CHAPTER 12
N ikki sat on the edge of the bed and slid her fingers over the comforter. The silky material teased the pads on her fingers. After her bath, she’d retired to her room. The bed had called to her, beckoning with its comforting appeal. A nap had done her wonders.
An itch flared on her palm. With more vigor than necessary, she scratched her nails across the irritated flesh. The marking was darker and in the definite shape of the letter ‘M.’
A shot of adrenaline infused with a mixture of fear, frustration, and unease propelled her from her resting place. She paced to the small table with its two matching chairs and wrapped her fingers around the back of one. How she wished this were all some sort of bizarre dream, but after all she’d seen and learned over the past two days, it was real, every bit of it.
A rap on the door, once, twice, three times, echoed through the room. She peered at the worn wooden door, the top curved to match the rough-cut stone frame. Gaetan?
Her pulse skyrocketed. She blew out a quick breath and headed across the smooth stone floor. As she opened the door, the hinge issued a loud squeak.
“Hello, Nicole.” Gaetan stood in the doorway, one hand wrapped around his cane, the other pressed against the frame. The muscles in his shoulders bulged under his thin short-sleeved shirt. From under the edge, a long, dark line travelled over his taut bicep, down his thick forearm, and split into four lines that ran along the back of his large hand.
An overwhelming urge swept over her. She wanted to run her fingers over the taut cords and feel his strength beneath her touch. Instead, she curled her hands around her middle.
Gaetan cleared his throat. His pale blue eyes sparkled with flecks of gold. It would be easy to fall into their beautiful and mesmerizing depths. “Nicole, Sheri indicated I should stop by. May I come in?”
“Oh, of course.” Nikki stepped aside. “But please, most people call me Nikki.”
As he passed, the scent of tarragon eased into her senses, filling her with his warm scent. There was something in his quiet demeanor that grounded her, and she gravitated to him like a planet around a sun.
He smiled. “I rather like the sound of your given name. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to call you Nicole.”
“Uh, sure.” Heat raced across her cheeks. Damn him, he had her flustered already. She closed the door, the hinge protesting once again.
He motioned to the squeaky metal plate. “I’ll tell Jax about the noise. He’ll have one of the Jixies repair that in no time.”
“Thank you. You’ve been very kind.” She studied his features for a long moment. The gray in his hair accentuated the blue in his eyes. She swallowed hard. “Bet told me about Anlon. I’m sure you’re worried.”
“I am—” He winced. His fingers tightened around his cane, turning white with strain. One of the faint lines on the back of his hand lightened.
She gasped and touched her throat. “Why is your tattoo getting lighter?”
“Craya…” He wiped his palm over his face. “It’s not a tattoo, but a damned curse.”
The desire to understand him a bit more urged her on. “Please, tell me.”
He held out his hand, studying the lines. “At birth, all Stiyaha males receive a mark that represents their core values.”
“What are yours?”
Slow and deliberate, he touched each knuckle in his right hand starting with his index finger and ending with his pinkie. “Responsibility, benevolence, empathy, and patience.”
She took a tentative step toward him. “Why did the line fade just now?”
A tic pulsed to life in his jaw, tightening his handsome face. “If the male doesn’t honor the values, his mark will fade until it disappears, and…”
“What happens then?” she whispered.
“You don’t want to know—” He inhaled and leaned on his cane.
A wave of empathy had her moving to him in an instant. She trailed her hand down his arm and over the thick, black line. The mark was smooth, soft, and tickled her fingers. “What’s wrong?”
Anguish and torment radiated in his pale blue eyes. “I’m fine. I just need…my medicine.”
She released her hold on him, despite the ache growing in her chest.
With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a beautiful blue stone. The sunstones lining her bedroom walls flared to life, reflecting off the crystal in his palm.
“Craya.” He shoved the gem back where it came from and withdrew a small satchel. Fingers shaking, he popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed. The tension in his shoulders eased. “Forgive me. I’m not…” He exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps another male would better suit your needs.”
