by Dana Archer
The small smile Ilan flashes me holds a wicked edge to match the hunger in his eyes. Even with his contacts, I can see his desire. It sparks mine. The conversation we’ve just had should’ve left no room for the surge of lust, but it’s there. The heaviness in my lower belly, the craving for Ilan’s lips against mine, the desperation for his touch consume me. The changes pass through me so quickly, my knees weaken. I fist Ilan’s shirt as his heated gaze slips to my mouth.
“No. You don’t have to experience my memories.” Ilan bends close and traces my parted lips with the tip of his tongue. His breath mingles with mine, and my needs spiral. “It’s a deliberate decision to walk through your mate’s memories, but most soul-bonded couples access the memories of their other half to learn more about them. I’ll want to do so with yours.”
I scrape my nails over Ilan’s scalp, then curl my fingers around the back of his neck. “Then be prepared to feel how much I’ve needed you, to watch as I pleasured myself while thinking about you, to experience how your very presence calmed me.”
“And how much I frustrated you.” Ilan’s hand at the base of my spine slides lower, past the waistband of my pants. “I know I did. I could scent your anger, and it killed me knowing I was the cause of it, but I had no choice. I made the decision not to claim you and expose you to my dark soul.”
“But because of Soren, you did claim me.”
His body tensing, Ilan flexes his hand, squeezing my butt cheek. “Yes.”
I wait for anger and frustration to consume me. Maybe they should. Instead, all I feel is relief. “The fact that it took us this long to trust each other enough to accept our bond is just how it is. Maybe it was meant to be that way. I don’t know. But picking apart our motives or why we didn’t do something different is a waste of energy and won’t change anything. I’m just grateful we were put in a position where we had to trust each other. Knowing Soren was the reason only makes me love him more.”
Ilan brushes his lips over mine, and tingles spread outward, sensitizing my body. “For the longest time, I couldn’t understand why you would’ve been paired with me. I looked at you and saw the epitome of innocence, so sweet and pure I wanted to cower in your presence, but I shouldn’t have doubted the Kane goddess. You’re perfect for me, Sara.”
“Of course I am. I could’ve told you that.” The smile on my face doesn’t match the arousal building within me, but I couldn’t have stopped either reaction. Ilan does this to me, makes me feel happy and desired at the same time.
Ilan’s rich laugh wraps around me. “I love your goodness, your strength, your humor, your compassion. Everything. I love everything about you.”
The words I hadn’t expected to hear for a long time warm me from the inside out. A shaky exhale escapes my mouth, but before I can say the words back to Ilan, he kisses me. The deep melding of mouths loosens my body, leaving me relaxed and aroused. I lean back and welcome Ilan’s passion.
“Ilan, please.” I manage to get my plea out between kisses.
Ilan reaches between our bodies and pops the button on my jeans before shoving my pants down.
Eyes widened, I meet Ilan’s gaze. A predator stares back at me. He’ll eat me alive, but in a good way, one that’ll leave me begging for more. “Say what you need, Sara.”
“You inside me.”
Ilan’s mouth curves into a small grin. The tips of fangs poking past the line of his teeth give his smile a wicked edge. It matches the man, dangerous and tempting. I lean closer and kiss Ilan, slipping my tongue into his mouth and teasing those points. They’re not razor sharp, but they are deadly, just like this man. He’s powerful, a tamed killer.
And I’m his anchor.
A small whimper slips from me to Ilan. I kiss him deeper, fuller, exploring his mouth as he had mine. Ilan lifts me with a hand under my bottom and walks forward until my back presses into the wall of the elevator. The sound of a zipper reaches my ears. Not mine. My pants are already on the floor. Excitement quickens my breaths and my kiss. Soon I’ll feel the pleasures I hadn’t known existed before Ilan.
“Sara.” Ilan tips his head back enough to lock gazes with me. “My beautiful, precious female.”
With that, Ilan teases me. A shiver races through me. I can’t get away even if I wanted to. Ilan has me trapped between his hard body and the wall of the elevator.
