Darkness Surrendered (Primal Heat Trilogy #3) (Order of the Blade)

by Stephanie` Rowe

  Her body arched up under his touch, and suddenly his mouth was on her breast, and spirals of white heat raced through her, awakening all the facets of her being, chasing away the taint so thick on her soul until all that was there was him, her need for him, for his touch, for the connection that would bind them tighter.

  His hair brushed over her skin as he kissed her, and his hand slid down her belly and cupped her between her thighs, like he was staking ownership, announcing to the entire world that it was his territory, and he would take it at his leisure.

  There was such strength in Elijah’s body, in the way he kissed her and in the aggressive way his hand moved over her inner thigh. Such confidence. This was who he was, the male alive again after his mind had been shredded by the illusions. His body was humming with power and strength, and she craved him, craved the protection and safety he could give her.

  Ana gripped his muscular shoulders as he grazed his teeth over her nipple, as his hand began to move between her legs, teasing her through the denim. She worked her hands under his shirt, his muscles flexing beneath her grip. The skin that had been so battered after his battle with the Order was now flawless, healed through his own magnificent power. His teeth grazed over her other nipple as his fingers traced along the edge of her underwear, his touch tickling over her sensitive skin.

  She couldn’t contain the small moan, couldn’t keep herself from lifting her hips as heat raced through her, as fire built within her. For him. For Elijah. He was her strength. She felt it in her heart that he was what she needed. Even though she was his nightmare, his destruction, and his hell, he was her salvation. Her chance at redemption.

  He lifted his head and kissed her hard. At the same moment, he moved his hand past the waistband of her jeans, and his fingers slid beneath the satin, delving into the folds of her body. Delicious heat spiraled through her, and he caught her cry with his mouth, his tongue caressing her to new peaks even as his fingers teased her and brought fire raging to life.

  His fingers slipped inside her and her body shuddered from the intimacy of the invasion, the feel of her body stretching to accommodate him as he caressed her, teased her, brought her closer and closer to the edge.

  I need to touch you. She ran her hands down his lean hips to his waist, sliding to the front of his stomach, but he caught her hand, swept her other wrist in his grasp and pinned them above her head, never breaking the kiss, never losing the rhythm of his fingers between her legs.

  I need to be in control. His voice was rough with desire, with raw lust. I need to own you.

  She realized instantly what he meant. After the destruction she’d wrought on him with her illusions, he needed to shift the balance of power between them and dominate that which had the power to bring him down.

  He kissed her again, and this time there was a fierceness that hadn’t been there before, a need to control and to own…yet she felt no threat from him, no fear. His presence was aggressive, but there was tenderness in the way he kissed that made her soul ache with longing. He was domination, but he was still her protector.

  A thrill rushed through her at the power emanating from him. Hot anticipation licked through her as his hips began to thrust against her. Then his erection was brushing over the inside of her thighs as he tugged down her jeans, exposing her skin to his caress, his hand still moving deep within her, thrusting deep, preparing her, bringing her so close to the edge.

  Her hips lifted again as he moved his hand and caught the thin strap of her underwear where it spanned her hip. He slid it down ever so slowly, each inch torture as it brushed over her skin. His satisfaction pulsed at her, and she knew he could sense how desperate she was for him. He was basking in his power not to give her what she wanted. Not yet.

  This was about him, his control and it was driving her mad with want. With longing. With a need so unbearable she felt like her body was going to explode and he was relishing the power he had over her, even as his own body trembled with need, and she felt his lust hard and deep in her mind where he touched hers.

  Then the thin scrap of material was gone, and his hips settled between hers. There was nothing between them. Somewhere, at some point, he’d lost his jeans. How had she not noticed?

  Heat and anticipation coiled inside her as she felt the nudge of his erection against her core. He groaned and lifted himself off her, his triceps flexing as he held himself above her, kissing her thoroughly, as only his belly touched hers, his hips suspended.

  A deep ache pulsed within her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to pull him down. I need you, Elijah.

