Even the idea of slicing through his dark, smooth skin was sickening. She’d already shed too much blood and it hadn’t done her much good. More men kept coming, her violent warnings unheeded. Perhaps she needed a new approach.
As she pondered this, she grinned.
Diplomacy had never been her strong suit.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, steamy and pink from her shower, wrapped in a towel, Morgan Valens was in her room, lounging on her bed.
His big body ate up the space, making the room feel suddenly smaller, warmer. The air around him practically shimmered with power, like waves of heat rising from sundrenched rocks.
She hadn’t gotten a good look at him in the dark outside that cave tonight—just a vague impression of size and strength—but she could see him well now, under the golden lamplight bathing his skin.
He was a large, broad man, with thickly muscled limbs and impressively wide shoulders. He had brown skin and matching eyes that never left her body. His black hair was cropped short and his features reminded her of Egyptian pharos, steeped in power and mystery.
His pose was relaxed, regal. There was no hint of threat in his expression, though she could see from the dip in the waistband of his jeans that he was armed with the sword their kind always carried. It wasn’t visible now, but the evidence that he knew how to wield it was obvious.
Even from across the room she could see thick pads of callused skin on his palms where the hilt had left its mark from centuries of use. The short sleeves of his gray T-shirt revealed muscles in his forearms that were created only from wielding a heavy weapon.
The branches of his lifemark snaked out from under his sleeve. She imagined the living image of the tree all Theronai men wore spanning across his chest, the roots slipping low under his belt, toward his groin.
Heat suffused her cheeks as she realized she was staring, but she couldn’t stop herself. She wondered how many leaves his lifemark still held—how much time he had left until his soul began to decay the way Iain’s had.
The urge to help Mr. Valens, to save him, was strong. She’d been raised knowing her role as a female of their kind. She was born to be powerful, deadly. But that power came with a price. She had to tie herself a to man who could offer her protection and allow her to tap into a reservoir of energy she could only imagine. Only when she was bound to such a man would she realize her true potential.
The idea chafed as much as it intrigued her and she wondered if Mr. Valens could see that in her eyes—if he knew how much she craved that strength.
If he knew her weakness.
She clutched the damp towel tighter and lifted her chin as she moved toward her small suitcase.
He followed her with his dark eyes, tracking her movement. He stayed still where he lounged on her bed, seemingly no threat.
Serena knew better.
If she bolted for the door, she couldn’t say who would reach it first. Even with her gift.
She was too tired for wielding more magic today. She’d used every meager ounce of power she had tonight to clean out that nest. She was completely tapped out, and somehow, she was sure Mr. Valens knew it.
The hotel towel was soft, but far too thin for her peace of mind. She was acutely aware of her nudity, and based on the flare of Mr. Valens’ nostrils as he stared, so was he.
“How did you get in?” she asked.
She wanted to reach for her clothing, but worried that if she loosened her grip on the towel, it would fall.
“Charm,” he said. “You should try it sometime.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not my style. I prefer honesty.”
He lifted a brow at that. “Are you calling me a liar?” His voice lilted more with amusement than accusation.
“Should I, Mr. Valens?”
He stared at her so long, she started to shiver, though whether it was from the chill of the cooling towel or the heat of his gaze, she couldn’t tell.
“It’s time to come home, Serena,” he said as he sat upright. “Tell me what I can do to convince you.”
That surprised her. None of the other men who’d come for her had asked her such a question. They’d all spewed speeches about honor and duty, never once stopping to ask her what she wanted.
Was it a trick?
Serena studied his face for signs of treachery, but found none. “Why do you care? If Joseph is calling in his warriors, then the Sentinels will have all the protection they need to watch over both the humans they protect as well as the new Theronai babies. I’m not necessary.”
He rose from the bed, and she was shocked again by the size of him. He stole her breath, like a splash of icy water across her skin.
The human men of her time weren’t so large. Some of the Theronai were, but she hadn’t been around many of them, thanks to her overprotective mother. Only men who could further their family’s station were allowed near Serena. She was a tool, her beauty and youth a bargaining chip her mother used well and often.
Other than at their local church, which was all but mandatory attendance back in the day, Serena was rarely allowed to mingle with the locals—human or Theronai—and never with Slayers whose savage ways were to be mistrusted.
She was definitely mingling now. Alone, after dark, in a private room with her wearing only a towel…. Her mother would have been scandalized. Furious.
Serena grinned at the image.
She knew that times were different now. Men and women often disrobed in front of each other within moments of meeting. Sex was spoken about openly, displayed everywhere, and people dressed so provocatively, it was a wonder anyone ever got any work done at all.
Still, modern clothes were wonderous creations of lace and sparkle. She could barely stop herself from spending all her allowed funds on colorful, flirty gowns that would have gotten her flogged for wearing in her time.
Now they simply gained her more male attention than she liked, which she could handle. The inconvenience was well worth such beauty gracing her skin.
Even the underthings women wore now were delicious. Soft, silken and beautiful, coming in vivid colors and an array of adornments she could have only imagined in her time.