A chill swept along her arms. The last thing she wanted was another male. “But I thought you came here to…”
He strode toward the door, the tapping of his cane loud in the small room. “I’ll ask Saar to find—”
She gripped his arm, stopping him. “Please, I don’t want another male. I want you.”
He peered over his shoulder, studying her. “Why would you want an old, broken-down male like me? You should feed from a strong warrior.”
“Because you saved me.” Her lip quivered, so she bit it.
His gaze riveted there, and the beautiful gold flecks in his eyes swirled in the aquamarine once again. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
The tension between them turned dark and sensual. Beneath her blouse, her nipples peaked. “I trust you.”
A low growl emerged from him, deep and possessive. He gripped her arm, flipped her around, and pinned her against the door.
She squealed at the sudden movement, but he hadn’t hurt her. On the contrary, he cradled her in his arm, sequestered between the door and his large body. Her breasts pressed against the firm muscles of his chest, each panting breath teasing her already puckered nipples.
He leaned his cane against the door and drew his hand to her face. With a tenderness that contradicted his rough behavior, he trailed a finger down her cheek. “Perhaps you shouldn’t.”
His minty breath mixed with his unique tarragon scent, weaseled inside, and stroked her in places she never knew existed. Her mind fogged. “Shouldn’t what?”
He smiled. “Trust me.”
“Why not?” She squirmed, but that only stoked the heat building between them, the liquid fire racing through her veins.
He held her still. “You want to know what happens when I lose my mark?”
She nodded. He lit up her nerves everywhere he touched. Her heart pounded loud in her ears, each rapid breath feeding the frenzy building inside.
“I’ll lose control of my beast. You…you…” He cradled her head in his palm. His rough, callused thumb skimmed over her bottom lip. “You…tempt…me…”
Caught off guard by his words, she inhaled. An ache built along her gums, and she moistened her lips.
He kissed her, his mouth hard and firm against hers, bruising her in its intensity. Thrilling warmth flooded all the way to her core, dampening her panties. He slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, the smooth, silkiness of his stroke teasing her. She let him in despite the awareness that doing so made her emotionally vulnerable to him, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
Taking advantage of her acquiescence he deepened the kiss, exploring her, owning her, possessiveness radiating from him in waves.
A craving she couldn’t quite identify zipped along her nerves. Sharp pain erupted from her gums as her canines elongated. She broke the kiss, gripped his shirt collar, and yanked.
The loud rip of material echoed through the room.
Before she could think about her actions, she sank her teeth into the sensitive spot at the base of his neck. Blood slipped down her throat.
She really wasn’t human anymore. Unwilling to face the truth, she forced the thought away and gave herself to the pure, erotic pleasure coursing through her veins.
As she drank, he cradled her against him. Soft and soothing, Gaetan’s murmured words pierced the fog invading her brain. The urge to rip off his clothes, push him to the bed and have him right here, right now, rippled through her. She tugged on his shirt, the cloth bunching between her fingers.
A low, predatory growl burst from him. He tightened his grip on her arms. “Stop, Nicole.”
If only she could.
Nicole’s soft, sensual lips on Gaetan’s neck, and the gentle tugs as she drank from him sent a rush of blood south, lengthening him, fueling his desire for her. Feeding her, giving her what she needed to survive was more erotic than he’d imagined. Constrained like his beast, his shaft pulsed painful and hard against his pants. What he wouldn’t do to have more time with this female.
His bonding sac hardened under his tongue to the point of pain. The ink that would bond him to a female had never surfaced before, not once in his long life. To have it do so now sent a frantic chill over his shoulders and down his back. He’d avoided females, afraid of tying one to him with his deformed leg and his commitment to his sister. After what he’d done to Ginnia, he could never walk away from her. They were a package deal. No female wanted that.
