by Grey, T. A.
“Are you okay?” Telal said in his familiar deep voice.
Was she okay? Something hot and tight pulled in her chest until a sob broke from her, then another. Tears flowed down her cheeks in fast rivulets. He made a gruff sound and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her in his warm embrace. She felt him cut through her bindings at her wrists and then she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him to her like a child does a teddy bear when they're scared.
She couldn't even be sure what she cried about. Seeing her mother, knowing how they treated her there, or feeling for the first time in her life what it was like to be useless, powerless. Burying her face in his shirt, she let the tears come.
He spoke quietly to her in demonic words she didn't understand. She got their meaning; he was trying to soothe her. And it worked. Like snow melting in the sun, the cold chill of fear melted away bit by bit in his arms. He'd keep her safe; he'd protect her. One arm held her pulled against him so tightly that not a breath of air could pass between them, and the other trailed up and down her back in comforting strokes.
She let out an unsteady breath as the crying finally stopped. Her cheeks were warm from a mixture of crying and embarrassment, her eyes were wet, and now he had a large damp circle on his shirt. She pulled back and let out a ragged laugh; it felt good, eased some of the tension inside her. Then she looked up at his eyes, and stilled.
He watched her with predatory awareness. A tiger about to pounce. His eyes smoldered with needs, some of which she wasn't sure she could identify. His hand swept up into her hair to cup her head, tilted it to the side and her breath caught. She knew what he was about to do and every bone in her body wanted it. Her stomach and core clenched with something tight and hot, her breasts suddenly felt heavy in her bra like she'd break the straps of the flimsy material if she so much as jumped. And her heart raced so fast, so loudly, she heard it roaring in her ears, heard her choppy breathing cutting through the quiet air between them.
His eyes swept down to her mouth and then he leaned forward and caught her lips with his own. He didn't kiss her gently, he took her. His lips pressed hard against hers, his tongue conquering her, sweeping inside in a forceful thrust, paring against hers like he mimicked something else entirely. She moaned as the sensation swept up inside her, wetting her, teasing her, warming her blood like melted chocolate.
Her hands came up to grip the long tendrils of his hair. He groaned in approval then squeezed that arm and wrapped around her tighter, pulling her flush against his hard body. And hard he was. She pressed against him, eager to learn more about him, needing to feel him push against her and relieve the burning heat he created between her legs.
He changed the angle of the kiss, thrusting, circling his tongue heavily into her mouth, licking her lips, biting them, sucking them into his mouth and nibbling it with his sharp teeth. He bent his knees then rocked forward with her hips. A wild moan fluttered out from her as his cock speared against her sex. He growled something in demonic, then arched against her again, bending down then thrusting up against her core, rubbing his long cock against her swollen sex. Even with the obstruction of clothing, she whimpered and tightened her grip in his hair. It just felt so good; she'd never felt anything like it.
With a growing hunger of her own, she nipped back at his lips then thrust her tongue in his mouth, dueling and sucking the wet length. His hands became eager, sweeping down her back to cup her bottom and hold her still as he worked his hips against her, bumping his cock along her clitoris in a way that made everything clench tighter inside her like a coiling spring. She couldn't seem to catch her breath, everything was getting harder: her breathing, her tense muscles, her nipples. There was nothing else in the world except him and her.
A sharp whistle tore her out from her sultry thoughts. She whipped her head to the side just as Telal did and they knocked noses against each other. With a soft giggle she rubbed at the throbbing protrusion.
Atop a small cliff stood Kearnyn. Comprehension slowly came. Of course they wouldn't be back at the Tennessee rift, he probably had no clue she even went there. He'd ported them back to where he'd left from—where ever that was.
“Kearnyn,” Telal acknowledged. His arms were still wrapped around her like a second skin, still holding her bottom in his grip. He slowly opened his fingers then pulled his arms away, and finally took two steps back.
“It's been four hours.”
CHAPTER 19
“Yes, that long,” Telal said, distracted.
