Claimed: Paranormal Romance (Immortals, Vampires and Shifters) (Many Lives Book 4)

by Laxmi Hariharan

  "You Ascendants share a psychic network?" Leana's eyes widen.

  "It's how we knew Mikhail had found his mate." Zayn grins. "We saw you connected to him."

  "And Noah? He's still part of your network?" she asks.

  Clever shifter female. I tilt my head. Not for the first time do I admire her keen intelligence.

  "He's still part of it, except we've blocked him out."

  "A temporary block that we can lift at the appropriate time," Mikhail adds.

  "So, you can read each other's thoughts through this network?" she asks, cheeks blushing a fiery red.

  "Not like that," I rush to elaborate, lips drawing back in a chuckle. "We can sense each other on the psychic plane, but we can’t read each other's intimate thoughts."

  "Ugh! No way do I want to be in Kris's head," Zayn snorts, nudging me.

  Ignoring the brat, I go on. "Most times we are simply aware of the others' presence. It's a way of alerting each other should the need arise," I add.

  Her eyebrows rise as Leana turns her gaze back on Mikhail. "Something else you didn't tell me...husband?"

  The endearment stops Mikhail in his tracks. His eyes light up. "Not something I knowingly hid from you...wife."

  Zayn makes a choked noise. "You guys...I know you are newly married and all, but perhaps you should tone it down? Keep your lovey-dovey looks for when you are behind closed doors?"

  "Never," Mikhail says, voice vehement. "I’m never going to hide what I feel for Leana."

  His eyes dart to me for a second. Implicit in his words is the message that it's time I stopped suppressing what I feel for Tara.

  "I wish all happiness to you, my brothers." Mikhail looks around at all the Ascendants before his eyes come to rest on mine. "I hope one day you have what I have."

  His words slice my heart. And when he pulls Leana close, touches her lips with his, I turn to leave.

  And see Tara. In her eyes is a shining need. Naked want. The kind I can't ignore.

  Not anymore.

  I don't remember walking out of the group; but I’m halfway across the grass, cutting through the people milling around, before I realize what I’m doing.

  Yet, I don't stop. Don't take my eyes off her face.

  Her nostrils flare. Can she scent my lust all the way from here?

  She takes a step forward and stops. She juts out her hip and throws back her head, auburn hair swirling as a gust of sea breeze blows between us. She’s pushing me back, warning me to keep my distance.

  It's too late for that.

  I take a step forward, intending to go to her, when a male steps in between us and begins talking to her. His shoulders are wide enough to block Tara from my sight. His movements are supple, predatory enough to mark him out as a shifter.

  He leans into her, bending her over his arm as he kisses her.

  13

  Tara

  I'm still reeling from the emotions of the wedding. I’m about to step forward and congratulate Leana and Mikhail, and then I see him.

  As always, the devil's crept up on me.

  He wears loose cotton pants and a long shirt that falls to mid-thigh. The soft material clings to his shoulders, to the contours of his chest. The light from the sun caresses the planes of his body, throwing his face in shadow.

  He walks toward me, cutting through the people who fall back as they sense his determination.

  When he holds my gaze captive, his intent leaps across the space, slamming into my chest.

  Naked want on his face.

  The kind I never thought I'd never see in his eyes.

  Across the distance, it's as if he's reached out to me, for I sense a psychic brush against my senses for the first time. It’s full of heat and lust laced with a scent that is so uniquely him, a want to possess, to own me, to bury himself in me until he forgets the yearning I invoke in him.

  He hates how I make him feel.

  He can't resist how I make him need me.

  Hand on my waist, I jut out my hip. Strapped to my thigh is my knife, concealed by my dress. It's a simple cut, made of cotton. I chose it because the thin material sticks to my curves, sliding with every step I take and brushing my bare breasts, my thighs. It's hot, and sweat trickles down my back. Yet when a gust of wind blows over me, I shiver and feel my nipples pucker up.

  His eyes rake over my body, the curve of my waist, the hollow between my legs. He's eating me up with his gaze.

