us, all cheery-as-shit. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I used the moment to move out of Aron’s hold.

  Moira sat at a table with her friend Krissa. They giggled together. Moira, sweet and innocent, laughed openly, oblivious to the war raging inside of me. To give up my sister or my heart?

  I grabbed the first champagne glass and gulped the whole thing down. Then grabbed another.

  “Slow down, sweetheart,” said Aron, wrapping a proprietary hand around my wrist. “You know how alcohol makes you.”

  I gave him a scathing look and knocked the second one back.

  “Yes,” interrupted Lucius. “Alcohol can make her a bit…unreasonable.”

  Aron shot him a look, most likely wondering how he could know such a thing. I pulled my wrist from Aron’s grasp to lean over and take a third glass of champagne from the table. My father still engaged Adicus, Lorian, and Demetrius in conversation.

  I edged closer to Lucius. “I’m only unreasonable when men try to manage me.”

  “Mmm.” Lucius glowered. “Perhaps the men in your life cannot abide defiance and lies. To you, it only appears unreasonable.”

  “I don’t lie.”

  An arched brow raised on his granite face. “I think that is a lie.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. I was a liar, but not in the way Lucius thought. I was standing there, an imposter, pretending I would tie myself to a man like Aron when I never could. Never would. I valued myself too much to betray my heart, my soul, in such a way.

  “Well then,”—came my father’s booming voice—“let us lift our glasses one more time to the happy couple.”

  Everyone else did. I didn’t. I could feel Aron’s eyes on me to my left. I didn’t give a shit. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from what I wanted most in the world. Lucius raised his glass, but didn’t drink, a mocking smile cracking his stony expression into something frightening. His eyes blazed with malevolence. I shook my head, pleading with him to understand. Apparently, he didn’t. With a last fiery glare, he turned on his heel and exited toward the gardens.

  I glanced over at Moira, who happened to look up at that exact moment. Her smile wilted, seeing the sadness in my eyes. I set my glass down, maneuvered around the table and pulled her out of her chair into a tight hug. The others probably thought it some female whim to hug a sister in celebration of the engagement. This embrace was far different. It was goodbye.

  “I love you,” I whispered into her ear.

  “I love you, too.” She pulled back, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She knew something was terribly wrong. “What is it?”

  I shook my head, forcing a smile, then pecked her on the cheek and ran for the garden door. Rushing, I tripped past the columns, down the stone steps, and onto the garden path. I searched for him in the sky.

  Nothing. A pall of gray clouds smothered the night in gloomy darkness, mirroring my emotions.

  He was gone.

  “Lucius.” Please, don’t be gone. Please don’t leave me. I looked up, wishing for a star, wishing Fate wouldn’t keep him. “Send him back again.” Tears scalded my cheeks.

  “You have got to be out of your mind.” I whirled to find Aron standing right behind me, eyes dark as pitch under the starless night. “A Morgon? A Nightwing!” He sneered down at me, gripping both arms. “You actually think you’re in love with that monster?”

  “Aron, let me go.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” His face and neck tightened with strain. Danger glinted in storm-shadowed eyes.

  “Let me go.” A primitive fear urged me to get away, escape. Fast.

  “I’m going to teach you who you belong to. Right now.”

  “Aron. Don’t—”

  He forced me to the ground, pinning me under his weight. “I’m going to make you mine.” Frightening words hissed in my ear.

  I struggled, punching, pushing. He pressed a fierce kiss to my lips, cutting mine with his teeth when I jerked my head away. He stilled. I pushed him farther off of me, watching him slide his tongue along the spot of crimson on his lip. He grinned.

  “It’s to be rough, is it? No problem. I prefer it that way.”

  He backhanded me hard across my cheekbone. My head snapped to the side, knocking me into a daze. He yanked, ripping my strap off my shoulder, exposin
g my naked breasts to the night air. “Finally,” said the monster on top of me.

  His hands squeezed my breasts, hard. It hurt. His breathing was ragged, repulsive with violent lust. My cheek stung and my head was fuzzy.

  “That’s right, sweetheart. You lie still for me.”

  His hand crawled under my dress and up my thigh. A shadow descended. Aron was ripped off me. I heard a strangled gagging.

  The haze receding, I rolled onto my side to find Lucius on top of Aron, choking him with one hand. Oh, God!

