by Kim Knox
“Don’t fight it.” His words were strained as his fingers slid deep, and he found a fast stroke that matched her increasing pulse. “Take it all.”
“Heyerdar...”
He growled against her breast and, before she could protest, he’d pinned her to the bed and buried himself deep within her. She cried out, ripping magic from him in protest. Quick pain surged into pleasure but she bared her teeth at him. “Bastard.”
“I am.”
His mouth took hers and he drove pleasure into her body, spreading her thighs so that he could push deep, deep into her with every hard thrust.
Ava fought to breathe, to think, but there was only the increasing tumult of joy, of wildness, of the surge of his magic refilling her, making her empty soul brim over with power.
She broke her mouth from his, her breathing harsh and fast. The tension in her belly made her meet every stroke, cling to him, demand more, taste his skin and ache to do more than taste. To feel his blood and bone in her mouth. The hated thief. But the promise of how good it would feel, hot and sweet, blending with the delicious weight of his magic...
The first promise of her impending release caught her. She grabbed it. Wanting it to burst over her, wipe everything but pleasure from her mind.
“That’s it.” Heyerdar growled against her ear, his voice quick and fast. “Enjoy what you are. Devour me. Tear my skin. My flesh.”
His strokes became uneven. He was close, his magic a thick feast. She dug her nails into his muscled back, enjoying his brief hiss of pain and imagining the cuts into his skin, the spill of blood that she could lap—
Her release exploded through her body, sweeping away everything, blistering her mind with joy. Her cry burst from her, an unintelligible mix of “Heyerdar” and cursing. She clung to him, riding out the echoes, and he pushed hard to his own release. His magic smashed into her and flared another violent rush of joy across her flesh.
Heyerdar rolled onto his side and crushed her to him, his lips in her tangled hair, his heart thudding against her ear. He fought to breathe. “You are just...” His large hand squeezed her backside and he ground himself against her. “Good.”
Ava let out a satisfied laugh, but bitterness edged it. “A good thief?”
He turned onto his back, taking her with him. She yelped, clinging to him, trying to find her balance. The blankets fell away, and her hands splayed across the hard beauty of his stomach. She had to stroke her fingers over the texture of his skin, satin roughened with hair.
He caught her hands with his. “You’re a thief.” Magic painted him in the flickering shadows of the room, and her empty soul still ached to take him. “Sink your teeth into me.”
Ava stiffened. She didn’t want that reminder. She was supposed to be forgetting, pushing mages and thieves, high and old magic from her mind. Not sinking into the worst of what she was. Saying it in the wild heat of sex was one thing. Devouring him now? Was this his way of trying to push her new knowledge from her mind? She...couldn’t.
He ran a nail across the hard muscle of his chest and hissed as he cut a line through his skin. Blood beaded at the surface, before the skin beneath it swiftly healed. The thief in her surged against her control. She could take him...endlessly. The promise of his flesh, the hint of sweetness mixing with the joy of this magic, tested every ounce of her will.
“Bastard.” Her body swayed. She growled at him and he grinned. “You really want this?”
“You need this.” His fingers fisted in her hair, urging her closer. “Lick.”
The tip of her tongue tasted him...and his blood burned sharp and pure. Her teeth grazed, marking his skin, drawing more. It washed across her lips, slicked her tongue. He tasted... She groaned. He tasted incredible. She had to stop herself from sinking her teeth deep, from tearing and gnawing at his living flesh.
Instead, she pushed back against him, riding him, her mouth finding a new, perfect stretch of skin and hard muscle. Another bite, another rock against him, another surge of magic into her empty soul.
Heyerdar swore under his breath, his hands hard on her hips, urging her faster. “More.”
Her mouth was hot with his blood, the taste of his skin. She needed to devour him. Whole. Blood and bones and magic. All of him. Inside her. The tension twisted in her belly, the need to fuck him hard ripping her teeth from his delicious skin. He would heal. And she could have him again. And again.