She had such garments only inches away from her, but dared not reach for them. What if Mr. Valens saw what she wore beneath her clothing? Would he be shocked, disgusted? Or would he continue to give her that hungry look that made her body shimmer and tremble?
He moved slowly across the space. The closer he came, the bigger he got, until he was all but blocking out the light behind him.
A yellow glow from the bathroom lit his features and made his dark eyes glitter. Shadows caressed the hollows beneath his cheekbones and filled the space beneath his wide jaw. Her gaze slid to the base of his throat where the luminescent colors of his luceria swirled deep within the surface of the magical band. The dance of those colorful ribbons caught her attention and held it, almost hypnotically. She ached to run her finger along the smooth surface and see if it carried the heat of his body, or if it was cool to the touch like metal.
That necklace wasn’t his. He was only a caretaker, holding it for the woman to whom it would one day belong. Like the matching ring on his left hand, the luceria was a magical conduit for the power he housed—the way the female Theronai siphoned off the energy the male stored.
Serena lifted her arm to reach toward him, but the towel slipped a scant inch, shocking her back to attention.
He tipped his head down and spoke in a low, quiet voice, as one would to a skittish animal. It was a nice voice, smooth and deep. Like the rest of him, there was no frantic rush to his words, only easy patience and absolute control.
“Bringing you home is as much for your protection as ours. You need to be with your people and we need your help to rebuild Dabyr.” His gaze dipped to her mouth, then back to her eyes. “Please, Serena, just tell me what I can do to keep from chasing you down again. This doesn’t have to be a fight.”
She lifted her chin with
an air of confidence she didn’t feel. This man put her off balance and made her shake, though not with fear.
The reason she trembled was far more dangerous than mere emotion—a reason she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge, even within the private confines of her own mind.
“Do you think I’m afraid of you?” she asked, her voice weaker than she’d intended.
“I don’t think you’re afraid of anything. That’s part of the problem.”
He was wrong. She was afraid. Terrified.
She held his gaze and forced her voice to come out as smooth and even as his, without the slightest tremor. “Courage is an asset.”
“Right up until the point that it gets you killed.”
“Why do you care?” she asked. “You don’t know me. We share no past or kin. Why don’t you just go home and leave me in peace?”
Something was about to happen. She felt it in the very air, saw it in the slight tension of his body and the way his pupils flared. Something was about to happen, and it was going to change everything.
“Because of this,” he said, slowly, with absolute confidence. Certainty.
Mr. Valens wrapped his big hands around her bare shoulders and held her in a firm grasp.
Serena’s world shifted in an instant. Everything inside of her began to shimmer. Hot summer sun, sweat-slick bodies gliding together, soft fur rugs, and the endless moment of tension before orgasm—all those feelings mingled together under his touch and radiated out along her skin.
The sensation was amazing. Consuming. She closed her eyes, basked in the glow of it, and let her head fall back on a groan of delight.
Reality altered to reshape itself into something new and exciting. Endless possibility and hope wrapped around her, filling her mind with the purest form of temptation.
Morgan Valens was raw power walking around on two legs—power that belonged solely to her.
As soon as she realized what this feeling was—what it meant—her mind turned cold as her heart rejected the idea outright.
“We’re compatible?” she asked, her words breathless and filled with apprehension.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. She knew the truth.
Morgan Valens could be her mate. He could offer her everything she’d been promised as a girl—boundless power and the strength to fight their enemy. Beside him, she would be a formidable force of nature. Unstoppable.
She looked up to find him staring down at her with raw desire tightening his features. His fingers slid down to shackle her upper arms. Those long fingers of his wrapped all the way around her biceps, proving just how scrawny she was compared to a physical powerhouse like him. As he held her, her towel loosened from where she had it pinned around her torso and slipped to her feet, leaving her damp, shaken and completely naked.
She didn’t care. She knew she should, but there were too many sensations winging through her for her to worry about modesty.
Serena had far larger problems.
She’d been touched twice before by men who were compatible with her—men whose vast stores of power she could wield—but never before had it felt like this.
Iain’s touch had been sweet and warm—fuzzy puppies and spring breezes. With Mr. Tolland, it had been sharp and stinging, like lightning storms and static electricity in the dead of winter.
With the man touching her now, their connection was like liquid intensity flowing through her veins, heating her skin and making her want. Desire.
Need.
Her body softened against his, heated. She couldn’t help her reaction, or how she swayed on her feet, tilting toward his massive gravitational pull on her.
His fingers tightened around her biceps to hold her up. His arms flexed slightly, and without effort, he drew her toward him until her naked breasts were pressed against his soft, gray shirt.
She had never wished for the feel of a man’s bare skin on her flesh more than she did in this moment. If she’d had any control over her limbs at all, she would have ripped the offending garment from his wide shoulders and taken what she wanted.
Hot skin on hot skin. Her aching breasts against the taut, muscular planes of his chest. His power flowing into her, her hungry body lapping up every spark he had to offer.
