Bliss

by Renee Field

  There were so many questions scrambling around in her brain that she felt fried. Who? No. What exactly was Darius? Was he a prince? What was wrong with the child? Where did he come from? And worse, was she ever going to get free, unbound from this mysterious, passionate man and the ancient book? The book she was now wishing she’d never found and never opened.

  That old proverb, “Curiosity killed the cat,” haunted her thoughts.

  Momentarily drawn back to their strange conversation, she blinked when the child started to convulse. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Ushering her to the door, Darius said, “It’s nothing. You need to leave.” He darted anxious glances at his nephew.

  Great we’re back to the one syllable answers. “Fine, I’ll leave. I’ll be on the other side of this door. I’ll just sit, propped up here like a puppet. Oh my god, foam is coming out of his mouth. Darius we need to take him, your nephew, for god sake to a doctor. Now.”

  “No, we don’t. And, no, we aren’t. This is a family matter. Look, I’m sure you’ll be safe in that side room. I need to stay with him for awhile.”

  That was it. The door closed quietly this time and as much as it killed her not to intervene, something within her told her it would be no use. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts, she practically jumped out of her skin when Saad’s fingers brushed her arm.

  As usual his formal speech grated on her nerves. “I did not mean to frighten you, my lady, but there is nothing you can do for them. Why don’t you and I take a walk? I believe dinner, as you say, is being served. Come, please be my guest.” He ushered her down a long hall to the dining room.

  Kassandra wanted to say no, partially because she was afraid that moving too far from Darius would start the burning pain again, but also because she felt uneasy around Saad. He was flawlessly polite, but there was something within him that warned her to flee.

  But she didn’t exactly have a plethora of choices at the moment. Pasting a polite smile on her own face, she turned and took his offered arm.

  They made their way down the long corridor to the formal dining room. Formal, because it happened to have one of the largest dining tables she’d ever seen. It was close to twenty feet in length and it could easily seat a hundred people. The table was made of red cherry wood, and it gleamed the color of dried blood when it caught the light from the old-fashion iron wrought chandelier.

  Saad clapped his hands twice, and a dozen servants walked in with dish after dish of food. It was a feast fit for a king.

  Saad gallantly pulled out the mahogany high-backed chair for her. She sat and eyed the banquet. There was fresh poached salmon with dill sauce, fried kippers, and lobster on the half shell, lobster bisque, snow crab legs glazed in a garlic cream sauce, mussels, and urchins. The guy must have a hankering for seafood.

  Saad picked up a crab leg and sucked the meat out of it. “So, my dear, how is our young patient?”

  “Fine,” she answered, deciding to tackle the lobster bisque first.

  “Fine. I am most sure he is not. But enough of that, do tell me, how do you know Darius.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was a command and her back immediately went up. Before she could respond, though, the exotic beauty who had attempted to latch herself onto Darius when they arrived sashayed in. This time she wore a concoction that reminded her of the old television show I Dream of Jeannie.

  “Sorry I am late, master. I could not find the diamond anklets you gave me, and I sooo wanted to wear them.” She moaned out the last words, and it was all Kassandra could do to not gag on her soup.

  “Third dresser drawer to the right,” blurted Kassandra before she could help herself. Hoping her words had fallen on deaf ears, she tried smuggling another. Instead, when she looked up, four piercing blue eyes were staring at her.

  Saad placed the crab leg down and leaned over the long table, “What did you say?”

  Taking a large spoonful of soup she gulped, “Nothing.”

  “No, my dear, you specifically said third dresser drawer to the right. Fiona please excuse yourself and take another look, exactly where our guest told you to.”

  The look Fiona darted her way before gracefully exiting the room was full of pure hatred. The silence in the dining hall was suffocating. Kassandra almost wished Fiona would hurry up and return so she could get the meal over with and then get back to Darius.

  Fiona almost skipped back into the dining room. “She was correct, but I never put them there.”

  “Ahh, my dear, does Darius know?” Saad’s eyes gleamed with triumph, and the smile that lit up his face only heightened Kassandra’s unease.

  “Know what?” she asked, giving up on the ploy of trying to stuff her mouth with more food.

  “My dear, you are a Seeker. This is truly delectable.”

  Seeker. That sounds ominous. “Do I want to know what that is?” she asked, slanting her eyes.

  The smirk that arose on Saad’s face caused her to flush. She felt like he was reading her mind, and that scared the shit out of her. Great now I’m paranoid which tops being delusional.

  Not taking his eyes off hers he reached out and grabbed the lobster.

  “Does he know?” he asked again.

  How he managed to eat the lobster without sending shards of it clear across the room amazed her. It was a talent she’d love to learn.

  “Know what?” She reached for the snow crab, watching as the melted butter dripped onto the polished table. Great, no stains until I came along. She held her breath as she waited for the reprimand that always followed. Her father believed in spotless, neatness and manners that would have made the Queen happy.

  “You can find lost things.”

  He said it so matter of factly she actually stopped chewing and breathed. He said it like it was normal. Like it was okay. And that really scared her. Part of her ached to deny the validity of his statement, but one look at Saad and she knew it would be futile.

