***
Sylvie tossed her head back and forth, overcome as Arak caressed her. Anger melted. Muscles clamped on his fingers, her nerve endings buzzing with sensation.
Arak eased back, eyes on her face. “I’m so turned on right now. I don’t want to stop touching you.”
He reiterated the point with a slick pump from the two fingers deep in her core. “Open for me.”
Secure in his embrace, Sylvie parted her legs wider and allowed him to take her weight. Anything to continue the rich feelings stirring in her middle. Arak leaned his head on her shoulder, nuzzling against her neck. The affectionate gesture at odds with the passion he ignited had Sylvie admitting what she’d known from the moment he’d surprised her by sitting at the table.
She was falling for him. And maybe just maybe he was falling for her too. It was there in the way he touched her, the way he looked out for her and his constant habit of sniffing her. Sylvie’s lips curved. It was there in the way he liked to crowd her when they were in a room together. Like now when the closet offered enough space for two comfortably but he turned it into an opportunity to get close to her. The Marenians didn’t get to take this opportunity from her. She wouldn’t let them.
“Why the smile?” he asked.
Sylvie tipped her head back to face him fully “You crowd me.”
His brow crinkled. “This makes you smile?”
“It makes me happy to know you really care about me.”
Blue inked into navy as his gaze narrowed. “It’s more than care, Sylvie.”
His fingers slid from her, slick with her passion. He prevented her reply by spinning her around in his arms and taking her mouth in a demanding kiss. Hands caressed her back as his thighs pressed insistently between her legs. Sylvie bumped the small ledge behind her, dragging her fingers through his hair.
Head back, Arak’s lips parted and he purred. “Do that again.”
Hands buried in the thick strands, Sylvie raked his scalp with her nails, receiving the same response. Deep, rumbling vibrations curled up from his chest and throat then poured out.
He went still all over. Sylvie blinked and focused on him but Arak exploded into motion and tugged frantically at the neckline of her top, baring her breasts. Seconds later, his mouth rasped over the sensitive buds. Wet, heat engulfed her nipple as he sucked.
“Arak,” she cried out. Pressure built, pushing her toward climax.
He switched to the other side, giving it the same rough laving. Sylvie gasped as she rolled her hips against him. When he pulled back, his fingers replaced his mouth and lightly plucked at her sensitized nipples. Under his attention the buds hardened and her thighs trembled.
“You’re so close,” he crooned. His hands returned lower and eased along her moist folds. “I want to touch you. Stroke you and feel you come all over my hands.”
***
Fire. She set fire to every nerve with a simple touch. Sylvie belonged to him. He’d leave his mark so no other would dare encroach. She had no idea. What he did had nothing to do with crowding. He did it because he liked the thought of his scent covering her.
“Arak,” she whimpered.
Arak stop or Arak please. He had no time to figure it out because mixed with Sylvie’s aroma came another odor. One which drowned out the delicious honey bathing his fingers. Acrid and barely there, the insidious smell broke the spell Sylvie wove. Arak raised his head. His cat protested but he smoothed his hands over Sylvie’s dress, adjusting the material until it fell about her legs once more with a swirl.
“Arak?” This time her tone clearly questioned. The hands sifting through the strands of his hair paused before releasing him.
After finally having her touch him freely, Arak wanted to snarl at the loss but his training as a Jutak kicked in and he set Sylvie away from him. “Something’s wrong.”
Face flushed and chest rising, Sylvie turned. “What is it?”
Beautiful. She was breathtaking. Of their own volition, his hands rose and cupped her face. He stared deep into her mesmerizing blue eyes. “You’re beautiful, Sylvie.”
She melted. Her eyes lowered, lips parted and the feel of her in his arms tempted. Then the scent from earlier invaded. Unease rippled across his shoulders. Arak chuffed and dropped his hands to link one with Sylvie’s. He hadn’t made it this far as a Jutak by ignoring the senses his maman gifted him. “Something’s wrong.”
