by Kate Baxter
“Tell me, Sasha. Exactly how many males follow in your wake? I should give up the battle arena completely and devote my time to killing your admirers instead.”
Gods, but he was a frightening sight. Angry red welts and large blisters raised his flesh. Dried blood from injuries that had long since healed stained nearly every inch of his clothing that was torn from where daggers no doubt pierced through cloth and muscle, down to the bone. Sasha cringed. Her body ached with the ghost of pain he’d endured at the hands of those sadistic bastards. If she could, Sasha would kill every last demon on the face of the earth. Her anger, her indignation, her need for vengeance burned through her. If not for Ewan’s weakened state, she would’ve geared up, and gone out to hunt down the creatures that had done this to him.
Ewan looked like the walking dead, and all he was concerned about were the males Sasha kept company with? Good gods.
“I think you should be more concerned with the demons that burned and beat you bloody tonight.”
“Who is the male, Sasha?”
Sasha swallowed down an exasperated growl. She’d never known a more stubborn creature than Ewan Brún. “You should be in bed, resting. Not worrying about whoever the hell I choose to be friends with.”
A deep groove cut into Ewan’s forehead and Sasha could practically feel the heat of his rising temper. She shouldn’t have to explain herself to him. About anything. She didn’t have to justify who she chose to be friends with, male, female, or anything in between. They weren’t a couple. They weren’t anything. Ewan had tethered her soul, but for the most part he acted as though he couldn’t care less. The bond between them meant nothing to him. So why did he give a single shit who Lucas was?
“Who—is—he?”
Had he not already been beaten half to death, Sasha would’ve been tempted to do the deed herself. He aggravated her like no other could. Sparked her ire. Ignited her desire. Her heart ached for him, for everything he’d endured, his undoubtedly harsh existence. And on the rare occasion he graced her with a smile, her chest felt full to bursting and she nearly choked on the flood of emotions he invoked in her. She didn’t know if she loved Ewan, but right now she definitely didn’t like him.
“Lucas is my friend.” In truth, she didn’t owe him any explanation. But she needed him to calm the hell down and get his ass back to bed so he could start to heal. “He helped me get you back to the apartment tonight.”
“He was with you? At the battle arena?” He took several menacing steps toward her and Sasha’s heart leapt up into her throat. He’d been unconscious by the time she’d gotten to him, but apparently he’d been awake and aware before the demons dumped him off at the battle arena. “What in the hell were you doing there, Sasha? And what was he doing there with you?”
“I was looking for you.” She could hardly tell him the truth. That she’d planned to hunt down the demons that had threatened them and kill every last one.
“And you needed your friend to do that?”
He took another step toward her, and another. The living room was tiny, barely ten feet across. The length of his stride closed the distance between them until only a couple of feet separated them. An electric charge sparked the air, turning Sasha’s blood to smoke as her heart beat a mad rhythm in her chest. No male had ever excited her the way Ewan did. With nothing more than his proximity, a heated look, he could get to her.
“After our last encounter with the demons, I thought it would be a good idea to bring backup.”
“Is that so?” His tone remained dead serious, but the fathomless black began to fade from his eyes to reveal the light golden brown she loved so much. He took another step closer, and Sasha had to tilt her head up to look at him.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to get me to admit, Ewan.” She hated games, and refused to play his. “Instead of worrying about where I was and why, maybe we should be talking about what happened to you tonight.”
His jaw squared. “What were you doing at the battle arena tonight, Sasha?”
Bastard. He just had to be stubborn. Had to be argumentative. Had to be suspicious and make trouble where there wasn’t any. Sasha reached back and gripped the door handle. She was five seconds from ordering him to get the hell out. She didn’t need this crap. Her concern for him had prompted her to go out tonight. To hunt. To do whatever it took to protect him. And instead of letting it go, Ewan insisted on picking a fight where there wasn’t one.
“I already told you, and I’m not going to tell you again.”
Ewan leaned in close and put his nose just below Sasha’s ear. He inhaled deeply and a shiver raced over Sasha’s skin. “You smell of him.” The words ended on a low, menacing growl. “Go wash it off.”
