Brides of the Kindred

by Evangeline Anderson

  “You’re not stupid.” He cupped her cheek, his hand warm and comforting against her skin. “Naïve, maybe. Inexperienced. But not stupid.”

  “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said a little huffily. “Although, well, I haven’t been with anyone since…since Burke. I just…never felt like I could trust anyone enough again.”

  “That’s understandable. But to me you’re perfect the way you are. Except for this.” The pad of his thumb found her hurt lip and brushed it gently.

  “You can see that?”

  “Kindred night vision is very sharp.”

  Sophie was surprised and a little nonplussed. “All this time I was telling you, I kept thinking how glad I was that you couldn’t see me because of what a mess I am.”

  “Didn’t I just tell you you’re perfect?” His voice was almost stern. “I would offer to heal your lip right now if…”

  “If what?” she asked, feeling her heart begin to pound.

  “You’re upset,” Sylvan said in a low voice. “I’ve reminded you of your attacker once already tonight. I don’t want to make you more upset or to take advantage of your vulnerability.”

  “I told you I’m not afraid of you,” she protested. “In fact I think…I think I’d really like it if you did heal my lip.”

  “You’re certain?” He was already cupping her cheek in one warm hand and turning her toward him.

  “Yes.” Sophie tilted her mouth up to his. “Yes, please.”

  His lips on hers were barely a warm whisper of breath at first. But when Sophie pressed up to him, Sylvan obliged her by taking her mouth more fully. He sucked her bottom lip gently and laved it tenderly with his tongue, then went back to kissing her more fully.

  Sophie moaned softly as she felt the familiar healing tingle. God, a girl could get addicted to this really quickly. His chest was warm and hard and though the feel of his big body against hers was a little scary, he was being careful not to overpower her. His large hand cupping her cheek was so gentle—he touched her as though she was made of fine china and might break at any moment.

  She felt something hard and hot against her thigh and knew it was his shaft but she didn’t even mind. It was just the way it had been after they’d taken the transport tube together—his scent was invading her senses, making her want him, making her forget to mind that they were getting too close too fast.

  Slowly Sylvan’s large hand slid down to cup her breast. He thumbed her nipple lightly through the silky material of the shirt, making Sophie moan hungrily into his mouth. God, his hands on her felt so good, so right…she could almost forget to be afraid. Could almost wish he would never stop. She could feel her pussy getting wet and swollen again and she couldn’t forget the way he’d kissed and licked her there, the feel of his tongue and fingers deep inside her until she came so hard…

  But suddenly, the healing kiss was over and Sylvan was pulling back.

  “Sylvan?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Forgive me.” He let go of her and moved away to sit up. Leaning against the wooden headboard, he put his head in his hands.

  “Forgive you for what?” Sophie moved to sit beside him. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong? Why…why did you stop?”

  “You’re healed aren’t you?” His deep voice was harsh, strained. “Why should I continue?”

  Sophie wrapped her arms around herself and looked away. “I don’t know,” she said in a small voice. “I…I guess I thought maybe you might continue because you, uh, wanted to.”

  “That’s the problem.” He sighed raggedly. “I do want to. I want…want much more than I have a right to,” he finished in a low voice.

  “Oh.” Sophie nibbled her newly healed lip uncertainly. “I…what exactly do you, uh, want?”

  “You’re wet again, aren’t you?” he said, not answering her question. “Hot and wet between your thighs.”

  “I…” Sophie squeezed her legs together. “I can’t help it. And I thought…I thought you said you liked that. You said I was a nu…”

  “A numala,” he finished for her. “I do like it—how wet and hot you get. How your body responds when I kiss you, touch you. But it makes me want…”

  “To…to make love?” Sophie could hear the quiver in her own voice but she couldn’t control it. The one time she’d had sex—before Burke had ruined everything for her—had been fumbling and uncomfortable. She’d been with a guy she’d met at summer camp, whose shaft was about the size of two of her fingers together. If he’d been any bigger Sophie was sure it would have been much worse.

