The Tyrannizer was just as Rion had described from his vision. About the size of ten men, the torture device sat on a raised dais, a writhing mass of cold circuitry. Here was the center of Unari power, the machine that absorbed the dragons’ pain, then broadcast that pain to the world.
Conditions inside the chamber were so disturbing she’d never forget them. A dragon’s shriek curdled her blood. The room must have been soundproofed to disguise its location or to avoid upsetting Unari workers. If the sounds of torture weren’t bad enough, the smells of blood and fear were horrifying. Covering her mouth with her hand, she stifled a gasp. Looking into that room was like a glimpse into hell. This atrocity had to end.
Rion shut the door, but the terrible memory stayed with her. And the look in Rion’s eyes would haunt her for even longer.
Erik slumped against a wall, his shoulders sagging. Head down, he didn’t look at anyone.
Lex’s complexion had gone ghost white. He, too, turned away and brushed aside a tear. “We have to stop this madness.”
“Agreed.” Rion’s voice cracked. “Gather half the men in this hallway. The others need to find a second entrance around back. Await my signal.”
Erik nodded and straightened, squaring his shoulders, visibly steeling himself for battle.
“What signal?” Lex asked.
“You’ll know when you hear it.” Rion slipped his arm over Marisa’s shoulder. “We have work to do.”
“I don’t know if I can,” she whispered as he took her back into the office they’d just left and shut the door behind them. She stood near the door, trying to regroup. They’d been gone less than a minute, but it seemed an eternity. Her stomach wouldn’t stop twisting and cramping. If she’d had any food in her, she would have lost it.
Rion drew her farther into the room, away from the door. “If we enter that chamber as men, the Unari will whip the dragons until they breathe fire and burn us. If we enter as dragons, the Tyrannizer’s pain will enslave us.”
“You think I don’t know that?” She crossed her arms over her stomach and rocked back and forth. “Was your father—”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see all the dragons.” Rion didn’t rush her. God knew, he must want to. Every second they delayed was another second of agony for all his people. Yet he took the time to be gentle. “You and I will help them. But we aren’t going to make love only for their sakes. There’s something I want you to know.”
She could barely focus on his words. She could no longer actually smell the blood, but the stench lingered in her nostrils and the dragon screams resounded in her head.
Rion cupped her chin, lifted her head until their eyes met. His face, deadly serious, wasn’t stern or harsh. Oddly, his expression was tender.
“I would have preferred to have told you this while sailing through the Hani Islands, where the sand is warm pink and the water a deep turquoise… but I might not get another chance.”
“I can’t take any more surprises.” She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to kiss. Or make love. She wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep. She wanted to forget this waking nightmare.
“I love you.”
She jerked her head up in astonishment. “What?”
His expression softened. His eyes warmed. “I love you.”
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. Her body and mind were overloaded. Shocked. He’d just said he’d loved her. And every fiber of him vibrated with sincerity.
“I know it’s not the right time.” He cupped his hands and ran them over her shoulders and up and down her arms, chasing away her chills. “But I wanted you to know… in case…”
In case they died.
A primal spark kindled. He loved her, and she was so not ready to die. They had to fight back. She had to snap out of her shocked numbness and feed the flame.
But no kiss was going to blanket all the pain in that hellish octagon chamber. Even if she could dull the terrible memory and forget the blood and the screams, even if she could function somewhat normally, she still couldn’t broadcast Rion’s words—not at the same time as she maintained her glow. She could transmit either emotion or words, but not both.
For his plan to work, they had to take out the Tyrannizer, and the dragons all over Honor had to revolt as one. To do that, she had to do more than stop the pain. She had to send a message, too.
She stood straighter, hands on her hips. “It’s time you told me your plan.”
“We’re going to make love.”
“And?” She sensed there was more. A lot more.
“You’ll transmit your glow and stop the dragons’ pain.”
She shook her head. “You know that’s not enough. In order for every dragon on Honor to simultaneously revolt as one and turn on their captors, we need to send a worldwide message.”
Eyes fierce, Rion shot her a steady gaze. “I’ll take care of the message.”
“But you aren’t telepathic—”
“All dragonshapers are telepathic. When you send out your glow, I’ll link my message to it.”
“Wait a second. For me to transmit the glow worldwide, I need high-intensity emotion. As close as I can get to orgasm.” Marisa scowled. “I have to be human to send that emotion. You have to be in dragon form to be telepathic.”
“That’s correct.”
“But a human and a dragon can’t possibly make love. It’s anatomically impossible.”
“I’m going to dragonshape—but only a little.”
“What!” Partial shifting? Was it even possible? A glimmer of what he planned scared her from the top of her head right down to her toes. She looked at him and tried to gauge if he’d lost his mind.
“We’ll make love,” he explained, “and while you dull the pain, I’ll shift some of my cells—just enough so I can tap into my dragon telepathy and tack on my message to your emotional glow. In theory, the dragons’ pain will end, and they’ll also receive my full attack plan.”
“In theory?”
“No one’s ever tried a partial shift,” Rion admitted. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “But I believe I can hold on long enough to send the message.”
