Air's Mark (Lords of Krete Book 3)

by Rachael Slate

  This time, he had better control, the urgency having dissipated, and he could make love to her forever. As though there were no end to this coupling. He teased the firm peak of her breast between his teeth, making her thrash her head to the side, then he shifted his hips even deeper and inhaled the luxurious perfume of her hair. She writhed beneath him, caged in, her every passion his to fulfill.

  She was finally at his mercy.

  Chapter 9

  Airla moaned and quivered while Lycus seized command of her body. No male’s touch had ever ignited across her skin as his did. No kiss had ever seared straight to her soul.

  No cries of pleasure had ever wrapped about her heart.

  Only she could offer him so much bliss. Warmth tingled through every muscle in her being. A mate meant everything to a bonded male and, by the gods, she craved that with Lycus. To have faith in a connection so secure, not even the Fates could tear them apart.

  A love so strong it could brave any storm, stronger for it.

  With him, it was as though her past and her future, which had once been severed, now fused together. She was whole.

  Lycus’s strong grasp clenched around her wrists and legs, binding her to the ground and demanding she yield.

  And oh, she did. Every inch of her body submitted to this male’s bidding, to the fulfillment of his long-deserted desires, his decadent masculine urges, the grunts and growls which made him as much beast as man.

  No fighting this. Only sweet, rapturous surrender.

  Lycus kissed her, hot and fervent, while the urgency in his thrusting seemed to only increase. Was there no end to this male’s lust? Perhaps not. After all, he’d reined in these passions for a century, and only she could sate them.

  The tiny ice hut grew warm with their heaving respirations, beading droplets forming on the walls. Sweet gods, if he kept this up the entire night, they might not have a hut left.

  His delicious weight crushed the air from her lungs, yet made her feel safe and protected. More than anything, treasured. As though he would defend her with every hardened muscle in his body.

  He was her shield of armor against the evil in the world.

  Lycus pumped himself into her, but suddenly halted and wrenched his mouth off hers. He peered into her eyes, his shaft pulsing inside her. “I want to make you my mate. Now.”

  It wasn’t a request, and all she could do was bob her head and swallow.

  He backed off her, releasing her arms and legs, which fell limp onto the furs. Planting his hands beneath her hips, he withdrew from her, slowly, tauntingly, with a wince on his face as though the parting caused him agony.

  Her sex throbbed in emptiness, too, until he bade her flip onto her knees and he palmed the flesh between her thighs, the heated friction of his rubbing soothing her need.

  Lycus snatched something from the bag behind him, then he inched her backward, sitting on his lap while they both knelt. “Now, Aella, you’re going to have to cut me, but fear not, my hand will guide yours.”

  She gave a nod of understanding, but distaste twisted her stomach. Nymphs couldn’t commit violent acts against living things, so Lycus had better keep his promise. She glanced back and eyed the dagger in his grip. Before she could worry further, Lycus pushed her down on top of him, impaling her core with his rigidness. They both groaned at the gratifying sensation. Linking his fingers through hers, he closed them around the hilt of the dagger. He brought their hands to his left arm, and, without hesitation, sliced a line encircling it.

  His response was swift and relentless, a bellowing roar burst from his chest while he pummeled his thickness inside her, filling her with his essence.

  It was all Airla could do to continue drawing air into her lungs, braced against the windstorm of her lover’s frenzied movements and the ecstasy that seized her muscles from his release. Her body convulsed in his arms, shaking and thrumming with euphoria so strong she almost fainted.

  After long moments, the tremors stopped and they both stilled and quietened, the hut filling with their shallow breaths.

  Tenderly, he placed kisses on her shoulder, his lips moving with aimless abandon. Purring gently, he droned, “Now, Airla, you are mine.”

  Although the knowledge of bonding to a mate wasn’t lost to them, none of the surviving centaurs had a mate. Sadly, their females had been the first victims of the Minotaurs. Lycus’s brothers didn’t have mates, well, at least that he knew of. So no one had disclosed to him how consuming the process would be.

