by Stacy Reid
The shadows deepened, creeping along the walls and floors of the cave, and then images formed as he entertained her with the dancing shadows. Shilah laughed, thinking how incredible it was that he shaped the shadows to look like people, as he showed her a story of a man and woman walking along a cliff, then dancing under the sky, then making love using shadows alone.
It wasn’t odd to her that they did not speak. There was a level of comfort in the silence and a barely lit cave she’d not thought possible. The shadows brought fruits next, strange, and oddly colored but quite delectable.
Sheila ate and drank wine, and not once did they speak. With a replete sigh, she leaned into him sleepily, feeling secure in the arms that wrapped around her waist.
“Why do you drink my blood?”
“It is a need…a compulsion I cannot fight or deny. Does it repulse you, my mate?”
“No.”
“Good.”
A slow fire started to build in her belly, and she quivered, a soft moan slipping from her. Black chakra curled around her like smoke and then dipped below the surface of the water. Something grasped each of her legs beneath the water and opened them, then slid sinuously up her calf to her knee, a long, slow, very even stroke up to her exposed sex. His chakra glided over her flesh with sublime pressure, pressing in the tender wall of her pussy, and up to her clitoris. She panted, need making her slick with welcome. He was relentless in how he worked her clitoris, the power of his shadows and chakra moving the hood covering that tender bud, rubbing, and squeezing her nub, filling her with bliss. She tried to move out of the caress, the unrelenting stimulation, the aching sensation too much, too brutal, and there was no ease.
She leaned back against his chest with a whimper. One of his hands banded around her waist, slid up to over her belly, through the valley between her breasts, where he lingered, stroking her flesh, tugging her nipples, then up to span her throat. The strength in his touch was unmistakable. Everything about the dark creature behind her spoke to her most primal lustful instincts.
With a simple nudge, her neck arched, exposing her throat. His teeth scraped along her pulse, and the breath left her lungs in a rush. His fangs scraped her flesh, he took a small nip, sending streaks of fire through her veins, making her whimper and moan his name.
“I love feeling you under my hands,” he murmured. “I love these sweet hot little noises you can’t help but make as I break your pussy into my cock.”
She writhed against him, but there was no ease in his sensual assault. She felt a fire swell and grow in her belly as the ache in her clitoris became overwhelming. It built, and her limbs trembled. He spun with her and eased her over the rock, his shadows holding her legs apart as he notched the head of his cock at the needy entrance of her sex.
He waited, and she arched inviting him to burn with her, mindless with the pleasure twisting through her body. His chakra rubbed her sensitive clitoris harder, faster, driving her beyond pleasure. She shattered, and it was then he slammed deep inside her, jerking her to the tip of her toes, her buttocks arching against his body. Whimpering at the unyielding pressure she tried to shift, but she was impaled so deep on his cock she could barely move. A weak moan whispered past her lips.
His growls of pleasure and dominance echoed in the cave, and dark, primitive lust flavored his charka. With a burst of shadows, they were in the room, and he tumbled her down onto the bed. He grabbed her by the waist and flipped her over onto her hands and knees, his powerful body looming over her from behind making her feel small and far too vulnerable. She’d never been so aware of her delicate femininity.
He swept her wet hair aside and brushed a kiss along her neck. She turned her face, her cheek sliding against silk sheets. A glimpse of a stark, raw hunger that made her shiver in anticipation. His hand banded across her waist to keep her from moving, and then he shoved his thick girth deep into her in one stroke.
His primal groan of satisfaction echoed in the chamber and drowned out Shilah’s wailing scream. Lachlan started to move in her, a relentless rhythm that had her thrashing and sobbing in ecstasy. His chakra worked her clitoris, rubbing circular motions into the sensitive bud. He drove her hard toward insanity, toward rapture, toward losing all sense of herself. She became a creature drunk on pleasure, craving him more and more, despite the thick, rough penetration as he ravaged her trembling pussy. Her body spasmed weakly as his chakra rubbed her aching nub firmer, forcing devastating pleasure into the already overly sensitized nerve endings, sending sharp shocks of sensation through her.
