Blazing (Valos of Sonhadra Book 3)

by Nancey Cummings

  “Are you mad at me?”

  He held her gaze but did not answer.

  “Are you going to kick me out?” She couldn’t join the survivors. She’d have to take her chances in the wilds of Sonhadra on her own.

  He gripped her shoulders and pressed his forehead to hers. “No,” he said at length.

  “No?”

  “You knew the humans would reject you, expose your secrets, and yet you still wanted to try. Whoever you were on Earth, you are a different person on Sonhadra.”

  A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Being a different person—a better person— sounded so good. “You’re still mad at me, though.”

  He sighed and kissed her forehead. “We will have many seasons together. I suspect you will always be able to rouse my anger.”

  “Many seasons, huh?” That didn’t sound so bad. It sounded great, actually. Many seasons of her, Sarsen, Ertale and Ache living and fighting together, maybe loving.

  His mouth slanted over hers, forceful and taking everything she had. She moaned and his tongue pushed into her mouth. Hot as a brand, he delved deep into her. Hands on her shoulders, he pulled back.

  Lucie panted, stunned and wanting more.

  Sarsen held her gaze. “Do you accept my brothers as your mates?”

  “All of you?”

  “All.” Gently, his scalding fingers stroked her cheek. His eyes burned, promising sensuous delights.

  “At once?” The idea wasn’t terrible. Exciting, really.

  He chuckled, warm and rich.

  She nodded. She wanted Asche and Ertale. She wanted them all.

  “Do you accept me?”

  “We’re in the middle of an argument here,” she said.

  His grip tightened. “Do you accept me as your mate?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. Of course she did. He drove her crazy and she loved it.

  He hooked a finger under a shoulder strap of the dress. The fabric burned, filling the air with a sharp, acrid scent. Lucy clutched at the dress to prevent it sliding down. He pushed her hand away. “I would see my mate.”

  “You’ve seen it before.”

  He nodded, burning the other strap. The dress fell to the ground and pooled at her feet. Lucie fought the urge to cover herself. Wearing only shoes, she was completely nude. His loincloth sported a considerable tent.

  Sarsen kissed a blazing trail along her jaw and down her neck. He kissed and worshipped one breast and rolled the hard, pink nipple of the other in one hand. His mouth was impossibly hot, like sticking her hand directly into a fire, but it didn’t hurt. Far from it. His heat was the only thing that burned through the misery of the last few years, the only thing to make her feel alive again.

  He caressed the apex of her thighs, stroking over her curls down there. His hand, his inhuman hand, worked her lower lips, spreading her slickness. He was so hot, she wondered that she didn’t catch ablaze, too. She leaned into him, unable to stop the way her hips responded as his hand rubbed her from clit to core. His fingers circled her sensitive nub then journeyed down into her, hooking back to hit the perfect spot.

  “How are you so good?” Human men could spend a lifetime and never find a gal’s g-spot. “We should—” She found the thought impossible to continue as his fingers worked in and out of her. She rode his hand, letting her climax crest. She cried her release as his mouth slammed down over hers, consuming her.

  He lifted her, and her legs wrapped around his waist as he walked them into a nearby hut. His eyes sparked with desire. His cock pressed hard against her stomach.

  He pushed her back against the stone wall and positioned his cock at her entrance.

  “Sex won’t change anything,” she said, barely able to string coherent thoughts together. “We’ll still argue.”

  “No,” he said, voice stern. “We will continue to argue after. Now, the only words you may say are yes, Sarsen and harder, Sarsen and more, Sarsen. Is that clear?”

  That shouldn’t have been hot. It was a disgustingly macho display yet it amped up her body more than his fiery mouth on her heated skin. Her core clenched at his words and her thighs tightened. “Yes, Sarsen.”

  He smiled. “You liked that. I could feel it.”

  Fuck. He was killing her with the dirty talk. He should not be this good at dirty talk. “More, Sarsen,” she said, rocking her hips.

