Yes. “No.”
“Then you wouldn’t care if I allowed him to touch my breasts and lick my nipples? You wouldn’t care if I guided his fingers inside me and—”
“No! Now, not another word from you.” He fisted the material, wringing out the last of the moisture. Clear droplets blended with red, creating a pink river as it slid along the slope of her neck and onto the emerald moss. “If you take him to your bed,” he found himself adding, unable to stop the words, “I will eat his heart in front of you.”
He could have been mistaken, but he thought he saw a flash of delight in her violet eyes. “There’s only one man I crave in that way,” she admitted softly.
Thank the gods. You grow more dishonorable by the second.
She tried to sit up, but he gripped her shoulders and pinned her down.
“Not yet. Rest.”
“Don’t order me around.”
“I’ll order you if I please. I’m stronger than you are.”
“Only when I allow you to be.”
He crouched beside her and rested his hand on her stomach, needing to feel her heat, her life. Her belly quivered. “You truly think yourself stronger than me?”
“Think?” she snorted. “Your ass has seen more dirt than mine these past few days.”
That wrung a surprised laugh out of him. He blinked. Laughter? Now? That hadn’t been part of his life in so long he’d forgotten such a thing was possible.
Delilah was staring at him as if mesmerized. “I thought your smile lovely, but…you should laugh more often. You’re breathtaking.”
He looked away, proving that she was indeed the stronger of the two. “This madness will have to end soon,” he said on a sigh. “We will find a way to end it.”
“If we don’t kill each other first,” she muttered.
How close had she come to death this day? Sadly, he couldn’t even blame the gods. “I am…sorry.”
“For what?” she asked, sounding genuinely confused.
“Is your mind addled now? Why do you think?”
“For biting me, yes, I know. But explain yourself, explain why you’re sorry.”
“You were hurt, Delilah.”
“By my own actions, Layel, so there is no need to apologize for the bite. I deserve an apology for the other thing, however.”
His name on her lips was paradise. “What other thing?”
“You stopped kissing me. You left me…needy.”
Heat, so much heat. His muscles twitched in response, his cock hardening. Again. “I will not apologize for that.”
She lifted a hand to her neck and traced the wound there. “I would have liked to finish,” she said with a pout.
He allowed his fingers to dabble at her navel—pretty, smooth skin, lovely tattoo—his blood flowing faster and faster in his veins. Stop. Can’t. He moved his fingers to her neck and flattened his palm to the back of her hand. “Your willingness to absolve me is surprising.”
“Back to the bite?”
“Of course.”
She sighed, loud and long. “Why surprising?”
“You don’t strike me as the forgiving type.”
Her wrist twisted so they were palm to palm. “What do I strike you as, then?”
He peered down at her, snared in a spell he didn’t like but was helpless against. “Lovely. Strong.” He grinned slowly. “Vindictive. You were ready to slaughter the dragons for taking your sister.”
“That was different.”
“Why?”
“My sister could’ve been hurt.”
“You were hurt.”
“I believe I mentioned that I caused it.”
“Which you should not have done and will not do again. I’ll have your word.”
She shook her head, blue hair dancing around her. “No, you’ll not get it. You can try and force me, however.”
There was relish in her tone. A dare, a challenge. His eyes narrowed. If she’d been his woman, he would have—Nothing, he told himself. He would have done nothing. She would never be his. To even consider the possibility was a betrayal. “Are you not worth as much as your sisters?”
“I was born to protect them.”
Hmm. Did she see herself as worthless when compared to them? As worthless as you tried to make her feel earlier? Using his free hand, he scrubbed his face wearily. “If I had hurt you purposely, would you have retaliated?”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.
“But this time…”
“I don’t know.” She uttered another of those sighs. “I only know I didn’t want you to fight. Not me, not the dragons.”
“They would not have bested me.”
“I know.”
She did? And why did he find such pleasure in the knowledge? “Then why—”
“Your questions will never stop, will they?” She didn’t sound upset, just resigned. “Any man who can pin me cannot be easily bested. I know that, yet the knowledge didn’t stop the worry that you could have been hurt.”
Him. Not Tagart. Satisfaction filled him, as potent as bloodwine. “I have lost several battles over the years,” he admitted.
“Then you didn’t really wish to kill your opponent,” she said simply.
He blinked in surprise. He had known that, but no one else had ever suspected. He’d allowed his own people to think he’d merely been weak in those moments, rather than let them know the truth. Pride had not concerned him on those occasions.
Every battle he had lost, he’d lost because he had walked away after seeing his opponents with their mates. They’d been so deeply in love. His chest had ached, as it was doing now. He hadn’t been able to deliver that final blow, separating the couples for eternity. It was either kill them both or not at all. In recent years he had erred too much on the side of not at all.
How could Delilah realize that, after knowing him for so short a time?
He opened his mouth to say something—what, he didn’t know—when a trumpet reverberated in the distance. He whirled around, searching through the trees. The trumpet sounded again.
“What is it?” Delilah asked, pulling herself into a crouch.
