Ania sighed at his lame attempt at humor and walked inside.
When Synar looked at Ania standing resolutely in the middle of his room, he saw what he always did when he looked at her. He saw the most beautiful, strong female he’d ever met. She looked uncomfortable facing him, but also brave and determined. His admiration was as strong as ever for her.
How could he accept that he was going to lose the amazing female he mated soon?
Dorian was never wrong about such predictions, which likely meant Ania was indeed going to choose her death and find a way to achieve it. Synar might not know all things about Ania Looren yet, but he had recently learned that his mate didn’t fear much, including him.
Maybe he couldn’t stop the inevitable from happening, Synar conceded as he studied her, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to delay it. For certain, he didn’t want to spend his last days with Ania fighting over a past neither of them could change. He’d rather spend their last days together mending what was left of their relationship, starting with making sure Ania ceased her concerns about talking openly to him.
“I’m glad Dorian Zade is not the direct reason you reek of him. Now I won’t have to lock him in a retaining cell for soliciting my mate,” Synar said calmly, stretching out on the narrow bed meant for someone much smaller than him.
“Synar—we have discussed this. You have no right to care. The two of us are no longer mated,” Ania corrected. “Why do you persist in denying our relationship status has changed?”
“We will be mated in my mind until you draw your last breath, Ania Looren. Then after you die, I will grieve for you until I am gone as well. Not even dragging the energy of my best friend’s bonding lust into my personal space is going to change that fact. It makes me angry, but fortunately my trust in you exceeds my senses,” Synar said firmly. “Now—tell me about Dorian and Gwen. Do they both still live?”
Despite her irritation with most of his comments, Ania laughed at Synar’s joking about Dorian and Gwen. She was amused still when she thought about them.
Looking around the cabin, Ania realized she was still standing just inside Synar’s doorway. She took a deep breath, stepped inside, and turned to close the door behind her.
Walking deeper into his space, it occurred to her that she was alone with Synar in his room for the first time in two years and that it wasn’t as awkward as she had imagined it would be. Instead, it just felt natural for her to be there, which in its own way was disturbing. She didn’t like feeling comfortable or natural with him. She would have preferred to not feel anything.
Ania walked to his desk chair, pulled it out, and sat down uninvited. Looking around with even more interest now, she saw his room was not much larger than hers. This was not the captain’s quarters, she thought. She remembered the quarters on his other ship. It was definitely bigger than this.
“Why are you not residing in the captain’s quarters?” Ania asked.
Synar kept his eyes closed as he responded. “I have my reasons. Report on Dorian and Gwen quickly. I need to rest and my consciousness is slipping away.”
“Dorian is physically fine and mostly recovered. He admitted both to claiming Gwen and that it went poorly. She asked him to stop pleasuring her, but he says he couldn’t control his urge to mark her enough to stop. From what Dorian said, he doesn’t blame her for stunning him and admits it was her only recourse,” Ania said quietly.
Synar laughed. “Getting stunned won’t stop Dorian from trying to claim her again. I was around to watch him with his second mate. Dorian is an extreme person. He is either going to mate with Gwen or die trying now that he’s finally made his decision.”
“I agree that Dorian will try again. He is only part Siren, but from what I carry, it is his true nature. He needs a female willing to meet his needs,” Ania said logically.
“How likely is Gwen to be that female?” Synar asked. “You can tell me the truth. I would prefer hearing it from you because you will at least answer logically. Gwen is still too angry at Dorian to answer such a question calmly or rationally.”
Ania laughed a little, knowing personally just how true Synar’s assessment was.
“Their claiming fight is not resolved. What Dorian has done to Gwen will have repercussions for her until the Liberator can visit Rylen. She is already addicted to him from what I can determine. If they cannot reach an amicable bonding arrangement, you will have two very frustrated warriors on your hands within a couple of days,” she said softly.
“As if I didn’t have enough problems already,” Synar said wearily. “This is partly my fault. I should never have goaded Dorian into acting on his feelings for Gwen. I wreaked this havoc on myself just like everything else in my life.”
Ania frowned at his closed eyes and his words. “Your words annoy me, Synar. Your arrogance is preferable to your self-pity. Hopefully, resting will restore you.”
Surprising both of them, Synar belly laughed at her statement. “Do you truly mean that you actually prefer my arrogance? Who would have believed such a thing was possible? I have missed you, Ania. You always found creative ways to make me laugh at myself.”
Ania smiled at Synar’s veiled insult, something inside her moving oddly in compassion. Malachi seemed to allow her softer feelings for Synar without the punishing pain he usually inflicted when she felt compassion for anything or anyone else.
Or maybe the demon was in a mellow mood, perhaps still satisfied from Gwen’s pleasure, though Ania thought it was mostly gone from her perspective. When she looked at Synar, all she thought about was him.
Ania stood and walked to his bed.
“Move over a little—I wish to sit with you and try to balance your energy,” she ordered. “A captain should not be tired and complaining. I want to make sure you are better when you wake from your rest.”
Synar slid a tiny bit across the narrow bed and Ania sat down on the tiny space he managed to clear for her. She had forgotten what a big male he was. Synar was not exceedingly tall like Dorian, but he was broad.