His eyes watched her with a mixture of disbelief, desire, and confusion. Then he looked away and the bond between them broke. At Telal's look, Kearnyn hopped down from the cliff, kicking up a black ashy smoke cloud. He came towards them and Telal wasted no time touching both of their arms and porting them again.
Telal's office appeared and with only a glance at Telal she could see he looked as weary as she felt. Suddenly, she felt so tired, exhausted.
Her eyes grew heavy, her muscles lax, and she yawned broadly. “Come on, I'll take you to your room.”
She nodded and started walking with zombie-like steps to the door, but then he came up behind her and scooped her up in his arms. She let out a surprised sound and wrapped an arm around his neck, then when he didn't protest that, laid her heavy head on his shoulder. She sighed. It felt good.
He turned to Kearnyn. “When I get back, we have to talk. Wait here.” Then he was walking to the elevator and they were waiting in it as the machine slowly drifted down to her floor. She kept her heavy eyelids closed the whole time and let her body relax more and more by little increments. He smelled wonderful, sexy and male. He felt even better, strong and agile.
He'd kissed her, done more than that. There was something there. The fact that she hadn't made that up in her twisted mind brought a smile to her face. He opened the door and kicked it shut behind him. She opened her eyes at the cold, modern hotel-style room. Her few meager items were still on the dresser and floor. The sheets still ruffled and pulled down. It all looked the same, but it felt so much different now. He walked her to the bed, tightening his hold on her as he reached down to pull the covers back.
“Want your shoes off?” he asked in a gruff, quiet voice. She was so tired she could barely talk so she just nodded and toed them off. He set her in and pushed her legs under the covers, then pulled them up to her chest. She just looked up at him, trying to figure out what she should say about everything. He looked awful. Handsome, but awful. Lines etched across his forehead, his eyebrows were drawn down in consternation, and his lips down in a frown.
He started to pull away and she reached up, her fingertips gliding across his cheek and lips. “Don't be sad.” She didn't know how, but she'd do everything in her power to make things right, to help him. He jerked his head to the side in a 'no'.
No what? He couldn't not be sad or did he not want her to touch him? He stood and started to turn away but at the last moment, came back around and leaned down over her.
“Telal,” she said softly.
He half-laughed, who knew what about. “I like you better like this.” She pulled back in confusion.
“Like what?” He only shook his head again and pressed his lips against hers, softly, the touch barely there. Then he pulled away and went to the door. His eyes scanned the room one last time as if making sure it was clear of perpetrators. His eyes caught on something on the floor—probably her mess of clothes. He walked to the other side of the room and picked up and empty jar.
Lily's stomach hit the floor, her pulse raced. He brought the jar to his nose and sniffed, cringing.
“What is this?”
“For my pain.” His eyes lifted to hers.
“Should I make you some?”
Her heart melted. That he'd do that for her now almost made her want to cry.
She shook her head. “No, I don't hurt badly. Just some sore arms.” He nodded then set the jar on the dresser, then glanced down at the floor and picked up her other empty jar. He sm
elled that one too. “This one doesn't smell nearly as bad. Two different potions?”
Her heart pumped double time. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Y-yes. Both for healing. One to heal faster, the other for pain.” Nodding, he set the empty jar next to the other one. At the door he turned back to her. “Good night, Lily.”
“Goodnight, Telal.” He left, closing the door quietly behind him. Only after she heard the elevator at the end of the hall ding, did she spring out of bed and race to the jars. She gripped them both, hugging them to her chest. That was so close, too close. Her mind raced, panicked. She'd lied to him. God that felt bad. Really bad. She wanted to go straight up to him now and confess. But she couldn't. They'd made so much progress, real progress. He'd talked to her for the first time tonight not in that snide, condescending way.