  “I will keep your secret, but heed my advice, tell him soon. He is not a being that takes kindly to secrets, especially from a woman.” The word woman was said with such contempt that he actually grimaced.

  “Saad, shall I dance for you?” asked Fiona sweetly as she gracefully rose from her chair.

  She had been so quiet while Kassandra ate that she had forgotten Fiona was still in the room with them. Eyeing the exotic beauty as she stood, Kassandra inwardly groaned. Great, just what I want to watch, genie-girl flounce around the room, jiggling it all for Saad. Kassandra quickly lost what was left of her appetite.

  The shrill scream that rent through the air immediately broke the mood and actually caused the chandelier to vibrate.

  Without preamble all three rushed to the source – her bedroom, where the child and Darius were. Kassandra didn’t hesitate opening the door as another piercing scream curdled her blood.

  “Get out!” The command was so strong she turned back toward the door, but then she caught herself. What else could he do to her? A slight shiver of the unknown, the fear of disobeying him ran like cold water over her skin.

  “I told you he had the plague,” said Saad, ushering Fiona from the room with one look.

  But Kassandra noticed Saad didn’t stray far from the door.

  Darius stood awkwardly by the bed. His hands were clenching and unclenching. He looked like a beast who had run a marathon inside his cage only to find out there was no way out. His tone of voice was even and steady, and Kassandra knew how much of a struggle that was for him. “It is not the plague. He turns ten at high-tide.”

  “Great the kid’s writhing in agony on his birthday...just what every kid wants as a gift,” said Kassandra, her voice laced with sarcasm.

  “Tie him to the bed, then, and be done with it,” said Saad, as he turned his head and walked away with Fiona on his arm.

  “Tie him to the bed?” Kassandra shouted after him. “You sick, twisted…I seriously hope you’re kidding, right?”

  Saad ignored her ran
t and shut the door behind him not bothering to respond. Turning her head, she eyed Darius. “He’s sick....really sick,” she repeated, not understanding why Darius’ eyes looked so pained.

  “It would be better for him.” He said the words so low that at first she didn’t believe what she’d heard.

  She took two steps towards him. “Darius the kid needs a doctor. Not tonight...not tomorrow...now!”

  He ran his hands through his hair like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

  “Darius your nephew needs help. We really need a doctor.”

  “You do not understand. It is our way. Our tradition. I cannot interfere. He must go through this on his own.” The words were a heartfelt admission. It was the most she had heard him say about who he was and about his family. Her heart clenched with fear when he turned to give her a penetrating look.

  That’s it, thought Kassandra, throwing up her hands in the air. Her body bounced with angry energy and she wanted to hit someone – okay him. That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. But, what did I expect from a Greek warrior who pops out of a book? How about the truth? She wanted to scream that thought at him.

  Instead she tried to speak in a rational voice. “Okay, your tradition really sucks. You know what I’ve learned over the years from reading countless historical books is that tradition is a lame excuse for not taking a chance, not changing, not growing. Your tradition can be what you or anyone else wants it to be...but don’t let it be this. Don’t let it give you an excuse to do nothing. That’s your nephew. He needs you. If you’re not man enough to get him help, I will.”

  Kassandra turned and marched to the door. Fear pounded straight to her heart because she knew, without a doubt, he wouldn’t let what she had said go.

  As if on cue he grabbed her, bringing her body roughly to his. She could feel his heart beat as her head made contact with his chest.

  “No you are not.” The words were a mere whisper, as he proceeded to pick her up like she weighed a feather when the truth was far from that. As he carried her over his shoulder, she struggled and squirmed but his hold was tight. She was hot and embarrassed beyond words by what he’d done to her. The hot part was because his large hand was now firmly over her bottom, holding her in place, and it felt sinful and wicked. His fingers were splayed wide and she could swear the feel of them was being seared into her flesh. He carried her across the hall and dumped her on a small bed.

  Thinking she was finally free of him, she was startled as the full force of his weight came crushing down on her. She couldn’t breathe. Slowly inch by inch his hard muscle-toned body came off hers. Then, as if it was an afterthought, he grabbed her face to frame it in his large hands and kissed her. Demanding a response. Demanding she comply. And damn if she didn’t melt against him.

  She fought it, or attempted to, but he pushed past her defenses like her thoughts meant nothing. His thumb pulled her chin down, forcing her mouth to open wider, allowing his tongue full range as he marked his territory. His tongue plunged again and again deep inside her, letting her know intimately this foreplay mimicked what he really wanted to do to her. Then he teasingly withdrew only to lightly skim his tongue across the tops of her teeth. She shivered as desire gained headway. She felt hot and wet. Wanting him. All of him. He ground his hips against her body and the full force of his erection pressed into her, causing her to pant.

  He was doing this to her to teach her a lesson, and she knew it. But her body betrayed her, and that made her angry. Part of her wondered what he would do if she bit him. She sensed it would turn things up full volume, and her body instantly responded. Her nipples peaked as if on cue, and she felt drenched with need for him. She continued to fight her own inner battle and had to force her hands from reaching up to grab his silky hair as it brushed across her face. Her lips felt bruised, battered and swollen…and worse, she ached for more.

