by Ivy Asher
It seems so effortless for him to call the light in his hands, and I question what it is he’s going to do with the light that would put him in danger and at risk of being drained.
With every passing second, the light gets brighter, and then Toreon peels his fingers away, cupping both hands and revealing the ball of light he created.
I gasp, watching the power grow as I scoot closer. “It looks like you’re holding the sun.”
Toreon doesn’t respond, and when my eyes flicker up to his face, I see why. His brow is suddenly beaded with sweat, his face tense with strain. “Crap, are you okay?”
His attention stays wholly on the light he’s creating, his body beginning to shake with the effort it’s pulling from him. I watch as his eyes start to be leeched of color, the golden flecks in his irises morphing to gray, like speck by speck, he’s turning to ash as the power works hard to suck him dry.
“Sable…”
That one word spoken through a grimace is all I need to hear. I look down at my side, but my wounds there have long since stopped bleeding, just like the slice on my cheek has. Wasting no time, I dig into his pocket, not caring right now about the boundaries this may be pushing. My fingers close around the small file, and I immediately slash the pointed end across one palm, and then the other as deep as I can stand.
Suppressing a wince, I curl my hands, letting blood pool up in them until he’s cupping light, and I’m cupping life. To get a better vantage, I swing one leg over his outstretched calves on the floor and sit on his shins. Careful to avoid the power in his palms, I overturn my palms directly over his arms, letting my blood trickle down. Before any of it can drip off, my hands are there, swiping and rubbing it in, giving it all to him.
But as soon as I make the connection with my bleeding palms against his arms, heat rushes through my belly, my hands feeling like they’re being held under hot water from a faucet. Intense but not unpleasant heat seems to come from his skin as his body starts to soak up every drop I give him.
As quickly as I can bleed, he absorbs it, and I start to feel a distinct pull on my wounds like his body is begging for more. Something in him reaches deep into me and starts to wake up parts of me that have been shuttered away for practically my whole life.
I find myself panting with the sensation, and Toreon’s own breaths mirror my rapidly increasing intake. I can tell his lungs are working to sustain the use of so much power, but my breaths are coming hard and fast for entirely different reasons.
I’m doing it because the heat of Toreon, this unusual connection that’s working its way through me, has traveled south. Way, way south.
A sharp inhale cuts past my lips, and without even realizing what I’m doing, I find myself needing to be nearer, to be pressed as closely as I can to him. I want to crawl into his lap, feel him against me, test his desire with my grinding hips. Then I want to crawl inside of him, burrow into his soul, claim it, and then crawl back out and let him inside of me in every way possible.
“Shit.”
I hear his curse, but the inferno that’s passing between the two of us is too loud for me to focus on it. My pussy is suddenly empty and aching, and my clit sparking with heated want. It’s as though I’ve been waiting my entire life for him, for this, and now that it’s within reach, I can never let it go.
I rock against his shins, my body taking over without asking my logic for permission. There’s nothing but my dirt-streaked panties, blood soaked down one side from healing stab wounds to my stomach, and his ripped pants between us. But all at once, that feels like too much.
I try to move up closer, wanting—no, needing to line us up where I’m aching most. Toreon curses again as I nearly knock right into the miniature sun in his hands, but he manages to jerk his arms to the side at the last minute. It’s lighting up both our faces, casting us in a warm, golden glow that somehow makes him even more handsome than he looks in the shadows.
My blood continues to drip into him, his body drinking it up like roots to water, but I don’t feel the pain in my palms anymore, or even in my face. All I feel is the pull between the two of us, and this driving, insane need to have him.
I keep urging my hips forward, crazy with the desire to align myself, and even though I know deep down below this stunning warmth that I’m acting like a cat in heat, I can’t help it. As soon as my pussy finds his thick length beneath his pants, I shudder, my fingers tightening around his corded arms.
