Blind Hearts and Silenced Passion

by Anya Byrne

  He was wickedly proud of the fact that he managed to surprise his lover to the point where Baqir reeled back with a shocked gasp. It wasn't easy to shock a silencer, and Remy wanted to give Baqir that—to make his mate's life exciting, but in a good way. Baqir seemed so genuinely befuddled by his demand that he hit the sink of the small bathroom. By some miracle, he managed not to destroy the item, but the porcelain did make an alarming sound that made Remy suspect it would need urgent repairs once the plane landed.

  "Careful now," he said. "Is the idea of mating me so horrifying that you're willing to tear the plane down just to escape it?"

  He was only half-teasing, since no matter what a light-hearted approach he might try to take to his request, the fact remained that it meant a lot to him. So far, Baqir's response hadn't been positive, so as much as he tried, Remy couldn't fully keep the hurt from his voice.

  His mate must have noticed—although it was quite likely pretty easy to spot. "It's not that," he said quickly. "You must know I want you. It's just… You deserve so much better."

  Had Remy's teasing comment about the mile high club made his mate so apprehensive? Remy cursed himself for a fool. "And you must realize that I don't actually care where we are, as long as we're together."

  Baqir smiled, but it was a tiny twist of lips that held more self-loathing and sadness than genuine amusement or hope. "I didn't necessary mean better than this, although that's certainly the case. I meant…"

  He trailed off, as if unable to finish the phrase. He didn't have to continue speaking, though, because Remy heard the rest of what he'd intended to say in the ensuing silence, saw it in Baqir's eyes. His mate had meant 'better than me'.

  "Back in Paris… You said you wanted to be with me, to fix things, to spend time together and get to know one another. Is that no longer the case?"

  "Of course it is," Baqir answered, clenching his fists.

  "Well, then…That settles that. I have what I want and what I deserve."

  To make his point clear, Remy grabbed Baqir's arm and pulled the other wolf close, even closer than before. This time, when their mouths met, the kiss was gentle, almost chaste, and filled with the certainty that, despite everything, despite the fact that they were in the least romantic location imaginable, this was and would always be right.

  They didn't have the space to touch everywhere they would have wanted, but they made do. Even as they kissed, Remy snaked his hand between their bodies and reached for the buttons of his mate's jeans. Baqir groaned against his mouth as Remy slid his fist inside and gripped Baqir's shaft. There were definite advantages to the fact that Baqir seemed to avoid underwear at all costs. And oh, it felt so good to touch Baqir like this, so intimately, to feel his heat and the desire pulsing through him, feeding Remy's own lust.

  Baqir bit his lower lip, and the lazy build-up between them shattered into something obscenely visceral, carnal, passionate, insane. The drive to take and give became too powerful to contain, and Remy moved his hand up and down Baqir's erection, just as desperate for his mate's pleasure as he was for his own.

  Baqir's larger bulk pinned him against the door, and Remy had some trouble with his self-appointed task. The natural conclusion was very easy to reach, and it didn't take much thought for Remy to tear away from the kiss and drop to his knees.

  Yes, breaking their lip-lock was a sacrifice—no kiss had ever felt as good as Baqir's—but it was worth it in the end, oh so worth it. Remy took his lover's dick into his mouth and moaned as Baqir's flavor exploded on his taste buds. Above him, Baqir gasped his name, and hearing those two syllables in the raspy tone of Baqir's voice went to Remy's head more than any aphrodisiac that had ever been created.

  Baqir gave him some time to explore, and Remy used every single second to his—and Baqir's—satisfaction, licking and teasing, sucking and caressing, while also fondling Baqir's balls. Baqir's control over his own body seemed absolute, but Remy planned on undoing it, and every twitch and grunt was a reward, made him feel powerful and desired. It all reached a point of sheer perfection when Remy managed to take Baqir's dick all the way into his throat and swallowed. It was what finally shattered Baqir's composure.

  Suddenly, Remy found himself immobilized, Baqir's strong hands holding him in place. He breathed through his nose, groaning at the pleasure coursing through him at the feel of being so absolutely overpowered. And then, Baqir started to move—and it was Remy's turn to succumb, to lose all sense of who and where he was in the glide, the taste, the heat and the strength.

