chapter 14
Compelled by a force she could no longer deny, Samantha moved toward Alon until she stood so close she could feel the heat of his skin. Her aura pulled toward his, the smoky gray of his essence already blending with her violet, brown and gold.
She lowered her gaze to find his crystal-blue eyes locked on hers. His jaw muscles bulged as he set his mouth in a grim line. He looked like a man going to war. She swallowed back her fear, pressed down her uncertainty and ignored the warning of danger as she reached for him.
Samantha ran her fingers over the perfection of Alon’s chest, savoring the texture of warm, yielding flesh over taut muscle. His third form, the one he called an illusion, was no illusion. Her fingers danced over his stomach, and his skin twitched as if in pain. His eyes spoke to her, begging her to turn back. But she couldn’t. She glanced down at his sex, jutting toward her. She reached, taking hold of him, measuring the length of him with her two hands. His eyes closed, but not before she saw them change from blue to green.
She knew what it meant. Green was the blending of blue and yellow—his third form struggling to emerge.
His head dropped back and a growl of male yearning tore from his throat. His hands hung at his sides and he stood as if petrified, muscles taut, fully erect in her hands, neither welcoming her touch nor repelling it. He waged a battle against himself, suffering the call of desire and still refusing to yield. The dark clouds gave a gloom to the day, making it easier to see their auras. She glanced up, noting something new. There was a sparkling now, like dust motes dancing in sunlight.
What did it mean?
She needed his touch, yet still he denied her.
The urge to feel his flesh pressing to hers roared inside her. Suddenly the flimsy dress seemed far too confining. Nothing could stand between them now.
Samantha drew her hands reluctantly from his body and stepped back. His eyes snapped open, tracking her every movement. Did he think she had changed her mind? He watched her as if she belonged to him, as if he possessed her already. The intensity of his stare unnerved her.
He didn’t want this. That much was clear from his expression. But it would happen, here and now, regardless of what they wanted. They both knew it because they’d already gone too far. She would satisfy this fascination for the forbidden, and no one need know.
She lifted a hand to the hem of her skirt and concentrated. The sheer fabric vanished in a flash of brilliant light as her clothing reformed into a simple necklace, a gold medicine wheel on a short chain. The wind blew cold over her heated flesh. Alon would warm her.
His gaze swept over her nude form, tracing her curves, lingering on her breasts, diving to stare at her sex.
She wished she were a Mindwalker or a Truth Seeker, so she could read Alon’s thoughts. But he gave her nothing but the obvious excitement of his sex, the resistance of his body and the grave reservations in his eyes.
“Perhaps joining will make the hunger stop.”
He shook his head, denying her childish fantasy that she could be as she was before. No matter what happened here, she would never be the same again. Alon had changed her.
“It will never stop.” His words were like a deadly pronouncement.
She shivered in the rising wind, knowing it was true.
The realization frightened her enough to send her back a step. He captured her wrist. Their eyes met. She resisted, and he imprisoned her other wrist in a move so fast it was only a blur. His nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell in a rapid cadence too fast for a man standing still. His green irises had nearly disappeared, pushed back by the expanding black pupils that now looked like twin solar eclipses. She sucked in a breath.
For just a moment she thought he might use his superior strength to cast her aside. Instead he transferred both her wrists to one large hand.
He tugged her forward, compelling her with his gaze as he scowled down at her. He used his free hand, at the center of her back, to draw her forward until her hips collided with his.
She felt his shaft, now stiff and ready, pressed against her stomach. The desire pumped through her, rocking Samantha on her feet. Yes, she wanted this.
When he spoke, it was through clenched teeth. “I might hurt you.”
“You won’t, Alon. I’m not human. Not fragile. You don’t want me to forget your other form, but you keep forgetting mine. I’m a grizzly, and a damned big one. If that were not enough, I have the power to heal.”
“You’re not only a Skinwalker. You are Spirit Child. They are weak, fragile.”
“I’m not.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“Let’s find out.”
She watched the tug-of-war play out on his features. Was it true? Shadow, sunshine and shadow again. And then she realized she was not only reading his expression. She felt his emotions as if they were her own. Hope. Dread. Acceptance.
She had won.
“Remember that I tried to prevent this.”
He looked the picture of control, but there was wildness in his eyes and fever in his blood. The tight restraint of his body now seemed a coiling preparation. He was a seawall holding back the unstoppable ocean.