With more force than he’d intended, he barked at her. “Stop, Nicole.”
She withdrew her fangs, and with tender strokes licked his skin, sealing the wound with her saliva. Not long ago, he’d done the same to her, saving her life in the process. He was bound to her, responsible for her. An odd satisfaction warmed his chest. His inner beast, silent for centuries, growled his assent. Had his beast woken because of this female, the one he couldn’t get out of his mind, or was the beast here because he was so close to losing his sanity?
“Umm, you taste so good.” She peered at him through sleepy eyes, gratification and bliss evident in her gaze. With a quick slip of her tongue, she licked her plump, reddened lips.
His attention pinpointed on the soft flesh. He couldn’t stop himself. After sliding his hand to the back of her neck, he angled her head, preparing her for his kiss once again. Drawing her to him, he pressed his mouth against hers, enjoying how she molded to him, matching his intensity.
She trailed her fingers into his hair, holding him in place, and slid her tongue between his lips. Her fangs elongated, scraping against his tongue, igniting his need and want of her. Blood pounded at his temple. His mind clouded to all thoughts except the physical sensations of her touch, her taste, and her scent searing into him.
Nicole moaned. The vibration travelled from her mouth to his, and his bonding sac pulsed, the membrane stretching taut beneath his tongue. A tendril of fear drifted into his mind, bringing him out of his aroused state and freezing him in place. To bond to her would be a mistake, and he stiffened.
She jerked in response. One of her fangs sliced under his tongue, puncturing his bonding sac. The pungent taste of tarragon filled his mouth. With more force than necessary, he broke the kiss, his hands pinning her shoulders against the door’s fine wooden grain.
She stared at him, her green eyes wide. “What was that?”
Dread skittered over his back and down his leg, seeking the weak point in his knee. Pain bloomed from the joint, but couldn’t match the fear twisting his insides, squeezing the breath from him.
Half blind with fear, he pushed away from the door, away from her, this female that he’d just committed his life. I’m a bonded male. Usually, bondings happened during lovemaking. The sex, combined with the bonding ink, produced the mirror image of the male’s mark onto the female’s skin, tying the female to the male as well. That hadn’t happened here. She wasn’t as bound to him as he was to her.
He stumbled, his leg, as well as his heart, unable to bear the weight. His knee hit the ground with a hard thunk. Pain travelled along his nerves until white spots formed in his vision.
“Are you okay? Did I…hurt you?” Nicole’s soft words cascaded over him, her voice filled with anguish.
His beast growled, the need to take her, complete the mating portion of the bonding, rippling over him with an intensity he’d never known before. The hair on his arms elongated.
“No!” His scream echoed off the chamber walls.
She flinched and recoiled from him, easing toward the table, as if the furniture could be an effective barrier between them. If he changed, there was no protection, not here, not anywhere.
His breaths heaved in and out of his lungs. In his crouched position, he couldn’t move, the pain riveting him in place. Pulling on the inner strength he’d honed over many centuries, he clamped down on his beast, trapping it in his mind. The hair on his arm receded to its normal length.
Nicole approached, one tentative step at a time, her soft-soled shoes swishing across the stone floor. She placed her hand on his shoulder and knelt next to him. The warmth of her skin, even through his shirt, was welcome and comforting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She thought herself responsible. His heart clenched. He breathed in deep, forcing himself to calm, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “No, it is I that should apologize to you.”
She brushed her finger over his forehead, down his cheek and under his chin. With a soft tug, she encouraged him to look at her. “I don’t understand. What happened?”
A crease formed between her brow, marring her beautiful features. He couldn’t allow that. He pointed to his cane. “Would you…”
Before he could finish his request, she rose to her feet and padded to retrieve his crutch, at least the physical one. In the back of his mind, he understood all too well that the pills in his pocket could be a bigger crutch and much more dangerous.
