CHAPTER 30
Shaia felt the fear that went through Fuery as he stared at her, conflict reigning in his eyes as the black finally began to abate, leaving a ring of violet around his wide pupils. She waited, on fire with the need blazing in her soul, a need that had ignited the moment he had sunk his fangs into her arm and taken the first sip of her blood.
It wasn’t only the toll of taking on some of his smaller injuries and giving him blood that had her hungry with a need of him though. Part of her ached to taste him again, to have his powerful blood on her tongue, sliding down her throat once more. That part of her mingled with the weakness infesting her, and had her eyes dropping to his throat as her hunger raged fiercer in her veins.
Her hands shook, muscles weak as she thought about blood, craved the taste of him and the strength that would come with it. Gods, she needed to feel that flowing into her to chase away the cold numbness that had seeped into her bones. Fear ran like an undercurrent through her body, whispering words to her that froze her soul and made it stronger.
She was weak.
She needed to feed.
She needed his blood.
Her mate’s blood.
She looked down at the deep slash across her chest and the dark scarlet that had soaked into the bandages across her breasts. Beads of crimson dotted the line, trembling on the brink of falling as she shook with the force of her hunger and her need to survive.
She needed blood.
Was this how Fuery had felt?
She hadn’t considered the consequences of giving Fuery her blood, hadn’t noticed herself weakening as he had taken it in long deep draughts.
Now she was consumed by a need for blood, couldn’t think of anything else as she stared at Fuery, waiting to hear his answer. The hunger grew ravenous, pushing at her and goading her to take what he wouldn’t give her, and she wriggled in his grip, unaware of what she was doing as she fought his hold, her eyes fixed on the pulse ticking in his throat.
“Do not hate me,” he whispered hoarsely, voice thick with the emotions that suddenly swept through her, stealing her breath so she couldn’t answer him.
Never.
His grip loosened, and the part of her that wanted to press him to tell her his fears was crushed by the overwhelming need to sink her fangs into his flesh.
She lunged and struck hard on the left side of his throat as his armour cleared away from it.
Her hands seized his shoulders, fingertips pressing into his muscles as she collided with him.
He didn’t resist.
He welcomed her, cradled her gently in his arms as he banded them around her, and she tried to be gentle with him in return.
The first taste of him had heat boiling through her veins and a single thought singing in her mind, born of the fear she could feel in their bond and knew came from him.
He wasn’t darkness.
He was light that filled her until she was fit to burst, sent her soaring skyward as she desperately pulled on his strong blood that tasted of earth and spice, an absolute ambrosia to her.
She couldn’t stop herself from biting him harder, desperate for more of him as she lost herself in his rich taste and the strength that immediately swept through her veins, sending her head spinning.
He was beautiful as he accepted her savagery, embracing her rather than pushing her away. He grunted with each bite, each fierce pull on his blood, but hissed too, bursts of pleasure that left his lips and had shame sweeping through him in the wake of each one, tinged with fear.
Gods, he didn’t need to be ashamed.
She was lit up too, on fire with need even in her wounded state. She was as coiled tight as he was, the taste of his blood drugging her, sending a warm delicious haze through her that had her melting in his strong arms.
He cradled her, tenderly palming the nape of her neck and holding her to him as he whispered, “You are my forever… my reason for existing… my life… my heart.”
Sweet gods, she loved this male.
Loved him so much she felt she might die in his arms right that second.
She fought her instincts and the hunger running rampant in her veins, and managed to slow her drinking.
A strained groan left his lips.
His fear spiked.
She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, slipped them beneath his arms and then wrapped her arms around him, pressing her palms against his back as she settled herself astride his thighs. The hunger that raged in her began to ease, transforming into a different need as she sucked on the wounds on his throat, taking sips of blood from him, and her head cleared enough that she could pinpoint his feelings in their bond.
She grew aware of something, and it broke her heart.
She needed to be gentle with him, as gentle as he was being with her, because he was fragile, broken in a way. She could see it now and it undid her, had sorrow sweeping through her in response, together with a need to hold on to him and never let go.
He drew her closer and murmured, “I am sorry… I am sorry I did this to you. I should not have.”
That tore at her and she wrenched herself away from him, passion flaring hot in her veins, a need to tell him that he was wrong that only grew stronger as she caught the pain in his eyes.
He thought the sorrow he had felt in her was for herself, because she drank from him.
Because he believed he could taint her.
She cupped his sculpted dirty cheeks in her trembling palms. “I am not sorry. What you felt in me, Fuery… it’s because of what you have been through… how you have suffered… and I was not there for you. I have been living my life oblivious to your pain, your suffering. Gods… I am a monster for that.”
“No,” he croaked and shook his head, his dark eyebrows furrowing as he fiercely gathered her to him, his grip bruising. Desperate. “I am the monster. You must see that now.”
Shaia looked at him when he pushed her back, the link between them wide open, and his face hiding nothing from her, baring all of himself to her.
“All I can see is the male I thought I had lost,” she whispered and brushed her thumbs across his cheeks as he tried to look away from her, keeping his gaze on her. “I see you, Fuery, and I want a second chance at the life we should have had.”
He closed his eyes and tilted his face away from her. “I’m not the male I was back then.”
“I know that.” She feathered her fingers lower and caressed his strong jaw. “I’m not the same either… and I won’t let you slip through my grasp again. I am done being everything society expects of me or my family want for me. I know my mind, and I know my heart… and it belongs to you, Fuery.”
He slowly opened his eyes and looked at her, his expression softening as the darkness faded from it and their bond relayed his feelings to her, easing her fear and lightening her heart as she felt that he believed her.
She focused as she drew her right hand away from his face and he looked down at it just as the silver clasp he had returned to her appeared in it.
