Against her belly, she could feel the hard, thick ridge of his cock and she groaned, rubbing against him. Xan shuddered and leaned in, using his weight to still her body. “Stop it,” he muttered.
“Why?” she asked, turning her face and pressing her mouth to his neck. She licked him, tasting salty sweat and man.
“Because I’ve got a mind to seduce you, but I can’t do that if you turn me into a slobbering, raving maniac in the next five seconds, now can I?” Shifting her wrists to one hand, he reached inside her open tunic and cupped her breast. He circled the nipple with his thumb and murmured, “I was watching you—terrified that something would go wrong, and you’d get hurt. Then you started breathing fast, heavy . . . like you are now. A blush turned your cheeks pink and you smiled, the same way you’re smiling now. You were aroused, and it drove me mad. There I stood, worrying that you were in danger, and you were aroused.”
He pinched her nipple and raked his teeth down her neck. “Were your nipples hard like they are now?”
“Yes . . .” Her breath hissed out of her, and she jerked against his grip, desperate to touch him.
He stroked his hand down her middle, toying with the waistband of the formfitting cavinir she wore, then slipping his hand inside.
Syn groaned as he pushed two fingers inside her aching sex.
Xan growled against her neck and rasped, “You’re already wet. So fucking wet . . .” He jerked back and let go of her hands abruptly. Syn wobbled, caught off balance, reaching out to brace her weight on his shoulders. He removed her tunic and flung it across the room and then he went to his knees in front of her, jerking her boots off, and then her trousers. She was naked before him in under a heartbeat.
She fisted her hands in his silken, midnight hair and whimpered as he leaned in, pressed his mouth to her. “So wet,” he muttered, circling his tongue around her clit. “So sweet.”
Her face flaming, Syn closed her eyes. As quiet as he was, it never ceased to amaze her how much he liked to talk at certain times . . . like now. When he was licking her flesh, when he was pushing two fingers in and out of her body in a quick, steady rhythm, he liked to talk. Dirty, wicked words that were almost as erotic as the feel of his mouth on her, as the feel of his tongue circling around her clit.
“I want you to come,” he said gruffly. “I want to taste it. Want to feel it. Come for me, Syn.”
She whimpered and arched closer, desperate to be as close as possible. He caught her thigh and guided it up, draped it over his shoulder. Her other leg threatened to buckle and she swayed. Then he used his hands to steady her, hold her as he shifted lower, lower . . . replacing his fingers with his tongue.
Syn cried out as he stiffened his tongue and started to fuck it in and out her pussy. He was growling, pausing every now and then to mutter something against her flesh. But her brain couldn’t process it—couldn’t think. All she could do was feel . . . All she could do was feel him just before she flew apart.
She was still struggling to catch her breath when he stood and caught her in his arms, carrying her to the bed. She sank against the thin mattress, closing her eyes as she labored for air.
He joined her, catching her sigh with his mouth as he rolled on top of her and settled between her thighs. “Wrap your legs around me,” he whispered. “Pull me close.”
She did, shuddering as it brought them together. He throbbed against her, thick, hard and hot. “Xan . . .”
Against her chest, she could feel his heart, beating fast and heavy. Forcing her eyes open, she reached up and covered his heart with her palm. Staring into his gaze, she said, “Make love to me.”
As he sank inside her, they watched each other.
As he started to rock against her, they watched each other.
As their climaxes burned ever closer, they watched each other. Syn’s lashes drifted low and she whimpered, arching and rocking her hips, needing more, needing all. Xan caught her chin in his hand and angled her head back. His voice a rough, insistent growl, he rasped, “You look at me.”
She forced her eyes open, staring at him from under her lashes.
It hit her low and hard, rippling and echoing, dancing through her body, pulsating inside . . . like a drug.
Staring at him, she reached up and caught the back of his neck, dragging his head down and kissing him. Hungry. Desperate for his kiss, for his taste. For him.
Xan was becoming her drug, she realized.
Something she needed every bit as much as her magic.
Maybe even more.
“Commander, if we’re going to do this, now is the best chance we’re going to get,” Syn said, spreading the map flat on Kalen’s desk and indicating the route she’d chosen for the next supply run.
“How many soldiers are you planning to take?” Kalen eyed the map. His face revealed nothing, but she knew he dreaded these supply runs.
Cautiously, she said, “I only want one squadron.”
His eyes flashed silver, but that was the only change in his expression. His voice was flat as he asked, “Have you gone and developed a death wish recently, Captain?”
“Not hardly.” She lifted a hand when he opened his mouth again and said, “Please. If you’d let me explain. A smaller unit will move quicker, make less noise. And . . . I want to go with them. Now that the magic is available to me again, I can provide far more in the way of offense than a full-sized unit.”
A troubled look passed over Kalen’s face. “You’re so certain that it’s safe.”
“I am.” Syn knew he wanted to believe that, knew he wanted to trust her . . . and she also knew his fear for Lee made him wary. “I know it’s safe for me. For Elina. We’ll have to proceed with caution with Lee, because we don’t know what’s going to happen when she uses her gift—if it will react differently since she has Gate magic—and we don’t want anything alerting the Anqarians. But I’m stable. Lee’s stable. Elina’s stable. I can feel it. I’d know if something was wrong, and that’s not arrogance, or wishful thinking—I’d just know. I’d feel it.”