With the bed against the wall, there wasn’t much more moving he could do. Ania decided she would have to accept their cramped conditions and do what she could.
“Let me grant you ease,” Ania said softly, trying to make it sound like a request when she knew full well it was really a demand for permission. “You need to rest, especially now that your first mate has been compromised. Gwen will manage tonight, but from what I observed it may be another three light cycles before you rest again after this.”
Synar grunted and laughed again, not doubting Ania was right in her warning. “I don’t imagine Dorian is going to be of much use either. He’s probably chained himself to his bed for the night—the lucky bastard.”
“Still watching those old Earth videos I see. Your swearing is colored with human references,” Ania said, laying one hand above his pelvis and the other over the center of his chest. “Quiet now. Focus on becoming calm and let me help you.”
Ania took several breaths and focused on aligning Synar’s life force better in his body. His energy was erratic. She chanted softly, the words bouncing off the walls and around the room as they quivered in the air.
“No—do it in English, not Pleiadian,” Synar whispered, arching and stretching beneath her hands.
“The calming chant is more effective in the ancient tongue,” Ania whispered, continuing to release the mystical words into the air around them as her hands moved across him seeking the vortex openings along the front of his body.
“Since your hands are exciting me rather than calming me, it doesn’t matter about their effectiveness,” Synar said softly. “I want to hear your voice speaking a language I can understand. I want your kind words to fall on me like Candoren rain. I want to know once again the joy of your willing touch.”
Ania lifted her hands from him only to have Synar grab her wrists and pull them back down to his body. Instead of leaving one above his pelvis, Synar guided her hand much lowe
r, groaning softly as it came to rest on proof of his arousal. He couldn’t prevent himself from pressing against her hand beneath his. He had dreamed of her intimate touch often and thought never to have it again on him. It was more restorative than a thousand cycles of sleep.
“This is not wise,” Ania said quietly, but she did not pull her hand away from Synar’s arousal or his grip on her, even when he pressed it more firmly and stroked himself with her palm. “Synar—you’re probably being affected by the desire between Gwen and Dorian that I carry. This is for them. This is not for us.”
Synar sat up suddenly and met her blue gaze, the hold on her wrist tightening. “Do you really believe that? Search me for the truth and you will find this is what I have always felt for you. You are my mate, Ania Looren. I will regret the last two years away from you for the rest of my life no matter how long that is. I don’t want to further regret whatever time is left.”
Ania was shaking her head in denial, tugging her hand away in earnest now, but Synar’s grip was firm. He pulled it to his chest, trapped it there with the other he was still clutching in that same spot.
“I watched you fight Gwen in the training room. I know what you can do,” he admitted. “If you genuinely don’t want me, stop me from seducing you. I am ill from wanting and not having. It affects all that I am.”
“Synar—Liam, I meant only to comfort your spirit, not to tempt your body,” Ania said softly. “I wish you no harm, but do not seek what you will reject tomorrow.”
“Forgive me for what I have done to make you fear my reaction to your touch as strongly as I fear dealing with the demon you carry,” Synar pleaded, moving her hand once again to his throbbing arousal. “Forgive me this once even if you go back to hating me tomorrow. I will suffer enough in the coming time. Be with me tonight, Ania. I need you more than I need to sleep.”
He moved his hand from hers and slid back down in the bed. Ania’s hand stayed on him, lightly stroking as he sighed beneath her touch. Synar felt the first sense of rightness he’d had in a long time. His mate was with him again. Whatever the future held, Synar would make himself live for the moments Ania gave him before she sought her end.
“Stay with me tonight,” Synar begged, knowing he would not stop her if she chose to leave, could not force her to stay. But he wanted to—by the creators of all, he wanted to—even knowing the damage a warrior with her training could cause him.
Ania rose quietly from her seat beside Synar, walked a short distance away to stand near the door.
“I desire you only because of Gwen and Dorian. You know it is uncommon for me to feel as I do. I could bond with you Liam, but to what end? In my mind we are no longer mates,” she said.
“Pick whatever reason suits your logic, but please stay with a male who has wanted you and only you since the first time he saw you,” Synar implored, holding out a hand. “I will make our bonding sacred, or make it fast, or make it whatever you wish. If all you wish is sleep, I can do that as well. Just let me hold you again. Being with you will restore me more than any amount of rest without you beside me.”
To test her resolve, Ania stepped to Synar’s door and put her hand on it to leave.
A profound feeling of wrongness rose up inside her. It wasn’t Malachi because it was the same feeling she’d had the first time she’d bonded with Liam Synar. For reasons Ania had never been able to fathom, she simply hadn’t been able to tell him no. Evidently that was still the case, even though Synar had firmly refused to come back to her when she had asked.
Ania closed her eyes, seeking inside herself to find more resolve, but all she found was her own need to be with him.
Sighing in rare defeat, she let go of the door as she accepted her inability to leave him.
Chapter 6
“Curse you, Liam Synar. This is as bad as the first time. Why can I not leave you as you did me?” she demanded.
