by Allie Santos
“But you’ve manifested all sorts of things,” I said.
“Yes, and I was drained. I would need to sleep off the effects to recharge the little magic I have. Especially in trying to heal this,” he said.
“We can do that,” I said, and he raised an eyebrow at me. “What! We aren’t in a hurry, right? Come on, you can’t walk around with a hole in your shoulder.”
For the first time since I’d had the misfortune of meeting him, he seemed indecisive. “Very well,” he said and walked off the trail we were on and through some brush to a cleared spot hidden from anyone who would cross by.
He sat down, rolled his neck, and waved his hand. A smaller tent appeared around us, barely big enough for me to stand. No wonder he had sat down. Below him lay a blanket, and I stared at it in confusion.
“I could have conjured a bed, or a bigger tent but the more I use magic, the less I will have to induce healing in my shoulder. And that is what you were going on about, correct?” he said, eyebrow raised as he stared at me.
I nodded, sat down crisscross, and set my chin on my fisted hands as I watched him. He moved as if he wasn’t in pain and stretched his arm out. Roark placed his other hand on the wound. His chest moved up and down, breathing deeply. He continued this for a couple of minutes.
Unable to help myself, I whispered, “Are you doing it?”
He squinted one eye open and glared at me. “I was getting there,” he said in a level tone. I was coming to realize the tone meant he was reaching maximum exasperation. “I have to focus to channel healing to the wound since I am so weakened. Be silent until I have finished.”
I raised my hands up and mimicked locking my lips. He went back to his breathing, and I stared at his chest, the rise and fall lulling me into a state of relaxation. As the anxiety and adrenaline fully seeped out of my system, I realized that he had saved me. He could have easily taken off and lurked around until that weirdo Evan let me go, but he had risked himself for me.
A thrill rushed through me. Maybe he was beginning to see me as more than a pawn, as someone worth worry… My shoulders drooped as my brain gave me a reality check. He just needed me for whatever the hell they had grabbed me for in the first place.
But no, that didn’t completely jive. He’d almost seemed desperate to get me. I pursed my lips together to hold in my smile.
A grin slowly took root as I watched him meditating. His forehead smoothed as he concentrated. Hope. Again, there was hope. I tried to stifle it, but it went rampant, mixing with the pressure inside my chest that I’d been feeling every time I looked at him.
That feeling was… I actually liked Roark, or at least I was heading in that direction.
I wanted to know more about him and his world. And maybe… maybe I could tell him about mine and show him it was more than he thought. That humans were more than just vermin. One day I could show him— I stopped that thought process before I embarrassed myself.
I took a relaxing breath. I hadn’t known this feeling had been spreading from the start, as he’d shown me kindness in his odd ways, giving me the blanket, letting me sleep on the bed, carrying me, and the gentle touches. They were all his version of caring. I nibbled on my lower lip.
My attention was brought back to the present as warmth filled the tent, and Roark’s hand trembled. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his breathing got heavier as he fell forward, then slumped to the side.
“Roark?” I reached to move the stiff fabric that flapped over the wound. The pale skin around the bloodied hole slowly knitted together until there was only smooth flesh.
I gasped, reached forward, and scrubbed off the dried dark purple blood. For the most part, it flaked away, just like human blood. I ran my hand over his shoulder, caressing the smooth lines. In the next second, his hand was around my wrist, gripping gently. I turned my head, and our noses almost touched. His eyes were half-lidded as his hand reached up.
Swallowing, my own eyes drifted shut as his finger touched my jaw, and he drew it down to my chin in a slow caress. My breathing got erratic from the one touch, and I stared at him, confused. I wanted him. The urge to lean forward and press my lips against his was nearly overwhelming.
I fought the urge, reminding myself that he wasn’t available. I never wanted to be the other woman. I would never do that to myself or another person, even if Sabine was a lunatic. I tried to stutter out something, anything. Maybe to yell at him not to touch me, but it wouldn’t come out.
