Deadmen Walking
Page 20
So much power for him.
She was virgin still.
“How could I have been so stupid?”
She was right. He was an idiot. Raking his hands over his face, he cursed himself for the fool he’d been. Normally, he could sense such things. Had no problem, point of fact.
Marcelina had always been different. She was his weakness, through and through.
Today, she’d almost been his death.
I have to get rid of her. It didn’t matter how much he might love her. She’d forever been his one blind spot. The one vulnerability in an otherwise impenetrable fortress.
He rubbed his finger over his ring as he finally admitted the one truth that he couldn’t escape. Mara didn’t need his harthfret to control him. He’d been her hopeless slave since the moment he first gazed into those amber eyes. She owned him, body and soul.
His only salvation was the fact that she’d been as blind to him as he was to her—that she’d never once realized he wasn’t the one in control of their relationship.
She was.
For her, there was nothing he wouldn’t do at her simplest command. That was why he’d brought her back to be their ship. He didn’t want to be here without her. Even if it meant enduring her hatred and scorching condemnation. So long as she spoke to him in any manner, he’d take it.
But no more. It was time that he severed their tattered past and let her go.
All things came to an eventual end.
It was time he cast away his heart and made sure that nothing stopped him from what was to come. He was the one who’d given Vine her powers. Who’d enabled her to become the threat she was.
Thorn had charged him with protecting the world and that was his duty now. He couldn’t let anything else get in the way.
Not even Mara.
And certainly not himself.
Nay, he would give his life to this cause. That was the way of it. There was no other outcome to be had, and he knew it.
14
Mara groaned as the tumultuous sea crashed against her sides and battered every part of her. For hours now, the storm had surged violently as if trying its best to send them to the bottom of the ocean.
All of the crew had taken cover belowdecks.
Meanwhile, she lay in her bunk, sick to her stomach, wishing for any reprieve from this misery. It was so bad, she couldn’t even change forms for it. The last thing any Deruvian wanted was to regurgitate in their wooden form.
That was a sight and sensation no one needed. Ever.
And just when she didn’t think she could take another minute of it, strong arms pulled her against an equally hard chest.
“Drink this.”
“I’m too sick, Du.”
He brushed the hair back from her cheek. “I know, love. This will help.” He lifted the cup to her lips.
Convinced she’d return it within a few seconds of swallowing, she obeyed. But as she got a bit of it down, it did indeed ease her nausea. After a few minutes, her headache began to lessen, too, and it was only then that she realized Duel was in the bed with her, holding her against his warmth while he rocked her in time to the sea.
He set the empty cup on her nightstand. But due to the storm, it didn’t stay there. Rather, it was thrown to the floor and rolled across the boards to land in a corner.
“What was in that?”
“Ginger root. Peppermint. A little honey…”
When he didn’t continue, she arched her brow at him. “And?”
The corner of his lips lifted into a teasing half smile as he smoothed her hair around her face. “Best you don’t know.”
Laughing, she let out a small groan as another wave went through her. “How much longer till the storm passes?”
“The worst of it is over. The sea should settle within a few hours.”
“A few hours?” she moaned. “I shan’t make it.”
He snorted at her misery. “Sure you will. Just think about something else.”
“Like what?”
The teasing light remained in those dark eyes and for once, she caught a glimpse of the dimples she’d never known he had until very recently. “How much you hate me.”
Impishly, she placed her hand over one of those beckoning deep indentations in his cheeks. “I told you, I don’t hate you.”
“Anymore.”
Grimacing at his continued torment, she glared at him. “I’m too ill for this, Duel. Please don’t harass me.” She dropped her gaze down to the bruise on his arm from his fight earlier that day. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly? I’m in agony.”
“You handle it well.” Much better than she did.
“’Cause I’m used to it.” As he started to withdraw from her bed, Mara stopped him.
“Stay with me and hold me. I’ve no wish to be alone when I feel like this.” Rolling to give him her back, she snuggled up against him and rested her head against his muscled arm. “I haven’t had any comfort in so long.… I miss it terribly.”
Devyl winced as guilt stabbed him hard at those whispered words. He was the sole reason for that. Had he not removed her from her home, she would have been with her family and friends. Not locked in his hell where she sought to avoid all contact with him and his people.
Or worse, kept in stasis because of his magick.
Wanting to make it up to her, he settled down behind her and pulled her back against his chest so that he could hold her in the dim light. Before he could stop himself, or think better of it, he caressed the softness of her silken cheek. Thoughts of what could have been haunted him and tortured him.
If only he could go back in time.…
Closing her eyes, she let out a contented sigh. But he was far from satisfied with this small bit. Rather, his body was rock hard and aching for the one thing he knew she’d never give him. And now that he knew she’d never been touched by another …
That was out of the question. He’d purposely avoided virgins. They were a complication no man needed. He preferred women who knew their own minds and bodies. Those well experienced who didn’t get their hearts entangled needlessly.
