Protector of the Flame

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Protector of the Flame Page 17

by Isis Rushdan


  “Your error in judgment has decimated my plan and put us all in great peril. Now, I must make preparations for contingencies that should not have been necessary.”

  “It was unavoidable,” he said, defiant certainty resonated.

  “Pray my neutrality holds, for it’s all that keeps death from my doorstep.” Neith’s shoulders relaxed, face resuming her emotionless façade. “Do you need food or water?”

  “The others could use something.” Cyrus looked at Serenity. “For now, I only need to speak with my wife in private.”

  “Serenity, would you like to use my office or would the accommodations of your room be adequate?”

  “My room is fine.” The ache to rip off his clothes and have him deep inside of her pounded in every cell of her body, rushed through her blood, heated her skin.

  “Very well. Sothis will help me ensure the others are seen to properly.”

  Serenity led Cyrus by the hand through the crowd, which now parted easily. They interlaced fingers and proceeded up the walkway. She expected him to glance around as she’d done when first arriving, but his gaze remained fixed on her.

  Her energy stream bubbled and sloshed. Connected to his, their reciprocal flow invigorated. Unable to wait until they were behind closed doors to touch his lips, her mouth gravitated toward his.

  The sweetness of his breath made her sigh in his mouth. When she opened her eyes, blue-white threads of electricity flowed between them.

  She caressed his weary face, soaking in the sight of him. He looked like a military soldier in his black fatigues and combat boots.

  His mouth curled into the sexiest grin, dark eyes flickering sapphire. “Where is your room?” he groaned.

  Holding hands, they hurried up to the second floor. She led him down the hall of her sector to her tiny room.

  Once inside, he kicked the door closed and cupped her face. He thrust his tongue into her ravenous mouth and lapped at her energy stream. Fingers curled through her hair, gripping her with the ferocious hunger she yearned.

  She unbuttoned his long sleeve shirt and yanked it off as she kicked away her sneakers. His mouth closed on hers, his hands everywhere until her top and bra were on the floor.

  Hot electric pulses rippled through, making her wet. He licked her neck, kissing the hollow of her throat, down her chest and to the valley of her breasts.

  Too long they’d been apart. Too long since she last enjoyed his body, his heat.

  She stepped on the hem of her pants and worked them off in a shimmy.

  Tugging at his belt buckle to release his hardened cock, she wished she had another set of hands to touch more of him. She pushed him up against the wall, pulling his black T-shirt over his head and froze.

  She stared at a symbol of a single line twisted into three interconnected ellipses, a flame at the center, tattooed over his heart. Her lungs forgot how to draw in air as she traced the lines spoiling the perfection of his body.

  A shadow shrouded her soul. Her mind reeled as comprehension sank in.

  “I had no choice.” He stroked her cheek. “It was the only way the Council would allow me to leave. You knew I’d accept the call to serve someday.”

  Someday, yes. Before she understood what it truly meant, understood how service must come first in one’s heart and life. It wasn’t simply the Paladin way.

  It was the Kindred way.

  Herut had claimed him, usurped her and relegated their love to second place.

  She swallowed hard, dropping her hands.

  For a moment, Cyrus had been all hers. He would’ve put her before every other flame that burned. But she gave him up, gave him back to Herut and went to Aten.

  His Council had the foresight to entrench their claws and mark their claim.

  He cupped her face. “You’re still first in my heart.”

  Did he even realize that was a lie? Now he’d die for them—live for them—above all else.

  Tears stung her eyes. In a watery blur, she stared at the mark on his chest. They even placed it above their shared birthmark on his ribcage. Sorrow clenched deep.

  His lips covered hers, and she shut her eyes. He lifted her into his arms and put her down on the bed, pressing his hot muscular body into hers, caressing her face.

  Electric rivulets of desire cut through regret. She pushed down his pants and guided his thick cock between her parted thighs.

  As he entered her, she whimpered, not ready for his girth after so long.