Seriously? Of all the high-handed, alpha-male bullshit. Sasha bucked her chin up a notch. “No.” He was being ridiculous and she wasn’t about to reinforce his behavior by complying.
“Don’t test me, Sasha. Get in the shower. Now.”
“Piss off, Ewan.” She couldn’t believe she’d been so worried about him earlier.
He reached out and grabbed her, incredibly fast for someone who’d nearly been beaten and burned to death earlier in the night. Sasha sucked in a gasp of breath as he hoisted her up and deposited her over his shoulder. He let out a grunt of pain and for a moment, she almost felt sorry for him. But this was self-inflicted. He didn’t need to toss her over his shoulder and carry her to the gods-knew-where for whatever foolish reason. And frankly, she was getting tired of him chucking her around like a sack of grain. Ewan deserved what he was getting. Screw him.
“If you’re not going to wash that bastard’s smell off of you, I’ll do it myself.”
What in the hell was wrong with him? He’d nearly been killed tonight, was badly burned and blistered, and the most pressing thing on Ewan’s mind was how she smelled? “Put me down, Ewan.” She was getting pretty damned tired of the way he thought he could just haul her around when she didn’t do what he wanted to when he wanted her to do it. “Now!”
He strode through the bathroom door and deposited her in the shower. He turned the knob, and Sasha gasped as the icy cold spray hit her. She stood there, stunned, shivering and unable to move. The water began to warm and she watched as Ewan undressed.
“Take your clothes off. If I have to smell him for one more second, I’m going to hunt him down and kill him. Is that what you want?”
As though she had no control over her own motor functions, Sasha’s hands began to move and she undressed. She told herself over and again that Ewan didn’t scare her. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Because despite his childish attitude, he excited her. And it was absolutely terrifying
* * *
Sasha was his. And any creature on the face of this earth that sought to take her away from him would meet a cruel and violent end. Tonight had seriously fucked him up. He’d always thought no one could be as nasty or enjoy dispensing pain as much as Ian Gregor. He’d been wrong. The demons had beat him mercilessly. They’d fucked with his mind. Cut him, nearly bled him dry, stabbed and pummeled him. They’d used daggers, clubs, knives, and their own damned fists. They’d burned him with hellfire. Scorched the skin from his bones and waited for him to heal so they could start all over again. And through it all, they promised him that if he didn’t play ball, didn’t step into the battle arena prepared to lose, that Sasha’s torture would be a thousandfold to what he’d experienced tonight.
She will suffer for eternity. He shuddered at the memory of the demon’s hot, seething breath in his ear.
He was in pain, angry, worried, frustrated, and pissed the hell off. So yeah, it didn’t do much for his temper to come out of that bedroom, worried sick for Sasha, to find another male leaned in toward her, his mouth on her skin. The vampire’s scent lingered on Sasha and Ewan wanted it gone. Now. He was out of his fucking mind and nothing short of decimating all of his enemies—whether perceived or not—would calm him down. Then again, Sasha’s naked body
was a damned good substitute for murder.
His entire life had spiraled out of his control. At least here, with her, he could gain a little of that back.
Goose bumps peppered Sasha’s skin and her nipples stood out from the gorgeous swells of her breasts. Ewan quickly stripped, grimacing at the shock of pain as his clothes scraped against his still tender and burned flesh. As the water began to warm, the bathroom filled with steam. Even that little bit of warmth was excruciating but he would endure that and more to feel Sasha’s naked body pressed against his. He stepped under the spray and his jaw clenched. It hurt like a motherfucker but gods-damn it, he was going to suck it the fuck up and stay right where he was.
Sasha stared up at him. Silent. Her eyes wide and almost fearful. Ewan wished he could be softer. More gentle. Calm and expressive of his feelings. But he was none of those things and never would be. He was a warlord. Hard. Cruel. Demanding. And right now, he demanded nothing less than Sasha’s sweet, clean cinnamon scent. Untainted by another male.