  Ana. His voice was a dark growl, and his body was vibrating above hers, then he cursed. We can’t make love and tighten the bond.

  His voice was like a shot of cold air in her mind, but before she could respond, he slid down her body, his lips kissing a blazing path down her belly and lower. He palmed her hips with fierce aggression, and then his mouth was on her core, an onslaught of sensations that spiraled relentlessly through her.

  Her body shuddered, her mind shrieked from the intensity of the sensations consuming her, and suddenly her body bucked under the assault and the climax flooded her. His grip on her thighs didn’t relax. He caught her folds between his teeth and sucked hard, sending her shooting into another orgasm, her body writhing under him.

  God, yes, Ana. Like that. There was such satisfaction in Elijah’s voice as he continued to kiss her, carrying her through the final waves of the orgasm. She basked in his confidence and strength, something she hadn’t been sure she’d ever see again when she’d walked in on him in that basement.

  Ana was still shuddering when he grabbed her hand and guided it to his erection.

  Elijah was hard and hot beneath her hand, his skin velvet soft. She closed her fingers around him and he let out a soft moan and began to move his hips.

  “Don’t you want to make love?”

  “Hell, yes.” He moved up and pressed his face into the crook of her neck, his pelvis rocking under her touch. “Can’t risk the bond.” He was breathing hard, his body tense as she wiggled out of his grasp and slid downward. “Can’t lose my mind. Can’t get that close to you—” He lost the words when her mouth closed over the tip of him.

  Ana felt a sense of power as he groaned and rolled onto his back, his body rigid beneath her as she licked her way along his shaft to the base. He was raw muscle and power, yet he was shuddering, giving himself over to her in a complete reversal of power from what he’d insisted upon moments before. Her chest tightened at the thought of him making himself vulnerable to her. To her. For all that she was to him, for as badly as she could hurt him at any second simply by dropping her shields and letting the illusions fly, Elijah was putting himself entirely at her mercy, trusting her completely.

  Her body coiled with excitement, and she cupped his balls as she kissed her way back up to the top of his shaft, his body trembling beneath her. “No.” He gripped her hair and pulled her off him and rolled her on her back, once again taking the position of power above her. “Just use your hand.”

  “Why?” She clasped his erect member and began to stroke him.

  “Bad memories,” he whispered. “Can’t go there.”

  Oh, no. More illusions? What had been done to him? Her heart broke for him, for all he had suffered. She knew this one wasn’t her fault, because she was certain she’d never damaged him in that way with her illusions. So someone else, something else, before she’d met him.

  No wonder he’d crashed so fast this last week. He had a past—

  Oh dear God. Ana suddenly knew what it had to be, what had to have happened to him before. Tears stung at her eyes as she grasped him, sliding along the length of him as his hips moved faster beneath her touch. His hand stayed in her hair, but his grip softened to a caress as his body went harder and faster, his jaw tight, his eyes shut—

  Was he pretending she wasn’t the one touching him? That it wasn’t an Illusionist who held him so tightly?<
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  Elijah’s eyes snapped open, and he met her gaze, his green depths holding hers as his body went rigid under her touch. He shouted as the orgasm swept over him, taking him as ruthlessly as she’d been taken by her own.

  And his gaze never left her face. Not even for a split second. I know it’s you, Ana. I wouldn’t be able to stand the touch of anyone else, now that I’ve known yours. Never, ever think I’m thinking about anyone else when I’m with you like this. Ever. His hand went to the back of her head and he tugged her close enough so he could kiss her, his grip so tight on her, his kiss so tender that her entire being trembled. I can’t allow you to think that I want anyone else when I’m with you. Know that truth, no matter what happens.

  Ana pulled back to look into his face and he softened his grip to allow her to move, but he didn’t release her. She saw the stark honesty in his gaze, the honor that he lived by as an Order member. He meant it, every word, and she wanted to cry for that truth. “How can you want me and despise me at the same time?”