Yet therein was the problem. Her heart was something he’d wanted since the first day they met. And for once it wasn’t to feast upon it out of vexed frustration.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to banish the part of him he hated most. That weak, insipid, useless piece that continued to crave frumpish things he knew he couldn’t have.
Home. Family.
Love.
Those were for better men. Never were they meant for the likes of him.
And as he lay there, harder than hell, the unthinkable happened. She trailed her hand down his forearm until she laced her tiny fingers with his. Then she brought his hand up to rest between her breasts so that she could snuggle against it.
“Why do you tremble so?” she breathed.
Because her gentle touch humbled him. It wrought a foreign tenderness inside him that wanted to protect and hold her forever. But he would never admit that out loud. “I’m trying to respect you, my lady.”
Mara rolled slightly so that she could meet his gaze, which swam with emotions she’d never seen there before. The moment she did, she felt his erection against her hip and saw the vibrant red color of his eyes. “Are you angry?”
“Nay. Too hungry to feel any other emotion.”
“Then you should eat.”
He gave her that handsome, adorable, crooked grin of his. “It’s not food I be craving.”
Her heartbeat picked up speed. “Would it take my mind off the storm?”
Again, he tried to pull away. But since he didn’t use his powers, she knew that he didn’t really want to go.
“Duel?”
“You have to leave, Mara. So long as you’re here, I can’t do what I need to.”
“And what’s that?”
“Stay focused on closing the Carian Gate.”
“If I go, a regular ship can’t protect y
“I’m a Deruvian, too. I can do it.”
She arched a skeptical brow. “Have you ever?”
He looked away.
“Nay, you have not,” she chided gently. “You’ve spent the whole of your life hiding those powers, haven’t you? And you’ll find it’s not as easy as you think. You learning to bend the laws of nature to make and run a ship would be the same as my trying to learn swordplay. You can’t just pick up and run until you’ve mastered crawling. And you have yet to stand on your own with those powers.”
Refusing to release her grip on his hand, she pulled him back into her arms. “We have been together far longer than we lived as single beings, Dón-Dueli. By Deruvian law, we would be considered married.”
Devyl swallowed. What she said was true. Deruvians considered marriage to be any communal arrangement where two of them took care of each other and cohabitated. Where two unrelated by blood were dependent upon each other. As much as he wanted to deny it, he needed her with him. He always had. “And what about your sister?”
“She’s a widow by her own hand. You’re free to marry another.”
Dagda’s hairy toes, how he wanted to believe that.
Nay, he needed to believe it, but …
“Is this a trick?”
She pulled her necklace over her head and placed her harthfret into his palm, then closed his fingers around it. “No trick, Du. The more I think it through, the more sense this makes. I’ve known no man save you. I can’t imagine my life without you aggravating me.”
He laughed bitterly at those words. “I aggravate you?”
“’Deed you do. All the time.”
Sinking his hands into her hair, he kissed her playfully. This was all kinds of madness. To even contemplate it …
But as she said, he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. And if she would have him, then he had all the more reason to fight Vine and win. All the more reason to see this through to the end and come out of it alive.
If Mara truly meant what she said, then he would see his soul redeemed. Her words gave him hope for the first time in his life. A reason for living past the closing of the gate.
And he was desperate for that future. For any future that didn’t leave him alone.
She pulled his shirt off.
Devyl froze, half expecting her to change her mind and order him from her room.
Instead, she ran her hand over the scar across his ribs where he’d been stabbed centuries ago in battle, and then to the jagged remains of where Vine had cut out his heart. That gentle touch set fire to his blood, but not half as much as when she dipped her head and replaced her fingers with her lips.
The chills and desire awoken by her breath on his flesh wrung a fierce groan from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything like this.
Unable to stand it, he lifted her across his chest and rolled so that she rested on top of him.
Mara smiled before she nipped at his whiskered chin. This was a miracle and she knew it. For the first time, she didn’t see his mistakes or shortcomings when she thought of him. She saw only all the thoughtful things he’d done for her over the centuries. Such as making sure she was cared for. That she had her own small nemeton in the courtyard grounds of his hall when they’d lived in Tintagel.
Small matters, really, and yet he’d taken great care of them all, to ensure that she had everything she needed.
Closing her eyes, she held him close as she remembered the way he’d looked just a few months ago when he’d awakened her from her slumber.
She’d been so angry to find him in the shadows of an abandoned abbey. So terrified of the foreign landscape that had seemed eerily familiar and completely alien. “What is this? Where am I?”
“You swore an oath to protect the Myrce.” It was, after all, what her name, Marcelina, meant. “They’re being threatened and I need your help to banish their threat back before it eradicates the last of the people you guard.”
Stunned, she’d stared up at him in total disbelief. “I saw you dead. How are you here?” Dumbfounded, she’d glanced around the overgrown courtyard. “How am I?”
