She’d chosen him. Not someone smarter or kinder or better versed in how to navigate a relationship—but him.
He traced his thumb along her lower lip, and a choking knot clogged his throat. He swallowed to clear it. Now wasn’t the time to get in touch with his soft side. He had a task. An important one he couldn’t put off any longer. “Time to wake up, sweetheart. We need to get to work.”
She blinked a few times, scanned the room, and pushed up on her elbows. “What time is it?”
The sheet slipped, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. The edge perched just above her nipples, leaving the upper swell of her breasts exposed. Hours he’d devoted to exploring her the night before, diverting her fears with far more enjoyable sensations, and yet the sultry image clocked him like it was brand new.
He fisted his hands. It was either that or yank the sheet out of his way and give in to the tactile exploration he craved. “A little after nine,” he managed.
Following his stare, she pulled the sheet up to her collarbone. Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and her nipples hardened beneath the silk. “What work?”
An instant, almost volatile growl crawled up his throat, and he clenched his teeth to contain it. Lexi was right. He was horribly unprepared for a relationship. All Brenna had done was cover herself, but the simple act infuriated the beast. Made him want to tear the damned sheet to shreds. Hell, he wasn’t just unprepared for a relationship, he was a freak.
Her hand stayed fisted in the sheet, holding it tight to her chest. It was all he could look at. All he could process.
“Training,” he said.
“Training for what?”
His gaze snapped to hers. “To fight.”
Rattled by the answer, her hand relaxed. “I don’t know how to fight.”
“You don’t yet, but you will.” He stood and paced to the wide dresser where she’d unpacked some of her things. Through the mirror above it, he watched her watching him. “The way things are going in Evad, we don’t know how much time we have, so it’s best we get started.”
“Okay.” Her thumb shuttled across her skin once. Then again. “I’ll get dressed and meet you in the kitchen.”
Oh no. That wasn’t happening. Maybe it proved him the crass, knuckle-dragging jackass Lexi claimed he was, but he’d be damned if he let Brenna build walls between them. “You’re hiding from me. Why?”
She opened her mouth as if to argue, then closed it.
It didn’t matter. The fear swimming in her eyes said plenty. He stalked toward her, the darkness in him straining for release. “I’ve seen you. Touched you. Tasted you.”
She snapped upright, and the defiant spark he’d glimpsed the day before fired bright. “It’s different in the daylight.”
“Different how?”
“Because it’s normal.” As soon as she said it, her eyes popped wide and she jerked her head to one side so he couldn’t read her face.
Normal? That didn’t make a damned lick of sense. “What’s wrong with normal?”
No answer. No sass. Just hard, cold silence.
“I can stand here all day. You wanna see stubborn, I’ll show you—”
“It gives me hope.”
Man and beast both froze, for once in sync and utterly dumbfounded.
Slowly, Brenna lifted her head, her lips tight and eyes glassy with threatening tears. “Hope makes me want things that may not happen. I could take going home and being disappointed with what I found there, but I couldn’t take experiencing normal with you and then losing it.”
She thought…fuck, he couldn’t even wrap his head around what she thought. That this was some nonchalant arrangement he could toss aside? That he’d willingly walk away?
The darkness swarmed, knocking aside what scraps of gentleness he had left. “Stand up.”
Her breath caught, and her lips rounded on a startled O.
“Stand up and get dressed. I’m going to train you until both of us are exhausted and too tired for bullshit, and then I’m going to bring you back here and show you how there’s not a thing about us that’s normal.”
“Didn’t you hear—”
“If you want to argue, get up and do it. Get in my face. Histus, you can throw a punch if you want, but you’ll do it the way you are now. The way a woman not ashamed of her body, or afraid of her man, would do it in the heat of the moment.”
Emotions shifted across her face so fast he could barely keep up. Shock. Disbelief. A flicker of desire, then fiery anger. Like a whip, she tossed the sheet aside and flung her legs to the side of the bed. Her chin snapped high, and the Great One help him, she threw her shoulders back, making her breasts bounce and demand his attention. “Happy now?”
