by Kim Knox
His laughter was hard and he tugged her back, deepening the push of his cock. He stroked harder, faster into her ass, giving her no time to think, to protest…and she didn’t want to. They were dark souls, bound together with dream magic, weaving the first of their physical bonds. She had to drive the words from him, make him prove that the first wildness of binding emotion touched their attraction. Her breath came out in ragged gasps, her heart thudding, and there on the edge of her flesh she could feel the deeper stirring of her release, a heavy weight low in her belly, the promise of—
“Imagine if Marek could see us…” The hard slap of his hips against hers rose above their labored breathing. “See how I’m fucking you. Would it please him?”
The words burned deep into her soul and fire flickered. “Yes.” She could almost see Marek watching her, the fierce fury of his desire lighting his dark eyes. His hand would snake down over the smooth muscle of his belly to grip his cock and she could hear the command in his voice. “He wants…my mouth on him.”
Lucas groaned and words in an unknown language rushed over her hot skin and ignited the need in her body. She shook, the pressure of her release so tight, so hot in her flesh she could almost taste it. Lucas pushed deep into her ass, a tormenting rhythm that she couldn’t fight and it drove her… She bit down on a shaking cry. Heat raced through her, a burning fury of fire and light and joy, overwhelming her, stripping her of everything she was, leaving her open and naked.
And still Lucas fucked her, his hands tight on her hips, his breath short. He shaped words she didn’t understand, but she felt them push into her flesh as sure and as hard as he did. Her pussy tightened and the rise of fresh pleasure was undeniable…and it took her. The raw tastes of magic, known, but buried under the power of being a ward, filled her mouth, her senses. It thrummed under her skin, a vivid fire in too many colors, that ignited the pleasure coursing through her. She cried out and the power of her magic reached out to Lucas.
He came with a wild shout, his erratic thrusts pushing fresh heat into her ass, his hands easing back from the bite into her skin to caress her belly, cup her breasts and hold him to her. “Bound to me,” he murmured and pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder. “Mine. I spoke the words of binding into your open flesh.” He hugged her to him, his soft laughter warming her, the warm pulse of magic easing in a glow of spiraling magic into their sated flesh. The sense of strength and reassurance lingered and she let out a slow sigh. She realized how close she was to him now, the touch of his emotions weaving through hers.
“Thank you.” His sigh brushed her skin. “I never thought to have this honor.”
Ash closed her eyes, not yet ready to experience the pain lurking in Lucas’ past. He smiled and dropped another quick kiss to her shoulder. “In time,” he murmured. “It’s the joy and the curse of a dark soul to know everything.”
With a soft sigh, he eased from her body and then he swung her up into his arms. Ash squeaked, taken by surprise. Lucas carried her back to the bed and laid her gently on the rumpled sheets. She watched him walk across the room, his naked beauty gilded with golden stripes of sunlight streaking through the closed shutters. The noise from the street below was a continuous low thrum, broken by the occasional shout or the bray of a discontented mule. Ash’s eyes began to close, her sated body wanting to slip easily into sleep…
A lukewarm, damp cloth pressing against her backside made her start, her limbs jerking as she fought to wake up.
Lucas shushed her. “Just me,” he murmured.
He pressed a dry cloth to her skin, slow strokes warming through her. A sigh escaped her. The lazy patterns of Lucas’ fingertips against her bare backside drew a smile across her lips, and she felt it echoed in him, almost as if it covered her own lips. “This is very strange.”
“Having demon blood has some benefits.”
He slipped his arm over her waist, the heat of his naked flesh pushing her towards sleep again. His large hand cupped her breast and she eased her thigh between his, the tangling of their bodies something they both wanted. The aroma of mint drifted across her skin, sharp, cool, and she frowned.
“I bought oil.” His soft, deep voice rumbled pleasantly against her back. “Knew that we would have to perform the next rite in our bond.” His laughter pushed a lazy smile over her own mouth. “I was not expecting the need I had for you.”
