by Starla Night
“A king is the law. And I did not try.” He pressed a hard hand to his chest. “I succeeded.”
Chapter Fifteen
Balim sat on the foot of the bed at the rental while the shower ran in the other room, washing the icy lake water off his bride’s chilled body.
His confession froze his heart.
He rested the towel on his wet shoulders. The dark water bunched up his shirt and pants. They’d risen from the lake, she’d pulled on her clothes, and they’d gone to this rental house. Bella had barely looked at him.
The shower shut off. Minutes passed. She did not emerge from the bathroom.
He rested his palms on the edge of the bed.
This reaction he expected from a human.
No warrior could accept such horrifying disloyalty to a king, not even the rebels who’d escaped their own cities. He was the only one who’d escaped with a king’s blood on his hands.
He should have committed suicide.
But he had lived. He’d stood before the vent into the blacknight sea and offered himself to the darkness. The sea beneath the sea where the bodies of dead warriors were flung, with songs of honor, to hunt the bodiless denizens of eternal darkness. A reverse current had pushed him back like the hand of his father on his chest. A voice had whispered in his ear.
No. You must live.
And the deathly box had been prised from his fingers by that same current and dragged into the vent.
He could not return to his city, Undine, so he had carried on in search of a new allegiance. Soren had been gathering warriors to storm the All-Council prison to release King Kadir. Balim had been by his side from the moment they’d rolled the rock away from the entrance and discovered Kadir on the brink of death, mere bones and skin, kept alive only by his vision for a healthy, thriving mer race united with modern women. Balim had nursed him back to health.
He had killed a king, and he had healed a king.
But he could never atone.
The bathroom door opened. A puff of steam danced on the ceiling as Bella emerged. Her skin was pink and clean; her rounded shoulders peeked from the thick towel. Her shapely legs and bare feet padded across the carpet. Her curls dampened to red ringlets against her freckle-dotted shoulders.
His body reacted as he gazed on her. She was any male’s dream, warrior or human.
The last thing he expected was for her to plop beside him on the foot of the bed. Still avoiding his gaze, she curled her toes. “You’ve probably seen many people naked, being a doctor.”
He bobbed his head because he had.
“No big deal, then.” She brushed her hair off her shoulders. “The freckles go all the way down. That surprises some people. Not you, though.”
He didn’t know how to answer.
She also didn’t seem to know how to talk normally. “The shower’s free.”
Balim rose and toed off his damp loafers.
“Balim.” She hooked her fingers around his wrist, stopping him. She’d just emerged from a hot shower and was still radiating heat, yet her fingertips were cool on his skin. “I’m not angry about what you told me. And you live in a strict hierarchy. Isn’t it dangerous to admit you killed your king?”
“A death sentence.”
She nailed his gaze with hers. “Why do you trust me? You know the person I am. If I could use you to save Jonah, I would.”
She coldly and honestly announced how she would betray him. He had to stifle his laugh. “Perhaps I am beyond caring. Perhaps I am the tired one. Perhaps, knowing you will never be mine, I simply fantasize that these hours are different and outside the rest of time. Stolen, never to repeat, and thus with no consequences. Or, perhaps, this is how I wish for my death.”
Her chest flickered with lights. She released his hand as though it burned and covered her mouth. “Go take a shower.”
He obeyed, leaving her on the bed looking shaken while he scrubbed off the water of the lake and replaced it with the strange oils and lotions preferred by the land-dwelling humans. When he returned, she was in the same place, her chest bright and a strange resolve on her face.
She rose. “This night is outside of time.”
“Bella. Do not dwell on my words.”
She dropped her towel, revealing her shapely body to his hot, hungry gaze. His cock hardened and thickened with readiness. There was no doubt of her meaning. Not in her eyes, her actions, or in the glow of her soul.
Bella crossed the carpet, arms out, and unfastened his towel at his waist to reveal the full glory of his body. He was not as massive as some warriors, but he was still a warlord of the sea. Ropes of muscle bound his biceps, pectorals, lats, and quadriceps. Her hungry gaze traced them all.
She pressed the tattoo at his hip. The scar of the injury was long gone, but the two sides had cinched together off-center. “What’s this?”
“My citizen mark for Undine.” He curled his hands around her slim fingers and brought the cool digits to his lips.
Arousal washed over her face.
He kissed her fingers, nibbling the soft pads and the sharp nails, teasing and testing her will. Would she reject him? He tried to shore his heart against it, even knowing it was coming.
She stepped into his arms. Her full breasts that had already nursed a child displayed proud pink nipples. Her wide belly that had already carried a human child to term was rounded and ready.
Bella opened a small square packet.
He watched with curiosity as she unrolled it. “What is this device?”
“A condom.” She touched the tip to his cock head. “It prevents pregnancy.”
Her confession drew pain because she did not wish to bear his young fry. Her clever fingers drew pleasure from rolling the plastic over his hard cock.
Amusement won out. “Only humans would invent this device.”
She looked up. “When you have ten kids, I doubt you’ll complain.”