  A whimper of protest escaped her lips when he pulled back. His face a breath from hers, the intensity in his eyes quickened her heart even more. Those eyes were glazed with such passion she knew that he, too, fought a battle.

  His hands moved from her face to cup her breasts. His fingers played with her nipples, and she thought she’d go crazy with desire. More than anything she wanted his mouth to suckle her swollen nipples. To nip and bite them. Only when she was with Darius did this wild side of her come out to play.

  She forced herself to look at him. Heated desire blazed from his emerald eyes. And the look of pure possession caused her breathe to hitch. She felt raw and vulnerable beneath him. A flicker of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. She wetted her lips in anticipation as his eyes leisurely moved over her body. His words hummed through her being, causing desire to run like a crashing wave through her entire system.

  “This,” he said, his finger pebbling her nipple into a tight point, “and this,” he said, his hand moving between the v of her jeans as his thumb pressed on her damp invitation, “are mine. I intend to claim them very soon, but for now, you will obey my wishes and not interfere. I will mark you like you’ve never been before. I plan to worship your body like there is no tomorrow. And I promise you will enjoy every long moment, and beg for more,” he said.

  To emphasize his point, his hand at the junction of her legs began to rub her as it moved up and down, causing her to squirm and reach for more. Pleasure streamed through her. His words were a hot, erotic promise. It did more too fuel her desire than she thought possible.

  “Darius, I...”

  His mouth clamped over hers once again, forcing thoughts to scatter. She felt her back arch all on its own when his mouth finally claimed her peaked nipple. Through her shirt he suckled hard. His tongue deftly flicked her nipple and then he gave it a small nip. All the while his hand continued to shamelessly rub her, causing her nub of pleasure to harden, and her panties to become slick with need.

  “Stay here. I will come back.”

  The order rocketed through her crazed desire-stricken brain, and she once again wanted to scream. Speechless, he walked away from her, but not before turning his head to give her one last penetrating, heated look. Then he locked the door.

  Damn you!

  Kassandra knew he’d used her aching need to force her compliance. Her body couldn’t do anything. Looking down she noticed the wet stain on her shirt from Darius’ mouth, and then his words came back to haunt her. Without a doubt she was in well over her head, because when he came back she knew she’d get what she desired, wanted and ached for, and that scared her even more than being, once again, locked in a room.

  Chapter Eight

  His body was taut with unleashed desire and his breathing sounded irregular to his own highly trained ears. It took every ounce of control not to stake his claim. Not to give into his sexual Titan nature and brand the woman his. The beast within him growled for gratification and more. It was the more that scared him.

  The whimper from his nephew turned his blood cold. This was his awakening year. The first decade of passing, the first molting of his skin, the first Titan memories he would accumulate, passed down from one generation to the next. By rights, his awakening time should take place deep within the safety of the healing waters, but that was impossible now. Darius pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. He’d never known a Titan to go through the transformation in human form and that worried him. He could still recall his own first awakening.

  He’d been terrified. Deep within the healing waters’ sea caves, his father had bound his body and arms together, saying it was for his own good. Wave after wave of searing pain had crashed through his body, but the worst part was the burning sensation. He’d actually thought at one point that his skin was on fire, only to writhe in agony when he began to transform. He’d watched horrified as his skin flaked off of him. Bound, he’d been unable to scratch. But even bound, he’d felt vulnerable like never before.

  Then Kassandra’s words came back to haunt him. Some family I’ve got. He realized h
e hadn’t been alone during that first painful time. His twin brother, Seth, bound in a similar fashion in a nearby cave had sought him out. Gifted telepathically they also shared a unique twin bond. He remembered the first wisps of his brother’s thoughts – they had been calming, reassuring him that all would be well, even though he had known his brother was going through the exact same painful process. Shaking his head he realized what he needed to do. To hell with tradition. Opening the bedroom door he finally gave into what his heart demanded.

  Kassandra had no idea how long she’d been in the room but she’d obviously slept through the night. How that could be, she couldn’t fathom. The click of the lock opening woke her. A servant casually walked in and set a breakfast tray down for her. Her first thought was thank god there was coffee; her second one went to the child. Downing two gulps, she ran her hands through her messed up hair, straightened her disheveled clothing and marched out of the room.

  At the adjacent bedroom, she hesitated. She heard nothing when she put her ear to the door. Drawing in a breath for courage she turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

  She blinked, thinking at first she must have made a mistake with the rooms. Then her eyes caught sight of Darius, his body slouched over the figure in the bed. The pink t-shirt with the words “Honk if You’re Horny” still blazed across his back.

  “He will be okay.”

  The husky, timbre of the voice caused her to stare. Gone was the child. In his place was a man whose chiseled chest and long thick black hair made him resemble Darius so much that a lump formed in her throat.

  “What the...who are you?” she said, backing toward the door.

  In one fluid motion, Darius awoke. He moved lithely away from where he had been, his body tense and ready for action. He looked at her and took a second look at the man now lying in the bed, only to shake his head.