Shadows and Shade Box Set

by Amanda Cashure

  And hold her.

  I’ve had three wives. Three other women in my entire life that I have actually slept next to in a bed, and then only because we understood each other's need for space. Usually, waking up next to someone after an Allure-induced tumble in the sheets just doesn’t happen.

  Allure burns hot, then burns out. Even with an Elite SeductionSeed, my power couldn’t care less about their comfort or their feelings.

  But with Kitten – I care too much.

  I’ll never tell her that the first time she was in my room, when I found her under my bed, I used my power just as much to distract myself as I did to dig under Pax’s skin.

  Even when I didn’t know her, I had this overwhelming need to see her wake up in my bed. Wake up with me.

  Probably followed by more tumbling in the sheets. I’m not going to lie, seeing her naked is one of those desires I keep shoving down, deep deep down. I need those gray eyes to look at me with white-hot lust and not be held back by her fear of what I might do.

  Which is never going to happen – because the minute it does, she’s dead.

  So I need that fear in her. A healthy level of it to keep her from pushing my boundaries.

  And, oh, how I want those boundaries pushed. By her hands, by her body.

  And not in pain. Not like now. As the rain pelts down outside and the day wears towards afternoon, and I wait for her to stop shaking.

  Then stop whimpering.

  Then fall into the kind of sleep that lets the mortal body heal.

  The hours slide on. I don’t move.

  Eydis had sixteen books on mortals – an excessive number for any Silvari. I do plan on devouring them all. Eating requirements. Evolution. Anatomy. I feel drastically underprepared for Kitten to be in my life – even at arm's length.

  Which she isn’t right now. Right now, she’s wrapped in my arms, and I’m doing my best to keep my arms around her middle – and not her bare chest.

  And… I’m winning.

  The realization jerks inside of me. My power is recognizing her needs and has been for some time – I just couldn't see it. What my power wants right now is to fix her, not … other stuff. She’s naked in my arms, warm against my chest, her curves tucked perfectly against mine. Not teasing lust to the surface, but a desire to comfort her, to make this right, and to hold her until I know it is.

  I’ve never had that happen – even with other Allures. Aeons, I broke Kiana’s leg in training, and the most I did was hold the door open as she limped into the healer’s office – while thinking that once her leg was in splints, I would have to wait two whole days before she could climb on top of me again. Then, because I was bitter about that, I slept with the SeductionSeed in her triune instead. That’s one of the reasons Pax ordered the bathroom in our hall to be a male-only bathroom.

  I groan under my breath. I bloody hate my power. Hate the way it hijacks my thinking to get what it wants. Steals my concentration almost the same as Thane can jump in and out of Pax’s life. Only I don’t have another being to blame, I just have myself.

  The front door slams open, and a heavy desire to find and secure Shade fills the periphery of my magic. The ward on the house, the one that should have let me and only me enter or leave, has worn off far earlier than it should have, but before I can get to my feet, my power brushes against the distinct tang of Darkness.

  “Killian?” I call.

  But I know it’s him, and he’s already taking the stairs two at a time. Storming toward me.

  I slip from under the covers, my fingers trailing over her warm skin. Her breath shudders, and she lets out a low moan that doesn’t quite leave her throat, but still somehow manages to pool tension into my chest.

  My hands go up in defense – or maybe surrender. I am wearing nothing but my braies, and Shade’s lingering pain is obvious.

  Aeons, this is going to hurt.

  Killian slams into the room and smashes straight into me, connecting his fist with the corner of my jaw. I hit the ground, and his desire to break something slams down on top of me. The man’s dark hair has grown since we left the castle, long enough for the rain to have made it sit heavy and stick to his forehead and neck. And Killian is a big guy, mountain-crushing big, so he has pretty much dragged half the storm in here with him.

  He grabs me by my hair and yanks me to my feet while his other hand draws his dagger, the sharp sound punctuating his anger.

  “Wait,” I gasp, using all my strength to buy me some time. “Let me explain.”

  He freezes, locked in place, growling, “Your Allure won’t hold me for long.”

