Dark Heat

by Leigh Wyndfield

  You've felt her power, Garron. You know she has it.

  Still, to be positive, he'd have her heal him and keep her tight by his side until they escaped.

  * * * *

  Caelan held the bread Danner had given her, wondering how she would get it to her mouth since her hands were shaking like tree leaves in violent winds. Exhaustion crawled over her from first hauling rock, then actually wielding a make-shift pick under Garron's disapproving eye.

  He was angry with her about something, although at this point, she didn't care what. Let him be mad. She wasn't in the mood to worry about it. Her stomach tightened with hunger pains so sharp, she almost doubled over with them.

  Danner smacked a cup of water by her, his beady eyes squinting with suspicion.

  "Thank you,” she said, more to annoy him than anything else. She didn't like Danner, no matter how hard she tried. Of course it was hard to like someone who looked at her with suspicion and distrust.

  Garron slipped down the tunnel from wherever he'd been and crossed to where she'd dropped by the dirt pile. She'd made it this far, hauling out their last load of rock and couldn't go any further.

  "You're a Speaker?” Garron said, his voice coming out hard and tight.

  "Yes."

  He undid the laces at the top of his breeches.

  Caelan blinked in surprise, then she became truly angry, the infusion of emotion giving her a much needed boost of energy. “If you think I'm sleeping with you, you are mistaken,” she bit out, controlling herself from slinging her bread in his face. She was hungry. No matter how mad she was, she wouldn't lose her dinner.

  He laughed, a harsh sound that carried with it an insult, as if he didn't want her anyway. “I need your healing skills.” Then his breeches dropped, and he stepped close.

  She could see red streaks of a building infection starring from a long slash on his leg even in the darkness. How she'd missed it the night before, she didn't know. Well, she did know. She'd been distracted by him, not that he'd ever be lucky enough to touch her again after the way he'd treated her all day.

  The cut wasn't deep, the slash running along the outside of his thigh the length of her hand. But infection had set in, probably recently or he'd be dead already. She'd feel bad for him, if not for the fact she wanted to kill him herself.

  For the first time in her life, she was too angry to heal.

  Leaning back against the wall, she craned her neck to see his face. “Infection's eating your leg,” she informed him.

  "Heal it,” he ordered.

  "No.” She was tired of everyone treating her as if she were a servant. Useph and Sneed and the whole castle never asked, they ordered. Never thanked her. She was sick of it.

  "What?"

  "I don't follow your orders, Garron.” Using both hands, she took a bite of the most tasteless bread she'd ever eaten.

  "You're saying you can't heal?” he asked, danger swirling in the low words.

  "Of course I can. I'm just not going to heal you.” She sniffed to make her point, then defeated the bold words by fumbling the bread in her shaking hands.

  He dragged his pants to his hips and dropped to one knee before her. “Are you a Speaker?” He underscored the intensity of his voice by grabbing her chin. She would have been afraid if she wasn't so annoyed.

  Jerking her head to the side, she narrowed her eyes. “Yes, but I'm not healing you until you apologize for how you've treated me all day."

  "What?"

  She didn't dignify him with an answer, instead picking up the cup to take a sip of water. The bread had dried her mouth to the point of pain.

  Water sloshed over the rim, the action of raising her hand to her mouth too much for her arms.

  Garron took the cup from her hands, then pressed it to her lips. “Drink,” he said, his tone gruff, but the anger was gone.

  She did, ignoring the intimacy of the action. Goddess, she was thirsty. She hadn't known how much until she finally had access to water. In four long gulps, she finished it.

  "More?"

  She nodded, realizing the shakes were as much from dehydration as anything else.

  "Danner,” Garron said, not taking his eyes from hers.

  The cup was refilled instantly, and he pressed it to her lips, tipping it so she was forced to drink slowly. “Careful not to take too much too soon."

  She slowed down immediately. How had she missed her own deterioration? She'd been obsessing about the man before her, that's how. And about the fact she would never be able to go home again if she left the dungeon through the tunnel.

