Silken Rapture: Princes of the Underground, Book 2 (26 page)

“I think, once again, the Magia have had their hand in that, although I can’t be sure. Maybe the Magia had nothing to do with it, at least in the past, because until a few weeks ago Christina and he weren’t together. I always got the impression Saint sort of kept Christina at a distance. He was aware of her, though. We all were aware of Christina.”

“What do you mean?” Blaise asked, even though he suspected the truth already.

“I think you know,” Isi said quietly. He glanced around his suite with a narrowed gaze. “I feel something similar here. It’s like being in Christina’s vicinity. Her vitessence never seems to diminish. I’ve never witnessed anything like it. It’s never-ending. Christina…radiates.”

Blaise nodded. Creatures such as Isi and him did not exist within the orbit of a woman like Isabel or Christina and remain ignorant of their pull. “So Christina and Saint became involved, even though he’d managed to restrain himself for a decade.”

“It seemed that after they did, everything changed. Teslar became aware of Christina, as well.”

“Teslar fought for her?”

“Yes. I was there. Saint managed to weaken Teslar in the fight, and he fled, but we all knew that after that, Teslar wouldn’t rest until he possessed Christina. Saint insisted that Christina and Aidan stay at Whitby, within Kavya’s protective wards. It was during this time that I noticed they grew closer. You must understand, Saint never told me much at all in regard to his relationship with Christina. You are hearing about my observations. There’s much I don’t know.”

“Much that Kavya has forbidden Saint to tell me and my brothers, as well,” he said darkly.

“Yes. That much I’ve gathered. When we made the chance discovery that our territorial boundaries no longer applied, Saint called me to him. He said that his voice had been bound by Kavya’s magic, but mine had not. He said that he didn’t believe the Magia understood that our territorial boundaries had been broken.”

“They didn’t, but they know now,” Blaise admitted regretfully. “Usan read my mind about you being here, in Sanctuary. I’ve never seen him shocked before, but he was at that moment. Don’t worry,” Blaise said when he noticed Isi’s anxious expression. “He promised not to do anything in regard to you being here. I don’t know why—Usan is a never-ending puzzle to me—but he seemed determined to see how events played out without altering the circumstances. If Usan says he won’t interfere in the matter, he won’t. I have never known him to go back on his word. Go on with your story. Saint called you to him…”

“He told me he regretted not having told me more in regard to Teslar, but asked me to come to you and tell you everything that I knew about the events leading up to Teslar’s demise.”

“How
did
Teslar die?” Blaise demanded. He couldn’t wait a second longer for the answer to the burning question.

Isi shook his head slowly, a hint of frustration in his eyes. “I wish I could say exactly. It happened after Teslar had kidnapped Christina and kept her prisoner in the underground. Saint managed to discover her whereabouts and he took all of the Iniskium with him for an attack. We fought the Scourge while Saint went in search of his clone and Christina. What happened while Saint, Teslar and Christina were together is a mystery. All I know is at that one point, most of the Scourge seemed to lose their vitality. They were easily killed by the Iniskium when they’d fought like rabid beasts just seconds before. We destroyed them utterly on that day. It’s my belief—and Saint has never confirmed or denied this—that the Scourge were weakened at the same moment Teslar was destroyed. After the battle was won, Saint confirmed that Teslar was no more.”

Blaise sat back in his chair, stunned by the news. “It’s all connected with the woman—Christina. The change was wrought by her,” he murmured, somehow knowing what he said was true.

“Yes. I believe so, as well. And Blaise—” Isi shoved back the blanket that covered his torso, suddenly seeming impatient to be involved and active again instead of constrained by his condition. “There’s something else. Something important. In fact, I believe it’s the sole reason Saint chose me to come to you instead of the Iniskium chief, Fardusk.”

“What do you mean?”

“Saint told me something that to my knowledge, he’s never come right out and said to another Iniskium—even Fardusk. One night, Saint came upon me while I was guarding Christina on the Whitby grounds. He said that Aidan, Christina’s son, was his child.”

Blaise slowly became aware of the sound of his heart throbbing in his ears in the ensuing silence.