  “Just long enough to save my hair. Take a moment, brother. You can feel she’s alive. If I had done something…” I swallow hard, forcing the last words out. “… Then she wouldn’t be.”

  Done something, like let my Allure relax enough to paint both our desires in bold colors around the room. I know how the steps to that dance go – my power wants, I enjoy, and enjoy, and enjoy, all the while absorbing the energy being created between us. Only a powerful Saber can take as much as they give, and if I’m the most powerful Saber in the room, then I steal the dragon's share. But I never see it happening, so wound up in the moment that I just know passion and lust. The touch, the kiss, the rush of body-against-body.

  Until it’s over.

  And there’s no turning back.

  I know what Killian’s thinking, how easily the thin line between me and Kitten could have been blown aside like a single strand of cotton and a small huff of breath. Nudged just that little bit, right into the lick of a candle too close to something so delicate to begin with.

  And how impossible it is that a candle burning hot like my power does inside me could somehow manage to lie naked and wrapped around pure silk and not leave a single singed strand.

  Too impossible to be true. Sure – her heart is still beating, but what damage have I caused?

  First thing, deal with the man holding me hostage, then find a way to fix the mess I’ve made.

  Seth reaches the top of the stairs, his hair and clothes as wet as Killian’s. He looks around for a moment in dumb shock.

  “What did I miss?” he asks, his usual light and playful tone heavy with worry.

  “Everything, little brother, everything,” I say, but I don’t try to face him. I can’t, because I’m hanging awkwardly in Killian’s grip.

  “Why?” Killian asks.

  “Eydis is dead. We dealt with the Sabers sent to kill her –” I begin.

  “Skip to explaining your clothes,” he growls.

  “It was raining.”

  “But why are you naked? You’ve got other clothes,” Seth says, moving tentatively toward the bed like he’s worried what he might find.

  “I’m not naked – I’m in my braies – and I couldn’t get into the bed soaking wet. I’d have never warmed her up like that.”

  “Is she naked?” Killian growls.

  “Mostly, yes… Ah, completely – actually.”

  Killian breaks through my Allure, lets go of my hair, then thumps me in the face. His knuckles crush into my nose, splattering my blood over his fist. I hit the wall on the other side of the room and slide to the ground pinching my nose while my healing kicks in.

  He advances on me, but Kitten’s groan stops him short.

  “Leave him alone,” she says weak and pained.

  Twelve Paces

  I stir when Roarke moves but don’t really wake up until I hear Seth’s voice. My Chaos. The guy who can’t resist climbing trees or playing a practical joke. “But why are you naked? You’ve got other clothes.”

  “I’m not naked – I’m in my braies – and I couldn’t get into the bed soaking wet. I’d have never warmed her up like that.” Roarke’s voice. My sweet Roarke. I don’t remember much since the mage and the rain – but I do remember being in his arms.

  “Is she naked?”

  That’s Killian’s voice – big and gravelly. My whole body relaxes – safe in
his presence. I’m always safe, and yet strangely in danger, when I’m with Killian.

  My thoughts don’t get far – consciousness already fading away again.

  A solid, bed-shuddering thump startles me awake again – followed by Roarke groaning.

  I roll over, struggling against the daylight and the disorientation. Seth’s standing beside me, his arms crossed over his chest. Killian’s more to the left – his fist lifted and his fingers clenching and unclenching. The deep scar on his face is alive with anger like the damage happened a week ago – not eighty-odd years ago.

  And both of them are dripping wet.

  Roarke is pulling himself up off the floor, rubbing his jaw, blood smeared under his nose.

  “Leave him alone,” I growl, instantly regretting it as the remnants of the worst headache in my life boom and echo in my skull.

  “Vexy,” Seth says. “How do you feel?”

  “Like shit,” I moan, counting Elorsins. Seth in front of me. Roarke almost playing with his brothers’ feelings, and Darkness letting himself get played, but no Pax. “Where’s Pax?”

  Killian lifts his fist again, stalking toward his Allure brother. Crap, Roarke, what did you tell him to piss him off so much?