  As angry as she was with Brianna, she would miss her. They'd been inseparable since birth. And the villagers needed her. Although the new castle Speaker would heal them.

  With the water, her hands calmed enough to allow her to eat without incident. Garron sat next to her with his own meal and silently insisted on balancing her cup. Somewhere during their interaction, Danner had disappeared to wherever it was he went.

  Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the wall with a sigh, her earlier anger muted by the simple act of sharing a meal. “How did you hurt your leg?"

  "Rolf stabbed me in one of our many skirmishes."

  "It's infected."

  "Yes."

  She rolled her head to stare at him. “Drop your breeches, and let me heal it."

  He smiled, the action slow and sensual, as if he was turned on by her request. “Anything for you, love.” He climbed to his feet, his actions causing an answering twist of her stomach.

  She snorted to break his spell, but her attention fixed on the muscled stomach that appeared when he shrugged out of his shirt. “It's your leg that is hurt,” she said, but her voice had dropped an octave, her body shivering with a chill of desire and the need to touch him.

  He hadn't bothered to lace his pants earlier, so he only had to push them down, but his hands started higher on his hips, the sweep of his fingers as they traveled down his hips catching her attention like a fish on a hook.

  She couldn't have looked away if the castle had been burning above them.

  He bent at the waist, slowly shedding his boots and pants then lay on his bed.

  She feasted her eyes on him. Why not? He wanted her to look, had begged her to stare at him by disrobing in that manner.

  Rising to her feet, she dipped a bowl of water and picked up the cleanest rag from the pile beside the bucket. Then she crossed to him and knelt.

  Yes, she was still angry, but why should she stop herself from touching him? That would only be denying what she wanted, and she was done doing that.

  First she bathed his wound, cleaning it thoroughly. While the Goddess gave her the ability to heal, the Goddess also gave her a mind, and her mind was constantly looking for ways to improve the healing process. By cleaning wounds before healing, she'd increased her success rate. She'd also begun to use herbs and other recipes she'd picked up from the villagers. If someone didn't believe in the Goddess of All Things, she couldn't heal them with the Goddess's magic. So she'd found another way to help them, enjoying the learning process as she went.

  Now it occurred to her that she had the perfect opportunity to explore another method of healing.

  When the wound was cleaned, she brushed her fingers down his huge chest, across his abs, skirting his sex, and made her way to his thigh again.

  With hands now shaking with desire, she made up her mind to heal him in a way she'd only heard about in whispered conversations between the older healers. The thought lit her on fire inside. Legend said a Speaker could heal using her mouth on a man's body.

  And if it didn't work, she could always steal his power as he had stole hers the day before and use it to heal him in the normal fashion.

  Meeting his gaze, she debated asking or taking. His eyes burned with the same need that ate her alive inside.

  Take, she decided.

  Chapter Six

  He'd abused her all day for no reason. Now that he thought it through
, it made no sense that he'd be suspicious she'd been sent to trap him. Sneed was a mastermind at planning and dropping a woman down into the dungeons wouldn't guarantee that she'd end up with him. A small voice in the back of his head whispered that she had come straight to him, but he shook it off. It was more likely that she'd have been snatched before she'd reached him. Sneed was too calculating to leave that up to chance.

  Why can't she be who she seems to be?

  Because she's too good to be true.

  Soft hands drew his thoughts to the present.

  Caelan whisper-touched her way down his chest, stroking down every plane as if she enjoyed the feel of him. She explored every rib, pressed both hands onto his stomach with a reverence that held him spellbound.

  Pushing his thighs apart, she climbed between his legs. Then she dragged her hands down his hips, the action so sexy, his cock jumped in appreciation.

  Meeting his gaze, she licked her lips, the gesture erotic and unsure at the same time.

  Then she lowered her mouth to his thigh.

  Magic swirled in the air, and he knew immediately she was going to literally kiss him better. He'd never had anyone touch him this way during healing, never even known it was possible, but he felt her power like the brush of a hundred butterflies on his thigh.

