by Rosalie Redd
She stilled as he approached. Without thought, she squeezed the wet rag in her hand. Water dripped onto the exam table. The stone was slightly concave, and the moisture ran into a small groove down the center.
He placed his palms on the surface of the table and leaned in. Up close and personal, he invaded her space as if he had every right.
“I don’t usually have trouble with disobedience, but you…” His eyes glowed, gold flecks mixing with the blue.
She met his glance and didn’t flinch. “I think you like the challenge.”
The skin around his eyes creased as a smile broke across his face. “You might be right about that.”
His actions were contradictory to who he was. As king, he needed to find himself a queen, a Stiyaha queen. Yet, here he was, alone with her.
He walked around the exam table and approached her from behind, closing the distance between them. “Nice, very nice.”
As she continued to scrub the table, his warm breath tickled her nape, sending shivers of desire down her spine. He placed his palm over the back of her hand. His large hand dwarfed hers, but his touch was gentle. Her skin lit up at the contact, and she gasped.
He chuckled. The sound reverberated through his chest and flowed deep into her heart. He moved their hands together over the surface of the wood, and they polished the table together.
“Like this?” he asked as he leaned over her back. The brush of their bodies burned like fire.
“Yes,” she whispered.
As he wrapped his other arm around her waist, his skin brushed against the material of her dress, grazing her nipples. The sensitive buds peaked as he pulled her close. She moaned and leaned into him. His hard-on pressed against her lower back.
“Do you know what you do to me, little kitten?”
He flipped her around to face him, the strong, quick movement sending a thrill of excitement to her core. Breathing hard, he traced her back with his hands, down over the curve of her hips, and grabbed her bottom, giving her soft flesh a quick squeeze.
A rush of delight ran through her, and the warm spot between her legs moistened. Her fangs elongated, and she opened her mouth. A soft breath escaped her lips. He placed her hands on his massive biceps, and she traced her fingers over his shoulders. She massaged his muscles in the very place she’d bitten him before.
“Feed from me,” he said, his voice low and quiet.
He held her tight, and his erection pulsed through the fabric of his black pants and against her belly. Overwhelmed with desire, she couldn’t begin to deny his request. He picked her up so she could reach him easily, her bottom resting against his forearm.
She grabbed his shirt collar and ripped the material down to the shoulder seam. The sound of the tearing fabric fueled her desire. She traced his skin with her fingers until she found the perfect spot, the one at the juncture between his neck and shoulder blade. His amber eyes glimmered with desire. He seemed to want this as much as she did.
Bending her head to his shoulder, she breathed his unique scent deep into her lungs. She licked his skin, preparing the delicate tissue for her bite, numbing the spot with her saliva. While one hand continued to cradle her derriere, he placed his other hand behind her head. He rubbed the base of her scalp with strong fingers.
She relaxed at his touch, and fully extending her fangs, bit him. The essence of pine and sage rolled across her tongue and down her throat as his blood coursed through her body. She swayed, and a sense of giddiness and peace enveloped her. He shook as he held her to him, his massive body quaking under her assault. She continued to pull his blood into her mouth, drinking him in, savoring the rush as it overpowered all her senses.
Not wanting this to end, but knowing she’d had enough, she pulled out her fangs. Her swollen, sensitive lips pulsed as she licked his skin to seal the wound. His eyes darkened, and he stared at her mouth. She closed her eyes, knowing what was coming, unwilling to stop him.
*****
Noeh held Melissa close. Their labored breaths echoed off the infirmary’s stone walls. He fixated on her mouthwatering lips. Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t stop himself. As his mouth locked onto hers, he savored those warm, inviting lips. They were as soft and sensuous as he’d imagined, even more so. He licked her mouth, and she gasped in surprise. He took advantage as she opened up to him. The roughness of his tongue caressed hers, the sensation sending lightning bolts of desire straight to his shaft. He pulled her closer to him, wanting to take her, right here, right now.
