The Invisible Ring

“It’s not as if you haven’t seen me before,” Jared said, charmed by the shyness.



“That was different,” Lia muttered, focusing on his bare feet.



Jared took another breath . . .



. . . and heard the drums.



Heard the Priestess’s voice rising out of the twilight to call the men to the dance.



His nostrils flared. His blood heated. Tension flowed out of him as desire saturated his body.



He flicked a glance at the hearth. The wood that had been readied to take the evening chill out of the room began to burn.



A flick of his hand closed the curtains. Only the young fire lit the room, smudging all the sharp lines until there were no lines, until the walls seemed to disappear and go on forever.



Another flick of his hand vanished all the furniture except the bed and the small tables on either side of it.



Lia yelped when she landed on the floor. “Jared, what—”



He walked toward her. Her eyes widened.



“Can you hear the drums, Lia?” he asked softly.



“Can you hear them? Like the land’s heartbeat. Or the heartbeat of the Shalador people.” He held out his hands. “Let me show you the Fire Dance.”



He lifted her up and pulled her against him. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm. Her cold hands pushed at his waist.



He did nothing but hold her, letting his eyes wander over her face.



When she stopped trying to push him away, he slowly lowered his head, his lips parting for a kiss.



She arched back to escape his lips. He smiled because it only pushed her hips tighter against his.



Since she wouldn’t give him her mouth, he took her throat. Soft kisses. Gentle sucking.



He licked her jaw.



Her hands clamped on his waist.



“Do you hear them, Lia?” he asked as he licked the corner of her mouth with the tip of his tongue.



“I—I hear something beating.” Her voice had gone husky.



“The drums.” Jared brushed his lips over hers.



Her eyes were dark smoke. “Is there someone singing?”



“Yes,” he whispered into her ear. “Listen to her. Follow her. The Fire Dance lies at the end of her voice.”



He covered her mouth with his and let them both sink into the drums and the voice and the musky twilight.



Stepping back, he drew her into the center of the room.



Lia plucked at the sweater. “It’s warm in here.”



“Take it off,” Jared suggested quietly as he slowly circled her, his feet automatically following the set pattern of steps.



Lia tossed the sweater aside. She puffed out her cheeks. “Maybe we should open a window.”



“Maybe you should take off the shirt.” His fingertips brushed down her arm as he moved past her. “The Fire’s supposed to be hot.”



She reached for the first button. Her hand froze. Her eyes locked on the golden chest that glistened from more than one kind of heat.



“Let me help.” Jared gave her a feathery kiss while he used Craft to undo all the buttons. His hands brushed the shirt aside, brushed it over her shoulders, brushed it down her back.



She made breathy little sounds.



“Watch me.” He stepped back into his circle. “Watch the Dance.”



“Aren’t—” Lia puffed out her cheeks again. “Aren’t you supposed to be naked when you do that?”



He vanished the trousers.



She gulped and tried to stare at her feet, but he’d already drawn her in too deeply. She raised her head and watched him dance, watched the muscles flex, watched him smile as he moved his hips, watched the shadows form into other dancers.



Listening to the drums, Jared increased the tempo, stepping close enough to brush against her, stepping back to widen the circle.



She pivoted in the center of the circle, her eyes following him, no longer shy enough to look away from a male celebrating his maleness.



As the drums began to fade, Jared wrapped an arm around Lia’s waist and whirled her around the room until they reached the side of the bed.



Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her long and deep.



“Let me show you the rest of the Fire Dance,” he said hoarsely.



She didn’t answer. But the look in her eyes was answer enough.



He undressed her slowly, coaxed her into the bed, and stretched out beside her.



She shifted a little to move her hips away from his throbbing cock.



He shifted with her.



“It’ll be all right,” he said as his hand glided down her arm and back again. “It’ll be all right.”



While he brushed his lips against hers, he reached with his mind and brushed lightly against her inner barriers.



She recoiled with a gasp.



Jared murmured soothing nothings while he kissed and caressed her.



Always before, he’d given pleasure in order to escape the pain of punishment. Now he gave pleasure for the pleasure of giving it. He explored her body, fascinated by the muscles that quivered, and finally relaxed, under his light touch. He tasted her, rubbed himself against her so that her scent would be on his skin and his on hers. He laughed silently when her fingers dove into his hair to hold his mouth to her breast. He enjoyed the way her body both pulled away from and reached for the finger lightly brushing between her legs.