His dick stretched and hardened beneath his jeans so fast it was a wonder he didn’t pass out from the blood rushing to it. He palmed himself and shifted to ease the grueling press of denim, for all the good it did him. “I’m pacified. Happy won’t hit until I’m buried inside you and you’re coming around my cock.”
A tremor shook her, and one hand fluttered above her abdomen. Her head tilted back as though she barely held back a moan, and her eyelids weighted with need.
He stalked closer.
Goose bumps lifted across her delicate skin, and her lips parted.
He couldn’t touch her, not the way the beast demanded, or he’d never see to her training, but he could make a point. Something to hang on to, for the day ahead and the rest to come.
Starting at the base of her sternum, he dragged his knuckles down her belly. He palmed the space above her womb and splayed his fingers low, teasing the top of her mound. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”
Her breaths deepened, and her nipples tightened to such pretty, tight points his mouth watered. Not a verbal answer, but likely more honest than he’d get with words. She couldn’t hide, or run, from what burned between them any more than he could.
Drawing small circles against her tender flesh, he dipped his head and ghosted his lips across hers. “This is what hope feels like. I suggest you get used to it.”
Brenna strode into the clearing behind Ludan, more frustrated and out of sorts than she’d been in her entire life. Her skin prickled beneath her pale blue tunic and leggings, and the ache between her legs wouldn’t ease no matter what platonic thoughts she focused on.
Damn Ludan and his demands. In his promises and his wicked touch. Everything had been so much easier when she’d been the comfortable one. The one pushing, or more like shoving, things along.
She still didn’t get it. Somewhere along the way their dynamic had shifted. When or why, she couldn’t pinpoint, but it was different.
“We’ll work here.” Ludan paused about fifty feet to one side of the lake behind his father’s cottage. The red-rimmed sun was full bright, and along the water’s edge, tall, skinny plants with periwinkle tops bobbed in the wind. He motioned her forward.
Ugh. He was still testy. Why on earth he was so irritated she still couldn’t figure out. She was the one who’d had to reveal everything this morning, both physically and emotionally. And then he’d gone and done the one thing that scared her more than anything. Dared her to hope.
She stomped within slapping distance and mashed her lips together so tight she’d be lucky if they didn’t bruise.
His mouth quirked on one side, and a devilish glint sparked in his icy-blue eyes. In that moment, he looked more animal than man. A panther who wanted to toy with its prey before it savored its meal.
Her core tightened and readied, the mere thought of his powerful body pressing into hers making her wet.
Oh yes. The tables had definitely turned. She cleared her throat and planted her hands on her hips with more bravado than she felt. “So? What are we doing?”
For the longest time, he stared at her, his expression so frustratingly neutral she had half a mind to pick another fight. He frowned and scanned the soft, silver-edged turf. His gaze locked on something at the lake’s edge. In a smooth, wel
l-practiced move, he held out his hand and a rock flew across the space, straight to his palm. He pinched it between his two fingers and held it up. “That’s step one.”
He gently lobbed the stone her direction, and she jerked forward to catch it. “Step one for what?”
“Telekinesis. The first thing you need to learn.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Healing’s more complicated. If you can heal, then this should be a cakewalk.” He held out his hand again. “Send it to me.”
“That was different. Galena guided me with her energy. Eryx did, too.”
He flashed forward so fast his appearance blurred. Had it not been for his hand plastered at the small of her back, he’d have knocked her over. His other hand gripped the side of her neck, and his breath huffed in and out like he’d sprinted a mile. “Don’t mention Eryx in that context. Not right now.”
If it hadn’t been for the torment pinching his face, she’d have balked or tried to argue. “I don’t understand.”