More teasing strokes quickens my breath. His kiss turns brutal as my body strings tight.
“Ilan, please. Love me now.”
“It took us years to reach this point, my Sara. Don’t rush it. Enjoy the ride. Enjoy the pleasure only I can give you.”
Ilan sucks my lower lip into his mouth, preventing me from complaining about how I don’t want to wait. Unable to stop the primitive sound, I whimper again, the need for Ilan more than I can express in words. Only this primitive sound conveys what I’m feeling.
As if that was the signal Ilan was waiting for, he loves me. Dizziness threatens to bring a cloak of darkness over my eyes. I cling to Ilan, wrapping my unsteady arms around him and using him as an anchor. He’ll take me to heaven. I know it. Ilan will bring it down for me, wrapping the stars around me and binding my heart—and my love—more tightly around him.
Rough grunts tear from Ilan’s throat. He nips at my lips in a wild kiss that’ll be sure to leave my mouth swollen and eager for more of Ilan’s passion. I don’t want him to stop.
“More.” I say the word, but I can’t decide if it’s a demand or a plea. “Ilan, give me more.”
“Patience.” Ilan’s voice holds a gravelly edge, more animal than man. “I’ll give you everything, but on my terms, when I know I’m ready, when I know you’re ready.”
The demand for trust is unspoken, but I feel it. I nod, and turn my head for Ilan’s kiss. He twines his tongue with mine, a slow dance that doesn’t match the way he touches me. The stark difference pushes me higher. The expectation for pleasure one I don’t doubt. Ilan’s passion is worth waiting for, just as he was. It took us years to come together, and the well of desire we’ve built promises to be unending.
I give myself over to Ilan’s command, letting him lead me, and focus on my body. Each inhale fills my lungs with my lover’s scent. The dizziness returns, making my mind foggy. Lust replaces thought. Ilan loves me until I’m at the cusp of heaven.
Groaning, I fall into ecstasy, shattering into a million pieces as pleasure rips me apart. Embracing the freeing moment, I close my eyes. The glowing white ball I spied when Ilan walked through my soul fills my mind’s eye. The sphere is my soul. I know that now, but it doesn’t look quite the same. Instead of the dark cloud buoying it up, it appears lonely…scarred. There’s a hole where Ilan claimed a piece. There shouldn’t be a hole in my soul. Even as the thought forms, the reason why slips through me.
I need to claim a piece of Ilan’s soul to fill the hole, to complete me.
Twenty-Four
Ilan
After a quick trip to the bathrooms to clean up, Sara and I once again step into the elevator. The scent of our loving lingers, reminding me of the selfish moment I seized for us. Too bad it hadn’t been under better circumstances. Still, our encounter calmed the part of me that had been on edge ever since learning of the lion shifter’s latest—and last—attack on my true mate.
I cut a quick glance at the female who will soon carry a piece of my soul. Sara is a contradictory mix of strength, innocence, and courage. She’s perfect for me, the one woman who will love me as I am, trusting in me to be a man worthy of her.
Sara slides her gaze to me and smiles. My soul brightens, the piece of hers shining within me and chasing back the shadows. I love this woman, deeply and completely. I’d give my life for hers, but I refuse to allow it to come to that. I’d rather kill for her, over and over, until I’ve annihilated every threat.
Linking our fingers, I turn Sara into my embrace and kiss her, a soft brush of lips that hopefully conveys what I’m feeling, that I’m honored to be the keeper of her soul.
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The elevator comes to a stop, and the doors open. The scent that reaches me tenses my body and leaves my wolves alert, eager, and excited. I ease back, ending our gentle kiss, and look over Sara’s head, meeting the brown eyes of the man who raised me. Jarah’s dark skin is in shadows, hiding his expression, but the force behind his gaze hits me with the intensity I remember so well from my youth.
Jarah slides his gaze from me to Sara. As if she feels his focused study, Sara turns her head. I can’t see her expression from this angle, but she doesn’t stiffen as she had in Dante’s presence. Unlike that moment in her house, Jarah’s not unleashing his inner animals on Sara. I’m grateful for that. The three bears—black, grizzly, and polar—living inside Jarah’s body and soul are not tame, not even close to being tame. They’re pure predators, honed by time to kill.
