Unspoken (Unborn Book 3)

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “I don’t want you to yield,” he replied, pulling my gaze away from his chest. “I want you to fight.” He shot up and wrapped his hand around the back of my head, pulling me down to him. His hold was painful and unbending as he captured my mouth in his, his tongue forcing its way in. The more I struggled to get out of his grasp, the more it appeared to arouse him. I could feel the length of him beneath me, throbbing against the leather of his pants, begging to be freed. I shifted my hips on top of him and felt the rumble of his moan travel through my body, awakening something dark and wanting within me. Something that would not be denied for much longer.

  “I will not fight fair,” I said, pulling my mouth away just long enough for the words to escape.

  Again, I felt a rumble course through me, his laughter shaking then caressing every inch of my body.

  “There is no other way to fight.”

  To meet the challenge in his words, my hand drifted behind my back to a dagger strapped to the waist of my pants and pulled it free. In a flash, it was pressed against his manhood. His body went still in response.

  “You have asked me before to trust you,” I said, pulling away to loom over his body. “I did that once, and you threw me off a roof. When I chose not to trust you the next time, you punched me in the face and knocked me out. So tell me something, Oz,” I said, digging the tip of the dagger into the leather of his pants. I could feel it giving way beneath the blade, but I held firm. “Do you trust me? Would you put your future in my hands?” His brown eyes went wide, then narrowed to slits. He practically hissed through a clenched jaw as I pressed the blade a little harder to his groin. “You take and take and take, Dark One. But do you give?”

  “Oh, I can give, new girl. Lie down and I’ll show you.”

  I returned his earlier laughter with a near cackle of my own. ”You will give me what I want,” I replied, expertly hooking the leather of his pants on the tip of my dagger before slashing through the waistband. Not a drop of blood was spilled in the process. His trust would not have been misplaced had he given it.

  I sliced down the length of both legs until he was fully free of the leather. Lying naked beneath me, Oz growled. Whether it was one of lust or warning, I cared not at all. I planned to win the battle at any cost.

  Once free of the blade, he shot up to grab me, but I put it to his throat just before his body reached mine. ”Lie. Down,” I said, pressing the edge of my dagger against his neck just enough to make it bleed a scant amount.

  “Unless you’re prepared to finish me off, I think I’ll stay where I am.” The defiance in his gaze was absolute, a challenge in the quirk of his brow. But the upturned corner of his mouth spoke to something else entirely—something dark and mischievous that delighted in my actions.

  While we stared one another down, his fingers slowly grazed along my thighs, making their way to the waist of my pants. They brushed my core as they slid up to the buttons that separated Oz from what he so clearly wanted. My traitorous breath caught in my throat as he unfastened the final one, then slid the leather lower on my hips.

  “Looks like you’ll have to move that blade if you want to get these things off,” he said, pleased with his perceived victory.

  “Perhaps,” I replied, reaching my left hand behind my back to free the other dagger from its sheath. Just as I’d done with his, I hooked the leather of my pants and slit the waist wide open. From there I carved my way down each leg until the destroyed leather fell away, leaving me bare. The blade at his throat never faltered. “Perhaps not.”

  I sat back down upon him, our naked bodies touching. Again, his eyes went wide. I cast the blade in my left hand aside, keeping the other pinned to his throat. Then I reached down between us and took him in my hand, squeezing tightly enough to draw another hiss from him. Positioning him perfectly, I drew him inside of me, slowly sliding down the length of him until our bodies touched again.

  The warmth that spread through me was undeniable. I had never felt anything like it before. Sex had been little more than a tool for me in the Underworld—another weapon. It was not something to be enjoyed. To desire.

  But now with Oz, desire it, I did.

  My hips moved with a rhythm all their own. There was no thought, no calculation, only instinct. With my dagger still pressed to Oz’s throat, I claimed him; and though things were far from on his terms, there was a hint of satisfaction in his stare not born of sexual satiation. Something about my actions on the rooftop that day pleased him in a way I did not understand.

  His hands snaked around my waist, drifting lower. He pulled me closer to him, even as the blade I held to him dug deeper into his flesh. He was lost to the need that wracked both of our bodies. We were little more than animals in heat, the lust between us taking over entirely.

  Wanting more of him, I cast the dagger aside and raked my nails down his back, cutting through his flesh—his scars. He bit my shoulder in return, drawing blood. As it trickled down my arm, I bucked harder against his hold. Wild and untamed, I rode him with the reckless sense of freedom he had once tempted me with. And in that moment, I understood why he had sought it so ardently. I would have killed to relive that feeling a thousand times. Perhaps worse.

  I could feel the tension building in me as Oz’s kisses brutalized my mouth and body. I would be bruised and sore when it was over, of that I had no doubt. We had been to war with one another; one that felt as though it had been brewing for far longer than was possible, given the short time I had known him. And the moment that we climaxed, he yanked my head back with a fistful of hair and nipped the exposed flesh of my neck.

