The Darkest Surrender (Hqn)

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The Darkest Surrender (Hqn) Page 32

by Gena Showalter


  “Take us to our tent,” he croaked. He couldn’t lose this woman.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “COME ON, BABY DOLL. I’ve let you sleep long enough. Now you’re just being lazy.”

  Strider, Kaia thought dazedly, her entire body sparking to life. He was here, next to her. He had to be. His voice, so close, so sweet. Soft fingertips smoothed the hair from her brow. She knew that touch. Loved that touch and she leaned into it.

  “Come on. That’s the way.”

  His husky baritone proved to be a lifeline and she clung desperately. Inch by inch, she pulled herself from the thick, cloying darkness surrounding her. Even though every movement hurt. Strider, she had to reach Strider. That had been her last thought, she recalled. Her last thought before—

  She’d heard so many screams. Of terror, of pain. Hers, so many others. The scent of melting skin had hit her nose and she’d gagged. Gagged now, remembering. Released the lifeline. Down, down she fell, back into the darkness.

  “Kaia! I’m not going to tell you again. Wake the hell up. Now!”

  Strider. She grabbed the lifeline once again. Again she tugged her way up…up… A bright light waited at the surface. She had only to reach out…grab it…almost there…another tug…

  Her eyelids popped open as a gasp of shock and lingering outrage lodged in her throat. She was panting and sweating, muscles locked onto bone. She tried to sit up, but hard hands held her down.

  “No. You’re still healing, so I don’t want you moving.”

  Suddenly Strider’s beautiful face loomed over her. His deep blue eyes were glassy, feverish. Concern etched deep lines around his mouth and his normally tanned skin was nearly as colorless as his hair. No, not true. There were spots of color, but they were bright red welts and blisters.

  He was naked. Seeing him, something sizzled inside her. Knowledge, power, connection. Yes, a connection more prevailing even than what she felt with Bianka. More than binding them, that connection wove them together, until she couldn’t tell who was who. They were simply one.

  “Are you all right?” Gods, even speaking hurt. Her throat was raw, agonized, as if someone had scraped the insides with jagged glass and then, just for funsies, painted the bleeding flesh with acid.

  “I’m fine, so don’t worry about me. Worry about you. You’ve been out for three days.”

  Three days? Her eyes widened. “The third game—”

  “Starts two days from now. Bianka has kept me informed.”

  Thank the gods. Still. Three days. “I must look terrible,” she muttered. She would have finger-combed her hair, but decided lifting her arm would require too much effort.

  “You look alive, and that’s goddamn beautiful to me.”

  Darling man. Her heart skipped a beat as she soaked up his praise.

  “Besides,” he said, “we’re both clean. Lysander gave me robes. Angel robes. A stack of them. Every time I put a new one on, it was like taking a bath. You, too. Everything from your hair to the bottom of your feet was—is—washed. And let me tell you, that was weird.”

  Why tell her that? Unless…oh. Oh. He wanted her. Okay, she would put the effort into that. Arousal warmed her up and her nipples tightened.

  Her gaze swept over her body to catalog the damage she’d have to work around.

  She was naked, her shoulders discolored and scabbed. Stomach, fine. Legs, fine. Ankles, bruised. Not bad.

  She was lying on a faux fur rug her twin must have delivered, inside a nearly barren white tent, the air around her heated even though the air by the flapping entrance was almost crystallized from cold.

  Leaning his weight into one arm, Strider was careful not to brush the long, thick length of his erection—and oh, yes, he had one—against her. Warm heat instantly pooled between her legs. She craved his touch, his mouth. Wanted to explore this new, deeper connection thing. She licked her lips.

  “You move fast,” she said with a grin.

  “Damn it, Kaia. Get your mind out of the gutter and talk to me. I’ve been waiting patiently for days.”

  His pet name for her brought her gaze back to his face. The concern was back full force and she recalled why she was here, in the condition she was in—and the danger she had become to this man. She didn’t have to push her sexual need aside. It vanished on its own.