She met his gaze, everything that she was on fire with power and need. She tore the magic from him, golden swathes swirling into her flesh. Heyerdar moaned, his body taut under hers, his hands bruising her hips.
“Only we can do this.” He thrust up to meet her downward push. “Shit. I should’ve fucked every thief I laid my hands on.”
Ava laughed, the wild pulse of joy, of the slick heat of his blood on her tongue, the satisfaction of sinking her sharp teeth into his firm muscle. “Make me feel special, Heyerdar.”
His molten gaze snapped to her, and the heat and power in it held her. She had to have every delicious stretch of skin, of flesh, of bone. She’d devour him and leave nothing, nothing of him behind. Her chest heaved, the thief in her pushing against her control, desperate to be free.
“Yes.” A low growl rippled from him. He grabbed her hair, holding her to his bloodied chest. The iron scent of his blood made her heart pound. “I want the thief.”
She grinned at him, knowing that the darkness at her core burned from her. Heyerdar didn’t look away. Instead, he matched her grin. The heavy pulse of the thief drove her thoughts, whispering how she could bite and lick and suck him. Devour him.
“What are you waiting for?”
Ava snarled and leapt.
* * *
Ava woke up hot and bound. She struggled against a heavy weight, fighting to breathe and not to panic. And what was that scent? Skin and...sex. Fuck. Sex. Sex with Heyerdar. Amazing sex with Heyerdar.
“It’s not yet morning.” He teased the length of her spine, laughing as it forced her to arch into him. “But I can feel the push of the sun. Time to replenish my strength.”
He rolled away from her and climbed from the bed. He stretched. Firelight licked around him, moving with the slow ripple of the muscles in his back. Her deep teeth marks lined his shoulders and bruised his upper arms. Yes, he needed fresh energy to heal. The taste of his skin, the hint of flesh and the sweet stickiness of his blood still lingered on her tongue.
Everything about him was delicious. It was fucking irritating.
Heyerdar laughed as he pulled up his trousers. “Don’t deny that you enjoyed every moment in my bed.” He tugged on his undershirt. “I’ve given you experience Reist will enjoy.”
Ava resisted the urge to tug the rumpled cover over her head to hide the burn in her cheeks. They’d been in his bed since the middle of the afternoon. His staff had delivered food, but she’d only nibbled. The thief in her was sated on a glut of blood and magic. Her duty, the deaths, the thieves in the city, not even Reist had been as important as staying naked with Heyerdar. Not once she had his skin, his flesh, hot in her mouth. She shivered, trying to push the vividness of his taste from her thoughts. The yawning emptiness of her soul was only a flicker, and magic glowed hot and thick under her skin. She wanted to keep it that way.
“You need to watch me, little thief.”
“I’ve seen you naked a lot.”
“And how did you feel...?” He grinned at her as her face burned. Bastard. “Before I fucked you.”
Ava frowned. How had she felt? Every morning she’d watched him with her tea and whatever Reist had brought to her. A ritual that spanned years. She blinked. A ritual that Reist had initially encouraged... What had he known? Old magic working with itself? “Your movements calmed me.”
He nodded and buckled on his sword belt. “I’ve always felt you w
atching me. What we were bound us, long before this.”
“He never said. You never said.”
Heyerdar shrugged, loose and disinterested, and she wanted to thump him again. “You’re a creature of the Right Hand.” His gaze slid down her body, but it wasn’t edged with lust. “Control your magic while you have it. I can take it from you just as easily as I gave it.”
Ava stared at her hands. They’d balled into fists and golden flames licked across her knuckles, the warm, earthy smell of its power sinking into her lungs. She pulled on her center, letting its darkness calm her and consume the angry fire in her veins. “So you’ll take it away with this strange power you have over me.” She climbed out of the bed, too aware that she was naked but refusing to rush for her clothes. Still, it was a relief to pull on the long undershirt. “Whatever that is.”
“Ava.”
