Melody never took her eyes off Jovan. Watching him fight, she found herself overwhelmed with confusion and fear. He was fast and fierce, moving like he’d been born for combat. She gasped as a glancing strike from his opponent’s sword opened a wide, bloody cut across Jovan’s chest.
Kaeliph!
Kaeliph smiled at her, shaking his head. “He’s not hurt bad, Melody. I’ve seen him cut worse from a fishhook— he didn’t even notice. Don’t worry, he’s fine.”
Melody was not so certain. But … I don’t understand. Why?
Kaeliph looked at her, noticing for the first time how ill she looked. “Why? Why not?”
It’s … it’s … She couldn’t even think of the words.
“It’s money, Melody.” Kaeliph didn’t want to be unkind, but her aversion to blood and violence didn’t help them. “He likes fighting, and he’s damn good at it.” He lowered his voice. “And the reward for him winning this thing will keep us all out of the Duke’s sight for a very long time.”
The Duke?
“Korith.” Kaeliph said. “He is why using magic can get you killed. He’s also why Jovan and I are on the run. Pray you never meet him.”
From a distance, Garen watched Jovan’s fight while drinking another mug of the cheap ale. Despite this afternoon’s setback, he was certain that Melody would be his by morning. As Garen continued to watch, Jovan disarmed his latest opponent, kicking the other man’s feet out from under him. The fallen man was pinned in an instant— Jovan’s boot in his gut, Jovan’s sword at his throat. The man yielded, and the crowd cheered wildly.
Garen frowned into his mug. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Jovan was skilled. He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully, deciding to err on the side of caution. He would send both of the twins to deal with this particular problem. When Kallisti did as he had instructed, that would leave Melody alone for just long enough.
The fights lasted until after dusk, and smoke from countless torches stung Melody’s eyes. The sky was blue-black and filled with clouds that would not give up their rain. The silent lightning that flickered among them made an impressive finish to the day. Both brothers had made the cut to the next day’s lists.
Kallisti was waiting for them just outside the gate, and cooed sympathetically over Kaeliph’s single negligible wound. He flashed his brother and Melody a sheepish grin as she hurried him off to her father’s caravan to see to the scratch, ignoring Jovan’s rolled eyes.
“Are you hungry?”
Melody shook her head. All she could smell was blood. How can I be?
Jovan cocked his head, half a smile starting at the corner of his lip. “You never eat. How can you not be?”
Melody wrapped her arms around her stomach in that way she had when she was feeling sick or overwhelmed. Jovan reached to comfort her, and as she had earlier, she pulled away. He didn’t like it.
How can you do it? She asked, and Jovan knew she was not referring to eating.
“Melody…”
Kaeliph said you … you like it.
Jovan moved in front of her, stopping them. He put his hands on her shoulders as gently as he could. She was trembling.
“I do what I’m good at, Melody.” He could still feel her fear, it was as clear to him now as it had been back in the Haven. Violence simply terrified her. “Every one of them comes to that pit knowing exactly what they’re doing.”
You hurt people.
“Not you, Melody.” He had said it before, and suspected this wouldn’t be the last time. She stared at him with liquid red-gold eyes, silent, but she was hearing him. “I swear it.” He knew that through the connection they shared, she could feel his sincerity. “Never you.”
She took a deep breath, and he could feel her relaxing, if only slightly.
They walked back to the Inn together with his hand settled comfortably in the small of her back. He could sense that her fear of him was gone, at least for now. It was enough. He barely acknowledged the drunken accolades to his success when they entered the Inn. He needed to keep Melody calm and the common room was not the place to do it. Neither of them saw Garen at the bar, watching them intently over another mug of ale.
Melody lit the thick stump of candle on the small bedside table as Jovan shut the door, still silent. She turned to face him. He looked older, somehow, exhaustion and worry practically carved into his face. Melody began to hum, barely audible at first but slowly gaining strength. Jovan opened his mouth to protest when the magic surrounded them, but Melody stepped closer and pressed a finger to his lips. Jovan hushed.
