Desire Unchained

“Chill, ’kay? I’ll fill you and Eidolon in on everything when I get there.” He hung up before Wraith could argue and slipped out the hidden side entrance between the living room and kitchen. Immediately, a warm breeze wrapped around him like a lover’s embrace—the only kind he’d ever truly allowed.

The exit took him to a flat, well-concealed stone platform behind the waterfall. He’d never brought any of his sex partners out here, but he wanted Runa to see his favorite spot in the world. Runa, who was naked in his shower. Shade’s skin grew hot, so hot that the fine, cooling mist from the pounding water did nothing to ease the burn.

Sucking in a breath and a curse, he stepped fully into the waterfall. Water crashed over him, washing away the grime from the dungeon, but it couldn’t scour away the darkness in his soul or the pain of losing Skulk.

His little sister had been the one beacon of light in his life, the soft to his hard. She’d been gifted with the Umber ability to see darkness inside anyone, had possessed the power to lessen or even remove it with a touch. That she couldn’t heal Shade, couldn’t come close to removing the darkness inside him had been a constant source of worry for her, but she’d been convinced that both his curse and the regret surrounding it could eventually be banished.

She’d been wrong about Shade, but right about Roag.

“There’s so much evil in him, Paleshadow,” she’d told Shade once, using the nickname he’d never hear again. With his tan skin, he’d stood out among his twenty sisters, all of whom were purebred Umbers, with cement-gray coloring, charcoal hair, and gunmetal eyes. He’d been the firstborn—a product of his father’s rape of his mother when she was barely out of puberty—and ten years older than the oldest sister. Umbers were extremely gentle and maternal, so he’d been treated as well as his sisters. As the eldest, it had been Shade’s responsibility to care for them. To keep them safe.

He’d failed miserably.

His mother had left him in charge while she went hunting, something that often took days. While she was gone, he’d been struck by his first maturation cycle, had left his sisters alone to satisfy his sexual urges, and when he’d returned to the cave, he’d come upon a slaughter. Khilesh devils in search of a meal had targeted the unprotected den, and it had been clear that even after they’d filled their bellies, they’d continued to kill. Skulk had been the only survivor, had escaped death by hiding inside a narrow cave shaft that was her favorite spot during their games of hide-and-seek.

Shade closed his eyes and turned his face up, hoped the water would pound him until he was numb, but he knew it wouldn’t help. Nothing helped. He’d hunted down the Khileshis, but even their deaths hadn’t helped. His remorse over what had happened was something that ate at him like acid, and it didn’t matter that he’d left his siblings during a period of madness. Hell, he barely remembered leaving the cave. Barely remembered the days of nonstop sex that followed.

And yet, neither Skulk nor his mother had blamed him. It had been their love and comfort that made him want a family of his own, sons he could raise with a mate he loved.

Thanks to his curse, that wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen.

Shaking off the thoughts that were taking him down a well-worn path he didn’t want to walk today, he stepped out of the water and strode into the cave. Runa was in the kitchen, wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of drawstring boxer shorts she must have cinched to the limit at the waist. The shirt dwarfed her, fell to midthigh but didn’t cover nearly enough.

“I found some soda in the fridge,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Help yourself to whatever you want.” He slipped past her to get to the bedroom, where he changed into leather pants, a tank top, and boots. When he finished, he was surprised to find Runa standing in the doorway.

“I want to know what all this is,” she demanded, her eyes full of that new stubbornness he wanted to hate, but admired no matter how hard he tried not to.

“I’d think it would be obvious.”

“You never … you never used anything like this with me.”

An image of Runa spread-eagled on his St. Andrews Cross and at his mercy licked at him, and his pulse pumped in an erratic rhythm. He might hate the room and everything in it, but only because he had to use it. Wanting to use it was a different thing entirely.

“No, but I wasn’t the gentlest lover, was I?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze dropped to her bare feet. “I don’t have much basis for comparison. There was just that one guy before you …”

Something caught tight in his chest. He forced himself to inhale and exhale because he really needed to stay upright and a sudden lack of oxygen, combined with what she’d just said, would put him on his lid right now.

“You haven’t been with anyone since me?”

Her brows framed a fierce glare. “I’ve been a little busy, what with being a werewolf and all.”

A fierce, possessive instinct surged through him, swelling him with pride, swelling other parts with arousal. Mine. Only mine.