“I will sleep now,” was all he managed to slur before he tipped over and landed on his side, his mouth soft and slightly open. I stared down at him in shock, my hand coming up to retrace the gentle, almost loving caress he’d traced on my face.
His body was in an awkward angle, so taking pity, I reached over him to straighten him out, pulling his legs straight. When he seemed comfortable enough, I scooted over to a corner, but his newly healed arm reached out, jerked me forward, and pulled me to his naked chest.
Tensing, I tried to pull away, but the grip around me got tighter. A soon as I relaxed, the arm relaxed, too, letting me breathe easier. I wiggled and realized I was comfortable against him.
Letting myself get closer, I told myself it was about survival and not my desire to be near him. I let his hard chest steal my human warmth and was lulled to sleep.
I was having the best dream. Roark didn’t hate me for what I was, and he never let anyone hurt me. He pulled me close, and I melted into his arms. I looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back at me, a real smile, one I had never seen before. It even crinkled the corners of his eyes.
His hand caressed down and traced my sides. My arms were corralled by his as I reached up, wrapping my hands around his neck and trailing them down until they settled on his chest.
I scooted up, heading to nuzzle his neck, and the rough ground scraped my body. I groaned, the pleasure outweighing the uncomfortable feeling under me. Finally reaching his neck, I buried my face in the crevice. The chill of his skin surprised me out of my half-sleep state. I froze and felt his arms still clutching me tight.
Gasping, I pulled my head back. He stared down at me in confusion, his eyes wide open. I realized that my thumb had been gently rubbing his neck, and I stilled, scared at what he would say.
“Keep doing that,” he said in a rough voice, and I continued, feeling as if in a trance.
“If you don’t like touch, why are you letting me?” I made myself ask, and his reply shocked me.
“I don’t know… It feels right.” He leaned forward, and my stomach dipped with pleasure. I swallowed harshly, this time for a very good reason.
12
I sizzled with anticipation as his lips met mine. Softly. Gently. The hand on my back flexed and tugged me even closer, closer than I’d ever thought possible. Sure, Jeff and I had had some intensely intimate moments, but never had it consumed me. Never had I felt so lost to him.
A rough noise sounded in the back of Roark’s throat that intensified my desire. I grasped his freshly healed shoulder and pulled myself higher, using it as a perch to drag my body flush against his without separating our lips. At this moment, all I knew was Roark.
He grabbed my leg, lifted it, and tugged it up around his waist. I gasped at the feeling of his hard length. Roark pushed against my warmth and my breathing hitched. My hips undulated as my body yearned to get closer. The movement brought me back to myself. Pulling away with a rough exhale, I stared into his unfocused lavender gaze.
“Roark, what are we doing?” I asked breathlessly.
“I don’t know,” he said with a slight crinkle between his eyes.
“You say that an awful lot,” I said playfully, nudging him.
He smiled slightly and then frowned. “I am… attracted to you,” Roark said and cleared his throat as he tried to evade my searching eyes. “From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. But—” He paused and then started muttering in a language I didn’t understand.
“Are you speaking
Russian?” I asked, and he paused his muttering to nod. “You speak Russian? Is that where you’re from?”
“My people speak all languages, and I am Fae. You know this.” His imperious tone sent a wave of indignation through me. I glared at him, and he sighed. “I like the… cadence of the language. Back to what I was saying. There is an obvious physical attraction between us. We will explore it and be rid of it,” he said.
I stared at him, too shocked to say anything. “What? Are you… talking about sex?”
He propped himself on his elbow and nodded shortly. “Coupling, yes,” he said, looking distracted, and I felt his other hand grope my butt. I tensed, feeling cheap all of a sudden as I realized my body was still wrapped around him. He wasn’t available, and I was acting like a hussy.
“Um, I’m sorry, but that’s a no,” I said, slowly unwrapping my legs from him and removing my arms to put an inch between us.