  She didn’t have to ask twice. He pushed into her, stretching her. Inch by inch he worked his way in. She felt full but not uncomfortable. “Yes,” she hissed, loving every burning moment as her body yielded to him.

  Finally fully seated, he drew back and slammed into her. Then she felt them, the bumps at the base of his cock. They massaged her with every push, hitting the sensitive nub and rubbing.

  Sarsen pounded into her, pressing her against the wall. The rough stone scratched her back, making everything about how he moved against her and in her all the better. Her release was not far away as her thighs trembled.

  Feral and hungry, he took his pleasure from her. She was pinned to the wall and helpless to do anything but receive his lust. He grabbed her throat with one large hand, eyes blazing. She lifted her chin, unafraid. “Harder, Sarsen.”

  He drove into her. She bounced with every thrust. The hard planes of his stomach pressed against her. Everywhere they touched was alive with fire.

  Her release came suddenly and violently. Her back arched and she cried out his name, as her thighs shook and muscles quaked. He followed her over, throwing his head back with a roar.

  He held her there against the wall, chest pressed against hers. Her heart thudded, matching the rhythm of his heartstone.

  Sarsen

  He lowered his mate to the ground and stretched her to inspect for any slight wound or hurt. His fingers skimmed along her arm, following the direction of the small hairs. Ertale had said she was soft, but he couldn’t imagine such softness until he held her in his arms. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” His mate rolled towards him, eyes bleary and a satisfied smile on her lips. He liked seeing her that way. He wanted to see more of her tired, satisfied smile.

  Stretched thus, she displayed the burn scars she tried so hard to keep hidden. His fingers skated over the old wound. They faintly glowed with her internal fire.

  She flinched away. “Don’t.”

  “Why? It is healed and you are strong.”

  “I’m disfigured.” She pulled her hair around her neck, covering her marks.

  “You were transformed.” For him. For his brothers. For life on an unforgiving Sonhadra. She had been forged in the fire, like him, and his touch did not burn her. Could she not see the obvious? He wanted to tell her this but hesitated. He was not good with words, not like Asche. Even Ertale seemed more eloquent, and he had not said a word in a thousand years.

  “Sleep,” he said, folding his arms behind his head. Staring up, the hut had no roof. The stars shined brightly. He would seek Asche in the morning to help form the correct words, he decided.

  “You promised me an argument, mister.” Her words were confrontational, but her tone was sweet.

  “We have much to argue about, but it can wait until morning.”

  “Ah.” Her smile grew brighter. She snuggled in next to him and his arm instinctively went around her shoulders, holding her close. He liked that, also.

  “Do you think Ertale and Asche heard us?” she asked.

  “Yes.” There was no way to avoid hearing them.

  “That’s embarrassing,” she said muttered.

  “There are no secrets between mates.” In his first triad, there had been little privacy between the males and their mate. Sarsen had never enjoyed sharing intimate moments with the other males, but he saw and heard enough.

  Lucie pulled away and sat up. She reached for her discarded dress but frowned at the badly torn straps. His lips curled in satisfaction at the evidence of their desire.

  “This is funny to you?” She shook the garment at him. “Asche made t
his, and it was lovely. Now it’s rags.”

  “He will make another.” The male lived to serve.

  They all did.

  “That’s not the point.” Her eyes got big and she blew air out slowly, tilting her face to the nightsky. They had been on the verge of a satisfied, post-mating sleep, but now she was on the verge of crying. Sarsen scrambled to his knees, desperate to ease her sorrow. His brothers would storm in, accuse him of all types of unsavory misdeeds to upset their mate, and take her away.

  She was his for the night, and he was not particularly good at sharing.

  “My Lucie—”

  “Sorry. I’m fine. Just a lot of emotions swirling around in my head tonight. You guys know all the worst things about me now and then I ruined the beautiful gifts you gave me.” Her chin wobbled.

  Unacceptable.

  Sarsen gathered her in his arms and pulled her to his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. Ertale said this position calmed her once and it worked again. “We also know the good things about you,” he said. “You gave us our hearts. You set us free when you could have kept us as your slaves.”

