by Nashoda Rose
“How? How could he do this to you?” His voice was raspy and cracked, as if the words were trapped in his throat and he had to force them out. “Jesus, Delara. If you had died….” He leaned closer, his lips a breath away from my cheek. “Please, I beg of you, live. Hold on for me, baby. Zurina is coming.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, but a few strands stuck to my face, and based on the scent it was from the dried blood.
“No one will ever harm you again. I swear this to you, maitagarri.”
His warmth radiated from him and a gurgled sigh escaped my lips. “Waleron,” I murmured. “How… are you… alive?” I coughed again and blood spurted from my parted lips, dripping down my chin.
“Shhh.” The pad of his thumb wiped the blood away.
“What happened—”
He placed his finger on my lips. “Do not speak. Please.”
I coughed again and from the amount of blood that sprayed from my mouth and nose, I knew it wouldn’t be long.
He squeezed my hand. “I will never let you go. Understand me. Never.” He kissed my temple and across my brow. “You will not die.”
But I was dying, and I was ready. I’d die in his arms, the only place I ever wanted to be.
“No!” he growled, as if he’d read my thoughts.
God, I wanted so badly to touch him. Hold him.
Our eyes met and in the ice-blue depths of his I saw fear hovering. But Waleron didn’t fear anything.
“You will not die. I won’t let you,” he ground out.
“So… long… you were gone. I felt… you.” I tried to whisper the words, but they came out broken and harsh. “Cold… I’m….” Why was I so cold again? I coughed and swallowed the bitter iron taste of blood. “So cold.” My vision faded and I struggled to inhale a breath.
He tucked his jacket in around me. “Zurina is near. A few more minutes.”
There was an intense burning in my chest as I dragged in air. But it wasn’t enough.
Suffocating in my own blood.
I glanced one more time at the man I loved then closed my eyes, my head sagging to the side, my hand limp in his.
“No!” he roared. “No, goddamn it. You can’t leave me. Do you understand me? Fight, baby. Fight, and I swear I will find a way to protect you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”
My last thought was that it was odd hearing Waleron swear. A car door slammed, then running footsteps.
Then nothing.
“Heal her. Now!” I shouted at Zurina as she and Jedrik ran toward me.
Zurina knelt beside Delara, cat-like charcoal eyes sweeping over her massacred body. “Her lungs are filled with fluid.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I ground out the words, unable to even comprehend the reality of what was happening. Delara had to live. “Heal her lungs first.”
She lowered her head, sitting back on her heels, hands resting on her thighs. “Waleron, it’s too late. She’s beyond healing. I’m sorry. I cannot save her.”
“No!” My roar ripped from my throat, so loud the sparrows took flight from the trees. “You’re a Healer. Her heart still beats. She will live.”
Zurina sighed, reaching out to touch my forearm, then deciding at the last second not to touch me. “I’m not strong enough to heal her wounds. They’re too severe and I’m weak after healing you in the Realm.” Resignation. There was fuckin’ resignation in her voice. “This is Tarek’s doing. His image came to me the moment I stepped from the car. I suspect he doesn’t know she lives.” Her eyes trailed down Delara’s body. “He meant for her to die.”
“Well, he failed.” I held Delara’s hand, feeling her weakening pulse, and my own pulse slowed with it. We were connected in every way, and her death would kill any sanity I had left. “She will live.”
Zurina shuffled back on her knees, her jeans wet from the ditch. “It’s too late. Please, Waleron, allow me to put her in DS and let her go in peace.”
My eyes snapped to hers. “Never. You will save her,” I ordered, and grabbed Zurina’s wrist, forcing her hand over Delara’s chest. “Take the fluid from her lungs. Now!”
Zurina jerked back when her palm touched Delara’s body, her face paling. As a Healer, she’d envision Delara’s pain and the images of what had happened to her. After healing me in the Realm, it was a lot for her to take in.
Christ, how long had she been lying in this ditch? Why? Why would Tarek, a Scar, do this?
