A wicked grin tickled across the child’s face.
He approached slowly, holding himself in check. Bellezza wanted him to see those things, wanted him to suffer. Not Alexia. Reacting would only reward and incite her.
He delved deeper into her chocolate eyes. The fury smoldering behind her glare was meant for men, or a man—one she couldn’t reach, one she feared above all.
“Stop reading me!” Bellezza’s fingers flexed like claws, her brows low, body poised to spring on Alexia like a ravening lioness.
He inhaled, the weight around his neck lifting with his chest. The pendant might be able to stop her if she decided to attack, but he didn’t want to hurt her.
So much hate. So much pain. He ached for the child, for all she’d suffered. Had she ever known love?
And at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to toss her tiny carcass out the window for even contemplating harming Alexia.
Corralling the overwhelming instinct, he extended a hand. The best he could do was show her a different world, one where she didn’t have to fear, one where she could thrive in her gifts and become a civilized being.
He glanced at the balcony, out into the moonless night. How much time did he have?
Kiren cleared his throat. “I see your irons can no longer hold you.”
The skin about her wrists was healed, no longer charred black from the manacles she’d carried for decades. She wore a choker with a ruby stone, likely to cover the healing flesh.
He’d never witnessed it before—one of the Passionate so powerful they could conquer the dead weight of iron shackles. She was strong, so much stronger than she knew. If only he could help her use that strength for worthy purposes.
He smiled. “Good for you.”
Bellezza’s lip pulled up in a snarl, but the question hung in her eyes: Does he really mean that?
He nodded, holding her glare.
Her shoulders relaxed inward, limbs trembling as she blinked repeatedly. Her head tilted. You really meant to free me? To grant my wish? To make me strong enough that no one will chain me again?
Once more he nodded, adding a proud grin she couldn’t misinterpret. “You are exceptional, Bellezza.”
Her eyes widened. Hope sprouted behind them, a tentative plant pressing through desert soil that had oppressed its growth for too long—but he couldn’t read the direction it tilted.
He asked, “What do you want now?”
Her hands writhed over one another before falling to her sides, determination in the set of her shoulders. “Sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary?” He scrutinized her. After inciting a war with the Soulless and slaying dozens of noblemen in the most brutal manner, she couldn’t possibly mean to align herself under his command. Then again, perhaps she hoped an allegiance would spare her.
The answer hovered in her eyes: A man stood before her at the doorway of a thatched-roof house, grinning greedily as golden coins fell into his palm from the stranger outside. She’ll be perfect for breeding. ...Hours later the man chased after her, a red-hot firebrand in his gloved hand, his screams echoing after her as she misted into the trees: You belong to me. You are mine, mia bella!
Her eyes widened, then tightened. I want to destroy them. You can give me that? “Sanctuary.”
He neared a step. Never could he condone the cold blooded murder she desired, but since she’d launched this war between Passionate and Soulless, they would either have to reconcile the different agendas among the Passionate or succumb to their enemies. He had been working toward that union a long time. She’d destroyed all hopes of bringing it about peacefully, and all that remained was war. If she wanted to be a soldier, indeed she would prove an invaluable ally—but only if she could take orders.
“Sanctuary.” He nodded slowly. “You know the rules.” Rules she had learned and flouted when she abandoned her prison and started the war. “One more offense and you will be tossed into the deepest prison.”
Bellezza’s brow twitched. She bit back a snarl and curtsied. “Hail, o mighty king.”
He shook his head. “I will meet you outside.”
She growled, stormed forward, and brushed past him with a snort. He listened as her near-silent footsteps distanced, gradually fading to nothing.
Kiren turned to his beloved. She blinked up at him from the floor, starlight streaking her raven curls and illuminating the pale cotton of her nightgown. His own angel.
Her gaze traveled up his body to meet his.
Kiren’s breath caught.
The thriving green of her stare carried him to the heart of a youthful jungle, entwining his limbs with thick vines, trapping him in the heart of need. Her pink lips pressed together, and he wanted nothing but to possess them.
Alexia pushed off the floor, slipped on the hem of her nightgown, and flailed forward.
He caught her, startled by how sheer the fabric was between his fingers and her warm skin. He set her on her feet, curling an arm about her back, unwilling to let her go and lose the sudden electricity tingling through him. She set him on fire, every nerve, every heartbeat. He inhaled her ambrosia scent and trailed his fingers down her blushing cheek, aching to satisfy this craving for her, to kiss away all sense and reason, to tear down the few barriers that stood between their complete union.
She met his gaze.
“Hello,” he whispered and kissed her cheek, tasting the amber-pomegranate of her skin. Only a month ago he thought he’d lost her, again, and during these three days apart, every second had been torture.
She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her.
“Slow down, love.” Curling his fingers around her waist, he pushed her away. She held tighter, and he smirked.
Alexia lifted her stubborn chin. “Where have you been? Why have you not sent word?”
He froze, unwilling to lie to her yet afraid to overwhelm her with rumors of a rising threat, one he’d been unable to verify. She still knew so little of their world.