“Stay still.” Ewan murmured the words next to Sasha’s ear as he stepped between her and the spray of water and reached past her to grab the bar of soap. He lathered the bar between his hands before he began to wash her. He forced his own pain to the back of his mind as he slowly and meticulously ran the bar of soap over his mate’s bare skin.
Ewan paused. Mate. It was the second time he’d truly thought of Sasha as such. Any mating instincts had been beaten out of the berserkers centuries ago. The loss of their females had irreparably changed them. Or so they’d thought. With every passing day, that instinct not only returned, but grew. Sasha was his. His to care for, protect, love. She’d gotten under his skin, infused herself into his blood. She was ingrained in the very cells that constructed him. Sasha was his mate. And as such, Ewan’s life, his very existence, was sworn to her.
“Ewan.” His name left her lips on a whisper. Her body relaxed with every touch, and the tension that had pulled her muscles taut melted away. Her lips parted invitingly and Ewan abandoned the task at hand to put his mouth to hers. The kiss was feather light. A glancing of his lips to hers and it awakened his desire.
“Sasha.” He’d never been an articulate male. He was a warrior, not a poet. Didn’t share his feelings. He desperately wanted to soften his sharp edges. For her. He wanted her to never have reason to wander away from him. He wanted Sasha to have everything she deserved and more. He had nothing to give her. No possessions. No status. All he could offer was his words. “I wish I could make you understand my nature.” He continued to wash her, gentle passes of his hands over her skin, as he spoke low next to her ear. “The only thing that terrifies me more than the scent of your fear, is knowing I’m the one who caused it.”
Another twinge of pain fired his nerve endings and Ewan sucked in a sharp breath. Sasha pulled away to look at him, her brow furrowed. “Gods, Ewan.” She brought her hands up as though she would touch him but thought better of it. “Hot water on burns? This has to be excruciating.”
Sasha turned, quickly switching their positions so the water hit her back. Cool air kissed his naked flesh and he let out a sigh of relief. His gaze wandered over Sasha’s glorious body and he watched, transfixed, as the sudsy water sluiced from her shoulders to her feet. He reached out and cupped the weight of one perfect breast in his palm. Sasha’s eyes became hooded as he brushed his thumb over her stiff nipple. He was drawn to her like a moth to flame. And as evidenced by his current state, he was willing to endure the burn. Anything for her.
Sasha brought her wrist to her mouth and bit down. The sound of her skin giving way beneath her fangs caused Ewan’s gut to clench. Crimson ribbons of blood trickled down her forearm as she raised her wrist to his mouth. “Drink.”
Drink? Was she seriously suggesting what he thought she was? Gregor would have both their heads if he knew what she suggested. And yet, Ewan was intrigued.
“It’ll help. I think. Your blood is a healing elixir to me, why shouldn’t mine be one for you?”
He’d never considered it. Hell, it had never even crossed his mind. He worried, not over the effect it would have on him, but rather that Gregor would smell it on him. He couldn’t afford to do anything that would further put Sasha in the path of danger. “I shouldn’t.” But gods, how he wanted to. Some wanton part of him needed to know her taste. Wanted to experience the thing she needed to survive.
“What’s the matter?” A corner of Sasha’s mouth curved into an enticing smile. “Afraid?”
He couldn’t help but smile. He fucking loved her fire. Without another thought to the consequences, Ewan snatched her wrist in his grip and brought it to his lips. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he opened his mouth and sealed it over the punctures. Sasha’s head rolled back on her shoulders as she let out an indulgent moan. Ewan had never realized drinking her blood could be as pleasurable for her as drinking from another. Her blood flowed over his tongue, not quite sweet but not as tannic as he expected. He increased the suction and the thick warmth of her blood coated his tongue. Ewan swallowed as his grip on her wrists tightened. He swayed on his feet, lightheaded as a pleasant buzz settled over his brain. He felt like laughing. Shouting his elation to the sky. He was fucking drunk. Drunk on Sasha. Drunk on the blood she offered him and the euphoric rush it gave him.
