Darkness Possessed (Order of the Blade) (24 page)

Finally, she whirled around to face him. "What? What is it? What do you want?"

He paused, a forkful of fish halfway to his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "What are you talking about? I'm just eating."

"You're not just eating! You're sitting too close to me, you're breathing too steadily, and you're just oozing all this temptation right at me, and then not saying anything! What do you want from me? Just stop this!"

He stared at her, and then his massive shoulders gave a slow, lazy shrug. "Sweetheart, I'm just eating—"

"No, you're not! I'm not an idiot, you know. Sometimes the greatest weapon is the slow, stealthy approach, and you're doing that! It's not going to work because I noticed it, so just tell me what you want!"

A slow grin spread across his face, and he shifted to face her. "Well, now, I have to disagree on that one."

"On what one?"

"That it didn't work." He grinned wider. "I wanted you to start talking to me and stop shutting me out. Seems to me it worked."

She stared at him. "You're such a jerk."

He shrugged again. "If that's the worst you think of me, then I'm having a good day. I've been called a lot worse." Pain suddenly flashed across his face, pain so stark that she sucked in her breath, but it was gone a split second later.

Suddenly, her anger fled, and exhaustion set in, because she knew that pain. Maybe Zach wasn't so different from her. Maybe he would understand. With a heavy sigh, she set down her plate and turned to face him. "What do you want to know?"

He finished off his fish with one bite, tossed the plate aside, and then turned to face her. His dark eyes were intense, and his humor was gone. "I want to know a lot of things."

She swallowed. "Like what?"

"I want to know about the fire god. I want to know about the flames I saw in the forest. I want to know every damn thing there is to know about our enemy, and I want to know it before that damn wall comes down around us."

Relief rushed through her at his answer. He just wanted to know about the enemy? That was easy. She picked up her plate again to resume eating, grateful that he wasn't going to pry deeper. But even as she relaxed, she couldn't suppress the sudden surge of disappointment that he hadn't wanted to know more, to know why she was so scared, to know
her
. Which was stupid, of course. She didn't need him or anyone else to hold her hand, or to know the demons that haunted her. It wasn't as if he could take them away—

"I also want to know who hurt you. I want to know why you're so damned scared that you couldn't even run up your veggie wall." He leaned forward, and she caught her breath. "I want to know it because you're my partner in this little venture, but I also want to know it because you're a woman who has gotten under my skin so badly that I can't even think until I get it sorted out."

Heat washed over her, a full-on wave of emotional and physical response to him that made her gut clench. "Stop."

He cocked his brow. "Stop what?"

"That." She waved her hand at his pushy stance. "Being so close to me. Being in my space."

"Why?" He was relentless in his questions, and she started feeling the pressure from his closeness. No longer did he feel like a comfortable cocoon of safety. He felt like a threat.

"Why?" She challenged him by meeting his gaze, refusing to allow herself to be intimidated. "I have a question for you. Why did you stop when we were about to make love?"

Guilt flashed over his face. "Why? Were you offended?"

"No. It was a relief. I just… I've just never been in a position where a man has gotten that close and stopped. I don't understand."

He turned toward her then, giving her his full attention. "It's the fire god, isn't it? He's the one. What did he do to you? Were you his slave? Were you his captive?"

His questions hammered at her, forcing her into memories she didn't want to face. She shook her head vigorously and held up her hand, palm out, denying him access. "Just stop —"

"No. We both need you to be able to function in order for us to still be alive by the end of the day tomorrow. What's going on with you? What are you so afraid of? What did the fire god do to you? What hold does he have over you?" He grasped her upper arms gently, turning her so she was facing him. "I already told you that I failed to keep my sister and her kids alive. That's how I got you to trust me. It's your turn. Tell me what's going on. Tell me everything."