His teeth sank deep in the curve of her neck. The pain of the bite gave way to the erotic ecstasy, and a wild cry tore from her as white-hot heat consumed her. Fire roared and spread through her body in an unending pulse of pleasure. Their minds merged, and Shilah became lost, swept away in the firestorm of his desire, absorbing all the treachery in his soul, all the darkness, and all the desires as he released with a rough satisfied groan.
He retraced his teeth from her throat, and licked her skin, closing the wounds.
He tilted her head up a little and bent his neck, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. His kiss was searing and possessive despite the gentle caress. Shilah shifted so she rested almost on top of his body. She curved herself around the hard outline of his chest and thighs, listening to the muted roar of his heartbeat still glowing the pleasurable aftermath of the rapture.
Strong arms closed around her back, pulling her closer to his powerful torso. “Thank you for this gift beyond price. I will treasure it for all eternity.”
She pressed her nose into his neck and inhaled deeply. “Thank you for tonight,” she murmured almost shyly against their link.
A brush of amusement, bloodlust, and tenderness caressed her through their thread.
“The night has just started, my mate.”
His mate’s silver-white hair was spread over his silken sheets, her eyes glazed and bright with the shy awakening of her sensuality, her slit pink and swollen from his excess, glistening with their combined release. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He had relinquished all concerns that she might get hurt by the brutal pounding as he’d claimed her. Lachlan had slightly lost control, but she had burned right along with him, accepting his rough carnality, surrendering to pleasure several times. She’d moaned his name, over and over, her hands fisting in his hair, holding him to her. Noting the paleness of her skin, and the dark bruises under her eyes, a fierce need to protect her surged through him. He’d taken too much of her blood.
Reaching up with a clawed finger, he sliced into his neck deep. “Come and drink of me.”
The slightest hesitation wafted from her, then she slid along his body with sinuous grace and licked the blood from his neck. Eyes widened, and pleasure flowed along their link. “This is delicious.”
“Suck harder. I took a lot from you, and you need to replenish.”
Her throat worked on a long pull, and then she swallowed. She arched into him, her body soft and pliant. She moaned against his flesh, a breathy little sound that sent a lash of erotic heat rushing through his body. Each stroke of her tongue, tug of her lips, pounded lust through his veins. She pulled from him, pressing a finger to her blood red lips. “How is it that your blood tastes so wonderful to me?”
“We do not know the full of it, but when a Darkan mate a non-Darkan, there is a craving for each other’s blood, especially during the mating heat.”
He tugged her silky soft curves tight against the hardness of his body. Her eyes widened at the feel of his erection, and shock and intrigue burned along their thread. “Again, Lachlan Ravenswood?”
He stroked his fingers down her cheek, infinitely gentle. “For the entire night, my leika. But not at this moment.”
She stroked a hand over his chest, pleasure curving her lips at the simple act of touching him.
“Come, I shall feed you properly and take you to your sister. Then the rest of the night will belong to us once again.”
The fractured stars that were her eyes seemed to brighten, and she moved away from him to her satchel holding her clothes. He watched her as she went into the bath chamber and took a quick bath and dressed. He felt fascinated by her energy, the quick, lithe way she walked, her shimmering sensuality. He felt the ebb of the connection between them, the sharing of mind and body, the dark flow of his blood rushing through her veins. He’d been half alive for four hundred years….and now every dark crevice of his being hungered for her light.
I am bewitched.
16
Shilah stirred sleepily, pushing back the curtain of her silver hair from her face. The overly large bedchamber was lit with dozens of great torches, and a steaming bath which had not been present earlier was now in the center of the room. The tattered remains of her sari littered the plush carpeted floor. Free of sensual distractions, she glanced about, admiring the raw elegance of the room.