  He eased himself in and she raked her fingers through his wavy hair, grabbed his head and pulled his face to hers.

  At the delicious ache of him stretching her, she moaned. Spasms of lush heat spiraled, coiling through her so tight it almost hurt. Quivering, she rode the peak building, mind drifting in a euphoric haze. Bodies entangled as one.

  Then she opened her eyes and remembered.

  She stifled a sob in the warm granite of his chest. Her best efforts to outgrow her weakness, to give rather than take were to no avail.

  She wanted all of him to be hers.

  He kissed her tears, pushing her mind to empty with each hard thrust of his cock. Bittersweet pleasure rippled bone-deep.

  In the blinding wash of aching need and insatiable desire, she let herself go.

  A tidal wave of rapture consumed her. She shuddered to climax and wept.

  He took her in long, sensual strokes, cradling her head, her damp face in the crook of his shoulder until he groaned in deep satisfaction.

  For all their pleasure and all their love, never again would she be first in his heart.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I have absolutely no idea what time it is,” she said exhausted. At some point, he’d kicked the clock during their lovemaking, smashing it against the wall.

  Cyrus stroked the hollow of her neck, most likely marveling once again at how the necklace had been removed.

  “I could care less what time it is, I only want a proper bed,” he complained, the lower half of his body on the floor and the top half snuggled next to her on the mattress he’d pulled from the bed frame.

  “It’s important to keep track of the time here. They only serve two meals.”

  “There’s fruit all over this island. We’ll send Talus out to pick something.” He played in her hair.

  “That’s not how it works around here. Everyone is treated equally, except for Neith and…” She swallowed Adriel’s name.

  “And?”

  “And her favorites.” She kissed his cheeks and forehead, pulling the sheet up to cover the blight on his chest. “I think we’ve missed dinner.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded. “My body has succumbed to Neith’s schedule. I get hungry like clockwork.”

  “I’ll go pick us some fruit. Can’t be against rules if I do it myself.”

  “You?” She leaned up on her elbow.

  “I’m quite capable of picking a few bananas and apples to feed you.”

  “You’re capable of a lot, but you have limits as to what you’re comfortable doing.”

  Cyrus kissed her forehead. “I can handle fruit.” He threw on his black uniform, sat on the edge of the bed frame and laced up his boots.

  She wrapped a sheet around her body and kissed him as he left.

  The room was a shambles. Fixing it without a larger one to move into was pointless. He’d only tear it apart again in an effort to get comfortable. She needed to speak with Neith about new accommodations. She dressed quickly.

  No one stirred in the hall. As she walked toward Neith’s sector, showers ran in the communal lavatory. She knocked on her door and waited. It couldn’t have been late enough for her to be asleep. She knocked again, louder.

  Neith had an uncanny ability to be in several places at once, making it difficult to ascertain her exact whereabouts at any particular time. She moved about the island like a ghost, always watching, checking, keeping a close eye on its inhabitants.

  Serenity made her way up t
o the library, her next best chance. No luck. The office was empty. She circled through the workstations and meandered to the Egyptian calendar.

  Each day had a hieroglyphic forecast depicting good, bad and significant dates. The three seasons were outlined in black and five days at the end of the year were highlighted in red. Her gaze fell to her birthday, marked as a significant good day. It could’ve been coincidence, but things in her world seldom were.

  “I missed you at the evening meal,” Neith said, sneaking up behind her.

  Serenity spun. “You startled me.” Her racing heartbeat slowed. “Is everyone settled in?”

  “Yes, Sothis was very helpful.”

  Serenity turned back to the calendar, remembering her mother’s birthday, the last day of Akhet. “What’s today’s date?”

  Neith pointed to a square on the calendar.

  “Tomorrow is Sothis’s birthday. Would it be possible to have a cake? I know Kindred aren’t big on sweets, but we used to celebrate with a cake and candles when I was little.”

  “You wish to honor her by celebrating the day of her birth?” Neith asked.