“I think,” he said, dread flowing through him, “we’re being summoned for our next challenge.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SHE MIGHT NOT SURVIVE the night, Delilah thought. She’d spent her life fighting one battle or another, had gone weeks at a time with barely any food or rest. But she had never been this drained. Literally.
Twice Layel had drunk from her. One encounter she’d enjoyed a little too much. One had been necessary to save him. If he had killed Tagart, her team would have killed him. So she’d taken the force of his fury herself. There had been pain in the savage bite, but there had also, unexpectedly, been pleasure. His weight pinning her down…his strength…his ferocity…
He’d told her many humans had died after drinking vampire blood. How would it affect her? As strongly as the man himself did? She shivered as she remembered the way he’d hovered over her, determined to keep her alive, protective, focused only on her, everything she’d ever dreamed—and almost fell from the log she currently balanced upon. Becoming vampire would ruin her. But she couldn’t deny the fact that she liked the thought of having some part of Layel inside her. Even his blood.
Mind on the task at hand.
The gods had indeed decided it was time for another challenge. Every member of the two teams had been told to choose a log rising from the water. One team on each side, opposing members facing each other. They were to stand on the tiny planks while the waves danced at their ankles.
Last one standing won.
A worthy warrior can endure heat, exhaustion, hunger and inactivity for long periods of time, one of the gods—a female this time—had said before the game commenced. And so you will stand and endure, proving by your tolerance that you have earned the right to call yourselves warriors.
Once again you are working as a team. Encourage each other if
you must, distract your opponents if possible. But above all else, your mission is to be the last one standing. Your team will then know the glory of our delight—but since I suspect you will not fully comprehend just how great a reward that is, you will also be granted a more tangible prize. The other team, the losing team, will say goodbye to another member. I wish you all the strength you are surely going to need.
Those words ringing in her ears, Delilah peered down the opposite line and eyed Nola. Her sister seemed fine, anchored and steady. Thank the gods. Assured of the warrioress’s stamina, Delilah shifted her gaze. To Layel. She couldn’t help it. They were facing each other. He’d made sure of it, shoving Brand out of the way when the dragon tried to take the stump opposite her. She had experienced a stirring of pride as she’d watched her man—is he?—fight to be near her.
They’d been standing here for over an hour, moonlight keeping them cool. With every minute that passed, her head swam with more dizziness, becoming lighter, as if she were floating in the clouds.
“I know the goddess told us we were doing this to prove our endurance, but really. What’s the point of this challenge in the big scheme of things?” she muttered.
“The warrior who can stand firm against any obstacle to meet his objective is the warrior who will prove victorious in the last battle,” Layel said.
“Do you mean bite any obstacle?”
Layel didn’t laugh as she’d intended. As she reflected upon her words, she realized they weren’t funny. They were cruel. He had not meant to hurt her. He’d even apologized. Gods, what was wrong with her? Why was she—swaying…falling. Her eyelids popped open—when had she closed them?—and she planted her feet firmly on the stump, maintaining her pose.
“Look at me,” Layel demanded fiercely.
Black spots winked over her vision as she sought him. A long, dark tunnel greeted her. Where was he?
“Delilah,” he snapped.
“What?” she snapped back. Lashes—closed. Damn it! She pried them open again. Feet—planted. Layel—glaring at her.
“Do not fall asleep, woman. That will only irritate me.”
Her lips twitched. “Are you commanding me because you hope I’ll jump in the water just to spite you?”
His eyes sparkled like freshly polished sapphires, and he slowly smiled.
She loved his smile. Loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. Loved the light that seemed to illuminate his entire face, chasing away the somber memories. But every time he showed her the barest hint of genuine amusement, she fell a little deeper under his seductive power and that was foolish.
“I’m going to beat you.” Hopefully by speaking the words she gave them the power to keep her upright.
“Me, perhaps.” His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I doubt you will defeat my…team.” He said the last with disgust. “They are determined to win this time.”
If they didn’t, they would go back to the execution circle. Her blood chilled. To lose another man meant that Layel’s team would be two members short. Worse, Layel might be the player to go.
Another bout of dizziness hit her, and she swayed.
“Damn it, Delilah.”
Her legs shook and her neck ached, but she stood her ground despite her body’s obvious need for rest. “Yes, cursing helps,” she said dryly.
“What will it take to make you concentrate?”
Several others glanced over at them, frowning. At the moment, she didn’t care what anyone thought. “How about if you jump? That ought to get my attention,” she said, half-fearing he would.
“Besides that.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping away the beads of sweat glistening in the golden moonlight. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
“Liar.”
She liked that he knew her well enough to sense when she spoke true—or not. “How much longer until people start to fall?” she wondered aloud.
“Hours. Days.”
She nearly groaned. “Surely someone—”
“Quiet!” a centaur snapped.
“If you desire peace,” Layel told him sharply, “jump from your post and swim to shore.”
Silence met his solution.