  “You may have won this battle, Khara, but our war is far from over.” He released my hair only to capture my mouth with his yet again, kissing me with a fierceness that stirred a warning somewhere deep within me. The second he pulled away, I was met with the same smug expression he had worn the day I met him. “If you ever think of employing this tactic to gain information from me, I’ll make you regret it.” With that, he set me aside and stood up to survey the remnants of our clothing that lay like carnage around us. Then his eyes fell back on my naked form still lying on the rooftop. His gaze ran over me like a harsh caress, and my insides warmed. But when he spoke, they cooled all too suddenly. “And if you ever use this tactic to leverage information from others, I’ll make you regret it even more.”

  Oz stalked toward the window that led to his former room, his arrogant swagger impossible not to track—especially when naked. Not wishing to be dismissed, I followed him, climbing through the small window. I entered what proved to be yet another battle. My father stood alone in the middle of the space, staring at Oz as he seethed with anger. When his eyes fell upon me, that anger fell to disappointment.

  “How could you, Khara?” he asked, his voice hollow and cold.

  “We had a matter that needed to be settled,” I replied, my voice as detached as his.

  “And you needed to settle this matter naked?” The incredulity in his tone was noted, as was the cruel twist of his features.

  “So it appears.”

  “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” Oz added, refueling my father’s anger. “Four times, to be exact…”

  “You are not helping,” I said, walking across the room to the exit while Oz made a show of grabbing a pair of pants off the floor and slowly pulling them up. His eyes tracked me like I was prey, following every movement I made with decided interest.

  “Khara, you must—”

  “I must find clothing that hasn’t been shredded by a blade, Father. Once I am dressed, perhaps then we could resume this conversation, if you feel it necessary.”

  I heard Oz snort at my reply. Then I heard footsteps headed toward me. Whose they were, I could not be certain.

  Still fully undressed, I stalked through the halls of the house, headed for the sanctuary of the basement. I encountered none of my brothers along the way, a small blessing in and of itself, but I could feel my pursuer behind me. As I reac
hed the basement door, he finally spoke.

  “Looks like the Princess of the Underworld disappointed Daddy…”

  “Making poor romantic choices is hardly something he can judge me for,” I countered, descending the stairs. The hollow sound that echoed through the basement with every step soon multiplied as Oz followed me down.

  “Romantic choices? That’s an interesting euphemism for what that was.”

  “I excel at diplomacy.”

  “Or denial.”

  “Oh no, dear Oz. Denial is your specialty, remember?” I hazarded a glance over my shoulder to find him glaring at me, undoubtedly catching my reference to our earlier discussion about fear. He buttoned the top of the pants he’d procured on his pursuit as if they offended him. “And my need for diplomacy only increased thanks to your commentary. I wonder if you might ever learn to hold your tongue.”

  “I only stated the truth.”

  “You have not seen me fully bare four times. You said what you said for a single purpose—to enrage Hades further.”

  “You’re right about my motives…”

  I paused for a moment, the drawer that squeaked as I pulled it out falling silent.

  “But?” I pressed.

  “But I was not lying.”

  Not wanting to face him without something covering me, I reached in the drawer and grabbed a long black sweater. I pulled it down over my head, then turned to face him as I arranged the hem just enough to cover myself. His eyes betrayed him as they darted to that hem and back to meet my gaze.

  “You saw me in the shower when you tried to warm me after the Stealer attack,” I said, recounting the memory.

  Oz held up a finger. “That’s one—”

  “And after your ridiculous ploy to thwart Kaine in the Underworld.”

  Another finger went up. “That’s two—”

  I racked my brain to think of any other occasion when he had seen me naked. “When I came to you as you slept that night—”

  “That’s three,” he said, holding up as many fingers. “You’re on a roll, new girl.”

  “I’m not on a roll because today is the only other time.”

  “Wrong.” Anger bled through his amusement as he spoke, and I could not discern why his mood had darkened so quickly.

  “Then explain, for I have no memory of this other alleged naked encounter.”

  His lecherous smile turned sharp and feral. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Because I was unconscious?” I asked, thinking of the night in the Underworld when he had rendered me so. I’d woken up naked, wrapped in a giant black wing of death. Perhaps that had not been the only time he’d employed that tactic.

  “No.” That word was a growl of warning. “I may be many things, Khara, but a rapist is not one.”

  Something about the weight of his gaze and the power of my name on his tongue made plain the fact that he was not lying. Though I could not deny the small sense of relief I felt at his denial, my confusion was still rampant.

  “When, then?”

  His eyes traveled my body again before his arrogant smile reappeared. “Maybe that’s a story for another time.”

  “No.”

  “No?” he countered, amusement in his voice.

  “No,” I repeated, heat in my tone. “You will tell me now. I tire of your secrets.”

  “And I tire of your demands.”

  “If you do not tell me, then I will be left to assume that you are both a liar and a rapist, for I cannot recall another instance when you have seen me nude.”

  He crossed the room in a blur of motion, stopping to hover above me, our bodies pressed together as he stared down at me.