  “He didn’t do anything,” I declare – trying to save him from another hit to the face. It seems to work, and my chest relaxes – I don’t like seeing any of them in pain. Not Seth when he acts like my spirit animal, or Killian playing protector, or Roarke when all he was doing is caring for me.

  I mutter out more words, but I’m not sure what because I’m too busy counting heads again. Yep – no angry-alpha Pax. My angry-alpha Pax, who rode with them to investigate the origin of the people hunting us. People who were hunting him too.

  My heart starts beating way too fast.

  “You have to get specific here,” Seth says.

  He kneels beside the bed, which puts him down at my eye level. Having my eyes open is hard enough work right now. There’s no way I’m sitting up to deal with whatever this is that’s going on. Seth’s brilliant blue eyes try to hold my gaze, one hand resting on my shoulder, the other brushing under my chin. Coaxing my eyes open a little more, or to stay open. I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks – heavy with fatigue and almost shaking with fear.

  “Tell me where Pax is first,” I manage.

  “Pax is fine. He’s outside – calming down. Did Roarke kiss you?” Seth whispers.

  He runs a finger over my eyebrow, gently lifting my eyelid and getting a really good look at my eyes. His eyes are ice blue. They look like someone found the perfect blue gem and gifted it to him in those moments before birth when everything about us is designed.

  Then they gave him the worst sense of humor and almost ruined their perfection. Almost.

  “Yes,” I manage, without even thinking.

  Actually, I am thinking – about why Seth is inspecting my eyes, and clearly, I just said the wrong thing because Killian smacks Roarke in the face again.

  “Stop hitting him,” I try to growl, but end up groaning instead. “He didn’t hurt me.”

  “But he kissed you?” Seth asks, letting go of my eyelid and trailing his fingers down my cheek before running his thumb over my lips.

  Yes, Roarke kissed me, but damn, Seth’s lips on mine right now would be a welcome distraction from the pain in my head.

  Which makes me, what? Crazy? I kiss one Elorsin one minute, then want another the next. Hearts aren’t supposed to be split up like this.

  “Vexy?” he whispers.

  “Yes, last night. Not today. Today he didn’t kiss me and last night he didn’t hurt me. Stop asking me questions. My head really chuckin’ hurts, guys.”

  “Ouch, Killian, ouch,” Roarke says – Killian’s dragging him across the room.

  “Take her pain,” Killian growls. “And nothing else.”

  Roarke’s hand rests on my hair, and the ache turns into a fog. A blissful, heavy, pain-free fog. My vision wavers, and flashes of sparkly light dance around the room.

  “I don’t know what happened. I was yelling, then I was unconscious – again.” My mouth has more room to express itself now that the pain has settled. “Then he took my clothes off.” I might be about to add that I was cold and shaking and hurting, and nakedness was the least of my worries, but it’s too late. Killian’s already thrown Roarke across the room.

  The pain barely has a chance to seep in before Roarke’s hand is back. Heavier. Held in place by Killian, I think.

  “Kitten,” Roarke moans. “Killian, brother, I’m not going to let her hurt.”

  “Sorry,” I whisper. “Did you tell them what happened?” The world is fading in and out as I search for that blissful pain-free nothing again.

  The conversation drifts away as I hone in on the scent of jasmine and the feeling of light.

  “Then you should have put some dry clothes on before you got into bed with her,” Seth says.

  “I couldn’t, our bags are downstairs.”

  “What about those!” Killian growls.

  I don’t open my eyes, but I can picture what he’s talking about.

  “Is he pointing to Eydis’ clothes?” I chuckle.

  But the words leave my head throbbing again, and instead of listening to the response, I pull a little harder at the feel of Roarke’s hand against my head. At the flow of power that’s dissolving my pain. Wanting it. Claiming it. Relaxing into it.

  Allure, meet Pain. Allure, destroy Pain.

  The magic feels almost like something I can touch. Like it’s real. Which is stupid, because of course, it’s real. Tangible, maybe that’s the right word.

  My head clears enough for me to open my eyes and form sentences again.