Her fingers squeezed at the back of his neck, head tilting. “What has happened?”
He glanced away, certain she could see the answer in his eyes: Trouble. Pulling her hand from around his neck, he kissed her fingers. “I do not like being away from you.”
Her brows pleated. “I do not like you being away from me either.” Her grip over his shoulder tightened, dragging his attention back to her pale lips and begging eyes. She pushed up on the balls of her feet, stretching for his touch.
Kiren leaned down, aimed toward her waiting lips, unable to resist a moment longer. But if he lingered too long... He caught both her arms firmly, halting her where her ragged breath teased his aching mouth. “We need to go.”
“No.” She shook her head and winced.
“You are hurt.”
“Not as badly as you will be if you continue to deny me.”
He chuckled. “One kiss.” Lifting her jaw, he guided her to him and captured her mouth, savoring the warmth, the calm glow that accompanied her touch—like a welcoming fire after weeks of blinding white blizzard.
Kiren pulled back. She threw her arms around his neck with force, dragging him down to her. He toppled forward.
She giggled against his lips. He chuckled with her, holding her safely against him as he slammed into the mattress with one hand. He lowered her safely to the surface. Her passion cut through him like a torch to snow, melting away all resistance. His entire body heated, charged. Primal need surged through his veins. He gripped the sides of the bed, fighting to hold himself in check.
She grabbed his waistcoat and yanked him toward her. Barriers tumbled, like a crumbling wall. White burst behind his eyes, the space opening up between them, their shared mental space, the place of merging and her recent dream...
A dark form huddled on the other side of her locked door. The knob turned.
Alexia pushed up in her bed, heart pounding.
The door flew open. A black shape leapt through the shadows. She twisted to esca
pe.
Fingers crushed down on the back of her skull. She couldn’t breathe!
He pulled back, his breath ragged, fists clenched. He reminded himself it was only the memory of her nightmare, that she’d survived and he had no cause to charge after Bellezza and make her suffer.
Alexia’s chin tilted up after him, eyes falling open but lost in a wash of desire.
She gasped, hands exploring the mattress below her, furrowed brows straightening as her mouth dropped open. Shock and embarrassment filled her stare. Heat radiated off her cheeks, eyelids lowering demurely as she swallowed.
Kiren followed the movement of her lashes as they pointed him back to her vulnerable lips. Two voices screamed in his head: one that remembered danger lurked on the horizon, and the louder one that growled to be appeased.
He lifted himself a couple inches. “You should not place yourself completely at my mercy.”
She caught the collar of his waistcoat, her pupils dark and wide. “But mercy is your strongest virtue.”
Did she have any idea how difficult she was making this for him? He groaned and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “This is not the kind of mercy heaven would smile upon.”
She swallowed and he traced the movement with a finger.
“You have been dreaming again,” he said.
“And you are prying.”
He opened his mouth and closed it. It was true. She had asked him not to intercept her thoughts, but he couldn’t stop it from happening when so intimately connected. He put a little more space between them.
Alexia looked away. “You promised you would not—”
“Sorry.” But he wasn’t. If she was withholding vital information, he must know. “You did not think it important to tell me you are dreaming again?”
“Only one dream.” Twice. She scowled. And how am I supposed to tell you anything when you are dazzling me?
He smirked, one eyebrow peaking. “I dazzle you?”
She pushed against his chest and rolled out from under him. Kiren moved an arm and let her go, although it took all his self-control. She moaned and sat up, holding her head.
He sat next to her. “Love?”
She lifted a hand.
Scooting closer, he massaged the back of her neck. Only a month ago the Soulless had ambushed them in this estate after he’d been shot by John while attempting to rescue Sarah. Alexia had fought the Soulless off, using her gift to slow time until it nearly killed her. He had yet to forgive himself for being so vulnerable, for allowing her to save him at such a high cost. She would recover, eventually, if she would just stop using her gift.
He closed his eyes and probed. Her tender cerebellum pulsed, swelling as it had right after the incident. Kiren groaned, wishing he could heal it completely. He never wanted her to suffer, to experience the pain he was directly responsible for bringing into her life. The best he could do was soothe her physical aches.
Cells throbbed under his touch, ripe for his command. He summoned blood flow through the region and a release of endorphins while reshaping damaged cells. Strength seeped through his fingers, fueling her remedy.
“Should I wonder what else you have been dreaming?” He kept his tone light, but the question weighed on them both.
“Why?” She looked up. “What are you afraid I have seen?”
He smiled sadly, wishing he could tell her everything; that he didn’t have to withhold some secrets for now. He brushed her cheek and she winced. Redness he’d mistaken for a blush spotted her cheekbone. He flattened his palm across it and ordered the cells to replicate, relinquishing another dose of his own energy.
He nudged her chin up. “I will not leave your side again.”
She grinned, her emerald stare narrowing around dark pupils. “Is that a promise?”
Do not look at me that way, Alexia. His own need for her was difficult enough to stave, but to combat hers as well?