He dragged her arms about his neck, encircled her in his inescapable embrace and slanted his mouth to hers. The riotous kiss tipped her from her axis, and Samantha reeled off into space. His fingers coiled in her hair as he took possession of her in a fierce invasion of her mouth, his tongue sliding, stroking as he controlled her.
She leaned over his arm, yielding to his superior strength, allowing his ownership of her as anticipation fluttered inside her.
Samantha gripped his forearms as he lowered her to the earth, and still her head spun. He kissed her throat, her neck and down along the line of her collarbone.
His tongue flicked out as he licked her skin, raising gooseflesh in his wake. The clouds sailed above them, billowing dark, but they did not match the storm within her.
Alon pinned her down with one leg as his hands swept up her torso to caress her aching breasts. She groaned and arched toward the sweet pressure of his skillful hands, her nipples tightening to hard knots in his palms.
He kept his gaze on her as he kneaded the sensitive flesh. She stretched her arms over her head to claw at the ground behind her and bucked her hips.
His mouth covered the tip of one breast, his tongue flicking over the taut nipple, thrilling her with tiny darts of pleasure. Her body had never been so ready, and still he did not take her. She writhed as he pinned her arms to the ground and then made his way leisurely down her belly, his teeth grazing and nipping at the sensitive skin.
He used one strong leg to nudge her thighs apart then took his place there. She opened her eyes to see him, poised between her legs, looking at her exposed flesh. The hunger in his eyes gave her chills. He dived and his lips danced over her sensitive flesh, parting the folds and driving her mad with each swirl of his tongue. Her breath caught in excitement. He grabbed her calves and pressed her legs around his middle. She clamped her ankles across his back, digging her heels into the long, corded muscle as he mouthed her most sensitive flesh.
Her body pulsed and liquid heat made her slick and ready. He bumped against her with his mouth, his tongue entering her in an imitation of the sex act. She gasped and cried out, her skin tingling and her body aching for him to take her.
She needed him inside her. He was big, very big, and she wanted him to drive into her with everything he had.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered, his breath warm against the moisture on her thigh.
He lifted his head. His eyes were a ghostly yellow. Alon grasped her hips and dragged her beneath him. She saw the claws emerging from his hands.
She shivered in alarm and delight.
He knelt between her spread thighs, sliding his hands up her body, finally planting them on each side of her head and extending his arms. He used his knee to spread her legs wider. Samantha pressed her feet flat to the earth and lifted herself to meet him.
He growled and then bucked, sheathing himself fully inside her with one thrust. Samantha gasped at the arousing friction. Even as wet as she was, her body struggled to accommodate him, stretching as he pushed deeper, stopping only when he met the opening of her womb.
His eyes blazed with possession as he withdrew and thrust again. He pumped again and again. His expression might have been need or hatred. The hairs on her neck lifted even as her body reeled with the passion he stirred.
Her climax built, rising so quickly that she cried out in surprise as she clung to him. He delved into her again and again. She was so close. She needed only a few more of those perfect thrusts and...
Alon cried out and for a moment she thought he had come, but this was a different kind of release. This was a fracturing of his control. He grasped her hips and lifted her off the ground, holding her open to each hard thrust. Each slide was a perfect gift, each withdrawal a tiny tragedy. He was rough and she liked it. She closed her eyes to savor this wild joining, her head rolling to the side as the first orgasm burst inside her. A long, tortured cry of release tore from her lips and was met with one of his.
Exquisite waves of delight rolled outward from her core. Samantha threw her hands out, clawing at the earth, panting and shaking her head from side to side as the zing of excitement sped all the way to her fingers and toes. And still he thrust. One hand captured her neck.
His eyes brilliant yellow, his face flushed and his mouth open. Behind him storm clouds swept across the dark sky. She’d never seen anything more beautiful.
His expression seemed one of agony, but she recognized it as just the opposite. His eyelids fluttered closed as he made his final thrust, pinning her to the earth. Something rocked her. It surged with his release and stole her breath. She arched as she experienced the intense pleasure of her contractions like a blow. He held her, controlled her, as his body jerked and pulsed deep inside her. Her eyes widened at this new rush of pleasure. This was not from her. It was his release, but she felt it inside herself, curling her toes and sending her eyes rolling back in her head. The sensation triggered another orgasm, this one a slow, steady roll of liquid pleasure, squeezing him and taking the last he had to offer for her own.