  “Anyone would do that.”

  “No. Anyone has not. Only you were kind to lowly valos.”

  “I haven’t really been kind to you,” she muttered.

  “And I ruined the dress, not you.”

  She nodded in agreement before lifting her head. “Tell me about your life before.”

  “Before?”

  “Before she changed you.” Her small human hands swept across his chest, rubbing the raised scars with her impossibly soft palms. “You lived in this village, right?”

  “It was many winters ago.” One thousand and more.

  “So—”

  “So?”

  Lucie sighed dramatically and gestured to the walls of the hut. “What about the glowing stones? Did you make them?”

  “Yes.”

  Another sigh. “You’re not making this easy. I’m trying to get to know you.”

  Sarsen grabbed her hand and pressed it to his heartstone. It pulsed with life. “You know me.”

  She stared at his heartstone for several minutes, lost in thought. Finally, she looked up at him, dark eyes wide. “Do you miss your mate?”

  Time created a barrier between him and the memories of his lost mate, dulling his grief. When the heartstone hollowed him out, he remembered them with crystal clarity and knew logically that he grieved, but he felt no true emotion. Memories grew vague with time. He knew he had a mate. He knew shared her with two triad brothers. He remembered their names, but he could not remember their faces. That pained him.

  “It was many winters ago,” he said.

  She frowned. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, fine. Just say so. Don’t be an evasive dick about it.” That word again.

  “How much did Asche tell you?”

  “Maybe it was Ertale.”

  He snorted. Not likely.

  “Fine. Asche didn’t say much, just that you once had a mate and a different triad before.”

  Sarsen nodded. “That is true. Maru was from the river tribe.”

  “Not from your tribe?”

  “My tribe traded with hers.” Perhaps if she had been of his tribe, she might have survived the transformation into a Fire Valo. “My tribe always had the ability to make the stones glow. We traded them with other tribes.”

  Lucie rolled onto her back and stared up the stars. “Some type of natural mutation, then? And Sheenika’s experiments enhanced your abilities?”

  “I do not know, only that Maru’s people did not have an affinity for fire the way mine did.”

  “Huh.” Then, the question he dreaded, “Do you miss her?”

  “No.”

  Lucie sat up and twisted to face him. “Not even a little?”

  “It was many winters ago.” She sighed at this unsatisfactory answer. He rubbed his heartstone. “We were separated. My brothers and I were captured early by Sheenika. Once my heartstone was installed—”

  “You’re emotions were taken away.”

  “Yes. By then, Maru had been captured. She underwent the same procedure I did, but did not survive.”

  “Because she wasn’t of your tribe.”

  “Yes but many of my tribes did not survive. Not everyone captured was suitable for this form.” A hand waved at his torso and swept downwards. “When I learned they were gone, I did not feel as I should.” He paused, searching for the correct words. “Now that I can feel, it is only a sense of loss. My memories are indistinct and hazy. ”

  She reached for his hand and squeezed.

  “Why do you insist on returning to soil?”

  “What?” A small laugh escaped her, breaking the serious mood.

  “Dirt. Your home.” He frowned, searching for the right word. “Soil? Ground?”

  “Earth.” Another small laugh. He did not see how that was different from what he said.

  “Why must you return?” he asked.

  “I hurt people.”

  “The female human said.”

  “I didn’t intend to, but it happened. I followed orders I knew were bad, I made a… medicine that I knew was bad and would make people sick.”

  “You were a healer?”

  “No. I just did the research for medication. But people died and…” She sighed and shook her head, hair swinging. “I don’t know what I want anymore. I used to think I wanted to clear my name, to right the wrongs against me but now, I don’t know. If I go back, they'll just throw me in prison again.”

  “Do you regret hurting people?”

  “Yes.” Then, in a smaller voice, “Mostly.”

  “My Lucie—”

  “I’m not going to apologize for killing Halliday. He hurt me many times and was trying to kill me.” She picked at imaginary dirt under her fingernails. “You probably think I’m a monster now. I murdered someone and I don’t even feel a little guilty about it.”

