Protector of the Flame (27 page)

“Your flames shall burn as one forever.
Give me
two minutes.”

The request twisted into some strange order. An order that should’ve licked her ire, but she was befuddled to refuse. He wouldn’t touch her. He’d sworn.

No harm could come from giving him but a moment.

“Two minutes.” She closed her eyes.

“Be still,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear, “and don’t open your eyes. No matter what.”

A quiver of excitement rushed through her.

Deep inhales through his nose, created a chill. Long exhales of moist hot breath kissed her skin.

Her heart quaked and she wondered how much time had elapsed.

Heat from his body curled around her, stirring her core. He traveled across her body, moving from her face and neck, down to her chest.

His breath against her breasts made her nipples harden through her bra and shirt. His warmth glided to her abdomen where he hovered.

He lifted the edge of her tunic, and her heartbeat quickened.
Cyrus
. She exhaled the word, “Stop.”

“
Don’t move
.”

The command whipped at her mind, tangling her thoughts. Some peculiar madness had her locked in its grip. She went rigid, pressing into the wall. She dug her nails into the stone, hoping pain would sober her.

A breeze brushed her exposed stomach, but he didn’t lay a fingertip on her. He kept her shirt low, not venturing to uncover more. Sighing into her flesh, he blew hot breath across her abdomen.

She shuddered, wicked pleasure—perverted yet fierce—rippling inside.

Desire emanated from him, blazing, searing, scorching hot, and heaven help her, part of her wanted to burn.

Longing for the feel of his cheek on her belly, his hands cradling her hips, his lips on any part of her body he wished, she gasped, “Adriel.”

Unnatural tether.
This yearning was intense, crippling, but it wasn’t real. Foreign desire invaded a sacred domain where she worshipped only one, Cyrus.

Powerless to fully claim her voice, she begged in a desperate whisper, “Please…stop.”

She struggled to break free of the dangerous hold he had on her. It was as if the fibers of her essence were being shredded right down the middle, torn in opposite directions. The more she resisted, the more agonizing the torment. Tears leaked from her eyes.

His head lowered to her crotch. Blistering heat followed. His energy stream massaged her quivering pool, probing for acceptance, prodding for penetration.

Trembling, she fought the pernicious bond and denied him. Her body and soul were meant for one man alone, her true love and no other.

The door slammed. Serenity’s eyes flew open in a rush of panic.

Neith stood glaring at them, ghostly eyes almost white, giving her a spectral luminosity.

Serenity’s heart punched at her chest, legs turned to gelatin. Adriel was down on his knees, her shirt clenched in his hands.

He gazed up at her like a love-starved beast ready to devour her. That look arrested her soul, leaving her utterly lost.

Averting his eyes, he stood. “Forgive me, I went too far.”

His chest rose and fell in a labored manner as though he were having difficulty breathing. He went to the railing, facing away for several horrendous heartbeats. Finally, he turned to Neith, composure regained. “I need to go back to the mainland.”

Serenity stared at him, still shuddering. He had just gotten back and as much as it bedeviled her she didn’t want him to leave. But after this episode, she needed him to go for both their sakes.

“I think Nikos and I will take the boat this time.”

That meant five days minimum he’d be away.

He strode to Neith and whispered in her ear. The ancient beauty’s gaze pierced Serenity as Adriel spoke in a hushed tone.

“Tell Nikos to make haste,” Neith replied. “You may leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Without a glance in Serenity’s direction, he walked out of the office.

Neith held the penetrating gaze. “To draw you need your sketchpad. You may retrieve it from the safe yourself.”

Serenity swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t know the code.”

“It is the year and day of your birth.” Neith floated closer, carried on an eerie wind.

Serenity recoiled.

“You have no idea how important you are. You and Cyrus are the best chance for ending the nightmare of the curse and ushering in a new era.” Neith caressed her cheek with the back of a cold hand. “You are in the safest place on the planet and still you pursue danger, chasing it as if you had a thirst for death. Tread with more care or it may be quenched.”

It was a warning, not a threat. And after Adriel’s two minutes, she needed it.

“May your sketching prove more successful this time. You are to remain here until I return.” Neith waltzed out of the office, closing the door.

Riddled with shame, she pressed her head to the stone wall. She stood there for the longest time, despising herself. How could she allow him to…to what? He hadn’t even touched her, but what had transpired between them was every shade of wrong and it sickened her.

When the shaking finally left her, she went to the safe, entered her birthdate and it opened. Only her sketchbook was inside.

She sat on a settee and opened her pad but couldn’t draw Neith. One image filled her thoughts, making her core flutter and mind reel: Adriel down on his knees, looking up at her, lust setting him aflame.

She sketched him—rapacious eyes, parted lips, tongue grazing his teeth, hands clenched in restraint. She yanked the sketch from the pad and wished there was a fireplace where she could turn the evidence of her betrayal to ash. Instead, she tore it up into tiny pieces, so small it could never be made whole again, carried the shreds to the railing and opened her hands.

A breeze carried some of the evidence away. As the rest drifted down into the garden, she pushed that image of Adriel from her mind for good.

When Neith returned, Serenity stood, feeling like a prisoner about to be executed.

The ancient beauty shut the door. “Adriel confessed what he did to you.”

No need for a confession. Everything had been obvious and he wasn’t the only one at fault.

“He has the ability to manipulate his secondary gift once someone has been touched by it,” Neith continued. “I should have warned you, prepared you, but this…”

Serenity braced for what Neith hesitated to say. A sinking feeling made her stomach flip-flop and she thought she might puke.

