Kissed by a Dark Prince (Volume 1) (12 page)

He wanted to kiss her.

And by God she wanted him to do it.

She wanted to kiss him, had skirted around that desire several times in the past hour alone, pretending it didn’t exist and that she didn’t hunger for the feel of Loren’s hands on her body, bringing her out of the dark loneliness of her life and awakening passion and pleasure within her.

Loren angled his head, his eyes hooded with desire, locked on her mouth.

Olivia panicked, unsure of her feelings. They tore her in two different directions, pulling her between shoving him away and letting him draw her into his embrace.

Her heart pounded.

His breath stuttered.

Olivia’s gaze betrayed her and fell to his sensual lips as they parted, her pulse increasing as she subconsciously leaned towards him, rising on her toes to meet him.

The doors behind her opened, the sound startling in volume in the silent corridor. Bleu muttered something dark sounding in the elf language.

Loren froze, eased his hands away from her hips, and moved back a step, placing some distance between them.

Olivia came to her senses too and wished that she hadn’t because she couldn’t bring herself to look at Loren when her head was full of thoughts about kissing him, and she definitely couldn’t bring herself to look at Bleu.

When they had been alone, Bleu had made no secret of his feelings. He had told her straight that Loren was off limits to her and that he would protect his prince by any means necessary. She had filled in the blanks for herself. Bleu would kill her if she made any attempt to steal his prince’s heart.

It was a good job that she was only interested in him in a purely academic way then, wasn’t it? She had absolutely no desire to grab Loren, pin him to the nearest wall and kiss him senseless. That would be stupid. She would probably lose her job and her head shortly afterwards.

It didn’t stop the thought of going through with it from spinning around her head though.

Loren wanted to kiss her too. Bleu evidently knew that and had made it his personal mission to keep them apart. Would something as innocent as a kiss complete the bond between them?

She didn’t think so. If it could, then Loren wouldn’t be giving her heated looks that had her toes curling in her trainers, risking provoking her into planting one on him.

He wanted this bond broken.

Didn’t he?

“Maybe we should test your stamina,” Olivia said and blushed when both men quirked eyebrows in her direction, as if she had suggested a marathon lovemaking session. “On the treadmill.”

Olivia scurried away, leaving them to follow her.

Loren said something terse to Bleu in their language and she glanced over her shoulder to see if they were following her. He looked across at her just as she did. His eyes met hers again and a flash of purple briefly coloured them.

Lust or rage?

He followed her, dragging Bleu along by the arm until the male shirked his grip and obediently followed, still muttering black things under his breath. Loren’s handsome face twisted in a grim expression and he shot Bleu an irritated glare.

Perhaps it was a bit of both making his eyes switch.

Olivia turned away and led them down the cream corridor to the large room where they tested the hunters’ fitness levels. The wall lining the corridor was mostly glass, allowing everyone to see inside. She didn’t enjoy the thought of everyone being able to watch Loren while he ran, seeing his body on display. It caused a tight knot in her chest that was impossible to ignore, even though she did her damnedest to do just that.

She hoped for their sake that Loren and Bleu could control their emotions while she was testing them too. If Loren had another outburst like the one in the other room, when he had tried to strangle Bleu because she had dared to touch him, someone would see it through the glass. They would have hunters inside in an instant and the other doctors would be reporting them to her superiors.

Her superiors would probably order the hunters to catch and contain them, labelling them dangerous.

Which she supposed they were. Loren wanted to kill any male who went near her, including his friend. Bleu just wanted to kill everyone else.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Olivia reminded herself that this whole affair wasn’t her fault. It was some elf called Vail’s fault. He had orchestrated this to weaken Loren and have revenge on him, all because Loren had tried to take him down by harming his female. It sounded petty to Olivia, but if someone tried to harm Loren right now, when she was feeling a little bit possessive of him too, she would probably try to make them pay for it.

