Night Shift

by Nalini Singh

  Oh, no. No teasing. She reached back and gripped his thick hair. “Now.”

  He thrust into her. Oh, Vela. She cried the goddess’s name, because even though her sheath was soaked by her need there was pain as he filled her with two broad fingers instead of one.

  Kavik froze behind her. “Mala?”

  “Don’t stop.” With a breathless moan, she rocked her hips back and forced him deeper. “Take me hard, warrior.”

  A groan rumbled through his chest, and she felt the sharp bite of his teeth on the lobe of her ear before he abruptly rolled her onto her stomach and followed her over, his weight pinning her torso to the furs and his cock heavy against her hip. His fingers pushed into her again—slowly, so slowly. Mala screamed and tried to come up on her knees, to force him to a deeper angle. His foot against her ankle shoved her legs wide, denying her leverage. Leisurely he stroked into her, again and again. Cheek pressed into the furs, crying out with each deliciously torturous thrust, she desperately worked her hand beneath her stomach and down to her clitoris. Trapped beneath the weight of her pelvis, she could barely do more than wriggle her fingers, but it was enough, and the painful tension began to spiral more quickly toward the end.

  Kavik’s slick fingers glided past hers and paused. She was discovered. Mala stilled, grinning into the furs, her body a taut, throbbing ache.

  A chuckle sounded above her. “Now, little dragon?”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  He set his teeth against her shoulder and drove his fingers deep. Oh, sweet gods—like this. Mala cried his name and Kavik struck a brutal pace, the heel of his palm pounding her ass with each thrust of his hand. Pinned with her legs widespread, she couldn’t move, could only take every rough stroke. Orgasm roared upon her like a charging beast. Screaming, she came in a hard rush, her slick channel constricting tighter around him with each convulsion that jolted through her flesh.

  Then she lay limp, with his chest a heaving bellows against her sweating back. She groaned when his thick fingers slipped from inside her, until he pulled her against him again.

  “Every night I will sheathe myself within you,” he said roughly and pushed his thigh between hers, so that her slick, heated flesh rode against heavy muscle. “After your moon night, it won’t be my fingers but my cock, and each day I will have you until my seed overflows your well and runs in a river down your thighs.”

  “I hope that is a vow.” With a yawn of sheer exhaustion, Mala snuggled closer and closed her eyes. Her voice was thick with sleep as she said, “Happy dreams, warrior.”

  His arms tightened around her. “I do not need them.”

  CHAPTER 6

  He did not need happy dreams and, in the nights following, he did not receive happy ones. Kavik held her in his arms but in his dreams Mala was walking away, and no matter how he raced he could not catch up to her. But these dreams meant nothing, because upon waking he would have her again. He gave her pleasure and took his whenever and however he wanted.

  He was not tamed. Even if his heart was not his own. Even if he could never have enough of her touch or her laugh. Even if he never wanted to face a dawn without her.

  He stood firm. For although she believed his taming would not be cruel, Kavik knew it must be. Vela had sent Mala to bring him to his knees again.

  So even when she lay so softly against him, her face flushed with sleep, Kavik did not kiss her awake as he wanted to. He watched her, his chest filled with an ever-deepening ache. He stood firm. But for how long? He would do anything for her. If she knew how his heart lay in her hand, soon he might be putting the collar on himself.

  But hiding his heart would not be enough. He needed to persuade her beyond any doubt that he would never give in. He needed to push her away, because he weakened with her every touch.

  It would not be today, though. Today they would reach the dark river that tumbled down the nearby mountains. Tomorrow they would cross the fouled waters, and Kavik would continue leading her farther away from the demon tusker’s den. He had seen too many men killed by that evil, and he would not see Mala hurt by it, too.

  Even if it meant his life, Kavik would never see her hurt.

