chapter TWENTY
ELIN SAT UP with a jolt. Disoriented, she scanned her surroundings. Spacious bedroom, barren walls. A window with bright morning light slanting through. Very little furniture. A bed—empty, except for her.
Thane’s room. One he’d never shared with another female. And apparently hadn’t actually shared with her. Where was he?
Memories of her drunken behavior came back in a rush, and she groaned, burying her head in her hands. She’d asked Thane to be her lover, and he’d agreed. Hadn’t he? But then, he’d left her, saying he refused to take her, anger clearly riding him.
Did he still want her?
Maybe not. Did she still want him?
She pictured his smoldering eyes and his wicked smile. Those glorious wings. Those smoking-hot abs. The jumbotron.
And she didn’t have to rack her brain for his other admirable attributes. Strength. Sweetness that seemed to be reserved for her, and her alone. Intelligence. Resourcefulness. Protective instincts. A vulnerability he tried to hide but couldn’t. A fierce savagery both on and off the battlefield.
So, did she really need to think about it? No.
Elin still wanted Thane. Badly.
Determined to find him, she threw her legs over the mattress and stood. Steadiness wasn’t a problem. Not once, in all of her years, had she ever experienced a hangover. No matter how much she’d drunk. Besides a slight twinge in her temples, she was fine today, too. She padded to the bathroom, where she planned to wash away last night’s funk, and stripped. Thane must have anticipated her needs because he’d left a toothbrush, soaps, and toiletries, as well as clean clothing he must have taken from her room.
Had he personally picked the items or had he sent someone else to do it?
After a quick shower and blow-dry, she tugged on the clothes. A white T-shirt, paired with hip-hugging jeans and a matching bra-and-panty set. In red, with peekaboo lace. Well, she now had the answer to her question. Thane had picked. The bright color of the bra showed through the shirt, something a man wouldn’t have considered. Or maybe he’d chosen accordingly, for that exact reason.
“Why did you dress?”
The smoky voice came from behind her. Blood heating, she whipped around. Her heart almost stopped. Thane stood in the doorway, a tower of beauty and menace— Wait, menace? Yes, she realized. A fire blazed in his eyes, evidence of a ruffled temper.
She wasn’t afraid.
His beautiful white-and-gold wings were tucked into his back, a glimmering robe draping his muscled frame. His blond curls stuck out in spikes, as if he’d plowed his hands through again and again.
“You...” she said, tremors of desire laying siege to her. “The outfit was—”
“For later. After.”
Her heart sped into a too-fast beat. “But you refused me last night.”
“You were drunk, and that’s not the way I want you. Strip,” he ordered softly.
Sweet fancy. He wasn’t worked into a temper. He seethed with sexual need.
But...but...this was happening now? “I,” she began, unsure what she planned to say.
Apparently that was enough. He stalked toward her, every inch the predator. For once, she was happy to be the prey. His mouth crashed against hers, his tongue thrusting inside with a savage intensity that took her from simmer to boil in a single heartbeat.
Her mind tried to play catch-up with her body. Yes, this was happening. No, they weren’t going to stop this time. They were going all the way. It was going to be wild, earthy, and animalistic.
“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, and I won’t.” He nipped his way to her neck, his breath warm and his tongue hot. “But I can’t give you gentle, Elin. Not this time. I’m too desperate. I’ve waited too long. For weeks I’ve thought about how I’ll take you, how you’ll feel and look and sound. And last night was the worst. Or the best. I need to be inside you.” As he spoke, he walked forward, urging her backward until she hit the bathroom wall.
Brick behind her, a mountain of muscle in front.
“I don’t want gentle.” She wound her arms around him, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I just want you.”
“Then you’ll have me.” He ripped at the waist of her jeans. Down went the denim. “Step out of them.”
Cool air stroked her skin as she obeyed.
A man on a mission, he straightened and yanked the shirt over her head. With a few flicks of his wrist, he had a thick hunk of her hair wrapped around his fist, tilting her head. He claimed her lips.
She suspected his control tugged at a very thin leash. Never had he dominated her quite so intently, but she found that she didn’t mind. Actually enjoyed it. Beyond enjoyed. Tension coiled deep in her belly, ready to spring at any moment.
“Thane,” she gasped, and when he bit softly at her, another bolt of pleasure shot through her.
How can you enjoy this? How can you betray Bay?
Surprise had her wrenching away from Thane’s kiss. Guilt tried to flood her, but she resisted. Where had those thoughts come from? “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just...”
He cupped her jaw. “Look at me, kulta.”
Struggling to catch her breath, she met his gaze. Desire had sharpened his features, hooded his eyes and reddened his kiss-swollen lips. “It’s just you and me. Here and now. This moment.”
That’s right. There wasn’t room for unwanted emotions.