She glanced down at the maps in front of her and then back at the commander. “We need these supplies, Kalen, and you know it.”
He nodded. With a heavy sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck. “This net—what helps you, Elina and Lee anchor one another. Is it stable?”
“Yes. It’s like a shield, almost. We’ll reinforce it and add to it over time, and when the time comes that we need to add more people to it, we’ll have to adjust, but the net itself, it’s very stable, and maintaining it—it takes nothing from me. It’s fueled by the same energy that fuels my magic.”
Long, heavy moments of silence passed. A muscle ticked in his jaw and then abruptly, he nodded. “So be it. You’re the witch, Syn. If you say it’s safe, then I have to trust that.”
She stared at him, not entirely certain she believed what she’d just heard him say.
“You’ve never let me down yet, Syn.” A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “I shouldn’t have let myself forget that.”
Then he settled in his chair, studied the maps. “Let’s go over this. And you’d better make it good . . . I still don’t like the idea of such a small team.”
Before he could change his mind, she outlined the plan.
“We can make better time, get through the forest quicker. We’ll take the baerns, one for each of us and a few extra to help bring back the supplies.”
When she was done, he gave her a narrow look. “You should have made it better, Syn. Still don’t like the idea.”
Syn didn’t particularly like it herself, but it was a good plan. It was a solid one. Choosing her words carefully, she explained that. “Kalen, whenever we make a supply run—or go anywhere more than a few hundred yards from the camp—we tend to lose men. Sometimes, it’s just a few; sometimes, it’s a lot. Every once in a while, nobody dies. We take larger numbers because those larger numbers give us more strength when confronting the demons, yet when we have larger numbers, we have
a high casualty rate, too. But I can provide that same strength, and if we have half the men we usually take, we can move quicker. We can make it safer when we stop for the night and I can set up defenses that will keep the demons from catching us by surprise while we sleep.”
“I know the positive aspects, Syn.” Kalen leaned back and stared off into the distance, brooding. “I used to lead scouting teams, remember?”
Of course she remembered. That was where she’d met him—for the first few years, she’d dressed as a boy and just made herself useful around the camp. Then she was finally assigned to act as one of the scouts, and Kalen had been in charge of her unit. The two of them had been working together for close to twenty years.
In this little pocket of the world, that was probably close to setting a record.
“I still don’t like this,” Kalen said again, tugging the leather strip from his hair. The long, dark hair fell loose around his face as he bent over the desk, staring at the map. “But it’s a better solution than what we’ve been doing. Have you picked your team?”
Syn just barely managed to keep from gaping at him.
He was going to go along with it.
Just like that?
With one small exception, Syn figured her hand-selected team was ideal.
The exception came with the name of Vena Saurell, the resident pain in the ass.
Vena’s presence was almost enough to make Syn rethink the squadron she’d chosen for this run, but Syn hadn’t ever let her personal likes and dislikes affect her job decisions. She wasn’t going to start now.
According to the squadron’s leader, Vena was doing well enough working with others. She also had experience with the baerns, something that would definitely come in handy—and it had been the deciding factor in allowing Vena to come on the trip.
She was the newest, and the only one with little to no experience—that acted as a mark against her, but the rest of the soldiers in Gering Squadron were experienced and tough, quick and silent, exactly what Syn wanted for this little trip. Vena was handy with weapons and she knew her way around baerns. Despite Syn’s personal misgivings, she knew Vena was a good fit for the assignment.
Blowing out a breath, she turned away from the squadron and made herself focus on the upcoming run.
Kalen studied the squadron with a measuring look and gave her a single, satisfied nod. “Who are you taking as your seconds?” he asked.
“Lothen and Xan.”
Kalen’s brow winged up. “Xan. He’s rather new to be acting as a second.”
“He’s very new . . . to our unit. But the man has military training. You can tell that just by looking at him.”
“There’s no denying that.” He glanced around and located Xan by one of the supply houses, speaking with Lo. “Have you spoken to him?”
She nodded. “He’s fine with it. Lo, as well.”
“What about the rest of your unit?” Kalen asked, his voice dry. “You can’t tell me hundreds of soldiers with more time in are fine with you picking him to act as a second on this little outing. He hasn’t been here long at all.”
“I selected my seconds based on who displayed the most skill, the most leadership abilities and the ability to make decisions under pressure. Xan fits the bill on all three, better than damn near anybody else in the camp, save for a few.” Tilting her head to the side, she gave Kalen a wide grin and said, “I could always request Elina or Lee accompany me and act as my second.”
“Fat chance,” Kalen muttered. He didn’t want the three of them together for more than a few seconds right now. He was probably being paranoid, but Syn appreciated his caution.
“Well, that marks off two of the others I’d considered. Bron was one, but we can’t afford to have both him and me away from the camp at the same time. Unless of course you want to take over the training . . . ?”
“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. “Who else did you consider?”