Anger rushed through her. Anger that José could still make her so scared that she couldn't connect with her plants unless Zach was almost making love to her, and anger at Zach for shoving his face in her business. "Fine! You want to know what's going on? I'll tell you. I was born in this jungle, for the sole purpose of protecting the jungle from José and his crew. I'm part of an ancient tribe assigned with the task of keeping this jungle safe. José is just the latest enemy in a centuries-long battle to preserve our home."

Zach's eyes narrowed, and he nodded. "I figured it was something like that," he said. "You're too much of a warrior and too familiar with the jungle for it to be anything but that. So José wants to kill you because you're the last thing standing in the way of his ownership of the jungle?"

"Yes, I'm the last one left of my tribe. I was the chosen one. I was the one that was supposed to have the power to stop him. The seers had projected my coming for centuries." Bitterly she held out her hand and showed him her palm. The only non-tattooed spot on her arm showed a seven-pointed black star on her skin. Nothing had ever stuck to it. Nothing she'd done had ever been able to hide it. The tattoo needles that had covered José's brands had been useless against that black star. "This was my gift, and my burden. The infant born with the seven-pointed star would save the jungle. That was me. I spent my entire childhood learning how to fight and be the best warrior ever. When I turned sixteen, I went out to find him."

God, she remembered that day. She remembered the celebration with all the women in her tribe who had gathered to honor her. They'd come from thousands of miles away, even from other countries, those who had left the jungle had come back to bid her good fortune on her quest. "I thought it was so great," she said softly. "I thought my legacy would give me strength that I didn't have to find on my own. I had my dagger. I had my bow. I had my quiver. On my way there, I actually had the jungle dancing around me. I thought I was unstoppable." She could recall with vivid clarity the strength that had been surging through her body on that day. She had been so excited to fulfill the mission that she'd been born with, the one that her mother and the tribe had been training her for since the moment of her birth.

Zach's grip on her arms softened, and he leaned forward, watching her intently. "I was once like that too," he said. "I thought I was the king of the world. No one could stop me. "

She looked at him then, right into his dark eyes. She saw in them an understanding she hadn't expected. For the last fifteen years, she'd looked back at her sixteen-year-old self, and wondered if it would have turned out differently if she hadn't been so arrogant. She had expected condemnation from Zach, and she hadn't softened the retelling in order to avoid it. Yet, as he watched her, she saw only understanding and compassion.

"What happened? Were you unprepared for his strength?" Zach asked.

"No." She met his gaze, suddenly wanting to tell him, this heroic stranger, about the fatal flaw that had doomed her. The one thing she hadn't been prepared for, the one thing that had swept her off her feet in a whirlwind, until it had become too late to stop. "I was unprepared for the fact that I was his
sheva
."

His
sheva?

Zach froze at Rhiannon's confession. The implications of what she'd just revealed were staggering. She was the soul mate of the warrior he needed to kill. Jesus.
She was another man's woman.

He immediately released her, dark emotions cascading through him. Intense fury and possessiveness roared through him. He was consumed by a need to rip apart her bond with another man, and he felt like he was drowning in an almost insurmountable sense of loss, as if he were plummeting through the air into a yawning canyon that would never end.

And it wasn't just any other man, it was the one he was hunting. Jesus. Was she leading him into a trap? "So you love him?" Shit. That was the question he asked? But even as it hung in the air, he knew it was a stupid question. Of course she did. The
sheva
bond allowed for nothing else. She fucking loved this prick, which meant that he couldn't trust her. Not even for a second. "Why the hell isn't he protecting you from all this crap that's chasing you?"

"Protecting me?" Her eyes widened, and bitter revulsion darkened her face. "You want to know if I love him?
Love him?
How can you ask that? Do you have any idea what it's like to be some man's
sheva
?"

He hesitated at the sudden venom in her voice, at the depths of her anger and bitterness. Her emotions were stark and raw, and he knew they were real. What was going on? How could she sound like that when talking about the man she was meant to be with? "No," he said carefully, now uncertain as to what he was dealing with. "I've never been another man's
sheva.
" He'd seen enough of it though. He knew that the connection was unshakeable…until the rogue took over the male. But when the rogue took over, that only affected the male. The female's bond with him was so strong that after she killed her mate to stop him, she always wound up killing herself because she couldn't live without him.