  “Okay. Yes. What do you want me to talk about?”

  His eyes glinted down at her. “First, if you ever had any doubts that I’m your consort, you can put them to rest. You slept next to me.”

  Not the terrible topic she’d expected and she relaxed against the fur. “Sorry, darling, but that’s not how the consort sleeping thing works.”

  He gave her a fierce frown. “How does it work, then?”

  “Naps don’t count if the Harpy falls asleep while injured. I have to sleep next to you when I’m healed and that hasn’t happened yet.”

  “It will.” Determination radiated from him and she knew he saw this as a challenge. A challenge he clearly accepted.

  She didn’t let it bother her, though. She wanted to sleep next to him, cuddled into his side, something she’d never done with another man. How or why that occurred didn’t matter.

  “Now tell me what the hell happened,” he continued, each word gruffer than the last. “Did those men…are you…?” Okay. Blisters weren’t the only thing coloring his face now. Fury did. So much fury.

  Fury over her mistreatment? “Did they what? Pin me to the wall? Yes. Did they catch fire and burn to death? Yep, that, too.” Once more the screams and the flames flashed through her mind. Rather than torment her as they had in the dark, dark void, she experienced a surge of satisfaction.

  Victory belonged to her.

  “No, baby doll.” His expression softened, became tender and seeking. He traced a gentle fingertip along the slope of her nose. “Did they…rape you?”

  “No.” She shivered from the succulent contact. “I would have killed them deader if they had.”

  Relief joined the fury and the tenderness. “I won’t piss on their charred remains, then. So how’d you kill them? I mean, I know they burned to death, like you said, but how did you manage that? You had to have done it after you were pinned. Otherwise you would have been sliced like a Christmas ham.”

  Smart man. “I…” As those memories surfaced, she frowned, looked away from him. “I don’t want to tell you,” she whispered. While she was satisfied with the end results, getting those results had opened a veritable Pandora’s box of complications—and she didn’t think Strider would appreciate the irony.

  Dark lashes fused together. “Do it anyway. Now. And start from the beginning. I want to hear everything.”

  So commanding, her warrior. So sexy. She hadn’t wanted to tell him, but she would. Had planned to even while uttering the refusal. She would do anything, even this, to keep him from experiencing a moment of pain. “I climbed the ledge and the Hunters were waiting for me. They rushed me and we fought. I would have won, too, but they knew to go for my wings.” Probably courtesy of Juliette, even though discussing such a weakness with anyone was forbidden and punishable by death. “Once those were broken, pinning me with the swords was easy.”

  Every word had him tensing. “I didn’t hear you scream.”

  She knew that; she’d made sure he hadn’t, holding her cries inside. She hadn’t wanted to distract him from his fight with Lazarus. Which he must have won, since he was here and evidently pain-free.

  Had she called him sexy? She meant irresistibly ravishing. But why hadn’t he heard the Hunters’ screams? she wondered. Interesting. Had someone somehow kept the noise inside the cave?

  “The rest,” he urged on a croak.

  Do it. “I was so mad, so…desperate, the heat inside me just kind of spilled out.”

  “I know that heat,” he said huskily.

  Her brows knit together in confusion. “You do?”

  “Yeah. When we made love, you burned me pretty badly.”

&n
bsp; “What!” She must not have been paying attention to his body, only her own. Selfish much? “Gods, Strider. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not.” His lips twitched in his first true display of humor since she’d woken up. “I liked it.”

  That didn’t calm her. She could have killed him. Rather than considering that, however, and perhaps bursting into tears, she hurried on with her story. “I caught fire, but it didn’t hurt me. I didn’t understand what was happening, just watched as the men around me caught fire, too. And when the others tried to run out of the cavern, I looked at them and the next thing I knew, they were writhing as they burned. My Harpy laughed.” To be honest, so had she. “Then I just kind of blacked out.”

  “I don’t understand. How could you catch fire and be okay minutes later?”

