Gena Showalter - [Lords of the Underworld 13]

by The Darkest Craving

  “I won’t budge,” he proclaimed.

  A nod from the king had the males backing down. Tiberius, Synda and Leopold leaned forward, each watching him, perhaps curious to know if he would keep his word.

  “Kane,” Tink said, quivering palms pressing on his shoulder blades. Fear radiated from her. “Please don’t.”

  Silent, he reached behind and wrapped his arms around her, twining his fingers together, caging her against his hard back. She rested her forehead against him, and he thought he felt the wet warmth of a tear trickle down his spine.

  The suspicion rocked him. Undid him. Because it meant she cared for him. A care that went deeper than desire.

  Don’t know if I can ever let her go.

  The man lifted the rod, and steam curled from its end—a very large end shaped like a dragon. He approached Kane with hesitant steps.

  “Do it,” Kane commanded.

  “No,” Tink cried, violently shaking her head.

  After a slight pause, the man jabbed the dragon into the center of Kane’s chest and held it steady. Flesh instantly sizzled and melted away. Far more pain than he’d expected slashed through him, the scent of overcooked meat overshadowed the fragrance of flowers. He wanted to gag. Instead, he seethed. These people had thought to do this to Tink’s delicate, beautiful body. Would have done it to her.

  Disaster laughed as the man tried to remove the poker—and failed.

  The metal had fused to Kane’s sternum.

  As hard as the man continued to pull, the dragon refused to budge,

  Gritting his teeth, Kane gripped the shaft of the rod and jerked with all of his might. Separation was finally achieved—but the rod took some of his bone with it. He dropped the thing with a thud. In and out he breathed, trying to regain his bearings. First thing he noticed—utter silence filled the throne room. Everyone was waiting for his reaction.

  Used to pain, he lifted his chin and said, “Next order of business. I wish to spend time with the princess, getting to know my future...bride.” He had to keep her out of trouble. Had to do something to ensure she was tucked into bed without any more punishments thrown Tink’s—or his—way.

  “Oh, Daddy, you were right!” A grinning Synda stood up before her father could reply, and skipped to Kane’s side, as if she’d never been angry, never tossed her shoe.

  Tink ripped away from his hold.

  He spun, tried to grab her. “You’re coming with us.”

  Their gazes tangled in a heated clash. Hurt blazed from her, and he felt branded by the rod all over again.

  “Tink...”

  “Absolutely not. Excuse me, please,” she said, pushing her way through the crowd, leaving the room.

  He moved to follow her, but Synda clutched him by the wrist. “Let her go. She’s nothing to us.”

  Rage had him spinning toward her, his teeth bared. “You will not ever speak like that again. Do you understand me?”

  She blanched under the ferocity of his attention.

  King Tiberius pushed to his feet.

  And Kane realized he had to play nice. He softened his voice, saying, “I don’t want my...servants anywhere near Josephina.”

  The king’s nod was stiff. He snapped his fingers and guards surrounded the three warriors, impeding any moves they might have made. “Your turn, Lord Kane. I don’t want my daughter upset.”

  To Synda, Kane gritted, “Let’s take a walk through the gardens. No...servant.”

  She gave a little pout. “You don’t want to go back to my room?”

  “No.” He realized how insulting that probably sounded, considering everything else he’d done and said this day. “Like I said, I want to get to know you better first.”

  Synda beamed and Kane did his best not to grimace.

  “Go with them,” the king said to one of the guards. “See to their protection.”

  The only one in need of protection was Synda. From Kane. She’d unwittingly helped Tink get away. A killing offense.

  Just get through the next few hours, and you can hunt your Fae down.

  Once he found her, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. He wasn’t going to leave her, either, he realized. He couldn’t. Not while William’s kids were here.

