Betrothed

by Lola White

  Daniel’s lips tightened. “You’ll have to look elsewhere for your culprit.”

  Eliasz exhaled loudly, the breath leaving him in a rush. He opened his mouth to ask another question, but a phantom squall slammed into his skull, ripping at his hair.

  Immediately, he went cold. He heard Ileana’s name as his heart stuttered to a halt, squeezing painfully. Magic sparked and flared, burning in his bones and clawing at his brain. The wind pushed and prodded, whispering an urgent command.

  Go.

  Without thought or hesitation, Eliasz pushed past Daniel and flew from the room. The wind skittered over him, pulling him through the hall, pushing him up the stairs. It lifted his heels, making him stumble twice, jerking him around a corner at full speed.

  Eliasz crashed into a wall, stumbling, arms wheeling. It slowed his momentum, gave him a small moment to absorb his surroundings. He heard the angry rumble of Alexandru’s scratchy voice and Ileana’s breathless whisper. He heard the sound of a dry palm slapping soft skin and a gasping cry.

  The bastard had hit Ileana.

  Eliasz ran headlong into the parlor to his right, throwing himself through the door, sliding to a halt on the runner under his feet. His eyes searched the dim space, not seeing anyone by the weak sunlight falling through the windows in narrow shafts.

  The wind stirred at his nape and washed his vision clear.

  Between the two windows, heavy shadows coated a bookcase, camouflaging the old man with clenched fists. Ileana was nowhere to be seen.

  “Dirty bitch.” Alexandru’s voice was soft and low, nearly swallowed by the thick atmosphere of magic. “A whore like your grandmother. Weak like your mother. I should have culled you at birth, drowned you like the unwanted mongrel you are. You’ve been no use to me.”

  Wide-eyed, holding his breath, Eliasz leaped forward. Alexandru was too involved in what he was doing to hear him, too lost in his own mind. Eliasz peered over the high-backed antique settee, and felt his heart stop, drop to his toes and shatter.

  Ileana was lying on the floor, legs writhing, mouth working as her head thrashed side to side. Her lips were blue, her face pale, her eyes bulging. Her hands clawed at the air, a silver circle burning through the fabric of her shirt between them. She had no words, no screams, no sounds at all.

  She had no breath.

  Alexandru watched with the cold light of murder shining in his eyes.

  Eliasz jumped over the settee. “Stop!”

  He reached for Alexandru, only to be repulsed by a violent, silver shock wave. It rolled out of the old man’s body and swept across the room, overturning a chair. Eliasz barely managed to keep his feet, but tried again. And was pushed back.

  Magic.

  He called his own. It rose to his command with a vigorous leap, filling his palms with molten steel, hot and burning at his fingertips. He sent it straight at Alexandru.

  It hit into the Lovasz Father’s magic—the magic of the Family—and erupted in a fireworks display, shooting up toward the ceiling and sinking back to the floor in a slow shimmer of sparks. Eliasz put more force behind his next strike.

  Sweat dotted his brow at the effort. He’d known the Lovasz Family was magically powerful, but only then did he realize what that meant. His insides felt as if they were melting, tugging out of his body through his navel. A stab of pain vibrated his spine as his bones clamped down on his internal organs.

  Alexandru easily split his focus between his two victims. A silver shield curved around his body, repelling the force of Eliasz’s magic, even as it began to wobble.

  That was when Eliasz realized that Ileana was fighting as hard as he was. The circle burning her chest was emerging from her, not sinking into her. The fabric of her shirt smoldered, but didn’t burn anywhere but that perfect ring. Her bulging eyes were locked on her grandfather, filled with determination and unspeakable strength.

  The Lovasz Father was too strong.

  Another force swept into the room, a golden storm that swirled and spun, reaching into every corner and blazing like the dawn. It ran hot fingers over Eliasz’s scalp, bringing an imminent sense of danger, a primitive fear of a force he couldn’t hope to fight.

  The golden light curled around Alexandru’s magic shield and blew it to hell. Silver sparked and died. Ileana gasped, the sound like a gunshot ricocheting through Eliasz’s head. She fell back to the carpet, the circle on her chest slowly fading with every breath she snatched.