  As for Sylvan…well, she’d seen the size of his equipment. There was absolutely no way he would be able to fit himself inside her. And besides, if he tried he would probably want to be on top of her, biting her. As good as his mating scent smelled, she still wasn’t ready to go there.

  “Not just to make love.” Sylvan’s voice cut into her worried thoughts. “I’m afraid I couldn’t stop at that. Not now.”

  “What…what do you mean?” she whispered, her nerves jumping another notch.

  “I’ve had your blood twice now. Three times, if you count just now when I healed your lip, though you weren’t really bleeding anymore. And I’ve tasted you.” His voice sounded deep and growly in the darkness. It gave Sophie the uncomfortable feeling of sitting beside a wild beast that had been domesticated but still wasn’t quite tame.

  “What does that have to do with it?” she asked, trying to stay calm.

  “It has to do with what my body wants from yours.” He sounded like he was trying to be calm and clinical about it but the growling tone was still in his voice. “Every time I taste your blood or your honey, the connection between us grows stronger. And I want to make it stronger still.”

  “So when you said you don’t just want to make love…?”

  “I want to bond you to me, Sophia.” He turned to face her and she was frightened to see that his eyes were glowing a pale blue in the darkness. “I want to be buried to the hilt in your tight, wet pussy, thrusting long and hard and deep, filling you up, coming inside you over and over to make you mine.”

  Her breath caught in her throat at his graphic words. “You…you do?”

  “Not only that,” Sylvan said in a low voice. “I want to take your blood again and inject my essence into you while I fill you with my seed. That seals the bonding—makes it so no other male could ever take you from me.”

  “You want to bite me.” Sophie felt cold and shaky at the very thought. His big male body covering her, those needle sharp fangs piercing her flesh… it was too awful. “Please, Sylvan, you…you’re scaring me. You promised you wouldn’t.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Not unless you asked me to. And I know that will never be.” A low, frustrated sound came from him, something between a sigh and a snarl. “Don’t worry, Sophia, I am still bound by my vow. And I have no desire to take what you don’t want to give so you’re perfectly safe. It’s just…better if we keep a little distance between us. We’re getting too close to a line neither one of us wants to cross.”

  “You’re right, I guess.” Sophie was glad he was enough of a gentleman to stop himself but she couldn’t help feeling sorry. “I know this will all be over when we get out of here and you won’t…won’t feel anything for me any more,” she said hesitantly. “But I want you to know something, Sylvan. I…I’ve never felt anything like what I feel when you touch me. When you, uh, marked me…” Her cheeks were getting hot and it was hard to get the words out.

  Sylvan was looking at her intently, his eyes still glowing faintly. “Yes?” he murmured.

  “I…I just want you to know that no man has ever…made me feel like that. That kind of…of pleasure.” Sophie looked down at her hands, unable to meet that burning blue gaze. “I’ll never forget it.”

  “Sophia…” He lifted her chin and looked at her seriously. “I’ll never forget it either. The sight of you, lying open for me, the feel of your hands in
my hair, the soft, helpless sounds you make when you come—the way you called my name…Gods!” He closed his eyes briefly and made a soft growl at the back of his throat. “All those things are burned into my memory—into my heart. Forever.”

  Sophie bit her lip. “That’s…that’s good to know.”

  “And if we don’t stop talking about it I’m going to want to do it all over again,” he said roughly. “That and more.”

  She nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Sylvan rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead as though trying to erase some inner tension. “Which is why I think it’s better if I go back to the floor now. Forgive me, but being so close to you is incredibly tempting.”

  Sophie wanted to tell him she found him tempting too but she knew she’d better not. The hungry look in those glowing blue eyes told her she’d pushed things almost past the point of safety already and it was time to stop pushing now.

  “Good night then, I guess,” she whispered, scooting away from him.