And all the while he slowly seduced her body, he stroked her inner barriers until she was so used to his presence she didn’t react at all.



Then he began the journey into the abyss. Down, down, down while his mouth and fingers made her quietly desperate, while her grasping hands made him burn.



Down, down, down until he slipped under her inner barriers and saw the shining green web of herself.



Jared flowed upward. Carefully, delicately, he brushed a strand of her inner web.



Her body tensed. Thrashed.



His rolled, half-covering her to keep her still.



*It’s all right, Lia.* He brushed the strand again.



*Yes,* she said, but her body shuddered, and she didn’t sound at all convinced.



Following Talon’s instructions, Jared carefully flowed his Red strength between the strands of her web, then formed a shield above her. That, Talon had explained, was why it was better for the male to wear the darker Jewel. If the witch panicked for some reason and tried to descend into the abyss, she wouldn’t be able to get past the shield and inadvertently rip through her own inner web.



When he was done, he kissed her—and jerked back in surprise.



“What . . .” Lia said, her eyes wide with shock.



Jared caressed her breast, and felt the caress.



She pulled his head down and kissed him with a hunger that, when added to his own, left him reeling.



This was the seduction and the danger, Jared realized as he kissed her again. When a man was inside a woman’s inner barriers, he could become so tangled up in the physical sensations of being both the giver and receiver that he wouldn’t be able to distinguish his body from hers.



He covered her. Felt his body pressing her down. Felt the bed under her back. Felt himself press into the opening until he met the physical barrier.



Jared buried his face against her neck.



Breathing hard, Lia gripped his shoulders. “Do it.”



“Lia . . .”



“Do it.”



He thrust.



And took the pain as well as the pleasure.



For a moment, the world turned end over end, whirling them in a storm of sensations.



He wanted to thrust again, to feel that pleasure.



He was terrified of the blood that covered him.



Lia dug her nails into his shoulders hard enough to break the skin and cried out in pain.



Sheathed inside her, the impaled and the impaler, Jared forced his body to remain still while they rode out the storm.



And realized that he could have stepped away from it. That he could have kept himself disengaged enough not to be swept away.



That’show a Jeweled male broke a witch. He mired her in the duality of sensations while staying in the eye of the storm. And then he gave pain instead of pleasure. The witch became her own enemy, feeling as if she were inflicting the pain upon herself. Unbalanced by the conflict, she would try to flee, but the pain would follow, driving her to her own destruction.



The knowledge made him shake.



“Jared.” Lia wrapped her arms around him. “Jared?” She shifted under him.



He struggled to find the self-control that would let him pull back enough not to get swept away by the physical sensations, not to lose control completely.



“Jared,” Lia murmured, stroking his back urgently. “Please.”



Even if he could have distanced himself from her body, he couldn’t bear to pull away fromLia .



So he wrapped her in his strength—body, mind, and heart—and surrendered both of them to the pleasure of the Fire.



Chapter Twenty-four



Leaning against his desk, Krelis slowly twisted the Sapphire-Jeweled ring on his right hand.



Darker than the Green Jewel, lighter than the Red.



But skill and training counted for something, didn’t they? What was a pleasure slave’s raw strength compared with centuries of learning how to fight? What difference did it make if the bastard wore the Red? He didn’t really know how to use it.



Except the Shalador Warlordhad held off the marauders who had banded together to capture the Green-Jeweled bitch-Queen. Had done a lot more than hold them off.



Had his pet been partially responsible for that? Krelis wondered as the Sapphire Jewel appeared and disappeared with each turn of the ring. Had he used his own training to support and guide the Red? It could have ended with that ambush.Should have ended with it.



His pet had been a serious miscalculation. He hadn’t expected loyalty. No Hayllian expectedreal loyalty from these here-and-gone races. But a man who allowed himself to be bought should have the good sense tostay bought.



Well, that was one other thing he’d take care of when he got to that privy hole called Ranon’s Wood.



“Come in,” Krelis snapped in response to a knock on his office door.



Lord Maryk stepped into the room just far enough not to be noticeably still in the corridor. “All the supplies have been gathered, Lord Krelis. The guards from the last two southern Provinces are expected within the hour.”