“There you are,” he said, and lowered his head. This time, despite his warning, despite her claim to want otherwise, he was gentle, easing her into the passion. His tongue rolled against hers, tasting her, taming her. She melted against him, bones suddenly soft and liquid.
“Who are you with?” he asked.
“You. Thane.”
“That’s right.”
She traced her fingers over the arch of his wings. He tilted the tips toward her and stroked her calves. Tantalizing her. Making her ache. Need overwhelmed her. Goose bumps broke out over her skin.
He cupped her breasts, kneaded. Her nipples beaded as he swiped them with the pads of his thumbs.
“Thane.” The lazy seduction was almost more than she could bear. “Take off the robe. I have to have skin against skin.”
Her urgency must have been contagious; he responded quickly, jerking at the collar of the robe. The material gaped from his body and whooshed to the floor, leaving him completely bare.
Oh, bless me. He was utterly magnificent. The ripples and cords of muscle were bronzed to perfection. The majestic width of his shoulders made her feel sheltered, protected. And his shaft wasn’t just pierced in one place, she realized with amazement, but twelve places. Silver bars formed a glorious line from head to base.
“You’re not going to fit,” she rasped, and almost grinned. Almost.
“I’ll fit,” he said, determined.
* * *
THANE BASKED IN the admiration and awe shining in Elin’s eyes, and in the reverential thoughts he could hear. Magnificent. Perfection. Majestic. Glorious.
Only a few heated whispers separated them as he met her perusal with his own. Her beauty never failed to astound him, but it wasn’t what fed his desire. It was her. All that she was. His need no longer revolved around what, but who. He needed her touch. Her taste. Her breathy moans. Her heat. Her wet. Her...everything.
The Phoenix king kicked the seat across from him, a command for Thane to sit.
Orders? In my own house? No. Thane crossed his arms over his chest. “Anything else?”
Ardeo shrugged, drained the few droplets in the glass, and stood. Swayed. “I spoke to a mutual acquaintance of ours,” he said, the words slurred. He patted Thane on the shoulder. “He sends his regards.”
A sharp pain cut through Thane’s stomach. Literally.
His brow furrowed with confusion as he glanced down. A blade had been shoved all the way to his spine.
Ardeo removed it, blood coating his hand. “My apologies. Malice said he would bring Malta back if I weakened you. Whatever the price, I have to have her back.” The blade clattered to the floor.
Thane stumbled back, clutching the wound to stem the flow of blood.
Adrian rushed over to block the only exit and await orders.
“Fallen angels lie,” Thane gritted to the king.
Expression sad, Ardeo nodded. “I know. But I was willing to risk it.”
“Then bear the consequences. Do it,” Thane commanded Adrian.
In a blink, the berserker seemed to grow and expand several inches. The color of his face changed, from bronzed to almost crimson. His eyes darkened to black, overtaking even the whites. He moved so fast, he was nothing more than a blur. One moment the king had four limbs and a head, the next...he didn’t.
Blood sprayed from opened arteries. The pieces and the torso thumped to the floor.
Adrian returned to his spot, his heavy panting the only evidence that he’d been the one to strike.
With a shaky hand, Thane reached into his air pocket for the vial of Water. Gone. With Bjorn. Can’t ever regret that. But now he wouldn’t heal nearly as fast.
“Lock the king’s parts in the dungeon, just in case he regenerates. Then take however long you need to calm.”
Adrian’s nod was clipped. He carried the pieces out of the room.
Thane, Elin shouted inside his head. He’s here. Orson is here.
Ignoring his pain, his weakness, he darted in the air, leaving the natural realm for the spiritual and misting through the walls. I’m coming, kulta.
I’m in your bedroom, not mine.
I’m almost there. He reached the top floor, stumbling as he landed. Demons swarmed the entire area, blocking him from the entrance to his room. Xerxes and a fully healed Bjorn were in the sitting area, fighting for their lives.
The blood of demons splattered the walls. Gnarled limbs littered the floor.
Thane summoned a sword of fire and pushed forward, hacking at the enemy along the way. But the more he fought, the less he could ignore the weakness caused by the gash. He was slower than usual, and several demons were able to swipe him with claws. Soon, his lack of speed allowed gleeful opponents to trap him in an ever-tightening circle, unable to gain any new ground and get to Elin.
He remembered Orson and his twisted desire for her. Desperation and fear, coupled with the wildest rage of his life, flooded him.
Hold him off, Elin, he commanded. I’ve been delayed. Do whatever you have to do to survive. Do you hear me?
There was no reply.
He wanted to command a response from her, but didn’t want to distract her. As he debated what to do, a demon scratched at him. He sliced through the offending arm. As the limb fell, another creature reached for him, poking at his injury and laughing. Thane cringed. But still he fought with all his might, willing to endure anything to reach his woman.
* * *
ELIN HADN’T STAYED in her bedroom. She’d crossed the bathroom in secret and camped inside Thane’s, knowing he would be fragile after dealing with Bjorn. She’d been determined to wait for him, no matter how long it took. She would comfort him and give him whatever he needed, even if he didn’t know he needed it.
