CONCEPTION (The Others)

by McCarty, Sarah

  Bohdan pulled out the red ochre paint and very carefully put it on the floor. Too carefully. “Yes.”

  “And he ruled?”

  “Sometimes.” He closed the bag with care, as if by controlling the things around him, he could control the pain inside. “Being human, she seemed to understand that part of me better.”

  “Your mate was human?” He had not known that. Only that she had died so Bohdan could live. It was a hard gift for his brother to live with.

  “Yes.”

  “Would you do this?”

  Bohdan’s gaze met his, for once doing nothing to hide the ravages the loss had left in his soul. “I would risk anything to hear her laugh again.”

  “Even if it hurt her?”

  Bohdan took a breath. His answer flowed with the calm of logic when he released it. “We are taught that life occurs in many dimensions on many levels, and passing from this one brings us to another.” He dipped his fingers into the paint, ritualistically painting the prayers for hope and strength on his forearms.

  “I know the teachings.”

  Bohdan arched a brow at him as he drew the simple, powerful images on his right pectoral. “Do you believe them?”

  Dusan shrugged. “I believe in what I see, and am willing to wait on the rest.”

  Bohdan completed the figure eight on his left pectoral before commenting. “Yet you bonded your life force to hers.”

  Deuce nodded. Edie was all that was precious in the world. All that would ever be good in him. “She cannot go unprotected to the other side.”

  “If it exists.”

  Deuce conceded the point. “If it exists.”

  Bohdan replaced the lid on the ochre jar and met his gaze dead-on. “Then your decision is which life do you believe in more? This one, or the next?”

  Deuce kissed the wildly independent curls on Edie’s head, breathed deeply of her unique scent and pictured her smile as it had been a year ago—full of life, hope, innocence and the beginning of love—and had his answer. “How do I begin?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  If this was heaven, she wanted to give hell a try.

  Eden bit back a moan as another searing pain sliced through her skull. She buried her face deeper into the softness of the pillow, jerking back into the pounding of her headache as her skin screamed in agony. She froze in place, panting as the wave of dizziness swept over her, afraid to move. Afraid to find out what else was going to hurt. But mostly she was afraid to open her eyes and see where she was. What she was.

  “You could not be anything other than what you were born to be.”

  The pain fell behind a cloud she recognized. “Deuce?”

  The mattress dipped. His arms came around her. Her bracing was instinctive but unnecessary as he pulled her against his naked chest. There was no pain and her headache was now only a memory. She nuzzled her cheek into the soft dusting of hair. His scent surrounded her, wonderfully comforting. She inhaled more, taking it deeper into her. There was something so intriguing about the way he smelled. She touched her tongue to his flesh. Tasted.

  “Who else would be in your bed?”

  She wasn’t going there. “Turn on the light.” Muscle stretched under her cheek. A double click and then brightness against her lids. “Thank you.” She took a deep, steadying breath and ordered. “Give it back.”

  “What?”

  She cautiously cracked an eyelid. “My pain.”

  Even this close, he looked good. All that golden skin and rippling muscle with that sexy dusting of hair was pure eye candy.

  “You know that is not possible.”

  “Not only is it possible, I’m demanding it.” She didn’t really want to experience that god-awful pain again, but to let someone else suffer it for her was more horrendous.

  “It is not the Chosen way for a woman to make demands.”

  “I’m not Chosen.” Eventually he’d catch onto that. She cracked her other lid. The view just got better for having the whole picture. Damn, he was big.

  “You will accept my caring for you as I see fit.”

  “You really need to get rid of that tendency to spout orders.” She rubbed her head. “How long was I…sleeping?”

  “Three days.”

  Three days? She took a breath and risked tilting her head back. She couldn’t prevent her gasp. “You look terrible!”

  He did. His face was haggard and worn, with dark circles under his eyes that were almost as black as the pupils.

