by Nya Rayne
The words came to him as if they had been painted in neon yellow on a black chalkboard in a room devoid of light. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, he placed a hand over her heart and said, in a voice so unlike his own it stunned him, “Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. I give myself to you as only I could. My soul is complete, forever in your keeping. We are one breath, one heart, one soul, one life through this life and the next. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. You were chosen for me and I for you. Everything I am is you. Everything you are is me. Without me you are nothing, without you I am nothing. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.”
Stormy arched up against him, her body rigid beneath his, and her face contorted in pleasure. “Keeper of my soul,” she breathed out in a slow hiss, her voice dazed, not her own. “Protector of my heart. Owner of my love, my devotion. I am yours. I accept you as my one true chosen, and give to you myself as only I could. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. I give myself to you as only I could.”
A pulse of energy built and grew within him, spreading throughout his body with the swiftness of water from a busted dam. It wrapped around him, reached out to Stormy, and pulled their souls together, binding them for all time. He knew nothing of a beginning or ending where they were concerned.
A voice he hadn’t heard in far too many centuries came from the darkest crevices of his mind. She is of me. I give her to you for all time to protect, to keep as only you can. You are now one unit from this life into the next. Protect and keep for all time, what is mine. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, he spoke in their long dead and forgotten ancient language, and it felt like home.
As quickly as the voice came it was gone, leaving but an echo of itself rattling through Fury’s mind. Anubis. My Lord. My creator. My father, thank you. I will protect her as I have protected no other.
Stormy gasped, her body rolling against his as she opened teary green eyes to him. She encircled his neck, her head falling back as a scream of pleasure—or was it pain?—tore from her lips. Had he not known for a fact she wasn’t aware of what was taking place, Fury would’ve sworn she was a willing participant.
He kissed her eyes, nose, and cheeks. He tried to calm his rapid breathing as the pulse at the base slit of his penis began to decrease, telling him it was done.
As her breathing evened out, he pulled her close, settling them back on the ground. Fury wrapped his body around hers and prayed, At least let her pretend to listen to me when I try to explain.
Had he thought this through a little more, any moment during the act of making love to her would’ve been the perfect time to point out the location of her ankh mark. But like everything else when dealing with her, he had done it ass backwards. He could’ve done it in a seductive manner. Maybe run his tongue across the spot as he whispered, “It’s right here, love, I’m licking it. Can you feel me?”
Yeah, he was a complete and total clown when it came to Stormy. Fury sighed and placed a gentle kiss to her temple.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Stormy raked her fingers through her wet hair before pulling it back to the nape of her neck. She wrapped the ponytail portion around the base of her hand and used a thin bamboo splinter she had peeled off one of the candle holders to shove through her makeshift bun to hold it in place.
She stepped back and smiled as she peered at her reflection. Only heaven knew where Fury had gotten the dress she was wearing, but she liked it. Made of soft white cotton with lace around the hem and at the bodice, the dress was cool against her skin. It hugged her body from her breasts down to her waist and flared out at her hips. It was a perfect fit.
With one last look at her reflection, she turned to the door as a soft breeze fluttered in through the windows, ruffling the curtains and sending the delightful aroma of food to her empty stomach.
He was a man who could cook—how many women wouldn’t kill for that? She sighed and proceeded through the door and down the hall to the outdoor kitchen. He was going to make someone very happy. A knot formed in the area of her heart, but she pushed past it.
It was better this way. It was the only way it could be.
Stormy stopped short of the sliding glass door that emptied out onto the back deck. Fury was standing with his back to her. Gorgeous. He had on nothing but a pair of jeans. They wrapped around his well-defined thighs tight enough to give an onlooker just enough to fantasize about, and they accentuated his ass quite nicely. His feet were bare, his hair loose and hanging down around his shoulders.
When she had woken to find him gone, she’d reached for him instantly in the way he said chosen mates could without a second thought. It wasn’t until he responded to her that she was able to relax enough to regain her self-control. If that wasn’t bad enough, she was also lingering in his mind instead of severing contact with him altogether. Something had definitely changed, at least for her, but damn if she knew exactly what it was.
She wanted to run to him, to throw herself in his arms. But she held back as she had been doing since she woke from her nap after their tryst in the forest. As much as she wanted to deny it, she had to admit she felt different where he was concerned: more connected to him, more drawn to him.
An unseen thread tugged at her heart. What are you thinking, Stormy? You can’t stay with him. No amount of begging and pleading—or hell, wishing—is going to change that. Stormy closed her eyes and tried to swallow back the emotions building in her throat. I have to get out of here.
In her short years of living, she’d learned three truths: No matter how heartfelt a promise of forever was, in the end, they were all broken; the only person who wouldn’t break her heart was her; and homes and families were given to the undeserving while the deserving was left with the rotting, maggot-filled scraps.
“Are you a peeping Tammy now?”
Stormy blushed and looked away from him; she’d been caught. She shuffled her feet, and knocked the toe of her slipper against the Peruvian tile floor. “I was just admiring your choice of body art, is all.”