She went into the room and set about getting two of the treadmills ready for them. She wasn’t sure what speed setting to use so she cranked it right up and then dialled it back a couple of notches. Many fae and demons displayed incredible stamina and speed. She had seen Loren cross a room in a blur to launch an attack on Bleu. Elves were most likely one of those fae.

Bleu said something gruff to Loren.

Loren came forwards and studied the two running machines, and the wires dangling from them. “What are these?”

“You run on them. I’m going to hook you guys up, and we’ll monitor your vitals, and your breathing too. It will give me a better picture of your abilities and it’s one of the tests I have to run for the other doctors.” Olivia probably shouldn’t have added that part about the other doctors. It caused Loren’s black eyebrows to pinch together and his eyes to narrow.

Bleu bit out something she couldn’t understand.

Was he going to talk in their language around her all the time now? It gave her the feeling that he was shutting her out and trying to make Loren do the same.

He was probably saying horrible things about her and Archangel.

“How long must we run?” Loren said and she moved away from the machines, went to the end of the room nearest the doors, and set up the computer.

“Thirty minutes.” It would give her enough time to monitor the effects of the bond on Loren. If he were weaker because of their incomplete connection, then he would show signs of fatigue and elevated stress levels. Olivia caught his concerned look as he gazed at the machines and then at her. He didn’t need to say it aloud for her to get the message. She was already aware of what she had proposed. She was signing up for the same fatigue and stress, and the same raised heart rate. “Believe me. I’m looking forward to it as much as you are.”

“When we break the bond, you will no longer suffer this tie to me.” Loren eyed the machine and frowned as he curled his fingers into fists at his sides. “The same will happen if we must complete it.”

Olivia was going to pretend he hadn’t just mentioned completing the bond again. It wasn’t going to happen. If he tried to force it on her, he was going to have Sable and half of Archangel dragging him down to the cellblock for some very nasty jail time with the twisted ex-hunters who guarded the prisoners. They were notoriously heavy-handed and ‘accidental’ deaths of the inmates were common.

If he died, would the bond break?

She opened her mouth to ask but snapped it shut again before the words could leave her lips and slid a wary glance at Bleu. The elf would probably kill her on the spot to free his prince from the bond if she suggested they broke it via one of their deaths.

She finished setting up the machines, grabbed two sets of sweat shorts off the pile of clean clothes and held them out to Bleu and Loren. They both cocked eyebrows at them.

“You can’t run in armour, and I need to place...” She really wasn’t sure this was a wise thing to say. She pointed to the machines. “I need to stick those wires on you.”

Loren unleashed a snarl and glared at Bleu.

Bleu backed off a step. “The female will put them on you and I will place mine on myself, following her instruction. I do not want her touching me.”

Loren’s shoulders relaxed. He rolled them and stalked to the nearest machine.

“You can change behind the curtain.” Olivia indicated the one at the back of the room. Loren looked at it, and then down at the shorts, and curled his lip, flashing a hint of fang.

“I am not sure this is wise,” he said, voice a dark growl, “You will see Bleu again.”

Bleu huffed, rolled his eyes, and spoke in their language. Loren barked something back at him. Bleu countered, his tone gaining a sharp edge, his expression hardening with it. Loren shoved him in the chest and Bleu growled and stood up to him.

“What if I solemnly swear not to look at Bleu?” Olivia bravely stepped between the quarrelling men, forming a barrier she hoped would prevent Loren from slugging Bleu again. Or vice versa. The blow Bleu had landed on Loren’s jaw earlier had left its mark. An ugly rich black and purple one.

Loren looked as though he wanted to tell her it wouldn’t be enough but grated out, “Fine.”

He snatched both pairs of shorts and went behind the curtain. Bleu followed. Olivia cringed when they began arguing again.

Loren was the first to emerge. His lip had a nice new split. Bleu came out next and she risked a brief glance at him. He sniffed and wiped his bloodied nose on the back of his hand, the action causing one of the long slashes across his chest to split open again. He huffed, picked up one of the towels from the stack on the bench, and dabbed at the wounds on his torso, wiping the blood away.

