Empire of Secrets: A New Adult Paranormal Romance with Young Adult Appeal (God of Secrets Book 2)

by L. R. W. Lee

  You go, girl!

  His thumb stops, and he withdraws his arm from around me.

  I exhale, despite the sudden coldness, to find a smile playing on his lips, like I foiled his best effort to distract me.

  But then he wrinkles his brow, draws a finger up, and starts tapping his lips.

  I roll my eyes, to myself. Not this again.

  Sanity is returning, and with it logic, and even though my skin still feels his caress on my shoulder, the facts are realigning.

  Don’t let him escape, Pell.

  Maybe if I talk it through like I did with the other…. “Secret magic practically strangled Nuria earlier, for almost saying something about my ring, and that got me thinking.”

  His tapping slows but continues.

  “I was wearing my ring when I read those scrolls with their secrets.” I will my magic to remain inside me, then slide the silver band off my finger and hold it up. “But you said this ring is what blocked me from knowing anything about sealing secrets or secret magic.”

  He meets my eyes, as if encouraging me to keep going.

  “I can only assume that’s why I was able to read the scrolls, because, I’m guessing, secret magic would have stopped me from doing so, like it did Nuria, if I hadn’t been wearing it. Yet Irik”—I staunch a growl—“who no way, no how, has secret magic, translated a few letters, at least enough to know I was reading it incorrectly.”

  He stops tapping and leans in, as if spurring me on.

  “If Irik had been the one to read those scrolls aloud instead of me, would the sphinx, Zephyr, and Midas have been brought back?”

  His lips press together in a slight grimace, and he draws a hand to the back of his neck.

  What? Did my logic take me in the wrong direction?

  Pell, no… don’t let this slippery, slimy salamander slither away.

  I can’t help but admire my inner minion’s alliteration. If the situation wasn’t so serious, I’d laugh and congratulate her, but it is serious.

  He won’t slither away. Not this time.

  “Pell… I promised to be forthcoming.” He’s struggling to find the right words.

  He did promise, so why is this such a struggle?

  He exhales heavily. “Pell, you’ve absolutely no idea how much I want to answer your question.”

  “But….”

  “If I do—” Harpoc reaches for his throat and his mouth drops open in a silent scream.

  “Harpoc!” My eyes go wide and I’m on my knees in an instant. The rose petals he tucked behind my ears earlier, flutter free. I couldn’t care less.

  Gagging and choking. They’re the only sounds, as he holds his throat, the same as Nuria.

  My heart races. I’ve no idea how to help him and I wring my hands.

  His face registers sheer agony, and he starts thrashing, sliding down the sectional cushion, still clutching his throat.

  “Harpoc!” I shriek.

  He slides onto the deck, hitting his forehead on the marble front of the fire pit, as he convulses directly below where I bounce on the cushion from one knee to the other.

  Portia’s gone for the night, so there’s no one to call, not that she was any help when secret magic attacked Nuria.

  “Stop!” I yell at the sky at the top of my lungs, fisting the ring in my upraised hand.

  Nothing changes. Still he writhes, hands clutching his neck.

  I’m crying, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Please. Stop hurting him,” I whimper. I’ll beg whoever I have to, to make this stop.

  Dark shadows start shooting from him, making me freak.

  “Please… I’ll stop asking about… about everything, just stop… please stop hurting him. Please….”

  Harpoc’s body goes limp in an instant, and he starts to pant.

  I suck in a breath.

  It stopped. It stopped.

  My heart’s racing and I swallow hard. My promise made it stop.

  Harpoc moans and reaches for his forehead.

  But realization freezes me. My promise to stop questioning, made secret magic stop hurting him.

  Fury ignites in me in a heartbeat. Is that what strangling Harpoc is about? Secret magic eliciting… my compliance?

  Harpoc grabs for his throat again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “No! Stop! Don’t.” More tears stream down my cheeks.

  My temper rages even hotter as Harpoc gasps, clawing at his throat.

  “Stop!” I yell, at the stars.

  Compliance is being extracted from my very soul. The thought practically turns me into one of the Furies.

  Secret magic is sneaky, underhanded, and dishonest. And boy, does it fight dirty. No wonder corrupt politicians are no big deal around this place.

  Harpoc claws at his throat, and I’m about to lose it.

  It’s using my feelings for him to coerce me into quiet servitude.

  Bull shit.

  Harpoc starts thrashing.

  The longer I fight, the more he suffers. I can’t do this to him. I can’t beat this shit!

  I’m so angry I could spit, but I raise my hands. “Fine. Fine, you win. I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Tears continue streaming down my face. It feels like my soul has been cleaved in two.

  Harpoc exhales heavily, on his side.

  Defeat, disgust, and disdain for secret magic fills me as I shove my ring back on before I lose the damn thing. Whether I’d been wearing it or not, it wouldn’t have stopped secret magic from practically killing Harpoc. I swipe at my tears and slide down to the floor. “Harpoc.” I run a hand over his wavy onyx locks that are in complete disarray. “Baby.”

  A corner of his mouth hitches as he takes in my expression. He eases over onto his back, still catching his breath.

  “Help me up.” He motions with a hand.