“Fine—curse me for leaving you, just come back over here. Whisper your curses in my ears while I fill you. Then maybe my end will come with yours and I will no longer have to worry about losing you or failing to meet my family obligations,” Synar said sadly. “All I care about in this moment is touching you again and knowing you want me to.”
Synar’s comment about family obligations reminded Ania of what Malachi had said about Conor Synar killing their father. She found herself filled with compassion for Synar’s burdens. She found herself once again wanting to soothe him.
“Very well—but staying tonight will not change my future decisions,” Ania warned, removing her shoes.
Keeping her back to Synar, she pulled her shirt from her pants and unfastened it until the only clothing left was the set of hygiene straps criss-crossing her chest. Synar used to like to rip them from her so she left them in place. Her body suddenly quivered at the memory of him destroying them.
Where had that memory been hiding?
Tomorrow she would have a long talk with Malachi about restoring everything to her. She would command him to give it all back.
Ania turned and walked to the bed, surprised to find her skin tingling with her own arousal as she looked at Synar lying on the bed waiting on her to join him. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so excited before or actually desiring him so much.
“Remove your pants,” Synar demanded, running a hand over the hardness of his own body while he watched her undress. “I have no energy and no patience. I do not wish to destroy all your clothes. My need is great.”
Ania lifted her chin, reluctantly doing as he asked, pushing her pants free of her trembling legs.
His gaze moved over her and Ania could swear she felt the heat of him reaching out to her.
“Ania, chasec loqar,” he said roughly, studying her face intently. “Computer, reduce lights to fifty percent.” The lights dimmed around them, casting shadows on the walls.
“I never learned your language completely. I stopped studying it after you left,” Ania said dryly. “You’ll have to speak all your thoughts in English if you wish me to understand.”
Synar reached out a hand and when she took it, he tugged Ania down to the bed until she was kneeling over him. Everything inside him quivered in joy.
“In English, what I said means something similar to I love you,” Synar whispered, pulling her across him and rolling her beneath his body. “But love is such a limited word to describe what I feel.”
Ripples of arousal danced over her following the path of his fingertips. It was a bit like being pleasured by a Siren, she thought, noting the waves of pleasure coursing through her. Maybe tonight this desire she felt was enough reason to bond with the male above her.
“I believe from a Earthling standpoint love is as large a word as is needed at the moment it is used. They seem to need the flexibility as their emotions are volatile and ever changing from moment to moment,” Ania said, feeling his hands moving over her and his weight pressing heavily on her.
Synar laughed at her defense of the term, which was not a response.
“The proper response to a declaration of love is to repeat it back,” he said dryly.
“I am finding it hard to respond in words when my focus is only on my growing desire to bond with you. I have no memories of wanting you this way before. You may tear away my hygiene straps if you wish. I am ready for you,” Ania said, arching against his hands.
Synar laughed, gathering her gratefully into his arms. “I believe I can restrain myself even if it has been a long time. I do not wish to alarm you when we have just begun.”
“What if I don’t want you to restrain yourself?” Ania asked, spreading her legs to allow him and his arousal closer contact with the parts of her needing his attention.
Hearing Synar’s groan as he pressed between her legs met some need in Ania she couldn’t remember ever having in the past. Her hands went to his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. She arched up to rub her upper body against his bare chest, eliciting a groan from him.
“Remove the
barriers between us Synar,” Ania demanded in a whisper. “Do it now.”
“Ania—I want to be gentle with you. It has been so long for both of us,” Synar said softly.
“You disappoint me with your hesitation,” she said, surprised to feel the truth of the words resonating within her. Even in the darkened room she saw Synar’s eyes flash at her criticism.
“Whatever you want then,” Synar said tightly, ripping the bands from her chest and jerking her body up in the process. “I’ve always hated these constricting straps.”
“As do all females who wear them. Free me from the rest,” she demanded, writhing beneath him as he pulled the ones from her chest away from her body and flung them to the floor. “Synar, I want to be filled by you. I want it more than I can remember ever wanting it.”
Synar’s hands trembled at her words, but when he gripped the wrappings around her pelvis and thighs, he rose to his knees and looked down at her for a few moments. Wrapping both his hands more securely around the remaining bands of cloth, Synar lifted her hips from the bed with them.
“Do you feel how right this is between us? Are you aware of how much your body is calling out to mine?” Synar demanded, his voice rough. “Tell me the truth. I must know your answer.”
“In this moment—yes. I feel that it is right between us,” Ania answered, groaning in relief when she felt the straps keeping him out of her being torn away.
Then Synar’s hands were tearing at his remaining clothes. Ania laughed when his pants went sailing through the air across the room. Synar was very agile for a large male.
“So after requesting it, my haste now amuses you?” Synar asked, covering her body with his again, pressing his erection against her pelvis, denying them both the small slide down that would position him to enter her.
“Yes—I wish you were going faster,” Ania said truthfully.
Synar put his face against her bare chest, whispering in his native tongue as his lips traced lightly over her.
“Thank you for this privilege,” he rasped at last, sliding down and plunging into his mate.
The Demon Master's Wife (Fantasy, Space Opera, Science Fiction Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE) Page 5