“An interesting way to make certain you never run out of the need to wash your dirty conscience. Then again, to each his own poison, is it not, brother?” Dacian’s forcedly-cheerful voice made him clench his teeth. He closed his eyes for a second and counted to ten. But when he opened them, everything remained the same.
Raven’s jaw grated—he refused to apologize for his feelings. For his past mistakes—yes—but not for this. “One more insult, even remotely regarding Amira, and I’m…”
“Let’s go,” she interrupted him, taking him by the hand.
“You better listen to her. Run,” Dacian laughed a mirthless laugh. “Or I might tell her the truth.”
Raven went, but he wasn’t running. If anyone was going to tell her the whole truth, it would be coming from his mouth. And then … only time could show.
He wanted to find some place quiet, but the moment they stepped over the threshold of his house, Martha ambushed him with questions in her eyes. The woman didn’t even have to voice it. He knew what she wanted to know. And with that knowledge, memories rose in his mind—tortured pleas, the smell of burning flesh.
“I was too late,” was all he said. By the time he’d ridden through the gates of Leonon, the fires were already blazing.
Martha covered a gasp with her palms, and every last question vanished from her face. Horror and sadness were all that remained in her eyes.
Amira waited it out until they were alone, letting him marshal his thoughts. She didn’t push. Nor did she press. She watched as he loosened the few buttons around his neck, rubbed at it and moved toward the window.
He turned from her, his palms landed on the windowsill, and for the longest, silence-filled moment, he simply observed the setting sun. The vista was almost serene, so unlike the tempest raging inside him…
“If you are willing the sun to stay in the sky, it’s futile.” As always, her voice permeated through his memories and senses, giving him a strength she alone could.
“No,” he shook his head, but didn’t turn yet. “I was just wondering why I keep torturing myself. I used to find such scenes whether I wanted to or not. It’s inevitable when going from town to town.”
“But now you don’t have to.”
“But now I realize I know no other way of living.”
“It’s an admirable trait—the desire to help others.”
“I don’t have the necessary resources, and I sure as hell wouldn’t mind living without memories of charred flesh peeling,” he whispered as Amira approached him. “One lone man is not a warrior to make a stand against an army.”
“You are not alone,” she assured him as her nails trailed up his back, all the way to his nape. They traveled even higher, until her fingers sank in his hair. Without even meaning to, he closed his eyes and the most wonderful thing happened—he saw no fires, heard no screams.
“I see you,” she said against his ear.
“Do you?” He turned and her palm landed on his chest, over his strongly-beating heart. Her own heart was lodged in her throat, and all Amira could do was nod.
“Did you know it was me who invited the evil into this home?” The words that left his mouth were emotionless. Dead. He looked at her, but Amira had a feeling Raven was seeing his past in front of his eyes.
“Is this about what Dacian hinted at?” she asked as she touched her hand fleetingly over his cheek.
“I think I should start from the beginning…” A part of her wanted to stop him and spare the wound from being opened again, but Amira knew better than anyone that in order to heal a festering wound, one needed to reopen and clean it.
“Fifteen years ago a witch knocked on our door. She seemed so scared, running from the Venlordians. Ethely …” Raven paused. Amira saw how his fists clenched, jaw tightened. “…she begged for help, for one night to hide. We let her in…” his voice almost fractured, “she repaid our kindness. In spades.”
Raven closed his eyes and opened them with a frown, as if he didn’t like what he saw lurking in the darkness. Considering the story he was telling her, Amira knew he hated the images playing on his mind.
“By the time we discovered what she was up to, it was too late. She placed some kind of spell which ensured that it was my mother whom the members of the Order mistook for a witch. My father died fighting—protecting us, and…” He swallowed hard, punched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. It was obvious he was miles away, even if they stood but a few inches apart.
For a young boy it must have been horrific to lose his family this way. Amira wanted to hug him. Better yet, to go back in time and change everything. If only she had the power. All she could really do was let him finish. Raven had to let out everything that had been lying in his heart for so long.
“I remember thinking I could lift the spell, so I snuck out and ran to the nearest forest. A complete idiot I was.” Raven sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “First, I should have ridden. And second, I shouldn’t have bothered at all. The witch who lived in the forest refused to help me no matter how much I begged. Do you know what she told me?”
His eyes finally focused on her, and her throat tightened in response to what she saw in his face.
“She told me my mother was not one of them. Not one of them!” His voice rose with fury, but he couldn’t hide the tremor in his hands. Not from her. It was an ugly truth, but witches rarely helped others—now she could see Raven’s confusion when she’d healed Nyssa in an entirely different light.
“When I finally got home, I found the front door smashed in and Martha unconscious,” he whispered absently. “Dacian was already gone. And my mother…” Raven’s voice trailed off and Amira thought he would remain silent, but his voice rose once again and the words began pouring out more rapidly as if every damning syllable was burning his tongue, and he couldn’t spit it out fast enough.
“I ran into the hallway only to see my mother being dragged down the stairs by her hair. Screaming and kicking. The bodies of our trusted servants were lying butchered all around. Evolyn was crying in her cradle. I snatched the dagger from the wall and tried to thrust it into someone’s chest, but barely managed to nick an arm.”