He wrapped his hand in her long hair, the possessive gesture making his inner beast growl in agreement. His animal half was more in control than he cared to admit, but that didn’t stop him. Instead, he let the beast rule. A part of him knew that was wrong. The other part didn’t give a damn. As long as he didn’t change, he would be all right.
He pulled away to look into her eyes. Her dilated pupils were evidence of her desire. His beast hollered with delight.
Drawing her to him again, he gave her a powerful kiss, surprised by how she gave it right back. Their tongues danced, and his need for her grew. He deepened the kiss. She relaxed under his assault, surrendering to him. A triumphant roar rumbled deep in his throat. The vibration caused a fine sheen of sweat to break out on his skin.
At least, that’s what he thought it was, at first. The hair on his arm started to grow and curl. Something was wrong, very wrong indeed.
His rational mind made its way through the beast’s aroused brain, catching up with his actions. He saw just how far out of line he’d gone. At first, he couldn’t let her go. He enjoyed the sensation of her soft, willing body pressed against him. The reality of the situation caught up with him, though. He pulled away from her and set her feet on the ground, as much as that pained him. His inner beast screamed in rage for breaking their contact.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
Her breath came out in hard pants, the soft sound juicing up his desire once again. She placed her shaking fingers to her lips and stared at him. “What? Are you sorry for kissing me? You seemed to enjoy it.”
“That I did, and therein lies the problem. Forgive me.”
He walked away, regret hanging over his head. As he opened the door, he turned back to look at her. She stared at him, pain, anguish, and anger all rolled up in her attitude. Her arms were at her sides, her hands balled into fists. He walked through the doorway and the door clicked softly behind him.
He ran his hands through his hair. What had happened in there couldn’t happen again. He’d almost lost control. His emotions roiled within him, even as he tried to listen to logic. He shouldn’t desire her, but he did.
She needed to go back to her room where he’d have Jax install a better lock on her door. Escape artist that she was, she wouldn’t get out again. As he reached for the doorknob, her quiet sobs seeped into his ears.
A need to comfort her overwhelmed him. He placed his fingers against the wood. I caused this. I would take it all back if I could. As he caught himself in his own deceit, his marking for truth pulsed painfully over his eye. He couldn’t trust himself to walk back through that door. Although he was responsible for her protection, right now, he needed to protect her from himself. Inhaling one long breath, he headed down the hall, as far away from her as he could get. He wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing or just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After a restless sleep, Noeh came to the Hall of Warriors to start the preparations for the death ceremony. Seated on the rough stone, he leaned over and picked up the cleaning cloth, feeling the softness of the fabric in his calloused hand. He adjusted his knee, and the heavy weight of the sword pressed against his leg. Dipping the cloth into the sacred water, he rubbed the sharp blade. Jade’s weapon mewled softly, the sound sending welcome spikes of pain to his ears.
The Hall of Warriors was one of the oldest chambers in the Keep, and the most revered. Swords of past warr
iors lined the room. Jade and Caleb’s would be placed here tomorrow, but until then, he’d prepare what remained of his honorable soldiers. The relationship between a warrior and a sword was special, one not taken lightly. A warrior didn’t select his sword. The weapon selected the warrior.
Noeh’s marking pulsed under his eye. Both his symbol for compassion and faith had faded a bit more. He didn’t bemoan the loss. Jade and Caleb were his warriors, his responsibility, and he should have saved them during the battle with the Gossum. He accepted the fading mark as his due, his punishment for his failure.
“They were good warriors.” Gaetan’s words brought Noeh out of his musing. He stood in the doorway, his furrowed brow mirroring Noeh’s own emotions.
“Yes, they were.” Noeh’s voice rasped, his breath visible in the cold chamber.
“You summoned me?”
Not wanting to be distracted from his job, Noeh continued to polish Jade’s sword. “What is your assessment of Demir?”
“What, specifically, are you asking about?”
