Goddess of the Rose (35 page)

“Anything,” he rasped.

“Unsheathe your claws and get this thing off me.”

With a movement catlike in its grace, he silently extended the daggers from his fingers. Quickly and easily, he sliced through the material at her shoulder. She shrugged and the chiton fell from her body. His dark eyes gazed at her. He lifted a hand to touch her breast and then jerked it back when the still extended claw met her soft flesh. Mikki caught his wrist.

“Your control is so great that you can create beautiful art with these claws. Use that same control to touch me with them. Let me feel your power against my skin.” Unflinching, she pressed his hand against her breast.

Hesitantly, he let the sharp points graze the creamy smoothness of her skin as his hand moved from her breast to her stomach and slid slowly . . . slowly . . . over the wet, hot core of her. Mikki sucked in her breath and shivered.

“Don't stop,” she moaned.

His eyes never left her face as his claws trailed down her thighs and then around to rake softly over the voluptuous swell of her ass.

“Turn around. I want to see your back,” he said, his deep voice rough with desire.

Mikki turned. She felt his lips replace claws as he kissed the raised pink lines he had left on her back.

“I thought I had ripped through your skin.” His breath was hot against her skin.

“Of course you didn't. They're just scratches.”

His lips moved to the small of her back, and his tongue tasted her. “I didn't think I would ever touch you again.”

She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck as he licked and teased her nipples.

“Don't ever stop touching me, Asterius.”

She sank down to the pallet, pulling him with her. He knelt beside her. Sheathing his claws, he touched her face gently. “I could not stop now, Mikado, even if Hecate herself appeared and commanded it.”

“Shh.” She pressed a finger against his lips. “I don't want to think about anything else except you.” Slowly, she lifted her hand until the same finger that had pressed against his lips traced the smooth line of one dark horn. “You are amazing. I don't ever think I'll get enough of touching you.”

“Mikado, you are a rare and unexpected gift.” His deep voice trembled with the depth of his emotions. “I have never known the love of a woman—never, in all the eons of my existence, has a woman touched me, accepted me, loved me . . .” He had to pause before he could continue. “I will love you for as long as there is breath in my body, and beyond, if the Fates and our goddess will it.”

“Come to me, Asterius. Show me the power of your love,” she beckoned.

He worshipped her with his mouth and hands. He drank in her body as if he would never get enough of it. He explored her and, with the superhuman senses of a beast, he read the flushes and changes in her body, learning what brought her the most pleasure. And then, when he thought he could never know anything sweeter than watching the passion he had built within her, she pressed him to the pallet and began her own exploration. When her tongue teased him and she whispered against his skin that the hard length of his body was magnificent and how much she desired him, Asterius thought he would die of such exquisite pleasure.

“I need to feel you inside me.”

Mikki opened herself to him. He trembled with the effort of controlling himself as she wrapped her legs around him and arched against him. Blood rushed painfully through his body, and the roar of the beast filled his mind. The beast wanted to pound violently into her, to bury his aching hardness in her wet heat. He clenched his teeth, sliding carefully in and out of her, trying to focus on her soft sounds of pleasure through the tumult in his mind. And then he realized that she was meeting his gentle thrusts with a fierceness that blazed in her eyes. When he bent to kiss her, she bit his lip. He growled. She smiled.

“Let the beast loose. I want him,” she said in a deep, sultry voice.

Her words ignited a flame of lust within him that he was afraid would consume them both. Unable to fight against the combined force of her desire and the power of the beast, Asterius grabbed her ass and lifted her up to meet him as he impaled himself within her, over and over again. Mikado didn't shrink from him. She answered his passion with a strength that was goddess-touched. The beast and the priestess blazed together, until finally the man within could no longer stop the raging force and he poured a lifetime of need into her as beast and man together roared her name.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

H
E couldn't stop looking at Mikado. She was asleep, her naked body pressed against him. She was using his arm to cushion her head. One of her long, smooth legs was thrown intimately over his inhuman one. Her hand lay limply on his chest. He drew a deep breath, letting her scent imprint upon his senses.

