“Never from me, Brand.” When he looked at her, startled but not seeming displeased, she smiled. “Well, it is a rather long, awkward name.”
He shook his head. “I suppose you have a point.” Kneeling beside her, he stroked her hair away from her face, exposing her swollen cheek and eye. “I can’t do anything about the internal damage, but this will at least help the cosmetic issue. It won’t get rid of everything, but should get rid of the worst and maybe make it look several days old.”
Miranda nodded, her one good eye going wide. Her breath quickened and her hands balled into little fists at her sides. With what was probably a smile, but was more a baring of teeth, Brandwulfr dipped his head, first skimming his lips over her eye. Then he lightly trailed the flat of his tongue over her eyelid, as well as under her eye and over her cheekbone. Everywhere he touched, her skin tingled then heated slightly. It was a soothing sensation and after several seconds, the ache on that side of her face lessened considerably.
Once he’d thoroughly bathed her eye and cheek, he feathered his way over her nose with his lips, moving over her other eye to the cut on the other cheek a few inches from her hairline. Again, he skimmed his lips over the cut before using his tongue to lap at the laceration, running his tongue and lips over it several times before moving again, this time to her mouth.
She knew her bottom lip had been split at some point. The evidence was not only readily visible in the mirror, but her lip felt two sizes bigger than it was supposed to. When he skimmed his lips over it, Miranda lost her breath. When his tongue followed, there was no biting back the whimper of need. Still, he did nothing else but lave that little cut. But he did it over and over, nearly driving her mad with desires so strong she had no idea what to do with them.
He didn’t stop at her face. Those brawny arms of his seemed to cage her in, one hand on either side of her but not touching. The muscles of his shoulders bunched as he moved down her body. His lips skimmed her neck in feather-light touches, seeming to touch every inch of her skin, moving in a steadily southward direction. In the small mirror, she’d noticed the purplish-red bruise across her right breast and wondered if he intended to lick that mark as completely as he had her face. Surely not…
Brandwulfr snagged the strip of linen that served as a bra and freed her breast to his mouth. Trying her best to ignore the feelings blossoming inside her, Miranda took a deep breath and gazed at the ceiling. Not watching seemed to enhance the sensations rather than detract from them. Watching didn’t help, either. His tongue traveled over each bruise repeatedly, making her skin tingle, but the pain lessened.
The bruise at her side where Haidar had kicked her repeatedly took the longest. It was by far the biggest and hurt the worst. At the time Miranda had been certain he’d broken her ribs. When Brandwulfr ran his tongue over the damage, she was certain of it. Even that small pressure, as careful as he was, hurt like the devil. There was no stifling her moan of pain, but he didn’t stop, merely finding her wrists with his hands and holding her steady. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before that pain, too, eased considerably. It still hurt when she took in a deep breath, but with the superficial bruising gone, she found the pain of the broken bones easier to manage.
She thought he’d finish then, but he moved back up her torso to her breast. Again, he laved around the bruise, but when he did, Miranda couldn’t help but arch her back slightly, offering him something she hadn’t meant to.
With a grunt, Brandwulfr licked over her aching nipple before closing his lips around the taut peak and sucking gently, flicking his tongue over the tip. Miranda just stifled a scream and would have clutched his head to her, but he grasped her wrists, pinning them to her sides.
“Shhh,” he warned. “If you want me to stop, tell me.” He looked up at her, those glowing blue eyes of his seeming to look straight through to her soul. There was no way in the world she was going to tell him to stop. The sensations were too good, and she wanted more. Craved it. Was this part of his healing, or was he using that as an excuse to play with her body? Did she even care?
When she said nothing, he continued, his tongue dancing over her skin, up her neck, and back to her face. Licking her jaw and chin, Brandwulfr covered every single bruise, every place of broken skin until he was at her lips again. This time when he licked, he thrust his tongue between them, seeking her tongue.