  Alexandru slumped. Silviu flew past Eliasz to catch the old man before he hit the floor. The Lovasz Father’s eyes rolled back into his head, his lids fluttering, looking pale and fragile. Eliasz didn’t give a shit.

  Georgeanne rushed around the settee, dropping to the floor and pressing on Ileana’s shoulder, holding her to the rug. “Hush, be easy.” Georgie pushed a hank of hair off Ileana’s face. “Just breathe.”

  Eliasz knelt next to them. Ignoring Georgie, he scooped Ileana into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Relief turned his bones to jelly when her arms came around his neck.

  He feathered his lips over her hair. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was raw and weak.

  “What the hell happened?” Silviu’s sharp tone pulled everyone’s attention straight to him.

  The youngest Lovasz was authoritative in his rage, golden magic still flaring over his shoulders. He supported Alexandru’s body as the old man clung to him—legs trembling, feet shuffling. Silviu stood firm, giving Eliasz new insight to the man’s strength—both physical and magical.

  So much greater than his own.

  “It’s my fault,” Eliasz admitted. His arms tightened around Ileana in apology. “Alexandru was being difficult about the betrothal. I made a claim on Ileana, told your grandfather she’d already been in my bed.” He raised his chin, meeting Silviu’s unsurprised gaze directly.

  The man’s lips twisted. “And I guess he went crazy when he heard that.”

  “We should get him out of here,” Georgie stated. She was calm and cool, her voice strong. A perfect counterpoint for Silviu’s contained anger.

  “Iley?” Silviu didn’t move. “Are you okay?”

  She pulled from Eliasz, provoking the berserker that screamed in his soul, but soothing it by letting him help her to her feet. She rubbed at her chest and throat before nodding. “Yes. I held him off long enough for Eliasz to come and divert his attention.”

  Silviu’s eyes met his after evaluating the way Ileana huddled into his side. He lifted his eyebrows. “You have to be strong to stand against Grandfather.”

  “I hadn’t realized…” Eliasz shook his head. “I wasn’t strong enough to stop him.”

  “Strong enough to survive,” Silviu said. “Most witches aren’t. Next time, stab the bastard. He won’t expect it.”

  “Witches only fight with magic.” Eliasz ran his eyes over the old man, who was starting to get his head back together, hate filling his eyes again. Pride and tradition was nothing compared to Ileana’s safety. “I’ll start carrying a knife.”

  Georgie moved to help Silviu, angling one slim shoulder under the Lovasz Father’s. “Come on, Silver. Let’s get him to his room and find Costel.”

  The door swung closed behind the stumbling trio. Eliasz heard it lock. He tightened his hold on Ileana’s waist and lifted her against his chest, the marauder within him mollified when she wrapped her legs around his hips and laid her head against his shoulder. He carried her as she was to a deep chair at the settee’s side.

  For long minutes he simply held her, letting the fact that she was safe sink in and soothe him. Letting the hot flow of adrenaline fade. He felt her lips brush his neck, her fingers sift through his hair. She stayed as she was though, giving them both the time they needed to recover.

  The words ripped from his chest. “I couldn’t save you.”

  “I would have been shocked if you could,” she admitted. “The men in my Family are very strong.”

  “So are you.”

&
nbsp; She nuzzled his neck. “Just strong enough to know where their weaknesses are. I would have died a long time ago, otherwise.”

  “It’s a miracle Silviu found us in time.”

  “I called him, Eliasz.” She stirred, pulling back to meet his gaze, though it seemed hard for her. Her eyes kept dropping to his lips then wandering off to some point behind him before finding his again. “You and me on our own… Well, we both would have died before Grandfather was brought down. Silviu…was born under the Reaping Moon.”

  Eliasz dragged in a breath, fighting to keep his body relaxed as shock and fear shook him. “Shit. I didn’t think that was possible.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Fuck. A Reap witch and a Bane witch.”

  “Did you see the magic?”

  “The gold? Yes. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Matches have gold magic. Theirs can be seen, when they aren’t actively hiding it.”

  “They’re strong?”