“Think of what you ask,” she said, her voice unsteady. “It will be days of healing and she can’t survive DS. She may never heal and could slip away after intense suffering. I would not want that for any of us.” Zurina’s eyes closed and she inhaled a deep breath. “Please, Waleron, reconsider. You’re not thinking clearly. Let her go.”
Was it too late? Was Zurina right and I was going to cause Delara more suffering? Zurina had never hesitated to heal any of us. Could she be right?
I shook my head. “No, I’ve given my oath to protect her. I will not break it. Ever. You will save her at all costs.”
Zurina’s lips pursed and eyes narrowed. “Your oath is to the Scars and your mother and more importantly, to the Goddess Azzurra. This woman cannot surpass that. Let her go, Waleron. Please, I beg of you.”
My gaze landed on Delara and I felt her heart struggle to take its next beat. Or maybe its final beat.
But let her go? No, it was impossible. Losing her would be like taking out my heart and throwing it in the pit of hell. No. Delara must live, even if I could never have her. She had to remain on this Earth with me.
“Waleron.” Jedrik stepped closer and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Delara wouldn’t want…. Frig, you know I love her more than anything, but maybe it’s best—”
My eyes snapped to Jedrik and he quickly let me go and stepped back.
I glared at Zurina. “Save her. I will not ask again.”
“I won’t put her through the suffering. It’s not right.” Zurina went to back away, but I grabbed her arm with such force she cried out.
I didn’t know why she was so adamant about refusing to heal Delara, and right then I didn’t give a fuck. “I’m not asking any longer, Zurina.”
She waited for several seconds before finally giving a solemn nod.
I released her and took Delara’s hand in mine.
“Her pain will be great,” Zurina warned. “And I fear not all of her will heal.”
I nodded. Holding Delara while Zurina healed her meant I too would feel and see what had happened to Delara. “Do it now.”
Zurina lowered her hands over Delara’s chest and her palms slowly burned bright red as she closed her eyes, a soft hum emerging from her lips.
The visions and pain struck me hard and fast.
Tarek pushing her down the stairs. His fists pummeling into her like a punching bag. Dragging her across the floor by the hair and smashing her head into a marble table. The snap of bone as Tarek twisted her arm.
A low growl emerged from my chest, like that of a wounded animal, and my grip on Delara released as my body convulsed and stomach heaved.
I staggered to my feet.
“Waleron?” Jedrik called.
Stumbling out of the wet ditch, I fell to my knees on the gravel shoulder beside the car, one hand leaning on the front tire for support.
“Whoa, you okay?” Jedrik asked as he came up behind me. “Christ, maybe you should—”
“Fuck off!” I growled, then threw up on the side of the road.
THE HOLLOW SOUND OF MY boots on the hardwood floor reminded me of a man walking the plank. I felt like that unfortunate soul, hands ruthlessly tied behind my back—rage, anger, fear, and vulnerability all pulsing through me like an out-of-control wildfire.
I had been this way since Tarek’s trial seven days ago.
Delara’s recount of what happened had ripped through my body like a serrated knife and it took everything I had not to kill Tarek in front of the Wraiths. The fuckin’ guy just stood there. Not even a hint
of remorse.
Zurina had risen from her seat when my Ink slithered across my neck, red eyes blazing. The Four Wraiths waited apprehensively around the oblong marble table, watching me, ready to use their elemental powers if necessary.
However, it was Delara’s telepathic words and her serenity that reached through my black rage and kept me from going against the Deaconry’s law and killing Tarek with my bare hands.
“He is not worth your life. Please, Waleron. I can’t lose you again.”
My glare shifted from Tarek to her and I was met with a half smile accompanied by a diminutive shake of her head.
She sat in front of the Deaconry, consisting of the four elementals—Tor, Edan, Genevieve, and Urtzi—the witch Mariana, and two Taldeburus, Zurina and myself.