  Elijah put his finger over her lips, silencing her. “How can you actually think I despise you after that?” He thumbed her lips as he sank down beside her and hauled her against his heated body. “Sweetheart, I kissed you only to show you that I didn’t have a problem with it, and then I was instantly lost in the magic you weave around me. I had no chance of stopping. Your kiss crashes straight to the depths of my soul and makes me yours.”

  Oh…melting time. “Okay, so that might be the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.” Ana snuggled against Elijah. It felt so incredible to be held by him, to be nestled in the strength of his embrace and feel the warmth of his body surrounding her. Happiness. Peace. Perfection of this moment. “Then what is it? What’s going on with us?”

  “Ah…” Elijah’s fingers sifted through her hair, and he nuzzled her neck. “Honestly?”

  Ana nodded, smoothing her hand over his chest, unable to stop herself from touching him, needing to feel the hardness of his muscles beneath her hand.

  “So, yeah, this isn’t the most manly thing to admit,” Elijah said, his voice laced with irony, “but honestly, you scare the living shit out of me on a level I can’t even begin to comprehend. You make my gut twist, you make visions of pure hell rise in my mind, and you enrage me because you make me feel so weak and terrified.”

  “Oh.” Ana’s heart sank, all her excitement from his prior declaration fizzling away. “I wish I didn’t do that to you.” Where was the magic of the sheva bond? Was she so tainted that she could destroy even that?

  “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay.” Elijah’s eyes darkened to a deep green, and he brushed a kiss over her mouth. “Because at the same time, you give me the gift of sanity, even if it still threads my mind with darkness and violence. I’ll take what you give me, Ana. When you’re touching me, at least I know what’s real and what’s not.” His brand burned where it rested against her belly. “The thought of having a sheva should fill me with horror, but there’s so much hell in my head right now that the doom of the sheva destiny just doesn’t matter compared to the risk of descending back into that madness again…” Elijah groaned and pulled her tighter against him, as if he were trying to bury himself inside her. “Touching you is the only thing that stops it.”

  Ana’s heart broke a little bit at his words. That was all she was to him? Just a link to his sanity? Did he feel nothing of the emotional intensity that was consuming her? Of course he wouldn’t. Why would he? The man still had a brain, and he knew what kind of a flawed nightmare she was. But what about his claim about getting lost in her magic? That had to be more than the sheva bond, right? Or not. Maybe she was just trying to find a connection where there was none, where she deserved none.

  Ana took a breath, trying to will away the swell of loneliness and concentrate on Elijah, on helping him. “What exactly happens to you when your mind fragments?” Her hand trailed down his arm, over the brand on his forearm, aware of his heated gaze watching her. He wasn’t the only one who needed to touch. So did she.

  “I see demons. They come after me.” As the confession spilled effortlessly out of him, Elijah knew in that moment why it was Order policy that Order shevas had to die. He was barely bonded with Ana, and it felt so damn good to lie there holding her that he never wanted to move. He felt like she was his only light in the hell beating at him. The demons were lurking inside him, held at bay only by Ana’s touch, by her kindness, by the peace she infused into him with not just her touch, but the entirety of her spirit.

  She lifted her gaze to his. “I can feel their darkness,” she said. “And your panic. You lose perspective. You lose who you are, the strong, powerful warrior who knows he can defeat anything.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do.” He laced his fingers through hers. “Ana—”

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  “About six hundred, give or take a few years.” He moved closer so his face was nuzzled in her neck and took a deep breath, like he was feasting on her, building up his store so he could move on.

  “Six? But Quinn and Gideon are five hundred, and you guys joined the Order together?”

  He was quiet for a long moment before he finally answered. “I had a life before the Order.”

  Ana nodded. She finally understood, and her heart bled for him. She ran her fingers though his hair, as if her touch could ease the words she was about to say. “When you first met me, when you found out I was an Illusionist, before I did anything to you, you hated me. You still do. Even as the sheva bond makes you want me, you still recoil from me. Or are terrified by me or whatever you want to call it.”