The hand at her back slid up until his fingers twisted in the hair above her nape. “His energy inside you. It’s intimate.” His breath fanned across her face. “He didn’t mean it that way. I know that, but you have no idea how hard I’m fighting right now. I’m raw. Dangerous.” He loosened his grip and cupped the side of her face. His hands shook with a ferocity that matched his gaze. “I’ve never done this before. Never been this close to a woman. The thought of Eryx inside you…I want to kill him.”
A shiver snaked beneath her skin. He couldn’t mean it. Not really. Eryx was his best friend. A brother, even if only by choice. The general sentiment and shift in his demeanor should have scared her to death. And yet, the admission pleased her. She nuzzled her cheek against his touch and kissed his palm. “Okay.”
He dragged his thumb against her lips. His covetous gaze followed the simple act, then snapped back to hers before he stepped away. He held out his hand, palm up. “Send it to me.”
The rock was smooth and white, its powdery surface leaving a chalky residue on her fingertips. She opened her hand and closed her eyes. The rock’s weight was insubstantial, no more than one of the marbles she’d played with as a child. When she’d healed, she’d pushed her spirit forward. Maybe this was the same. A combination of will and thoughts.
“Feel my energy,” he said. “Use it. Make it your own.”
Even with the wind whipping around her, she felt his voice. His essence. A soft, downy blanket that wrapped around her. She pulled in a slow, calming breath, centered her thoughts on the stone’s weight, and pushed.
The weight disappeared.
Brenna opened her eyes as the rock plummeted over her fingertips to the ground between them. “I did it. It moved.”
The smile he gifted her with was unlike any she’d seen from him before. Bright and unguarded with absolute joy shining in his eyes. This was the man he had to have been years ago. Before life and the burden of his gift had tarnished his light. “Yeah, you did it.”
The rock zoomed straight up in the air and landed back in her hand.
“Now, do it again.” He stepped back another foot. “This time keep your eyes open and focus on sending it to me.”
Keep her eyes open. Right. Because pulling off tricks her body hadn’t been designed to perform was so easy with her eyes closed. She let out a slow exhale and braced her feet a little farther apart, eyes focused on the stone.
“Don’t overthink it,” Ludan muttered. “Use my energy like you did before, but carry it this time. Guide it to me.”
Memories of the way her stream had curled and flowed through Ludan’s body billowed to the forefront of her thoughts. The sun’s warmth along her bare shoulders and arms gave way to the subtle tingle of Ludan’s gifts. They were hers to use. All she had to do was channel them.
Visualizing the stream in her mind’s eye, she wrapped the stone in a sleek, ivory ribbon and lifted. Smooth as the path she imagined, the rock drifted to Ludan and settled in his palm.
He pinged it right back to her and took three more steps back. “Again.”
More confident, she reached for his powers again. The energy was hazy, more undefined and elusive than before, but still within reach. She drew from it, building a bigger well of strength before she set the pebble free. It launched just as powerfully as before but lost its steam midway and nearly missed her target. “Something’s different.”
Ludan gauged the ten feet between them. “It’s the mirroring. You need my gifts to make it work. The farther away I am, the less you have to work from.” He doubled the distance and sent the stone back to her. “One more time.”
“It won’t work.”
“You won’t know until you try. Knowledge in a fight beats power every time. Know your strengths and your weaknesses.”
Ludan was right. This was war. Maybe not the knife-and-gun type, but a battle nonetheless. She fisted her hand around the rock. If she didn’t push herself, she’d never know what she could do. Unfurling her fingers, she sought Ludan’s power.
Fine, misty tendrils wavered just beyond her reach. There, but too insubstantial. “I can’t latch on.”
“Keep trying.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“When I try, it slips past me.”
“Then don’t play nice,” he snapped. “Take what you want.”
The bossy jackass. If she could use her hands instead of his gifts, she’d hurl the rock at his head. She ground her jaws together so hard her temples ached. With a mental swipe, she yanked the soft-spun energy to her and thrust the stone forward.