  “I remember you carrying me inside,” I tell him. “I don’t care about the rest.”

  They growl at each other some more, then Roarke rolls his eyes to one side and gives the barest of nods. Suggesting, ‘not here, downstairs,’ to Killian.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I order. “You need to tell me what happened too because that was horrible.”

  “Seth, stay,” Killian orders.

  He grabs Roarke by the hair again and drags him from the room.

  My eyes droop shut as the pain pings through every fiber of my mind, then settles into an ache. The kind of ache you get after stirring the ammonia-vats all night. I feel light-headed but manage to pull myself up – taking the blankets with me.

  Seth’s still kneeling beside the bed, his gaze searching my face like there’s something he doesn’t understand in my expression.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Roarke’s slept the night beside me before,” I say. I hold up my splinted arm to indicate a time when they were all fine with him lying beside me.

  “We were there that time. We all discussed it. We had rules, and Killian was ready to make sure they were followed. Imagine how we feel walking into this.”

  I groan, about to apologize when Seth’s smile tweaks into mischief. Suddenly, the guy pounces up onto the bed.

  “Get off, you’re all wet,” I squeak, shoving at him.

  “I could take my clothes off?” he suggests, but he lets me push him off the edge.

  There’s a lot going on right now. Killian is potentially still hitting Roarke, they’re definitely having a private conversation and keeping secrets, and Pax is still nowhere in sight.

  Pax needs to be in sight.

  Not like I want to see him, to check he’s okay with my own two eyes and probably my hands too. Nope – I need to see him.

  I swing my legs out of the bed.

  “What are you doing?” Seth asks.

  “Saving Roarke.” And finding Pax.

  Seth crosses the room, leans down, and pinches Pax’s shirt – the one I was wearing on the ride here – between his thumb and forefinger. He holds it into the air – still dripping wet. Then he lets it splat back to the floor.

  “
All of our gear’s still on our horses,” he says, turning toward the clothes hanging on Eydis’ rack along the wall.

  “Where’s Pax?” I ask again – I’m getting more and more anxious without him.

  “You already asked that – he’s outside. He’s… dealing with something,” Seth says as he flicks through Eydis’ clothes.

  “Forget it,” I tell him, shaking the top cover off the bed. It will have to do.

  Seth turns from the rack. Mostly they’re the same kind of white robes that the woman died in. She was tall and lean with very long white hair, and I’m rather shorter, rather less lean, and my hair is a mottled-blond mess – so I’m good with the cotton blanket.

  I pull it tight around myself.

  “Shit, no. You’re not going anywhere naked,” he declares. “Let’s not test things that quickly.”

  Seth grabs the first thing his fingers touch and tosses it onto the foot of the bed – followed quickly by a few other items from the drawers.

  “Test what? I’m going out there,” I say, striding to the foot of the bed.

  He cuts me off. “Get dressed first, or I’ll get you dressed myself. It’s only fair since Roarke got to get you undressed.”

  “Turn around,” I growl at him.

  He turns, sighing dramatically. He slouches and stomps just for good measure. Acting like a child who’s been told they can’t have any chocolate.

  If I wasn’t trapped in a bubble with the guy, I’d take my thin blue blanket… which is made from cotton so soft it feels like air against my skin – and it’s warm too. Soft and warm – two of my favorite things. Right, getting distracted. The dull pain that is making me want to go back to sleep will do that to a person. But… if I wasn’t trapped with this guy, I’d take my blanket and run right past him.

  Rain is still pelting down the window, muffling the view of my three guys out there talking – in the wet. Pax with his arms folded and an angry expression on his face. Roarke still wearing nothing but his braies, and Killian standing at an angle like he’s blocking Roarke from leaving.

  Are they crazy?

  Or just keeping secrets?

  Suddenly, getting dressed is the most important thing on my list. I drop the blanket to the bed and rush to get the dress-thingy on. My leather splint is still firm and comfortable. I grab the first item of clothing. A breastband. Why is Seth the only one to consider the kind of clothing a girl should be wearing?