  Had he thought it had felt good before? Well, Remy supposed he'd been correct—but this was so much better. Moon be blessed, he could easily become addicted to this, to the feel of his mate's cock heavy on his tongue, fucking his throat. Now that he had let go, Baqir was completely ruthless, claiming Remy just like he had asked.

  Unable to stop himself, Remy reached for the buttons of his own jeans and freed his aching cock. He was already impossibly close to coming even if he hadn't touched himself at all. A few strokes would be enough, he knew.

  He never got the chance to go through with what he had in mind. All of a sudden, Baqir pulled his dick out of Remy's mouth. Robbed of his prize, Remy abandoned his original plan in favor of trying to reach for Baqir again. His mate had other ideas.

  Moving faster than should have been possible even for a werewolf, Baqir picked Remy up from the floor. For one horrible instant, Remy thought that he would be rejected, but no such thing happened. Instead, Baqir became a whirlwind of action and determination, getting rid of Remy's shoes and jeans in record time. He didn't bother with the rest of Remy's garments. Once he had access to Remy's nether regions, he lifted Remy in his arms and supported him against the wall.

  Remy instinctively wrapped his legs around his mate's waist, all the while holding onto Baqir's shoulders. Baqir's eyes were so dark they pinned him in place with their almost feral intensity, and Remy knew exactly what was going to happen.

  He still gasped when Baqir positioned his cock at his entrance and pushed. The invasion hurt, since Baqir hadn't actually stretched Remy and the only thing he had to slick up the way was saliva. Remy loved every beautifully torturous moment of it. In fact, he'd have probably impaled himself on Baqir's dick if his mate hadn't been in complete control—this time of Remy, if not of himself. Baqir kept the pace slow, giving Remy time to adjust. The end result was that layers and layers of sensation piled on top of each other, both giving him what he wanted and cruelly teasing him. And then, Baqir's dick finally brushed Remy's prostate, and Remy just barely had the presence of mind to cover his mouth with one hand and suppress the scream that rushed out of him.

  It wasn't necessarily that the pleasure surprised him. In a way, he had expected it—how could he not? But at the same time, the memory of what they'd shared before seemed foggy and pale when compared to what they were experiencing now. There was something insanely decadent about having sex in an airplane filled with passengers, and the voices of the people passing the door that supported Remy's half-naked body made the entire moment more intimate. He wondered if anyone knew, if they had seen. Then again, they didn't have to, since he so obviously belonged to Baqir that actually witnessing it was unnecessary.

  Baqir brushed his lips against Remy's own in a ghost of a kiss that was strikingly gentle given what they were doing. But then, Baqir was a person of contrasts, so maybe, it was suitable. Either way, Remy couldn't think about it for too long—and soon, he couldn't think at all. He could only feel, and feel he did, embracing the burn, the heat, the passion, the strength and the overall rightness of Baqir's touch.

  Baqir started to move in and out of him, and Remy had a flash of realization, understanding that his mate was just as lost in this as him. After that, everything was instinct, the push, the glide of flesh, their bodies moving against one another, coming together. Somehow, even if they hadn't fully taken their clothes off, it was perfect. Soon, Remy couldn't focus enough to cover his mouth anymore. Perhaps he coul
dn't bring himself to care, not when his mate could find a much better use for his mouth.

  At some level, Remy knew carnal satisfaction would never suffice. This awareness lay thick and heavy between them, their kisses and touches electric, charged with a sensual tension that made every breath a challenge, a sweet burden that buried them in a world of their own making.

  Instinct made him tilt his head back and offer himself to his mate. This time, Baqir didn't hesitate. He simply struck, burying his fangs in Remy's throat. Orgasm swallowed Remy whole, so intense it went beyond simple, physical pleasure.