  “Good night.” He got off the bed and went back to the rug in front of the fire. “Try to get some rest. We need to try and get to a populated area tomorrow if we can. I don’t know why no one has contacted us yet via Think-me—probably all still busy with the bonding party. But I’m sure by tomorrow they’ll realize we’re missing.”

  Sophie almost asked where he thought the nearest town was but he had already turned over with his back to the bed. It seemed like a pretty strong hint that he just wanted to sleep, so she decided she’d probably better do the same thing.

  But as she closed her eyes, his words wouldn’t leave her head. “I want to bond you to me, Sophia…I want to take your blood again and inject my essence into you while I fill you with my seed.”

  The words formed images in her mind’s eye—images that were both disturbing… and somehow compelling. They kept her awake for a long time and then followed her down into sleep.

  * * * * *

  Sylvan lay on his side, his fists in knots and his jaw clenched, wanting her so badly it hurt. Everything had been all right until that last kiss when he’d felt Sophia responding to him, opening to him. Then his desire for her had gone into overdrive.

  A greedy, hungry lust had exploded inside him, threatening to overcome his better judgment and turn him into a rutting beast. Leaving her on the bed by herself had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but somehow he’d forced himself to pull back before things went too far.

  He knew what the problem was—it wasn’t just that they had formed a connection through blood—although that was certainly part of it. It was the fact that he had tasted her and now his body expected him to take the next step.

  In the course of the usual Kindred claiming period, a warrior had four weeks with his bride during which he was allowed to touch her in different ways. By marking her with his mouth, Sylvan had skipped the holding and bathing weeks and gone straight to the tasting period, the time when he would have been legally allowed to spread her legs and lap her sweet pussy until she came for him every night. And the next step after tasting…was bonding.

  Now every instinct in his stubborn Kindred blood was screaming that she was his, that he had to take the final step and be certain no one else could ever take her away from him.

  I can’t. I took a vow and besides, she doesn’t want that—doesn’t want to be bonded to me. Though, to be honest, she didn’t seem quite as resistant to the idea as she had been earlier.

  Certainly the sex part of the bonding process seemed to scare her a little less, though he could understand why she would be frightened in the first place. That bastard who had raped her…Sylvan fought down the growl that rose in his throat. What was his name? Oh yes, Burke. Burke Simpson.

  Sylvan closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the hurt, broken tone in her soft voice when she’d told him what had happened. She said she just wanted to forget it but Sylvan could tell the experience had scarred her deeply. No wonder she was afraid of males, especially big, aggressive ones. No wonder she’d been so terrified of him the first time he’d tried to mark her. The uncertainty in her lovely eyes, the terror in her voice when he got too close, too quickly could be at least partly laid at her long-ago attacker’s feet.

  Just remembering made Sylvan long to hold her again, to comfort and protect her. But he couldn’t trust himself to be that near her—not at the moment. Instead he fantasized about vengeance.

  Sophia seemed to think that the assault had happened too long ago for anything to be done about it—as if there was a statue of limitations for such reprehensible actions.

  Sylvan disagreed.

  He didn’t care that the attack and threats had taken place long before he met Sophia, didn’t care that she hadn’t even seen the male who attacked her in years. He only knew he had to avenge her pain—to repay the bastard who had hurt her. And he fully intended to do that, even if he had promised not to kill him.

  But I’ll make him wish he was dead. That much I can do.

  The pitch of his anger grew until he was almost trembling with fury. Stop it. This isn’t right—isn’t like me .What’s wrong with me anyway? He took a deep breath and then another, trying to calm down. You have a shadow on your heart…a pain that taints your very existence, whispered a voice in his head. It will draw the darkness to you… Sylvan pushed it away. He couldn’t blame his past for the way he was feeling now. But why was he reacting this way? He’d always been cold, emotionless, logical. Now he was behaving like a beast in rut, eager to demolish anyone who even looked at his beloved the wrong way.