He’s hard. Deliciously, blessedly hard, and I nearly sob, so relieved to feel him, and yet so desperate to take his dick out to fill my emptiness up.
“Toreon, I need…” My voice is a whimper, barely recognizable even to my own ears.
“I know, sweet girl,” he says, his own tone sounding strained, but I have a feeling it’s not just from the draining power. “Almost…done…”
I mewl in protest, my eyes fluttering shut, because no, we’re not almost done. We need to do much, much more than this. If it weren’t for the fact that my bloodied palms on his arms are the catalyst to this joining, I would’ve already untied the front of his pants and dug inside to release his cock.
Just as I start to wonder if I can somehow do it with my mouth, the power in his hands flares so brightly that I have to bury my head into Toreon’s neck to keep the light from burning my eyes. But that just drives me wilder, because then my lips are pressed against his flesh, our chests touching with just my bra to keep us apart.
“One more second…” Toreon pants, and it takes great effort to turn my head to see what he’s doing, and just as I do, he picks up the metal cuffs that I’d knocked onto the floor in my haste to connect us. As soon as they’re all aligned, his hands move. He grabs the ball of light—now the size of a grapefruit, and I swear, when I squint at it, it’s almost like I can see another world inside.
Just as I try to lean in closer to see for sure, Toreon cracks it like an egg, and the yolk of the miniature sun spills out, dripping over the cuffs.
In seconds, all of the light has seeped out of the broken orb in his hands, and the cuffs ingest it, soaking it up like a drought-hardened ground soaks up rain. As soon as the last drop of light is gone, Toreon slumps, his body falling back onto the floor, and I land, sprawled out on top of him.
In my haste to catch myself before all my weight lands right on top of him, I moved my hands from his arms to the ground, and with a jarring crack, the heat that was budding between us is ripped away.
Reality slams through me, and my eyes widen, icy humiliation pelting over me like a hailstorm as I stare down at his face beneath me. “Oh my God…”
I quickly move to scramble off him, but Toreon grips my hips and stops me, keeping me on top of him. “Don’t,” he says, his tone rough and deep. I don’t know if it’s from the power suck, or the hard-on I feel beneath me, but either way, it makes my stomach flip.
“Toreon, I don’t know what came over me, I’m so sor—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he cuts me off. His eyes look up at me as I stay frozen against his chest, my hands braced on either side of his head. Like they have a mind of their own, my fingers inch in closer, playing with the long strands of his dark hair. I don’t dare touch his skin, just in case my gashes haven’t healed yet.
“What was that?” I ask breathlessly.
“The mating pull. Though that was far stronger than I’ve ever heard of before,” he tells me, his thumbs rolling slow circles over my skin right at the edge of my panties. “Your blood sings to mine when our powers meet. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“Why didn’t that happen before when I gave you my blood?” I ask, shock still ringing in my tone.
“It usually builds, but when one of us is using our power and pulling from the other person at the same time, it’ll be stronger.”
I snort at that. Stronger seems like a serious understatement for the life-altering thing that just happened.
I swallow, though my mouth is dry. “So you’re saying…th
at was us?” I ask.
He dips his chin in answer, and I’m relieved to see that his eyes no longer lack their golden color. I guess my blood packs a big punch. “Can I kiss you, Sable?”
His question catches me off guard, and I blink down at him. I just shimmied and grinded all up on him while he was harder than a steel pipe, but he’s still being a gentleman enough to ask me if he can kiss me. This guy just continues to break my heart.
I lick my lips, suddenly feeling shy. I think of all the reasons why I should say no. Why this place would taint anything that we start here, and why we should focus on what’s to come. But each of those reasons slip through my hands like water, finding all the cracks and crannies in my palms to sneak out of so I can see the truths I’m holding.
I find so many scenarios sitting in my palms for me to sort through like seashells. I shuffle through reasons upon reasons, like: in case we never get out, or Morax finds a way to win. Or if we do get out, but are torn away from each other, too wounded by what happened to see each other without Morax’s smudge.
