by Ophelia Bell
“What do you mean?” Lukas asked.
“That’s what she promised him when they met last week. She gives him her body, just like old times, and he returns her son to her. She’ll spend her time with him just as trussed up as you guys had her, except it’ll be a bit more bloody. Though I hear that’s what she used to go for, back when the pair of them were hot and heavy. Maybe being immortal like she is made it harder for her to get off on vanilla sex—I have no idea.”
“Fuck!” Lukas yelled, and Iszak let out an accompanying bellow of profanity that made Marcus’s ears ring even more. More windows crashed open, more glass shattered.
“Tell us where they both are, you son of a bitch, and you’ll be lucky if you survive us once we’re free.”
Marcus shook his head, knowing what an impossible choice he’d offered them.
“Knowing their locations isn’t enough. Belah’s somewhere in the city still. Not far from here, in fact. Evie’s at the Alexandria Institute’s Canadian headquarters, about two thousand miles away in the mountains along the border of British Columbia. She’s safe enough where she is, as long as Nikhil’s nowhere nearby. I can take you both to her in a second, if that’s what you want.”
“Let us the fuck out of these ropes and take us to them both.”
“That’s the thing, though—I can only take you to Evie now. I can’t take you to Belah. Where he’s got her, no one else can go—not until he’s done with her. He has her inside a temporal bubble. Without knowing when they are, I can’t get in. Sterlyn’s the only one who knows. Trust me, I know exactly how fucked this situation is. I’ve spent the last fifty years wishing like hell I could get Evie out of there. Put yourselves in my shoes, guys. There’s no way we can get to Belah right now, so you might as well come help me get Evie out. Help me save your sister. Please.”
The brothers shared a long look, and the tempest in the room gradually calmed as the pair seemed to come to some silent agreement.
“Untie us, Marcus,” Iszak said, his voice rough with emotion, but at least at a reasonable volume. “We’ll figure this shit out somehow.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The man Iszak had once loved and respected as much as a brother still existed somewhere behind those dark eyes. He wanted to keep hating Marcus for his part in their sister’s disappearance—hell, he would have kept on, if he hadn’t recognized in Marcus some of the same self-hatred he saw when he looked in the mirror every day.
Marcus’s brows drew together. “You’re not going to go after Evie, are you?”
“Fuck, man, I don’t know. But I’m sure as shit not doing anything with my dick flapping in the breeze like this.”
Marcus moved behind him, and a moment later, the ropes loosened. Iszak pulled free and went to throw on his jeans while Marcus untied Lukas. He turned just in time to see a now freed Lukas throw a swift punch that connected solidly with Marcus’s chin. The russet-haired man’s head flew back with a snap and he spun, stumbling into Iszak.
Iszak reached out and righted the other man before he lost balance. He held Marcus’s elbow for a second longer, his other hand clenching into a fist.
“Go ahead. You’re entitled,” Marcus said, tilting his chin up as though inviting Iszak to give in to that urge.
Iszak let out a harsh snort and released Marcus. “Not in the mood. I’d rather save up for the real enemy, if it isn’t you. You said you could take us where Evie is, right? Does that mean you can take us anywhere quick?”
“Anywhere I’ve been to once, yeah. But I told you, I can’t take you to Belah. I can go where she is, just not when. She won’t be there now.”
“Show us,” Lukas said.
“Wait,” Iszak said, holding out a hand. “You promise Evie’s not in danger right now? How is she?”
“She’s about as good as someone who’s been a prisoner for five decades can be. She’s in no danger, though—not while Nikhil’s distracted.”
Iszak tilted his head, focusing on the nuances of the words as the air carried the sounds to his ears. No lies, but there were hidden truths, hidden fears that Marcus would rather not speak, and a definite essence of shame permeating every syllable. Marcus probably had no idea how lucky that one emotion made him.
“Is he distracted often?” Iszak asked.
“Not to this degree—not since I’ve known him.”
Iszak had to restrain himself from asking more questions about what Belah really meant to the Ultiori leader. They’d once been lovers—had even conceived a child together, though Nikhil wasn’t aware of the daughter’s existence. So why had he persisted in chasing Belah for so long?
That didn’t matter now. All that mattered was finding out how to get his and his brother’s mate back.
“Take us where he’s keeping her. We’ll figure out the rest once we know the lay of the land.”
Marcus nodded and grasped Iszak’s hand, along with Lukas’s.
“Brace yourselves,” he said. “This is never a fun experience, even for me.”
Darkness rushed in so fast, Iszak thought he’d have whiplash from the abrupt shift. He felt displaced, as though caught in a cyclone and spun in its vortex. He flailed with his free hand, and would have used both of them, if Marcus didn’t have a grip so tight on his other one.
His world spun through a void, and he was reminded of the utter terror he’d felt the first time his plane had been shot down over in Vietnam. He’d been too cocky, too self-assured about his piloting abilities. He was born to fly, after all. But he wasn’t born to be strapped into a giant pile of useless metal plummeting straight to the earth.
Iszak hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud. It took a moment for him to get his bearings. Marcus’s vise-like grip on his hand released, and so did Iszak’s control over his supper. He rolled to the side and heaved, his eyes watering.