  He rolled her to her back, propping himself above her with one elbow. His hair fell about her, curtaining her off from anything but him. “Your conversion was not as easy as we had hoped.”

  Considering they’d worried she’d die, “not as easy” must translate into something pretty bad. She touched the deep lines of strain carved beside his mouth, her eyes burning with tears. He’d gone through hell for her.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Your tears are uncalled for.”

  “I’m not crying.”

  His smile could only be called indulgent. Weary, but indulgent. “Though you have not let your tears fall does not make them any less real.”

  She bit her lip, gathered her courage, and asked, “Did it work?”

  His thumb brushed her cheekbone. “Although it has yet to be confirmed by Bohdan, yes. Your body is healed.”

  She ran her tongue over her teeth. Nothing felt unusual. “Is it night or day?’

  “Night.” His fingertips brushed her cheek on their way down. He surrounded her. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. She should feel threatened, but right now she just felt amazingly safe.

  Deuce touched his nose to hers. “You will always be safe with me.” He pushed back, much of his usual grace lacking. “What is the question you wish to ask me, Eden?”

  “How do you know I want to ask you a question?”

  “I can feel the need and anxiety within you.”

  “Am I…different?” Images of every horror movie she’d ever seen flashed through her mind. Deuce shook his head.

  “You are tired and your body heals from the trauma of conversion, but you are as you always were.”

  She must have been projecting again. “Except for the fact I’m your mate now.”

  “Yes.” He managed to pack a wealth of satisfaction into that one syllable.

  “Which means?”

  “I supply your every need.”

  Eden laid out her biggest fear. “Am I going to want to gnaw on strange guys’ necks?”

  No smile accompanied his “No”.

  She hazarded a guess. “Just yours?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  His hair slid forward on the affirmative, stroking across her nipples with a silken glide. The sick traitorous puppies they had to be to think about pleasure when she knew she felt like shit, immediately perked up, sending messages of delight to her core. Eden brushed those tantalizing strands of hair to the side.

  “Why am I never dressed around you?”

  Deuce shrugged, his dark eyes painting the half-peaked buds with the caress of anticipation. “You are beautiful, and it pleases me to look upon you.”

  A woman had no defense against a look that hot. Eden reached for the comforter with some half-baked idea of using it as a shield. “You said I was too skinny.”

  “I said I did not like that you had lost weight.” His fingers left her cheek, trailed down her throat, rode the rise of her collarbone before angling down to cup her breast. Her breath caught, her ribs expanded, pressing her breast harder into his hand. Her womb clenched in anticipation as his thumb hovered over a straining peak. “I would like to see our children at your breast.”

  Eden blinked. That was not what she’d thought he was going to say.

  His thumb tapped the tender peak, centering her attention on his touch. His hand shifted. His fingers flattened against the sides of her swollen breast. He slowly brought them up, compressing the flesh, milking delight from her before engulfing the
hard tip in the heat of his mouth. He drew slowly on her nipple, holding her gaze, suckling strongly.

  I would taste your milk.

  Oh God! She wanted him to. She wanted to give to him in every way she could. She arched into his mouth, moaning as she reminded him, “I don’t have any milk.”

  He dragged his teeth along her nipple as he withdrew, taking her shudder against him, pressing her nipple deep into her breast with his tongue, drawing out the pleasure. Next time.

  Next time?

  She blinked. She hadn’t finished with this time yet. She moved his hair off her aching breasts as he propped himself above her. “How is Jalina?”

  “She thrives.”

  Thank God. She owed him so much. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

  “She is my daughter. Thanks are not necessary.”

  “I want to see her.”

  “Marlika will bring her in after you feed.”

  They needed to get something straight between them. “I don’t feed, I eat, and I have other needs to see to first.” Her bladder was uncomfortably full.

  His hand slid over her stomach to cup her lower abdomen. “You need to urinate.”

  The blush started at her toes. She shoved his hand away. “For God’s sake, you don’t just say those things!”