He didn’t stop her as she gathered the top half of his hair and closed the clasp over it.
Her hand lingered on it, her body pressed close to his and his breath washing over her face as he stared at her.
“It was a token of my love, Fuery… and that love is the same today as it was all those centuries ago.” She swept her hand down his hair to the nape of his neck and shook her head. “No… that is not true… that love is stronger now. It grows stronger every day, and nothing will stop that. I love you… now and forever… all of you.”
He growled and gathered her to him, one hand pressing hard between her shoulder blades and the other fiercely gripping her nape as his mouth descended on hers.
She relaxed into him, holding him to her as she kissed him back, savouring the desperate way his lips moved across hers, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
She had missed this.
But she would never have to miss it again.
Their love had stood the test of time, and they would triumph over whatever lay ahead of them too, and would seize that future they wanted together.
Someone cleared their throat.
“Guess you don’t really need this now.”
Fuery growled at Hartt as his lips broke away from hers and he gathered her closer still, concealing her body by pressing it hard against his.
“I thought as much, so I brought this too.” Hartt held her cloak out to her.
Fuery was quick to snatch it and wrap it around her as Hartt turned his back to give her some privacy. Her mate’s motions slowed as he looked down at her chest and the dark pink line darting across it, and she felt the fear go through him again. She clutched his hands and squeezed them, bringing him back to her before the darkness could take hold.
“I’ll be sure to keep out of trouble from now on.” She smiled when he lifted his beautiful eyes, filled with worry and love for her, and settled them on hers.
He nodded, his relief flowing through their bond and shifting into another emotion as his eyes darkened. “I will protect you… I will never let anything happen to you. Never again. I swear that.”
She wrapped her arms around him and sealed that promise with a kiss, making her own at the same time, swearing that she would do the same for him. She would always be there for him, to take care of him, to help him in whatever way she could, and if he ever needed her, she had a dagger and knew how to use it.
And perhaps he could teach her how to use a katana too.
The sour look on his face when she pulled back said that he knew her thoughts and it wasn’t going to happen.
She would just have to change his mind.
She fingered his chest, running the pads of them over the small scales of his armour and the patches of exposed skin where it had been cut with an elven blade.
The heat that began to blaze in his eyes said that he wouldn’t take much convincing.
Hartt cleared his throat again.
Fuery tugged at her cloak, holding the side of it nearest Hartt in a way that concealed her body from the elf’s gaze, and looked at his friend.
“Thank you for being here for her,” he said, and then added, “and for me.”
Hartt scrubbed a hand around the back of his neck. “No problem. Just… tell me where you’re going next time so I can help. You don’t have to fight all your battles alone, Fuery.”
Her mate seemed to consider that as he looked between Hartt and her as she finished fastening her tunic as best she could and called her trousers to her, covering her legs.
He nodded.
Hartt held a metal canister out to him. “Now, both of you drink this, or I get elf medicine.”
The face Fuery pulled and the flicker of fear that went through him warned her that elf medicine was not something she wanted to try.
He snatched the canister, unscrewed the cap and shoved it towards her. “Drink.”
She wanted to refuse and make him drink first, but took the container and lifted it to her lips. The blood was cold and tasted sharp, and she shuddered as it slipped down her throat.
“You get used to it.” Fuery looked around as she sipped the blood, dark eyes scouring the fortress, and when they stopped on something, he snapped his fingers and pointed to it.
Hartt tossed him a scowl. “I’m not your dog.”
But he went to fetch whatever it was Fuery wanted anyway, grumbling the whole time. Fuery’s eyes drifted back to her, darkening as he watched her drinking the blood and his hands slipped beneath her cloak to palm her backside where it rested on his legs.
His left hand suddenly shot up beside his head and he glared at Hartt. She lowered the canister from her lips and frowned as Fuery uncurled his hand and revealed the set of steels Hartt had launched at him.
She watched as he nimbly unlocked her remaining cuff, took the set of shackles and eyed them, and then half-smiled as they disappeared together with the steels. He looked quite pleased as he lifted his eyes to meet hers and took the canister from her.
“It’s expensive to get shackles impregnated with such a powerful spell,” he said it casually and then began drinking.
“They could probably hold a dragon,” Hartt chimed in and Fuery nodded enthusiastically. “You know my bond with you means we get to share them.”
Fuery scowled at that. “Some things I don’t share.”
Hartt’s expression remained unreadable as he folded his arms across his chest.
Fuery tossed the canister over his shoulder.
Shaia didn’t get it until he wrapped his arms around her, gathered her to him and growled low in his throat.
Hartt grinned and waved his hand through the air. “I was kidding. She’s not my type.”
A slow smile curved Fuery’s lips. “You mean, elf and female? I thought that was your type?”
Hartt glared at him. “Pushing your luck now. I don’t have to teleport your arse home.”
Shaia wanted to mention that she could probably teleport Fuery back to the guild but held her tongue. This was clearly a standard threat between Hartt and Fuery, in what seemed to be a rather strange but normal round of banter. She had a lot to learn about this new world she was stepping into, one where a procured set of shackles was met with excitement and glee. But then, she supposed finding a set of shackles that could hold a dragon might come in handy for an assassin, and could just save their life.
That had her feeling as enthusiastic about them.
Fuery gripped her waist and helped her onto her feet, setting her down in front of him.
She gasped as he swung her up into his arms a moment later, cradling her against his chest with one arm around her back and the other under her knees, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He stared at her, his black-to-violet eyes beautiful in a way in the morning light as they shone at her, showing her all of his feelings.
“Ready to go?” Hartt said and placed his hand on Fuery’s arm.
Shaia nodded and smiled as she spoke the words in her heart and stared into Fuery’s widening eyes.
“Let’s go home.”