“Ten young fry? I would not tax my female’s precious body with more than one.”
Her lips quirked, and pure laughter gleamed behind her twitching expression. “Mmm. Glad to hear you won’t fight me on it.”
“Fight! Never.”
“Good.” She rose and placed his hands on her hips. She was warm and soft and smooth, feminine, and touching her made his body clench with hungry wishes.
Knowing the battle that raged within, she cupped his cheek and nuzzled his lips. “Only tonight. Understand?”
He understood. Even though the welling of powerful need filled him with heat and hunger and denied her words. He would only hunger to claim her again. Better never to taste than to crave the flavor which could never be his.
Despite that, he lowered his head to her tipped-up lips and gave in.
Bella hadn’t intended for this to happen. She’d been with a few men since Chaz. Some might have developed into relationships.
No beautiful, wounded males like Balim.
She opened to his delicious flavor, and again the unstoppable feelings mesmerized her. He settled her soft vee against his firm, thick cock, and then his hands lifted, united on her breasts, rubbed the pearly nipples. Desire streaked to her center, and hot liquid slicked her feminine channel. He lifted his head, his lips damp with her flavors and his gaze wild. He kissed down her chest to her breasts and wet her nipples, worshipping first one with his mouth and then the other. Another wave of hot need crashed through her. She clung to his shoulders and moaned.
Balim walked her back onto the bed, kneed between her thighs, and kissed to her belly. He was careful of his cock, never touching the condom to her body, at the ready.
Sweet need thrilled her as his hands cupped her mons, parted her sex lips, and his skillful fingers entered her with authority.
She rested her heels on the edge of the bed, opening to his expert exploration. “You’ve studied female anatomy.”
He lifted his head. “You are my first subject.”
“Oh? Well—mmm.”
He focused
his mouth, tongue, and fingers on her throbbing clit.
The same way he knew to pleasure her breasts, he moved over her body, bringing her to the peak of need and then letting her float, bringing her almost to the peak a second time, and releasing her tension, and then starting on a third until she was so mindless with want for him, she needed sex, now, with him and no other. Thank goodness she’d already put on the condom or else it would never have happened.
And only then, as if reading her mind, did he release his hold on her hot pussy and turn his attention to the other parts of her body begging for his claims.
She let go of her fears, her schemes, her identity. Just as she’d promised him this one night stood outside of time. She was female, a crusader, and he was male, a warrior.
She gripped his hips and dragged his smooth rubber-clad cock to her wet entrance, begging him to take her and finish. Some men never approached a peak. None lasted to three. And if he took her now, they would share something she’d never experienced: Patient, masterful, satiating sex with a male who knew her mind.
Because he did. They were linked. Mind and, as much as she fought against it, soul.
His cock arrested at her entrance. Heat burned his gaze as he held hers. “You are mine, Bella. My bride.”
Yes. But no. She wasn’t doing this now. Tonight was outside of time.
“Please,” she begged. Not to make her lie. Not now. Not like this.
He kissed her savagely, mixing his hard spice with her own taste, and his rubber-clad cock plunged into her channel, filling her. She gasped, and her body spasmed like when she’d dropped into the freezing water. But it was not freezing now. He was hotter than the sun, and she needed him in the depths of her core.
He ground his cock into her, finding her pleasure and chasing it, watching her with the savage need of a warrior who healed and who also hunted. Tonight, she was both patient and prey for him.
“Yes,” she murmured, arching into his thrusts, reaching for the ultimate peak with every pounding wish he fulfilled.
The orgasm shook her to her core.
Her channel clenched around his cock, spasming with helpless wonder, releasing her from her worries and her fears and herself. It purified her like a confession. It cleansed her soul and remade her into the woman she wished to be again.
He dropped his forehead to her shoulder and shuddered his own release. His cock pressed against her pleasure spot for one final hit of wonder. Then, they lay together for a long moment before he eased out.
She helped him remove the condom and dispose of it, and then they finished getting ready for a sleepy bedtime. He put back on his shirt and boxers, and she wore her long nightshirt. In bed, with only the bathroom nightlight for illumination, she nestled against his side.
Too bad Balim hadn’t been her first husband instead of Chaz. But she had been so selfish then. She wouldn’t have appreciated him.
She allowed herself a little tenderness. In the morning, she’d drive back to Jonah, execute her strategy against the Sons of Hercules, and leave Balim.
For his own safety.
Chapter Sixteen
But leaving Balim could wait.
For now, for a few more hours, Bella would pretend that she was his bride and he was her warrior.
“It is funny,” he said, startling her out of her reverie as she nestled against his bicep.
“What is?”
“Queen Elyssa also spoke of birthing multiple young fry. Her wish for five touched off a revolution.”
“A race on the brink of death isn’t excited about large families?”
“We did not believe a mother could birth so many. Even I doubted. Our All-Council representative destroyed Atlantis over this imagined torture.”
She rested on her elbow. “But you weren’t always in trouble. It can’t have been that way in the old days.”