  My thighs clench, and I feel myself go wet.

  Caught in his spell, I take a step toward him, when a figure cuts in between us.

  A male as tall as the devil blocks out those piercing blue eyes that hold me in thrall.

  I shiver as the connection breaks. My eyes are reluctantly drawn to the face of the stranger.

  The devil just found his opposite.

  Where Kris is dark rage and unspoken desires, this stranger wears his emotions on his face like a badge of honor. His dark blond hair glimmers in the fading sun, and his golden brown eyes flare at me, crinkling at the corners as he smiles.

  I blink. It's been a while since I saw someone look at me with unguarded friendship in his eyes, with no hidden messages, no pull to dig deep, to guard against the attraction that draws me to him. Not like the devil.

  Even as the stranger closes the distance between us, I know he's safe. He stops in front of me, golden eyes sparkling with amusement.

  "That brute glowering behind me." He jerks his head over his massive shoulders clad in a long sleeve black shirt. "You want to give him something to be really jealous about?" His voice is deep with the hint of a musical accent I can't quite place.

  "Jealous?" I'm not quite sure what he means. Then it sinks in. "You mean, make him think—"

  "That I'm trying to seduce you…which I'm not, of course." He holds up his hands, lips pulled back in a grin. "Not that it would be any hardship. Quite the opposite." His eyes travel down my body.

  Where the devil's gaze had claimed me as his, this male's attention is flirtatious, admiring. Harmless enough to draw a chuckle from me.

  "The way you look at him, it's clear you are hopelessly in love with him too."

  "You read all that in just one glance?" I ask, not sure if I should be angry or if it just means I should learn to hide my emotions better.

  "When a woman looks at a man with such longing, it burns those standing within a hundred feet; and when the man reciprocates the feelings but is taking his time in making a move...then it's my duty to intervene and accelerate things a bit."

  "So, this is an intervention?"

  Before I can say anything more, he swoops down on me, bending me over his arm with a flourish, and kisses me.

  By the time he finishes, I’m gasping a little. The kiss had been hot enough to hint that if I responded, there might even be a spark between us. But the shape of his mouth, the feel of his lips, is not the one I want.

  Placing me back on my feet, his arms drop to his side. "Think that got him riled enough to do something about it?" he asks.

  "Ah!" I stutter, unsure what to say. I don't need to peek around him to see how Kris reacted to that little exhibition. For even with the stranger acting as shield, I sense the anger, the waves of jealousy and despair, leap at me.

  I've prodded him, pushed him over the edge, I’m sure. Either I lose him now, or else…the stranger's plan might just work.

  Either way, I need to shore up my courage.

  "Damn!" I grab a drink from a passing waiter and throw it back, choking as the alcohol hits my stomach and fills my veins with liquid fire. It’s too close to how Kris makes me feel. And that helps me make my mind up. "You want to help me?" I ask. A flush rises to my cheeks as the stranger surveys me down his angular nose.

  "Never could resist a dare. What do you have in mind?" His eyebrows slash down.

  "Get me out of here," I say, forcing the words out through lips gone dry. "Make sure he sees us, that he comes after us. Then—"

  "Then I leave," the
stranger interjects smoothly.

  He holds out his hand to me. When I slip my arm through his, he surprises me by rubbing my hand with his, warming my fingers gone cold with nervousness.

  "I’m Cain, by the way." His voice is reassuring. Calm.

  "Tara." My voice comes out thready.

  "If you ever change your mind, Tara…" His voice is light; but when I look at his face, his eyes are intent, amber eyes which glint with golden specks.

  Familiar eyes.

  "Have I met you before?" I peer into his face then gasp. "You're the lion shifter who saved us?"

  He tilts his head. "Cain Dupris." His voice is a purr rippling across my skin. "We haven't really met, not in my human form. But I’m happy to rectify that and get to know you a lot better." A wicked glint gleams in his eyes.

  I poke my elbow into his ribs. "Stop flirting," I admonish.

  "Sorry," he says, not sounding it at all.