  How every inch of his being would be aflame for her.

  Even mating with Airla hadn’t quenched the fires, only soothed them for a short time. After the ceremony, she’d fallen asleep in his arms, but he hadn’t been able to close his eyes. They rested together, his arms shielding her within his embrace, and he watched her sleep. How one person could suddenly become more important than anything in the world was an unfathomable mystery and indisputable truth. One he wouldn’t have believed before he’d claimed his mate.

  He would cut off his limbs and surrender his soul before he’d ever see any harm come to her.

  What he’d long sought—a reason to live, to fight, to revolt—it was right there, within her. She might even now be carrying their babe. He shifted his hand lower, to her belly, and groaned in memory of how good it had been to release a century’s worth of suppressed seed inside her. To glimpse those beads spill down her thighs, coating her in his scent. No other male could have her like he had. He’d ensured that. Branding his touch across every inch of her body. She would never forget him.

  Never be able to stay away or deny her cravings for him.

  Even more than his mate, as a nymph, she thrived on a male’s passions. By the gods, he’d poured enough of them into her last night.

  Darkness no longer enveloped the hut, which meant morning approached. Dawn, when the rays of the sun would mean Apollo’s scrutiny.

  As much as he loathed disturbing his new mate, there was no time to waste. Gently, Lycus detached himself from her bare form, wincing at the pulsing in his cock. If he had her again, they’d not leave this dwelling until they began to starve. He grinned and his amusement spread even wider as he caught a better view of the band encircling his arm. Fine scrolling atop the band and written in Old Centaurion proclaimed his mate’s name. Thin and black, every inch of the inking surrounding his upper left bicep declared his attachment to Airla. That she now commanded his body, hearts, and soul.

  He didn’t have a doubt, he would soon claim hers, too.

  She stirred, curling into herself, and moaned.

  “Awake, my love. We must return before the dawn breaks.”

  “So soon?” Her sultry lashes fluttered, and he had to clench his fist to fight losing control.

  “Aye, I’m afraid so.” Beholding her full breasts and the silken pink flesh between her thighs melted his resolve. He whipped about and concentrated on dressing instead.

  Humming, she plucked her clothes from the pile beside his feet and tossed them on, too. “I wish we didn’t have to go.”

  “Don’t say such things, lass, or we might not.” He winked at her and pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. Then he packed their things and paused at the doorway. “Come.” He extended his hand.

  Beaming at him, she slipped her fingers through his, and they emerged into the crisp morning air together. An orange and pink haze set the horizon aflame, sparing them little time to escape the first rays. Much of what Rhoetus had told them disturbed him. If the sun god had attacked the bonded pairs in Thessaly, he might also seek to destroy Lycus’s connection with Airla. Hell, what if King Minos and Apollo had an alliance? His brothers presumed Krete cut off from the rest of the world, their own solitary island of suffering. What if Krete was a piece, mayhap an important one, in this coming war between the gods?

  The idea wasn’t as unlikely as he’d like to believe it.

  “Concentrate on your tree.” Lycus snared Airla’s hand and puffed them both into the w
ind, traversing the land, and reappearing inside the realm of the Hyperboreans at Airla’s grove.

  “Whoa.” Airla teetered on her feet. He wound an arm around her waist to steady her. “Do you ever become accustomed to that?”

  “Aye, and I hope you will.” He chuckled against her hair. “There are so many places I’d love to take you.”

  She tilted her face to smile at him. “I would like that very much. Especially if it’s someplace warm.”

  “What? No more Arctic travels for you?”

  “Indeed not.” She planted her hand on his shoulder and lifted to press her lips against his. “Keep your mate happy and she’ll reward you for it.”

  “Oh, Aella, once your tree is safely planted, I vow that I will.”