  His right eyebrow arched, and despite the embarrassment eating her alive, she couldn’t help but admire his aplomb. “You do not have to?”

  “Whether I do or not is immaterial. It’s private and not a subject for conversation.”

  She could tell from his expression that he wasn’t taking her seriously.

  “You are embarrassed by your bodily functions?”

  “I’m embarrassed by your insistence in talking about them.”

  “It is my duty to see to all your needs.”

  “Trust me, there are some things a woman has to do herself.”

  “Like vomiting?”

  Eden pushed Deuce back and slid out from beneath him. “Exactly.”

  The room spun as she sat up. Instantly, he was beside her, his arm around her waist, drawing her into the shelter of his body, lending her his strength. “The urinating you can do yourself. The getting there I will help you with.”

  She rolled her eyes, pretending she wasn’t burning up with embarrassment from the inside out. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  “No. But you have forever to teach it to me.”

  Now there was an intimidating thought. He opened the bathroom door for her and gave every appearance of planning on escorting her right up to the toilet. That was so not happening. She braced herself against the door. “I can take it from here.”

  “You are weak.”

  She was, but she was a long way from dead. And that’s what she’d have to be to want a too masculine, too sexy for his own good man—Chosen—put her on the toilet like a toddler. She stepped through the door and started to close it. “Not that weak.”

  The door stopped when it ran into the barrier of his hand. “It pleases me that you think of me as sexy.”

  She rolled her eyes. As if the man needed his ego stroked. “Stay out of my head.”

  She shoved it the rest of the way closed. He really was too much. She braced herself on the vanity as she inched her way across the floor, the hoop swaying with every step reminding her of Deuce’s will. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this weak. She sat down on the toilet with a weary sigh. Thank goodness the bathroom wasn’t one of those big fancy modern affairs with more floor than utility, or she would never have made it.

  Two minutes later, she realized getting down was definitely easier than getting up. Getting up took everything she had and left her shaky. She leaned on the vanity while she caught her breath. Sitting in front of her was her toothbrush, reminding her that her mouth tasted like the inside of a shoe. She reached for the brush and glanced in the mirror. Her scream almost shattered the glass. The door slammed open and then Deuce’s reflection was behind hers, looking impossibly big from this perspective.

  She put her hands over her face, as if covering it hid the reality. “Don’t look!”

  Deuce’s arms came around her again, one settling across her abdomen, pulling her back into his chest while supporting her weight. The other tucked across her shoulders. “You screamed because of your face?”

  “Of course I screamed. Anyone would.” She was hideous, her eyes beyond bloodshot and swollen with blue-black bruising all around. The same for her nose and mouth. She peeked through her fingers. The flash of red that was her eyeballs was enough to have her snapping them closed again. She shuddered in horror. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  He had not warned her because the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen was her opening her eyes. “The bruising is temporary. I will heal it after I feed.”

  “I’m not going to be stuck like this?”

  “No.”

  One hand twisted to cover her eyes, the other flicked at his reflection. “Go. Feed. Quickly.”

  The laughter caught him by surprise. Despite his exhaustion, despite the tearing burden of her pain and his own, she had managed to amuse him. “First, we will see to your comfort.”

  “We are not doing anything.”

  “You are too weak to support yourself.”

  “Call me shallow, but no one is seeing me like this.”

  She could not be shallow if she took classes. “I have already seen you.” His logic did not appear to soothe her.

  “Then I hope you looked your fill.”

  He tapped her fingers in a silent request to drop her hands. “Think you a bruise or two would matter to your mate?”

  She pushed his hand away. “This is a hell of a lot more than a bruise.”

  “I do not like your swearing.” He turned her around. Edie did not make it easy and she did not uncover her face, just dug those pointy elbows into his abdomen and was as uncooperative as she could possibly be. He was hampered by his need to support her. He would levitate her but that would take more mental strength than he could spare. But he would, however, spare the energy to take away the worst of what caused her horror.