  She stirred against him, lashes fluttering and a soft smile on her lips. He remained still as she turned in his arms. After so many mornings, he didn’t need to tell her what he wanted; his body spoke for him. But as she skimmed lower, her mouth brushed his shoulder, then his chest, and she repeatedly touched her lips to his skin as she moved down his rigid stomach.

  Each kiss was a sweet knife. He couldn’t bear it.

  Roughly he gripped her hair. “Take my cock,” he commanded hoarsely. “Now.”

  She did. So hot. So hard. She gave him what he wanted, needed. He controlled this. He was not tamed. She was.

  And it mattered not that he thought he might die without her.

  THE sun had finally come to Blackmoor, but the cursed land looked no happier for its warmth. Along the great river, blackwood trees lay twisted and dry. Bones strewed the rocky banks, animal and human, as if those who had drank directly from the waters had immediately fallen dead.

  Though it was long before sunset, they stopped to camp within an arrow’s flight of the river. A stone bridge lay farther south, but it was gated, and Barin’s soldiers only allowed travelers to pass through while the sun was up. Kavik had told her it was better to sleep at least a half day’s ride away and cross at midday, because bandits were never as much trouble under cover of darkness as the bored soldiers at the bridge garrison were.

  Although Mala might have enjoyed a fight, she would enjoy an undisturbed night with Kavik more—and a bath. Her last had been at the Croaking Frog, and for a quarter turn she’d made do with wiping herself down with a damp rag. So as he built the fire, she retrieved a small packet of soap and a cloth from her packs.

  “See that the others stay away from the waters,” Mala said to Shim, who had taken to watching over the horses when they weren’t traveling. “I will let you know when it is safe.”

  Small bones cracked between her bare feet and the rounded stones at the edge of the river. It was unfortunate that she and Kavik couldn’t cross at this spot instead of requiring a bridge. But the recent rains had swelled the waters, and although they flowed placidly near the banks, the current at the middle appeared deep and swift.

  After unbraiding her hair, she shed her clothes and stood before the lapping waters, wearing only a knife strapped to her thigh. There was no ritual required for this. Only honesty. “Vela, most gracious of goddesses,” she prayed softly. “I am your servant, awed and humbled by your protection. I need it now, for these waters are fouled, and only your power can cleanse them. Take my body as your vessel and my faith as your due.”

  Soap in hand, Mala stepped in. Braced for icy cold, she was pleased to find it merely cool. Bliss. She waded out to her waist, where the current was still only a constant, gentle push against her legs.

  She didn’t feel Vela move through her; she never did. Some priestesses said they were filled with ice, others described it like fire. But however the goddess worked through Mala, it was quiet, like a breath.

  Holding hers, she dunked her head.

  Kavik’s shout met her ears when she came up. Bellowing her name, he raced toward her, his powerful stride tearing across the distance. Alarmed, she unsheathed her knife and scanned the water’s surface. Had some monster survived the poisonous waters?

  Slowly, so as not to attract any creature’s attention, she started back toward the river’s edge.

  Eyes feral, Kavik charged directly toward her across the rocks and splashed into the river. “Out of the water, Mala!” Desperation hoarsened his voice as he reached for her. “Out!”

  Heart thundering, she searched the water again. “What is—”

  Kavik’s fingers snagged her wrist. Dragging her against him, he hooked his arm beneath her legs and forged toward the shoreline. At the rocks, he dropped to his knees beside her clothes and began
scrubbing her wet skin with her cloak. Lips white, his face was a mask of anguish. “Did you drink any?”

  Understanding swept over her. The fouled water. He must have been certain she would be poisoned. That she would be dead within a few breaths.

  Yet he’d charged into the same water after her.

  Mala cupped his face in her hands, forced him to look at her, and could barely stand the devastation in his eyes. “I told you that Vela would protect me,” she said softly. “That she would cleanse any water I need.”

  “A wineskin,” he said harshly. “She cannot cleanse a fouled river.”

  “She can, warrior. She did. It will be safe from the headwaters to the end.” She stroked her fingers along his bristled jaw. “Now come and bathe with me.”