Her head jerked up, her heart pounding. Her name. He’d said her name. The thief in her surged and she wanted, she wanted him. All of him. Right then. His gaze was molten, pure fire, and his beauty gripped her. She was his. Her body swayed and she ached for him to tell her what to do, to order her to spread herself on his bed so that he could fuck her any and every way—
“See?”
Ava staggered back, her spine hitting the wall. Pain ripped under her skin and she swore. “What did you do to me?”
“I took your virginity. You’re mine to do with as I please.” He tilted his head and the darkness in his gaze roused her thief again. Not from lust, but from fear. “I told you. You have to be careful what you offer an elemental. What you have to be prepared to lose.”
“So what now?” She dragged on her trousers, anger making her movements jerky. He was enjoying this, probably just as much as fucking her. “You say my name and watch me drool?”
Her heart stopped. Was it some sort of revenge against Reist? Had he planted the treatise beside her desk? Had he put into motion her idea to use him to bring Fallon back to him? She’d not picked up any depth of thought or feeling from him through his magic since the night in the Moon Chamber. She hated the quick twist in her gut. Had it all been about Fallon? She glanced back at the rumpled sheets, the memory of pleasure and...tenderness through the wildness souring. All of it?
Ava stamped her feet into her boots. “The sun’s waiting, Heyerdar.”
She looped her sword belt across her hips, ran her fingers through her tangled hair and left the bedroom. After she watched him—and she would watch him, because whatever existed between them did calm her—she’d head back to her room. A wash and clean underwear and concentrating hard to wrap herself up in her coldness had to follow. Heyerdar had used her. She’d been honest. He’d been a lying, conniving shit. And which of them was supposed to be the one no one trusted?
Chapter Twelve
Heyerdar moved past her without a word, his sword thumping against his thigh. He set a harsh pace and she had to scramble to follow. They stayed silent through the twists and turns that led to the arena. He didn’t even speak as he hung his sword belt on a worn hook and stripped. The first touch of grey dawn light offered her another glimpse of his body.
Ava stepped back into the shadows of the tunnel and let them hold her. She watched him walk out onto the cold sand, his face already turned to the curtain wall. Some of what she’d experienced with him had blasted back over Fallon. Would it make any difference to that woman?
Heyerdar moved, the intricate twists and turns working their strange magic over her. Her heart calmed. Everything since she’d woken up had been shitty. Fucked over. But watching him move, the slow and certain perfection of every muscle, and the gathering light on his healing skin eased her breath. Old magic working on her.
She blinked, a strange sensation pulling at her soothed nerves. Already the sun bathed Heyerdar in her brilliance, the final, familiar rhythms of his body flowing to a stop. How much time had she lost?
“Hello again, Ava.”
She squinted back into the shadows of the tunnel. Had someone said her name...? Someone tall stood there, something familiar in his shape, the scent of him in the air. Not a thief. Not a mage.
Magic burned and bristled at the tips of her fingers. A fierce, golden light, as bright as the noon sun, filled the tunnel and revealed the man. He hadn’t moved. He didn’t even squint. Simply stood silent, his leather armor thick with road dust and a heavy hand on the pommel of his long sword. He tilted his head.
Too familiar.
“Who are you?” Ava flexed her fingers, the protection of shadows no longer hers. Magic coursed through her body. She had enough power to work any spell she could imagine.
The stranger’s gaze traveled over her. “You’ve grown, Ava.”
She jumped as Heyerdar’s meaty hand gripped her arm.
He pushed her behind him. “The question should be what are you?” Anger lined his voice and his own magic, thick and hot, burned under his skin.
The man gave a taut smile. “There was a sweetness to her. You explain it.”
“Explain what?” Heyerdar pulled his sword free of its sheath. The slow slide of polished metal against leather filled the silence. “I’m in no mood for more games.”
Heyerdar was naked, but the anger surging from him, the power of an elemental, made Ava shrink back against the wall. The stranger seemed...unconcerned. Did he not consider a naked man a threat? He had to be insane. Instead, the man stared around the tunnel mouth, still lit by Ava’s glowing hands.
