“Kris!”
I jumped off the bed and took a few quick steps toward the doorway, unsure where I was going or what I planned to do. White spots filled my vision as the blood rushed to my head. I stumbled and fell on all fours.
Before I could even see straight, I was lifted by a cursing Kol.
“Damn it, woman. Can you not be so stubborn for once?”
His words were rough, his tone gentle—an intoxicating contradiction—much like the man himself. Instead of putting me back in his bed, he carried me into the next room and placed me in a chair before another fireplace, careful not to aggravate my wound. I waited while the world righted, then peered around. Kol poured something from a kettle on the stove along a wall farther off. This room was similar to the bedroom—a wide, open space encompassing the kitchen and living area with little furniture.
“Kris. Please tell me someone made sure she got home safely.”
He crossed the room and placed a round, warm mug in my hands. “Of course. Kraven took her home.”
I sighed with relief, thankful my friend made it out safely. “He told her you were feeling sick and left early.”
“She wouldn’t accept that. It’s not like me to just disappear.”
He leaned one arm on the mantel, made of dark wood, jutting out from a river-rock chimney like the one in his bedroom. “She protested at first, but Kraven can be very persuasive.”
I remembered the way he looked at her. “I’m sure.”
“Drink up.”
I peered into the cup and smelled a soothing aroma. “What is it?”
“It’s a Petrus concoction. Your headache will be gone as soon as you finish.”
I sipped, expecting a bland medicinal broth. It was pleasantly herbed and tasty.
Kol stared into the yellow flames. I studied him over the rim of the mug, the throbbing in my head fading as he had promised.
This man. This man—hidden behind an icy wall, behind a façade to keep the world at bay—no longer aggravated or annoyed me. He intrigued me, lured me. Rather than let Lorian take me to a hospital, he insisted on taking care of me himself. Why? I wanted answers. I wanted to know more of the man behind the frozen exterior.
“So why did you bring me here? Why not Lorian’s?”
Still staring into the fire, he didn’t answer. I’m not sure he heard me at all. There was a rushing noise close by, other than the hissing flames.
“That can’t be rain. Unless you live south of Gladium. But you work mostly in Drakos for the Morgon Guard, so that can’t be.”
He took the mug from my hand and set it aside, holding out his arm. “Come. I’ll show you.”
Curling my fingers around his forearm, I let him lead me just in case I decided to have another dizzy spell and fall on my face again in humiliation. I hadn’t noticed the opening in the wall to the left of the hearth. The hall was dark, but pale light shone up ahead. As we drew closer to another archway, the rushing water grew louder, the cold more intense. Stepping out of the opening, I was instantly hit with a fine, misty spray and icy wind. I sucked in a quick breath. We stood on a ledge twelve feet deep and thirty feet wide where nothing but a cascade of water curtained the aperture. By the faint light on the other side, I could tell the moon was still up.
“A waterfall!” The rushing-water noise drowned out my voice. “You live behind a waterfall?”
“Good camouflage.” He didn’t have to yell. His deep tenor reached me easily.
Peering up at him, the rushing water reflected a soft pattern on his face. The harsh planes seemed gentler. His eyes roved down to my bare legs, which trembled from the draft, his shirt stopping at my knees. Glittering pools of silver met my gaze. My breath hitched. As if caught in a vise, I couldn’t look away. He didn’t pretend nonchalance as he drank me in—my hair, cheeks, lips, eyes. Rather, he revealed open hunger—the look of a man who knew what he wanted, who was used to getting what he wanted, who would demand my submission if it so pleased him. And the sad part? I knew I’d submit. In less than a heartbeat. Not of my own volition. It was like my body was ensnared by a mystical web, resonating with his on an undeniable level. I couldn’t figure it out. Did the marking give him some control over me?
He lifted a hand, then brushed his fingertips across my cheek, sliding down my jaw to my parted lips, grazing with unimaginable softness for such a man. Pulse pounding in my throat at the thought of being helpless beneath him like before, I let go of his arm. He dropped his hand and blinked slowly, breaking the spell.
“You need to sleep,” was his command. Before I could take a step, he swept me in his arms and carried me back into his house.