"Well, then, let me enlighten you," she snapped. "The day José took me, I thought my world would stop if he didn't kiss me, touch me, and take me into his arms forever."

Something hardened in Zach's stomach. Something so hard it hurt. Yeah, he didn't want her, he didn't need her, but every word she spoke about herself with her mate felt like she had taken her dagger and jammed it right into his flesh, twisting it with every syllable that she uttered. "Yeah. I know all about the physical need between a
sheva
and her mate." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, and he lunged to his feet, needing space between them.

"Do you?" Her hard-edged voice followed him across the clearing. "Do you really know what it's like to be unable to resist a man who you know is so evil that he makes your skin crawl? Do you know what it's like to try to run away from him, only to be stopped by the mere sound of his voice calling you back? Do you have any idea what it's like to hate a man so deeply, recoil from his touch, and be disgusted at the thought of him making love to you, but to be completely unable to make yourself stop him? Your body betrays you. You become the victim of an unstoppable, amoral lust that drives you into the arms of a man who is so despicable that you would have killed him a dozen times over and happily burned in hell, just for the chance to cleanse the earth of his presence. You know he's that awful, and you hate him that much, and yet you can't stop yourself from opening your legs every time he comes near you. Do you know what that's like, Zach? Do you really? Because it's hell."

Zach spun around to face her, stunned by the depths of torment in her voice. She wasn't faking it. She hated her mate…and yet couldn't stop herself from responding physically to him. He stared at her, and he didn't see the warrior anymore. He saw a woman, a vulnerable woman who had been victimized by the man who was supposed to protect her. Her dark hair was tumbling out of her bun, her eyes were burning with pain, and her fingers were clenched around her plate so tightly that her fingers were white. He had a sudden vision of her focusing those dark eyes on him, begging him to stop, but being unable to stop him if he chose not to listen to her. What kind of man would do that to a woman? To his mate? Rhiannon wasn't even
his
, and yet the need to protect her was so strong that he'd give his fucking life to keep her safe.

Suddenly the magnitude of what had happened between them earlier weighed heavily upon him. No wonder she had been shocked when he'd stopped, but even more incredible was the fact she'd surrendered to him. She had no reason to trust a man, and yet she'd completely given herself over to him. She'd trusted him so deeply that it was his touch that had given her the strength to connect to her plants again.

Son of a bitch. What she'd given him was extraordinary.

Slowly, he walked back over to her and crouched in front of her. "I've known many Calydons and their
shevas
," he said gruffly, his voice hoarse with emotions he could barely grasp. "I know there's a draw between them, but I thought it was mutual. That they wanted each other." He needed to understand what was happening, what she lived with.

She shook her head. "It's an uncontrollable kind of desire," she said softly. "Not voluntary. I—" She hesitated, her gaze sliding away from his.

"You what?" He asked the question gently, but something inside him was on fire with the need to know. This was so far beyond his comprehension, what she had endured at the hands of her soul mate.

After a long moment, she looked back at him. "It wasn't just the sex. It was more. It was as if he could control me with his will, as if he could infuse his own desires and wants with mine, so that what was inside me became his soul and not mine. My mind was there, and I knew that I hated what was happening, but I couldn't make my body listen to what I wanted, and I couldn't turn off the desire that he stoked in me." She shrugged, a gesture of complete helplessness. "I couldn't stop it. He liked to watch me have sex with his warriors. He liked the fact that I hated it, but he could make me do it anyway."

A deep, visceral sense of betrayal settled deep in Zach's gut. "That's not how it's supposed to be. A Calydon protects his mate. He insures her well-being. He claims her as his own, and he would never be able to handle watching her with someone else."