“I do not know. The All-Council archives are forbidden. Because of this, ‘how things have always been’ changes often to suit a king.”
He could be describing her life after Jonah’s diagnosis. “I barely remember what it was like to wake up in the morning and worry about clients. I used to plan my holidays and weekends around marketing campaigns. I can’t remember the last time work was the top concern.”
He remained silent for a long beat.
Then, he rose out of the bed and rummaged in her purse for the bone marrow test kit. “How do I operate this?”
Her heart squeezed in her throat. She swiped the cotton-topped sticks on his inner cheeks, placed them inside the sticky cardboard, and filled out the registration form. Who knew? Perhaps he would match someone, somewhere, and that person could gain another shot at life.
Balim climbed back into their bed, and somehow, she just couldn’t follow him.
She settled on the chair and leaned on the back. “I’m sorry I can’t be the bride you need.”
His solemnity showed he understood that the night was already over, even though it was still dark. “You are more than I deserve.”
She rested her chin on her arm. “Because you murdered your king.”
“Other mer would agree with you.”
She should not ask any more details. “Was he special to you? Were you related?”
“He was king.” He fluffed the pillows and rested against the frame to look her in the eye. “Do not confuse me for a prince.”
“I wondered what crime devastated you, like losing a father.”
He stilled.
Then he rose from the bed and stalked the room. “Why did you reach this conclusion? What did I say?”
“Nothing. Until I met you, it was just me and Jonah. I had nobody else. Not even—”
Oh, she’d almost mentioned Starr. They hadn’t spoken in years. Not since the first, and last, time Bella had donned super-spy stuff and set out to wreck a criminal.
“Not even anybody,” she recovered. “And if anyone so much as touches Jonah without my permission, I will destroy them. The mer don’t have mothers or siblings, so the most important person would be your father.”
He faced away.
She touched his back. “I’m so sorry. Was he a warrior?”
“Healer.”
“Like you.”
“I was to inherit his place, but my warrior skill made me a liability on any mission. The prince overtook my training. He was the greatest, kindest, most capable warrior in Undine. In safe waters, raiders from another city surprised us.”
Balim rubbed the fractured tattoo on his hip.
“I was injured. The prince fought off our attackers at great cost. When we returned to the city, he ordered my father to heal my wounds first.”
“He died, and the king blamed your father?”
“He did not die. My father had stabilized me and was turning to heal the prince when the king mistook his son’s stillness for death. He stabbed my father through the heart.”
Her own heart hurt. “He was murdered right in front of you?”
He nodded, bleak in his memories. “The prince then awoke, but with no healer to attend him, he slipped away. I assumed guilt for both deaths.”
She rose and strode to the bed.
He looked up as though awaiting her judgment.
She pulled him into a life-affirming hug. “It’s not your fault.”
“My father’s last act was to stand in front of me and assume the blow.”
“He was glad to do that.” She pressed his morose head into her soft belly. “They both were.”
Balim tried to shake his head in her arms.
She gripped him tighter. “Your father would have given his life for yours a thousand times. He was grateful his last act was patching you up. I’m a mother, so I know.”
“You love your Jonah very much.”
“He’s my life. And you were your father’s.”
He remained silent for a long time.
Eventually, she slid down and landed next to him on the bed. His tattoos seemed a deeper tint, a
s though reliving these memories had forced old blood to the surface.
He took her hand and slid his fingers between hers, sensual and taking comfort. “You do misunderstand our ways. While I trained at the great hall of healers, no one tended Undine. I endangered everyone.”
“Your king killed off the only doctor. He was short-sighted.”
“Undine is a scholar’s city of quiet reflection, but a core of emotion hides in every warrior. Once tapped, our urges are as deadly as any hot-blooded warrior from Rusalka or Djullanar.”
“That still doesn’t make what happened your fault.”
“You will change your mind after I explain the rest.”
She closed her mouth.
“After I returned, King Kadir traveled to Undine. He was only Warrior Kadir of Dragao Azul then. He preached that the ancient covenant was wrong, and the only way to save our dying race was to expose the mers’ existence and join with modern women. I was, in his words, ‘unappreciated,’ and so he asked me to leave with him.”
Emotion animated his tone as if this part were easy for him to reexperience.
“My city elders kicked him out, and the king delivered a powerful speech. I owed the city for surviving when worthier warriors had died, so if I swam beyond the city limits, even to heal a patrolling warrior, he would have me executed.”
“They trapped you.”
He tilted his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her assessment. “During my training, I had stolen a cursed blade, and after his final ruling, I offered it as a token of my fealty.”
“The diseased battlefield?”
“Oannes Field.” Again that bleak tone replaced any emotions. “He rejected my offering and threatened my life.”
She hugged him. “It almost sounds like he wanted an excuse to execute you.”
He rested a hand on her arm. “The king confined me to my father’s castle. But he must have opened the box after, because he fell ill with the blue chains. I escaped during the funeral procession, disposed of the dagger, and left.”
“Did anyone else figure it out?”
“Of course not. I was the only healer. No one could contradict my diagnosis.”