  The answer was the very reason she hadn’t wanted to discuss this. “I should have put the pieces together before this, but I discarded them as silly. Maybe because I was too distracted with the courting of my consort.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Discarded what as silly? And you’re saying you courted me? Baby doll, if the past few weeks are your idea of courting, we seriously need to work on your dating skills.”

  “Shut up. I nabbed you, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah,” he said tenderly, huskily. “You nabbed me.”

  That mollified (and melted) her. “As I was saying, my father is a Phoenix shape-shifter. I must have inherited a few of his abilities.” And she didn’t like that she had! Of course she valued her newfound ability to fry her enemies to a smoldering crisp, but the Phoenix were an exclusive, unwelcoming race and anyone who displayed the tiniest bit of pyrokinesis was captured and kept—forcibly—within their territory.

  Honestly. She had no idea how her mom and dad had ever hooked up in the first place.

  O-kay. Gross. She shied away from that thought. Anyway. That’s why her dad had kidnapped her and Bianka all those centuries ago, to ensure they did not exhibit an affinity for fire. They hadn’t and so they’d been set free. Not just set free, but told never to come back.

  She should not be exhibiting such an affinity now. Phoenix could withstand intense heat and control fire from birth. Until now, she’d never been able to. So how had this happened? Why now? Latent ability, perhaps? But then, shouldn’t it have hit with puberty? Only other thing she could think of was the one thing that had changed in her life. Her need, her burning desire, for Strider.

  When—if—her dad found out, would he come for her? Demand she live with his people? No need to consider it. Yeah. He would. And she would refuse. Would she be forced to war with him and all his brethren, just to live her life as she wished? Would he make a gamble for Strider in an attempt to force her hand?

  “I’m glad you inherited your father’s abilities. You’re alive and nothing is more important than that,” Strider said. “You did a great job.”

  “Really?” She would never tire of his praise.

  “If your goal was to worry me to death, then yes.” He was glowering now, his affection morphing into anger. She figured the what-ifs were driving him crazy. “You are never going off on your own again. You will chain yourself to my side and like it. Understand?”

  She would not deign to respond to such a ludicrous statement. “Just so you know, you did a good job, too.” Maybe if she applauded him, he’d stop letting his concern speak for him and remember she’d won.

  “Well, you didn’t do a great job, and that’s the gods’ honest truth. You almost died! You didn’t scream and I know why. You didn’t want to distract me. But guess what? I’d rather you had distracted me! I could have raced to the rescue and helped you do that killing.”

  He also could have burned to death with the Hunters. “Well…well…you didn’t do a good job, either!”

  “Nope. You already said I did.”

  “And then I said you didn’t.”

  “Sorry, no take-backs. You sucked this up because you let yourself get pinned. Don’t do that again. Do you even realize what they could have done to you?”

  Yep. The what-ifs were definitely driving him. The indignation drained from her. How could she blame him? Had the situation been reversed, she would have done the same thing. “I won’t do it again.”

  Strider pushed out a labored breath, visibly relaxing more with each molecule of air that escaped him. “So why didn’t you want to tell me about the Hunters?”

  Well, maybe she still possessed a little indignation. Quite primly, she said, “Because telling you about my newfound firepower meant I’d have to tell you something even worse—we can’t have sex anymore.” And she meant it. She might have forgotten her resolution upon first awakening, but she recalled it now.

  “Like hell!” he roared.

  “Strider, we can’t. I’ll burn you.” Badly. Perhaps even kill him.

  He softened his voice when he said, “You didn’t last time.” Then he finally, blessedly, turned into her, pressing his cock between her legs, hitting her right where she wanted him most.

  Her need exploded back to life and she had to clench her hands in the rug to keep from reaching for him. The heat…she could feel it building again, seething beneath her skin. “Liar. You said I blistered you.”

  “I also said I liked it.”

  Don’t you dare soften. “Doesn’t matter. Last time I’d never set anything on fire. Now that I have, the chances are greater that I will again. And when I’m with you, I apparently lose all hint of common sense. I won’t be able to control myself.”