What was that?
She went limp then. Her eyes dropped closed and she breathed deeply of the cold, damp air. The wind still rushed through the treetops as the storm closed in. Yet she could not recall when she had felt more relaxed, content and replete. His warm body kept off the chill.
Something glowed above them. At first she thought it was blowing debris from the impending storm. But then her vision came into focus and she recognized her aura and Alon’s merging, her violet, brown and gold turning his gray into a rich maroon glow.
Cesar had been right. There was no denying it now. Her wild, wonderful tumble with Alon had not broken the connection. It had fused it. She stared up in horror at her soul mate and saw her horror reflected back in his eyes.
* * *
Alon rolled to his back beside her. She roused enough to reach for his hand. When she clasped it, a wave of anguish punched her in the gut. She released him and the feeling ebbed.
That was his emotion. He despaired over their joining, as if it were the most tragic occurrence in the world.
Was it? A mistake, surely. She blinked up at the angry sky. The treetops swayed and the cold wind held the scent of rain.
Their connection had increased. She saw it. But Alon felt it and it grieved him. She turned her worried eyes upon him.
“Do you know what could result from this union? You could be pregnant. Is the alliance really worth your death?” he asked in a flat, defeated tone that prickled a warning on her skin.
Of all the worries, that one had never crossed her mind. She feared the connection might grow stronger. She feared her parents might find out. But she had not thought of an unplanned pregnancy. Samantha recalled all that he had told her about how Naginoka were born, and a shiver shook her.
“It’s unlikely. And if it happens, I’m a healer. I’m a Halfling. Surely I can survive it.”
“A gamble, then. The alliance against the chance you might die. Is that how you framed it?” He lifted up on one elbow and scowled at her.
“I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted.”
“Yes. And you got it. Here in the woods where no one need know. Secret, private. Did I scratch that itch, Samantha, or only make it more insistent?”
She looked away.
He used both hands to sweep the hair from his face and then laced his fingers behind his head. The lust had cooled now and the regrets poured in, filling him up like a cistern.
Shame burned against the first icy drops of rain. “Do you know how it feels to know you slept with me only out of duty to your family and your alliance?”
Her hand slid away and she stared at him but not before he felt her self-reproach. Guilt, he felt the emotion flash from her to him. She’d sacrificed herself to the big bad wolf. There was some honor in that.
“I won’t tell anyone, Samantha. The truth is I already decided to fight Nagi. Fighting is the only way for my siblings to have any chance of peace. So it was all for nothing. You didn’t need to sleep with me. I should have told you instead of taking what you offered.”
Her eyes were wide and glassy, as if the truth might bring her to tears. His pride stung too much to comfort her, and he knew if he touched her now they might just do that again. He wanted to. Wanted her.
“I didn’t do it for the alliance. I mean, I want you to fight with us, but I did it because... Oh, Alon, I can see our auras. I can see them. And...and we’re soul mates.” She blew out a breath as if relieved to get the words out.
Was she crazy? He stared in silence, waiting for the punch line, for surely this must be some kind of joke. But she said nothing more. The droplets pattered on her dark head and washed the tears from her cheeks. To the north a heavy curtain of rain approached.
He drew her up and led her to the relative shelter of the trees as the sky opened and water poured down.
Alon stopped under the outstretched branches of a large cedar tree and turned to Samantha. She trembled and he resisted the urge to draw her into the heat of his embrace. Instead he faced her head-on.
“Was that a joke?”
“No. It’s true.”
“I’m not your soul mate, Samantha.”
“But our auras...”
“Trust me. It’s some kind of trick, like this face and form.” He swept a hand over his body. “I can’t be your soul mate, Samantha.”
Her brow knit in confusion. “You can’t?”
“No. It’s not possible.”
She pulled her cloak more tightly about her shoulders and hunched against the rain that trickled from the bough above them. “I was so certain.”
“You should have asked me first. Sleeping with me was a terrible mistake.”
The rain soaked him, plastering his hair to his head and making his skin slippery. He didn’t feel the chill but noted Samantha shivering. Somehow he thought she wasn’t cold either, at least not on the outside. She stared up at him with wide, earnest eyes, and he felt his resolve weaken.