Once their skin touched, it was nearly impossible to break away. Melody let her finger trail over his lips, bringing her thumb up to feel the scratchy growth on his chin. She cupped her palm around his cheek, letting her song close the cut there, and then traced the slope of his neck with her fingertips, lingering over the pulse point before dropping her hand to the cut on his chest.
Almost of its own accord, her other hand joined the first on the bare skin of his broad chest and massaged the music into the wide, shallow wound. It was like no healing she had ever done, and the intimacy of it surprised them both.
Instinctively, Melody’s hands drifted apart and caressed the aching tightness out of the muscles in his arms, stroking down over his elbows to his wrists, and across again to the hard, flat plane of his stomach. Her quiet song set aside the anxiety he felt, absorbed his worry, and dissolved his exhaustion.
She sank to her knees as her hands stroked still lower, apart again and down each muscle-bound thigh, where her fingers found another cut under a tear in the leather of his trousers. She sang it closed, acutely aware of every sensation in him. She could feel the heat from the hot, hard center of him, and curiosity overwhelmed her shyness … she brought her hands to it.
Jovan could barely breathe. Her scent, her nearness – it was intoxicating. From the moment she had touched his lips, the same fierce closeness he had felt the night before had washed over him, and it was all he could do to remain still when she knelt before him. When her trembling hands brought the healing energy to the center of his desire, Jovan’s self-control abandoned him. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her up against him, bending into her and stealing her song with a deep, lingering exploration of her mouth.
The new silence did not alter the connection in the least. Her arms wound around his neck, and he felt renewed. She continued to heal his body even without the music. Jovan tightened his embrace, hungry, and let out a low groan when Melody found her senses enough to return the kiss. He pulled her onto him as he sat on the small cot – giving silent thanks that it had been close when his knees had faltered with the raw desire between them.
Melody caught her breath when Jovan pulled free the binding at the end of her braid, and she contented herself with tasting the salty warmth of his neck while he freed her endless curls. It was as if she couldn’t be close enough to him. Wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders was like embracing a warm, responsive boulder. A pleasant flush of heat low in her belly grew. Her fingers found and tugged at the knotted leather keeping his hair secure. She clung to him for stability when they next kissed, and then his hair was spilling over the heat of her hands like rain.
“Melody …” Jovan breathed the word, needing nothing else. He knew she could feel his hunger for her, as surely as he felt her own nameless longing for whatever came next. She moved restlessly in his lap, boldly insisting by example that he keep kissing her. He shivered, reminding himself that she had no idea what she was doing to him with her eagerness.
He forced himself to go slowly. His hands slipped from her waist up to her back, tugging at the laces now hidden under the blanket of her hair. Melody, breathless, released his shoulders to lend her own fingers to the task, and between the two of them it took next to no time until her dress lay on the floor at Jovan’s feet.
She was magnificent. Jovan tore his mouth away from hers and leaned back on the bed so he could just look at her there, perc
hed on his knees with her pink cheeks and hypnotic eyes framed by the night black spill of her hair. His hands wandered over her skin, wanting to know every inch of her the way she had felt him. He took his time tracing the swell of her breasts and the lean slope of her belly, over the gentle arc of her hip and back around to the lovely curve of her bottom.
There was not a shred of shyness in her. She did not try to turn from his examination at all – rather, Melody arched into his touch with her eyes closing in a delight he could feel in his own skin. He shuddered, and pulled her back down to him, rolling until she was fully on the cot and he was draped over her like a blanket.
He wanted it to be perfect. He knew with her every breath against him that she had never done anything like this before, but her suddenly bold curiosity was driving him wild. His trousers joined her dress on the floor, and he settled his mouth over hers once more, needing to taste her sweetness again and again.