And then there’s the part of me that wants to fill the darkness of this place with the kind of light that Toreon just held in his hand. Like the connection between us just might be bright enough to chase all the shadows away.
But it’s Toreon’s words about possibilities and how one small act can change so much, that has me nodding and whispering. “Yes, please.”
He smiles softly at my polite answer, but his hand comes up behind my head, his long, sure fingers threading into my hair. Then he draws me down gently until our lips are lightly touching. The pressure of his lips is barely there as he tests me, giving me time to draw lines or pull back. But when I don’t, his mouth slowly becomes more sure against mine.
I find myself wanting to quickly drink him down, but I stop myself, wanting to savor what we’re tenderly opening up between us in this moment. Toreon must have the same thought, because he doesn’t just dive in and rush the meeting of our tongues and our desire. He takes his time. Nibbling. Nipping. Testing the seam of my mouth. He caresses my scalp, brushes through my hair, his other hand staying securely on my waist, not stopping me when I rock back and forth over him.
Finally, when I can’t take it any longer, I open my mouth, my tongue reaching out to flick against his because I can’t stand any more of the teasing barely-there kisses. As soon as our tongues meet, he makes the sexiest groan I’ve ever heard, and the noise travels up his chest, pebbling my nipples, and then the heat between us works to consume us as we begin to devour each other.
Fingers digging into my scalp, he tilts my head right where he wants as he demands me to open wider, to taste everything he gives me. Our kiss owns me, heats me, connects me nearly as much as my blood did when it sunk into his body and our powers came out to play with one another.
With every swipe of his tongue and nip of his teeth, he brings my body to the cusp of something amazing, and I never ever want this moment to end. In my entire life, I’ve never felt such insane rawness and rightness with a person, and I could cease to be, right here in his arms, and be content.
He leaves my lips to travel down, giving me a chance to catch my breath, while he sucks and nibbles at my throat. Chills spread up and down my arms, and I grind against him again.
“Sweet Morningstar, you are exquisite…”
I laugh, and he pulls back slightly while I do the same. We both stare at each other, our chests rising and falling fast, arousal and desire as obvious as our swollen lips.
“Why are you laughing?” he asks, that soft smile I’ve come to love kicked up at one corner of his lips.
“Because. Nothing about me right now is exquisite,” I tease. “I’ve had nothing but sink baths for days or weeks or however long it is we’ve been down here, and all I’m in is dirty underwear.”
His golden eyes soften as he reaches up and tucks a strand of dark purple hair behind my ear, the move somehow just as intimate as our kiss was. “You are exquisite. Whether grimy in a dungeon or draped in the most precious of jewels. It’s still you, in my arms, just like this.”
I have to blink fast, surprised at the onslaught of emotion that tries to well up in my eyes. I smile and shake my head at him. “See? Cheesy. Are you sure you’re a demon? I thought they were all tough and brutish?”
His brilliant smile shouldn’t be as dazzling as it is, considering the conditions he’s been kept in, but it is, the sight nearly knocking my socks off.
And the sound of his laugh? I don’t care if he is a demon. It sounds like my version of Heaven.
His eyes dance with life, so different from the empty, hopeless look they used to have. “Oh, Sable. I don’t deserve you.”
I want to tell him that he does. That he’s the one who deserves the world, but I don’t—another Hallmark moment getting caught in my throat.
“So, did it work?” I say instead, drawing myself up. Toreon sits up with me, and holds me to keep me on his lap, though I notice he has to adjust himself a bit.
“It worked,” he replies, and I look down where he nods at the floor. The trio of cuffs that were once solid black now gleam with liquid light, the drips lazily floating inside.
“They’re beautiful,” I say honestly, reaching out to touch one. I hesitate, but Toreon gives me a nod.
“It’s safe.”