  “Just lay still until you’re okay.”

  “I am. It’s not the first time.”

  I can’t staunch a growl.

  He closes his eyes and basks in my disdain, but only for a second. “Come on, help me up.” He twists to his side again, easing up with an elbow.

  He won’t be deterred. He starts to sit up, so I put my hands under his armpits and guide him up to sitting on the sectional. All that gorgeous muscle makes him heavier than he looks.

  I watch him, worry no doubt marring my face.

  He smiles as he runs a hand through his messy locks, but his beautiful eyes are filled with sadness. “Welcome to my life.”

  The night air is chilly without the throw that fell to the deck at some point, but rather than retrieve it, I slide over to his side where I long to be, safe and secure.

  I need to know he’s really okay because I’m sure not.

  But he doesn’t wrap an arm around me as I expect. Rather, he pulls me up onto his lap, his subtle citrus, with a hint of cloves, wholly masculine, wholly Harpoc scent, fills my nose.

  Desire that fills his eyes, barely registers before his lips crash down on mine. He’s not gentle like he usually is. No, this kiss is fierce, powerful, and intense. It’s a claiming kiss.

  And I’m all too eager to be claimed after what secret magic did… to us—it no doubt thinks it won. Ha! It’s got another think coming if it believes that, because that attack bound us closer together.

  We now have a common enemy.

  His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and all thoughts except of him vanish. I moan as, together, our tongues tangle and dance in one of the most expressive jazz dances ever.

  I’ve nearly lost myself when he pulls back, breathing heavy.

  There’s no humor, just seduction that lights his gold and silver eyes.

  I fail to see how he can be turned on after what happened, but I’m no better, because I can’t ignore the fairies that launch in an instant, filling my stomach, not with nervous fluttering like usual, but with a lightness I’m not used to.

  He brushes my cheek with his hand, drying the last of my tears, then plays with one of the curls that li
ne my face tonight. “You’re beautiful.”

  Despite my general aversion to compliments, I’m completely captivated and can’t look away.

  I feel his hand drop to my chest, and look down, we both do, to see his fingers begin a dance on my breastbone, at the bottom of the V in my dress’s bodice.

  In and out, they waltz.

  I look up and our gazes meet, and I read the question, the asking permission, despite the wildness that’s still in his eyes.

  In and out.

  My breathing hitches as the fairies change to the tango.

  In and out.

  We’ve been dancing around this possibility since we met.

  In and out.

  Him learning of my moan at the feel of secret magic, it was practically an invitation.

  In and out.

  And now that we’re united in purpose….

  In and out.

  I’ve never done this with anyone.

  In and out.

  But I trust him, completely.

  In and out.

  I bob my head, and the wildness in his eyes shifts to pure desire. One of the fingers that’s been circling, extends to trace the V.

  Up and down, following the edge of the fabric.

  Gooseflesh pimples my skin.

  Up and down.

  I want him.

  Up and down.

  All of him.

  He slips his hand under the fabric, then drops down, lower, over the bare flesh of my breast, and cups it, holding it there.

  We both moan.

  Who would have thought his touch could feel so good.

  I lean forward and claim his mouth with mine. I can’t get enough of him.

  His fingers start caressing my mounded flesh, circling, circling, circling my peaked nipple, every stroke sending electricity through me.

  But when he draws a finger across the tip, I let out another, longer moan.

  I can’t help it. I’ve never felt anything even remotely close to how mind-blowingly good, how unquestionably right, this feels.

  He draws back from our kiss, but desire still fills his eyes as he removes his hand from my bodice, then slides out from under me and lays me back against the couch’s pillows.

  I have no time to wonder anything, because he slips a finger under my dress’s shoulder strap, making it fall limply to my bicep.

  A shiver rocks my body as a mix of excitement, but also anxiety, build. I mean, he just felt my breast. He knows it’s small but feeling and seeing are two completely different things.

  He must think I’m getting cold because the flames in the fire pit suddenly dance higher and I feel more warmth. It helps only a little, because anxiety takes a bite out of me as I let him guide my arm free of the strap.

  But I can’t tamp down on the unease I’ve always felt when it comes to my body—my breasts might as well be half walnuts for the size of them.

  Stop, Pell. You’re bigger than that. And they’re not shriveled.

  I roll my eyes at her ‘shriveled’ remark. Fine, half an avocado.

  I can’t help it. I cover myself, as my heart starts to race.

  His eyes—the ones just like those I find comfort in—are soft. “You’re beautiful, Pell. Let me see you.”

  He wants to see me. My palms start to sweat.

  Pell, he doesn’t care what you think about yourself.

  Whose side are you on?

  Yours.

  He wants to see me.

  I look into his eyes but see only earnestness, so with trepidation, I slowly lower my arm.

  Hunger fills his eyes as his gaze roams, taking me and my half-an-avocado breast in.

  “You’re perfect.” Sincerity fills his voice.

  See, Pell.

  My brain can’t escape his ardor, nor comprehend it.

  “Would you let me see all of you?” Passion fills his tone.

  He wants to see… more?

  Say, yes, Pell.

  I lock eyes with him, scared to death to agree.