“You are sure? Saint told you he’d impregnated Christina?”

Isi flinched back slightly, and Blaise realized he’d stood and bellowed the question. The image of Margaret Turrow’s indignant expression if she’d seen his insensitivity around a sickbed flew into his mind’s eye unbidden.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just so important. Are you
certain
Saint said Aidan was his son?” he asked, carefully modulating the volume of his voice.

“Very certain. He must have impregnated Christina years ago, and not understood that Aidan was his until that very night. He seemed filled with the news…as if he’d just discovered it or—”

“Had just accepted the truth of it,” Blaise said under his breath.

Isi’s eyes sharpened on him. “Yes. It was just like that. He seemed filled with the miracle of the knowledge. Blaise? Are you all right?”

Blaise blinked and brought the wounded warrior back into focus. “All right?” he asked, his lips feeling numb. It was as if Isi had just asked him the most complex question in the universe.

How did one answer such a question when he lived and breathed and everything
looked
the same, but his entire world had just been turned upside-down?

“Blaise, there’s one other thing that Saint wanted you know…”

An hour later, he stood to leave Isi’s room and paused as sensation flooded him. He closed his eyes briefly.

“Blaise? Are you all right?” Isi asked. He glanced at the door, obviously sensing, like Blaise did, who waited for him in the hallway.

“Yes. Of course. Thank you for all you’ve done, Isi.”

He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him. She stood against the opposite wall of the corridor. She wore a caramel-colored nightgown and matching robe, the sash tied at her waist. Her hair spilled around her shoulders. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her sublime scent.

The scent of his mate.

Their gazes remained locked as she stepped closer. She removed the dark brown glove from her right hand. He held his breath as she unfastened one button on his shirt and slid her naked hand into the opening, caressing his abdomen, skin to skin. He gritted his teeth against a rush of raw emotion and sensation.

“You should not have avoided me,” she whispered, her stare blazing and fierce. “You should not have made me forget all those times we were together.”

He started beneath her magical touch.

“How did you know?” he asked roughly.

“Usan told me. Not specifically, but he transmitted a lot of information to me with his touch. It didn’t really come to me until now, seeing you standing there.
Why
?” she asked, anger now flavoring her tone. “How could you have made love to me all those times, and forced me to forget you? It was killing me, to have you ripped away from me time and again.”

He tightened his muscles against the pain. “One night, you came to me when I hadn’t taken nourishment. You were so powerful…so beautiful. I couldn’t resist you. It was a sheer impossibility, given my nature.”

“I’m not asking you why you first tasted my blood. I’m not asking you why you first made love to me. I have that part figured out, maybe better than you. I’m asking how you could possibly justify making me forget that we’d been lovers.”

The silence rang in his ears. She continued to stroke him. His body thrilled to her touch, making it difficult to concentrate.

“I didn’t want you to be horrified by having lain with me. I didn’t want you to regret, having given yourself to an animal again and again.”

“You were always a man when you made love to me. And if you refer to your shape-shifting nature, your wolf-self, Royal, was more of a gentleman to me than you were, Blaise.”

He blinked in shock. “Usan told you about my ability to shift, as well?”

She arched her brows in a dark challenge. “I am not Elysse.”

“No. There is no comparison. Not even close,” he admitted quietly, the truth of the words filling him with wonder. He spread his hand over her abdomen. She was so small, his fingers stretched from the top of her mons all the way to just below a thrusting breast. Her heartbeat throbbed into his palm. A feral sense of possession tore through him. The sensation of his incisors elongating coincided with the tug of his cock. “You carry my child. You are my mate.”

“Do you think you’re telling me something I don’t know?”

Her nostrils flared at that. His restraint broke. He lifted her against him and seized her mouth, ravishing her, consuming her singular texture and flavor.

“I have missed you,” he said in a choked voice as he moved his lips over her fragrant neck. “I felt broken, not being able to touch you.”

“Then there is a simple answer. You should never leave me again.” She raked her nails against his scalp, causing him to shudder in pleasure.