  There was just so much to process, too many emotions, too many memories, blending together in an overwhelming whirlpool that consumed them both. The pain they'd buried deep inside resurfaced like a dark specter, and Remy flashed through moments of Baqir's life as a silencer, how and why it had begun, what Baqir had been forced to do, and how difficult some of those things had been. It blended with the recollections of Remy's time without his eyesight, and it would have been so easy to lose himself in it, so easy for his mind to break under the weight of the bond he'd waited for what seemed like forever. But the pain coupled with the emotions burning new through them, with hope, love and desire, weaving a golden bond that glowed between them like a bridge. They were neither blind nor silenced, not anymore. They were simply... one.

  Their wolves met in the center of it, nipping at one another playfully before they too blended in the nature of their mental link. A voice echoed in Remy's mind, or maybe in his heart. "Mine. My mate."

  Remy couldn't have stayed silent if he'd wanted to. It was too natural to reach out, to brush Baqir's mind with his own. "Yes. Yours."

  He felt Baqir's knot swell inside him again, keeping them bound together, and he was thankful for it, because he wasn't willing to give this up just yet. It was the closest he'd ever been to another person, and the intensity of it humbled him.

  They held onto one another for a while longer, floating in the pleasurable haze. It couldn't last, though, and when they returned to reality, Remy was incredibly jarred. The space in the bathroom seemed far too small to contain what they'd just shared.

  Baqir's knot retreated and he slid out of Remy, leaving him feeling empty. His mate didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. Remy knew Baqir's feelings of self-loathing wouldn't vanish just like that, so he brushed one last kiss over Baqir's lips and threaded their fingers together. His hand came away wet and stained with blood.

  For the first time, he realized Baqir had covered his mouth, which was fortunate, given how loud he must have been. Remy had probably bitten into his palm and broken the skin. Remy analyzed Baqir's hand, but he could see no sign of the injury—it had already healed. "Sorry about that," he said nonetheless. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

  Baqir snorted. "You're kidding, right? I think it's only fair."

  Maybe it was, given that Baqir had claimed Remy through a bite. Just the same, Remy still intended to fully reciprocate. "Well, prepare yourself. Next time, I'll be the one doing the claiming."

  Baqir made a noise that sounded like he was in pain. "Careful there, love, or we might keep the bathroom busy even longer. I think we're already testing the patience of our flight attendants."

  Baqir was right, so Remy did his best to clean up. They managed well enough, better than expected, in fact. His shirt had suffered most from their impromptu romp, since he'd ejaculated all over it, but Baqir offered Remy his jacket to cover the wet spot. They were still ruffled and obviously post-coitus, but at least, they were reasonably decent.

  When they stumbled out of the bathroom at last, they ran straight into a flight attendant who seemed to have been listening in. She glowered at them, and Remy remembered that, as of late, airplane companies no longer viewed lavatory sex as harmless fun. They could even get arrested for it, which, come to think of it, would be a very stupid way to blow their cover.

  "Please refrain from occupying the bathroom for long periods of time, gentlemen," the flight attendant said bitingly. "There are other passengers who wish to access it."

  Remy nodded. "We apologize. We didn't mean any harm."

  The flight attendant didn't seem convinced, but Baqir stepped in. He turned up his fake smile, this time giving it a self-deprecating hint. He lowered his voice for extra effect. "We're newlyweds. You know how it is."

  That husky tone always worked wonders on Remy, and the woman wasn't any different. She blushed and cleared her throat, obviously trying to keep her demeanor professional. "I completely understand, but nonetheless, there are regulations against such behavior."

  Remy gave her a pleading look, and the flight attendant sighed. "Just this once. I don't want to ruin anyone's honeymoon. But please, be more careful in the future."

  Against all odds, nothing more was said of the episode. Remy and Baqir made their way back to their seats. They passed Blanchefleur and Dread. The woman arched a brow at them, but Dread grinned and whispered, "Next time invite me."

  Remy didn't bother addressing that. He knew better than to take such comments from Dread seriously. The man was and would always be a complete enigma, and Remy didn't have the energy to focus on him now, when his interest was completely drawn by Baqir.

  They slid back into their seats, whereupon Remy placed his head on his new mate's shoulder and closed his eyes. His wolf's restlessness had settled into contentment. He had his other half. The rest would come in time. Together, they'd figure everything out and find the person who was at the bottom of this. After all, they'd managed to find one another, and now that they'd bonded, Remy had faith that there was nothing they could not do.