  Chest heaving, he shook his head. With a sigh, she rose from his arms. She hadn’t taken a step before he caught her hand, frowning up at her.

  “You are not going back in?”

  “Of course I am. I haven’t properly washed, and the water holds no danger now.”

  Anger hardened his face. “You could not have known that when you first stepped in. It was a fool’s risk.”

  “That is faith, warrior. It wouldn’t be very strong if I required proof before I believed in her power. But Vela does want us to believe in her, because she must work through us—and we would have no reason to allow it if she didn’t keep her promises. She only asks that I keep mine.” Still holding his hand, she took another step toward the water. “Perhaps you don’t trust the goddess. Trust me instead.”

  Tension coiled in her chest as she waited, then constricted painfully when he let go of her fingers. Blindly she turned to the water. So he didn’t trust her. It mattered not. One day he would, because she was patient and stubborn, and never would she give him any reason to believe she might betray him. She would keep her promises, too.

  But her eyes still stung, so she bathed her face in the cool water, then went under completely so that the ache in her heart could be blamed on her lungs.

  Kavik was wading naked into the river when she emerged, his fierce gaze fixed on her face. “Either you are right,” he said roughly, “or I will die with you.”

  Reaching for her, his fingers delved into her wet hair. But no command followed this time. No down. No now.

  Instead his mouth descended upon hers. A kiss. Like sweet fire, he singed her lips with a possessive taste that slowly gentled as he lingered over her mouth, returning to it again and again. Mala clung to him, loving his strength, loving this tenderness.

  When he finally lifted his head, she told him, “We will not die,” and her voice was thick. “But if we do, our corpses will smell better than they would have before we bathed.”

  His grin loosened every painful ache inside her. Easily he lifted her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist before moving deeper into the water. “We must not smell as bad as revenant yet. You have tasted me many times these past days.”

  “Much better than revenant.” Mala lay her head on his shoulder and held him close. “But I would have you anyway, warrior.”

  MALA washed his hair, and Kavik thought there could be no greater pleasure until he took the soap and lathered every stretch of her beautiful skin. Touching her was the greater pleasure. Kissing her was. He followed each spot that she rinsed with a tender press of his lips.

  He should not. Kavik knew he should not let himself touch her like this. But after seeing her in the water, he knew how it might feel to lose her—and that when he pushed her away, it would tear his heart from his chest. It mattered not if he began his torture early. This was all he would have of her until the end.

  She slipped her strong arms around his neck, the movement lifting her small breasts. The water lapped her erect nipples. Suddenly ravenous for a taste, Kavik bent his head.

  Mala stiffened against him. “Wait.”

  He looked up. She had not denied him. Instead her gaze had fixed farther down the riverbank, where Shim and the other horses had been splashing through the shallows, nipping and kicking at each other. Playing, Mala had said, and Kavik had ignored their whinnies and squeals. But now the stallion let loose a more strident neigh as he faced the west, nose in the air and snorting.

  “Revenants?” Mala called.

  The stallion shook his head, then with nips to their hindquarters began herding the others toward camp.

  Frowning, Mala glanced up at Kavik before starting for the shore. “The demon tusker?”

  Shim whinnied impatiently and shook his head again.

  “Humans?”

  A stamp of his hoof answered her.

  “Humans,” Mala said to Kavik and swept her cloak over her shoulders before collecting her clothes from the shoreline. “Maybe bandits, maybe travelers. Do you see them?”

  Fastening his belt and furs, Kavik scanned the western horizon. The rolling landscape that led down to the river was not in their favor. “Not yet.”

  But it did not take long after they’d returned to the camp to recognize a squad of Barin’s soldiers, the sun glinting off their polished helms. Riding quickly, they headed directly toward the camp.

  “From the bridge garrison?” Mala asked him, tightening her armor. Her dark hair hung long and wet over her shoulders.

  “No.” Kavik had spotted the dogs running ahead of the soldiers. “They’ve tracked us.”