  He’s not laughing, Pell.

  Still…

  You can do this, Pell. You neeed to do this.

  I know my inner voice is right. I need to hear validation, but it’s so hard. I feel so raw.

  Pell…

  My stomach clenches as I summon any shred of courage and bite my lip.

  I nod.

  Harpoc’s expression is warm, as if he understands my inner conflict. He leans forward and frees my other arm from the strap but doesn’t give me time to cover up, because he leans down and takes my walnut in his mouth and suckles it.

  Stop calling it a walnut, Pell.

  Another moan, this one even louder, rises unbidden because his tongue is doing amazing things. Around and around my nipple it goes, then licking, then sucking.

  My toes curl as his five o’clock scruff heightens the titillation as it lightly brushes my skin.

  He switches to the other breast, and I arch toward him, unable to get enough of his bewitching. The space between my thighs warms unbidden.

  “Oh, Harpoc….” I run my hands through his wavy locks as he continues to devour each breast. One, then the other, and back again, over and over.

  He takes to fondling one while he suckles the other, and I’m going to come out of my skin with the explosion of sensations he elicits.

  He’s breathing hard, we both are, when he finally leans back with a smile on his face. “You are exquisite.” It comes out a purr.

  My face warms, and I move to cover myself.

  “Pell, don’t. Don’t.” It comes out a plea. “Don’t be embarrassed. Your breasts are incomparable.”

  “Seen a fair number, have ya?” I can’t help it; the snark slips out with my discomfort.

  His smile broadens into a grin. “None like yours.”

  It’s not an answer, but I’m not about to go chase one down, and he knows it, judging by the wink he gives me.

  Despite his plea, my arms tense. I long to cover up.

  Pell, give his way a try.

  I hear my inner voice, but still I hesitate.

  You can do it, Pell.

  Can I really? Can I embrace the sentiment he offers?

  Just give it a try, Pell.

  A try. Maybe I can.

  I steel my nerve. A try.

  “You’re so beautiful, Pell. Just relax.” His words carry only warm encouragement.

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, dropping my shoulders back, but it’s hard not to fidget, fully exposed as I am.

  His expression softens, and I can tell he’s touched that I’m willing to try this path with him.

  He runs his gaze over my face, down my neck, and over my shoulders. He lingers on my breasts, but finally continues on down to my curveless midriff, where the fullness of my dress rests.

  “I don’t deserve you.” It comes out a murmur.

  I’m about to reply in kind when movement out of the corner of my eye, behind Harpoc, draws my attention. I barely tamp down a shriek as I lunge for the throw, but it’s out of reach.

  “Harp.” The higher pitched voice is strangely out of place with the burly male uniformed soldier who materializes out of thin air without so much as a shadow following him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Aura,” Harpoc says, voice flat, twisting around.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you.”

  I fumble to cover myself, anger igniting at his, her, its… whatever… insincerity because this soldier doesn’t sound one bit sorry, much less act the least bit embarrassed, because there’s no way he didn’t get a full view of me, in all my glory.

  Then again, this… shadow being… wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by her nudity in that barely there outfit the other day.

  Doesn’t matter, it’s my body we’re talking about this time.

  Harpoc slides over to block his view of me, swiping at the floor and grabbing the soft throw. He hands it me, then rises.

  I hastily wrap it around myself, not bo
thering with my straps.

  Does Aura show up unannounced on a regular basis? If so, that’s got to stop.

  Harpoc strides over to the shadow being not saying a word; he’s more composed than me. I’d be yelling.

  I’m not paying attention to their conversation, just hearing Aura’s alto voice rising as a part of the night’s background noise and it’s enough to put me on edge.

  Rawness and intimacy… desecrated… by this… this clueless being.

  Perhaps I should be glad Aura’s clothed this time, but I feel utterly exposed.

  My inner voice remains silent. Good.

  I clutch at my blanket cocoon and stare into the fire, watching the flames dance.

  Several minutes later, Aura vanishes and Harpoc strides back to me. “I don’t know if you overheard.”

  I shake my head.

  “She won’t intrude here at home without announcing herself first, in the future.”

  I exhale. “Thank you.”

  He runs the back of his fingers over my cheek. “I need to go address this. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  I force a smile as he leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  His shadows swallow him up a minute later, and I’m alone with just the dancing flames, the awful feeling of being exposed, and the sounds of the night. And for the first time in forever, I don’t want to be alone.

  That thought makes me sit up. I don’t want to be alone.

  I’ve lived by myself since I graduated college and have loved every minute of the peace and quiet, because I sure didn’t have peace much less quiet growing up, and dorm life could be crazy at times.

  Harpoc told me not to wait up, but I realize… I want to… for him.

  I head for the god-size shower, and as the water caresses my body, just like his hands and mouth caressed it earlier, thoughts of this evening flow through my brain.

  When Harpoc divulged my true identity a couple days ago, I’d wondered whether there might be anything else about my past that was a secret. I have my answer based upon what happened to Nuria earlier and Harpoc tonight—and my ring’s at the heart of it. There’s something there, and secret magic doesn’t want it ever coming out.

  Except I’m not playing by its rules.