He inhaled a calming breath. She shifted and light twinkled off the chain around her neck. He touched the golden ring it bore, a coral diamond center with five teardrop petals, his vow to her. Her father, Charles, didn’t approve of them. He believed the Passionate to be cursed, destined for tragedy, but he had agreed on this one point: Kiren protect her as no other.
Kiren traced the chain and she trembled beneath his touch. He grinned, loving her reaction. Unclasping the necklace, he teased the glittering snake until it surrendered her ring and slipped it onto her finger.
Alexia grasped his hands. “What if Father sees?”
“I intend that he shall.”
She seized his shoulders, seeking his eyes. “You convinced him?”
Kiren bit down, keeping the grin plastered on his face.
“This is wonderful!”
Oh, that it could be as wonderful as she believed. He wished he could share in her rejoicing, but he would not taint her happiness with the truth. Not yet.
He released her, gaze bouncing down her thinly veiled form. He quickly averted his attention. “Please, dearest, you must put something on. We need to leave.”
She reddened and hugged herself. Kiren rose and escaped to the hall.
Three
Breeders
Two quiet shadows raced toward the manor house, cutting through the woods and dodging branches. Elizabeth glanced at her companion, snorting at his wild hair and too-short legs as he stumbled and nearly tripped on a protruding root. They could make this journey so much faster on horseback, but the dwarf was far too jittery around animals, plus he might crush the creature on accident with those massive, too-strong hands.
She grinned wickedly into the night, brushing the leaves away from her famous auburn locks. He was just the kind of ally she needed on this mission: to capture and return the young woman who could alter time before the leader of the Kingdom faction stood between them.
She hoped the leader had returned. She’d never had a reason to attack him, but she’d always wondered if he would fall under her power.
Red Pain they called her. She loved the title. Let anyone challenge her and she would launch an attack on their minds that could cripple an elephant.
She glanced up at the moonless sky, hoping the Soulless had not arrived before them.
Four
Choosing
Despite Kiren’s mending, every movement set off a twinge of pain as Alexia tucked into a corset, stomacher, and fastened her petticoats. She silently wished she had a domestic to assist her, as the process would go much smoother, but she’d been playing the role of a servant since returning to Father’s home.
No one knew her secret. Father (a prominent country baron) maintained that his daughter had “fallen prey to wolves” last winter when she disappeared. He had dressed her as a domestic, allowing people to believe her presence a boon of charity, nothing more.
And she never should have had that much.
Alexia retrieved a single black hairpin from her bureau, examining it in the starlight before tucking it over her neckline, right over her heart.
Dana’s gift.
She wasn’t sure if its placement was correct.
Dana had been but a child when she and Father fell in love, but that love resulted in the death of Alexia’s grandparents, the destruction Father’s marriage, and his broken heart. Only Kiren, she, and Father knew he’d sired a child out of wedlock with his Passionate mistress who then died in childbirth. Alexia had been raised by Rosalind, Father’s now-dead wife—a woman who’d selflessly claimed the babe for her own. The sorrow eventually killed her surrogate mother.
Alexia missed the quiet woman with her perfect poise, flaxen tresses, and admonishing looks. She never said a word, merely led and expected to be followed. Rosalind should have sent Alexia to be with her kind instead of sacrificing her own heart day in and day out. At least then Father would have avoided that terrible raid on his home...
She hugged herself against a tremor, unwilling to remember.
It was good that one of her Passion
ate friends possessed the power to alter people’s memories, to erase the midnight wraiths still flitting through her conscience. Edward took away the servants’ terror. Not hers. Not Father’s. They remembered everything, and Father blamed Kiren.
She sighed and pulled on her baby-blue overdress.
Well, she blamed Father for arranging her marriage to a rapist, the bargain that drove her away in the first place. At least the miscreant still believed her dead.
Alexia laced her shoes quickly and exited to the hall, her vision adjusting to the dark, portrait-filled walls. Her favorite painting waited just across from her, two young ladies with dark hair reclining against a forested backdrop, she and Sarah as children.
Sarah who was lost to her.
“Kiren?”
He shifted to her right, propped against a doorframe. His eyes glittered, even in the dark.
“A thousand years could sweep this earth clean and I would never meet a sight as breathtaking,” he whispered.
She blushed. “Is that how long you have been alive?”
His jaw clenched.
She understood their kind could live indefinitely if their blood was not deluded by humanity—which meant she had no idea how long she’d live. Or him. How many times had she asked him about his age, and he avoided giving her a solid answer? She would discover the answer one day, when he finally allowed her in entirely. It was just one of the truths she intended to pry loose from his mind once they were married. Before, if possible.
Alexia took his outstretched hand. His fingers laced through hers, skin on skin—terribly inappropriate, at least within society. She had no idea what the Passionate labeled appropriate, but this overwhelming bond—being destined or damned—rendered their kind inseparable. His death would mean hers, as hers would result in his. Since he led the world of the secret Passionate, it made both their lives more complicated—especially when considering the vast army of enemies conspiring against him. Her love for him was simple. His came at a great cost.
Soulless (Maiden of Time Book 2) Page 2