He pushed the door open with one palm not releasing his hold on Sylvie as his gaze searched the hall. Arak headed toward the main part of the restaurant, eyes never still.
“Arak?” The voice carried to him from down the narrow corridor.
Arak turned behind him. Everything from that point on occurred in slow motion. Mik, the waiter, made eye contact. He stood at the entrance to the back kitchens.
Waved.
Smiled.
Then the explosion hit.
The force knocked Arak back but his grip on Sylvie never wavered as his arms wrapped around her. They landed in the dining area of the restaurant on a nearby table, sending it crashing to the floor. Panic ensued. The blast had taken out the back half of the place plus the kitchen. If they’d stayed in the coat closet…he broke off the thought. The world sped back up. Diners rushed around them, heading for the only available exit. Screams filled the air.
Arak jumped to his feet, tugging Sylvie’s wrist and helping her up. Her dazed eyes blinked. He wanted to comfort her but they didn’t have time. “Move, Sylvie!”
She flinched and stumbled in her shoes but followed. His thumb caressed the thumping pulse at her wrist in apology for snarling as he hurried them through the streaming crowd. Overhead alarms started to ring, the emergency system warning everyone to evacuate.
“Please exit in a calm manner, there is danger. Please exit in a calm manner, there is danger,” the automatic voice droned.
“What’s going on, Arak?”
Fear coated the anxious question and Arak ruthlessly pushed his cat far back in order to maintain his form on two legs. His mate was in danger. “Not sure, love. Keep moving.”
Smoke filled the air. He joined the ebb and flow of those fleeing for the exit on the left of the main portion of the restaurant. Arak’s breathing held steady but his heart raced. A quick scan gauged the distance. Only a few more feet and they’d be clear. Sylvie would be safe. Glass crunched beneath his boots. If anything happened to Sylvie he’d lose his mind.
On the heels of the thought another explosion rocked Santagos. The loud crack thundered through the room. Fluid dripped from Arak’s ear as he fought back a howl of pain. Around them several people fell. Others trampled the fallen in their bid to escape. Arak picked up his pace. A sharp cry from behind had Sylvie hesitating, pulling away. He reached for her without thought, the need to protect driving him. She looked up, eyes wide and the scent of her fear nearly drowned him. Arak curved his arm around her shoulder, guiding her forward again.
“I need you safe, Sylvie,” he murmured, heart pounding against his chest. “I’ll help after you’re clear.”
He made the promise easily. Arak meant it on his word as a Jutak. But he’d do nothing until this woman who held a part of him was away from the devastation around them. The ceiling caved to the floor, blocking their way. Changing direction and ignoring the heat at their backs, Arak kicked aside chairs and shoved at tables with half eaten meals, his goal the plate glass window at the front. More screams and cries behind them.
People stampeded forward with the same thought. A huge metal pot flew at the window. Spider cracks appeared. Another determined customer used the legs of a table and hammered until it shattered, spraying glass in a tinkling wave to the ground outside. Everyone funneled forward.
One man paused, his leg half over the cleared window. He pointed beyond Arak. “It’s going to blow again. Get out!”
More people surged forward, the wave pushing them aside. They’d never get through at this rate. Sylvie turned to him, fear flashing through her
eyes. Arak had a moment to think. A moment to react to the danger. The floor rocked as he grabbed her at the waist and hefted her in his arms. Arak took several running steps, knowing he’d never make it. Not the both of them. A running leap landed him on top of an intact table. He had one chance. His gaze dropped to Sylvie. Color had leaked from her face, leaving her pale and trembling in his arms. She meant so much to him.
“Be safe, Sylvie,” Arak murmured.
“W-what?!” Sylvie read his expression and clawed at his shirt, fingers grasping as she sought a firm grip. “Don’t! No, Arak!”
He didn’t listen as his hands curved over her hips. Then Arak tossed her. Held her high in his arms and tossed her as hard as he could toward the opposite side of the loud bangs at their back. One second her body flew through the air, arms akimbo, a vision in lavender with blonde hair swirling and the next something slammed hard into Arak’s back with enough force to knock him from the table and across the floor. The lights went out.