  He finally had her turned and anchored with his palm at the middle of her back. He arched her backward, smiling when she caught her hand on the vanity behind her, leaving her mouth vulnerable. As if he would let her fall. He brushed his lips over hers, using the connection to accelerate the draining of the blood and fluid, repairing the damage, his lips lingering on hers after the job was done. He did the same with the rest of her face.

  She held absolutely still while he did so. Only the steadily increasing scent of her arousal and the little pulsing breaths meeting his indicated her emotions. Of his, there was no doubt. He stepped back, letting gravity drag his cock down before closing the gap between them, his cock nestling between her legs, snuggling against the center of the joining ring, touching the hot crevice beneath. There was nothing little about her gasp this time.

  Her “There is something seriously wrong with you” was as disgruntled as her woman’s flesh was wet.

  He touched her lip with his tongue, testing her flavor. Such an intriguing mass of contradictions. Sweet and hot. Shy and bold. Sass and compassion. “I am your mate. Always will you be attractive to me.”

  She peeked at him from under the edge of her hand. “As much as I realize you think that’s comforting, getting a hard-on for what I saw in the mirror—that’s just…sick.”

  Deuce shook his head at her silliness. His hair fell over his shoulder, blocking his view of her breasts. He flipped it back impatiently, losing his balance as he did so, bumping her against the sink.

  “Deuce?” All play left her voice.

  He straightened, blinking back the dizziness. “I’m sorry.” He eased Edie up, centering himself. “I should not have healed you just yet.”

  She touched her lips, frowned and slid her arm around his waist. It was only when she stepped to his side that he realized she had the absurd notion of supporting
him. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “I am fine, mate.”

  “You almost passed out.” He could feel the fear beating at her with that realization. She tugged him toward the door. “You need to lie down.”

  He went because even though she could not feel the pain her actions were costing her, he could. And one of them needed to be lying down for him to manage it. Another wave of dizziness hit him halfway across the room. He stumbled. Edie twisted around in an effort to support him, tripped and fell. He yanked her back against him and spun so he took the brunt of the fall. Her knee dug into his groin, jarring a moan past his control. Eden leapt to her feet, using his groin as a springboard, forcing out another moan, and backing away from him as soon as she hit her feet.

  “Oh my God! This is it. This is absolutely it.”

  She rushed to the door, without explaining what “it” was, and yanked it open before he could remind her of her nudity. Dak stood on the other side. The only thing that kept Deuce from marking him for death was that, after that first glance, his eyes never left Edie’s face as she grabbed his arm, her worry coming in a breathless, urgent rush.

  “Oh God, you have to help him.” She was yanking on Dak’s arm, dragging him into the room as she spoke. “He almost passed out.”

  Deuce was going to have a serious talk with her about exposing herself to other men. He didn’t like the way her breasts bobbed with every jerk on Dak’s arm, or the view the other man had of her ass as she came to kneel beside him.

  Dak intercepted his glare, smiled, and grabbed the comforter off the bed and wrapped it around Eden on his way over. “Deuce?”

  “I am fine.”

  Edie was shaking her head before he finished, her wildly bouncing curls drawing the werelion’s eye. “He’s not.”

  “If you ask me neither one of you looks like you should be out of bed.”

  Deuce wrapped the throw more carefully around Eden as she knelt beside him, her hands touching his face and shoulders as if she didn’t know what to do, but was determined to do something.

  “He needs Bohdan,” Eden said, placing her hand on his forehead, holding it for a second while the sheer novelty of having someone fuss over him kept him sitting where he was while her soft hands stroked his shoulder in agitated little pets that had the Pride leader giving off waves of envy. Deuce caught Eden’s arm and pulled her down to his side. Dak had been getting restless lately, showing all the signs of mating hunger. He did not want to lose a friend to a moment of frenzy.