He'd never imagined this. Even when he'd wildly hoped that the other Empousa might care for him . . . love him . . . he'd only thought about the sweet softness of her hands touching him. It was only in his dreams that he'd allowed himself to imagine making love to a mortal woman. But his dreams never came true. Until now. Until Mikado. When he had touched her and realized that the pain of the goddess's spell had been lifted, and what that meant, she had spun reality into his dreams, and in doing so had healed the wound of loneliness that had been festering within him for an eternity.

What was he going to do? She had saved him. Could he do any less for her?

If he did not sacrifice her, the realm would die. It might not happen immediately. Hecate might find another Empousa, but irrevocable damage would already have been done. The betrayal of one Empousa had caused sickness in a realm that had never before known blight or pestilence or illness of any kind. Those things did not belong in Hecate's realm of dreams and magick. But betrayal and abandonment had caused the barrier to weaken. Asterius was certain that only Mikado's swift action had prevented further disaster.

So he must choose between destroying his dream or destroying the dreams of mankind.

It was really no choice at all. Only a beast could choose himself over mankind. He felt the agony of what he must do press against him like a flaming spear thrust into his entrails.

“I can feel you watching me,” Mikki said. Sleepily, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “Don't you ever sleep?”

“I would rather gaze at you.” He brushed back a thick strand of hair from her face.

“I should have guessed that you'd be a romantic when you put the rose in my wine.”

“That is not romantic; it is civilized.” He tempered the gruffness of his voice with a slight smile and caressed the graceful slope of her neck and shoulder, smiling again when she sighed happily and stretched like a contented feline.

“Don't burst my bubble. I prefer to think of it as romance.”

“Then, for you, I will call it romance, too.” Slowly, with a sweet hesitance and innocence that were at direct odds with the fierceness of his body, he bent and gently kissed her lips. “When you came to me today, you offered me more than your body and your love. You offered acceptance. And that is something I never imagined knowing the joy of.”

She took his hand and threaded her fingers with his. “That's something you and I have in common. In my old world, I didn't feel like I belonged.” She took a deep breath and made the decision. She wanted him to know. She needed him to know. “Hecate explained to me part of the reason I felt so out of place—because I was meant to be her Empousa in this world, that I carry the blood of a High Priestess in my veins. But there's another reason. It's why I never let anyone, especially any man, get too close to me. It has to do with my blood, too.” She studied his dark eyes, silently pleading with him to understand. “The women of my family are tied to roses through their blood. If we feed roses water mixed with our blood, they grow. Always—incredibly. In the mundane world, what I could do was unheard of—outside of the women in my family, no one would understand. It made me feel like I was a freak. I had to hide my secret.” Worried by how still and pale he had suddenly become, she felt herself shrinking inside. “I wish you'd say something. I've never told anyone else.” When he still didn't speak, she started to move away from him, but with a low growl, he pulled her fiercely into the protection of his arms.

“You did not feel accepted there because it was your destiny to be Hecate's Empousa—to come here and to save the roses and their lonely Guardian. The blood that runs through your veins is this realm's life force, and it is your love that sustains us.” He closed his eyes and buried his head in her hair, willing himself not to tremble . . . willing himself not to think . . .

Mikki relaxed and fitted herself more comfortably against him. “It still amazes me. If the exact sequence of events hadn't happened, I wouldn't be here.” She leaned back in his arms so she could look into his face and wondered, briefly, about why he still looked so pale. “You know, it was my blood that woke you up.”

“I did not know.” His voice was gravely. “I just know you roused me and that I could smell your scent and knew you were Hecate's Empousa.”

“Actually, that's one of the weirder aspects of what happened. Just that day an exotic old woman had given me some perfume. On impulse I wore it. As strange as this sounds, it is the same scent I'm wearing now. Gii calls it the Empousa's anointing oil.”