“I can walk. I’m not an invalid.”
He grunted, holding me tighter. I blew out a frustrated breath. But the truth was, this felt good. The woodsy, wintry smell of him filled my senses, drawing me in, wrapping me in sensual unrest. Why? Because he’d marked me with his scent? Was I now hooked on him like a drug addict needed a fix? I closed my eyes, willing the sudden arousal washing over me to be gone. No such luck.
He set me on his bed and pulled up the covers.
“Why did you bring me here?”
He blew out the candle on the side-table. “Get some rest.”
He left me, snuggled in his warm bed with my question unanswered and my wayward thoughts wreaking havoc on my frustrated body. I stared at the shadows dancing on the domed ceiling for a long time and finally drifted to sleep, heedless of the darkness waiting for me there.
Chapter 13
I was chained to a stone slab on my back, arms and legs stretched outward, naked. Cold, damp air wrapped me in shivering fear. Borgus materialized from smoke and shadow near my feet, a lascivious grin stretching his mouth into a grotesque mask. With the tip of one finger, he started at my ankle, slid up my calf, crossed behind my knee, and grazed along my inner thigh.
“No!” I protested, unable to move an inch.
“No?” He continued up my thigh and over my pelvic bone, making circles on my abdomen. “That wasn’t what you said in the club.”
“I lied. I don’t want you. I don’t want this. I don’t want to die!”
His finger left my skin. His sickening black-eyed gaze finished the trail up my torso to my breasts to meet my terrified eyes.
“You’re not for me, lovely Moira. You’re for someone special.”
“Who?”
His mouth and eye twitched as he evaporated into wispy smoke.
An odd noise, like steel scraping stone, filled the dark chamber. Someone else was there. Veiled in a shroud of darkness, he loomed large at the foot of the stone slab. I could see no features, only the silhouette of a huge Morgon man and piercing fire-gold eyes. Smoky mist curled around him, hiding his identity. A familiar essence of evil crawled over my skin, seeping into my bones, filling me with sickening dread. The creature, for it was more monster than man, hefted himself onto the slab and over my body. A stench of rot and decay smothered me, choked me, as the thing’s face hovered over mine. Still, I could see nothing but his eyes—full dragon with black, vertical slits dilated in burning amber.
He grabbed my breast with a rough hand and squeezed. I screamed.
“Mine.” A broken, guttural voice. A demon’s voice.
He lowered his putrid body between my legs, his veiled face coming closer, cold lips clamping over my own as I screamed and screamed and screamed.
“Moira.” Someone shook me. “Wake up!”
I thrashed my arms, beating the air, beating someone else.
“Moira. It’s me.”
I grabbed the wrists of the hands cupping my face, finally fighting through the haze of the nightmare to see Kol above me. His eyes flashed bright, wrapping me in an unexpected sense of safety. I burst into tears and threw my arms around his neck, clinging like a child.
“Shhh.” He lay in the bed next to me, the covers having fallen to the floor. Holding and rocking me against his
warm, bare chest, one hand brushed over my hair and back. “It was a nightmare. You’re okay.”
I kept crying, unable to speak at first, letting the tide of fear wash away with each soothing stroke of Kol’s hand.
“No,” I sobbed. “It was more than that. I knew him. I’d felt him before.” The tears streamed hot and fast down my cheeks, slipping sideways onto the pillow. I still clung to Kol, unwilling to let my protector go, the lingering effects of the dream still clawing my insides.
“I’d forgotten about him.” I sniffed. “He was there. Tonight. In that exit where Borgus was taking me.”
“What do you mean?” He continued to coax me with gentle hands and a soft voice.
“There was someone there. In the shadows. He was…evil. Dark as death. Waiting for us. For me.” I sobbed again. Kol brushed away the tears, but they continued to fall.
“That’s what I forgot to tell you. Couldn’t admit. As soon as I sensed him, I couldn’t go on. I wanted out of my dumbass plan. I wanted to run, far away. I was a coward! Those girls. That thing. Oh, God!” A fit of crying overwhelmed me.
“Shhh. Stop now.”