“You deny this.” He waved a hand between us. “I will pleasure you unlike any other.”
I scooted away from him even farther and said nothing. I could tell he was angry as he shot to his knees in a smooth motion and twisted his hand up. Nothing happened. He did it again and nothing.
“What?” he said, confused as he stared at the tent above our heads and tried waving his hand again. He suddenly pitched forward. Reacting on instinct, my hands shot out to catch him. Since he had been on his knees and me on my back, it was awkward, to say the least.
My arms broke his fall, and he looked at me with unfocused eyes as purple specks dotted his forehead. “You’re sweating blood,” I gasped and pushed up to my own knees as I maneuvered him into a sitting position.
“Poison,” he managed, a grim twist to his lips when he nodded toward his shoulder. I swiped the torn shirt off the shoulder I had thought was healed. Where there had been unblemished skin were now spidering webs of inky lines shooting outward, covering his shoulder.
“What do I do?” I rasped and tapped his cheek when he didn’t respond.
He shook his head as if waking from a dream and refocused. “There is nothing to do. It’s iron poisoning. The boy had iron bullets. Without the full capacity of my magic, I cannot heal this.”
My heart pounded harder with every word he said. “I-I—” I took a deep breath. “Are you sure?”
He nodded grimly and closed his eyes as he laid back down, exhaustion written on his brow. Staring down at him in shock, I realized he wasn’t going to move. He was giving up? Yes, he was a crazy Fae, but I didn’t want to see him hurt. Pain contorted his face as I debated with myself.
I gazed toward the exit of the tent. This was my chance. I could run. Never see these creatures again. Never see Sabine again. The temptation ran deep and urgent, but I heard Roark’s increasingly labored breathing and reality set in. Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t make it out there. And I sure didn’t know how to find the portals.
Everything looked exactly the same. I didn’t know what kind of creatures lurked in the woods, like the lion thing that had attacked Sabine. If I ever crossed paths with one of those, I was definitely a goner.
And even if none of that was the case…
I stared down at his face. I didn’t think I could bring myself to leave so callously.
What he had done was wrong. I was his captive for God’s sake, but I couldn’t deny the kindnesses and care he had shown me. I hated many things I had seen him do, or stand by as others did, but I sensed the good in him. The vulnerable parts he kept hidden. Added to all of it was that he’d gotten hurt saving me.
I pressed my temples between my hands as my eyes were drawn back to the prone Fae. He was my chance. Not only out there, but with Sabine. If my kidnapping wasn’t premeditated, I might have had a chance, but that wasn’t the case.
I scooted to him and poked his arm. He slit his eyes open and glared. “Must you continue being a pain? Leave me be, human.”
“How long do you have until the poison takes over?”
He sighed and closed his eyes again. “One, two days? Who cares? I grow weary of this magic-less life,” he said with a bitter edge.
“But isn’t that what you and Sabine are working for? To return magic. Years of work, and you’re willing to just die lying down?”
“It’s pointless. I will not make it to the Hag in time before it spreads to the rest of my body.”
“So, there is a way to heal you,” I exclaimed and shook his arm.
His eyes shot open in surprise. “I will not get there in time.”
“Yes, you will. I’ll make sure of it. You just have to point us in the right direction,” I cajoled.
“If you aid me, what do you want?” he asked suspiciously.
“Protection, that’s all I ask for. Don’t let Sabine or anyone else hurt me.” I wanted to ask for so much more, but I had to tread carefully. He tilted his head, and I waited with bated breath as he stared at me. It was really starting to freak me out how still he was when he finally gave me a short nod.
He carefully got to his feet. “We need to move. I am strongest now and will only weaken.”
Shit, if he was at his strongest now, we were in deep trouble. He stepped out of the flap of the tent with me on his heels and removed the torn scrap of shirt hanging to his shoulder. I gulped, trying to tone down the desire that mounted as I watched his back undulate with his every movement. Thankfully, the sun had risen. He started forward with slow steps. I looked back at the small tent and got the feeling we would need it. I ran to it and tugged a corner until it unraveled.