  Airla strolled through the caves, smiling at her sisters. Could they sense she’d mated with Lycus? On the outside, she might appear the same, but inside, she felt so different. So complete. A wellspring of joy she’d suppressed had finally bubbled over, compelling her lips to quirk in a permanent curve. Though Lycus was the one who bore the bonding mark, he’d branded her, too.

  After she changed her clothes in her chamber, she met him at the tunnel to the giants’ castle. Everything his brother had disclosed seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders, sparking a determination in his eyes. He stared at her, kissing her fervently once, before tucking her hand into his arm and leading them through the tunnel. Once at the fortress, they announced their presence to the guards, and they opened the doors for them.

  King Zethes greeted them in the corridor with a joyful bellow. “Airla, Lycus. A pleasure, always, to have your company.”

  “I fear we bring ill news, and our purpose here, a solemn one.” Lycus inclined his head.

  “Aye, indeed.” Zethes assessed them, scratching his jaw. “Follow me.” He led them to a sitting room and bade them recline on the chaise longue while he plopped down onto an armchair.

  Lycus shifted in his seat, setting her at unease. “I’m afraid my brother, who commands the Fire, is unable to come to our aid. Which means—”

  “We must follow through with our original plan.” Zethes crossed his arms, his dark expression growing somber.

  “Are you certain?” Airla tensed.

  “Sweet nymph,” the giant cast her a warm smile, “these long years, I’ve not been able to watch you suffer and accept your fate. My brethren and I have devised a way to free you and nothing will stop us from following through.”

  She straightened, warmth flowing straight to her heart. Caution washed it away. “You shouldn’t risk yourselves for us. We can accept our fate, but we can’t condemn you to the same.”

  “It’s our risk to take.” Zethes shrugged a shoulder. His stubbornness bristled across her skin and she folded her hands in her lap to stop from admonishing him further. “Besides, lass, the sun god has stripped everything from us. If not for your company these long decades, who knows what madness we would have been driven into? We’re fighting for our freedom as well.”

  She slanted her gaze to Lycus. Precisely how dangerous would this be? She knew nothing of the details of Zethes’s schemes.

  Lycus met her stare, those cool orbs piercing her with longing and determination. “We must let them attempt it. The giants’ plan might seem precarious, but if they succeed, you’ll be free. If we don’t try, you’ll perish. We have no other choice.”

  Knitting her brows together, she studied both men. Their wills were like steep, rocky cliffs. And she, in the middle of them. Nothing to do but consent. Lycus might be burdened with guilt, but so was she. It was because of her that he accidentally cursed them. “Very well. What is your plan?”

  “That.” Zethes pointed a finger straight to the sky. “The sun has long been our curse, but mark my words, it will also be our salvation.”

  Lycus departed Zethes’s castle with Airla’s slender hand closed around his arm, the weight of their mission heavy on his hearts. A fortnight. That was all the time left to prepare, unless they chose to wait another year.

  Airla’s tree didn’t have one more year.

  She led him to the grove and the glimmering ice sheeting across her tree’s trunk screamed at him in urgency.

  “It’s worse today.” He glanced at Airla. Were her locks even paler? Her skin even lighter?

  “Yes.” She shivered and wrapped her cloak tighter about her body.

  He closed his arms around her and shielded her from the rolling winds. “We should go back to the cave. It’s too cold out here.”

  “One m-minute m-more,” she chattered, her teeth clacking as she extended a hand toward the ice-coated bark. Barely any of the leaves remained unfrozen. He didn’t dare count how many, but no more than a handful. “Two weeks.” She shuddered in his arms. “If we fail, that will be the end. I won’t make it any longer.”

  “Shh.” He tilted her face to his and swept a finger across the frost crystalizing on her cheek. “Don’t think like that, sweetling. I’ll never let it come to that.” By the gods, if he had to fly into the sun and drag back a handful of its rays to thaw her, he would. Nothing would stop him from righting this grievous wrong.

  She nodded, those shining depths sparkling with frozen tears, and then huddled her face against his chest.