  “Stronger together than anyone could possibly know.” Ileana settled back against his chest. “I wonder if my father expected that, when he forced Madeleine to sign the betrothal agreement.”

  “He forced her?”

  She nodded. “The day Georgie was born. Within minutes, according to rumor. My father believes the old stories with all his heart and soul.”

  “And so does Madeleine, apparently.” Eliasz groaned. “Hell, so do I, now. Vasile had the old lady over a barrel, though, didn’t he? Her granddaughter was born without magic.”

  “She didn’t accept that fact until Georgie was a teenager.”

  Ileana stroked his chest, and Eliasz’s need to possess her reared its impatient head. More than a simple need for sex, it was an essential drive to claim her as his, to examine her inside and out, make certain that she was all right. To give her comfort and take his own, though he didn’t deserve it after failing her.

  Trying to push the snarling need from his mind, he focused on the past. “I guess it was hard to come to terms with.”

  “Father brought me, Silviu and Costel to the Davenold estate when we were young, for the first introduction and to seal the betrothal agreement in blood. Make it binding before Grandfather found out about it. Georgie was only thirteen. Madeleine resisted, wanting to give her two or three more years, just to make sure she was really Bane.”

  “What changed her mind?”

  “The very first time Silviu and Georgie met, the room exploded in gold light. Even Madeleine saw it. Father later told us what that meant.”

  “Took all the wind out of Madeleine’s sails, huh?”

  “Yes.” Ileana pressed closer to his chest. “Madeleine is the Council High Seat, so sealing the betrothal was easily done without Grandfather’s permission.”

  “Why didn’t your father do that for you, Ileana?” Eliasz frowned. “Why didn’t he appeal to Madeleine to secretly seal any of your betrothals?”

  “I don’t think he ever intended for me to marry, before you. As for us… I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to make it all look more legitimate after so many broken betrothals, or maybe it’s because you are the highest-ranking male who has ever asked for my hand. Maybe it’s because you’re a Levy and he wants to capitalize on a very public betrothal celebration.”

  “That’s a lot of maybes.”

  “My father and his schemes are currently the last things I want to talk about.” Ileana sat up. “Will you please fuck me now?”

  “No.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ileana

  “What I’m going to do to you goes so far beyond fucking, there’s no word for it.” Eliasz’s eyes were blue fire. “No teasing, Ileana. I need to have you on my terms.”

  She just needed him. She needed to feel his arms around her and his cock inside her. She needed to feel his heat and the curiously gentle way he always touched her, no matter how rough his grip. She needed to feel the elusive emotion she always caught a glimpse of when he held her. “Okay.”

  His big hands cupped her jaw. She felt fragile and cared for, letting her eyes close to soak in the sensation. His breath coasted over her lips just before he pressed softly—an achingly sweet gesture. His lips brushed hers slowly, barely there as he traced the full curves, corner to corner.

  Heat whispered over her mouth. She parted her lips for him, but he resisted the temptation she offered. He took his time learning the feel of her, pressing fragile need into the tingling nerves he aroused.

  She was anchored to the bulge between his legs, straddling him, her knees sunk in the deep cushions. But he didn’t take her urgently or forcefully, though he was just as intense as always. Something had shifted—not softened exactly, but the dominant determination that was so much a part of him had smoothed around the edges.

  He was giving, not taking.

  A sparkling spring of unnamable emotion welled up as the thought settled in her brain. Ileana wasn’t used to being given anything freely, and had spent the intimate moments she’d already shared with Eliasz demanding her own pleasure, taking it for herself.

  He’d asked her not to tease in the most serious of tones, so she didn’t. She leaned against his chest, fingers sifting through his hair, letting him do what he would without defiance. She didn’t pull back when his hands slid down her neck, she didn’t tense when he cupped her nape, and she didn’t protest the weakening sense of safety he wrapped her in with that innocent move.

  She didn’t fight, when one hand swept down the long plane of her back, stroking in slow sweeping drifts that painted awareness over her muscles. She simply held still when he licked her lips and dipped inside, letting him deepen the kiss with gentle flicks of his tongue, soft glides against her own.