“Do you have the bag for this?” I turned, and he shook his head. I regretfully dropped the wilted material and returned to his side.
Inhaling, I prepared myself for a long journey. We had everything working against us, from my limp to his poisoned, hunched-over form. The circumstances weren’t really giving me any reason to think we would make it to this Hag anytime soon.
“How far away is the place we’re heading?” I asked.
“A day and a half for a normal Fae,” he said, flicking his gaze to me. “For us, it’ll be two days if we are lucky.”
“Wow, absolutely no confidence in us,” I joked.
He didn’t laugh. “No.”
I stopped laughing and rolled my eyes at his deadpan tone. “What’s your problem? You have this whole doom and gloom thing going on with the short answers and condescending glances.” He side-eyed me. I smiled, trying to sound lighthearted. “See! There’s another one.”
He shook his head, but as he turned away, I caught the slight curl to the corner of his mouth. “Is this the reason you refused my proposal?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Your proposal?” It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. “Like the one where you offered me sex to get rid of whatever attraction we’re feeling?” I snorted. “No, even though your abrupt ways are off-putting, I’m not trying to do the dirty with someone I don’t know. When I finally do that, I want whoever it is to actually care about me—” I tensed as I realized something. “Wait a minute. This shouldn’t even be a topic! You’re engaged or have a mate or whatever you want to call it.”
I stopped mid-step. He turned to look at me curiously. The thought of Sabine rushed to my brain. Shit, shit, she would kill me.
“What were you thinking? Sabine is going to kill me. I know I’m reckless sometimes, but I don’t want to die. I just—” He stepped toward me and brought his hand up. It engulfed my mouth, successfully cutting off my babbling. He removed it. “Promise you won’t tell her we—”
He put his hand back on my mouth, muffling the rest of my plea. “I will not tell her if it makes you feel better,” he said with a smirk.
“Why are you smirking! I don’t know if you realized, but your fiancé, mate, whatever, is a bit, you know.” I wiggled my finger around my ear in the universal sign of crazy.
“She has many lovers,” he said mildly. “Our affiliation is beneficial for both of us, but we are free to be with others.”
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I was shocked, to say the least. More so because it seemed like he was trying to… explain himself to me?
“We are also not mates. We were around each other after full maturity, which is the age you must reach to be able to sense your mate as long as there is magic. We call each other mates because it gives a united front to our followers.”
Wow, I guess I should feel complimented that Sabine had felt the need to stake her claim to me. Territorial, much? If only I could understand the relief coursing through my veins…
“You are strong for a human, but this attraction I have for you is unusual. I would like to know more about you,” he said in a low tone, his finger caressing my cheek. I coughed when his light touch sent a tingle through my body.
“Well, I-I just am not comfortable planning to go further with you being the Fae version of attached,” I managed to sputter. “But I’m not opposed to getting to know you. I mean, if you and Sabine have an agreement.”
My words went against every fiber of my being. I definitely didn’t want to “get to know him” while he belonged to someone else. It meant he was still with her. But I didn’t feel like I had any other choice. I needed him to see me as a person. As for these feelings that had been sprouting for him, I wanted to hold them down until they suffocated.
I wished I could say I was faking my attraction to Roark, but unfortunately, I wasn’t. I’d felt the pull toward him since I first saw him. I’d wanted his touch. His smile. His attention. His heart. And that made me the biggest idiot I knew.
Even more because he was already called for.
I hoped my feelings were attributed to the fact that he’d been the only one to show me a mediocre of kindness since this hell started. If that were the case, I seriously needed to reevaluate my standards if I got out of this.
I had told myself that I would make him see me as more than just some human. Now I could see that meant I would have to open up. In doing so, I would be giving him a piece of myself. I just hoped that didn’t bite me on the ass later on.