  He scooped her into his arms, carried her to the cave, and set her down near the blazing fire. Much time had passed since he’d suffered from the cold, yet sitting next to his endangered mate, a chill iced his soul. Airla was so much more than his mate, and he’d loved her far longer than he’d known what she was to him.

  He’d loved her forever. From the first moment he’d cast his gaze upon her. A century without her had numbed him into a desolate wasteland of despair, and being reunited thawed his hearts. It made him want again.

  Want to live.

  Want to fight.

  Want to sacrifice everything for one tiny splinter of hope.

  As a lad, he’d never discerned these emotions so deeply. As a man, they tormented him.

  Airla glanced up at him from across the fire. Flames danced in her eyes as she rose and glided toward him, settling on his lap. Her eyes fluttered and she hummed a sigh, sinking against him and rolling her hips. His cock stiffened, eager for his mate.

  Groaning, he skimmed his fingers across her curves, raising her skirts. She edged down his breeches and freed his hardening arousal.

  While she rocked against him, he buried his face in her chest, nuzzling along her lush bosom. She braced her hands on his shoulders and sank onto his length, uttering a delicate mewling.

  Her scent, her softness, they lured him in and held him captive.

  He was hers. Every part of him.

  For however long that meant.

  Chapter 10

  Two weeks later

  Airla stared at Lycus’s outstretched hand. It was time. She bit her lip in indecision. The giants had been preparing like mad creatures for the past two weeks, and now, the sun sank below the horizon, a scalding reddish hue fading for the first time in a year. One night. That was all they had to secure their plan.

  Steeling herself, she placed her hand in her mate’s. He gave a firm squeeze for reassurance.

  And then the giants came.

  Fifty thunderous males bearing long planks of obsidian glass on their backs, hauling them to the grove. First, they erected the pillars around the edges of the grove. Next, they placed the ceiling.

  If this worked, the sun god would never realize the grove was missing. Until it was too late. They would be free—and safe.

  Lycus released her hand and employed his wind powers to aid the giants in setting the blocks.

  Airla huddled across from the grove, watching them long into the night. The sun kept them prisoner. It would also set them free.

  If the giants were successful.

  Moments before the first rays of the dawn broke across the tops of the mountains, Lycus ushered her to his side with rapid waves of his hands. “Come, now, love.”

&nbs
p; Eagerly, she raced to his side. Lycus sent a solemn nod toward the giants, who had scattered amongst the trees, linking their hands together around them. Her mate’s powers were great, but were they potent enough to save everyone?

  Even more, what if their plan didn’t succeed and the trees remained too frozen to move?

  Airla pressed a kiss to Lycus’s mouth and settled beside her tree in the centre of the grove. She rested open palms against her bark, praying to sense warmth spreading through her tree.

  Sunlight cracked across the mountains, bright rays streaking over the fields of snow. She held her breath as the glass ceiling above her warmed.

  It was working.

  By the gods, it was working.

  She cast a hopeful beam toward Lycus, but he was too focused on the ceiling, a stern frown cutting across his features. If Apollo learned they’d joined forces with the giants, he might shoot fiery rays down upon them and end them.

  Long hours passed while they waited in silent anticipation. Suddenly, one of the nymphs cried. “My tree!” Syke squealed, clapping her hands. “It’s thawed. It’s completely thawed!”

  Syke’s tree rested on the easternmost corner of the grove and, one by one, shouts of triumph spread across the grove. Airla’s roots were the deepest planted, and even when her sisters’ trees had thawed, hers still hadn’t.

  Lycus paced the circumference of the grove. “Why is it taking so long?” he snarled, casting a scowl toward the sun.

  Airla set her shoulders, the decision solidifying inside her. “Mine was the first, and it will be the last. The sun won’t ever be strong enough to thaw my tree, and the other trees are already thawed. Apollo could discover this at any moment. You can’t wait forever for mine.” She faced her sisters. “You must go without me.”

  “No, sister,” Syke pleaded with wide green eyes. “Don’t ask such a thing of us.”