Chapter 17
Sylvie winced and opened her eyes. What happened? Panic sent a fresh jolt of fear through her.
Arak.
“Arak!” Sylvie cried out.
The thought of being buried alive motivated her enough to push limply at the debris covering her. Silence echoed around her broken by the occasional groan of the demolished restaurant. Dizziness assailed her and Sylvie’s head flopped back on the ground. She winced as another flash of pain seared her temple. She focused on Arak to distract her mind. He had to be alive. The thought that the explosion could have taken him away from her permanently caused the lump in her throat to grow until swallowing became more difficult.
Voices rose. Hands pressed, touched. Pain ricocheted. She hurt everywhere, her body one big ache. Most of it seemed concentrated in her head. Sylvie groaned as fingers prodded her temple then her neck.
“I’ve got a pulse. This ones alive!”
Someone shifted her body, softness beneath her. She swallowed thickly. “Arak.”
“Rest easy,” the words whispered along her ear. “We’re going to help you.”
What about Arak? Was anyone helping him? Sylvie blinked and the sky of Enotia met her gaze. How’d she get outside? Her mind strained for her last thought. Arak had thrown her clear of the explosion and out the window. She remembered hitting the ground. Panic overrode reason and she tried to sit up. Fire lanced her side and Sylvie screamed.
“Hold her! Strap her down!”
Another voice, this one deeper. “We’re losing her!”
As shadows danced behind her eyelids, Sylvie drifted. She’d rest for a quick minute while these people helped the lady in danger then go look for Arak.
***
Arak shoved the plank of metal and wood off the lower half of his body. He rose to his feet with an unsteady wobble and lack of his usual grace. “Sylvie?”
The crackle of dying flames and running water broke the silence.
“Sylvie!” Arak roared and fought to control his shift. He was no good to Sylvie as a cat. He rushed toward the last known spot when he’d thrown her, tripping along the disjointed sections of upraised flooring.
“Sylvie!” He shouted again.
Eyes on the shattered, front glass window, Arak jumped over broken tables and chairs. Sirens wailed in the background but urgency drove him. His nostrils twitched and he choked on the burning fumes. Sylvie. Had to find Sylvie. Nose in the air, he tried to track her scent but only caught wisps of the honey fragrance he searched for.
Arak caught his breath at the damage around him, blood pumping through his veins. Sylvie. Where was Sylvie in this chaos?
“Are you hurt?” someone touched his arm.
Arak lashed out, claws extended.
“Whoa…” The med tech raised his hands and took a step back. “You’re bleeding.”
Arak wiped at the drops running down the side of his face. He needed Sylvie. Nothing mattered but finding her. “There’s a female. Blonde…”
The tech snorted, waving a hand around. “Most of the females we recovered are blond.”
Recovered. Inside his soul howled. “Where? I need to find someone.”
Two more med techs entered the wreckage, the giant white cross on their blue jackets identifying them. Arak glanced around, his blurred vision zooming in on the other blue coated men kneeling on the ground helping the injured. His physical aches paled in comparison to the feelings ravaging his heart. Agony burst from his chest. A few bodies were already encased in long, black bags piled on nearby hover stretchers two and three high.
Terror chilled to the bone as soul deep fear crashed into his mind. He stood amidst the rubble, stepping over what looked like a broken chair. Panting, Arak shoved passed the protesting tech trying to wipe at his face with gauze. He growled at those who dared come close, making his way outside.
Outside was madness. More black bags on the ground in an obscene display sprawled across what had once been a beautiful landscaped lawn welcoming those to Santagos. He counted at least four blue and white medical center hover vans, their back doors opened to reveal dozens of black bags.
Crying and sniffling reached him, the sounds distorted from the damage his ears sustained. People sat on the ground, head to knees. Others stood gazing around in confusion. Sylvie. He had to find Sylvie. Arak scented the air. His lungs seized at the delicate trace of honey he caught. Arak followed the scent, worry gnawing at him the closer he drew to one of the ominous vans parked half on the curb and half on the street. His heart thudded with each breath he dragged in.