  “Honor?” Serenity shrugged. “I just thought it’d help her remember the happy times we shared as a family.”

  “It can be arranged.”

  “I have something else to ask.”

  Something similar to a laugh, but darker, drifted from the ancient beauty. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “My room is a bit cramped with Cyrus. I need something larger and preferably with a window.”

  “Double rooms with fresh air outlets are limited.”

  “Like the one Adriel has?”

  Neith’s eyes flashed the steely color of iron. “Sector five, last room on the left.”

  Serenity smiled. “Thank you. Goodnight.” She walked away.

  “Young firebird,” Neith called and Serenity turned around. “Adriel is a tender spot for us both. It would behoove you not to use him against me again.”

  Serenity’s smile faded along with the joy of her short-lived victory. She nodded and hurried from the library. She rushed to her room, threw her stuff in her backpack and tidied up.

  Cyrus returned with spoils from the orchard filling a pillowcase, just in time to put the mattress back on the bed. “I prefer the mattress on the floor where I can stretch out.”

  “I know,” she said and kissed him. She folded their soiled linen and put it at the foot of the bed where the laundry detail would collect it. “But we’re leaving.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder and grabbed his hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  Her only response was a smile. She led him down sector five, opposite Adriel’s section, and to the last room on the left.

  “Lights, low,” she said as they entered and closed the door behind him. “While you were out getting us much needed sustenance, I was procuring a larger room.”

  He whisked her into his arms, still holding the sack of fruit, and carried her to the full-sized bed. Compared to their beds at Valhalla, it was woefully inadequate, but compared to the twin mattress they had to contend with over the past twelve hours, it was a glorious upgrade.

  He collapsed on the bed with her and pulled out an orange from the sack. She pushed him onto his back, straddling him. “Thank me properly first, and then we can eat,” she crooned, caressing his energy stream in electric waves.

  “With pleasure,” he purred, shoving the fruit from the bed.

  The next morning, with her arm curled around the crook of Cyrus’s elbow, she led him to the showers.

  Bliss stitched a tapestry of pleasure and happiness around them as they walked by the railing under the bright light of day. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair and kissed him, still in shock he was there at her side in paradise.

  “I haven’t used the open bay showers, but we have to pass them to get to the outdoor ones that offer the illusion of more privacy.” At the entrance of the showers, she no longer averted her eyes. Although the sight of so many naked bodies continued to make her uneasy. “It’s like something I’d expect to find in a prison or Army barracks, but all of them seem fine with it.”

  In a corner, Talus showered beside Micah, chattering nonstop, so unlike her to ramble.

  Cyrus must’ve noticed them as well. He turned his head away from the sight of his ward that he’d raised since she was a little girl. Talus spotted them and her eyes grew wide. She rinsed quickly, grabbed her towel and scampered off.

  From the corner of Serenity’s eye, a golden surprise emerged. She pivoted, grinning with unadulterated happiness.

  Adriel strutted toward them, fresh as morning dew and dripping wet.

  “You’re back.” Her voice was too high from the excitement she could barely contain.

  He stood beside her, his moist bare arm an inch from brushing hers. “We got back last night.” He dried his hair with a towel, leaving his lower body comfortably exposed. “We fueled your mother’s plane and took it.” No hint of an accent. “We would’ve been back sooner, but Neith sent me on a wild goose chase for a spice that didn’t exist. Can you believe she even had the gall to tell me not to come back without it?”

  Serenity laughed. Adriel stared at Cyrus, who stood a couple of inches taller, his body wider and thicker with muscle.

  “Cyrus, this is Adriel,” she said, wishing she had introduced him sooner. “He’s been a great friend to me.” Her heart hammered in her chest. “As well as to Nakia, Caelius’s kabashem.”

  “Caelius is here?” Cyrus asked, cutting his eyes from Adriel.

  “You didn’t see him? He helped me get through the blockade of warriors.”