  “I have seen you naked without your recollection because it was so long ago that you could not possibly remember—unless you can vividly recall the day you were born. And before you ask, I have kept that information to myself to keep you safe. In fact, everything I have ever done since that day was in an effort to ensure your safety. I made a promise to someone, and I have spent an eternity keeping it at the expense of my position, my honor, and my wings. My life was glorious before that moment, and I traded that in the second I made that promise. And despite what Kaine says, I never betrayed your mother’s faith in me. So you may not like me, my motives, or my actions, but you do not get to judge them. Ever. If it weren’t for me, you would not be alive to judge them at all.”

  As quickly as he was upon me, he was gone, disappearing up the stairs to leave me alone in the darkness of the basement. Alone with my rampant thoughts. And alone with the newly acquired knowledge that Oz, my seemingly reluctant ally, had given up his place with the Light Ones to keep me safe from Ares.

  Because he promised my mother he would.

  21

  There would be no time to discuss the implications of what Oz had said. The hour to take Hades and Persephone to the in-between was upon us. Once I was properly attired, I made my way upstairs to find Persephone arguing with my father.

  “I still cannot believe you have agreed to this,” she said to my father, frustration in her tone.

  “We have few options, my love.”

  “Trusting the Dark Ones is nothing short of pure lunacy.”

  “Perhaps…” I said, interrupting them.

  “And what of Deimos?” She stepped closer to me, and I felt the tension in the room rise. My brothers stood, their bodies taut. Casey drew his blades. “He has abandoned your father to his fate on Earth, and he can easily travel to the in-between. Your deal with Kaine will have no bearing on the god of terror. Unless of course, Sister, you were smart enough to include that in your deal.”

  “No harm is to befall my father while he is entrusted to Kaine, by his own hand, the Dark Ones he rules, or otherwise.”

  “He cannot kill Deimos,” she said plainly. The challenge in her tone was clear.

  “He will not need to.”

  “And how can you be certain of that?”

  “Because Deimos wants the same thing as Kaine. He too knows he will not have it if he harms my father.”

  I could see the question burning in her eyes—her desire to know what precisely I had that either of them could want so badly—but it soon faded to understanding. She kept her realization to herself. Persephone was no fool. She knew if my father understood exactly what had been leveraged for his safety, he never would have conceded to the idea. And like it or not, she knew Hades was not any safer on Earth.

  “Perhaps I have misjudged you, then, Sister. You are far more suited to the Underworld than I had been led to believe.”

  “It is my home,” I said. “I learned much in my time there.”

  “As it is mine,” she replied. “And I wish to return there. Soon.”

  Persephone and my father made their way out the door, ready to travel to the in-between; prepared to leave me in charge of restoring his reign and her ability to return.

  I hoped I would not disappoint them.

  I hoped we were not making a terrible mistake.

  I did not know what to expect when we broke through the clouds. Perhaps I expected what humans would have seen: a vast expanse of sky. Instead, I was greeted by a realm of dullness. There was color, but everything looked drained, as if it were slowly having the life leached from it.

  Oz continued along, unfazed by his surroundings. There were mountains in the distance, which made me think the in-between really was another realm, something in a dimension other than Earth. He slowed when we reached the foothills surrounding a snow-capped mountain. He placed my father down before landing. I did the same with Persephone.

  My feet had just touched when Kaine and some of his Dark Ones strode out of a cave. He surveyed our group quickly before focusing all his attention on me. With brisk steps, he closed the distance between us.

  “My men will get the king and queen settled inside,” he said by way of greeting as he gestured to the mountain behind him. Two of the Dark Ones moved forward to escort Hades and Persephone to their tempor
ary home. Just as they reached them, I shot my arm out.

  “I do not know you, Kaine, or your honor, so allow me to be very clear about something before I leave here today.” His head cocked to the side with curiosity. “If anything happens to either of them while in your care, I will bring the lightning of Zeus and the fire of the Dragon and anything else I can down upon you until all that is left of this world is ash and blood.”

  The slightest twinkle of amusement shone in his clear blue eyes as he stared at me, arms folded across his chest.

  “I should love to learn how you are capable of those things, Khara. Perhaps you will tell me when this is all over.”

  I stepped closer to him. “Provided you do not make me show you first.”

  His mouth curled slightly at the corner.

  I took the gesture as agreement with my terms, and I lowered my arm to allow Hades and Persephone to be taken away. My father looked back over his shoulder at me, concern furrowing his brow. Persephone simply glanced back and nodded, an acknowledgment that she knew what was at stake and would protect my father as well. But who would protect her from her mouth, I wondered?

  “Time to go, new girl,” Oz said in my ear. His hand on the small of my back made my mind flash to what we’d done on the rooftop. Blood rushed through my body.

  Kaine looked down at Oz’s hand, then at my face. The amusement he had just shown fell from his expression in an instant.

  “I am afraid she won’t be leaving with you,” he said, looking at Oz.

  Oz’s fingers dug into the leather of my jacket. “The fuck she won’t.”

  “I will leave with whomever I choose,” I said, ignoring the tension in Oz’s body.

  “I need to speak to you—alone,” he explained. “Oz will only interfere.”

  “Though I must agree that is one of his specialties, if I can promise that he will wait here so you can tell me whatever it is you must, will that suffice?”

  Oz growled in frustration.