Two techs worked over a hover stretcher by the opened rear doors. More honey wafted in his direction. The body on the stretcher remained unmoving. Slim arms hung limply in the air and blonde hair trailed over the edge. His cat raked at his insides, a mournful cry building within. Arak pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes as they burned. A vice crushed his chest and liquid pain poured through him.
Dropping his arms, Arak forced himself to walk the last few steps until he stopped beside the woman on the stretcher. Lavender fabric ripped down the center, red rivulets running over creamy skin he’d recently stroked and caressed. His breath hitched. His Sylvie. He’d failed to save his mate in time. His cat howled.
One of the techs glanced up and paled. His partner’s head jerked up. Arak couldn’t stop the mournful snarls and growls. His Sylvie lay bleeding on the stretcher. Arak’s hand shook as he tentatively touched her hair. Like silk despite the tangles. His dirty thumb caressed the gentle swell of her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, sir. We need to take her in. Emergency responders are waiting for the influx of patients.”
Arak’s head snapped up. “She’s alive?”
The man’s brows shot up. “Yes, sir. It’s bad but she has a chance.”
Arak choked, relief weakening his limbs. He pressed his face to Sylvie’s neck, breathing deeply of her scent. Honey and the rich, metallic stink of blood.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear.
“Arak!”
He turned. Torkel, Jaron, Davar, Gregir and Geile raced toward him.
“Your papan contacted us,” Torkel spoke as soon as he reached Arak’s side. “He’s at the medical center, minor bumps and bruises. He’s driving the staff crazy looking over each person they bring in. Searching for you.”
Guilt washed over him. Arak hadn’t once thought of his papan.
“We have to move, Unit Leader Alonson.” The techs guided Sylvie’s stretcher into the back of the van and panic hit Arak.
“I need to go with her.” He refused to be parted from her side.
The denial was on the tip of the man’s tongue but something on Arak’s face must have warned him. “Get in but stay back.”
Arak faced Torkel. “Dr. Maku—”
“I’ll send him.” Torkel gripped his shoulder. “We’ll meet you there after we help with crowd control.”
It was then Arak noticed his teammates wore their red riot uniforms. In case mayhem
broke out. Sirens pierced the night as the first wave of vans began to leave. Duty pulled as his gaze surveyed the crowd, the damaged restaurant and so many in need of assistance. His brain fogged over.
Torkel squeezed. “Take care of Sylvie. We’ll handle everything.”
Arak jumped in the van, his hand reaching for Sylvie’s. She never woke during the ride and he didn’t like the look the med techs kept exchanging over his head.
***
Torkel and Team One arrived along with Dr. Maku as promised, the doctor’s face pale but gaze determined. Just seeing them eased some of Arak’s anxiety.
“Where is she?” Maku asked, not wasting time on preliminaries.
Arak pointed toward a door across from where they stood. A giant window along side the wall gave them all a clear view of blue-coated men working on Sylvie and several others in the room.
Maku gripped Arak’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of her.”
Arak fought to drag air into his chest. He didn’t like the yellow lights over Sylvie’s bed. A few times they’d blinked red then back to yellow. The sheet draped Enotian male in the far right had already succumbed to his injuries despite the medical intervention.
When Arak could speak without choking, he said, “They haven’t told me anything. S-she’s important to me.”
Maku nodded and strode into the room.
“Have you seen your papan?” Torkel asked.
Arak nodded. His papan had tracked him down the moment he’d arrived. Fortunately, Garis had been outside inspecting a blown sensor in the rooftop sign above Santagos during the explosion. He’d come out mostly unscathed but for scratches from flying debris.
Torkel nudged the torn sleeve of Arak’s uniform. “Let’s sit down. You look like you need to be treated as well.”
“I’m fine.” His eardrum had burst but already his hearing was better. The other injuries were minor and his body continued to heal.
Arak's Love: A World Beyond Book 2 Page 15