“It didn’t feel like a mistake.”
“It was. It was my job to protect you. Your family gave you to the Thunderbirds, and they gave you to me. But I failed.”
“You didn’t. I’m alive because of you.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He read the concern in that touch.
He curled his fingers into fists as the weight of responsibility pressed down.
“With or without the other Halflings, the Ghost Children will battle, for we fight for our lives.”
Her hand slid down his arm. “Will you come with me?”
“I said I would fight. I did not say we would join your alliance. Even if I did agree, they will not accept our help.”
She stared up at him, fearing he was right. Hoping he was wrong.
Alon drew a long breath and then let it go. “Is this what you wish?”
She nodded.
“Then for you I will go.”
She bowed her head and he felt her relief wash through him, sweet and clear. He sighed, knowing he had more to tell her.
“I do not expect to survive this war, and Nagi will certainly not let you or the other Seers live. The choice will be only how we die.”
He had a choice. But by sleeping with Samantha he might have stolen hers. Naginoka grew quickly. Only three months after conception they emerged from their mothers.
He didn’t know which was worse: knowing that she might die in battle or knowing that she might die bringing his children.
* * *
Alon did all the talking. He spoke to his siblings, he spoke to his parents and finally he spoke to her. There was a formality in his voice that deadened her heart, as if what had happened by that riverside had only driven them further apart.
“My father’s jet is waiting to take us to Blake,” he said. “After we see your brother, I will bring you to your father.”
Samantha’s throat went dry as she realized that her brother and Alon would soon meet. Believing with all her heart that the Ghost Children must be included in the alliance was one thing. Trying to convince her family was quite another. She knew what they thought about Nagi’s offspring, for she had once felt the same. The prospect of their next meeting filled her with dread.
Alon narrowed his eyes at her. “Have you changed your mind, then?”
“No.” Her reply was too quick, too angry and too defensive.
He snorted.
“Did you tell your parents what happened between us?” she asked.
That brought him up short.
“No. I saw no reason to worry them further.” Alon rubbed his neck as if it hurt. “But my father seemed to sense something.”
His aura, Samantha realized. The storm had rolled past and dusk had crept in. The conditions were perfect to see auras. Had his father recognized the changes there?
“My parents will bring the others south because that is where your father is amassing the Skinwalkers. They are waiting to say their goodbyes. Are you ready?”
She nodded and they made their way to the truck through the muddy field. She walked stiffly beside him, out of sync now with his stride and his thoughts.
The open field was filled with Ghostling twins, all silent and serious. Most were dressed and in human form. But not the young ones. They stared out at Alon and Samantha with yellow golf-ball eyes, popping their jaws in distress. When she next saw them it would be on the battlefield. A shiver lifted the hairs on her neck. What would become of them all?
Samantha glanced to his parents, who waited beside the truck, standing with their hands looped about each other’s waist. Cesar and Bess seemed so comfortable together, so much in love. Above them, their auras blended and glowed.
Could they feel each other’s emotions, as well?
Samantha recalled experiencing Alon’s pleasure and how it increased her own.
“Safe journey, Night Sky Woman,” said Bess, and she kissed Samantha on both cheeks.
Cesar gave her a hug. He took the opportunity to whisper to her. “Stay with him. You both need each other now more than ever.”
She drew back, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. She belonged with her own kind. Didn’t she?
Or did she belong with her soul mate?
She looked to the truck, where Alon waited silently, hands gripping the wheel. He’d never looked more forbidding or more unhappy. Was that what this connection would bring them, duty and obligation instead of love?
Cesar and Bess saw them out and waved them away as they left the camp area and headed toward the closest airfield, where Cesar had sent one of his jets to meet them and fly them to Atlanta, Georgia. Her brother had finished up in Scottsdale, Arizona, with the Southwestern Council and was now off to persuade the Southeastern Territory to join the alliance.
Alon did not speak to her during the drive, but his aura continued to reach toward hers until the interior of the cab glowed with a soft maroon light. Samantha folded her arms across her chest and sighed. It didn’t feel like a trick.
The silence rang like a bell and filled the interior like heavy smoke. At the airfield they boarded the Falcon 900 and strapped themselves in.