  "No, you're not." I chuckle before adding, "You're a shifter, but you're not from around here, though."

  He hesitates.

  I grip his arm. "You don't need to tell me," I add. "I don't need to know if you're illegal. There are many trying to enter the city to find a place to stay here. It's wrong what the Council is doing, restricting the city only to those who are qualified and have the skills that help the economic progress of the city."

  "And yet there is poverty and crime, too, in this ‘Shining Hope of the East.’ " An edge to his voice catches my attention. Before I can ask anything more, he says, "What made you think I’m illegal?"

  "Aren't you?" I counter his question with one of my own as we break through the grove of palm trees and enter a small clearing. The sounds from the wedding are muted here.

  In reply, he brings my fingers to his lips. "Your mate is here, princess. If I were you, I'd push your advantage right away. Don't wait."

  As if to mark his words, a sound behind me has me jerking my head. When I turn back, Cain is gone, melting in the darkness.

  Then the hair on the nape of my neck prickles.

  A rush of hot breath sears my cheek as the devil’s hands slide around my waist, pulling me to him.

  14

  Kris

  Seeing Tara leave with the male sends a rush of fear through me. In the few seconds it takes to reach the clearing, the rage builds, slamming against my temples. Too late. I’m too late. Has she found someone else?

  The thought of another male's hands on her sends a jolt of rage through me. My control cracks and the dominance roars to the fore.

  Then, I see her, neck arched as she looks in front. She's poised on her toes as if ready to flee. She's alone.

  No sign of the stranger. Yet, I can't force my muscles to relax. That force inside, once unleashed, insists I go to her, take her, make her mine. Until now, I was not aware of how much she means to me.

  I was afraid to let myself feel, to care for her, afraid I'd lose her. But it would be worse if I pushed her away, if she sought solace in someone else's arms.

  Another throb of jealous rage roars through my veins. It pushes me to step into the clearing. Approaching her, I slide my arms around her waist.

  The scent of green apples surrounds me, tugging at me. And just like that, I'm hard.

  "You left me." It's not what I wanted to say, but it's the first words which tumble out.

  Then, the witch takes me by surprise.

  Turning, she hooks her leg around mine and pulls. Her elbow thrusts into my gut and the breath whooshes out of me.

  The next thing, I'm on my back. The back of my head connects with the hard ground, the scabbard slamming against me, shooting a throb of pain through my head.

  But that is nothing compared to the heat that slams into me as her legs wrap around my waist, straddling me. She grips my arms and brings them over my head, holding me captive.

  If I wanted, I could shove her off or pull my arms from her grip. But I don't. I can't think of a single place I'd rather be than here.

  She leans over me, her nose so close to mine she's almost horizontal, waist up.

  I look into those eyes, the green flashing at me, holding me captive. Her pupils dilate until all that’s left is flecks of gold. She's aroused.

  As am I.

  She must feel my hardness thrust up against her. And it's all I can do not to move fast, to flip her over. No, not yet.

  Let her initiate the first move. She brought me here. Now I’m curious how far she will take things. She's not the only one who can tease, prolonging the inevitable. Except I'm not sure how long I'm going to last, not when her eyes rake over my lips, her glance a blaze of heat, burning me in its wake and reducing me to ashes.

  She's burning me up.

  Holding my wrists shackled, she closes the distance between us, enough for her breasts to press against my chest. Through the thin material of my shirt, I feel her nipples harden. My hands twitch with the need to reach for them, to cup them and hold that sweet weight in the palms of my hands.

  As if sensing my thoughts, she swallows. Her tongue flashes out to touch her lips, sending another flush of liquid desire throbbing straight to my core.

  Sweat trickles down my temple, and she follows it as if fascinated. Leaning, she catches the drop with her tongue, following its progress and leaving a wet trail in its wake. Then she slurps her tongue over my lips, and every nerve ending in my body snaps to attention, so hard that the agony slices through all conscious thought.

  "You'll regret this." My voice comes out harsher than intended.

  In response, she sinks her nails into my shoulder. The pain only heightens the desire throbbing through me. And I can't hold back any more.