  Besides, Kane might be a magnet for disaster, but to him, there was nothing more magnetic than Tink, and he couldn’t bear the thought of letting her go.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  JOSEPHINA RACED DOWN the hall, tears burning the backs of her eyes. Kane wanted to spend more time with Synda, a supposed means to an end. What end, exactly? Allegedly, his goal for being here was saving Josephina from—yes, okay, there was a good possibility he was catering to the princess for Josephina’s sake.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have let a sudden burst of jealousy and hurt send her fleeing Kane’s side. The man had just suffered horrendous pain on her behalf, taking a punishment meant for her. But...if he would suffer through something like that, just to keep his word and prevent Josephina from being injured, he would be willing to wed Synda to keep her safe, too.

  Another blessing. Another curse.

  He might even desire such an outcome, at least on some level. After all, the Moirai had told him Synda could very well be the girl for him.

  A choked sound escaped her. Kane was hers. Hers! And she didn’t want to share him. His dark, tantalizing kisses had done something to her. Changed her. Now, she craved the heat and ache and crazed need only he could bring forth. She craved...more.

  A hard hand latched onto her upper arm, stopping her progress and swinging her around. She came face-to-face with Leopold and experienced a sharp pang of dread.

  When he noticed the wetness on her cheeks, he scowled. “What’s wrong with you? You just escaped punishment.”

  “Let me go, brother.” A shaming reminder for him.

  One he failed to heed. “Me, you deny. Him, you cry for. Your demon-possessed beast is going to wed the princess and make you his mistress. You realize that, don’t you?”

  I will be no one’s mistress. Not even Kane’s. “Who are you to cast stones?”

  The prince studied her for a long while, probing her features for any sign of weakness. “No matter what I say, you’ll still want him. I can tell.” He hauled her to the window and flicked the curtains apart. “Look out there. See him for what he truly is.”

  Kane and Synda were in the garden Josephina and her mother had once tended. He was still shirtless, his gorgeous, muscled chest a mess, the wound in the center open and raw. He bent down and picked up a rock, then threw it a good distance away. Synda took off in a run, searching for the rock. When she found it, she picked it up and skipped back to Kane.

  He threw it again.

  She chased it again.

  He was...playing fetch with her?

  Oh, yes, she thought. He was definitely doing this for Josephina’s benefit. A smile lifted the corners of her lips, only to fall a second later. The revelation didn’t change the course he’d set.

  Leopold crowded behind her, pressing her against the glass—pressing hardness to softness. She tried to squirm away from him, but he planted his hands beside her, caging her in, holding her captive. Fear sparked to sickening life.

  “I’ll treat you better than he ever could,” he whispered.

  “Let me go, Leopold. Now.”

  “I shouldn’t want you,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Everyone would be horrified if they knew. But I look at you, and I can’t help myself. The desire is there.”

  “Resist it.”

  “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

  “Keep trying.”

  He laughed without humor, and it was a tortured sound. “No, I’m done trying. I’m done waiting. You’re everything I need. I know you understand me in a way no one else can. You’re lonely, admit it. You need someone to lean and rely on, just like I do. I know you’ll finally be the one to satisfy me...the way I’ll satisfy you.”

  “No. No!” she said, in
tensifying her struggles.

  “Be still. I only plan to take a little, to show you how good it can be.”

  A little was far too much. Though she had no kind of training, instinct kicked in and she elbowed him in the stomach, stomped on his foot and head-butted his chin. As powerful as he was, he gave no reaction.

  He kissed the side of her neck. “Settle down and accept it. It’s going to happen.”

  Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this...

  As if he’d heard her silent plea from the garden, Kane stiffened and looked up. His gaze found the window and narrowed. Rage darkened his features, and he jolted into a dead sprint, blasting past the guard, knocking him to the ground. Synda tried to follow after him, but he was too fast for her. The princess stopped and hunched over, struggling for breath.

  If Leopold had noticed the activities below, he gave no reaction. He nibbled on Josephina’s earlobe. “You’re going to like what I do to you. I promise,” he said, then spun her around.

