Unchained Desire

by R. C. Alvarez

“Every damn minute.” He had no idea what he was saying. But it felt so right.

  Lips about to touch hers, he leaned in when a sharp pain struck the center of his palm where it pressed against her skin.

  “What the hell?” He yanked his hand away from her neck to find a red mark shaped like a strange letter C burned into his flesh.

  She stepped away, the pipe in her hand, so pleased with herself for disarming him, holding the metal up like a trophy.

  “Did you do that on purpose?” he demanded, flexing his hand.

  “No idea what you’re talking about.” She attacked. No time to contemplate what just happened. Questions later, then.

  He took the brunt of the impact with an open palm and wrenched the pipe from her. “Fine. Open your wings.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I can’t.”

  “Don’t think. Just do it.” He lunged at her.

  White wings with silver tips exploded from her back. An impressive sight. She met him head on, knocking him on his ass.

  He took a moment to catch his breath as she stood over him, magnificent in her full Nephilim form. Staring was all he could manage, speechless, but proud that she was his.

  He shook his head. No, she didn’t belong to him. So, where the hell had that come from? A prowling thing inside him demanded it be true, that he claim her and protect what was his.

  Damn. He was fucked.

  “Crap.” Half an hour later, Kyria bent over to suck in air. The wings that had been so glorious at first now added a fifty-pound sandbag on her back.

  They got in her way, and her lungs couldn’t get enough air. She just wanted to lie down on the cold concrete floor, but she couldn’t allow herself to get lazy.

  I’ll learn to flash, Dad. And then I’ll come find you. I promise. If only her aching limbs would cooperate.

  “Stand up.”

  “I just need a breather. Please.” God, he must really hate her.

  His rough hand slipped under her chin and lifted her face. “Put your wings away if it helps. You need to build your endurance, but you also need to know your limits.”

  She shut her lids and tried to tuck her wings back under her skin with a thought. Nothing happened. “Oh God.” Her heart lurched as her eyes popped open. “What happens if they won’t go back?”

  “Focus.” Ram frowned. “You have to maintain control of your body at all times. You won’t have time to struggle with this in a battle.”

  Kyria took a deep breath and attempted to pull her wings back into herself.

  According to Val, they were the physical manifestation of her celestial spirit. The holy light of angels and Nephilim, or the dark powers of a demon.

  They’re mine to command. She imagined them as sources of light that could be turned on and off.

  The weight behind her vanished. Surprised, she lost her balance and ended up flat on her face. Landing with a hard thud, she lay there for a moment. Maybe if she didn’t move, he’d think she fainted and let her rest.

  “You’re not fooling anyone.”

  With a resigned sigh, she focused on getting to her feet in a flash and found herself standing without having to move a muscle. She grinned at Ram.

  “Good job. Now try it again.”

  Her father’s training was never this intense. “Are you sure you’re not trying to kill me?”

  Keeping an eye on Ram as she dusted herself off, she pretended to be distracted.

  Then she rushed in for the attack, breathing through every jab and swing of her arm. She palmed two daggers strapped to her thighs, weapons he had given her.

  One in each hand, she struck and deflected Ramiel’s lead pipe. And still it was a struggle to keep up with him. All her muscles aching for relief after only thirty minutes of intense training.

  Supernatural or otherwise, she didn’t stand a chance against those winged demons, or anything else like them.

  The next clashing of blades tore one dagger right from her hand. The sound of metal clattering against cement rang through the air.

  “You’re not paying attention,” Ram said through gritted teeth.

  “Yes, I am.” God, she was stupid. She stepped in for a right-sided jab then twisted around to slice at his other side. He blocked both, but she managed to force him a step backward.

  Though he didn’t say anything, his small nod of approval alleviated some tension in her joints. But she didn’t lighten up.

  As he guided her through other self-defense and escape tactics with her flashing abilities, they became a unit, all fast feet and smooth motion. Two partners moving in sync to create a perfect dance.