  The next moment she's under me, my arms on either side of her, supporting the weight of my body so as not to overwhelm her.

  "I want you," she says, her breath shuddering over my skin, leaving pin-pricks of desire in their wake.

  In reply, I capture her lips with mine. When she opens her mouth in shock, I plunge in, sliding my tongue forward to tangle with hers. The earthy, spicy taste of her fills my mouth and goes straight to my head, making it whirl.

  After widening my thighs so she's snuggled in between my legs, I cup a breast and flick the hard nub of her nipple that thrusts against her dress.

  Her body shudders, and her hips jerk up against my hardness, sending a jolt of desire throbbing through. I swallow the groan torn out of her before I run my palm down her waist and grip her hip.

  Below me, another groan tears out of Tara, teasing at my nerve endings, driving me over the edge. I want to take her with me this time. Want to drive her a little mad with desire, the way she's been doing all this time.

  Flicking my tongue over her lower lip, I place a series of kisses down her throat to the base of her neck. Here her scent is deeper, more mysterious: green apples with a taste of wild fire that sends a flush of heat racing through my veins.

  And that's my undoing.

  15

  Tara

  The warmth of his body pours over me, surrounding me and sinking into my skin. It's as if every part of me is on fire.

  For so long have I wanted him. I've wanted to feel his fingers on my skin, his lips tasting me, sipping from me; and now when he touches me, I feel like I'm going into sensory overdrive. Every nerve ending comes alive at his touch, crackling with desire. A passion that catches fire. An aching at my very center that makes me conscious of how empty I am.

  It's as if the devil senses my thoughts, for his fingers slide under the skirt of my dress and brush against my core. That’s when I shatter. A gasp shudders through me, but his lips are already on mine, pulling at me, tugging at my very essence. Swallowing me up. Then he slides his fingers inside me and a piercing sweetness grips me. Pain. And pleasure.

  More than anything else, I feel the force of his personality. Feel his dominance pressing down on me. Delighting me. Yet, holding me down. I find myself dissolve a little more, beginning to lose myself in him, and that's w
hen I panic.

  I knew he wouldn't be a gentle lover, but nothing prepared me for the sheer force of his presence that threatens to overpower me.

  My fingers dig into his biceps, trying to hold him back. I’m sure he's too far gone and won't be able to stop himself.

  But his senses must be tuned into my needs, for Kris tears his mouth from mine. Withdrawing his fingers, he brushes them against my inner thigh. The touch meant to soothe rather than arouse.

  His eyes are bright blue pools of desire, and it makes me feel so wanted.

  "I'm going too fast for you," he says, voice soft. Then he does something that completely melts my heart. He bends his head to nuzzle my neck.

  A tremor of need runs through me. I want this male, and yet...I realize he was right. I need time to adjust to him, to how he makes me feel.

  I’m about to speak, when he places a finger on my lips. "Shh! You don't need to say anything, baby. It's my fault. I held myself back for so long; and now when I feel you under me, it's driving me a little crazy. When I saw you earlier with that shifter male..." His muscles bunch, tension simmering off him. I realize then that he cares for me more than he can say.

  I place my palm against his cheek, tracing that hard jaw. "I'll never do that to you again," I promise.

  Closing his eyes, a shudder runs through him. Then he leans his forehead against mine.

  "I couldn’t bear it if I hurt you. But I want you. I want to take care of you, dammit." Leaning back, he peers into my eyes, even as his voice rises in frustration.

  "Do it," I say. "Take care of me." I allow my lips to draw back in a flirtatious smile.

  And just like that, the mood between us changes, an edge of mischievousness creeping in.

  "You daring me, baby?" he growls. His blue eyes gleam with humor. "Don't you have any sense of self-preservation?"

  "None." I hold his gaze. I will not back down, not this time. "Not with you."

  I know I'm teasing him, but I can't help it. I have a strong immortal warrior in my arms. I've felt him shudder with pleasure as he kissed me. I am filled with a sense of power like never before.