“I was returned to life to fight the threat. Because I’m back, so are you. Are you with me for this?”
She’d nodded without full understanding of what he was proposing. Without knowing about Thorn or his Hellchasers, or the fact that it was her sister they’d be up against.
While her people weren’t warriors like Duel’s, they did use their magick to control the elements and to shield those who came under their protection. Their idea of battle and war was vastly different than his.
And his people had no concept of love.
At least that was what she’d always been told. But as she met his gaze and saw his tender expression and felt the hesitancy of his touch, she finally knew better. He did know what love was. It showed in everything he did for her. All those little things that he’d gone out of his way to ensure were done to make it easier for her, such as having food ready, or lodgings. To guarantee that she was always respected.
Seeing him clearly now for the first time, she lifted her hips as he slid her nightdress up so that he could skim his hand over her thigh, to her waist. A moment of panic went through her at the shocking contact, but she forced it away. There was nothing to fear with Duel. Of all beings, he wouldn’t hurt her. Not intentionally. She knew that without a doubt.
He left her lips so that he could kiss his way down her body, to her exposed belly. Hissing, Mara sank her hand into his wavy mass of soft black hair and held him closer to her as his hot breath caressed her skin.
Devyl took his time sampling every inch of her skin, and especially her breasts. He still couldn’t believe he was here and that this wasn’t a dream. That she was finally allowing him to have her.
How many times had he imagined being with her like this? Dreamt of her touching him with something other than scorn or hatred? And the reality was so much better than anything he’d ever concocted in his fantasies.
Licking his lips, he pulled her gown over her head, then rolled to trap her under him. “Are you feeling better?”
She touched her nose playfully to his before she answered. “You were right. My mind is completely off my misery.”
Too bad his wasn’t. The pain of wanting to be inside her was excruciating. And it took every bit of his will not to rush, but this was her first time and the last thing he wanted was to ruin it for her.
Or worse, cause her pain.
A smile tugged at the edges of his lips as she bashfully reached for the waistband of his breeches, then hesitated. He kissed her again. “You can touch me, Mara. I promise you, I won’t mind at all.”
A bright red blush crept over her cheeks.
Tsking at her, he took her hand into his and slowly guided her toward his cock, then showed her how to stroke him.
Mara bit her lip as she watched the pleasure play across Duel’s face. He was so hard and soft at the same time. Like velvet stretched over steel.
That familiar tic returned to his cheek as he growled deep in his throat.
It made her feel powerful to hold him like this. To know she controlled his pleasure.
At least until he returned the favor and began stroking her intimately. Arching her back, she cried out at the most incredible pleasure she’d ever felt. What was he doing to her?
But even more incredible was the unexpected surge it gave her powers. They sizzled through her body. “Can you feel that?” she whispered.
“I feel it.”
Mara gasped as she realized that his eyes were no longer red or dark. They now glowed a vibrant amber … the color of a Deruvian magus’s eyes. She trembled at that significance. “How much power do you wield?”
“My grandfather was the king of the Adoni, and my mother a daughter of Yggdrasill.”
Mara’s head swam at that confession. A daughter of Yggdrasill would have held unbelievable powers. No wonder he could predict the weather. Which made her wonder …
“Can you control the elements?”
“I can summon storms, but not banish them. And I can command lightning, but the control of the sea is beyond my abilities.”
That sent a shiver over her. “And from the Adoni?”
He nuzzled her neck as his hand sent ribbons of pleasure through her. “Is this really the conversation you wish to hold right now?”
She blushed again at his question. “I’m just trying to understand you.”
Devyl nibbled her collarbone. There was nothing for her to understand. Not really. He was terribly uncomplicated. Just a broken man who was bent on vengeance.
Of course that was a little more complicated given the fact he doubted Mara would stand by while he took her sister’s head. The one thing about Mara, she was loyal to a fault. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her sister.
Worse, he held a secret that, if she ever learned it, would guarantee her enmity for all eternity.
But he didn’t want to think about that right now. Not when her warm, supple body was beneath his.
His heart pounding, he pulled away long enough to remove his boots and stockings.
Mara traced the scars on his back with her nails, sending chills over him. “Are all these from battle?”
“Nay,” he said gruffly. “My father was a firm believer in the lash. As was my mother.”
“I’m sorry, Duel.”
“It doesn’t bother me.” That was the truth. Perhaps there had been a time in his childhood when it had, yet he couldn’t recall it. “Better me than either of my sisters.”
She rose up to gently kiss his scars. He sucked his breath in sharply. And when she wrapped her arms around him, he lost himself to her completely. Dagda help him. He wanted to die in this moment. To end eternity right here and now on this one perfect feeling of being wanted. Desired.
He could almost believe that she loved him, and that was the worst of all. Because he wanted it to be real. He wanted this fantasy.
Craved it with everything he wasn’t worth.
But it was bullshit. He had no doubt.
And yet …
His hand trembling, he undid his breeches and slid them from his body.
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