  He tried to mesh his lips against hers. She turned her head away, tried to push him. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms at her sides.

  Panic choked the air from her lungs, but she managed to jerk up her knee, aiming for his groin. But he’d angled his lower body, as if he’d expected such a move, and she ended up rubbing herself against him.

  He moaned with pleasure, and she mewled with distress.

  Kane flew around the corner and tackled the prince to the ground. Leopold was too stunned to fight or use his ability as Kane hammered fist after fist into his face.

  “You don’t touch her! Ever! Do you hear me?” Kane spit the words between punches. Blood sprayed in every direction, raining over the walls. The sound of breaking bones echoed. A tooth skidded across the floor. “You don’t touch her, and you don’t touch me, you don’t touch anyone. Understand? You don’t touch!”

  Leopold’s body began to flop with the force of the blows, but not once did he try and shield himself—he couldn’t. He was too busy being unconscious...maybe dying.

  Shaking, Josephina drew her arms around her middle. “Kane!”

  As quickly as the one-sided battle had started, it stopped. Kane swung around, his narrowed gaze landing on her. His irises were bright red, glowing. He was panting. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, bit her lip. “You have to stop.” As upset as she’d been with him, she couldn’t stand the thought of Kane bearing any further pain. “Any wrongdoing against the prince will be punished, and your only blood slave is—”

  “No. Never.”

  Me, she silently finished.

  He straightened and closed the distance between them. His hands dripped with crimson as he reached up and cupped her cheeks. He flushed the moment he noticed the wet streaks he’d left behind, and released her to lift the hem of her skirt and wipe her clean.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, clearly shamed. Then he flushed again, and cursed. “Your new dress is ruined.”

  “That’s okay. I can—”

  “I ruined it,” he continued hollowly.

  “Really, Kane, it’s no big deal. I don’t care about the dress.”

  “I’m buying you a hundred more. Nicer ones, no more uniforms. You belong to me now. I get to decide.”

  “Listen to me. You have to leave the palace before anyone sees what you did. All right? Okay?”

  His gaze found hers, searched deeply. Whatever he saw caused the red to fade from his eyes, and his expression to soften. “Neither of us will be punished. The prince isn’t going to admit what happened. Are you?” he shouted down at the now-writhing male, who was in the process of coming to. “Because you know this was only the appetizer. I’m capable of worse.”

  An agonized moan was the only response.

  Booted footsteps filled the little alcove, and the guard Kane had knocked down in the garden came racing around the corner. He spotted the prince on the ground and stopped to reach for a weapon.

  Josephina threw a protective arm in front of Kane and rushed out, “He totally could have been like this when we got here,” at the same time Kane said, “He fell.”

  Neither one of them had lied.

  “Get him to his room and call a doctor,” Kane added. “And tell Prince Leopold to be more careful from now on. The next incident might kill him.”

  The guard gulped, nodded.

  Kane scooped Josephina into his arms and stomped off. She offered no protest.

  “Lord Kane,” the guard called. “I think I’m supposed to follow you.”

  “No need. I’m headed to my room.” A few minutes later, they arrived at their destination. Kane stopped in the private bathroom and eased her onto the toilet lid.

  “Stay,” he commanded.

  She raised a brow. “Treating me like a dog now?”

  His smile was sweet and kind and even a little sad. “That’s probably better than the alternative.”

  “Which is?”

  He flicked her the barest of glances. “A lover.”

  The very heat Leopold had tried—and failed—to attain now fanned to life. Just like that. With only two words.

  “I have to get this blood off me,” he said, “and I want you within reach. So. Like I told you, stay. Please.” He messed with the knobs on the shower until water began to spew. Then he placed his fingers at the waist of his pants, paused, as if trying to decide what to do next. Finally, he exhaled heavily and unfastened the material.

  The pants hit the floor and he stepped out of the pool of material.