Fury turned to face her, a pair of silver tongs clasped in his hand. His lips parted only to close again, his eyes roaming her body from head to toe and back in a devilishly sinful manner.
Stormy squirmed under his perusal and took a subconscious step back. “What? Do I have a green fella hanging out my nose?” She tugged at the material of the dress as if it was the cause of her discomfort.
“Not at all. I knew the dress would look nice on you, but I didn’t think you would take my breath away in it.”
Stormy laughed and her entire body relaxed. “How long have you been waiting to use that line?” When she noticed he wasn’t going to answer her, she asked, “So you going to tell me about this mysterious tattoo of yours?” She ran the palm of her hand across his back and the blackness within seemed to rise up against her hand as if it had a life of his own.
“It’s my jackal.”
“Wait, you mean that animal you transform into—”
“Yep. Every Anubi male was created with a mark similar to this. It’s located in other places on their bodies. Depending on how big the jackal is it could take up anywhere from one arm to the entire body.”
“Amazing.” She ran the tips of her fingers across his lower back and watched in astonishment as the blackness swelled and bent, reaching out to touch her.
Fury turned away from her and back to what he was cooking. “It does that only for you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are my mate.”
“Wait, you can feel it move?”
“Of course, like you and I, I’m one with it.” He glanced back at her before directing his attention back to his pot.
Her mind reached for his without provocation, but at the very last second she stopped herself by turning her attention to her surroundings. The trees seemed greener than before and so much fuller. The moon was brighter, it’s reflection off the ocean luminescent. Come to think of it, all the colors around her seemed so much more vibrant
. It was like she’d been seeing through a pair of cheap shades until now, and someone had taken them off.
She shook her head and turned her attention back to the chef of sorts. “What are you cooking?”
“Lomo Saltado; it’s a local dish,” Fury answered over his shoulder. The way he spoke each syllable with a pointed roll of his tongue gave her the impression that he spent a large amount of time in Peru. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.” Stormy sidled next to him, her shoulder brushing against the side of his biceps.
In a cast iron wok, he had tomato slices, onions, peppers, and chunks of chicken cooking in a reddish-brown bubbling mixture. It looked and smelled delicious. Her stomach gave its agreement by rumbling twice in a three second period.
“I think someone’s famished.” Fury gazed down at her, one side of his supple mouth curving up into a smile.
Ducking her head to hide her chagrin, she said with a tone not laced with half as much sarcasm as she would have liked, “Aren’t you a man of all trades? You can kidnap a woman, screw her until she can barely think straight, and then fill her stomach with foods she never knew existed. And all at the same time too. You’re quite a catch, Fury.”
He shot her a look that warmed her heart and made her stomach forget it was empty. “When a person has lived for a hundred lifetimes, he tends to perfect certain aspects of his life.”
Stormy rolled her eyes and stepped over to the banister separating them from the expansive backyard which ended at the ocean. “Did you perfect all of those?” she questioned softly, her back to him.
“No, just the cooking part.” He moved in her direction and her heart skipped a beat and then two. “I have no intention of ever kidnapping anyone else, so that one will remain undone.”
“So, you finally admit you kidnapped me?”
He chuckled low, his arms going to either side of her, blocking her exit. “I never denied it.”
“You’re splitting hairs again.” Stormy shivered against him. Not from the cold, but from the tingles building in every extremity of her body.
Fury ran the tip of his nose in a slow line from the back of her left ear to her shoulder and back. “No more talk about that; I was hoping you would help me perfect my seduction skills.”
“You appear to be doing fine.” Stormy swallowed and glanced over her shoulder at him. A severe throb, bordering on painful, built in her sex and spread outward.
He leaned down, trailed the tip of his tongue down along her shoulder, and used one large hand to palm her abdomen and drag her back against his hard chest. “I’ll never get tired of tasting you, feeling you, and wanting you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Fury?” Her voice wavered as if she were a schoolgirl trying to talk herself out of a fight.
“Ambrosia.” Her name rolled off his tongue as he nibbled his way down the back of her neck in an agonizingly slow manner.
Never before in her life had she liked her given name. Stormy shivered and spun to face her seducer. His gray eyes met hers seconds before his head dipped and his lips captured hers in a searing kiss. Stormy leaned into him, wanting him like she’d never wanted anything else in her life. His kisses burned and his touch left blisters in their wake. Yes, she wanted him, but even more so, she had begun to need him, to crave him.
It was for that reason she pushed away from him, her hands slipping from around his neck to settle on his chest reluctantly. A little voice whispered, “One last time. Just one last time and never again.” But she knew that with him if she didn’t say no now, she never would. Stormy leaned into him, her forehead resting in the center of his chest. “Fury, we need to talk.”
He gazed down at her as his hands slipped lower down her backside. “Okay, but then we get back to you, me, and this sweet little ass of yours, right?”
“I’m being serious,” she said unable to hold back her smile. “I’ve been thinking about the last few days. The things I’ve learned about you and the Anubi, and though I find it all fascinating, I can’t…” Stormy cleared her throat. “I like you.”