“I’d hoped I’d gotten in touch with you soon enough to save you.” Jarah reaches forward as the doors close, stopping them with his wide chest, and skims the back of his hand over the tousled locks of Sara’s hair. “It appears I’ve failed. Again. Apparently, I’m not cut out to be a hero. Then again, I always knew playing the role of villain was easier.”
“Jarah.” Sara’s low whisper holds a hint of fear. She steps in front of me as if trying to shield me with her body. “What are you doing here?”
“I felt my child’s pain.” Jarah thumps his balled fist against his chest. “Here. Daegan’s agony radiated outward from here as if it were my own.”
“Daegan’s your son?” Sara’s voice softens, the empathy she holds eradicating any apprehension she might’ve had.
“No more than I am.” I twine our fingers and step next to Sara. Although her attempt to shield me would’ve been useless had I actually faced a physical threat, I can’t help but be warmed by her protectiveness. “Jarah raised Daegan and me, molded us into the men we’ve become, but he’s not our biological father.”
Jarah inclines his head, his focus never straying from Sara. “Technically what Ilan says is true, but the bond of a parent to child isn’t necessarily restricted to blood ties. Wouldn’t you agree, young Sara? It’s one forged out of something deeper. Love, perhaps. I was the one who comforted Ilan and guided him past his fears. I even dried his tears on the few occasions he cried as a child.”
Sara’s grip on my hand firms. She flicks her gaze to me, judging me and this moment. She’s not sure how to take Jarah’s presence here. I can almost see the question in her gaze. Is Jarah a threat?
I stroke my thumb over her skin and lead her from the elevator, placing my body between hers and Jarah’s. While I don’t fear this male who killed my mother for eviscerating my biological father’s human lovers in front of witnesses, I feel Sara’s apprehension. Despite my lack of tension, she’s agitated.
The elevator doors close, leaving the three of us standing in the darkened lobby of the veterinary clinic. Without access codes to the restricted areas, we have to retreat to the first-floor waiting room. The single-shifter female who greeted me promised to return in an hour or so once the human doctor finished with a patient. With some time remaining, we’re left playing the waiting game. Good thing too. I have questions for Jarah.
“Why have you contacted Sara? She’s told me about your call, how you tried to convince her to take Soren and run.”
“Soren. A quite thunderous name.” A warm, full smile spreads over Jarah’s face, his straight, white teeth standing out starkly against his skin. “It pleases me knowing you remembered my stories of the gods.”
“Immortals remember everything.” Including the disappointment in this man who raised me. He failed my protégé by calling for his banishment from the Host.
Jarah inclines his head. “But after a time, selecting those memories from the endless ones clogging our minds can be draining.”
He’s right. I’d ignored the memory of our conversation about true mates until thoughts of Sara had triggered them. “Answer me, Jarah. Why have you tried to lure Sara from me with talk of death? Are you jealous that I found heaven on earth before you?”
Instead of answering, Jarah turns his back on me and makes his way to the hard plastic chairs in the corner of the large open room. Aisles of pet food and a children’s play area block this section of the room from the windows along the front of the clinic. He settles his massive frame on one of the chairs and spreads his hands over his jeans-covered thighs. With scuffed and worn workman’s boots on his big feet and a red flannel partially buttoned over a white undershirt, Jarah fits the image of a local.
Sara lingers near the child-sized plastic kitchen set, complete with fake food and utensils while I take a seat near Jarah. “Has time turned the eldest member of the Host into a coward?”
“Eldest by a few days.” On a slow pivot, Jarah faces me. “And no. However, I have taken a leave from my duties. Connal is acting elder in my absence.”
“I didn’t know such a thing was possible.” Jarah’s commitment to the Host had been unwavering. He’d always felt obligated to weigh in on the many requests for assassinations that came before the Host.
“It wasn’t until I deemed it so.”
As eldest, even if only by a few days, Jarah would have that power. “And you felt it necessary to leave because?”