“Fuck,” he muttered, wiping his lips. He blinked and looked around.
“What is this place?” Lukas asked, standing shakily and angling away from his own puddle of sick.
Marcus seemed none the worse for wear, aside from looking a little green around the gills. “It’s Sayid’s penthouse—where he stays when he’s in the city.”
“Looks like a fucking mausoleum,” Iszak said, moving from the soapstone foyer into the high-ceilinged room. The place looked like it belonged in some ancient temple in Egypt. Every surface seemed to be carved from giant slabs of pale, sand-colored stone. Massive columns topped by carved, golden palm leaves bordered the entire room, extending up two stories to an elaborately painted ceiling that belonged in another era. A huge, gilded throne with clawed feet sat at one end of the room opposite a huge door made of shining wood, into which was carved a series of robed figures with animal heads atop their shoulders.
Iszak followed his brother and Marcus through the door into a smaller room that was still massive in scale. A large bed rested on a dais against one wall with a wooden trunk at its foot, but the most prominent feature in the room was a masterfully carved St. Andrews cross with luxurious, blue silk padding attached to the surface. At each point in the large X-shaped contraption were sheepskin-padded shackles. Glancing down, Iszak saw beneath the cross was a channel cut deep into the polished marble of the floor that led to a shallow basin about two feet in diameter. Upon closer inspection, he discovered the basin was lined with a hammered silver bowl with handles attached to two sides, jutting up from the edge. A spout aligned with the channel in the floor to allow for pouring out of whatever liquid the basin was intended to collect.
“What the fuck?” Lukas said. “Did he build this for her?”
Iszak was too focused on the channel in the floor to answer his brother. His belly turned to ice at the thought of what the basin was meant to hold.
“Marcus, remember where our Nanyo lives?” Iszak asked, his voice sounding as though it were coming from somewhere out
side his body. His ears buzzed with the barely contained rage at the man who had taken his mate.
Marcus’s head snapped around so hard Iszak could swear he heard the man’s neck crack.
“Yeah … why?” Marcus asked cautiously.
“Because that’s where you’re taking us now.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The blackness was slow to recede from Belah’s mind. She didn’t remember it being so vast and empty before. She’d always relished the oblivion she reached in the darkness of her deep unconscious. Now she was only acutely aware of the stark absence of the pair of men she had just marked, whose marks had glowed so brightly their afterimages were still burned into her mind. But she’d made a promise, and the recipient of that promise had come to collect.
Warm arms and soft touches coaxed her out of the void. A deep, familiar voice was speaking gently, lovingly, but with words half-choked by emotion. As her senses returned, she became more aware of the scents and sensations surrounding her, and they took her back to a night more than three thousand years ago. The night she’d accepted Nikhil’s proposal.
Belah forced herself to gather her thoughts before moving and betraying her consciousness to the man who held her. He had her cradled on his lap, the hot water of a bath lapping around her shoulders, her cheek resting against his chest. His touch was gentle, comforting, and she could almost pretend none of the last three millennia had happened. The way he was speaking to her now was so different, evoking memories—feelings—of another time and place. Another man, so different from the monster she knew now.
“You were mine that day. More than you had ever been. You gave me my life, Belah, and more—so much more. What you asked was the least I could give in return, even though I never understood why you would ask it. Did you know what it would do to you when I spilled your blood? That’s the question I have asked myself all this time … whether you planned to leave me for him—for the father of the child you lost. Whether you somehow found me wanting at the end and wished to escape because I couldn’t give you the child you longed for.”
Belah clenched her eyes tighter to hold back the tears inspired by Nikhil’s words. The arrogant brutality of the man she’d seen in the shadows the week before was entirely stripped away. When they’d been lovers, Nikhil had rarely let down his guard emotionally, but on the rare occasions he had, he’d been as raw and vulnerable as a child. That Nikhil was the one who held her now.
“I was so angry that you would leave me that way without telling me why. I would have been your mate, regardless of the damage it might have done to my will. The most I ever wished for was for us to share our love so we could have that child. A child of my blood and yours, bound together. I dreamed of how perfect such a child would be. But you took that away from me, and I could never forgive you for that. But now … by all the gods, Belah, I just want you, and to understand why you left.”
Belah slowly lifted her hand and placed it on his chest. He stilled and looked down at her, dark eyes filled with emotion so deep she believed he’d held these feelings in check for as long as she had. How had he not looked at her this way when they met before? That night he’d been devoid of any feeling, his aura an opaque shell and nothing like the volatile shimmer of emotion that surrounded him now.
She was at least relieved that all he seemed to want was to talk, and after all this time, she couldn’t deny him answers.
“I didn’t leave you by choice, Nikhil, but the truth is that we should never have wed.”
His arms tightened around her as he studied her face. His eyes were wide and brimming with all that unchecked emotion. He swallowed. “Then why did you leave? I have tortured and killed your kind for eternity to try to find answers when they wouldn’t offer them willingly, but none were forthcoming. Your absence drove me mad. All that kept me even remotely sane were the small tastes of your blood I allowed myself when the pressure of loss became too great. I believed you were dead for years, until your brothers came to me and offered an exchange for your blood. I didn’t want to give it up. In the end, I still kept some. But when I tried to see you, they said you wanted me dead and to stay away unless I was prepared to be burned alive.”