Private jets were necessary for Cesar as he could not fly like his wife and children. Living a century made such luxuries possible and, according to her father, Alon’s dad was a genius at growing money. Both his parents had life expectancies of three to four hundred years, barring accidents. But Alon was the first of his kind. How long would he live?
Alon closed his eyes and dozed. His sleep was restless and full of the scent of the woman at his side. He knew what kind of a reception awaited them, and still he went because she wished it. Finally the dreams ceased and he slept deeply.
A female voice came from behind them. “Mr. Garza. Final descent.”
Samantha shifted, lifting her head from his shoulder and releasing his arm. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“I wonder what kind of a welcome my brother will give us?”
He knew. “I only know that without us they will lose.”
“Do you think Aldara has reached him yet?”
He had told her that he had sent bodyguards to her mother and his sister to Blake. He could not gauge if she was pleased or worried. Perhaps both, he mused.
“She’s with him.”
Samantha sat back in her seat as the engines roared, but he could hear her say, “I wonder how that’s going.”
“As well as our visit will go.”
Samantha’s brow furrowed.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“More than I have ever been about anything in this world. I know the alliance needs you. We just have to convince them.”
Alon wondered what it would be like to have a woman as brave and idealistic as Samantha forever at his side. When he was with her, he almost forgot what he was. He would be wise to recall that it was common interest that bound them and not love.
He stilled, recognizing what had happened with a rising sense of dread. Samantha did not love him, but against all his better judgment and best instincts, he had somehow fallen in love with her. How pathetic.
Alon’s head dropped back against the high headrest as his eyes closed. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying to control the panic bubbling up inside him like poison.
“Something wrong?” she asked, resting a hand over his and then quickly drawing it back as if scalded. What emotion had she read—his panic?
Oh, yes. Something was very badly wrong. Because he was either going to tell her the truth and watch her laugh in his face, or he was going to hide his love for her so deep in his heart he would never have to face the inevitable rejection.
“Alon?” she asked. “Are you ill?”
“Halflings don’t get ill. You know that.” But he felt ill. His skin went clammy and his stomach seemed to be knotted around his pounding heart like a python after a capybara.
“But you’ve gone pale.”
“I’m always pale,” he said impatiently. “I was thinking of the battle. Anxious for the fighting to start.” He swung his gaze to hers and then let it bounce away again, unable to hold on.
“That isn’t it. Tell me.”
He wouldn’t. Not ever. There was nothing so pathetic or cliché as his love for her.
She wasn’t giving up. He knew her well enough to know when she dug in her heels.
“All right, then. I’m worried that you might be with child.”
Her hands instinctively went to her middle, and for reasons he could not even begin to fathom, she smiled.
“If you are, I’ll stay until your time comes. If not, I will go as soon as we have defeated Nagi.” As if they could. He used his thumb and index finger to rub his tired eyes.
“Go? Go where?” Confusion wrinkled her brow.
“I promised to protect you, Samantha, until this is done. That time draws near. With it comes the breaking of our ties.”
“But I thought... That is...” She stopped, clamping her mouth closed.
“You should be happy to be rid of me. We both know you only needed a protector. I’m willing to be that. The world needs Seers more than it needs one more Toe Tagger. When this is over you can stop pretending this is something more than what it is.”
She drew her hand back and her eyes went as cold as obsidian. “And what is it exactly?”
He stared her down, but she held on, tenacious as a bear after a beehive.
“This again! Alon, I did not sleep with you as a way to get you to join my dad.”
“No?”
“If you believe that, then you have a thicker skull than I do. When can we get off this plane?” She unclasped her belt and threw the two pieces in opposite directions. Then she stood, casting him a withering glare, and strode toward the back of the cabin.
When they touched down, she still hadn’t returned. Only when the outer hatch was opened did she appear to try to walk past him to the door.
He clasped her arm, bringing her about.
“You’re such an ass, Alon.”
“You’ll tell me if you’re carrying our children.”
She pushed him off with one hand. He allowed it.
“What will that matter if we all die in battle?”
Her words cut his heart like a razor blade. He couldn’t let her die. Somehow he had to keep Samantha alive.
He watched her walk away, trying to convince himself that this was best. This way, at least, he retained his dignity and his autonomy. This way he... Alon sighed. He’d rather face Nagi’s army single-handed than her scorn. And that was what surely awaited him if he had told her he loved her.