“Can you dial down the testosterone for the next thirty minutes?” she said to Loren and a flicker of something distinctly like guilt crossed his expression.

She kept her eyes on him and him alone as she hooked him up to the machine. Whenever she stuck one of the pads on his chest, his markings shimmered into being, chasing across his skin. She sneakily brushed his left pectoral as she placed the pad on it and felt him shiver beneath her caress, and her heart picked up. His doing. His gaze bore into her, intent on her face. She glanced up at him, her eyes briefly meeting his, just long enough to see that they were verging on purple again and his pupils had gobbled up his irises, turning them dark with passion.

Olivia trembled in response, the shivery hot ache returning, running through her and driving her to touch him again. She swept her fingers over his side as she placed the remaining pads on him. He leaned towards her and she looked up at him, anticipation swirling inside of her, cranking her so tightly that she was tiptoeing towards him, bringing her lips to his before she got control of herself.

Loren looked disappointed when she placed the mask over his mouth and nose and tightened it.

That feeling echoed in Olivia, and this time it wasn’t a product of the bond. It was becoming harder and harder to resist her desire to know his lips and to feel his arms around her, gathering her close as he kissed her. She wanted it as much as he did and resisting it hurt her just as much too.

She stepped away from him, giving Bleu a clear view of him. She kept her gaze on her feet as she told him which pads to stick where and waited until he announced that he was done before she moved to the computer and checked his vitals to ensure he had followed her instructions correctly.

Both Loren and Bleu’s vitals were coming in perfectly.

“What size feet do you both have?” She rummaged through the boxes of running shoes they kept on hand.

“Why is that necessary information?” Loren looked down at his bare feet. “It does not seem relevant.”

Olivia held up a pair of orange and black running shoes. “For your feet.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Bleu shook his head at the same time as Loren.

“We would rather run barefoot. How does this thing work?” Loren stepped onto the machine and grabbed the handlebars when the belt beneath his feet moved. “I see.”

“Just start out slowly. Try to keep pace with each other,” Olivia said but Bleu paid her no attention and picked up pace at a frightening speed.

Her eyes shot to the computer. He was going too fast. The machine was reading him at over twenty miles per hour already.

“Slow it down. This is about stamina. It’s not a race, Bleu.”

Loren growled. Olivia made a mental note not to use Bleu’s name or speak to him specifically while he had his top off. The effect of the bond was fascinating though. Loren clearly regretted his actions whenever he attacked or threatened Bleu, as if he had no control over himself. Did the bond drive him to protect her from any male he viewed as a threat, whether it was a threat of physical harm or a threat of stealing her away from him?

She couldn’t exactly ask him. If she did, he would think she desired Bleu and wanted his attention, or something equally as ridiculous. She didn’t want to provoke him into attacking his friend again.

Olivia studied them on the computer, already feeling the effect of Loren’s running, even though he had only been at it for a few minutes. His statistics were far lower than Bleu’s, and she felt terrible as she watched them deteriorating. They were still above the levels of an extremely fit human, measuring high above Archangel’s best hunters, but Bleu was in a different league. He showed zero signs of fatigue. His pulse was slow and steady, and his breathing was just as even and unaffected by his running.

She looked over her shoulder at them. Both men were keeping pace with each other, but there was a marked difference in their gait. Bleu had effortless strides. Loren was struggling with his and already a fine sheen of sweat coated his back.

Olivia lost track of time as she stared at his back, mesmerised by the way his muscles shifted beneath his pale skin. His markings flashed over his shoulders and down his back, and he growled, turning his head slightly towards her.

Did she make that happen?

Whenever the markings had done something similar back when he had taken her to his castle, he had glared at her as though she had caused them to flare. Did they irritate him?

They shimmered again and her heart picked up this time, pounding harder. A sudden rush of desire blazed through her blood and Loren frowned and ran faster, pushing himself. Olivia’s head spun and she struggled to breathe.

“Slower... please?” she whispered and leaned over to clutch her knees. They trembled, her legs feeling achy and tired, as if she was the one running.