  Beloved…Talana… He shouldn’t have started calling her that in the first place. The endearment was reserved for a Blood Kinded’s bonded mate, not a female he was destined never to have. Even if Sophia could get over her fear enough to let him make love to her, he knew she would never agree to the final step—that of having his fangs buried in her neck at the moment of orgasm. And without blooding her, he could never bond her.

  You could never bond her anyway. Stop wishing for what can never be. Once you get back to the ship and she’s no longer in danger you’ll forget these overpowering emotions, lose this insatiable hunger. You’ll be yourself again.

  But would he really? Deep in his heart, a seed of doubt had been planted. He burned for Sophia—craved her in a way he had never known was possible. Could such a fire really be smothered so easily? But if not, why would the Mother of Life allow such a desire to grow in his heart in the first place?

  Then again, he had desired a female before, had been certain she was supposed to be his, and that relationship had never come to fruition. Feenah’s betrayal was the secret pain the priestess in the sacred grove had spoken of—the anguish he carried with him always. She had wounded him deeply—too deeply to ever recover, or so he’d believed.

  I never felt this for Feenah, though. Never felt like I might die if I couldn’t have her, that I would kill to protect her. What’s wrong with me?

  He didn’t know. He only hoped that once they were back aboard the Mother ship he could find some cure for his madness. Some cure that didn’t involve the impossible—claiming Sophia as his bride.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “The urlich have lost the scent.” Xairn stood before his father’s throne, waiting for the AllFather’s rage. He disliked being the bearer of bad news but he wasn’t willing to delegate the task to another. Not when he knew what the consequences would be. Besides, he had a punishment coming—might as well get it over with. In his experience, the longer his father waited to dole out his brand of sadistic discipline, the worse the torture was in the end.

  But the AllFather surprised him. “I know.” Those glowing red eyes blinked once, calmly, in a way that made Xairn decidedly nervous.

  “I…I thought you’d be displeased. The energy net is damaged beyond repair. So if we don’t take her on the planet’s surface with the transfer beam…”

  “We’ll take her.” There was a certainty in the
AllFather’s voice that tightened Xairn’s stomach. “And when we do, ssshe will pay for the fine chase ssshe’s led usss on.”

  “But how—?”

  “The male with her isss masking her ssscent with hisss own. He’sss claimed her, the fool—or wantsss to, anyway. But he hasss doubtsss. As well he ssshould.”

  Xairn didn’t ask how his father knew such things. The AllFather’s mind was like a dark magnet, drawn to the pain of others and drawing anything or anyone with darkness in them to him. When he focused his vast and malevolent mental powers on any one individual or creature, it wasn’t long before he knew their innermost heart and darkest secrets. All he needed was a window of opportunity. The smallest blight of anger or sorrow, the tiniest shadow on a person’s heart provided a crack he could slip through to sense their conflicting emotions.

  “What are we to do?” he asked, perplexed. “Surely you can’t keep up the thought block around the planet forever? Soon they’ll have contact with the Mother ship again and when the other Kindred learn of their distress, a shuttle will be sent for them at once.”

  “True.” The red eyes blinked again. “I can only keep the block in place a few more hoursss at most. Sssoon the girl will be sssafe aboard their Mother ship—beyond our reach.”

  Xairn frowned. “Have you given up on her then? Is she not the one the prophesy spoke of?”

  “I believe that ssshe isss.”

  “But then—”

  “If we try to take her now, even if the urlich could find her ssscent, the male with her would ruin our plansss. He isss too aggressive now that his rage has risen—even for a pack of our best to take down. Besidesss…” The AllFather shook his head, his shadowy robes billowing with the gesture. “I have changed my mind. I don’t want to take her jussst yet.”

  “But once she’s safe aboard their Mother ship—”

  “Ssshe will not remain there. The Kindred High Council will not allow it. They will sssend her away.”