  His beauty stole her breath. His legs were long, muscular and sinewy, with the lightest dusting of hair. Sexy...perfect.

  He watched her as he hooked his thumb in the waist of his underwear.

  Sweet mercy, I’m finally going to die. I’ll have a heart attack. Surely. “So, uh, how did you know to look at the window?” Good. Keep it casual. Maybe he won’t realize you’re staring.

  He paused, saying, “It’s strange. I felt like there was a string attached to my gaze, tugging it up.”

  She gulped. Why was he stalling? “Has anything like that ever happened to you before?”

  “No.”

  Were they...connected somehow?

  At last, he pushed the underwear down his legs.

  Oh.

  Oh, my.

  Kane, keeper of Disaster, was utterly magnificent. He was sun-worshipped, and chiseled with strength from head to toe. The wings of the butterfly tattoo appeared more jagged than before, stretching closer and closer to his...his...there.

  Oh, my, oh, my, oh, my.

  The heat in her cheeks intensified, and her mouth went dry. He wasn’t a man, but a warrior. Built for battle, honed by fire and steel. Powerful in a way so few would ever know or understand.

  “Do I want to know what you’re thinking?” he asked, his deep voice sounding hoarse.

  She forced her gaze to lift, and met his stare. The air around them instantly sizzled with the awareness she couldn’t ever seem to escape. They were alone. He was naked.

  Oh, the things I want to do to him...

  “I don’t know,” she said, the huskiness of her voice surprising her. “Do you?”

  His heated stare bore into her. “It’ll be safer for us both if I deny the truth.”

  Clang. Clang. Clang.

  Weapon after weapon hit the floor. Soon there was a pile of daggers, guns and throwing stars at her feet.

  “Give me your dress. I’m going to wash it.”

  “I—hmph.”

  He’d closed the distance and forced her to stand, reaching around her to unzip the back of her dress. He had the material shoved down her arms, past her waist and to her feet before she realized what was happening.

  As close as he was, as naked as he was, as aroused as she was...sweet mercy, her blood heated to a dangerous degree, and every inch of her skin tingled, craving more of him. Only, ever him. Her limbs began to tremble. And his...his...his tattoo was getting larger, because one of the butterfly’s wi
ngs rode the length of his...

  Seriously dying, she thought.

  It grew, and it thickened, and it hardened, and it mesmerized her.

  “Oh, my goodness,” she said on a moan.

  “Step out of the gown, sweetheart.”

  Yes.

  For balance, she put her hands on his shoulders before doing as he’d commanded. Contact had her gasping. Even as warm as she already was, he was hot enough to burn her—and she found that she liked being burned. His muscles were hard and intractable, yet covered by silk.

  He straightened, but didn’t move out of reach right away. He peered down at her, his breathing fast and shallow, a match to hers. The still-sizzling air thickened with steam from the tub...with desire...with a thousand other things she couldn’t name.

  “I...you...” she whispered. Do something.

  He blinked, shook his head. Stiffening, he turned and entered the shower, then jerked the curtain across the rod, blocking her view. Within seconds, the rod was bending in the middle, nearly collapsing. She heard the whoosh of skin against porcelain, as if Kane had slipped. He cursed.

  Her knees gave out, and she fell back onto the toilet lid. Soon, the scent of soap wafted to her. She breathed deeply, letting it wash through her, subdue her trembling. “Kane?”

  Only the slightest pause before he said, “Yes, Tink.”

  “Thank you.” They weren’t the words she’d wanted to say, but for now, they would do. “For everything. I mean it.”

  There was a bang, as if he’d just thrown his fist into the tile. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

  She heard the self-castigation in his tone, and sighed. “I ran away from you, remember? And besides, you can’t be with me every second of every day.”

  “Want to bet?”

  Don’t tempt me. “So...how many fights have you been in?”

  “You mean your storybooks haven’t given an exact tally?”

  “No. And I wish they had. You’re quite good.”