Suddenly Amira wanted him to stop. To desist. The nightmare he was drawing was gaining a hold on her, sucking her in deeper and deeper. For the first time in their lives he had let her in completely with no walls or boundaries to keep his inner feelings from her. She was caught breathless by the intensity of it.
She saw everything through his eyes. She experienced the pain of witnessing how everything he had held dear was being destroyed. It was something more than physical. And Amira realized that dying was easy, no matter the manner of it—losing the ones you loved had a tendency to stay with you forever.
“They tied my hands to the banister, ripped the clothes off, and made me pay…” His voice was laced with so much anger, she almost missed the agony underneath it. “Maybe they would have killed me, maybe they should have … but my mother had pleaded with them to spare me…” Now his voice did fracture.
Amira wrapped her arms around him and felt him shaking. Again, she wanted to beg him to cease, but all she did was embrace him tighter. Raven responded to her—he buried his face in her hair and whispered, his voice barely audible, “she told me to close my eyes and I did … like a coward I did as she begged me to … but I knew what was going on … I knew … no matter how hard she tried to protect me…” His throat locked and he raised his head. Dark, glassy eyes bored into her, and Amira felt her nails cutting into her palms. It tore her apart to see his anguish.
“How old were you?” She cupped his face in her palms, refusing to let this preposterous self-beating continue any longer.
“Almost fifteen”
Almost fifteen! “You were fourteen years old and you think yourself a coward?”
“I think myself worse.”
“Why?” she wanted to know.
Instead of answering outright, he continued with th
e story, never once trying to shake off her hold. “Do you know how it feels to see your mother being burned alive? To hear her scream as you never before knew any human could?” His breaths came out ragged, his fingers laced with hers, and Amira was afraid she would crumble.
Seeing his hollow eyes made hers fill with tears.
“You would probably not believe it, but Dacian and I, we were inseparable once. Wherever there was one, there was the other—drove our parents crazy. I think it was one of the reasons my mother was so happy when after more than ten years she had another baby. A girl.” The memory was like a small island of tranquility in the ocean of pain, but all too soon the earth disappeared, and Raven’s memories took an ugly turn. “They killed little Evie. Laughed as I desperately tried to free myself, though I could barely hold my head. And Dacian… We found him wandering in the woods. Six years later. Six years… Sick and wild like a rabid animal.”
Finally Raven took a deep, shuddering breath in. He didn’t know if he’d breathed throughout the entire story. He didn’t remember. But now came the last part—the one he dreaded telling her all along.
“You asked me why I consider myself worse than a coward, and the answer is—because I not only invited evil into our home; I armed it against my own family.” The words were like stones in his heart.
Amira’s eyes blinked in confusion, and it caused a tear to fall down her cheek. A tear for him. Raven felt undeserving. But as long as she held him, he almost felt whole.
“I realize that you might have opened the door, or convinced your parents,” she said. “You have a heart of gold—but armed her…?”
He snorted at the ridiculous notion she had in her head. “I always thought you were smart, but this perception of yours…”
“You didn’t send Brea away when you could have. And she is a witch,” she stated, her face serious with determination. “So don’t you dare tell me what I should or shouldn’t think of you!” Her passionately-uttered words were both a warning and a threat. And despite everything, it made him smile.
“I love you.” It just came out, and time itself seemed to stop. She froze. Her eyes widened. And Raven had one of those “Oh shit, what have I done?” moments. It ended in about a tenth of a second, when she kissed his lips.
When they were together the past didn’t matter. When she was caressing him he didn’t feel the pain. He had no idea what demon possessed him, but Raven broke the kiss. “You need to know the rest.”
Amira simply nodded.
“I tend to remember her as a monster, but the truth is, she was very beautiful. And I was too young and too stupid to understand the real reason why she came into my room that night.”
If it was possible, Amira’s eyes widened even more. “Oh!” Her lips locked in that precise form. It was all she said.
“Dacian saw her leaving and he knows that she would never have succeeded if not for me.”
“Dacian knows many things. Half of them lies.” She didn’t release him. If anything, she embraced him even tighter. “Your brother’s mind is poisoned. Give him time.”
“Did you not hear what I said?” he asked in frustration. He had finally admitted to what had always been like a black hole in his soul, eating him alive—and she simply chased it away with reassurances.
“Oh, I heard you, alright,” she laughed, and it floored him. He was so not used to that sound. “You were telling me how you lost your virginity. Just what every woman wants to hear after a love declaration, I’m sure!”
All Raven could do was gape at her.
“I swear, sometimes I don’t understand you,” he admitted. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy about it right now.
“No one is stopping you from amending the situation.” Amira knew he wouldn’t appreciate the truth. Raven had lived with this betrayal, as he viewed it, for so long, he was blind to reality. So she kept it light. Though deep inside, she was livid.
He’d been used from the start—Amira had not a shadow of a doubt. But instead of seeing himself as another victim, he grew up thinking himself the culprit. She just wondered how much of it was due to his personality. Some people knew how to be victims just too well, while others … rejected outright even the slightest possibility.