  It felt right. Her wings flared out and went in as she commanded. But she still struggled to flash on command.

  When she failed to flash for the tenth time, she grunted in frustration and hit him hard with the pommel of her other dagger. He took the strike to his sternum and twisted her around, hooking his much larger arms around hers and locking their elbows together.

  Her back pressed against his hard chest. Her bottom against his…oh God. Body going still, she paused, her core clenching, wanting something more from the man holding her.

  His hardness nudged her.

  “Focus.” His breath was hot on her skin.

  Allowing any distraction would get her killed. Gritting her teeth, she pulled against his arms, but he had her caged. Opening her wings and knocking him away might work.

  But she didn’t want use to that against him. It might hit a nerve and hurt him in ways she would never do.

  Hooking her right leg behind her, she hit at the back of his knee. They fell forward, but he didn’t release her.

  The nerves in her body exploded, and her lungs froze. Their bodies pressed closer. She twisted to the left, breaking his grip, but he was on her again before she rolled away. Panting, she tilted her head back to stare up into his deep black eyes. Obsidian irises that held the stars and heavens held her as tight as his arms.

  She always thought black was an empty color. But not his eyes. No, there was a fire. Some type of hunger that ignited her own yearning.

  He dipped his head and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. Heat ran down her spine even as chills crawled over her skin. Light-headed and high on the adrenaline rush from sparring, she melted further into him.

  Lips parted, she silently begged for more contact. A full-out moan escaped her.

  He moved up and took full possession of her mouth. It drove her all the right kinds of crazy, and she didn’t fight it.

  Ramiel tasted good, like some type of spice and the strong flavor of his favorite liquor. God, she couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted it all.

  Her fingers twitched, wanting to touch him, but he kept her arms pinned. A cool breeze danced over her skin and floated up her damp shirt, causing goose bumps to crawl across her body. One of his hands slid under her shirt, exposing her skin.

  “Ram…” Was that her voice? So shaky and uncertain. Partially a moan, too. How mortifying. “Ram, please.” More?

  Yes. She couldn’t deny it. She pressed back into his groin as his hips rolled into her. Nerves tightened, and muscles longed for his touch, longed to be claimed by him. She wanted more.

  His grip on her arm loosened enough that she turned, and her hands sought out his skin, hot and tight over muscles that drove her crazy.

  He delved a hand under her shirt, and the cold chains brushed her sweat-slicked skin as he went for her breast.

  Her nipples drew tight and hard, needing his touch. She arched her back and grabbed his head, her fingers threaded through his damp hair.

  He froze, then quickly pulled away as if she had burned him. She fought back a groan of protest, but managed stop herself from begging.

  Why am I so pathetic?

  He turned from her as he adjusted his shirt.

  “I’m sorry. I forget not to touch you.” She crossed her arms over her middle, fingers curling into themselves. “But I don’t understand. You kissed me.” All evid
ence of his passion still there, straining against his jeans.

  His chains rattled as he pushed his hair back. “Sorry.” The word was low and rough.

  His apology caught her by surprise. “What?” She wanted to reach out but kept her hands to herself. “No, don’t be.”

  The jagged edges of each scar across his flesh sent a gnawing chill through her bones. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.” Her face burned, but she refused to shy away or regret admitting how much she liked the kiss.

  Ramiel acted like he might say something, and she waited. Nothing. He turned from her and gathered the supplies he had pulled out for her training.

  “Ram, I want to—” Her new phone interrupted the tense moment with a loud ring. She answered, “Val?”

  “Hey. I came to wake you up, but you were gone from your bed.”

  “Oh yeah, sorry. I’ve been awake for a while now. Training with Ram. Eli’s brilliant idea.” Silence filled the line. “Well, we were just…uh, finishing up. Did you need something?”