“This modern world we live in has had a negative effect on the Host, Ilan. Whereas in years past, Connal, Teague, and I have acted as the ruling members, leading the Host, the Shifter Council’s decision to expose our existence to the humans has forced us to modify the way we come to judgments. In order to comply with the agreement reached with the humans—an agreement we had no say in—we were required to become inclusive and allow a representative from each of the single shifter groups to weigh in on all cases.”
“You mean one from each of the subspecies?”
“Yes, even the jaguars, the smallest of groups, has demanded a voice.” Jarah’s brown eyes darken, black flames bleeding into the color. “Connal, Teague, and I are now outnumbered, and while I have the overall power to force my will upon the Host, repeated use of such tactics angers the singles, causing them to form side alliances with each other. They discuss things outside of the chamber hall, planning how they’ll convince the stubborn ancients of their biased versions of the truth.”
“This has made your process harder.” I state the obvious conclusion. The three ancients, firstborn sons of the goddesses, took their roles seriously, forgoing the lure to breed and start their own family lines. Instead, they’ve stolen children along the way to fill their drive to nurture. Jarah told me this once.
Jarah pushes to his feet and flexes his hands. “The Host has turned into a mini version of the Shifter Council. I spend my time settling fights among the members instead of weighing the evidence presented to us. Assignments get handed out I don’t approve of because I must consider whether it’s worth forcing my will upon the group every time they make a poor choice.”
“This is the reason Mya Ammon was marked to die.” Sara grips the top of the toy stove. “Isn’t it?”
Jarah looks over his shoulder at Sara. “Yes. I reasoned she was a single shifter. She’d be reborn. There was no sense fighting for her life.”
Sara’s nostrils flare, and her knuckles turn white. “Then Ilan is a better man than you. He did fight for her.”
“It’s impossible to save everyone. You’ll learn that, young Sara.” Jarah faces me, blatantly dismissing my true mate.
“Maybe that’s why Ilan has been deemed worthy of heaven while you’re still waiting,” Sara responds before I can reprimand Jarah.
With his gaze locked to mine, Jarah nods, but it’s the approving look in his eyes that tells me his opinion of the female chosen to be mine. He takes his seat a second time and stretches his legs out, crossing his ankles and his arms. “Perhaps you are correct. Only time will tell, won’t it?”
“Why are you here, Jarah? You’ve told us of your failings toward Mya and the issues in the Host’s chambers, but neither of those
things answers my question.” And if I’ve learned anything over the past few days, it’s that those who dance around their answers are about to deliver something I won’t like.
“Death is coming for you, my son.”
“So I’ve heard.” From several people, including Molly, the young child leader of her own pride. “For allowing Mya to live. Am I right?”
Jarah doesn’t speak. He stares at me. Nothing shows in his expression.
Oh yes, this is definitely going to be something I don’t like. “Am I right?”
Jarah flicks his gaze to Sara. “Perhaps you’d like to go to the cafeteria downstairs. I was told there’s a fresh pot of coffee.”
“I already had some.” Sara looks to me. “Unless you’d like me to leave for a little while.”
“You choose. I won’t send you away or force you to stay.” The conversation we had not long ago convinced me of this. Sara is capable of deciding what details she wants and what she’d rather allow me to handle.
Sara wets her lips, then hesitantly sits on the farthest chair with her hands folded in her lap.
Jarah shakes his head, obviously disapproving of my choice, but then he meets my eyes. The seriousness in his eyes captures my attention. “You’ve heard of the attempts by some of the single shifters to steal a Royal’s immortality.”
At the expectant pause, I incline my head. Molly, the young female who warned me death was coming, is proof of their attempts. And their success.
“Your alpha has been entered into such an experiment. A different kind from what turned Molly Burnett into a pride leader. Word has it Gabriel’s sacrifice will open endless possibilities for single shifters who seek strength and eternal life. Others whisper that it’ll mark the end of the Royals’ existence or, at the very least, their freedom, turning them into hosts forced to sustain the lives of those singles joined to them.”