She gasped when he brought his hand up to caress her breast, and he could feel the sensations that flooded through her – they joined with the delirious arousal of his own body. Jovan fought to control his desire. He touched and stroked and kissed and caressed until Melody was as breathlessly urgent as he was, and her hands were tugging at him, pulling him closer, surrendering completely to this strange new intimacy.
Loving Melody was like nothing he had ever felt, and Jovan felt his head spin as she discovered the feelings for the first time – the initial sharp pain replaced almost immediately by restless pleasure, the nearly claustrophobic intimacy that somehow wasn’t close enough, and the terrifying building of sensation like a wave that never made it to shore.
He held back, letting her ride that wave, and when her eyes flew open in a flash of delighted panic, he was right there with her. He captured her mouth and held her right at the crest of the feeling for as long as he could before she finally surrendered, clinging to him and giving herself over to it entirely.
“Oh, yes!” The power in her voice combined with the immediately shared hugeness of her experience undid him entirely, and he could control himself no longer. Jovan followed her down the other side of that wave with a low groan of release, seeking out her mouth again when they met at the bottom.
Melody shifted to one side to allow Jovan to lay down without crushing her, although she didn’t think she would mind if he did. She felt inexplicably full, overflowing, and she couldn’t decide if she needed to laugh or cry. The indecision was sheer loveliness. His arm slipped under her head and she instinctively curled around his body, simply soaking up his heat and letting the enormity of it all become more manageable.
Jovan wrapped his arm around her, immensely satisfied. He loved the way she pressed up against him like she couldn’t get close enough to him, how he could feel both of their hearts beating at the same time. After a long time spent simply inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, Jovan dropped his other arm over the side of the bed, rummaging quietly for his pack. He found the pouch he sought and managed to open it with one hand, cupping the silver and amber pendant in his palm.
“Melody …” She twisted and blinked up at him, her eyes almost completely gold in the flickering candlelight. He couldn’t help but kiss her again, lingering over her soft lips. “I want you to have this.”
He placed the pendant, now warm, on the skin of her belly, and she reached for it curiously. He realized as he watched her glow with guileless appreciation that he had never given such a gift before. But then, he had never felt like this before, either.
It’s lovely! She sat up and impatiently tried to sweep her hair out of the way so she could put it over her head, but the stubborn mass was too much for her. Jovan smiled. Trying not to be distracted by her gloriously naked body, he took the pendant from her. Together they managed to slip it over her head without the chain catching in her mass of curls, and she sat back proudly so Jovan could see.
“Perfect.” The amber glowed the same shade of honey-gold as her eyes, and lay against her pale skin just above the swell of her breasts in a quiet shimmer of silver. Jovan thought he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life, and had to pull her back down for another kiss. Melody offered no protest, she was completely willing to give herself to him again, but he made himself stop. She would be sore, he knew, and he didn’t want to risk hurting her.
I’m thirsty. She ran her satiny tongue up the side of his neck and caught his earlobe in her lips, making him groan low in his throat. You taste like salt.
“The basin is empty,” he whispered, seeking out her ear to show her what she was doing to him. Melody trembled and pressed back up against him, clearly hungry for more, but he shook his head, denying her. “I should go get some water.”
She drew back and stretched, arching her back and raising her arms above her head. Jovan nearly lost his resolve to let her recover.
Let me, you’re tired. She bent to retrieve her dress, and Jovan stretched as well – she was right, he was exhausted. She had healed the damage to his body, but whatever burst of energy she had given him was fading fast.
“You’ll be all right?”
Yes. She smiled at him, skinning into her dress and not bothering with laces or shoes. Her hair hung past her waist, curly enough to not look tousled after their love.
“You’re beautiful.”
She blushed, not knowing how to respond, but her eyes said it all. I’ll hurry.
Melody took the pitcher from the bedside table and padded silently out the door. Jovan watched her go, more content and peaceful than he had been in a long time.
The common room of the Inn was practically deserted, but Melody barely noticed. She felt as if she was floating. She smiled as she handed the pitcher to the barkeep.