“I suspected it was true when I saw you dancing,” he said, his tone strained and uneven for the first time since they’d met. “But I never realized it would be like this.”
There was a sense of wonder weaving through his words, a sigh of relief with every breath he took.
“It’s never been like this for me before,” she said.
Why had she said that? Why had she revealed such a truth to a virtual stranger?
He opened his eyes and looked at her. Into her. Satisfied. Pleased. “That’s good.”
Her knees quivered, threatening to buckle. Heat suffused her and left goosebumps dancing along her skin. Her nipples hardened against his chest, and based on the clenching of his wide jaw, he’d felt it too.
“Let me claim you,” he said. “Protect you.”
Everything in her went cold. This was what she’d feared. This was what she had to avoid at all costs.
Like all men, Mr. Valens wanted to chain her, cage her, steal her meager freedom.
She shoved herself away from his body and his embrace, and all the physical temptation he offered.
As she stumbled back, he doubled over in pain. A rough, pitiful moan erupted from his chest, and he fell to his knees. Harsh, painful gagging sounds came out of him, like he was struggling not to vomit.
Her heart felt a moment of sympathy, of regret, but it passed quickly as her self-preservation instincts shooed all that away.
Serena had heard that all the unbound male Theronai still alive today bore hideous pain. The energy they housed was designed to grow and replenish every day, but without a female of their kind to siphon off some of that power, it grew until it was nearly impossible to bear. Many of her kind had killed themselves to escape it, and even more had succumbed to the strain it placed on their lifemark—the visible indicator of their magical health. Once a man’s lifemark was bare of leaves, his soul would die and he would become twisted and evil.
Just as Iain had.
Serena hadn’t been able to save him, but she was capable of saving the man kneeling in front of her, trembling like a child.
But could she? Could she give up her freedom and allow herself to be claimed, as he said? Could she willingly place herself in this man’s care and allow him to protect her?
What if he caged her, as her mother had? What if he coddled her and took away her freedom?
She couldn’t live like that again. She’d already given up too much of her life. She had nothing left to give and not lose her sanity as well.
“No,” she said, forcing her wavering voice to harden into solid, unquestionable resolve. “I’d rather die free than live caged.”
No matter how alluring the prison he offered might be.
He looked up at her, his face a tense mask of pain. He was incredibly handsome, and suffering deeply, but she couldn’t let either of those facts sway her. Many men were handsome. Many men suffered. She couldn’t let him hold sway over her simply because of his nearness.
“I’d never cage you, Serena.” His gaze dipped to her naked breasts, then lower, to her sex. Hunger drove back some of the agony in his expression, softening the lines between his brows, as if merely looking at her eased some of his pain.
Her towel was at his knees. If she got close enough to pick it up, she’d be close enough for him to touch her again. And if he did that, she wasn’t sure she could remember why she shouldn’t accept his offer and give into the liquid intensity he sent winging through her veins.
So instead, she remained uncovered and forced herself to not to squirm.
“Easy to say,” she said. “But I’m not like these new women who were raised as human. I know the true nature of our kind, of men like you. Your intentions would be honorable,
but as time went on, you’d find ways to justify taking away my freedom, little by little. It would all be for my own good—or at least it would be in your mind—but the end result would be the same. I’d be bound to a man who sought to control me and tuck me away in a comfortable cage meant for my own protection.” She shook her head slowly. “I won’t live like that ever again.”
He pushed to his feet on powerful legs that strained the denim of his faded jeans. Even shaken as he was, he radiated strength.
Serena envied him for that even as she admired him.
She had to tilt her head back to keep looking him in the eye as he rose. She didn’t dare look away—not when it would be too easy for him to physically overpower her. As tired as she was, it wouldn’t take much to bind her against her will, stuff her in his truck, and drive her back to the last place on earth she wanted to go—Dabyr.
While the idea of his big hands on her naked flesh again held a certain appeal, she wasn’t about to sacrifice her entire future for a few moments of pleasure.
To his credit, his dark gaze stayed fixed on her face, rather than straying lower again. “What if I gave you my vow?”
Serena hadn’t considered that. Any promise he gave her would be binding. The magic behind a vow one of her kind made could not be broken—not unless she allowed it. And that, she would never do.
“What kind of vow?” she asked, calling herself a fool for even entertaining the idea.
He picked up her towel and held it out to her. “Cover yourself so I can think straight. No man can be expected to negotiate with a woman as beautiful as you standing in front of him, naked.”
She took the towel and held it over her breasts. “Negotiate?”
“Isn’t that what this is?” he asked. “We each have something the other wants.”
“I understand that you want me to come home and help rebuild, but what do you think you have that I want?”
A slow, languid smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Freedom, and the power to make it stick. Bound to me, you’ll have access to my power. No one would be able to force you to go where you don’t want go or do things you don’t want to do. Taking my luceria and tapping into that power is the only way you’ll ever truly be free.”
Saving Daylight Page 3