Fingers trembling she put away the pain jar and took the other over to her sack of goodies from Rosa's. The sweats came again, her fingers trembling. She'd been so tired before, reading to pass out and forget all about tonight, but now she'd seen the jar. No way could she get it out of her mind now. She mixed the herbs and liquid then poured it into the jar. She sniffed it delicately and grimaced. It did smell awful. Her stomach clenched with need and revulsion. Revulsion not at the drink but at herself.
Wrapping an arm around herself, she stared at the foggy liquid and when the first tear slid down her cheek she swiped it away quickly. With three big gulps, she drained the jar. It fell loosely from her fingertips, rolling a few circles across the fancy white carpet. Her head whirled, the room spinning around her for a moment. She felt dizzy as the warmth spread throughout her body and cells. It took longer than usual for the feeling to come. She'd missed her evening drink, that's all.
The word withdrawal came to mind, but she quickly shoved it out of her mind. Then the feeling came.
Joy, pure happiness, rapture.
Lily fell back on the carpet, laughing, her lips split in a big grin. Her body felt amazing, loose, and warm. Her mind was quiet and happy, no nasty thoughts intruding.
Smiling until her cheeks hurt, she climbed across the floor and up into bed where he'd pulled the sheets back. She tucked herself in and felt—amazing.
CHAPTER 20
Kearnyn headed to Telal's office after a fitful night's sleep. This was definitely unusual for him because normally something really fucked up would have to happen to make him miss sleep. Even during war times, ages ago, when his shift was over he'd hunker down in his trench, pull up his furs with his sword clenched between his hands, and pass out like a baby to sounds of clashing metal and cries of pain. It was just how he was made. He slept heavy and deep like a hibernating bear.
But not last night. Last night he'd tossed and turned going so far as to turn completely around in his bed and try sleeping with his head at the foot of the extra-long frame. Didn't work. It's not like he'd had a whole lot on his mind. He hadn't. But something didn't feel right; he just didn't know what it was.
Of course, Telal looked like a mess last night. He'd never seen Telal look like that. There'd been only a few times he'd seen his boss even disheveled. The first had been when the news came that Tobius en Kulev had been killed and the other was last night. Everything about Telal had been off. His demeanor, his words, his look. He'd been passive, everything he said sounded like an afterthought. He'd looked...sad. Whatever happened in that rift had been bad, that much he knew.
Kearnyn bit back a curse as he went into the office. He stopped at once. The room was dark. What the... He checked his watch to make sure of the time. 6:00 in the morning on the dot. Telal was always up and working right now. Fuck, this must be worse than he'd thought.
Switching on the lights as he went, he opened Telal's bedroom door and flicked on the light switch. The lights flickered on to show an empty bed without as much as a wrinkle in the perfectly made comforter. Not a scrap of clothes were left on the floor—nothing.
This had to be really bad.
Kearnyn thought for a moment, and then went with his gut. He knew where he was.
Back at the elevator, he hit the button for floor thirty-five. The doors dinged open and a short path down the hall was a solid white door with a key code on the side. Kearnyn punched in the digits and the door unlocked with a whoosh of compressed air. Inside he heard a mixture of blaring noises, a television and music playing at the same time at a decibel that even a deaf person could hear. Cringing at the offensive sounds, he walked inside not knowing what to expect.
“Shit,” he cursed.
The rec room was Telal's personal space. To Telal, the space was more personal than his bedroom or office. This was where he went if he wanted to work out, meditate, or in this case...get stinking drunk while blaring every electronic in the apartment.
Telal sat in a leather chair, a beer in one hand, a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. The Jack had only a sliver of liquid left inside. Only when Telal lifted the beer can to his lips did Kearnyn sigh with relief. At least he was still alive. Telal faced a large flat screen television that took up most of the wall with some kind of horror flick playing on it. A woman was running from a masked man with a big butcher's knife in his hand. Kearnyn smirked at it. Somehow, though she was running and he walking, the killer seemed to keep pretty darn close to her the whole time.
