“Oh, God,” she whispered. “Don’t pull me into this. I don’t have many defenses left.” Her heart had bled for this man so many times, and now he held her like she was his salvation, his anchor, the only thing he had to hold onto.
She’d already seen the way he looked at her, with pure revulsion for who she was and what she’d done to him. She knew it would come again the moment he regained his senses. She couldn’t let herself fall into his touch, into his need, and then survive it when he took it away from her. He wouldn’t survive it either, being sucked into her nightmare. “We can’t lie to each other,” she whispered as she grabbed his wrist, trying to stop him. “This isn’t real. Please, don’t do this to me. To us.”
“Real,” he whispered, sliding his hands beneath her shirt, flattening one palm over her belly. “You’re not real?” His voice cracked, and he gripped her sides with sudden intensity. “You have to be real—”
“I am, I am,” she soothed quickly. “You’re not having illusions. I’m right here.” She knew he’d been tormented by illusions. He’d been thrust mercilessly into the world of uncertainty, unable to know what nightmares were real, and which were fake. Men had died from the insanity the illusions caused, from the inability to know truth from delusion, and she knew Elijah’s greatest tool right now was reality. She couldn’t take that away from him. “I’m not your imagination,” she said.
Elijah opened his eyes again, straining to see her, but there was no recognition in those scarred eyes. “I can’t see you,” he croaked. “You’re not real—”
“I am!” Ana grabbed his hands and squeezed. “Feel my touch,” she ordered. “Hear my voice. I’m here, dammit! You’re not being messed with anymore!”
“You’re real?” His voice softened with awe and disbelief. “This is you?” He ran his hands over her stomach, her ribs, and desire leapt through her.
Ana leaned her head back and closed her eyes, her body trembling at the sensation of his hands on her. God, how long had it been since a man’s hands had touched her with kindness? Not just kindness. Reverence. Adoration. Callused hands that would never hurt her, no matter what she did. Hands that would wrap around her at night and keep her safe. Strong, masculine hands that would seduce her until she was his, forever…
Oh, God. What was she thinking? She couldn’t do this, not to him, not to herself. Her only job was to help him regain his sanity, to bring him back so he could fulfill the mission he was meant to do. She had to stop him from weaving this web around them. She had to keep him from drawing them both into the dangerous attraction sparking between them, the one that was only about their sheva bond, not reality, not the truth about how much damage there was between them.
“Elijah! We don’t have time for this. Your team needs you upstairs. You have to save the damn world.” She winced at how she sounded a little too breathless and sensual. Desperate and panicked, yes, but also…intimate. She cleared her throat and leaned back, away from his face still nuzzling her throat. “If you were in your right mind, you’d never touch me like this. You despise me and I—”
“No,” he growled. His hands slid up her back beneath her shirt, and he pressed against her bare shoulder blades, pulling her toward him. Toward his mouth.
Anticipation hummed through Ana even as she stiffened, fighting the urges racing through her. God, how she wanted to lose herself in him. “Dammit, Elijah. Stop!”
Her body was trembling with desire, with nervousness, and the need to leap off his lap and bolt. But she knew he’d snap if she broke physical contact with him, and she didn’t know if she’d be able to bring him back from his delusions and insanity again. She owed him, and she knew that her soul was already too black to survive causing Elijah’s death for a second time. He’d been revived once, by forces too awful to comprehend, and she knew he wouldn’t survive it again. “Elijah—” Her palms went to his bare chest to try to block him from pulling her any closer, and the heated spark was almost instant.
They both froze, and she could feel his heart pounding beneath her palms.
Mine. His possessive growl echoed in her mind, sending spirals of fire and heat racing through her.
Yours. The word popped into Ana’s mind before she could stop it.
The moment the word formed in her head, Elijah sat up and yanked her against him. His hand roughly palmed the back of her head to bring her down at the right angle, not giving her a chance to resist or to stop him. He sank his mouth onto hers, and her lips parted instantly for him…and then she felt the beast consume him. His need pulsed at her, shredding all her resistance in a heartbeat.