Why did that excite her? What kind of woman had she become? He had only to exude his prowess on anyone and her body reacted. Her nipples were hard, and that moisture once again pooled between her legs despite her weakness, despite those around them, despite the circumstances.
Broderick the nymph inhaled deeply and sent his gaze down the line. His pupils were dilated, and when he spotted her, he licked his lips. There were tiny puncture wounds all over his face, neck and arms.
Her gaze shifted to the gorgon on their team. A beautiful woman—a rarity among the race—she was tall and lithe, with elegant features. Her eyes were wide and dark, flecked with silver and filled with satisfaction. Long, thin snakes slithered atop her head, hissing in every direction. Broderick must have sated himself with her, over and over again, for he appeared stronger than ever, his skin rosy with color, his muscles firm, his stance solid. And yet he still wanted Delilah? Nymphs! They were impossible to please.
Layel growled low in his throat, drawing her attention, the nymph forgotten.
“Something wrong?” she asked him.
“I told you to focus, yet you were staring at the nymph.”
Jealous again? How had he treated his mate? Had he smiled at her often? Tenderly loved her each and every night? Given her everything Delilah wanted for herself? Or had he been fierce, as he was now? Delilah wished she had known him then. Except, well, she might have killed his mate in a wee bit of jealous rage, so perhaps meeting now was for the best.
“Preparing to chop someone to bits?” Layel asked, catching her expression.
“Perhaps.”
“The nymph, I hope.”
“You?” She’d meant it as a statement, but it emerged as a question, the thought of feasting on him tantalizing.
“That would be wise,” he said, and there wasn’t a hint of anger or amusement in his tone.
Her head tilted to the side as she studied him. “Why?”
He was silent for a long while before shrugging as he had earlier. “Remind me never to attack you again. You become annoying.”
A gasp escaped her. “Annoying?”
“You continually ask questions and repeat what I say.”
“What questions have I asked?” she demanded, then felt color heat her cheeks as he gave her a droll look. With the color, however, came strength, her limbs trembling less. Had he purposely baited her to help her retain her balance?
Dear gods. Now she was questioning herself. “Never mind. You are not as evil as you would have the world believe,” she told him, neither asking a question nor repeating something he’d said.
“You’re right.”
He was agreeing with her now? That was a first.
“I’m worse.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you. Tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done.”
“I can tell you that,” Brand said, suddenly speaking up.
Layel bared his fangs at the dragon.
That man and his hate. He was eaten alive with it, had condemned an entire race for one woman’s death. You would do the same had it been one of your sisters. That would have to change, she thought. For both of them. She didn’t like the thought of Layel being consumed by anything save desire. His touch—and his smiles—were simply too wondrous.
She leveled a narrowed glance at Brand. While she wanted Layel’s secrets, she wanted the vampire to be the one to tell them to her. “Keep speaking, and I’ll tell the entire assembly something about you. Something you wish I didn’t know.”
Nola, who stood at the far end, leaned forward. “Speak louder. I want to hear this.”
Zane stared at the girl, his expression dark. Brand, too, looked over at her and tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. Nola caught his look and blushed. Actually blushed like a
n untried girl, though Delilah knew she had once been given a captive male as a reward for demonstrating unparalleled bravery on the battlefield. Perhaps, though, she had left the man untouched and spent the night alone. Perhaps she’d wanted something more than mere capitulation from a lover, as Delilah did.
If she kept looking between them, Delilah mused, she was going to fall. She carefully replanted her heels on the log. Heard a splash in the distance. Her back straightened, and she gazed down the line, searching.
The demon on her team had fallen. He came up sputtering. The two centaurs, who’d twisted to watch the creature swim to the beach, fell next, unable to balance their hooves any longer. Delilah shook her head—dizzy, stop!—and sighed.
“Amazon,” Brand called suddenly.
Delilah blinked at him, but he wasn’t watching her. His gaze was still glued on pretty Nola.
“Stop glancing between your sister and the vampire. You’ll fall,” he said.
Nola raised her fist at him before glaring straight ahead.
“Ah, look at that. An Amazon who obeys a man’s command without question. A novelty indeed,” Layel said.
Delilah turned back to him, pulse jumping at the sound of his husky voice. Gods, he was beautiful. Striking and full of verve. A protector in a predator’s skin. “Are all vampires angry, snarling beasts?”
He inclined his head. “Just me. Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“You’re sure?”
“Look who’s asking questions now,” she told him smugly. A swift survey of the contestants had her noticing the other vampire’s gaze was once more on her friend. “Your warrior watches my sister with dark intentions in his eyes, as though he wants her for dinner.”
Layel’s gaze slowly perused Delilah’s face. “That displeases you, I see. Jealous?”
There was so much anger in the question, she was momentarily taken aback. And then, gods help her, she was smiling. “Are you?”
He didn’t answer. He even looked away as if dismissing her. But he didn’t dismiss. He merely said, “I am not jealous,” his tone quiet, calm. “But I think I would kill even my own brother, if I had one, if you decided to take him as a lover.”
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