  His fingers tightened around hers and he rubbed his thumb over her palm. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not intentional, and it’s separate from how I feel about you. It’s an instinctive reaction to a threat that you represent, not you actually.”

  “I know, but I think…” Ana sensed Elijah didn’t want to talk about it, but she had to know what they were dealing with. “What happened to you in those hundred years before you joined the Order?”

  His body stiffened, and she felt his immediate withdrawal. “Why do you ask?”

  Ana shifted, rolling onto her side so she could look at him. His face was stoic, revealing nothing, but those walls told her how much he was hiding. “Illusionists were originally ‘discovered’ by ancient rulers who used them to torture prisoners. To make the prisoners go insane. Your intense reaction to me when we met indicates that you were tortured by Illusionists before. Not just once. Many, many times.”

  She’d been thinking of her origins a lot lately, and it made her sick to think about what she was descended from, what she was created to become. But to think of Elijah exposed to it was so very much worse than worrying about what kind of monster she was evolving into.

  Elijah sat up suddenly, his fists bunched. “No.”

  Ana propped herself up on her elbows, wishing that she believed him, wishing so much that neither of them had to deal with the nightmare of her kind. “If you were tortured by Illusionists before you joined the Order,” she said carefully, as gently as she could, “and then you were tortured by Frank and then me…of course you’d have difficulty managing it. It’s extraordinary that you survived as long as you did and as well as you did. You must have unbelievable strength.”

  She’d heard stories from her parents about what happened to people who were tortured by Illusionists, and Elijah fit the description perfectly. She set her hand on his, trying to ease the memories she was afraid she was stirring up. “That’s what happened, isn’t it? What I did to you for the last week shouldn’t have been enough to make you…” She hesitated, not wanting to inflict judgment on him.

  Elijah shot her a sharp glare as he surged to his feet and yanked his jeans up. “Violent? Terrified? Unable to distinguish between real threats and imagined ones? Paranoid? Completely fucking insane?”

  “Yes.” She set her hand on his ankle, wincing at his frustration. She could
only imagine how hard it would be for a warrior who’d been at the top of his game for five hundred years to be so out of control. “Even the strongest mind would crumble after years and years of Illusionist abuse. Especially if it started when you were young. I’ve heard stories, Elijah, and you fit.”

  He left his pants undone, parted at the waist to reveal his hard stomach and narrow hips. He searched her face, the plea for help so raw that her heart broke for him. “How do people who have been tortured like that recover?”

  She let out her breath. “They don’t. The mind is simply too broken.”

  “Fuck that. My mind’s not broken.” But tension was vibrating off him, and his muscles were rigid.

  “No, it’s not.” Not entirely. Not yet. “But—”

  Elijah narrowed his eyes at her. “But what?”

  She met his gaze. “But it’s a gradual descent that sucks you deeper each time you face another illusion. You don’t come up from where you’ve been, but you keep falling further. Even if there are no more illusions…reality will keep twisting on you…”

  “No. I’m not going down. I can’t.”

  “I know.” Ana stood up and reclaimed her own jeans as he spun back toward her.

  Elijah shoved her hands off her pants and fastened them himself, as if he needed to do something useful. “So, let me get this straight,” he growled. “I’m going to go insane, and you’re going to stop me, but at the same time, the closer I bond with you, the more of your illusions I’ll see in my own head, so you’ll actually drive me insane faster. Right?”

  “Probably.” She swallowed. “I’m sure it would be better if we weren’t together, but—”

  “But I have no choice.” Elijah swore softly and hooked his hand over the waistband of her jeans. “So I stay tight until I finally lose my mind for good? And when do we know when it’s over? When I finally turn on you and rip your limbs from your body? Shove my throwing star into your heart like some beast?” He fisted his hand, tension rolling off him in thick waves. “Fuck that. I’m not going that way. I’m not going to go to a place where I hurt someone I care about again.”