There was nothing Miranda could do but helplessly cede to his wishes. Her body craved his touch even as her mind told her that way lay heartache. Yes, he was a crude ruffian who cared nothing for her, but they way he kissed her… Even from the very first, she’d craved more of those rough, punishing kisses. Also, there were times he seemed intent on making sure she enjoyed what he did to her. Like now, with him being tender, gentle as no man ever had with her, she was desperate to have more of that man. Even as rough and uncouth as this callous male was, he made her feel more than any lover she’d ever taken.
“You don’t have much time,” a woman’s voice whispered from the back of the cell. Miranda stiffened, opening her eyes to stare into his. Even as his lips still moved over her mouth, those blazing blue eyes snared her, not letting her pull away even with another in the room.
Aya, the slave who lived in this cell, urged them on. “The guards will be here any minute to demand I remove the cloth. You must get back to Zev.”
Brandwulfr took his time ending the kiss, never looking away from her. Then he stood, reaching for Miranda’s clothes. With crisp movements, he tossed them to her. “Your price, Aya. I need it now.”
“When you escape this place, you must get me and Zev out, too.”
Without even hesitating, Brandwulfr answered, “I can’t promise that.”
“You will find a way, Guardian,” Aya rebutted sternly. “You must.”
“And why must I?” He crossed his brawny arms over that massive chest. The expression on his face dared the woman to order him again. Miranda thought she wouldn’t push her luck if she were Aya. But this woman only raised her chin, looking as proud as any queen before her subjects.
“Because I’m with child. I will not have my baby born here only to have him snatched from my arms and sold.”
Miranda gasped, eyes going wide. “Oh, no.” Aya didn't shift her gaze at all. She didn’t beg, didn’t plead for the life of her unborn child, merely held Brandwulfr’s gaze a moment longer before meeting Miranda’s.
“You will get me out of here, girl. Somehow, you will do this.” Even with her head held high, her chin trembled with emotion. “You must.”
Knowing she couldn’t promise anything, Miranda still found herself nodding. Brandwulfr swore and slammed his palm against the stone of the cell. “You’re going to get us all killed, Aya,” he snarled. “I sympathize. Really I do. But I will return for everyone. If she has to get more than one person out, the risk to all of us increases.”
“Those are my terms. You owe me, Guardian.”
“She’s right,” Miranda said quietly. “I can’t leave her knowing she’s pregnant. Father would never let her carry the babe. She makes him too much money in the arena.”
Brandwulfr whipped around, grabbing Miranda’s arms and shaking her slightly. “I will come back for everyone. If you try to get too many people out, whatever you plan will fail! It is my duty to protect my people, and I take that duty very seriously.”
“I’m Jaguar. Not wolf,” Aya interrupted. “You have no loyalties to my kind.”
“I am responsible for all shifters, cat!” Brandwulfr bared his teeth, growling deep in his chest. “I will get you out, but I can’t risk all of us getting caught!”
There was a long silence while Brandwulfr and Aya stared each other down. Miranda could practically hear them growling at each other. Then Aya spoke. “I’m dead either way. So is my cub. In other words, I have nothing to lose. You either take us with you, or maybe I let slip your plans—” she glanced at Miranda, inclining her head, “—and who’s helping you.”
“Watch you
rself, little cat,” Brandwulfr said between clenched teeth.
“It’s okay,” Miranda interrupted, stepping between them. “I’ll figure out a way to get Aya out.”
“Zev too,” Aya insisted. “I won’t leave without Zev.”
“I’ll do my best,” Miranda answered.
“Then the two of you need to get back to Zev’s cell and see to his injuries. You can call the guards from there.”
With a snarl, Brandwulfr grabbed Miranda’s arm, along with the supply bag he’d brought with him, and yanked her after him into the tunnels. Miranda knew better than to resist. The wolf was in a snit. Which kind of pissed her off.