“So you swilled and chewed on mint…and cloves.” Cloves had appeared in her thoughts, unbidden, unexpected. Had it come from Lucas’ mind? “Yes, this is incredibly strange.”
“It’s the first time for me too, Ash.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them, the noises of rumbling wagons and the shouts and clatter of the people almost a pleasant sound now. The temple—even Marek’s house—had held a heavy silence, but the feeling of connecting with the outside world eased around her and she felt safe in Lucas’ arms. As safe as she had felt in the temple before the thieves—or whoever they were—had desecrated the sanctuary.
“We’ll become closer,” he murmured and the promise of that drifted her eyes shut, the smooth deepness of his voice lulling her. “Sharing so many things. Who we are will flow together, merge.” His fingers stroked her breast and he pulled her closer to him, his thigh pressing hard against her sex. “Melt into each other.”
Flickers of fire teased her skin, but the exhaustion outweighed it. There had been too much already in her day, and for a woman used to the marble floor of a temple, not even the delicious promise of Lucas could keep her from sleeping.
She felt his smile against her shoulder. “Then you must sleep.” The soft words wove through her. “I will be here…and ready when you awake.”
Ash grinned and stroked his arm, the heat, muscled strength and hair-roughened skin still a curiosity, even after sharing her nights with Marek. “I’m certain of it.” She snuggled back against him as he dropped the covers over her. She’d grown used to a man in her bed. “Can Marek feel us?” Her heart jumped. “We didn’t distract him?”
“No.” The easiness of his reassurance slipped under her skin. He believed that Marek was safe, the pride at the strength of his chosen primary coloring his thoughts. “See? I’ve met a rare few like Marek in my long life. He’s…perfection. A rare balance of powers. We chose well in him. His own honor guides and holds him, not the power of rules.” He kissed her neck. “He’ll come back to us.”
Ash closed her eyes again, trusting him. It was a relief. Marek would come back to them, back to her. “Is having demon blood always like this?”
“Only if you’re very, very lucky.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“Of course you did.” He shifted against her, his sigh almost carnal. “Sleep, Ash, before I change my mind.”
She gave his hand a gentle slap. “And stay out of my head,” she murmured. “I want a restful sleep.”
“I will obey you in all things, lady.”
And his words followed her down into sleep.
* * * * *
She half woke at the touch of fingers on her face. The musty scent of the bed, the hint of salt in the air and Lucas’ tight embrace pushed thoughts of Marek’s hidden rooms into her mind. His hand flexed around her breast and she smirked at the push of Lucas’ hard cock into the cleft of her ass. Though from the heaviness of his breathing, he seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep. She brushed the back of his hand, his strength, the corded veins so foreign…and exciting. His breath stirred her neck and he showed no signs of waking…and he’d promised he’d be ready for her.
A smile touched her lips and then she realized that the soft stroke of fingertips across her cheek didn’t belong to Lucas.
“Marek?”
“Been busy?” Marek sat on the side of the bed. The sun had shifted, taking away the golden stripes of light, and it was hard to make out his face in the gloom. His thumb toyed with her lip and her pussy tightened. Lucas’ hips rolled against her almost in reflex and she gaspe
d. “I see you have. Did you enjoy him?”
The sudden dull pain in her gut surprised her and it felt surprisingly like…guilt. Guilt from what? Her instincts had screamed that they needed time alone to form their bond. She blinked. No, she was reacting to something from Marek. He felt guilty for leaving her with Lucas? But that didn’t make sense. The need to reassure him burned through her. “Our instincts pushed us…and it was glorious.” She let out a soft sigh, the memory of Lucas warming her flesh. As if feeling her arousal—which Lucas no doubt could—his hips pushed against hers, his cock slipping over her pussy. “If you could have seen us, Marek…”
“That was not my privilege.” His words tightened the knot of guilt in her gut, thickening it, and she didn’t understand from where it came. With a final stroke of her lip, he lifted his finger from her face and his hand dropped to the bed as a fist. “And this is him protecting you?”