Garen finished his latest ale, watching her from the other end of the long counter, his anger mounting. He was too late. No, he thought, there was no such thing as too late, but there would be no more delay.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said in a firm voice, standing up and striding towards her. He felt the world lurch a little under his feet, and recognized that he was drunk. Melody turned to him, surprised and a little afraid. The moment she met his eyes, Garen pushed. He hadn’t intended to use this kind of push, not yet – the danger of him coming under its influence was too great. The simple push had changed, though, with the ale, with his own barely restrained lust, and with whatever she had been doing upstairs.
Melody felt as if she had been thrown across the room, but her body remained right where it had been standing. It was Tambor, the man from the fights this afternoon. Why had she thought he had no aura? He was practically shining with the blue now, and cold, watery fear flooded her whole body.
She reached for Jovan, but something was wrong – terribly wrong. She couldn’t extend herself, she couldn’t do anything. Her mind was a prison, and now her body was walking towards him. Melody desperately fought to reclaim control. She panicked when she found herself in his embrace, unable to stop herself. This was impossible!
“It’s time to go, my love.” Garen’s desire practically overwhelmed him, but he continued to push, perhaps more forcefully than required. He couldn’t afford any mistakes. He needed to keep her powers under his control until he could get her away from this place.
Melody screamed at herself to stop, to get away, to run back upstairs or just run anywhere, but her body was not her own. She saw him kiss her. She felt him put his arm around her waist possessively. And she watched herself walk out with him.
29
Garen had intended to take his time, to enjoy the charms of his helpless catch at his leisure in the basement of the nearby stable. He’d prepared it earlier for just this occasion— too many eyes were on Ving's keep, he would not risk word of his involvement with Melody reaching Korith’s ears. As hard as he had been forced to push Melody, however, even he was powerless to resist the riptide that caught up to him as he ushered her down to the tiny candlelit room.
There was no seduction,
no persuasion— when the wave came back to him, Garen took her without thought or restraint.
He thrust her up against the rough wall at the bottom of the stairs, his hands clutching and pulling at her clothes, her hair. He growled into her neck, biting at her skin, wanting to taste her. Melody could only watch, horrified, as he pulled her away from the wall and jerked her dress free of her body, spinning her around and throwing her down on the single, simple cot. There was nothing she could do. Whatever he had done to her mind had taken her every defense— save one. Melody passed out. Garen didn’t seem to notice.
When next she woke, the man was seated on the end of the cot with his head in his hands. He didn’t seem to see her. She closed her eyes again immediately, and reached out for Jovan. As before, something was preventing her, blocking every effort. She tested her muscles, squirming without moving. She learned two things: she was utterly naked, and her wrists were so tightly bound that her hands were cold and numb. Beyond that, though, she hurt – she hurt in places she didn’t know could ache so deeply.
She wanted to cry, but more, she wanted to be free. He was so close, but her feet were unbound. Dangers of magic or no, she had to do something. If she spoke, if she could focus and use the power that lashed out with her voice, it may startle him enough to give her time to run.
The problem with that, she soon realized, was the presence of something tight and uncomfortable around her neck. When she swallowed, two hard lumps pressed into her throat. Inexplicably; she could taste their magic, greasy and thick. She tried not to choke, or panic. It was this that was blocking her magic, she could sense that without doubt. But how?
She mentally probed at the hard, pressing knobs, but as soon as she touched them with the power, a high screeching whine in her head made her gasp and recoil, her eyes flying open in pain.
Garen felt her spasm at the feedback spell and smiled; the hours he had spent enchanting the gems were well spent. As was the exorbitant amount he had paid the talented Master Jasper. The collar was a work of art, he thought. Jasper had exceeded all of his expectations. The delicate vine pattern tooled into the leather was a perfect contrast to the thick steel ring that lay in the hollow of her neck. The gems layered within the leather were impossible to detect.
Awaken Page 21