  “I have killed other valos. I knew it was wrong but felt no guilt at the time.” Memories of battle with his brethren from other tribes flickered through his mind. Some were tribes who resisted capture and were slaughtered. Others were altered valos and they fought against each other to test their abilities.

  “Did she make you?”

  “Yes, like a child with a toy.” Fire against water, against ice, or stone. “Sheenika’s brother had valos of light. Radiants. We constantly battled one another. Casualties happened.” And neither Creator cared if they lost one or two valos.

  This was not the conversation he wanted to have with his new mate, not when she accepted him for the first time. There were so many better ways to spend their first time together. “Lucie—”

  She looked up at him, eyes wide. “God, your voice is sexy when you do that.”

  Desire rumbled in his chest and he reached for her, sitting her on his lap. “My past was a lifetime ago. Your past is on Earth. I only care for the woman here, now, on Sonhadra.”

  “The woman on your lap.”

  His hands ran down her back, caressing the curve of her ass. Every part of her was soft.

  “Sarsen—”

  “Remember the rules,” he said, nipping at her ears.

  “Yes, Sarsen,” she answered with a gasp as his teeth grazed her neck.

  He rumbled in satisfaction.

  He plucked at her nipples, rolling the delicate pink bud between his fingers before caressing them with his lips. He took his time, exploring his mate’s soft features. He licked her skin and watched her tiny hairs on her arms react to his breath.

  He caressed the folds of her sex, letting his fingers work her to climax. She planted a hand on either shoulders and rode his hand, chanting his name. Finally, when her entire body tensed with release, he placed his cock at her entrance.

  Impossibly hot, she gripped him. He lifted and lowered her, working her like a fist on his cock. She pressed her lips to his, panting and unable to even cry her pleasure.

 
; She came again, eyes flying open and locking with his. He worked her slowly, letting her ripple and squeeze around him until he found his fiery own release.

  He came with a violent eruption and she held him tight, squeezing every last drop from him. He poured into her, hot and fervent, scalding them both with his heat.

  A throat cleared. Lucie gasped, burning her face in Sarsen’s neck.

  At some point Asche entered the hut, laid out the sleeping pad, and they had been too busy to notice.

  “I believe he heard us,” Sarsen mock-whispered to his mate, stroking her hair.

  “Is he upset?” she asked, voice small.

  Sarsen tossed a glance to his brother who sported a ridiculous grin. “No, because he had the opportunity to learn my technique. My skills are known.”

  Lucie groaned. “He watched us?”

  “Was I not supposed to?” Asche asked. Lucie groaned again.

  Sarsen lowered his mate to the soft blankets, arranging her to rest with her head on his chest. “You should not have been here,” he told Asche.

  “You should not have taken our mate on the dusty ground. She is too delicate,” Asche said in an accusatory voice.

  “Guys, get along,” Lucie said. She stifled a yawn. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “She has abrasions on her back.” Asche stroked her shoulder to highlight the area. Sarsen felt a sharp stab of shame. He should have taken better care of his mate. He should have had more control over his actions.

  “I liked it, so chill,” Lucie said.

  Asche huffed.

  “She liked it,” Sarsen mouthed.

  “Shut up,” he said.

  Lucinda

  Large hands lifted her shoulders, the heat from the touch stirred Lucie awake.

  It couldn’t be morning yet, the sky was still dark and Lucie refused to acknowledge that the sun could be inching over the horizon. She wasn’t alone on the sleeping pallet, sensing one of her guys vibrating with energy and the other radiating calm.

  Mmm. Two men in her bed. She remembered the strange excitement she felt sandwiched between Ertale and Asche. Perhaps—

  “You can pretend to sleep, but I know better.” Asche brushed back the hair from her face.

  A large figure pressed against her from behind, surrounding her. On her knees, his thick thighs caged her on either side and his arm wrapped around her middle. Lucie twisted and drew his head down to her, kissing his lips. “Good morning, Ertale.”