He frowned. “How can that be?”

Mikki shrugged and nestled back against him. “I have no idea, but she was really eccentric. And beautiful, even though she was old. She had the most incredible blue eyes. She was foreign, but I couldn't place her accent. She said she got the perfume . . .” Mikki had to stop and think about what the woman had said. “Somewhere in Greece, if I remember correctly. What I do remember for sure is her name, because, like me, she's named after a rose—Sevillana.”

She felt the jolt of shock jerk through his body. She pulled back to find him staring at her with an unreadable expression on his unnaturally pale face.

“What is it? What's wrong?”

“It—it is . . . nothing. Nothing is wrong. I am only surprised that a woman in the mundane world would carry the anointing oil of Hecate's High Priestess. It is a mystery.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Lie against me. Let me feel your body touching mine.”

Mikado lay on his chest, and as he caressed the long, graceful line of her back, his mind whirled unbelievingly. Sevillana . . . the name had sent shockwaves through his body. It was she! He, too, would always remember the cold beauty of her calculating blue eyes as well as her name. The last Empousa was still alive in the mundane world. How could it be possible? Time moved differently there, he knew that. But at least two hundred of that world's years must have passed. Perhaps the absent Empousa had taken more with her through the crossroads than a vial of anointing oil. Perhaps she'd managed to steal some of the realm's magick.

Then the enormity of the truth sifted through his shock. Sevillana lived! In the spring when an Empousa must be sacrificed for the realm it would be Sevillana and not Mikado who must die. All he need do was to find a way to return the absent Empousa to the Realm of the Rose. It had to be possible. Sevillana had escaped—she could certainly return. He held Mikado more tightly. That was his answer. He would not sacrifice Mikado. He would exchange her for the errant High Priestess, returning Mikado safely to her home in the mundane world. He would still be without her, but Asterius could live with that. He would miss her for all of eternity, but he could bear that. What he could not bear was knowing that it was by his hand she would die. If she left, he would lose his love. If he sacrificed her, he would lose his soul.

He wouldn't sacrifice his love, nor would he lose his soul. He had his answer, and he had the powers of the son of a Titan. He would turn that vast store of magick to achieving his end. But not now. Not tonight. Tonight he would revel in the miracle of Mikado's love, and he would not think about the endless empty dawns to come.

 

 

MIKKI leaned against the smooth entrance to the cave and gazed out at the misty morning while she chewed a piece of bread. Asterius came up behind her, and she leaned comfortably into him.

“Rain,” he said, sounding surprised. “It does not often rain here.”

“I did it. It's what I commanded Water to do when I cast the health and protection spell yesterday. Every fourth morning it's going to rain for a little while. It's good for the roses, and it's good for the realm, too. Rainy mornings are restful—a perfect time to sleep in and rejuvenate the soul.” She turned in his arms. “Unfortunately, I didn't think to tell the handmaidens yesterday that rainy mornings equate to taking the morning off. I imagine the four Elementals are wondering impatiently why I haven't called them to work. And because last night was the first time men could be invited into the realm in a long time, I would bet that at least a couple of them are tired and grumpy while they wait. I should go see to them. What are you going to do?”

“I will do the same thing I do every morning. I will follow the rose wall around the realm to be certain all is secure. Then I will collect more threads for the Dream Weavers.” He caressed the side of her face. “Only this morning I go about my duties with your scent on my skin and the memory of your smile, touch, taste, in my heart.” He smiled. “Some say rain is dark and dreary, but to me this morning is bright and filled with promise.”

“An incurable romantic. Who knew?” Mikki tugged at his cuirasse. “Kiss me so we can be on our way.” She wondered if he would ever lose that look of startled happiness that was reflected on his face when she surprised him with a touch, or, like now, with a kiss. She sincerely hoped not. “Can you take time to eat the midday meal with me?”