He glanced at his hand. The marking for patience was gone, and the others, the ones for responsibility, benevolence, and empathy were almost invisible. Sweat beaded his brow. He couldn’t lose the other three. His leg shook, the tremble wracking his entire body.
Nicole’s warm palm brushed down his arm, calming him and electrifying him at the same time. “Here.”
She drew his hand to the orange sunstone in the handle. The crack in the stone reflected the light, sending a brilliant cascade over her features, turning her into his own private jewel.
He gripped his cane and forced himself to a standing position. Blood fled from his brain. He concentrated on her pursed lips and the determined glint in her eye.
“Do you want to lie down?” She motioned to her bed.
No. Not in a million years. For a male to touch a female’s bed was a sign of commitment. He’d just done the ultimate in that one department, but he wouldn’t cross that other line, not now, not ever. Despite the bonding ink flowing through his veins, he wouldn’t force her to be with him. If he lay on her bed, he had no doubt they’d end up naked and between the sheets.
He met her gaze. “I’m fine now.”
She blinked, and her brows drew together.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. What a mess he’d created. This was a colossal cluster of enormous proportions and all his fault. He should’ve never kissed her in the first place. Maybe she hadn’t drunk any of his bonding ink. The thought sent a jolt of adrenaline into his bloodstream. “Did you taste anything unusual?”
She tilted her head, and a few strands of her golden-blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder. He wanted to reach out and touch the fine tresses, feel the silkiness between his fingers.
“I’m not sure. When you’re near, I smell tarragon, and after we kissed, I tasted it as well. Is that what you mean?”
Heaviness settled onto his shoulders. She’d indeed taken some of his bonding ink. He touched the skin on his throat. In a matter of hours, his bonding bands would appear. How many would he receive? He didn’t dare hope for three, but he prayed he received more than one. A single band was the sign of a bad relationship.
He shuffled closer to her, each step sending a jolt of agony up his leg. As he approached, her unique scent of ripe melons washed over him, reigniting his desire for her. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
She closed the distance between them. “Tell me.”
It took all his willpower not to pull her to him, kiss her until she begged for more. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around her elbow and rubbed his thumb over the tender skin on the inside of her forearm. “What you tasted was my bonding ink.”
“Bonding ink? What does that mean?” She narrowed her eyes.
The urge to kiss her overwhelmed him. He clamped his jaw so hard his teeth rattled. “It means I am your mate…bonded to you.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He continued to stroke her arm, as much for his need to touch her as for his desire to give her some measure of comfort.
“Your mate? No, I belong to no man…er, male, ever.” She jutted her jaw.
“I can’t, no shouldn’t, be bonded to anyone either. However, because I released my bonding ink, I am bound to you, but you won’t be mine until we complete the physical bonding…” She’d come from another world. Had she left behind a male, someone she cared about? The burning desire to know crested over him, and he tugged her close, his need to feel her next to him overriding his common sense. He blurted the question before he could stop himself. “Was there a male in your life?”
She swallowed and licked her lips.
He growled, his beast eager to claim her.
She raised her chin. “No. I had a boyfriend a while back, but he’s no longer in the picture.”
Relief skittered over his nerves, and the tension in his shoulders eased.
She pushed away from him, and he let her go, sensing she needed some space. Not that he blamed her. This was his fault. His mark for responsibility burned on his hand, the line barely visible. There was no way he could keep up his commitment to her. He had a mission to complete, to find Anlon, one he likely wouldn’t survive due to his weak leg, but first, he had to see Ginnia, if for no other reason than to say goodbye.
“I have to visit my sister, Ginnia, before the evening repast. Would you like to meet her?” He blinked. He hadn’t intended ask to Nicole to go with him, but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her alone. Deep inside, he wanted to keep her next to him.
She studied him for a long moment, assessing him. At last, she exhaled. “Is she stoic and demanding like you or different?”
“Different, very different.” Shame heated his back and raced over his ears.
Nicole crossed her arms. “Then I’d love to meet her.”