“They weren’t lying. I would have killed you then, but Ked convinced me to wait until we found where you were keeping Zorion. As for why I left … It was beyond my control. After the marriage ceremony, all we knew was that you would be given many powerful blessings from the other races. Blessings that were granted in the hope that we would be able to find a way for the immortals to finally mate with humans without destroying their minds. You were to be the test—it was the only reason I agreed to mark you.”
“But you never did.”
“That was my mistake, and I regret it to this day, but we cannot change the past. When you bled me, I had no idea you would do such a thorough job. We should have taken more precautions. When Ked sensed my life at the farthest edge it could reach, he believed the worst. He believed you had turned on me—that the blessings had corrupted you and you were after even greater power by taking my blood.” It wasn’t lost on Belah that her brother’s reaction had only served to self-perpetuate his fears.
“’Iilahatan, I would love you until the end of time. I would never turn on you. All the things I’ve done since losing you were … necessary.” He grimaced in distaste, which Belah found strangely out of character. The Nikhil she had known had always relished every second of battle and reveled in his pursuit of every conquest. He was so dedicated to his role as her general he’d been willing to die for her, and had never indicated he held one iota of remorse for the things he’d done.
“Then let me go, Nikhil. We should never have been together. You were Blessed. You were always meant to mate a dragon, but it should never have been me. My siblings and I were never meant to have humans for permanent mates. We understand now that none of the immortals were. Humans were only … vessels or sources for seed to us. I was greedy and foolish when I found you. You gave me the kind of escape no other partner ever could. But that time is over. I have changed.”
He lifted a hand from the bath and brushed it down the side of her cheek, his gaze tracing the wet trail his fingertips left behind. “No. I see in you the same woman who recognized the true benefits of the darkness in me, who cherished it and let me bring it out for your glory or your pleasure. You have not changed so much, have you? Not if the state I found you in tonight was any indication. You will have to try harder, little beast.”
His voice grew deep and suggestive, his hand falling to her breast and his fingers pinching her nipple hard. Belah hissed and pushed away, darting to the other side of the tub and clutching at her breasts.
“Nikhil, no. I promised you seven days, and I will give them to you, but the only way I submit the way you wish is for you to make me a promise in return.”
He let out a low growl and rose to his feet. His cock was still flaccid against his thigh, which in itself struck Belah as unusual. It used to be that any reaction she gave to the pain he inflicted on her would make him rock hard.
“I have already made you a promise to tell you where your son is. That is enough.”
“That was enough for me to give you these few days. But if you want me to surrender my body to you, I want you to promise me you will respect my wishes. I really have changed, Nikhil. I don’t crave the darkness the way I did with you. Forcing me to do anything will just result in me fighting back, and you know I have the power to hurt you.”
She gritted her teeth, hoping he would accept her terms, and silently asking forgiveness from Iszak and Lukas for what she feared she may have to do. But the fear subsided as she became aware of the tenderness of the nipple Nikhil had pinched, and the distinct lack of reaction other parts of her body had to the assault.
When she’d met him the week before, she’d responded as if they’d been apart no more than a day. His voice had made her k
neel and her core grow hot and needy. She’d been aroused only slightly by her date that night, but Ozzie’s touch had been nothing compared to the roughness of Nikhil’s hands on her body. Despite her disgust over what he had become, she had wanted him, and she’d hated herself for it. But now … she felt no tingle between her thighs, and her nipples were only erect from the cool air, not from arousal.
She glanced at his sleeping cock and then at his right nipple, which was distinctly reddened and irritated when it hadn’t been a moment ago. Then it hit her—every time he inflicted pain, he felt it himself. He felt no pain inflicted on him directly. Could it be the same for pleasure? Could he feel no pleasure, unless he was giving it?
Nikhil was still a powerful man. The sheer magnitude of his might was reflected in the tautness of his muscles. He stood, glistening with bathwater trickling off the familiar curves and planes of him. Belah knew every inch of his body and remembered how to please him.
“I don’t want you to fight, little beast. Do you remember how it used to be between us? You would kneel on my command. Your body was mine to do with as I wished, and it pleased you to let me have my way with you. I never asked for more than you were capable of giving. I’m not sure if it was possible for me to ask for more—you gave me everything.”
Belah slipped back through the water toward him. His gaze followed her warily until she stopped mere inches from contact and gazed up into his eyes. The same barely contained heat burned deep in those dark depths, but it wasn’t reflected in his body or his aura.
She raised her hand and cupped his cheek, brushed her thumb over his lower lip, then raised up on her toes and kissed him. He responded with hands at her waist, pulling her against him and deepening the kiss with bruising power. Between them, she drifted her hand down his side and over his belly. She dipped lower and cupped his cock, squeezed gently, and wrapped her hand around his girth.
She barely managed a single stroke before Nikhil wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away. His fingertips squeezed painfully hard and he brought their hands up before her eyes.