Windows encased an entire wall of the palatial chamber, and fluorescent flowers crept along the glass on vines. Somehow, she could smell the unique flowers hovering in the darkness beyond, hear the cries of wild creatures, the gurgling of a stream, and the thunderous roar of a waterfall. It was as if the castle was in the center of a wild forest, and its king was Lachlan Ravenswood—a dark, merciless predator.
She slowly pushed herself up from off the bed, her legs trembled, but she forced herself to stand. The softness of the green carpet tickled her toes, and she took a tentative step and halted. Shilah winced at the ache between her legs. She moved slowly to the bath, faltered at the large glinted mirror before it, and gasped. She looked a fright with her damp hair pasted to her nape. There were red strawberry marks everywhere on her body—her throat, breasts, stomach, and thighs. Those were the places he had nibbled and licked, sometimes nipping with his fangs. Her lips were red and swollen, and she pressed trembling fingers to her mouth.
At some time during their sensual feast, Lachlan had speared his clawed tipped fingers into the silken weight of her hair, bunching the strands in his hands as he held her head in place, staring down at her as he fucked her mouth with slow, shallow strokes. Connected deep to his mind, she explored him, lashing him with tormented pleasure. Her entire body blushed red at the carnal memory. How thorough he had been in his debauchery and cruel sensuality. Sweat had run in rivulets down her skin as he had taken her for hours, riding her through multiple orgasms.
His features never softened to that of a gentle lover. There had been a time her thighs had trembled with the effort to remain open, and he had flipped her to her stomach and drew her to her knees, or atop him. He had been without mercy to her hoarse screams, the hands that twisted the sheets as he took her body to the utmost heights of terrifying pleasure. There had been times when the erotic bite of pain had overwhelmed the pleasure. Those were the times he’d stopped, and took her pussy in his mouth, licking and sucking on her center bringing her to orgasm over and over before mounting her again.
Their hours of loving had been wicked, hedonistic, and Shilah sensed on a deep level she would never experience such shattering bliss with another. “And I would do it all over again,” she whispered to her shattered reflection.
She pressed a hand to the smooth curvatures of her stomach, knowing their mating would not result in a child. Yearning struck her heart, the desperate ache of it smarting her eyes. If only it were possible. She was updated with an injection that prevented unplanned conception. There were at least ten more years before the nanotechnology would disintegrate through her bloodstream. Not that if conception occurred, she could have kept her child in her realm. As an Impure, she was already condemned to a solitary existence. Crown Princess or not, she would be punished to the full extent of the law if she knowingly created life with the knowledge she was a multi-genesis, threatening the safety of an entire planet.
Lachlan Ravenswood made her hunger for impossible things. Shilah had wanted to stay cocooned in the lust he’d stoked in her. The guilt of wanting to be free, never to return to her kingdom almost felled her. She had momentarily yearned to be unshackled from it all and drown herself in the heat, taste, and scent, and a life with him, filled with possibilities of happiness that could not be attained living in Dxyriah.
She felt a peculiar wrenching in the vicinity of her heart. She was perilously close to falling into this man, and that was a situation her kingdom could not afford. It was to only be one night, she reminded herself fiercely, hating the prick of tears behind her lids. “Kala are you well?” she asked knocking at the psychic door of her sister’s mind.
“Yes.”
Shilah frowned. “You are distressed.”
“It cannot be avoided,” the soft resigned whisper came in her voice.
“What cannot be avoided?”
“One of you…. Either you or Lachlan Ravenswood has decided on a path. Until that decision is altered, the only future I see is your death and the slaughter of our people. I’ve seen several possible futures, and they all ended the same.”
Shilah stilled. “You’ve unlocked another level of your powers?”
“Yes. Three days ago.”
Shock blasted through her. Three days? She had been ensconced in this chamber and in his bed for three days? “Oh Kala, why didn’t you call me?”
“You were…busy.”
Heat suffused Shilah’s entire body, and her sister’s soft laugh brushed against her senses.
“Each time I tried to reach out I was met with a haze of lust that I quickly drew away from. I was entertained by the court, and King Gidon is very charming for a monster. I’ve been made to feel very welcomed.”