“Why would you not want to get Aya out? If she’s truly carrying a baby, she needs to be protected. She needs out of this life, and my father will do everything in his power to keep her fighting. He makes too much money off her, and she’s obedient. If he lets her carry the child to term, she’ll have to fight up until her last few months before the child’s birth. Do you honestly think either of them could survive that?”
Without warning, Brandwulfr pushed her against the wall, caging her body in. The tunnel was completely dark. Only a pinpoint of light at the entrance to Zev’s cell broke the darkness. Until Brandwulfr’s eyes started to glow with an eerie blue light the same color as his irises.
“And what do you think would happen to you if your father found out you helped his prized gladiator escape? Me? They won’t care so much about. He’ll try to have his guards kill me, but he will fail. They will think I overpowered you and that you didn’t have a choice. If you involve Aya, they may begin to wonder how you weren’t killed.”
“My father would never suspect me. If he did…” She shrugged, unsure if he could see her or not. “So what? It’s the right thing to do.”
“Gods! You’re so…stubborn!”
But he pressed himself against her and Miranda could feel his erection digging into her belly. He might act like he was pissed, but he was also turned on. By her stubbornness? Her refusal to back down?
“I don’t believe you’re really upset,” she managed, though her mouth had gone dry with nerves. She was definitely in too deep already with this man.
“Damn straight, I’m upset,” he said, rolling his hips, grinding his cock harder against her. “I’m upset I can’t make you see fucking reason. I’m upset because I’m not inside you right now.” He lowered his mouth to her ear. “I might not be able to fix the former, but I sure as hell intend to remedy the latter.”
Miranda’s gut clenched, as did her cunt. She shivered, though not with cold. Need rode her hard. After the kisses they’d shared earlier, she was in desperate need of something more. Even in this setting, the most inappropriate she’d ever known, she needed this man like she needed to breathe. Sex had never been like this. Ever. This all-consuming need for release, to share that release with this one man, was completely foreign to her.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the time or place, and Brandwulfr was an experienced enough warrior to know that. Instead of the kiss she’d anticipated, he merely pushed away from her, taking her hand to lead her through the tunnel to Zev’s cell. Once inside, the two men faced off, neither backing down an inch.
Seeing several other men there, Miranda glanced around. Some were pretty badly injured, but none near death. From what she’d seen of their natural healing abilities, most would be fine come daylight. But she needed a distraction. The two males bristling before her grated on her already frazzled nerves. Instead of trying to push them apart, she simply stepped around them and moved to the first man. With her supply bag in hand, she went from man to man, tending their injuries. Most looked grateful for her help, but Miranda couldn’t help but remember the gratitude she’d seen on Haidar’s face, as well.
Chapter Six
“You came to an agreement with Aya, then?” Zev questioned Brandwulfr when Miranda left them.
“I suppose you could call it that. She played the one card she knew Miranda would be unable to refuse.” He took a step closer to Zev. “She’d better have a fucking litter of cubs, or I may take out my anger on you both.”
Zev merely shrugged. “Letting you win in the arena might have been the only way to get us both out of there alive, but I hope you’re not under any illusion that you actually beat me.”
“If I’d been out for blood, as usual, you wouldn’t have survived past the first few seconds of that match. The only reason you did was because I refuse to let a little beast like Rudolph force me into killing my own kind.”
“And if I’d thought for a moment Rudolph would make good on his promise to free me and Aya, you’d never have seen the first blow coming.”
Both men stood eye to eye. Zev was slightly taller than Brandwulfr, but he was young, inexperienced, and not as well developed physically. It was obvious neither Alpha was going to back down. Normally, Brandwulfr would simply slap the pup down and go on about his business, but until Miranda was safely out of this place, petty squabbles of this nature were out of the question.
With one last look, Brandwulfr pushed past him to go to Miranda’s side. While she tended each man, they gave her respectful looks, giving their thanks. But the second she turned her back, their malicious intent was obvious.