  “It’s good you’ve finally arrived.” Adriel gave a breezy smile, equal parts confident and playful. “Perhaps our Serenity will stop moping.”

  Cyrus flinched. His energy stream, melded with hers, jostled. She didn’t detect nervousness, rather sensed an undercurrent of brittle emotion radiating from her kabashem.

  “I didn’t mope,” she said to Cyrus.

  “Ah, yes you did. Your eyes were lackluster. Now they sparkle. I’m certain your kabashem wants to know how much you missed him.” His gaze shifted to Cyrus. “She barely ate dinner most evenings, racked with sadness.” Adriel looked up as if thinking of something. “Then again, perhaps it had more to do with the difficulty she’s had with her mother.”

  Cyrus’s gaze swung to her, but he said nothing.

  The sensation of his feelings diminished, as if a breeze had stopped blowing and the distinct emotional wall had been raised.

  “Things haven’t been easy with Sothis. We’ll discuss it later. Let’s go shower.” She tugged at his arm, wanting to get him away from Adriel.

  Cyrus didn’t budge.

  Her heart lurched into her throat. The sound of blood rushing in her head filled her ears.

  With a smug expression, Adriel looked him up and down slowly, deliberately. “I’ll see to it fresh clothes in your mate’s size are sent to your room.”

  “Thanks,” she said as he wrapped the towel around his neck and strolled away with his head held high, brazen in his natural glory. “Oh Adriel, I’m in different room now.”

  “I know. I was going to your room last night to bring your art supplies and saw you moving. I didn’t want to intrude. I’ll have things for him sent to your new room.” He turned and strutted away.

  Cyrus grasped her shoulder, wrenching her around. “He’s been to your room? He goes to your room at any hour of the night?”

  “No,” she uttered, shaking her head. He stared at her, Black Dragon eyes on fire while she kept blinking, damn uncontrollable flutters. “Let’s shower.”

  “You seem very familiar with one another.” He followed her to the outdoor showers, not quite at her side.

  She shrugged. “Nope. He’s my friend like Nakia. Now, she’s been to my room.” Her voice cracked and she coughed.

  “You didn’t blink once when he stood in front of you with his
manhood in plain view.”

  Her chest ached as though a boulder pressed down on her, making it difficult to breathe, pulse quickening. Maybe she was having a heart attack.

  “You get used to that sort of thing after a while.” She stripped and turned on the outside shower. “See?” She stood under the running water with her eyes bulging out of her head in an effort not to blink.

  He held her gaze as if he saw right through everything she’d said. A fierce look twisted his face, reminding her just how powerful and lethal her mate was. “Trust me. I see.”

  When he turned to remove his clothes, she closed her eyes and focused on breathing. Slow, controlled, deep breaths from her diaphragm. Adriel might twinkle bright as a star in the sky, set in the bosom of her soul by his unnatural gift, but Cyrus was the sun, eclipsing all other heavenly bodies.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “I thought I’d find you here,” a man said, standing in front of their outside shower stall, holding a pile of folded clothes and sandals.

  Cyrus maneuvered to block the view of his kabashem’s body under the running water with his own. Did no one here have any sense of decorum? At Herut, the body was admired, but there were always rules of etiquette, which were sorely lacking on Neith’s island.

  First, the boy. Now this!

  “Adriel caught me in the hall and said Cyrus needed some things.”

  “Thank you, Soren,” Serenity said, peeking around.

  Cyrus took the bundle from the male. “That was kind of him, and you for bringing them.”

  “Once you’ve showered and changed,” Soren continued, “Neith wants you to report to the kitchen for your work detail.”

  A haughty laugh rolled from Cyrus. “Work detail?”

  “Yes,” Soren said flatly. “Everyone here is assigned to a work detail.”

  Serenity touched his back in between his shoulder blades. “She’ll probably make you a team leader.”

  “No,” Soren replied with a single shake of his head as if the idea were out of the question. “Lazarus is the team leader. Cyrus is to be a worker.”

 

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