Skimming my fingertips over one, I feel the warmth it gives off. “That is so cool,” I murmur. “Too bad it’s for Morax. He doesn’t deserve power that’s so breathtaking.”
Toreon makes a noise that says he agrees. “Could you make something like this on anything else? Get us a way out of here?” I ask curiously.
He shakes his head. “This cage and my chains have heavy magic imbued in them. I’m only able to use my power when he explicitly tells me.”
I nod, because I didn’t expect it to be that easy, but I had to ask. I pull back and study him, my eyes sweeping over his face. “But you’re okay? You don’t need more…blood?” My cheeks instantly go pink just at the thought of my reaction. If I have to give him blood again, I’m not sure I could stop myself before I stripped him down and took things too far.
Toreon shakes his head, which both relieves and disappoints me. “No. Your blood is incredibly potent. It usually takes a lot more blood from a mate or a potential mate in order to renew our kind. But like I said, you’re exquisite and very, very strong.”
I smile. “Good. I’m glad I could help.” But rather than smiling back at me, Toreon grows troubled. “What’s wrong?”
“Morax,” he replies. “When he sees that I’m not drained of power and you’re not bleeding out and pale as a corpse, he’s going to realize just how much your blood revived me and how little you had to give me. He’ll know that he doesn’t have to keep waiting.”
“Keep waiting?”
Toreon nods. “My power was so drained I nearly died. He tossed me in here, just biding his time while I recovered. But now…”
“He’ll know how much I can charge you.”
“Yes.”
I blow out a breath. “It’s not ideal, but it’s okay,” I reassure him. “We already knew he was making plans. But at least now you and I know that you won’t die, not now that I’m here to pull you back from the brink,” I tell him, grasping his hand in mine. He looks down at the connection, like he’s still surprised that he has someone to touch. “I may not know what exactly your power is or what kind of demon you are, but I know I can help you when the time comes.”
Toreon raises a pair of guilty eyes. “Sable…”
I pause, holding my breath, because I just know that this is it. He’s finally going to tell me what he is.
“I—”
The door to the dungeon opens abruptly, making both of us jump, my heart nearly falling right through my chest at the startling interruption. As soon as I move past the surprise, I scramble up to my feet and rush over to the front of the cage to see who’s come in. I grip the bars to the cell as shouted voices reach
my ears.
“Medley! Where are we? What the fuck just happened? Medley!”
Three figures file in through the doorway, and the first is a glassy-eyed Medley, her face completely expressionless.
“What—Hey, get your fucking rhino hands off me!”
I strain to see around the bars as Vudu comes up at the rear, his hand clasped on the second woman’s arm. The vivid electric-purple hair and wings, the wicked scowl on her face, and the flashing gray eyes filled with outrage are all I need to confirm that this is my other sister.
This is Delta.
20
Delta shoots Vudu a scathing look before she looks wildly around the room of the dungeon. The blood leaches from her face. “Medley? Why the hell did you bring me here? You said you found Sable, that she would only talk to you and me. What the fuck is going on?” she asks desperately, shaking our other sister slightly when she doesn’t get an answer.
I look from her to Medley, and my heart hammers in my chest. Oh no.
I share a worried look with Toreon before I glance back at the checked-out, vacant look on Medley’s face. Did the compulsion sneak through?
When she left, I was certain that she was okay, but did Morax do something else after? She’s dressed now in jeans and a kind of halter top, and my stomach roils with anxiety. I want to ask if she’s okay, but I don’t know where Morax is, and we can’t risk him hearing anything.
Right as Delta wrenches her arm away from Vudu, footsteps sound behind her, and she whirls around just as Morax enters. A sharp intake of air between Delta’s lips comes a second before her shouted words. “You motherfucker!”
She raises her hand in the air while Medley watches impassively beside her. “Come on, Queen of Hearts, it’s time to take off this fucker’s head,” Delta growls, and that’s all the warning I get before her scythe suddenly appears in her grip.