“I like this place. Magic fills it, shrouds it.” His low voice, as dark as him, warmed through her. Why, she didn’t understand. “Perfect to hide all manner of things.”
Heyerdar pushed the tip of his sword under the man’s chin, forcing it up. “I am the Left Hand of the Emperor.” The words came out on a growl. “I can kill you here. Quite...officially.”
The man looked to Ava. “I brought her here. A wild thing, living on rats in the Uiane hinterland.” He flexed his arm. “She took a chunk out of me.” His smile twisted, but there was something in his dark gaze and Heyerdar pushed his sword tip hard against his jaw. Blood trickled. “I fed her.”
Heyerdar stilled. “You what?”
“I gave her enough of myself to wipe out her early years. How she’d lived.” He pushed a gloved hand against the sword’s edge and Heyerdar let it fall away. “I brought her here. With an elemental in her body, she found harmony. Balance.”
He was the brackish taste in her mouth when she remembered elementals. The magic in her hands sputtered as her nerves ate up what power remained. Heyerdar had filled her...but her soul was always empty, had to consume everything he gave her. Light grew again, revealing the man, magic grown from Heyerdar.
Ava focused on the stranger. She felt the push of magic in him, subtly different from Heyerdar. He had the same sense of open spaces, but there was a coolness, a light freshness that washed over her. She frowned. She didn’t remember anything about him, only his taste, his blood and flesh in her mouth. She hadn’t fucked him—Heyerdar was evidence of that—but had she done something else?
Her life was growing stranger—and shittier—by the moment.
Heyerdar took another step towards the man. “Who are you?”
The stranger let out a slow breath. “I’ve been here before. Circumstance made it necessary I leave you here too.”
Heyerdar growled and the sword was back at the man’s throat. “I want your name now!”
“Zarand Heyerdar.” His grin was taunting. “Hello, brother.”
“Brother?”
“I couldn’t look after you. A squalling toddler.” Zarand stepped back from the sword, his grin widening. “And I knew when she fed on me, that she wasn’t quite...right. Something for my little brother to chew on, perhaps?”
His gaze moved to her and the dark gleam, so different from Hey
erdar’s molten gold, twisted her gut. Anger formed. She wasn’t a fucking plaything for these men.
She fought the need to bolt, to get away. Zarand presented a unique opportunity for her to find out about the hole that was her past. She willed herself to relax. “What do you know about me?”
Heyerdar stiffened. “He doesn’t know anything.”
Zarand pressed his lips together and his dark gaze was mocking. “Her family were mercenaries for a Uiane warlord, Ewald Iron-Hand.” The corner of his mouth ticked upwards and the action was too familiar. Her heart thudded. “Brilliant, ruthless...but in the end neither he nor your family was a match against the ambitions of a certain prince.”
“Balint.” Heyerdar almost spat the name.
Balint. His Imperial Highness, Prince Morgant Balint Cadmus, the emperor’s first heir. Dead six years and unlamented. He’d terrorized the northern lands, too eager to show the power he would one day wield. Rumor had it his own men had turned on him. Another that his father had ordered his execution in some barbarian field. Her gaze flicked to Heyerdar’s tense shoulders. And yet another that the Left Hand had brought him back to the city in secret and buried him alive beneath the palace.
Whatever the truth was, Balint’s body had never been found. At that moment, she was pleased. Her anger against the man drove threads of darkness under her skin. She doubted she would’ve been able to leave his grave intact.
“I survived?”
“You said your mother told you to run, to escape. You were eleven.”
Ava blinked. Five years? She’d lived five years on her own, eating rats with the memory of being the only survivor of a massacre. She’d asked for ignorance and Zarand had given her it. She frowned and took a step forwards. “Why did you help me?”
“You’re staying right there.” Heyerdar pulled her back to him. His attention never moved from Zarand. “What do you want now? Got another stray for the city?”