Instead of answering right away, Noeh continued to polish the sword’s hilt with its unique intricate scrollwork. His gut tightened, and bile threatened to rise in his throat.
“Do you trust him?” He pulled his attention away from the weapon and focused on his best friend.
Gaetan breathed a heavy sigh and shook his head. “I’m not sure. He’s cunning and rude, but there’s been no outward display of dishonesty.”
“I don’t trust him. He’s self-centered and unpredictable. I think he’d like to see my head on a platter.” Noeh twirled his sunstone ring, but the usual comfort he received from the routine didn’t happen. He ground his teeth instead. “The question is what do we do about it?”
Gaetan shrugged. “Without proof, we wait and watch.”
Noeh nodded and returned to cleaning the sword. Somewhere in his gut, he knew the cat had an agenda, one that wouldn’t be good for him or anyone else in the Keep.
*****
Ram paced around the lone table and chair, avoiding the boxes of vodka strewn across the cabin floor. He upended the shot glass over his open mouth, sending the cool liquid fire down his throat. Someone had made a half-assed attempt at fixing the broken windowpane by placing a board over the worst part, but the rain and wind still managed to get in. Goosebumps formed on his arms.
He poured himself another shot and downed the drink with a satisfied smile. The taste of Noeh’s blood in his mouth would be better than the best vodka. With Noeh out of the way, the Gossum could overrun this portion of the country and gain a firm advantage in the war. They would be well on their way to turning Earth into a slave world.
Jakar entered the room, his feet shuffling over the brittle, unwashed linoleum. He clasped his hands together and walked with an air of supreme confidence.
“Please tell me you have something for me,” Ram said.
“I do. You will be pleased. I did a little research in some old books Ashton left behind. I found out what we need.” His smile widened, the cleft in his chin almost disappearing as his skin stretched flat.
“Well, don’t make me wait. What is it?”
“Ice, melted from the Hoh glacier in the Olympic Peninsula. It’s said to have magical properties that will kill a Stiyaha.”
“No problem, we’ll go right out and get some.” Ram crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me you know an easy way to obtain this special ice.”
Jakar shuffled his feet and crossed his hands behind his back. “I haven’t quite gotten that far yet.”
“Yet, being the appropriate word, I take it?”
Out of the corner of his eye, a movement caught his attention. A thin blue mist rolled in through the boards covering the window, its tendrils snaking up and around the back of the chair. Jakar bumped into the wall then fell flat on his ass. Ram moved back, his body tense.
In the center of the room, the mist coalesced into the form of a man. Zedron. He was impeccably dressed in a gray suit and a pair of laced shoes. He smiled, his perfect white teeth gleaming in the glow from the bare bulb.
“You have good taste in clothing, My Lord Zedron.” Ram bowed before his god. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit?”
Zedron peered around the room, wrinkled his nose and frowned. “Why you picked such a place to live is beyond me.” He steered his glare between Ram and Jakar.
Ram understood what it was like to be a bug under a microscope.
“Why isn’t the Stiyaha king dead yet?”
“W-we are making progress, my lord. I acquired one of their powers, a shield power, and almost took him out. I just need to procure one last item. I will succeed, I swear.” If Ram survived this meeting, he would. A lump formed in his throat.
“Is this what you are looking for?” Zedron held up a small bottle filled with liquid.
The glint in his eyes caused a jolt of excitement to run down Ram’s back.
“Is that melted glacier ice?” Jakar rose from the floor and approached Zedron. Focused on the vial, he didn’t realize his mistake until it was too late. A gust of wind knocked him back several feet. He collided with a stack of vodka boxes. Glass shattered.
Ram flinched.
Zedron’s arms flexed as he gripped the bottle in his fist. “This is water from the Hoh glacier. Tell no one I gave this to you.” His menacing eyes pierced through what was left of Ram’s spirit.
With shaking fingers, Ram took the precious gift from Zedron. “Thank you, my lord. Noeh is as good as dead already.”