  Chapter Seven

  Baqir had not meant to claim Remy in such a violent way and under circumstances that were so seriously lacking, but he could not bring himself to regret it. The bond gave him a certainty and a determination he might not have had otherwise—because this was not something he had faced before.

  The woman they'd come to see didn't really introduce herself. She was slender and beautiful, her hair tumbling down her shoulders in a fiery curtain. Her office was hidden in what seemed to be a VIP escort club of sorts, but she looked for all the world like a queen when she received them in her lair. Leaning against the back of her seat, she nodded to acknowledge Blanchefleur's presence, arched a brow at Dread, and then fixed her piercing gaze on Remy and Baqir. Baqir felt the sway of her magic rush over him in his bond with Remy. He narrowed his eyes and pushed back, since he didn't appreciate such invasive touches.

  Much to his surprise, she laughed. "Oh, aren't you charming? Very well, I will help you. My name is V. Show me what you have for me."

  Remy had felt the mental prodding too, so he was visibly wary even as he set the seal on their host's wooden desk. Her smile faded so quickly it seemed a different type of magic. "Where did you get that?" she snapped, eyeing the seal like it was a viper about to strike.

  "Off a silencer, decades ago," Remy replied, shooting Baqir an agitated glance. "Why? What is it?"

  "You've had it for decades," she repeated, staring at Remy with something like awe.

  "Well, yes, but I sort of… forgot about it. I didn't think it was anything special until we all realized we each felt something entirely different when we touched it."

  "And what do you feel exactly?" V got up from her seat and made a circle with a finger around the seal, carefully avoiding touching it. "I realize you might be uncomfortable revealing such private details to me, but it's very important."

  "I don't feel anything special," Remy explained once again, much like he had to Baqir. "It burns Blanchefleur and feels icy to Dread. Baqir…"

  He hesitated slightly and peeked at Baqir, a becoming blush dusting over his cheeks. Apparently that was enough for V to figure out what Remy wasn't saying.

  "I see. Well… This is indeed complicated, far more so than I expected. This is a succubus circle."

  "A what?" Blanchefleur asked, vocalizing Baqir's own dilemma.

  "You h
eard me the first time. A succubus circle. It's an artifact of great power usually imbued with the essence of the demon in question. It can guide the emotions and thoughts of weak-willed individuals."

  She peered closer to Remy's face, then scanned Baqir's eyes, as if seeking answers to questions neither of them could hear. Finally, she nodded in satisfaction. "But you two… You're very lucky. Such artifacts are dark magic, and they couldn't touch a heart like Remy's. Your heart, silencer, is protected by your bond with him."

  Suddenly, she was pivoting on her heel, and her nails turned into claws as she pounced on Dread. Even as the silencer went down under her bulk, Blanchefleur was already flying across the room, hitting the wall with an alarming crack. "Not so much with the two of you, isn't that right?"

  Baqir cursed, gripping his blade and pushing Remy behind him. Damn it. He was badly out of his league, if only because he didn't know what he was dealing with. He eyed the exits, wondering if he could get Remy out without passing their host-turned-attacker.

  He should have known better than to even try to make such plans, precisely because of Remy's pure heart that had protected him from the dark magic. Remy made a noise of protest and concern and went around Baqir, obviously planning to stop V. Baqir caught him before he could get too close, but he couldn't keep Remy from speaking.

  "Blanchefleur is the one who told us to come here," his mate said pleadingly. "She and Dread didn't even know about the seal until I pulled it out."

  "Indeed." Somehow V managed to smile, even if her claws were now buried in Dread's shoulder. She didn't actually look at Remy, instead fixing her glance on Dread's face. "Tell me, little puppet, what are you looking for?"

  "You," Blanchefleur blurted out in Dread's stead. "We've played enough of this game. It's time to end it. I'm bored."

  Baqir gaped when he realized it wasn't really Blanchefleur's voice that came out. Indeed, the voice sounded old and dark, beyond anything Baqir had heard even as a wolf-shifter.