It bypassed Ludan’s outstretched hand and whacked him on the forehead.
Ludan gaped back at her and blinked over and over. A deep, slow chuckle shook his chest. The rumbling grew alongside his smile, bigger and bigger until he threw his head back and laughed to the sun-drenched sky.
He’d lost his mind. She’d hit him with a damned rock, and he was happy about it. “Why are you laughing?”
He sucked in a lungful of air and splayed one hand at his belly. “You hit me.”
“It was an accident.”
A fresh hoot doubled him at the waist. He planted his hands on his knees and let his laughter have full rein. “No it wasn’t.” He lifted his head, his smile stretching ear to ear. “You threw it at me.”
Okay, maybe she had. Sort of. Though, she hadn’t imagined her thoughts would manifest quite so literally. She studied her toes and fought the urge to fidget. God, she was an idiot. The guy tried to teach her something and she beaned him in the head. Classy.
Ludan’s laughter trailed off, and his footsteps scrunched against the soft grass. His black boots came into her line of sight. Mirth still coated his voice, but it was soft, too, laced with care and concern. “Brenna.”
Heat stung her cheeks. Too bad he hadn’t taught her how to mask first. Invisibility would be a handy trick right about now.
He lifted her face to his with a finger under her chin, the touch so tender it resonated everywhere. “I’m not mad.”
“You should be.”
Pulling her closer, he cupped the side of her face and his thumb swept across her check. “Why should I when I pushed you on purpose?”
Her churning guilt halted on a dime. “What?”
“Anger always pushes us past our fears. You got pissed and stomped right past your limits.” His eyes sparked with a warrior’s appreciation. “It was beautiful.”
Her heart fluttered and her breath lodged in her throat. He’d used those same words with her before, but never with that look on his face. Enthralled. As if the world could vanish and he wouldn’t care so long as she was with him. “You need to stop looking at me that way.”
His mouth quirked. “Hope creeping in again?”
She bit her lip and focused on her fingertips resting against his chest. “Something like that.”
He covered one of her hands with his, lifted it, and pressed a reverent kiss to
her palm. “You’ll get used to it.”
She doubted it. No woman in her right mind would ever get used to this sensation. It was too powerful, too all-consuming to ever settle easy on the senses.
Before she could tell him as much, he squeezed her hand and stepped away. “Time to work on casting fire.”
“Time to what?”
“You heard me.” He dropped her hand but stayed close, turning her so she faced the lake. “Everything works the same way you moved the stone. Flying, the elements—you generate or move them all with your mind.”
“How can you say this isn’t different? Fire is, well, huge. I could burn everything down.”
He cupped her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Besides, you’re aiming at water. The last I checked, fire’s got nothing on it.”
Great. Now he’d shifted into smarty-pants mode. Between the grouchy, bossy, and happy moods he’d already been through, it was starting to feel like she’d hooked up with the seven dwarves instead of a Myren badass. She frowned at the lake’s center and sighed. “Okay, so what do I do?”
He laced his fingers with hers, the palm of his hand against the back of hers. “You imagine it, you set it free, and you direct it.” He lifted their joined hands and aimed her palm toward the lake. “Simple as that.”
Simple for him maybe. She hated fire. Had ever since she’d bungled her first round with an oven and burned her fingertips so they blistered. “Does it hurt?”
“It feels no different than when you moved the rock.” He squeezed her shoulder with his free hand. “Now focus.”
The wind sent ripples across the water’s surface and whipped her hair against her cheeks. Water was safe. She couldn’t do any damage, or at least not much.
A memory from her childhood slipped into her thoughts. A campfire her father had built on a camping trip. The wood snapped as tiny sparks drifted beside soft coils of smoke. That fire had been good. Relaxing. She narrowed her mind’s eye on the flames. Rich, warm orange and gold with ribbons of red interwoven.
Eden's Deliverance (The Eden Series Book 4) Page 25