She barely stifled a scream as Elijah shifted and rolled her beneath him, covering her with his body. His kisses were frantic, his mouth almost violent in its assault on her. His hands were all over her, her stomach, her breasts, his fingers bruising and desperate. She could feel his desperation for her, and she knew he might hurt her.
And she didn’t care.
Hot desire rose hard and fast inside her, and she threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly as her own need met his. God, she’d needed this for so long. Not just any touch. His touch. She knew it in every fiber of her being that he had been inside her soul since they’d met. We will destroy each other. The thought was like a cold hit to her gut, and she tried to break the kiss. “I can’t—”
He tugged her shirt up and caught her breast in his mouth, a decadent, raging kiss of desperate desire that eviscerated her resistance to him. His fervent passion for her was tearing at her soul with every kiss.
Darkness slithered along the edges of her mind, a danger so vivid and poisonous that her soul recoiled and she tried to pull back. Elijah growled and deepened his kiss, and she realized that the hell she’d sensed was in Elijah’s mind, a demonic darkness trying to overtake his sanity. She knew Elijah was trying to outrun it by sinking himself into her body and her mind, seeking solace in their touch, in their kisses.
She was the oasis, the sanity, the beauty that could bring him back from this madness, from the demons in his mind. A sense of absolute rightness filled Ana with heat and warmth at the realization that she could help him. The hell she would face later didn’t matter anymore. Elijah needed her, and as his soul mate, she could help him. I’m here for you.
His energy reached for her through the nightmare that beat at him. His soul wrapped itself around her as he fought for his sanity and control. His relentless need for her consumed both his mind and hers…
Yes, Elijah. Take me. Whatever you need from me, it’s yours. She wrapped her arms around his neck, gasping as he kissed her breasts. A growl ripped from this throat, an untamed sound of possession and domination as he lowered his hips between her thighs. His hips began to pump, his erection slamming against her through her jeans.
Desire raged through her, sweeping her up and away from all the anguish she’d been carrying for so long. In his arms, there was nothing left of the woman who’d hurt so many people. Gone was the debilitating guilt and grim awareness of the monster she was. The aching loneliness, the constant fear, the incessant terrors…all gone, cradled in the strong arms of this courageous warrior.
Instead, there was simply beauty and passion, a sense of being loved and desired, of being treasured. Yes, she whispered, her heart too full of emotion to dare stop him. She wanted more of this moment, even though she knew she didn’t deserve it, even though she knew it would all be torn apart the moment he recovered enough to remember who she was and how deep his revulsion for her ran.
His body was rigid under her touch, and she felt every cut, every wound under her hands. There was nowhere to hold him without hurting him more. He shouted and thrust harder, and suddenly she couldn’t think anymore, his need calling out an answering yearning in her. His body was so hot, his skin serrated and broken, his muscles rock hard beneath her touch, sliding under his skin.
Ana arched her back, her body reaching for him, for his touch, for the heat in his hands and the fire in his
kisses until it wasn’t just about his desperation, but hers as well. His hand went to her jeans and he fumbled with them, trying to get them undone as his thrusts grew more frantic, more forceful, his erection slamming through the denim against her most sensitive spot.
Utter rightness swelled inside her, consuming her, until the fire began to lick down her limbs, igniting every inch of her until the sensations exploded, overwhelming her soul and her body. She screamed Elijah’s name, and his deep roar mixed with hers, his body convulsing against her as he drove again and again, his hands braced on either side of her head, his attempt to get her pants off lost in the blazing inferno consuming them both.
The orgasm consumed them both at the same instant. She screamed his name, and he went rigid above her, and then he collapsed, his body sinking onto hers, his chest flush against the bare skin of her breasts, his hips stilled between hers, his breathing raw and harsh on her neck.
She locked her arms around his shredded back and entwined her feet along his thighs, holding him as tightly as she could as the final tremors faded.
Elijah shuddered against her, and then his body finally went quiet.
Neither of them moved or spoke, though she was certain he was awake. They just lay together, intertwined, on the steel slab, recovering.