He intended to turn into a dragon while they made love. No wonder he hadn’t told her his plan. If he couldn’t maintain control, he’d morph from human all the way to dragon while he was inside her—and rip her apart.
Oh… God.
She wanted to believe he could control a partial shift, but panic threatened to shut her down. She was on the verge of laughing and crying hysterically.
Gunshots fired outside. Men shouted, and skimmers roared off into battle, their engines roaring.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can.”
“Don’t tell me what I can do,” she said.
He took both her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I should never have said that. You deserve better.”
Marisa pulled her hands from his. “Were you telling me the truth when you said you loved me?”
“Yes.”
“If I’m going to risk my life, I have the right to know…”
Without hesitation, he swept her against his chest. “I love you so much”—his voice broke—“that if there were a way to send you away to safety right now, I would.”
The love gleaming in his eyes proved without doubt that he loved her. She felt the warmth down to her soul.
Rion was counting on her. He needed her. And she wouldn’t fail him.
Freeing her arms, she threw away her caution. She ignored the gunshots outside.
Yanking his head down to hers, she nibbled his lip. “Make love to me, Rion.”
He peeled off her clothes, and she helped him out of his. At first her nudity made her feel unusually vulnerable. She reminded herself his men outside wouldn’t invade their privacy and the Unari didn’t know they were here.
Still, when Rion’s teeth closed on one nipple, her body didn’t respond. She was cold. Naked. In enemy territory
. If he noticed her shivering in the chilly air instead of responding fully to his attentions, he didn’t mention it.
He simply closed his hands over her breasts and teased her nipple between his teeth. But she was nervous and upset. Thinking that he meant to do a partial dragonshape had her shaking.
What was wrong with her?
The man had said he loved her. They were both naked. He was holding her, touching her. He was the great guy she’d always wanted. But she couldn’t get turned on.
The roar of a skimmer crashing made her jump. She could hear men shouting orders, boots stomping.
She was too scared.
Scared of failing. Scared of trusting him. Her throat tightened, and tears welled in her eyes. A sob slid up her throat. She cupped his face and raised his head.
“Rion. I can’t.”
“What would you like?” He remained calm, no censure in his gaze. “Tell me what to do.”
Damn it. She didn’t know what to do. Soft lighting, music, and a stiff drink might help. But they didn’t have those luxuries.
Rion gathered her close. “It’s okay.”
Outside, a siren wailed. Even worse, the boots of many men marching their way made her tremble. She had to hurry. She had to get a grip.
The Unari were coming. And she couldn’t stop shaking.
Sick at heart, she slid against Rion’s heat. “It’s not okay. It’s not.”
Fear is not the natural state of stable people.
—LADY OF THE LAKE
30
Marisa embraced Rion and cried into his broad chest. He moved his hands up and down her back soothingly, making small caresses. He kneaded the knots from her shoulders and massaged the tension from her neck until she finally ran out of tears.
What the hell was wrong with her? She’d just had the mother of all meltdowns. Come unglued. Fallen apart. And she didn’t understand it. Marisa had as many self-doubts as the next woman, but she usually had surplus self-control.
She had to calm her raw nerves. In her former career, she’d been under fire several times in the Mideast. She’d gone for days without sleep. She’d been behind enemy lines, even been captured once and had waited in a cell blindfolded for three long days until she’d been saved. But she’d never lost it like this.
What was she so afraid of? She’d looked death in the eye before. Something was wrong. Something was different, almost as if… something was altering her perceptions.
She snapped up her head. Looked into Rion’s surprised eyes. “That Tyrannizer is getting to me.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe it’s affecting all humans. Or maybe I’m especially sensitive because of our nearness or my telepathic ability. But it’s like depression weighing on me, making me think we can’t succeed. Making me afraid.”
His eyes narrowed. “You think it’s affecting all of us on a subconscious level?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “I’ve always wondered if… I thought perhaps my people gave up too easily. I’ve made excuses for them. I thought it was the starvation, the torture. But Honorians are proud of our freedom. We don’t give up.” His hands gripped her shoulders. “But even among the rebels, even those farthest from the Tyrannizer, there’s a definite lack of spirit.”
“It’s not just physical pain. That machine piles on gloom and despair, and it steals hope. It may even affect the Unari—without their knowledge.”
He frowned. “We need to take out the Tyrannizer, but we can’t because we’re afraid?”
“Wrong.” She grinned. “Now that we know those feelings are false, we can ignore them.” At least she hoped she could.
She nibbled on Rion’s chest. Concentrated on the pressure of her lips against his warm, smooth flesh. She focused on the pleasure of touch, how sensitive her lips felt, how skimming her tongue over his warm skin increased her craving for more. His scent always made her feel feminine and sexy, and she breathed in deep, relying on her senses. And her memories. He’d told her he loved her, and the knowledge filled her with sizzling need.
Rion was the man she loved. Her true love. This man had returned to save his world. He was willing to risk his life for their freedom. Rion slid his hands over her, skimming her back with slow, smooth strokes, massaging her scalp, tracing the delicate skin at her neck and over her shoulders. He cherished her with his fingers, and she quivered in anticipation.