Bending down to whisper in her ear, he couldn’t help but inhale deeply. Even with the dried blood grime on her, she still smelled like heaven. Surprisingly, Miranda didn’t pull away from him, instead leaning back, arching her neck so he had better access. Oh, yes. His little human was feeling the pull, too.
“You need to get out of here. The men are restless, and I can only fight so many at a time. They look at you with thanks until your back is turned, then they turn menacing. You’ve done enough for today. Go plan my escape.”
“I’ve already figured out a way to get you out of the catacombs. I’m just not sure how to get Aya out. I hadn’t planned on her and Zev.”
“You let me worry about them. Concentrate on getting me out.”
“Then what happens to me?” She sounded almost forlorn. The chit was intelligent. Obviously, she knew everyone was out to use her. Well, at least she’d finally figured it out. There would be no expectations of anything lasting when he finally claimed her. They’d both know it was only a temporary alliance. One that could benefit them both, if in different ways. He’d have his freedom; she’d be pleasured as no woman had been before.
“Brand?” The shortening of his name, as she had done before, startled him. No one but his mother had ever done that. Not his king, who also happened to be his best friend. Not his father. Only his mother, and not this little human. He opened his mouth to correct her, but couldn’t. It felt right. Like she was supposed to.
“What is it, sweet?”
“Whatever happens, I’m glad to have known you.”
Fuck! How could one woman be so…beguiling? Those startlingly blue eyes that seemed to take up half her face were poison! A man could get lost in them and never find his way out. He had to keep focused on the task at hand. Get out of this hell and free his people. That was his mission. Had been his mission for nearly five years. Now, he found himself wondering what a life with her would be like. Sure, he’d planned on taking her with him, but for what purpose? His first instinct had been to punish her. He’d bring her back to Denwulf and watch with glee as his people heaped misery on her. Now he wasn’t so sure she actually deserved his hatred or the hatred of his people.
Fuck!
“How does my face look?” she questioned, pushing back the hood of the cape she’d retrieved from Zev. “If I’m careful, will I escape notice?”
Brandwulfr shamelessly took the opportunity to touch her, using his fingers to probe the few lingering bruises. For one with such fair skin, she’d healed nicely. Letting his fingers trail over her skin, he marveled at how soft it was. He recalled the rest of her being just as soft and wanted to explore just how sensitive all that creamy skin was. Given her reactions to him before, he had the feeling t
hey’d both walk away more than satisfied.
“Brand?” Her face flushed as she questioned him, obviously unsure of herself in the face of her rising arousal. He could scent how much she wanted him, and it pleased him greatly.
Dropping his hand, he shrugged. “Just don’t get too close to anyone and you should be fine.”
She looked over her shoulder, nibbling her bottom lip. “Be ready tonight,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear her. “I’m putting a plan in motion. I’ll try to include Zev and Aya, but you may have to come for them before you make a run for it.”
“Why tonight?” At his question, the ground shifted slightly beneath their feet. As before, dust rained down on them from the ceiling as the caverns settled. Instantly, Brandwulfr’s hackles rose. Automatically, his arm shot out for Miranda, yanking her to him and into the shelter of his body. Every shifter in the cell stilled, scenting the air, crouching as if readying for battle.
“What was that?” she asked, peeking from under his arm even as her little fingers clutched his tattered shirt.
“Don’t know,” he replied, tightening his hold. “I’ve sensed a storm coming for weeks now. It’s closer,” he murmured. “You need to get out of here. Don’t come back. Do what you have to do to get me out of here, but don’t come back down here. Something’s...not right.”
Her slim body trembled against him as she nodded. Expecting an argument, Brandwulfr was surprised she acquiesced so quickly. He looked down into her pale face, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve braved my wrath on this in the past. Now you agree with me?”
With a sheepish look she admitted, “I’m slightly afraid of closed-in spaces. Especially when earthquakes threaten to bring it down.”
“What? You’re not at all concerned about me like you were before?” Brandwulfr surprised himself with his light teasing.
Gladiator Wolf (Gladiators Book 1) Page 8