“I was aware of you as the door opened.” No sleep blurred Lucas’ voice. His hand eased from her breast and slipped under the covers. Ash pressed her lips together as he cupped her, his first finger dipping into her damp flesh to tease her sweet spot. “The second’s rite has been spoken, primary. Ash is bound to me. Now you must—”
“We don’t have time for this.” With that angry mutter, he pushed himself up from the bed. “I can’t fuck the afternoon away.”
Ash watched him pace, the threads of need easing back in her flesh. Her primary didn’t want her. The unexpected pain of that thought stung her eyes and she shut them to stop the flow of stupid tears. Damn it, what was wrong with her?
Lucas kissed her neck, the gesture comforting, and his warm breath flowed over her skin. “He’s tired,” he murmured and then he paused for a string of heartbeats. His body tensed around her. “You’re injured, Marek.”
Marek’s pacing stopped. He straightened, but obviously favored his right side. “There were almost more of them than I could count.” He pulled in a slow breath. “I could use some of that ward magic right now.” His laughter turned bitter. “But we did away with that, didn’t we?”
Ash pulled herself free of Lucas, her heart beating hard. Nervous, she approached Marek, her hand skimming his arm. He flinched and her stomach cramped. “How badly injured?” She shot a glance back to Lucas. “Is there some magic you know? Something that could help him?”
Lucas ran a hand through his untidy hair, sat up and planted his feet on the floor. Thankfully the sheet covered his nakedness. “Our healing magic is often tied up with sex.” He caught her gaze and looked down to his lap, fully aware that her attention kept straying there. A wicked smile tugged at his mouth. “Something of interest, Ash?”
Her mouth thinned and she pushed her anger at him without thought. It wrapped around him, a heavy blanket of hot irritation that she pressed against his bare skin.
Lucas blinked and rolled his neck, dissipating her emotion. His smile deepened. “Nicely done.”
“What…?”
“You forced your thoughts on him. Ancient magic.”
Marek’s low voice snapped her attention back to him and she remembered that he was injured, that she should be trying to help him…not falling into whatever it was between herself and Lucas. “Marek, where are you hurt?”
He winced and stepped back from her. “I’m a custodian. I have my own magic to rebuild me.” He let out a slow breath and hitched the leather strap of his bag over his head. His wince deepened. “This is more important.” He looked over to Lucas. “Light a lamp.”
Lucas arced a bristling stream of light to the oil lamp on the table. The wick caught and the low golden glow brightened and spread out across the room. He disappeared into the small kitchen, reappearing with their clothes. Ash caught Marek’s frown before his face fell into its usual professional mask.
She shrugged on her tunic and watched Marek spread out the rumpled sheets. He straightened and a brief flicker of pain crossed his features. He closed his eyes for the space of a heartbeat and then opened his bag.
He pulled out books and papers, piling them until he found the one he wanted. Some Ash recognized from the cellar cupboard, some from his stacks of books that had lined the shelves in his office. Her heart turned over. “You went into the house.”
“I had to,” he muttered.
“But you said…”
He held her gaze and the heat there caught her breath. His beauty, the need she had for him swept through her and the ache, her instinct to finish what they had started, burned. Anger darkened his face and he stared back at the paper-covered bed.
“I grabbed everything I could on the Kairas.” He unfolded a book, opening it out to reveal the skeleton of a family tree. He glanced back to the narrow arch. “We don’t have much time left here. But I need to know who started all of this.”
“Lucas, guard the door, this magic will light the place up like a beacon.” He looked down at the man’s bare feet. “Dress first.” His gaze slid to Ash and something sparked in his eyes that she couldn’t name. It tightened her heart though. “You too.”
She did as she was told without argument. Marek was injured and whoever had the strength to hurt him would find them. She pulled on her breeches and slippers, Lucas yanked on his boots before he gave her a short nod and disappeared into the shadowed archway.
“Here, hold this.” Marek gave her the lamp and warm light swept over the yellowed paper. Ash stared at names scratched on to the parchment. The letters twisted, melted into new shapes and formed words she could read. She blinked, heat blooming in her chest…but then Marek was speaking.