The first thing she’d done was stretch out on the bed, and read the copy of Dodge Boulder: A True Alpha Dog Story Bellorie had loaned her. But she must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, a hard hand had settled on her shoulder and was shaking her, rattling her brain against her skull. Her eyelids had popped open—and Orson’s smug, smiling face had come into view.
Now she scrambled to the other side of the bed.
The warrior laughed as he withdrew a small dagger. “Your reaction cuts to the quick, girl. It truly does.”
Thane expected her to hold him off, and she didn’t have to wonder why. It sounded like World War III beyond the door.
“Stay away from me,” she spat at Orson.
“Or what? You’ll call me a terrible name?” Smiling evilly, he looked around the room. His every action was unhurried, as if he knew a secret she didn’t. “I see you’ve made yourself at home here with the Sent One. And you’re warming his bed, too, despite his reputation for cutting and running after only one night. What must you be doing to please him?”
“You’ll never know.” This male had taunted her for an entire year. A few times, he’d yanked her into a darkened corner and kissed her, squeezing her breasts and promising—threatening—to do more. Her fear of him had been absolute. But no longer. For the first time, she would fight back.
“Want to bet?” Quick as a blink, he dived across the bed in a bid to grab her.
Prepared for such a move, she darted out of the way and rushed to the dresser where she’d stored a few weapons she’d found in the treasure room, hoping to surprise Thane. She grabbed the first thing she touched in the top drawer. A pair of gold knuckles. Suckwad! But, okay, fine. They’d have to do.
Hot air brushed her back. Orson was closing in. No time to waste. She turned and swung, nailing him in the cheek. The bone instantly cracked—and the gold knuckles did something she wasn’t expecting. On impact, they released sharp, motorized spikes, slashing through the cracks in the bone.
Roaring, Orson batted at her. His fist collided with her skull, and though she saw stars, she held on. He tried to jerk away from her, but the motions only increased the speed of the spikes, one digging so deep and so far up it... Gah! Thank the Most High she’d been inoculated against violence. Orson’s eye popped from his head and rolled to the floor, and all he could do was watch with the other one, horrified.
Elin slid her fingers from the gold knuckles, but still the weapon remained attached to his face.
“You little whore!” He swung a meaty fist at her.
Oh, the pain! There was another explosion of stars across her vision as the taste of copper coated her tongue and caused her stomach to flip-flop.
Took worse hits at the last dodge-boulder practice. The knowledge empowered her. Grinning coldly, she climbed to her feet. Surprised, Orson glared at her with his one good eye.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” she taunted. “Because I’m suddenly wondering why I feared you at all.”
Huffing and puffing with indignation, he stomped toward her. Again, he swung a fist. This time she was prepared and went low, avoiding impact. As she came up, she slid her fingers back through the golden knuckles and jerked with all of her might. Bone and metal finally separated.
He grunted, spittle dripping from his mouth. Then he punched her in the stomach. Air abandoned her lungs, and she hunched over. A vulnerable position. One he used to his advantage, hitting the back of her head. She collapsed to her knees, gagging as acid raced up her throat.
“Yield to me.”
Not now, not ever. Elin crawled to her hands and knees and swung up a fist, smashing the golden knuckles into his crotch.
His high-pitched squeal rang out. Stumbling backward, he yanked at the spikes now embedded in his scrotum. The backs of his knees caught on the mattress and he fell.
She swiped up the dagger he dropped, and without pausing to consider her actions, or what her feelings would be when everything was said and done, she stabbed him in the stomach, once, twice, three times. Blood spurted. Warm blood. Warm blood all over her hands.
She staggered away from him.
As he lay panting, dying, he glared over at her. “I’ll come back,” he choked out. “I’ll come back and repay the favor. You have my word. Only, I’ll make you watch me kill your lover first.”
Teeth bared in a scowl, she waved the dagger at him. “If you think you’re tougher than Thane, you’re dumber than you look. And trust me. You look dumber than a box of rocks. Now, I’ll leave you to your death.” She opened the door, intending to go out and help Thane however she could.
A horde of demons shoved their way inside the room, pushing her aside.
The creatures converged on Orson, as if they’d scented his blood and nothing else would suffice. They began eating his flesh...muscle...bone. He fought as best he could, but as weak as he was, it did him no good. He lost his other eye. He lost his throat, his heart, his intestines.
He became an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Breath wheezed through her nose. Elin knew Orson would never regenerate. Not from this.
When there was nothing but Orson’s spleen—not as tasty?—glowing red eyes lifted and focused on Elin...
Heart drumming erratically, she backed away slowly. “I’m sour. Probably bitter. I suggest you wait for someone sweet,” she said. “It’ll be better for your digestion. Honest.”
The creatures advanced on her.