His thumb brushed over the trail of my tears, a continuing caress as I tried to slow my panicked breathing. I pressed closer, not caring that I seemed weak, needing warmth and comfort to wipe away that horrific thing from my senses, needing to feel the strength and protection of his muscular body. Minutes passed while he soothed me with gentle hands, my nerves unwinding with each touch that slid over my hair and down my back. I inhaled and let out a jagged breath.
“You’re safe.” Something in his voice, an unexpected tenderness, called to me.
Prying myself from his shoulder, I examined the outline of his face by the dying embers in the hearth. I brushed my fingertips over the scar now hidden in shadow. His eyes glinted silver, sliding closed as I caressed him. Both of us sought comfort in the dark.
Heart pounding for a different reason, I let my fingers explore as I never would in the light of day—across his brow, along his granite jaw where a day’s stubble scratched my fingertips, over his wide mouth and sensuous lips. Sensuous. I’d never noticed before. Or maybe I hadn’t let myself notice. With all the coldness of Kol, his lips defied everything he appeared to be. His lips invited, summoned, lured.
Those lips parted. Two fingertips, shaky, skimmed a fraction inside, resting on a ridge of teeth. His tongue touched the tips. A half-moan escaped me as I pulled my fingers away. His hand combed into my hair, curling around the nape of my neck, his mouth brushing an intimate invitation against mine. I opened for him, and he came inside.
Gentler, but no less dominant than last time, he slid his tongue into my mouth, licking and tasting. Possessing me with his kiss. He shifted his weight over me. My body awakened to the bliss of having him so close again.
His mouth opened mine wider. He wanted more. So did I. In my right mind by daylight, when I wasn’t drowsy from sleep, needy from a nightmare, warm beneath his comforting weight, and delirious with the sensation of his mouth marking me anew, I might have been able to push away. Might. But in such a state, I was helpless against his desire, against my own. All I could think was—
“Yes.”
His lips trailed to my neck, nipping and licking a hot line down the tender column of my throat. My fear faded. An aching need coiled tight with every brush of his mouth on my skin. Although I couldn’t see him in the dark, I could certainly feel him. My hands molded over the wide expanse of his chest, down the ridges of his abdomen. He found my mouth again, groaning as my hands wandered a soft path up and down. Lower to the thin trail of hair disappearing into his pants.
“Moira.” A warning.
He gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head in a firm, yet gentle grip, speaking against my lips. “Stop that.”
I bit his lower lip, swollen from hard kisses. “Why?”
“Because you’re injured. And I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
I let out a breathy laugh. “A gentleman? A devil, maybe.”
He pressed a swift, hard kiss to my lips, then shifted back to my side. “Kittycat, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Keeping both my wrists bound in one hand, his other skimmed over my bare thigh. He nipped down my neck, sucking the hollow at the base. I closed my eyes, letting my body have what she’d been craving ever since his mouth had left me during the scent-marking.
Long fingers found the apex between my legs, stroking over damp satin. If I was in my right mind, I might be embarrassed. But I wasn’t calm-and-collected Moira. I was some other woman, driven by sensation alone. I moved my hips to match his stroking fingers. He growled. Or actually, the dragon growled.
“Keep your hands above your head.” An order. I obeyed.
He freed my wrists and pulled my shirt up above my breasts, all the while still stroking between my legs, soaking the thin fabric.
“Beautiful,” the deep-barreled voice whispered as his mouth opened over my breast, then sucked the tip hard.
My neck and back arched upward on a gasp. He slid my panties down over my hips. I bent my knees so he could slide them off my legs. He left them at the crook, one hand resting on a knee, keeping them bent and parted. His tongue circled my peak as his fingers teased down the inside of my thighs. Then his hands and mouth left my skin altogether. Wanting and desperate, I half-opened my eyes to find him staring into mine with a look of fevered longing, fixed and fierce.
“Don’t close your eyes again.”
I nodded, willing to obey any command.
Totally exposed. Totally vulnerable, my body thrummed for more. He bent his face close to mine, lips touching but not moving, holding my gaze in the dark.