“This is accurate. As accurate as the custodians could make it.” He frowned. “But it should be opened in a spell-protected treasury room.” He glanced up to the shadowed ceiling. “Not here.”
“It’s a dark soul family history,” Ash murmured, reading the names of the four matriarch demons heading the chart. Dardanas branched one way. Kairas, the other. Never touching. She scanned the descending branches, reading clan names that could cover thousands of people. None of the four lines intersected and deep in her belly she felt the push of the forbidden. A matriarch guarded her line with a fierce jealousy. Certain names glowed and she had the urge to touch them…but she curled her fingers into tight fists.
“You can read this?” Marek’s dark gaze fixed on her, she felt it in the hot burn of her skin, but she didn’t look at him. “Ash?”
“The letters…moved into shapes I knew.” She shrugged as the light flickered over the paper. Names jumped out at her, three near the bottom of each branch giving off a heavy glow. “Why are they shining?”
“Of course, you bonded with him.” Marek tapped a glowing name. “That’s Lucas’ family. The Vahe.”
Her finger skimmed another glowing name from the Dardanas branch. “Sahak.” The word felt right in her mouth and her connection to it pushed deep in her blood. Branches splintered and there was Marek’s name, glowing in a shining balance of silver and gold. She looked up. “And that’s your family.”
Marek’s mouth thinned, his eyes narrowing, but he said nothing. He skimmed the parchment, drawing the families back to the first page. “The Kairas line ends here.” He tapped the last name on a branch that ended halfway up the chart. It held a soft glow too. “One of the more obscure Bukharan imperial lines. Supposedly bred out of the current rulers.” He swept his hand over the parchment and the lines and names shimmered and shifted to form a new pattern with the imperial name Arrosa heading the tree. More of the clans glowed. “And obviously a false supposition.”
“Why is it doing that? Glowing?” she asked.
“It feels our blood.” He urged her to lift the guttering lamp and the fall of the names across the parchment became more pronounced. “This is your lineage.”
“Mine?” Ash recognized some of the names from her childhood history lessons, the clans of ancient kings who had founded Bukhara, the families of generals and bureaucrats who had maintained the growing empire down the centuries. Her bl
ood swam with history…yet, she’d been abandoned, given to the temple to guard ancient magic. “These are all my family?”
“To a degree. The brighter the glow, the stronger the association.” Marek traced his finger over the emperor’s family Balere and the names blurred again, reforming to show the individuals born to that family. One name burned against the yellowed parchment. “Zorion,” he murmured. “Distant cousin to the Emperor.” Another tap and more shifting of ink across the parchment. A host of names fanned across the page. “And he’s been busy.”
Ash blinked. There was her name inscribed in neat, black ink. “He’s my father?”
Marek paused before he murmured, “Yes.”
She took a back step and her hand covered her mouth, her fingers pressing hard into her jaw. She pulled in a tight breath. “And these are all my brothers and sisters?”
“As I said, he’s been busy.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “And this chart only shows his descendents who received his demonic heritage. Zorion is…I don’t know how old.” He let out a slow breath. “He’s a highest ranking custodian. The Senior Prime.”
“Have you never looked at this book before?”
Marek straightened and quickly folded the chart. “No.”
“Because you had the suspicion you’d find yourself on there?”
He pushed the other papers back into his bag. “Owning this document brings the death penalty. Custodians despise ancient magic.”
Ash snorted. “Except one.”
“Yes. Except one.” He turned and grabbed the bag stocked with food. “Now we have to get away from here.”
“But we still don’t know where this marker is.”
“It’s in the city.”
A short laugh escaped her. “That’s not helpful, Marek.”
“Zorion is a creature of habit—”
He took her hand and the fierce heat of the sudden contact brought them both to silence. His fingers flexed around hers and she didn’t miss the muscle twitch in his jaw. Her need to ignore her own safety, shove him back on the bed and ride him ’til pleasure burst through them both almost overwhelmed her. She sucked in a slow breath, desperate to ignore the hard pulse of need low in her belly.