  “I’m making breakfast for the kids. Thought you might want some. Afterward, I’ll talk to David and then…”

  Val didn’t need to finish. “Yeah, I’m coming.” She said her quick goodbye then hung up with a huff. “Val wants us to join everyone for breakfast at the bunker.”

  He stomped around the hangar, taking supplies to the old pilot’s lounge. He acted as if she hadn’t said anything. Before she got halfway across the large room, he turned around and walked outside.

  “Ramiel.”

  He ignored her and went to the Jeep, after everything they’d been through in such a short time. She tightened her jaw and ran after him. Just as he was about to climb in on the driver’s side, she gently placed her hand on his leather-clad forearm. “Ram, look at me.”

  He spun around, burning her with his darkest glare. A scorching flush of irritation swept over her skin. And a desire.

  This new state of constant lust was becoming a problem. She needed somewhere peaceful.

  Against her will, the world tilted under her feet. She instinctively tightened her fingers on the sleeve of his jacket. In a single instant, she flashed them away.

  Chapter Twenty

  Regaining her balance, Kyria blinked a few times to shake off the vertigo. Nature still surrounded them, but the hangar was nowhere in sight. After her queasiness diminished, she let go of Ram.

  Both wings had emerged and now rested heavy on her back, but with the adrenaline surging through her limbs, it was easy to carry them. “I flashed.” She spun around, hopping in the air with a flap of her feathers.

  He scowled. “Did you mean to?”

  Her elation deflated. “No. Maybe. I had a thought of getting away.”

  “You have to learn to control it. You don’t want a random thought to fling you to God knows where while an enemy has a hold on you. If your timing is off—”

  “I know. I’ll get myself killed.” Tucking her wings away. Kyria stood straighter. Breakfast could wait. “Did you have a hard time when you first learned?”

  “I was made this way. So, no.” His jaw flexed as he stared off to the rising sun. “It’s more difficult for Nephilim. You’re born as helpless infants.”

  He picked up a smooth rock and flung it to the river yards away. It skipped over the water before disappearing.

  She reached out again, this time gently laying her hand on his stone-hard bicep. “Can we get your wings back?”

  “If God wanted my wings restored, She would have restored them Herself. There’s nothing other than death that can free me. Mine, or the demon’s.”

  Anger burned her gut. “Then we find a way to kill her.”

  He gave her his humorless smirk. The left corner of his mouth twisted with the pull of scars on his face.

  “Don’t add me to your list of projects. You don’t need me. You should head back to Val. It’s time I left, anyway.”

  She stepped in front of him. “I won’t force you to stay, but I still need you to help me learn. I don’t know what I’m doing against demons.”

  “You have the basic skills. Once you get the flashing down, you’ll be fine. Val can help you with that. Just stay on the ranch and away from town.”

  He said that before. It didn’t sound any less ominous the second time. “Why?”

  “Just trust me.”

  Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin. “Where will you go?”

  “I need to restore my strength. I don’t have the freedom to be your security blanket.”

  That stung. “We’re connected. I’m not sure what it means, or how I know, but I…feel like I was sent to you.”

  The intensity in his eyes, the deep pain, revealed the man he used to be, the man he thought was gone. I see you, Ramiel. Reaching out, she touched his wrist right above the chain.

  “I have enough faith to believe you’ll stay for however long you’re needed. For as long as you can, anyway. This isn’t going to get solved in one week. I think you’ll be back, and not just for me.” She held her breath, not sure what she would do if he challenged her. “You’re a protector made from honor and power. She can’t change the core of who you are.”

  He didn’t say anything for a while. A breeze passed between them as they stared at each other in a moment of uncertainty. It was like standing on the edge of a bridge over a dark river. Would she die if she fell? Or would he catch her?

  Ramiel finally moved, turning to take in their surroundings. She did, too, realizing where she had actually taken them.

  Next to the oldest oak tree her father used to plan picnics. They had found the shady spot a few weeks after they’d moved to the ranch. The sound of the river brought back a rush of memories.