“Something is always stopping, if you haven’t noticed.”
She had, but… “I’ve never pegged you for a quitter.”
“Now that’s a loaded challenge if I ever heard one.” Raven smiled, gazing at a pure wickedness in her eyes. And there was only one thing he could do—he took her lips with his.
Chapter 29
“So, I’m to understand you are willing to give this another try?” Amira uttered, then they finally closed the door of the bedroom with the weight of their bodies. The loud bang didn’t even register in her senses. She was too preoccupied to notice anything but him.
Raven brought his face to hers and nibbled at her lower lip. “Am I supposed to answer that?” He braced his hands on the surface behind her, on either side of her shoulders, caging her in.
“You are supposed to take this off,” she kissed him back as her hands went to the buttons of his shirt, working their way through the obstacles. When she was finished, he simply shrugged it off without ever releasing her mouth.
He kissed her deep and long—the way it made desire build up in the pit of her stomach. Made her toes curl. She trailed her nails down his torso, loving the feel of hard muscles underneath her fingers—and moved to work on his pants.
With fingers not too steady, Amira unbuckled his belt and felt his hands come to her aid. Breathing heavily, he broke apart from her to kick out of his boots and pants. The sight of his raw masculinity got her licking her lips. She saw his cock twitch under her scrutiny and her nipples puckered, begging for attention. Her thighs pressed together.
The look of a predator gleamed in his eyes—a predator who had just found the prey he craved to devour. He moved so quickly, it caught her off guard, even though she’d expected to end up in his arms again. His mouth took her prisoner.
Her hands wrapped around his body, caressing every inch she could reach, and his kiss increased in intensity and passion. He rubbed himself on her, and she moaned as she felt the erotic sensation of his erection pressed against her. She found it with her hand, touching it lightly at first, but when his shaft throbbed against her palm in response, she stroked it.
“You’ll push me over the edge too soon.” His words came out in a grunt against her lips and she shuddered. She was so hungry for him—not ready for the kiss to end, but he refused to relent. “Turn around.”
“So bossy,” Amira smiled, but turned without protest. She trusted him.
He brushed her hair to the side and traced the line from her collarbone to her jaw with the tip of his tongue. She moaned and threw her head back, giving him an easier access.
“Admit it, you like me bossy,” Raven kissed her hot skin as his hands searched for the tiniest clasps holding her dress up.
“The only thing I’m going to admit…” she panted as he slowly peeled her out of her strapless gown, “…is that turnabout is going to be…” he cupped her breasts, squeezed them gently and she whimpered. The thread of her thoughts melted away.
Amira leaned back against Raven, but when she tried to use her hands on him, he grabbed her wrists in a tight hold.
“Hands here.” His tone was uncompromising. He placed her palms on the wood and Amira found out that she did like him bossy. On some occasions.
“Am I not to touch you?”
“Not unless you want this to end before it got started,” he warned as his hands traced the line of her arms, down her front, all the way to her tiny waist. He pulled her gown over her hips, letting it fall around her feet. Her panties followed shortly, and she could do nothing but close her eyes at the onslaught of sensations.
She was finally naked—his erection pressed against her buttocks, his hands went to her aching breasts and her blood turned into a flowing
lava. He cupped them, fondled, his fingers played with her nipples until the buds went taut with need. The tension in the apex of her thighs coiled tight, and she couldn’t help but rub herself against him.
Raven groaned when their bodies created friction. His lips landed on her neck, tasting the raging pulse beneath. One of his hands travelled lower down her taut, flat belly and she thought she would fall apart into thousands of tiny pieces without him even reaching her wet, swollen flesh.
His hand moved lower so slowly, she wanted to beg for his touch. She was afraid she would explode before him even reaching her inner thighs. The pressure was maddening. And when his fingers did slip into the wet crease, she shuddered and made a mewling sound she was not aware she was capable of making.
“Raven!” she swallowed, arching her body. “I’m … I’m going to come…”
“That’s the plan,” he whispered against her ear as his fingers continued circling around her sensitive bud. “For you to come.” With those words he pinched at her clit and pure ecstasy shot through her body. A scream left her throat and her legs bucked.
Raven held her against his body, savoring the hot intoxicating moans that tantalized his ears. Her breaths were coming in brief, shallow pants. His own breathing was just as ragged and he knew he should have carried her to the bed, but turning her around was the best he could manage in the heat of the moment.
Instantly, her hands wrapped around his neck, and the full skin-to-skin contact had him groaning. But when she lifted her huge eyes to him and uttered, “I need you,” it slew him.
Raven had her backed against the wall, with her thighs around his waist in two seconds. With one powerful thrust he filled her to the hilt and his whole body quaked with pleasure.
“I knew I would feel every inch of you,” she moaned as her head rolled back.
“You are too tight.” She felt like a glove around him and he stilled, trying to give her body time to get used to his size. Raven didn’t want to hurt her, but refusing this primal instinct cost him—his muscles shook from the strain of holding back.
Till Death And Beyond (Witch World) Page 26