The pain that wracked his body, his many injuries, and every worry that plagued him disappeared. His mouth left her wrist as he pulled her tight against his body. His free hand went to the back of her head that he urged against his throat. He didn’t need words to convey what he wanted. Her fangs struck out and pierced his flesh and Ewan’s cock throbbed in time with his racing heartbeat. Fire ignited in his veins, along his nerve endings, bathing him in intense pleasure. With every powerful pull of her mouth he lost himself further. To her. To the moment. To the sensations that crashed over him. He never wanted it to end.
“I need to fuck you, Sasha. Now.”
He couldn’t wait another gods-damn second. If he didn’t take her, didn’t feel her warm, slick heat encase his cock, he’d go out of his mind. He reached for her ass, prepared to hoist her up against the shower wall and fuck her soundly. Sasha reached up between them and put a staying hand on his chest, so gentle as she continued to feed from his vein. Ewan stilled. His chest heaved with breath and he trembled with need. But Sasha wanted him to wait. And he’d wait for as damned long as she wanted him to.
She owned him. Body. Mind. Soul. And even … his heart. Ewan was in love with Sasha, and the realization shook him to his core.
CHAPTER
29
Ewan had fed from Sasha’s vein. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t necessary for his survival, it had solidified the bond between them. Secured their tether and made it unbreakable. She’d felt the change almost in an instant. Any hope she’d had at keeping Ewan at a distance was obliterated. The tether was absolute. Sasha was a fool to have ever thought she could simply put her emotions on a shelf and disregard him.
He wanted her. Now. She sensed his urgency without the words to back it up and yet she dared to place a staying hand on his chest. Since the night they’d met, they’d been slaves to their urgent need for one another. Each and every time, Sasha had given herself to him with abandon. For once, she wanted to take things slowly. She wanted to be in control. And she wanted to take her time in pleasuring him.
Sasha pulled away to inspect Ewan’s many burns. Remnants of fear trickled into her bloodstream at the realization that such a seemingly indestructible creature could sustain such damage. The blisters had already begun to heal, and the angry welts that marred his skin were no longer red and were finally fading. Sasha didn’t know whether or not her blood contributed to it. She was simply glad to see an improvement.
He might’ve been healing, but she didn’t dare touch him. She didn’t want to do anything to undermine the progress he’d already made and neither did she want to cause him pain. Sasha eased him to the rear of the shower where the spray bare
ly touched them. Their eyes met for a quick moment before she lowered herself to her knees before him. Ewan was built like a god, and Sasha was eager to worship him.
She took the rigid length of his cock in her hand and stroked from the swollen tip to the base. Ewan sucked in a breath and she looked up at him from lowered lashes to find his golden brown gaze alight with an intense fire that nearly stole her breath. She leaned in, and her tongue touched all of the places her hand had just been as she licked from the base all the way up to the tip.
“Gods, Sasha. That feels so good.”
The deep gravel of Ewan’s voice spurred her on. She came up higher on her knees, closed her mouth over his erection, and sucked deeply. Ewan’s hips bucked and he let out a groan. Sasha savored the taste of him as she pulled back before sliding her mouth down his length once again. She allowed the points of her fangs to lightly scrape along his sensitive flesh and he shuddered. A satisfied smile curved her lips. Pleasuring Ewan was a high unlike any other. A rush that had no equal. A deep, throbbing ache settled in her pussy and she didn’t need to reach between her legs to know she was slick and wet with desire. Simply being in Ewan’s orbit was enough to turn her on. He didn’t have to do a single thing, didn’t need to speak a single word to ignite her passion.
She settled into an easy rhythm, enjoying the slide of him against her lips. She placed a tentative hand on one thigh, careful to keep her touch light. The muscles bunched beneath her palm, sculpted marble. With her other hand, she gripped the base of his cock and gently squeezed as she swirled her tongue over the satin smooth crown.
“Fuuuuck.” The word was a drawn out moan that shot straight between Sasha’s legs. “Suck me deep, love. Gods, do it now.”
Love. Emotion bloomed in her chest. Ewan’s words were half command and half desperate plea. Sasha was helpless to do anything but comply. His fingers threaded through the wet tendrils of her hair as he urged her where he needed her to go. He was careful not to exert too much pressure. Not to thrust too deep. It was perfect. He was perfect.