  I crawled to him and grabbed hold of the arm snuffing the life out of Aron, whose eyes already glazed with the emptiness of death.

  “Lucius. No!” I shook him. He was as immovable as a steel wall. I shook harder. “Stop! Don’t kill him.” He didn’t hear me, consumed by bloody rage. “They’ll lock you up.” His other hand gripped Aron’s throat—to kill him faster. “They’ll take you away from me! Lucius, I’ll be alone.”

  I wrapped my arm across the front of his chest, trying to force him to look at me. My words must’ve broken through the maddening fury, as he released the now unconscious Aron, seconds away from death.

  I cupped Lucius’s face in my hands, stark white against dark skin. Turning his face to me, I gasped at the terrifying rage that marked every line. His breath came quick and harsh.

  “I’m okay,” I whispered, brushing my lips to his cheek, trying to bring him back. “I’m okay.” With gentle kisses, he finally softened, awakening from bloodlust’s grip.

  He moved me away from Aron’s body with urgent swiftness. Before I could be embarrassed about my nakedness, Lucius took my broken straps in trembling fingers and tied it in a knot at my shoulder, covering me. How this man went from murderous frenzy to tenderness in a few short minutes rattled me to my bones. With hands on my shoulders, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine, slowly gaining control.

  My breath caught on a sob. He wiped the tears away with a gentle, shaking hand. Blue-fire blazing down, he scooped me in his arms, cradling me against his chest in an unyielding iron embrace. We shot up into the air, melding with night and shadows. I clung to him, my soul sighing now that I was finally where I belonged.

  Chapter 10

  Bloodlust pumped hard and strong through my veins. Somehow, I’d managed not to kill him. If Jessen hadn’t stopped me, he’d be a ghost already. My dragon growled, wanting to tuck her safely in my lair, then hunt him again. Make sure he understood the true meaning of pain and suffering. He dared to hurt her. My mate. Choking was too swift, too easy a death. When I had flown back to the garden and found him on top of her, there had been no thought, only an undeniable itch for my hands to wrap his throat and squeeze the life out of him.

  I flew fast to get her to safety and to get out of killing range. She cradled against me, pressing her cheek to my neck, her chest to my chest, her lips to my skin. Her fingers caressed the nape of my neck, soothing the beast, gentling him with her touch. Long black waves of her hair whipped in the wind, her scent invading my senses. She tucked her head in the crook under my chin. It was…perfect.

  I dove fast and winged onto my terrace with a jolt, too eager to smooth my landing. Brant had left my chamber door open as I’d asked. She lifted her head as I carried her through the curtain screen into my bedchamber. Finally having her safe in my domain, sealed behind secure doors and alarms, I could breathe again. Barely.

  I set her down and started a fire in the grate, trying to settle my nerves, needing to soothe her, unable to do so in my current state.

  Wide-eyed, she examined the room. I scented fear and excitement. I’d suspected before, but was sure now. My mate was a virgin. Something primal and possessive gripped me hard, urging me to take her now. Quickly. My pounding pulse shifted directions, imagining her on the black silk sheets, spread for me. I leashed that longing, burying it. For now.

  She was here. In my domain. Safe. She would be in my arms and my bed soon enough. The dragon watched, content, as she settled herself on the sofa and warmed herself by the fire. Her fair skin glowed golden from the flames. The enchantress sat, beauty personified, awaiting her fate. I stepped closer with a prayer on my heart. Deep brown eyes welcomed me.

  * * * *

  After I unbuckled the straps of my heels and shuffled them off, I peered around the darkened room while Lucius fixed a few more logs in place. My heart skipped a beat when I caught sight of the biggest bed I’d ever seen. I couldn’t imagine how they’d even gotten it in here. No posts or footboard, just a huge, ornately carved headboard rising about seven feet off the bed. Luxurious, black silk sheets covered the enormous bed. Holy hell! He hadn’t imagined me in a bed for his painting—he imagined me in his bed.

  I gulped, warming my hands by the fire, forcing my brain from thinking too many steps ahead.

  The silence filling the room had my heart skittering faster. After a long moment, Lucius seated himself on the sofa and pulled me into his lap. He flipped his wings with a deft move to hang over the low back of the sofa.

  He pulled me into the crook of his shoulder. Long fingers trailed through my hair down my back. We said nothing at first, holding each other and watching orange and yellow flames lick and crackle in the fire. The silence lulled me.