The precise cause for a transition has not yet been identified, but it has been linked to specific scenarios, such as traumatic emotional experiences, abnormally stressful events, and some developments have occurred with age. However, the sources of a transition still varied among different individuals. The past few weeks could most definitely be described as emotionally traumatic, and abnormally stressful. So, the change from an Alpha to an Omega couldn’t have been easy for her sister. The power would have roiled through her, stretching Kala’s mind and body as it sought to accommodate its depth and essence. “Has your Omega symbol formed?”
“Yes.”
It was absolute then. Each ring of power manifested in a white translucent symbol on their right arm. It was only when an imperial level was attained their eyes changed and evolved. There was a part of Shilah that did not want to know the new outcomes of the foresight, but she girded her herself. “Have you any idea of the decision that was made?”
“I see a monster. It is pure darkness with a rage I’ve never seen or felt. This monster decimated our kingdom because you…you were killed. No one was spared.”
Her heart beat with such brutal force she feared fainting. “How did I die?”
“I see you lying on a floor, your hair flowing around you, your suit soaked in blood, and your lifeless eyes staring at the wall.”
Shilah made her way over to the bath, and lowered herself into the heated water, sighing as the warmth seeped into her muscles.
“I think as Lachlan’s mate…I am very important to him, Kala. And the notion of it is scary. He hardly knows me. My death should mean nothing to him.” The very idea that she could mean so much to another was petrifying.
“Only you had anchored it to the light, and with your death, its only purpose was slaughter.”
“We will leave here together,” Shilah whispered, blinking away the burn of tears. “I’ve made a mess of everything. I shouldn’t have run, Kala. I should have stayed in Dxyriah, gathered my supporters, and demanded the Senate convene. I stupidly ran, and it has been over three months since we’ve left our home. Once you saw me on the throne, ruling with Prince Novar. That vision changed the instant I met Lachlan Ravenswood. I think it is also constant because I am with him. Once we leave the Darkage and Amagarie itself, perhaps the precognition will evolve once again.”
Her sister remain
ed silent, but she could feel her anxiety and doubts. And Shilah understood. It was almost impossible to alter the future a foreseer predicted. Though sometimes the visions were not interpreted in full, and the outcome could be far different than feared, the steps seen always came to pass.
“How has King Gidon been treating you?”
“With kindness.”
Shilah paused in lathering the cleansing oil over her body. Was that fascination she’d detected in her sister’s tone. “Do you like the king?”
“I find him…interesting.”
“Be careful Kala, there is no one I trust in this kingdom.” Except for Lachlan Ravenswood.
The hitch in her sister’s voice indicated she’d caught the edges of Shilah’s thought.
“You be careful, sister,” Kala whispered and then closed their link.
Quickly bathing, Shilah emerged from the bath and used the soft cloth she’d been accustomed to using to dry the wetness from her skin. In her world, a pulse of heat would emit in their bath chamber, and her skin would be dried in a second. She moved over to the chaise longue near the windows and picked up one of the garments clearly intended for her petite frame. She slipped into the dark green kaftan, appreciating the soft feel of the cloth. It hugged her upper body like a lover, then flared from her hips to her ankles in flaring chiffon and silk. She slipped her feet into matching slippers and hurried to the mirror. Using her telekinesis, she arranged her hair in a single plaited braid.
A low growl in the room had her whirling around. Cronus seemed to peel from the wall itself and prowled toward her. Vicious canines lined his mouth, glistening white and sharp. She jerked wildly as the beast that was easily the same height as he approached. Shilah laughed when his massive ridgeback head carefully butted her shoulder. She swore she saw concern in the depth of its eerily blue eyes.
“Were you in here, all this time you great beast,” she murmured, touching him tentatively. Shilah brushed her mind against his, unraveling the pathway that was constructed with less thread than peoples’. “I am well Cronus,” she murmured, rubbing his head, and smiling when he purred.