“Kill the king, bring down the Stiyaha. Much rides on this, minion. Make sure you don’t fail.” As quick as he arrived, Zedron vaporized. A trail of blue mist seeped out the window into the night beyond.
A sense of euphoria filled Ram’s chest. He peered into the flask of clear, priceless liquid. The bare bulb in the middle of the room caused the water to sparkle and create a vibrant rainbow against the cheap wallpaper. A chuckle escaped him. He had everything he needed to defeat his enemy. Everything except an opportunity, and that would come in time.
He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and flipped to a familiar photo. His ex-wife’s flirtatious smile and vivid eyes reminded him of his endgame. You’ll be proud of me, Sheri. You’ll see.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Melissa’s determined footfalls echoed off the corridor walls, a grim reminder of her frustration. She wanted to get as far away from the infirmary as possible to forget about Noeh and his passionate kiss. Her thoughts jumped from one extreme to another: his mouth devouring hers, making her tremble and weak with want, only to be shattered again from his quick release and burning desire to get away from her. She wiped away the remnants of her tears. If she kept going, maybe she’d find a way out of this place.
Coolness oozed from the rough stone walls. She rubbed her arms in an attempt to stay warm. The corridors all seemed the same. The pattern of the sunstones along the surface meant nothing to her. She rounded a bend and came to an abrupt stop. Voices, soft and unintelligible, whispered through the corridor. Recognition flashed across her mind. The gardens. Encouraged, she ran.
She neared a giant doorway, one wider than any she’d encountered at the Keep. Numerous conversations floated into the hallway, mixing into a cacophony of voices. A strong aroma of soap and flowers wafted on the cool breeze. She approached the room, a bit tentative, and looked through the stone arch.
A large cave filled her vision. Vendors with carts sold their wares in row after row.
A Stiyaha male behind a nearby cart held up a pale yellow shirt with wooden buttons down the front. He glanced at Melissa and offered her the garment. “Would you like a new shirt?”
She shook her head and moved further into the room. Mesmerized by the merchants and their goods, a smile tugged at her lips, and she gave in to it.
“Come here, young lady, come here.” A female Jixie pulled on Melissa’s arm. She wore a brown dress with multiple pockets and took a small round object out of a
fold in the front.
“Take this. Smell.” The Jixie placed a ball of soap in Melissa’s palm.
The smooth texture on her sensitive skin was like a balm to her battered ego. She raised the delicate sphere to her nose and breathed deeply. The scent of lavender filled her senses. She wanted to weep. “It’s lovely, but no thank you.” Melissa handed the sweet cleanser back to the Jixie.
“That’s all right, young lady, maybe next time.” The small female waved her away and concentrated on an older Stiyaha female who approached the cart.
The female brought out several gems. They appeared similar to the sunstones lining the Keep’s walls, but were rough, unpolished, as if recently mined. The vendor and customer exchanged two soaps for three stones. The transaction completed, the older female took her small bag and headed down the aisle.
A wagon filled with flowers caught Melissa’s attention. The strong perfume of roses brought memories of her mother’s garden when Melissa was a child. She touched the petals of a red bud, the softness soothing between her fingers.
“You may have the rose, if you’d like.” The deep rumble of a male’s voice made her jump.
Melissa stared at the cart owner. Like all Stiyaha males, he was tall at over six and a half feet. He had short brown hair and penetrating green eyes.
He held out his hand to her, palm up in greeting. “My name is Torbin.”
Melissa raised her own hand in response. “Hello, Torbin, my name is Melissa.”
As he smiled at her, the warmth in his eyes became more needy, more purposeful. “Melissa, yes, it is good to meet you.”
The tone of his voice set off warning bells in her mind. She took a step back. A pair of strong hands wrapped around her arms. Her legs and knees gave way. She buckled to the floor, but the male holding her wouldn’t let her fall.
“Who do we have here?” A low rumble emanated from his body. “You smell like carnations.”