  As she licked around the wound, healing magic tingled his skin, down the inside of his leg and up into his belly. He had to pull himself up onto his elbows to watch her, wanting to see what she did as well as feel it.

  She worked along the edges of the slash, slowly softening the angry red, before finally breathing magic on the wound.

  His back bowed with the intensity of feeling, the rake of desire running through his body making him cry out.

  He couldn't take it, couldn't have her push her magic into his body and not touch himself.

  Without conscious thought, he fisted his cock and began to pump in time with her mouth. Unlike the other times he'd been healed by a Speaker, there was no pain at all, just the most intense pleasure he'd ever felt.

  He was going to climax. He had to stop, but her beautiful, magic-filled mouth went on and on, picking up speed, forcing his hand to move faster to keep up.

  Then an intense orgasm roared over him and he barely registered the fact that now her lips were circled around the head of his cock.

  The relief only lasted seconds before he knew he had to have her again and again. Desire crawled through his insides on the heels of her magic, and he wondered if he'd ever stop needing her.

  * * * *

  She'd done it! She'd healed him with her mouth and for those precious moments, he'd been totally under her control.

  Her sex was heavy and full, but power burned through her. Usually after she healed, she felt depleted and exhaustion tugged at her. But now she felt amazing. Garron's magic and seed filled her up, driving her higher.

  Even in the darkness, Garron's gaze consumed her, the look on his face so starkly full of desire she couldn't stop the small, knowing smile that curved her lips.

  He brushed a finger down her cheek in a slow caress. “You look like you've just become queen of the world.” Sitting, he leaned close to whisper. “You should. That was amazing.” He nipped her neck, sending shivers of raw desire through her body. “I didn't even know that was possible.” He rubbed his hand down his healed thigh. “It's gone. Not even a mark left."

  "I'd heard whispers when I lived in the Temple of the Goddess,” she gasped, trying to think around the burn inside her.

  "You lived there? With those witches?"

  "Yes.” She blinked trying to grasp that someone didn't have the utmost respect for the Council Mothers and their citadel. “For two years."

  "My home town of Trayborne petitioned them for a healer we so desperately need, but each time we've been turned down.” Anger and frustration filled the words. “The sick must travel a half day's journey to find help, but the Temple ignores our pleas."

  Her heart went out for a town in need of a healer. “I'm sure they would have sent someone if they could.” Healers weren't that scarce, though. “Where is your town?” Perhaps no one wanted to live in there.

  "On the western border, but the Temple has promised to provide a Speaker to all who ask."

  He shook his head, then kissed her, as if he was done discussing the Temple. She was glad to leave the subject.

  He tugged lightly on one of her aching nipples, making her whimper.

  She caught his hand and pressed it to her breast, hoping to relieve the painful desire building there. “Please,” she heard herself beg. The fire inside her ignited into an inferno, making everything else drop away.

  He fought his hand from her grasp, then stripped her dress from her body.

  She scrambled to help him.

  Scooting back against the wall, he carried her with him. Then he held his cock in one hand while guiding her hips with the other.

  She crested him gladly, the action of fitting him inside granting her huge relief. Closing her eyes, she arched back, digging her fingers into his shoulders for balance as she worked herself down his length in slow pulses.

  When she reached his base, he stopped her. “Goddess, you're beautiful, Caelan. You look perfect when need for me fills your face, like a siren from tales of old.” He dragged her forward for a mouth-eating kiss. “Are you? Are you a siren?” Pinning her hips so she couldn't ride him and find relief, he whispered, “Are you a woman who has to have a man inside her, or am I the key that has set you free?"

  Part of her protested that he was blackmailing her for information she wasn't sure she wanted him to know, but another piece of her would do anything at that moment to find release from the fire inside her.