After a moment, she rested her elbow on his shoulder and pressed her hand to her eyes. Dear God. What had she done?
Elijah shifted suddenly. He rose swiftly to his hands and knees, his body going rigid. He straddled her, his palms braced on either side of her head, his legs outside hers. It was the position of a male defending his woman with his body. He stopped breathing, going utterly still, a predator waiting for the enemy to attack.
Ana froze, her heart pounding. What had he seen? Had his mind snapped? Elijah? What’s wrong?
They’re coming. His head was up and he was staring blindly past her with the intensity of an assassin who had targeted his mark.
Who? Demons? Some figment of his ravaged mind? Ana carefully twisted her head to look where he was looking. Relief rushed through her when she saw Quinn and Gideon standing inside the door. Elijah wasn’t imagining things. He was all right! “I’m fine,” she quickly told their visitors, her cheeks heating with embarrassment at being caught in such an intimate position. Her clothes were still on, but it was obvious what they’d been doing.
Neither warrior moved, and Elijah lowered himself slightly, his chest resting protectively against hers. She noticed then that Gideon and Quinn had their weapons out, and they were pointing them at Elijah. Oh, crap! No wonder Elijah was on the defensive. “Put your weapons away,” she said quickly. “He’s—”
Elijah’s hand went to her mouth, silencing her.
Gideon swore and didn’t sheathe his weapon. “We’re going to grab you and pull you out from under him.”
Oh, Dear God, that would make Elijah snap if they went after her! “No! Don’t touch me! Don’t take me away from him! He needs to have me touching him!”
Elijah tensed at her sharp tone, and he immediately shifted his weight to free his right arm, the arm he preferred for his weapons. Oh, crap. “No, Elijah.” She fought to keep her voice calm. “They’re your friends—”
He called out his throwing star with a crack that reverberated against the steel wall, and she knew they were a split second away from a full battle, a violent encounter she knew would end only in death.
CHAPTER FOUR
There was a threat to his female.
Elijah couldn’t see it, but he could sense it. Knew it was there. Had to protect her—
“Elijah.” Her hands were on his face, a delicate touch that made something inside him freeze. “They’re your friends. Quinn and Gideon. Friends.”
He hesitated, clenching his throwing star in his fist.
Quinn.
Gideon.
The names pulsed in his head. Made it hurt. He knew them. He did. But how? Couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think.
His heart began to pound, and he struggled to see, but for all the effort, Elijah could discern nothing but the blurred outlines of two males. Large males with the body language of warriors. Threats—
Her arms went around his neck, and she pressed her face into his chest, her breath warm against his bare skin. “You know them,” she whispered. “You do. It’s okay, Elijah. You’re safe now.”
She pressed her lips to his throat, a gesture so tender and trusting that he forgot to think. He forgot about the danger. His entire world went still, and all his senses were filled with the woman beneath him. Her lips were warm and soft, decadently sensual as they brushed over his bare skin in a seduction that ignited every fire in his body. He growled and dug his fingers into her hair, bowing his head so he could nuzzle her, breathing in the scent of flowers and sunshine that seemed to come from her.
“Yes,” she whispered, lifting her face to his, her breath mixing with his in a tangle of temptation that gripped him with fierce need and sent sparks of fire shooting through his mind, sending flashes of awareness bursting through the fog inside his brain.
He lifted his head sharply, staring at the males standing before him again as his mind finally was able to grasp their presence. They hadn’t moved closer, and he still couldn’t see them, but as he inhaled, he recognized their scent. It was one he’d known for hundreds of years, men who had stood beside him.
She was right. They were his allies, not enemies. Not threats. “Quinn?” His voice was so gravelly he didn’t even recognize it. He struggled with the name, trying to place it, desperate to get his mind working again. “Didn’t I kill you?” He was sure he had. He could still remember the anguish that had torn through him as he’d watched his throwing star hurtle through the air and slam into Quinn’s neck, his torment as he slashed Quinn’s arm and stole his weapon. “Shit—”
“Hell, no, man. You didn’t kill me.” There was a snort, and then the shadowed figure moved closer, and Elijah couldn’t help but tense.