  Her full lips twisted with irritation. “Sent by Barin?”

  “We’ll find out.”

  Not by waiting at camp for them to arrive—their position would be too much of a disadvantage. Mounted, they rode out to meet the soldiers. Only a dozen of them. If Barin meant to kill Kavik and Mala, he’d have sent more.

  The company leader slowed at their approach and Kavik recognized the captain of the citadel guard. Red-faced and sweating, Heddiq was more accustomed to sitting for meals in the citadel garrison than hard riding.

  At two hundred paces, Heddiq rose his fist and shouted across the distance, “Halt! We have a message for the questing one.”

  For Mala. When Kavik looked to her, she was regarding the soldiers with pursed lips. Finally she murmured something to Shim, who slowed to a walk. Kavik reined in his gelding.

  She slid him an amused glance. “It seems that whatever the message is, they do not want to be too near us when they deliver it.” Lifting her voice, she called out, “What is this message?”

  “It is of two parts, and from our glorious Lord Barin!” Heddiq shouted. “He wishes you to know that a cleansed river will only bring the demon tusker from his den more often! You do not help anyone, and many will likely die when the demon emerges!”

  Her expression flattened. “And the second part?”

  Heddiq’s horse pranced uneasily and backed up, as if the man’s hands were hard and nervous on the bit. “Our glorious lord grows weary of waiting! You must bring the tamed beast to his hall by the new moon.”

  “And if I do not?”

  “He will kill the son of Karn and you will fail your quest!”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion. She glanced to Kavik. “The king’s son still lives? Why would his death affect my quest?”

  His heart a burning weight, he could only return her gaze. Her lips suddenly parted and she sucked in a sharp breath. Abruptly Shim reared and pivoted. Mala’s red cloak flared open over his back, and Kavik had never seen anything so fierce and beautiful as when she faced the soldiers again.

  “Return this message!” she shouted. “The goddess Vela guides my blade, and when her hand is upon my sword, it will cut even a sorcerer’s neck from his shoulders! And to make sure the message is delivered properly, piss on him as you speak it! Now, run!”

  The captain of the guard only hesitated a moment before giving the signal. With a thunder of hooves, the company started south. Mala stared after them with clenched jaw.

  “Heddiq won’t piss on Barin,” Kavik said. The guard would probably be too afraid to relay her message at all. “But he likely ju
st pissed on himself.”

  “Heddiq?” She whirled to face him. “That was the captain of the citadel guard?”

  “He is.”

  Rare indecision warred upon her features. “I had never seen him. But I warned those raping pig guards that if ever I did, I would kill him.” She looked to Kavik. “Barin must have known that when he sent him. It can’t be usual for a guard to ride with mounted soldiers.”

  “It’s not.”

  “More of Barin’s amusements, perhaps,” she said softly. “He must have expected me to kill him. But I will not be yanked by a leash any more than you will. So Heddiq has a reprieve. Now that I know his face, however, he will not have one again.” She looked to the river. “Is it true what he said of the demon tusker—that it will emerge early to foul the waters again?”

  “It might be.” Kavik nudged his mount back toward camp. “Or Barin might hope to stop you from cleansing them again. His concern is not for the people, but how to control them—though I don’t know how he knew to send the message when you cleansed the river only today.”

  “Shortly after I began following you, I cleansed the river just north of Perca,” she said. “Shim was thirsty.”

  Kavik frowned. “Did you tell anyone?”

  She shook her head. “It would do more harm than good if people knew and began to use the waters, then they were befouled again. I would not have said anything of it until we slew the demon tusker. We need to return to the city. If Barin spoke true, then the demon will soon come to that river.”

  “Or this one.”

  But even as he said it, Kavik knew there was little choice. If Barin spoke truth, then many villages north of Perca would be in the demon’s path. Far fewer people lived near this river. So instead of leading her away from the demon tusker, Kavik would ride with her toward it.