He swung her lower body into his arms. He didn’t take his eyes off her luminous face once as he stalked through the corridors of Sanctuary, carrying her. He didn’t want to risk her disappearing if he glanced away for a second. She was so beautiful, a breathing miracle.

She was
his.

The moment Blaise cleared the door to his quarters, Isabel pushed down with her legs, letting him know she wanted to stand. She immediately pressed her body against his and reached for the buttons on his shirt. She tore apart the fabric and pressed her face against smooth, taut skin covering rippling muscle.

“I don’t…know…why,” she said in between pressing kisses just below his nipple line. “But I always want to feel you fully pressed against me. I wonder if the hunger for it will ever ease?”

His fingers delved into her hair. He held her scalp against him as she kissed and licked and bit gently—a starved waif let loose in the candy store.

“I used to restrain myself from embracing you fully,” he said from above, his gruff, accented voice vibrating with feeling. “I would not let you fully hold me either, until that night on the silk.”

Her head fell back. She met his stare. The memory had come flooding back to her—every graphic, sensual detail—when he’d said the word
silk
. His hand opened over her jaw and he caressed her.

“You just now remembered it,” he more stated than asked.

“Yes,” she whispered, awed by the memories. “I should never forgive you for taking such a moment away from me, Blaise Sevliss.”

“If you do not forgive me, I will be unable to forgive myself.”

Even if he had not said the words, she would have forgiven him. She could not stand the anguish in his eyes. What right did she have to judge him, when he’d suffered so greatly for so long?

She placed her hands on his shoulders. When she pulled downward, he spread his hands over her bottom and lifted her. Isabel locked her legs around his waist and held him as tight as she could while they kissed, deep and hot, as if they’d never get enough of one another. When she licked at one of his extended incisors in a delicate, precise tease, he growled and swatted her bottom.

“No one has ever dared to do that to me before.” His low, ominous growl as he swept her toward his bedroom thrilled her.

Isabel laughed when he barged through the door and tossed her on the silken duvet on his large bed. He looked down at her, his teeth bared.

“No one has ever dared to tease the beast?” she whispered, a smile flickering around her lips. He looked so beautiful to her in that moment—his glossy black hair tousled and wild, his chest partially bared, a dangerous glint in his unique eyes, his arousal blatant. She flicked open her sash and drew off her robe. She sat up and removed her gown. When she sat before him wearing nothing but a smile, she met his stare.

“I dare,” she assured him, running her hand over the soft skin of her hips. She widened her thighs, beckoning him to her. “I dare to tempt the beast because I trust you, Blaise.”

His nostrils flared as he targeted her pussy with his gaze. “I don’t know if that’s wise.”

She dipped her forefinger into her creamy cleft. “Falling in love has nothing to do with wisdom,” she whispered.

He made a sound she thought she’d always remember, as if he were lost…as if he was found.

He slid his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her to him, his movements striking her as frantic and yet shockingly precise at once. His strength awed her.

A gasp tore out of her throat at the sensation of his mouth on her. Only her shoulders and head lay on the bed. He held her lower body at his mercy, her thighs in his hands spread wide for his ravishment. She watched him through narrowed slits as he feasted. His closed eyelids made him look so peaceful, as if he were in a zone of focus.

And he was, Isabel realized. He was creating magic. His tongue stabbed and agitated her clit then soothed it with firm, delicious strokes. He maintained an eye-crossing suction, not too hard, not too soft, consuming her juices even while he coaxed her to give him more. Her eyes opened wide a moment later when he scraped his incisors against her inner thigh. Pleasure rippled through her. Suddenly, his whole mouth was covering her outer sex and he was sucking gently while his tongue burrowed between her labia.

He opened his eyes and met her stare as he briskly waggled his tongue over her clit. The tingling burn ignited. She held on to his head as she screamed and exploded. Right at the peak of her climax, she felt him turn his head slightly, causing the top of his incisor to slide across her clit, carefully avoiding contact with the tip. It should have alarmed her, to have something so sharp near such sensitive tissue, but she trusted him.

She surrendered, giving herself to the rapture as her orgasm notched up to a higher level. She lost herself for a moment in bliss, knowing nothing but pleasure twining with the essence of her lover.