  “If that’s the case, you won’t be able to fight in the other two games, either. Your anger most definitely will be ignited and you’ll erupt, killing everyone around you.”

  “Yeah, but I want to kill my opponents.” Not really, but she didn’t want to admit he had a point.

  “Which will endanger your family.”

  Damn him!

  “Just pucker up, buttercup, because this is happening. If you can take it,” he added thoughtfully. “Your injuries…”

  He’d just pricked the hell out of her pride and her chin lifted. “I can take anything.”

  “Good. I’ve worried about you for too damn long and I need you. More than that, I deserve a reward for taking care of you. Don’t I?”

  Concern for his safety persisted. He was the most important part of her life. “That’s your demon talking. I know it. If you would just think this through, you’d—”

  “Baby doll, I haven’t thought clearly since I met you. We’re having sex. You’re gonna like it, I’m gonna like it, and we’re gonna come out of this alive.” He paused, snickered. “Get it? Come out of this.”

  She rolled her eyes, but his complete disregard for her fears did much to help alleviate them.

  Strider wasn’t done, though. “My demon likes to dominate you, yes, and being with you sexually is far more satisfying than anything else because he’s also afraid of you, making your surrender all the sweeter. But he hasn’t accepted a challenge yet. This is just you and me. And need. Hard, raging need.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I don’t want Defeat to fear me. I want him to like me always.”

  A slow smile curled his lips. “Good. ’Cause the bastard just purred his approval.”

  “Really?” Finally she allowed her arms to wind around his neck. He pressed his shaft against her, rubbed back and forth and pulled a groan of pleasure from deep inside her. But the heat intensified, pulsing from her and he began to sweat. That scared her. “Strider.”

  “I’m your consort. You can’t hurt me.”

  Another good point. “But…that’s your arousal talking.”

  “No, that’s my trust in you and your strength talking.”

  “You said I did a piss-poor job.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did, too.”

  “Zip it, Kaia, and stop stalling. Look at it this way if you want. Your Harpy is one badass chick and she loves me. She’s not going to hurt me. Deal with it and let’s move
on.”

  “She tolerates you,” Kaia lied.

  “She obviously needs a vocabulary lesson. She loves me. And,” he went on before she could comment, “she’s stronger than your Phoenix side. She has to be.” As he spoke, he thrummed her nipples, giving her more of the sweet, sweet contact she’d craved so badly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have gone this long without setting people on fire. But. If it makes you feel any better…”

  He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the exit. She felt the drop in temperature the moment Strider stepped outside. Snow poured from the darkened sky, as determined as a rainstorm.

  “We’re alone out here,” he said. “Everyone else left yesterday and Lysander posted guards on the other side of the mountains. No one will be sneaking up on us.”

  Good to know. What was embarrassing was that she hadn’t given the possibility of a sneak attack a moment’s thought. Only this man. Only his touch.

  “You’re going to freeze to death,” she warned as he laid her down in the snow. Goose bumps formed over her skin as she cooled.

  “Make up your mind. Either I’ll burn to death or I’ll freeze to death. Which is it?” He spread her legs as far as they would go and crouched in front of her. “So pretty,” he said, running a finger through her moist slit.

  Her back arched in supplication. “So good.”

  “So mine.” He teased her clitoris, ramping up her desire—and touching everywhere but there. “Say it.”

  “I’m yours,” she breathed. Always.

  A kiss and a lick at the center of her need, making her moan, and then he was once again looming over her. The snow fell around him, hauntingly beautiful. He didn’t enter her, not yet, but started that slow, hard rub all over again, teasing, teasing. She gave another needy moan.

  “Strider. Please.”

  “Gods, you taste good. I need another.” Back down he went, licking and sucking.

  The pleasure slammed through her and her fingers tangled in his hair. The heat blossomed again, despite the chilly winds, spinning through her veins. Though pleasurable dizziness hazed her eyesight, she watched him, determined to stop him at the first sign of danger. Sweat beaded on his temples and dripped onto her thighs. Sweat, but no welts. Good, good, so good.

 

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