  His voice startled me when he broke the quiet. “I thought you loved him, that you’d lied. But something occurred to me. You hadn’t responded to his touch at all. And I know how you respond when you want someone.”

  I smiled.

  “So I came back, and I saw—” His teeth ground together. “I would’ve killed him. I still want to. I want to break his bones into splinters. I want to find him right now and finish it.” His muscles bunched underneath me.

  I comforted with a gentle hand, rubbing along his chest, letting him know I was here, and safe.

  “When I saw him on top of you, I thought I would go insane if I didn’t feel his breath leaving his body. Only the thought of you left alone kept me from the brink.”

  He looked at me. He wore no mask now. None. Emotion, raw and intense, rippled off him. “Jessen, if you don’t know it by now, my heart is already yours. Will you—” he took a deep, jagged breath. “Will you bind your heart to mine? Will you be mine through life’s flame and beyond?”

  I’d never heard those words before, and yet somehow they spoke to my heart as if I’d been waiting for them all my life. Waiting for him. The lump in my throat, a swelling of such utter joy, kept me from speaking.

  “Woman, if you don’t answer me soon, I may die from not knowing.”

  I laughed, a tear slipping. “Yes!” I twisted my body toward him, my hands on his shoulders. “Always.”

  “And I will be yours.” He caressed my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Always.”

  I waited for him to kiss me, but he didn’t. His eyes roamed to my cheek, a frown marring his gorgeous face. His hand came up near the swollen bruise, but he didn’t touch. His eyes fell to the small cut on my lip. His body tensed as if he might toss me aside to seek out and murder Aron anyway. Not that I gave a damn about the bastard’s life, but I didn’t want him intruding on this special moment of mine. I wanted Lucius all to myself, not lost in murderous thoughts.

  I leaned closer and combed my fingers through his hair, kissing a light trail up one side of his face and down the other. His body relaxed underneath me. I brushed one hand over his shoulder, down his chest, and back up, gentling my giant with touch. He trailed a line up and down my spine with his fingertips. While the tightness in his chest and shoulders softened, his hard ridge strained against my bottom, my thin dress no barrier to disguise his desire. His hand on my thigh tightened, then relaxed.

  I pulled back and stared into his eyes. Yes. I could see it. He feared my encounter with Aron would dampen my desire for him right now.

  “Lucius, I told you I will be yours. I want you in every way.” I cleared my throat, plucking up the nerve to say what I wanted more than anything. “I wan
t you to—” Oh, God. How do people say this stuff? Heat filled my cheeks.

  His devilish yet tender smile warmed me further. “I want you, too.” He shifted under me, showing me just how much. Whoa! I swallowed.

  He pressed a kiss to my temple and lifted me in his arms. He set me down on the edge of the bed and turned. “Would you help me unbutton the back-flaps?”

  He wanted me to undress him. Okay. Yes. This was moving forward. I could do this. My mind rattled constant encouragement as I kneeled on the bed to reach the seams under his wings. It was pretty cool to see how the clothing fit. I started on the line of buttons along a nearly invisible seam beneath each wing. Once undone, he pulled the jacket over his head.

  “How do you dress every day?” I began releasing the flaps of his black shirt.

  “That’s what Brant is for. Among other things.”

  I giggled. “Like fetching tea for damsels in distress.” The topic soothed me from all the drama and what was going to happen in his huge bed. My pulse pounded faster. I focused on the buttons. One step at a time.

  “Definitely for my damsel in distress.”

  “Is that why you Morgons wear so many stretchy T-shirts?”

  He laughed this time. “I suppose it is. Most of the flaps are sealed with a thin zipper, which is a lot easier to handle on your own. Frustration has made me tear a shirt or two.”

  “I bet.” I finished with the formal shirt.

  He slipped it over, and unzipped the two seams on his undershirt to pull it off. He turned to me, and my mouth dropped. All sinewy cords and ridged muscle. I didn’t want to be the inexperienced girl, gawking at her half-naked man, but my resolve to keep my cool vanished when confronted with the sight of him. Morgon men were an impressive species with their clothes on. My view at the moment made my mouth dry up and my body tremble. He smiled and moved closer, arms at his sides, making no sudden movements. “Touch me,” he whispered, voice gentle.