  “I spent time with my dad here. Once, he had asked me if I’d ever resented him for the precarious life we led.” She snorted. “I had a little bit, but I’d never admit it to him, not back then.”

  She walked around the tree, shoulders tight with guilt and uncertainty. “He was my whole world. I always obeyed him and made sure my mother’s life, and his effort to protect me, weren’t wasted.”

  How much of that is even true?

  The southern live oak once shaded a large area. Now its limbs were bare, like a large dark skeleton reaching for the sky.

  It’s dying. She reached for it.

  Ramiel stepped up behind her. “Heal it.” His rough demand brushed against her skin, creating goose bumps.

  “I think you’re overestimating my ability, Ram.” Her hands burned. She wanted to flee to the bunker, or back to the hangar into a world that only she and Ram had occupied, with no memories or dead things that needed healing.

  “You’re the one that said you had faith. You’re a healer. If you can learn to control your wings, using that healing power inside you should be easy.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t—I can’t. Dad is out there. And I’d be here just playing around with trees.” She found it difficult to breathe. Training with Ramiel had been a distraction. But now the frantic need to know if her father was okay came flooding back. “I need to talk to Val.”

  “I know you’re frustrated that we can’t find your father. But if hell taught me one thing, it’s patience.”

  Dead leaves crunched under his boots. Then he enveloped her with the warmth of his large body, reaching around with his free arm to place his scarred hand over hers.

  “This isn’t a waste of time. When they find your father and bring him back, I might not be here to help him. But your powers could fix him. So, breathe into your core. Take the power in your soul and pass it into the tree.” Calloused fingers caressed her knuckles.

  His words embraced her and banished the panic. With her heart hitting her ribs so hard, her breathing skipped around like a wild cat. Healing thoughts. Life. Growth. Buds opening.

  Ram’s jaw brushed against her cheek. A soft moan broke the silence. Oh, God it came from her. She broke out in sweat again, despite the biting cold.
She couldn’t think of anything but him.

  “Look. There.” The chains rattled as he pointed to a little green twig trying to grow on the mess of a tree wanting to die.

  “Finish it,” he whispered against her skin.

  Excitement rushed through her veins. She imagined it like a bouquet of flowers, funneling her energy on connecting to the thread of life in the dying tree.

  As the tree pulled at her, she leaned further into Ram’s body, absorbing the vibrations that radiated from his muscle. Heat climbed from her core to her cheeks. She hoped he didn’t notice.

  Too late. He squeezed her hand. Her nerves tingled to the point of pain. An arch of her back didn’t ease the ache.

  His breath quickened against her ear, but he didn’t move or say a word.

  She braced herself, tension building. So close. A part of her wanted to stop, but she had to complete this. Ramiel believed in her.

  “Hold steady.” His grip on her hand tightened. “I’ve got you.”

  Closing her eyes, Kyria brought back memories of her childhood. The people she cared about. All the reasons she had to hold it together long enough to finish.

  The image of Ram at the bar where they met filtered through. Him saving her from the demons. Holding her as they fell. Him with the orphans. He was beautiful, his life force so strong.

  Behind her lids, a soft glow of light blossomed. Heat spread where she held her hands against rough bark. Her power surged, but it wasn’t enough.

  Images of Ram possessing her filled her mind, his hands on her torso, sliding up toward her breasts. What would it be like if they were completely skin to skin? If they created something together? The essence of life flowed between them. Joining them in a way nothing else ever could.

  Rough skin of the oak tickled her fingers. The wood groaned. Roots creaked beneath her feet. Branches whispered, spreading out to blanket the reviving flesh of the tree. She opened her eyes to watch vibrant green spread from a single leaf. The tree woke up as if from a long slumber and stretched up into the blue sky above.

  Kyria forgot the cold Texas breeze for a moment as the power of life burst through her. Tilting her head back against Ram’s chest, she laughed.