“The only other person I’d even think about having at my back out there is Morne, and as you know, Commander, he’s not exactly available right now.” She shrugged and rubbed at the back of her neck. She had the start of a tension headache brewing, and it was going to be an ugly one if she didn’t relax. Come sunrise, they’d head out on their supply run, and although she wouldn’t admit it, she was terrified. “Xan and Lo are the best choices . . . I suspect you know it as well as I do.”
Kalen grimaced. “Of course I know it. I just want you prepared to explain your reasoning to those who bitch about it once you return.” He jabbed a finger in her direction and said, “You’d best be prepared to handle those explanations, too, because I already know I’m going to have people at my door demanding it. I’m sending them your way.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” she said levelly.
“Good.” He gave her a critical stare and then jerked his head to the side. “Get the hell out of here, Syn. I’ll brief the squadron on things and then they can have the night off to rest and get ready. You go do the same.”
“Respectfully, Commander, I’ll do that after we dismiss the squadron.” She gave him a faint smile and added, “Besides, the last thing we need is for me to look like I’m slacking in my duties.”
Kalen hadn’t admitted it, nor would he, but there had been some backlash from Vena’s machinations. More than once, Syn had found herself being challenged by some of those who either were unfamiliar with her or just didn’t care for her all that much.
She could handle the face-to-face confrontations, but if there were those giving her grief in public, then she knew there were probably twice as many who were taking their grievances to Kalen in private.
The debriefing took close to an hour. Lo and Xan were called up to stand by her. Kalen remained on hand, giving his silent, unwavering support. He may let her handle those who bitched about her choice in seconds, but just by staying there as she outlined the planned run, he showed he backed her decisions.
She appreciated it.
There were a few people watching Xan from the corner of their eye, but by the end of the debriefing, the faint hostility she’d sensed had faded. Some of them still weren’t thrilled, but they were professionals—most of them.
“So . . . does anybody have any questions? Concerns?” she asked, wrapping things up. She hooked her thumbs in her utility belt and stood with her legs braced wide, studying the squadron.
A few hands went up. The general questions. Concerns expressed about the route, whether or not they were taking a large enough unit.
Vena’s hand went up and Syn braced herself for whatever stupid commentary that woman might offer. But to her surprise, it was a fairly legit—and fair—question. “How can you be certain your magic is steady enough to rely on?”
“If I wasn’t certain, we’d be going forward with a different plan,” Syn replied. “We’ve used this method before, back before we had trouble channeling the magic, and it’s always worked. The magic is channeled differently now, but it’s still there—I can still use it, still rely on it. It won’t fail us.”
“Hope not.” Vena scowled and looked off into the distance as she added, “Since it’s our lives you’re playing with.”
“Your lives aren’t a game to me, Saurell. I take the safety of my unit very seriously. If I had even the slightest doubt, this wouldn’t be happening.”
Kalen spoke up, his voice carrying to the back of the squadron and beyond. “Captain Caar has my utmost trust in this matter. I know her skills, and I trust them. I’d trust them with my life, and I have. I also trust those skills with your lives.” His gaze skimmed over the unit as he continued. “This doesn’t mean there’s no risk involved in this run. There is risk and if you forget that for even a moment, it could very well be the last mistake you make. The demons are getting more aggressive. They can no longer travel back and forth between the Gates, and as you well know, they are predators. Game is getting scarce. They are starving and they are getting more
desperate—to them, we are nothing but food. That only ups the risk to our men. However, we can’t hope to combat that risk by sending ever-larger units on the supply runs. That presents an all-new danger. Larger units move slower and it’s harder to conceal a large group of men. There is risk involved in this run, but there is risk involved in this no matter what. If you want a life without risk, let me know; we’ll get you eastbound as soon as possible.”
Nobody spoke.
“Well, then. I’d say we’ve covered everything,” Syn said. She nodded to the squadron and dismissed them. As they all filed out of the hall, she turned and faced Xan, Lo and Kalen. Giving them a bright smile, she said, “That went rather well.”
Kalen snorted. “That smile would terrify a sane man, Captain.”
EIGHT
As much as he might dislike it, Laithe had come to the conclusion that he couldn’t return to his unit.
Guilt over Corom gnawed at him, although he’d had little choice. Corom would have reported back to Reil, and Laithe simply couldn’t have that.
Few things mattered more than his duty to his superiors, his duties to his brethren.
This was one of those things, and he’d acted as he must. That it had cost the life of a good Sirvani would keep him awake at night, however not as much as the alternative.
Like it or not, he couldn’t return. Deserting his people certainly came with risks, though. If by some slim chance the bastard Dais returned to the High Lord and spoke of what Laithe had done—assuming they believed the offworlder—then Laithe’s life was forfeit.
But he doubted Dais would attempt to return to Reil.
So hopefully, he was safe. At least he hoped so, because he couldn’t leave here now. Not after what he sensed going on the past few days.
It was the buzz of magic. Witch magic hit his senses like strong, undiluted alcohol, and he reveled in it, almost drunk on it. This was part of the reason why his kind hunted witches. Having that power so near, it was almost as pleasant as foreplay.
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