A long finger stroked down my slick cleft, then slid back up in a slow, languorous caress.
“God, Kol,” I whimpered.
No smile.
“Stay with me, Moira.”
I did, lacing my fingers behind his nape as his finger probed my opening, then slid inside. I was so tight. It had been a long time since Mikal. Since anyone for that matter.
I made a choked sort of sound as my hips rocked up to meet his increasing thrusts. He pulled out.
“No,” I begged, “Please.”
He did smile then, sliding two fingers inside me, stretching me with divine pleasure. My mouth fell open on a cry. He smothered it with his own, his tongue thrusting deep. I rocked back and forth, my body knowing what it wanted, mounting higher.
I kissed him deeper, drawing him into me, wanting more of him. Burning. I was on fire. I whispered his name in the dark, a plea for something, for more. Clutching his shoulders, I moaned in ecstasy, like I’d never done in my entire life, coming hard and fast, my muscles clamping on his fingers. Squeezing my thighs, pleasure rocked through me.
What was he doing to me? This wasn’t me. I didn’t make-out with guys I barely knew or let guys feel me up that I had no intention of dating. I’d only ever been with one person and that was after a long time of courtship. Where the hell was Moira? I didn’t recognize the woman panting and pleasantly sated beneath the behemoth of Morgon man. But God, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
He pulled his fingers out and slid my panties back into place, then righted my shirt. He lifted the covers back on the bed, then threw two more logs on the fire. Sparks spit and crackled as the flames licked around the dry wood. Finally, he lay on top of the bed, stretched on his side. “Go to sleep.”
I curled up on my side, facing away from him, ignoring what just happened as much as he seemed to be. I didn’t understand Kol. During the scent-marking, he was all smug about his male prowess. Now, he was so grave, so serious.
“I can’t.”
“You won’t have the same nightmare.” He was close enough that his breath heated the back of my neck, but he didn’t touch me.
“How do you know?”
“Remember when Petrus said clans have certain gifts?”
“Yeah.”
“My clan has the ability to influence dreams. You won’t have another nightmare.”
I rolled over. “Seriously?”
His gaze was steady in the dark. “Dreamwalkers, some people call us.”
“You can enter people’s dreams?” I was already having trouble dealing with him in reality. The last thing I needed was him wandering into my dreams. “Wait. You won’t do that to me, will you?”
The firelight brightened the room more than before. I caught his ghost of a smile.
“No. It doesn’t work that way. We can influence the dreams of someone we’re physically close to, though some of my clansmen can send messages, even visit the dreams of those we have a deeper connection with.”
“Oh.”
I curled my hands into the blanket under my chin.
“You won’t have any nightmares, Moira. I promise you.”
Feeling shy all of a sudden, I flipped over. I liked my name on his lips. His rough voice letting the soft syllables roll in a rumble made my heart trip a few beats.
I listened to the crackling fire and burrowed into the pillow, forcing my breathing to slow, willing myself to accept his promise as truth. So calm and serene in the warm room. There was a tug on my mind. Something pulled me away from reality, as if I were being carried into the other world of my subconscious. I drifted toward the world of sleep, floating in the tranquil place in between. Before I slipped over the edge, I thought I heard gruff, stern words.
“No one’s going to hurt you. I won’t let them.”
And I thought I felt the gentle touch of a heavy hand combing through my long hair. But surely, I’d already fallen into a soft dream.
Chapter 14
I knew he wasn’t in the bed from the moment my eyes opened. His presence had stamped itself clear and heavy on me. Wrapping a thick, down blanket around my shoulders, not yet ready to squeeze into my too-tight pants I wore last night, I then shuffled into the next chamber.
An alcove in the short corridor opened up to a spacious bathroom I hadn’t noticed the night before. Against a smooth rock wall, three wide-mouthed spouts jettisoned hot water into one waterfall with the turn of a black lever. Not feeling comfortable enough to shower in his place, I twisted a similar faucet above a deep black-marble basin, splashing my face and rinsing my mouth with warm water. There was no mirror of any kind in the stark room. After finding a towel in a dark-wood cabinet, I dried my face and went in search of my host.
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