Delara’s hands were beneath the table, so I was unable to see them, but they were most likely pinching her thighs like she always did when upset.
There were black half-moons beneath her coffee eyes and tears pooled in the rims. Delara was pale and trembling, but after Zurina’s several-days-long healing, her body had recuperated physically.
But she hadn’t healed emotionally. She blamed herself for what happened and I hated that she’d been beaten down so much that she felt that way. Tarek had done that to her.
When it was Tarek’s turn to speak, I cast my vote for him to be executed and Traced from the council room. There was no chance I’d be able to listen to his lies and not kill him.
It was several hours later when I heard they’d voted Tarek be put into Rest for twenty years instead of execution.
Genevieve told me it was Zurina who had swayed the vote and gone against me.
Zurina was a Healer and had sympathy for others. I didn’t.
After destroying my room in the Realm, I walked the corridors for hours. Even the involuntary calm that one experienced in the Realm had failed to appease my darkness and rage.
When my Ink finally calmed, I Traced from the Realm to the Talde house in Toronto.
And now here I was, striding down the hallway toward her.
I stopped outside her door, hand tight around the doorknob.
Jesus, why the hell was I here? It was selfish and wrong.
I’d kept my distance for seven days. Seven fuckin’ days of hell.
She made me vulnerable to my Ink and the rage it had fed on for the last sixty-one years. It was a risk to see her and yet, I had no choice. I needed to.
I didn’t knock. Delara was a Tracker and would’ve scented me the moment I Traced into the Talde house.
I opened the door, walked in and shut it with the heel of my boot.
My eyes instantly found her on the far right side of the room, leaning against the wall, her serrated blade held out in front of her.
“Put the knife down, Delara.”
She hesitated, then placed it on the nightstand beside her. She tilted her chin up and crossed her arms over her chest.
She was mad that I’d been avoiding her, but mostly confused and hurt. I’d saved her life, been there while Zurina healed her over several days, and then when she woke, I left.
I had to. Fuck, there was no choice in us, and yet, I had to find a way to break us. End the bond that couldn’t be broken.
God, but look at her. I needed to be with her just once before I gave her up for all time. Didn’t we deserve that after what we’d both been through? Could I be with her one time and walk away? Could I take that chance?
Did I have a choice? Every single inch of me was already in her arms, holding her, kissing her, devouring every inch of the body that was mine and mine alone.
Unquestionably, the road I was about to take would haunt me for all time, but I needed her. One night would be worth everything.
My control fell into the depths of a black abyss and I cursed, knowing that this would be the death of me. She’d be the death of me.
Just once, to ease the pain that sat like an anchor on my heart. What heart? My Ink owned it now. I’d sacrificed myself for freedom, and now I was forced to live in a tomb of numbness.
Zurina had given me the pills when I sat at Delara’s bedside waiting for her to gain consciousness. She’d told me the pills would help keep my Ink contained, but would still allow me to Trace. She’d warned me that if I stopped them, my Ink would take over and I’d be lost to its power.
“Waleron?” Delara questioned in that sweet husky voice I craved.
It was memorized. Engraved. Stamped on my mind for all time. I’d hungered every day for sixty-one years to hear my name pass her plush lips. “Why are you here?”
Did I have an answer? I had before I’d opened the door and seen her. My reaction compelled me to her like a magnet.
“Why?” Delara asked, her voice restrained.
Fuck, she was mad and had every right to be, after I’d left her the second she woke.
Words eluded me, a definite first. How did I tell the woman I loved that I wanted to fuck her, but it would be the last time?
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
Delara tilted her head to the side, her nose scrunching, and I knew she was attempting to scent what I was feeling. A Reflector would’ve been able to tell as soon as I entered the room, but Delara was a Tracker, able to track others by their scent, so emotions were not as easy for her. I could mask my emotions from a Tracker, however, I wanted Delara to feel my desire.
When it hit her, she stumbled back, the backs of her legs hitting the wooden frame of the bed. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped.