  Ileana didn’t give in to the urge to nip and suck, instead contenting herself with a decadent meeting of velvet tongues, surprised when she found a sweet pleasure unlike any she’d ever known. The kiss went on forever, a leisurely climb into bliss, an unhurried reach deep into her soul.

  She breathed through him as reality lost focus. Everything went fuzzy at the edges, all of her awareness dwindling down to him and the gentleness he poured over her. She was lost in the kiss, reveling in the warm slide of lust winding around her in lazy ribbons.

  His hands coasted over her, burning through her shirt. With easy sweeps of his palms, he called the fabric to him, raising it so adroitly that it became another caress. Cool air flowed over her exposed midriff, easing her heated skin.

  Higher and higher, he dragged the shirt up, until he pulled it over her head and left her bare but for her bra. His fingers danced over her, tracing long pathways that corresponded with her stretching nerves. They reached for his touch, drawn in by this new gentleness, by the warmth of him, the safety he was promising with every stroke over her skin.

  Ileana shifted back to let his hands trace up her ribcage only to press forward when his palms caught her breasts, pushing them deeper into his hold. He cupped her, weighing the full mounds. The delicate lace of her bra slid against her skin, adding texture, a new layer of delight. But she didn’t want it, only wanted his skin against hers.

  She pulled her lips from his. “Please, take it off.”

  Without any haste he complied, giving her what she wanted. Still unhurried, he released the clasp and dragged the bra from her shoulders, his fingers deliberately grazing her skin as he pulled the material from her body.

  His lips slid over her jaw, down her neck as Ileana tipped her head to give him better access. He found the heavy pulse and laved it, tasting her skin and imprinting the feel of his lips onto her heart.

  With exquisite attention, he drew the time out as he cupped her breasts and played with her nipples. He circled and petted, kneaded gently, stroked the rising curve and the delicate flesh beneath, spreading heat over every inch of each swollen mound.

  He repeated the courtesy with his lips, dragging them over her curves, licking beneath her breasts. His tongue traced her veins as they crept closer to the surface of h
er skin, eager for the same devotion he gave to her nerves. Only when he’d coated her chest with prickling need did he turn his lips to her nipples.

  They were begging. Harder than they’d ever been, they were pulsing with delight long before he wrapped his lips around them and brought them pleasure. His tongue rolled over them, licked and flicked, capturing them in wet, hot need. His lips worked her, drew on her in long, pulling sucks, driving the intensity into a higher realm.

  Lightning zigzagged through her body. Her spine bowed as she caught his nape, bringing his mouth closer to her swollen flesh, holding him where she needed his attention. All the liquid heat that had been wrapping her bones dissolved and overflowed, pooling in her lower belly until her abdominal muscles pulled tight and her pussy pulsed.

  But Eliasz wouldn’t be rushed.

  She arched against him, riding the thick bulge between his legs, loving the feel of his hardness against her. He held firm, not even tightening his arms. His hands drifted lower, all over her body, as his mouth feasted, first on one nipple then the other.

  Ileana unclenched her fingers from his hair and tugged at his shirt, hauling it up his back in fistfuls until she’d gathered a large bundle of fabric under her hands. Eliasz relented, releasing her throbbing nipple with a lick as he sat back and let her tug his shirt off.

  His eyes were neon with need as they ran over her body in a gaze that was nearly physical in its intensity. His lips were swollen, beautifully curved, damp and tempting. His hands followed his eyes, sweeping over her, up and down, retracing his previous course until no single inch of her felt neglected.

  Ileana leaned forward, forcing his acquiescence with a simple plea. “I want to touch you.”

  He settled back against the cushion and she put her mouth to his. She gave him a kiss like the one he gave her, soft and slow, deep and reaching deeper. It was his turn to accept, and he did so with good grace, tangling his tongue with hers when she licked into his mouth, letting her go when she pulled back to nip his lower lip.

  She mimicked his actions and kissed over the strong line of his jaw, tasting the subtle hint of a cologne that enhanced his own, unique scent. She used the sharp edge of her teeth gently, scraping the tendons of his neck, loving his physical strength beneath her. As he had done, she found his heavy pulse and licked it, relishing the throb under her tongue.