Stalking to the radio, blaring some kind of rap with a throbbing beat, Kearnyn killed the power. Instantly, the tension in his head eased. The woman on the television screamed as the killer neared her. Her cry seemed to pierce straight through his ear drums.
Kearnyn was trained for many things—picking up after his slobbering drunk boss was not one of them. Still, he went to him and hunkered down to meet him on eye level.
“Sir...” Shit, he stalled for words. He didn't know what to say.
Telal's gaze slowly slid from the TV to him. His eyes were red, glossy, and low-lidded. On closer inspection, everything about him looked wrong. His blue hair looked like a bird had made a nest out of it. It was fuzzy and matted like he'd spilled something in it; and its normal sheen looked dull and lifeless.
“Where'd the music go?” he slurred.
“I turned it off, sir. Can I help you get to your room?”
One eyebrow lifted. “Why'd I wanna go there? That song was my jam.”
Kearnyn frowned. This was more awkward and difficult than he'd thought it'd be. “'Yous a hoe' is your jam, sir?”
“Yes, in fact, buy me the rest of that artist's albums. I want all of his music. Pure genius, Kearnyn. Genius.”
“Yes...sir.” Kearnyn stood, not knowing what to do. “Sir, can I get you something? Food, water, a bed perhaps?”
Telal choked on a laugh. “You are funny, my friend. No, if you don't mind leave me now. I wish to drown alone, thank you.”
Drown alone? That sounded like some suicidal shit right there. Kearnyn took the bottle of Jack and beer out of Telal's hands and stalked to the kitchen. He'd leave, but first he was tossing all this shit out.
“Where are you going?” Telal asked in a deadly voice.
Suddenly pressure encased Kearnyn's body; his steps stopped, leg muscles spasming from some outside source, and tight suffocating pain enveloped him from head to toe. Fuck, not his magic. Sweat pooled on his brow. Burning pain breached his skin, singeing his nerves like he was standing over a fire. Then of their own accord, his body turned and he marched back to Telal. Telal’s glare held a spark of deep hatred that Kearnyn had never seen before. When Telal tore the bottle and can out of his hand he actually sighed in relief. As soon as he had them back, the look receded. The burning magic around him faded until he regained movement in his own body.
“Do not interrupt me until I say so. Got me, Kearnyn?”
“Yeah, I got you.” Kearnyn made his way for the door.
“Turn the music back on.”
Rolling his eyes, Kearnyn hit the power switch on the radio. 'Yous a Hoe' came blasting through the speaker system, the bass loud enough to demolish an old bui
lding.
“I'm going to Rosa's to check on production of the weapons.” The only indication he received that Telal heard him was the bottle of Jack being raised in a salute in the air. “What about your guest?” The hand paused in mid-air then slowly lowered back into his lap.
Even over the loud music and the terrifying screams of someone being murdered on the TV, he still heard Telal's low demand. “Do not tell her where I am.”
Kearnyn shook his head. “You got it.”
CHAPTER 21
A brisk knock came at the door.
Arianna closed the journal she'd been writing in and went to answer it. She recognized the steward from the other night and instantly her gut tightened.
“Yes?”
“King Alrik has commanded your presence.”
Oh, God. “Well, I will have to change.”
The steward shook his head. “I'm afraid he's ordered your presence immediately.”
Arianna nodded, feeling like this couldn't be happening to her. Oh, but it was. She closed and locked the door behind her then followed the steward down the hall. She still hadn't recovered from their last dinner together, and it was too early for dinner now. Maybe he wanted to have breakfast with her. Or maybe he wanted... No, she couldn't think about that. That's all she'd been thinking about since he told her.
And now things had changed. She'd seen Telal, her betrothed, for the first time since the war. His appearance was like seeing someone brought back from the grave, she'd been shocked beyond belief and excited to see him. Then he'd publicly denounced their marriage. And that was that. Her opinion made no difference on the matter. Now Alrik wanted her for...sex. Even thinking it made strange feelings grow inside her, made breathing difficult. Who could have thought that such a simple task could be so troubling?