  She sat on his lap with his cock deep inside her, the position putting her at his eye level. Grasping his head with both hands, she clenched him with the inside of her body, enjoying the tightening around his eyes that showed he was fighting the pleasure. “I never knew sex could feel like this, never knew it could be so amazing.” To tempt him more out of his mood, she ran her tongue along his lips, pulling away when he tried to kiss her.

  His hands loosened, and she rolled her hips to fit herself tighter against him.

  Everything receded, leaving only their bodies and her intense desire.

  She was more exposed than she'd ever been in her life. She should be running into the shadows.

  Instead, Caelan let her body go, riding him at her own pace, letting her face show just how much she wanted him.

  It felt better to ride him deep, so she shortened the movement into a tight series of thrusts.

  Far away she heard him moan, but this wasn't about him any longer. It was about her bringing him, bringing them both.

  She increased the pace, the ball of sensation tightening inside her, reaching a screaming pitch. Placing her hands on either side of his head for leverage, she pushed down as hard as she could.

  Then relief burst over her, making her cry out in pleasure and agony. Magic swirled and mixed, his and hers, two sides of a coin fusing together to make something powerful and addictive all at the same time.

  * * * *

  Garron woke wrapped around Caelan, their bodies tucked together, his leg nestled in between hers, his arm slipped below hers to rest on her stomach. He felt completely sated, the hum of desire still riding under the surface, but muted and content, like the purr of a kitten.

  Staring up at the cracks in the ceiling that let in the red of the rising sun, he stroked a lazy hand along the beautiful skin of Caelan's back, enjoying the feel of her under his fingers. Satisfaction streaked through him when she arched, the action saying clearly that she took pleasure in him as much as he did her.

  Lying there, enjoying the moment like none other in his life, he realized he'd made a mistake. Before he'd ended up in The Abyss, he'd created a life that allowed him the freedom to do as he pleased without worrying about the limitations of his power. He couldn't lie, or he'd lose his ability to Battl
e Shout, so instead he'd kept all relationships on the surface, building a wall no one dared to climb, even the women he'd bedded.

  But somehow, with Caelan, he'd forgotten about the wall, hadn't in fact even remembered it in the heat of their sexual explosion.

  Before he'd never experienced this feeling of complete contentment—and that's what it was—and so he hadn't missed it, hadn't realized it could even be a possibility for him.

  Now that he'd had it, now that he knew just how amazing he could feel with this woman, how could he give it up?

  Maybe this feeling of contentment would fade over time. In fact, he was sure it would. Nothing this good could last. But he wasn't ready to give her up when they were free.

  "I can't believe we're escaping tonight,” she whispered, staring at the rising sun.

  "Why are you here in the dungeons?” he asked, wanting to know the full story behind her odd appearance.

  She lay so still for a moment, he thought she might not answer. “I knew something that could lead to a man's death. It was either tell it or end up here."

  He picked up one of her curls and wrapped it around his finger, resisting the urge to push. If he did that, he'd owe her a truth about himself in return, a truth of her choosing. And unlike other men, he couldn't lie.

  "How did you end up here, Garron?” she asked, turning onto her side and bringing the covers carefully to her chin. He didn't like the barrier between them.

  He should have anticipated the question. It was, after all, only fair. “You and I both cannot lie, Caelan. If you want my answer, you'll have to give me more of your story."

  She sighed, the sound full of frustration. “I don't mean to be evasive, I'm just so used to giving vague answers, it's hard not to do so now."

  "Anyone who cannot lie has to come up with other ways to keep their true feelings to themselves.” He cupped her chin because he had to touch her. “It's hard to let people close to us when we can't hide behind falsehoods to smooth our way in life.” He knew she would understand.

  "During my last few months at the Temple, my ability to communicate with the Goddess went silent, and all the women who had been my friends distanced themselves from me. I realized they'd never been my true friends. We'd never discussed anything significant, never shared our secrets.” She unburied her hand from the blanket to catch his. “You're the first person I've ever spoken to about my inability to lie, one of the few people who knows how difficult it is not to be able to speak falsely."