Damn, he felt good. He always seemed to know exactly what she liked. With one hand he captured both of hers and held them over her head. His mouth found hers, and she closed her eyes, their tongues dancing, the fingers of his free hand playing between her breasts.
He had her stretched out. Pinned. He could take whatever he wished. She just wished he’d hurry up and take.
His exploration with his lips and fingers had her moaning softly. He caressed her breasts with his palms, and with his fingertips he teased her nipples, shooting a direct current straight to her core. Heat seeped and moisture trickled between her thighs. She tried to lift her hips higher and parted her legs.
He stepped between her feet. She could no longer close her legs—not that she wanted to close them. But he wasn’t accepting her blatant invitation. And now she’d lost the luxury of squeezing her legs together and applying pressure where she craved it most.
She needed him inside her. But he seemed in no hurry at all.
“More,” she whispered between kisses. “More.” She needed him to move faster, move lower. Finally, he inched his hand into her curls. She arched her spine, and he cupped her mons, and a delicious flow of warmth washed over her. She moaned into his mouth, trying to get closer. She needed more friction, more stroking, more heat. Every cell in her body tensed.
Waiting.
But he ignored her parted thighs. Kept her mouth too busy for her to speak. His hands stoked, stroked, sensuously teased until she couldn’t hold still.
She squirmed, trying to get him to hurry, to let her find release. She was right there, and he had yet to really touch her. She jammed her hips against his hand. But he was staying with slow and easy. Driving her mad.
She ached for fast and hard.
Her breath grew frazzled. She stood on tiptoes trying to lift into his hand, but he kept her right on the edge. Breasts aching, she strained, tensed, waited. If her hands were free, she would have pounded his shoulders, but he had trapped her wrists. His legs kept her from closing her thighs.
She was at his mercy. Open, waiting. He could touch her wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, however he wanted.
God, how she wanted. Her entire body was sizzling and stressed. Their kiss was hot enough to fuse metal, and the rest of her was melting.
Ever so slowly, he parted her slick folds, slipped a finger inside her. She was so ready, one touch should be enough for her to find sweet release.
But he was too gentle, too slow. She groaned in frustration.
He tapped the center of her nerves. Lightly. Too lightly to do more than wind her tighter. She needed air, tore her mouth from his, and lolled her head back against the wall.
Her entire focus centered on his finger, one tiny pressure point where all her nerve endings joined.
She pulsed in anticipation. But his mouth was now free to lave her nipple, roll the tip between his tongue. Her back against a wall, her breast in his mouth, she could no longer even squirm.
He played her body, drew every cell up so tight that she had to clench her jaw to prevent herself from begging. He was giving her pleasure, pure pleasure. Holding her right on the brink. She couldn’t take much more…
But waiting felt so damn good. And so damn bad.
She panted. Ached. Despite her determination not to beg, soft words came from her mouth, seemingly of their own accord. “Please. I can’t take much more.”
“I know.” He growled low and husky and went right on doing exactly what he’d been doing. He tapped her clit. She pulsed and throbbed. Panted.
“Again,” she demanded.
Ever so slowly, he tapped her again. Her head thrashed from side to side. “Not hard enough. Not long enough.”
“I know.”
She waited for him to give her what she’d asked for. But he didn’t. Instead, he touched her again. So gently, ripples of heat began in her breasts and spiraled outward until she thought she’d expire from the waiting.
Her toes curled, her lips grew numb. Every atom in her body focused on his touch. Which was smooth, soft, gentle.
Her moisture coated his finger. But his touch remained feather light. While he had his finger exactly on the tip of her clit, exactly where she craved, his fingertip made only tiny maddening circles.
“Ah… ah… Rion. Please. I need you now.”
“Mm,” he agreed, but he kept his finger caressing her, his teeth biting her nipple, his tongue mimicking his finger.
“I can’t… oh… oh-oh. Ohhhh…” She gasped. Her head was spinning. She barely knew what she was saying or doing. Just a little bit more and she would be there. “Please, Rion. Don’t make me… oh… ah… don’t make me wait.”
“I won’t,” he promised, his voice low and sexy.
Good. He was going to… but he wasn’t… And she grew frantic with the rush of need. Her nipples were so tight, the nubs hard and sensitive, that she panted.
She opened her eyes and stared into his. And gasped. Rion’s normally gray irises were shining dragon gold. He still possessed human features, but the flesh on his neck was now dark purple scales. His skin was thicker and tougher, slicker.
But her body was out of control. She couldn’t think past the simple recognition that he was dragonshaping, because his fingers between her legs were picking up speed, applying more pressure.
But his progression was still too damn slow. Each time he gave her a tiny stroke of friction, her body adjusted and demanded more.
Sweat glistened on her skin, and her body flushed with heat. The golden gleam from his gaze caressed like fire. Perhaps she was burning up from the inside out. His fingers moved faster, flicked harder.
Rion Page 24