“Waleron,” she whispered, breathless.
Her voice caressed my name like honey. It was the voice I’d clung to all the years I’d been imprisoned.
My control snapped.
It took six strides to reach her. I heard her gasp just before I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her small frame against me.
Her eyes were wide and uncertain, heart beating erratically to match my own. She trembled.
There was nothing gentle about me right now. It was too late to stop. Too late to do anything but take what I wanted and hold the one woman who had melted the ice around my heart so many years ago.
One night.
My fingers tightened on her slender neck.
She sensed it.
What was to come.
My fingers curled in her hair to make certain she didn’t look away from me.
“Once,” I said. I needed her to know that this was all I could give.
Her chest rose and fell against mine. “I don’t understand. Why—”
“It’s all I can give.” I needed her to agree. “Once, Delara.”
She rested her palm on the cage of my heart. A single tear traced down her cheek and my willpower to wait until she agreed vanished. “Waleron,” she whispered.
Swooping her up in my arms, I tossed her on the bed and lowered on top of her.
Nestled between her thighs, I fought the urge to rip off her clothes and sink my cock into her hard and fast. But each touch, each look into her eyes, every kiss and thrust, had to be savored and cherished.
Her arm rose and then her fingers caressed my cheek, a feathered touch that had my cock straining against my cargo pants.
“Impossible,” I muttered.
I slammed my mouth down on hers and all control broke. Fierce. Bruising. Driven by starving need.
Maitagarri. My beloved.
Her sweet, satin tongue met mine and I groaned low in my throat. My hands slid up her arms and curled around her wrists, dragging them above her head.
“Let me touch you,” she begged.
She tried to pull free, but I tightened my grip. “No, maitagarri. I cannot.” I ground my cock into her pelvis and she arched into me.
Fuckin’ beautiful.
“I missed you,” I murmured as I trailed kisses down her neck. “Every single second, I missed you.” I shouldn’t have said the words, it would only damage us later, but I needed her to know.
Her body sagged and I ca
ught the choked sob in her throat.
“Baby,” I said, just before I took her mouth once more.
Every touch, every kiss, sob, breath, it was our last. We could never do this again.
“Please,” Delara begged, tilting her neck as I nuzzled the soft flesh behind her ear. “Let me go,” she said.
Never sat on the tip of my tongue. But I had to purge her from my heart.
“I will let you go, Delara.” But the words meant far more than releasing her wrists.
With wild frenzy I tore off her shirt and pants, then mine, needing to feel her naked skin against me.
The moment our skin met, my breath stilled and I groaned. It was a high. Like an addict being sated after years and years of denial.
Her arm looped my neck, dragging my mouth to hers again. “Kiss me. I need you to kiss me again,” she said.
I kissed her. Fuck, I kissed her and drank her into me as if it were the last drink I’d ever have.
Our hands were all over one another, rough, hard, slow, teasing. It was the melding of bodies that had been starved for one another.
My mouth trailed kisses across her neck, down her chest to her nipples. Sucked and teased one, then the other, teeth biting the delicate nubs until she cried out, then soothing them again with my wet tongue.
I watched her while I did it. Her eyes were closed, cheeks flushed, and mouth open as she panted beneath me.
I lifted above her and stopped. Stopped everything as I stared at her. That first moment I’d seen her smile, I’d known she was mine.
Delara had always been mine.
A love crucified.
That’s what we were.
Her hands gripped my shoulders to pull me toward her, but I resisted. “Please,” she cried, eyes spangled with desire.
Jesus, she was beautiful. A deep groan emerged from the back of my throat and I took her erect nipple into my mouth again. There was no softness as my teeth nipped, teased, and suckled what I’d been denied for so long. Every inch of my body was in flames, coldness dissipating from my veins, her passion feeding me life.
I kissed across her stomach, my hands on her hips to keep her still as I explored every crevice of her body, tasting the sweetness and smelling her delicious scent that I’d dreamed about for over a half century.