Quinn stopped just far enough away to give Elijah the space he had to have. “I’m way too tough for you to take out. But fuck, you keep talking like you’re sane, and I’ll let you shove that throwing star of yours into the back of my neck anytime you want.”
Elijah shifted his weight and held up his hand. Without a word passing between them, Quinn clasped his hand, and Elijah felt the strength of his friend’s grasp. To his shock he felt tears fill his eyes. “You’re alive. I thought—” He swallowed his words, trying to focus, trying to remember, trying to understand. Was he wrong? Had he imagined killing Quinn? What was real, the man standing before him, or the death Elijah could still feel so vividly? “I don’t understand.”
Quinn’s grip was tight on his, and he crouched before Elijah, putting himself in a vulnerable position, the actions of a friend. “Let it go, man.” His voice was low. “You didn’t kill me, and it wasn’t your fault.”
The nightmares had haunted Elijah. Of Quinn’s body, of the trainees… Elijah gagged, suddenly remembering all the youth that had been with Quinn that night. Their bodies, strewn across the forest floor, all of them dead, by his hand. “Jesus, I slaughtered them all, didn’t I? It really happened.”
“Doesn’t matter. You were under the control of a powerful Illusionist who is now dead. It’s the past,” Quinn said firmly. “Let it go. You’re the one in bad shape now. Worry about yourself.”
“Fuck that, it matters.” Jesus, it was true. He’d killed them all. Which of the other images in his mind were real? Had he—
Elijah froze when the other shadowed figure approached. He squinted, trying to get a read on who it was, but he couldn’t fucking see. Couldn’t get a read on him—
The male was even larger than Quinn. In all black. “It’s me, Gideon,” the dark stranger said. “You remember me? Blood brothers for five hundred years and all that shit?”
“Gideon?” Elijah repeated the name, trying to remember, trying to cull back the swirling blackness in his mind.
&nbs
p; The female beneath him shifted, wrapping her legs around his hips so he could sink between her thighs, stilling the panic that had started to build. Elijah’s mind cleared even more as he slid his hand along her bare arm. Again, her touch gave his mind peace, and he suddenly knew who was standing before him, even though he still couldn’t see, couldn’t get his eyes to work. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember.” He remembered fighting with Gideon. Trying to kill him. He swore. “Sorry.”
Gideon kneeled beside him, the faint outline of his face only a few feet from Elijah’s. “Yeah, be sorry. I’ll beat the crap out of you as soon as you’re tough enough to take it.”
The rough teasing made Elijah pulse with fear, not for him, but for them, for their safety. These were warriors who deserved to live. He realized his friends forgave him…but fuck. They had no idea what they were dealing with anymore. But Elijah knew…he swore and felt fear begin to nip at his mind, knew the demons were circling…
Elijah dropped his head, pressing his face into the thick tresses of the female still wrapped around him, instinctively knowing that touching her would help clear his mind. She would help chase away the hell…he knew he had to keep the demons at bay…knew his friends wouldn’t be safe if the demons came back…
Her hair smelled like respite and peace, like beauty and freedom. He liked it. It was right.
The female. His. He knew it, but he couldn’t remember. He knew her…but how? “You’re mine.” It was a statement, a truth he knew deep in his gut.
He could see the slant of her head and knew she was looking at him, even if he couldn’t see her face clearly. But he felt her tension the moment he spoke. “Technically, yes, on some level.” Her words were careful, and they pulsed in his mind, familiar. “But we’re not going there, so don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry about it…” He stared at her, and suddenly he understood what she hadn’t said. Dread hit him hard, and he grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm in front of him. He couldn’t see clearly enough, but he laid his hand over her forearm. Her skin pulsed with heat, and he knew. He swore with regret even as rightness and possession beat through him. She was his. Forever. Always. Yes. “You carry my mark.”
Darkness Surrendered (Primal Heat Trilogy #3) (Order of the Blade) Page 4