“You are both vulnerable to this link, for you have become his weakness. Around you he is defenseless and not in full control of his own gift.” An inkling of worry flitted across the ancient beauty’s normally smooth brow.

“In the future, refrain from being alone with Adriel. If he ever gives you a command you are reluctant to follow, you must focus on the one true thing in your heart that you know to be real without a shadow of doubt, and then you must resist him despite the pain it will cause you. It has taken me decades of practice to learn how to do this effectively, but you must try lest this bond wreak havoc you cannot contain.”

If there had been a trash can nearby, she definitely would have hurled. This tether to Adriel just kept getting worse. It was twisted and ruthless and more powerful than any of them dared to conceive.

She ought to fear him and what he could do, but there was no fear where there should’ve been.

Neith glided to her, face impassive. “What happened earlier, never happened. Do you understand?”

Easy enough, she had already decided the same. “Yes.”

“I’ve given Cyrus the rest of the day off and tomorrow to spend with you.”

Bewildered, she was almost afraid to ask. “Why?”

“Would you prefer to spend the time with me while he toils away in the laundry hut?”

“Of course not.”

“Then the proper response should be ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Serenity’s stomach ached, disquietude gnawing at her insides as she went to the dormitory level. She opened the door to her room to find Cyrus sitting in the middle of the bed.

Towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp from a shower, hands behind his head, he leaned against the wall. “The laundry hut is the pit of hell. I don’t know what you said or did to make Neith give us two days off, but if you hop in bed I’ll show you my gratitude.”

Tugging on a smile, she undressed. The refuge of their joined energy streams brought immediate satisfaction, but it wasn’t enough to purge the shame. She crawled onto the bed between his long, finely muscled legs and pulled the towel off. Nothing could erase what she’d just allowed to happen with Adriel from her conscience, but she opened herself to the delicious wave of desire that always flowed when near Cyrus.

Her
kabashem
was the most perfect male. His hard, chiseled body was built for sex and killing. Those massive hands could crush a man and had or dampen the most intimate place between her legs, making her slick with need. Blue-black eyes gleamed with a fiery passion that threatened to consume her and she wanted to be entirely possessed by him and him alone.

She ran her hands up his sculpted thighs to the anchor of his hips. His cock stiffened. She brushed her long curls across the shaft, lowering her head, and then took him into her mouth.

He groaned. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be showing gratitude.”

Taking him deeper, his swollen crown tickling the back of her throat, she buried her anxiety. She sucked the thickness of him, massaging the shaft with her tongue, again and again as if an act of penance. A sweet tightness built in his heavy balls. He was close to the brink.

Cyrus broke her hold and pushed her down on the bed.

She splayed her thighs, rocking her hips up in invitation. He slipped into her wet heat, his touch holding sway like the tide.

She longed to lose herself in the savage beauty of him, his earthy, pure scent, in the wild masculine heat that could melt every inch of her.

Lingering guilt faded in the sweaty bliss of his hard chest pressed to her aching breasts, muscular arms wrapping her in a cocoon, the slick friction of their thighs, mouths crushed together, tongues lost in a dance of delight.

She succumbed to the fancy of his pleasure, yielding to his every need and whim until she passed out from exhaustion.

A knock at the door woke them. The sun had already fallen. The room was cast in a soft light of early evening. Cyrus went to the door without bothering to dress.

“Neith wanted to ensure you didn’t miss the evening meal and enjoyed your respite with no worry,” Mira said.

“Thank you.” Cyrus took something from her and closed the door.

He returned to bed, carrying a bamboo tray filled with food and a pitcher of wine.

“This is too generous for Neith.” He set the tray down. “What did you say to her?”

Serenity lowered her gaze and picked up a piece of crab. “I don’t know what she’s up to. We should enjoy it. We only have one more day.”

His brow furrowed in contemplation as he ate, but he didn’t speak of it again. Not even when they were treated to room service the following morning and evening.

When the day came for things to return to Neith’s sense of normal, Cyrus whistled as he dressed. Their love fest had been heaven, ecstasy she didn’t deserve after such reckless behavior.

By dinner, his elation had been sapped and they fell back into a routine.

Days rolled from one to the next. At breakfast she listened to Cyrus grumble about his work detail, then studied Latin in the office. She spent hours sketching, failing to capture Neith’s soul. Enraptured in her
kabashem’s
arms, the nights flew on the wings of pleasure.

Everything was normal. The sky was a cloudless azure in the day, the weather temperate and sunny. Far from the glaring lights of a city, stars shined bright as diamonds in the evening.

But something was missing, as if Adriel had stolen the wind.

After breakfast she kissed Cyrus and wished him well on his next detail at the orchard. As she ascended the walkway, passing the second level up to the library, someone grabbed her from behind in an ineffectual chokehold.

She jammed her elbow backward on pure instinct, stepped behind whoever it was and flipped her assailant.

Adriel hit the floor in a thud.

Sunshine burst in her chest.

A smile broke on a face so resplendent his pick of human women would’ve fallen at his feet. Laughter bubbled from him as he stood. She’d forgotten how much she loved the angelic sound.

“Shouldn’t grab people from behind.” She hit his arms and chest playfully. “You were gone a long time.” Almost two weeks.

“Well, if this is the greeting I get, perhaps next time I won’t return.” Ah, the accent was back.

The light of his flame radiated through his smile, giving his face a heavenly glow. Just that fast, at the mere sight of him, she’d forgotten that her instincts where he was concerned were ruled by a force she didn’t fully understand. She regained her bearings, gave him a real punch to the stomach, causing him to double over, and went back to the library.