“That’s great to know, but—” he pulled her closer and ran his hands over her hips and ass slowly “—I think you more than like me.”
She giggled and pushed away from him. “I like you, okay, and I kind of wish we’d met under different circumstances,” she admitted, “but if what you say about the ankh and chosen mates is true, I’m not the one you’re meant for.” That knot in the vicinity of her heart tightened, but Stormy refused to recognize it.
Eyes narrowed, Fury stepped back from her. He turned to the nearest patio chair and sat down, his chin coming to rest on his raised fist. “As usual, you have my undivided attention.”
“Your secrets will be safe with me, but I can’t hang around hoping you never come to your senses.” Stormy moved to him, kneeling between his open legs and wondered, Why the hell does he look so serene about all of this? Doesn’t he understand I’m breaking up our nonexistent relationship?
“So, if you had the mark you would stay with me. Is that what you’re saying?”
Would I? Maybe, but it doesn’t change the fact that I would still be hunted. He would be in danger simply because he was around me. She looked away from him. “I-I don’t know,” she lied. “Maybe I’d be more willing to try, but even then, Fury, with the life I’ve been forced to lead—”
He cut her off. “You know how you’ve been running through my mind all day?” She blushed and tried to look away, but he caught her chin and turned her face back to him. “I want you to do that now, Ambrosia. There’s something I want to show you.”
“Fury?”
He shook his head, cutting her off again. “Just do it and no back talk this time.” Fury tugged her up and into his lap.
“It won’t change anything. Whatever you have to show me—”
He cut her off once more, his hand squeezing her hip in a gentle reprimand. “You can feel it can’t you? That something is different between us. You don’t know exactly what it is, but you feel closer to me. You need to touch me more often than before, to know I’m all right. You feel, although your nature is to deny it, like you belong with me. You need me.”
“I…” She wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t. Not with a straight face anyway. “It means nothing. I’m attracted to you, we’ve had sex. It’s only natural that after a few times I grow a little attached to you.”
“We did not have sex. We made love,” he clarified.
“Whatever.”
Fury leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. “Your denial is as infuriating as it is endearing.”
She looked away from him, heat rising in her cheeks and spreading out across her face and neck. “I’m going to kill you one day,” she murmured.
“I know, but until then.” Fury took her chin between thumb and forefinger and turned her face back to him. “One last time. That’s what you told me earlier today, isn’t it? Do this one last thing for me, and I’ll consider letting you go. I might even take you back to that disgusting place where I found you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
He’ll let me go? The thought of freedom, of being away from him, only made that knot in Stormy’s chest twist tighter. Even if he does, will I ever be able to let him go? Closing her eyes, she sighed in resignation. “What do I do?”
Fury took her hands in his. “Envision yourself leaving your body. You’re as light as air, my love, and as small as a molecule of water. Walls no longer exist. They’re but bumps—easily overrun. Nothing will stand in your way. There is nothing created by man or god that can stop you from your goal. My mind, it is the sky, my thoughts the clouds; reach for them.”
She listened in earnest to his smooth baritone voice, and before long she felt as if she were truly as small as a gnat’s babe, and as fast as a humming bee, zipping toward the blue indigo skies overhead. There was nothing she couldn’t do in this moment. Strength was her best friend, power was her father, and stamina her mother. “Is
this how you feel all the time?”
“To an extent.” Fury chuckled and warned as his physical hold tightened on her, “Hold on to me, I don’t want you flying away.”
“How is this possible?” She felt so light. It was as if gravity didn’t exist for her.
He spoke via their linked minds. It’s because you are of Anubis, Ambrosia. It’s also the reason—I suspect—you can block your mind from me at will, which is something only Anubi can do. Since we can all read minds, it’s sort of a privacy screen. He brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek. You are my chosen, my life, my heart, and my soul. Without you I am nothing.
Fury, don’t do this, she pleaded.
His response was a gentle kiss to the left corner of her mouth just before a clip of one of his memories—she knew what it was without having to be told—played in her mind…
The sun’s rays felt like hot knives as a boy about fifteen or sixteen sat high at the apex of a behemoth pyramid. He didn’t seem frightened or unsteady about his location, he just was. His gray eyes were flat and uninterested as he watched the people far below drag massive stone blocks through miles and miles of blistering sand. A man in gladiator-type armor stood nearby, shouting orders in a language Stormy was unfamiliar with, while using his whip on the people who lagged behind.
One of the men pulling a block stumbled and fell. His head crashed against the block in front of him and blood splattered like rain drops, turning the powder-white sand pink instantly.
The boy stood, balanced on his tiptoes on the apex. He jumped, leaping high into the air, blocking out the luminous sun momentarily, and then landed at the base. But in his place was a smaller form of the animal she’d seen Fury transform into.
The jackal, she mused.
It raced at the crowd of people gathering around the man’s fallen body, leapt over their heads, its mouth opening as if to snatch something invisible from the air, landed, and then continued on its track through the sand and into the far distance.