Eversworn: Daughters of Askara, Book 3 (20 page)

“My hands are good.” Damn his voice had gone rusty.

“All right.” A sultry tone answered him. “Then I’ll make you comfortable in other ways.”

Her fingernails scratched a downward path from his chest to his navel. When she traced the edge of his pants, he shivered. By the time she started working his laces, his fists clenched in the material of his shirt and tiny rips were punctuating her every move. As she spread the fabric, her hand found him hard and eager. One long stroke up his shaft buckled his knees. Then she knelt.

Warmth from her breath hit his skin and then her tongue flicked out to taste him. Her hum of approval made his nape prickle. Blood mingled with sweat and trickled down his spine. He ignored everything but his Isabeau. Sweet lips engulfed him, and his guttural praise earned him a low hum of her pleasure that vibrated through his shaft. His eyes shut, spine bowed, and for the first time in his life, he experienced pleasure without artifice, without guile, and he wanted more.

Fabric ripped overhead, drawing Isabeau’s wide eyes from her task, up his body to his arms.

Dillon shook the pins and needles stinging from his hands and smiled down at her.

As good as it was to receive…it was so much better to give.

Delicious heat skittered along my spine as Dillon shredded his shirt and reached for me. His eyes gleamed, silver spotting their centers. Was arousal the cause, as I’d assumed? Or was Adina right, and this was a part of some greater change? I touched his cheek. “Your eyes are beautiful.”

“Thanks.” He blinked, and they were once again bicolored and familiar.

Our heavy breaths echoed off the thin metal walls surrounding us. Any passersby would see our legs, the direction our feet pointed, and their imaginations would paint a sinful portrait of us.

I wasn’t as embarrassed by the notion as I should have been.

While Roland had kept our relationship hidden, Dillon made no effort to hide me from his peers. In fact, he made certain all males knew I was his. Even with my tarnished reputation, he stood by me. I never thought a male once so resentful of my heritage could take…was it pride…in me?

Dillon’s fingers chased a fresh surge of warmth from my flushed chest as it rose up my neck and heated my face. He toyed with my hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers before he inhaled, his eyes fluttering closed. The sight of him so entranced with me was oddly disarming.

“Dillon?” My head tilted back as his hands tangled in my hair and anchored me in place. “We need to talk.”

His amused snort surprised me. “Now she wants to talk.”

“Your eyes have gone silver.”

The smile slid from his face. I had his attention.

His gaze shuttered, locking me outside, forcing me to look in on a male whose lips had warmed mine only moments earlier, but peeled from his teeth in a snarl meant to warn me away from him. My chest ached as I took that first step back. This time, he let me go.

He ground his palms into his eyes and mumbled something about a mistake.

I staggered back another step. “According to you, our relationship is a series of mistakes.”

His hands dropped. “We have a relationship?”

He measured me for some reaction then frowned when I failed to provide the correct one.

I braced a hand over my roiling stomach. “You’re going through a change.”

“Whatever Phineas told you—”

“Adina told me.” His expression turned wary. “She said you’re exhibiting signs of change.”

No answer.

Turning from him was made easier by his quiet anger. Though my spine stung in warning, I stood my ground and addressed the door. Foolish to think I would make it past the threshold if he chose to detain me. “I admit I don’t understand all of what she implied. She told me that you—”

“She shouldn’t have opened her mouth in the first place. If I wanted you to know, then I—”

I whirled and answered his growl with my own. “You would have told me? No. I don’t think so. You ask me for everything, but what have you given me in return? Your protection, yes, and I am grateful for it. But what have you given me of yourself? Nothing. If not for Adina, I wouldn’t know you were a prime, that there were primes, or that only a prima could have triggered such a change.” I panted hard, furious, hurting. “She was right about all of it. You have met your mate.”

He caught my upper arms and held me trapped in place. “Yes, I have. But you knew that when you kissed me.” His lips twisted. “You knew that when you said you wanted me, and you didn’t let it stop you, did you? If my eyes hadn’t turned, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’d be buried balls-deep in you and you’d be screaming my name, wouldn’t you?”

“I…”

“Hell yes, you would.” He shook me. “You started this. Man up and finish it.”

Fury gave me strength to bare my soul to the one male guaranteed to shred it.

“Fine. I will.” I struggled, but he held me firm. “Adina believes that only a prima could have triggered your change, but she’s lived in isolation. She can’t know whether crossbred females or other demon breeds can cause primes to change. Even if that were the case, and it’s not, there are no unmated females here. You wouldn’t steal another male’s mate, and you wouldn’t be with me now if your mate was elsewhere. Don’t bother to deny it. There’s only me. I did this to you.
Me
.”

His eyes glittered. “What exactly did you do to me, Isabeau?” he asked softly.

His sudden calm made me break into a nervous sweat. “I…triggered your change.”

“You sure about that?” His grip loosened.

I nodded, trying to retreat but still unable to break his hold.

He dragged me two steps closer. “Then you know what this means, don’t you?”

My mouth opened, but my throat wouldn’t work.

“You made a good point. What are the odds of another female in the colony?” He sounded thoughtful. “Maybe it isn’t you.” He released me. “I guess I’d better go and see if I can find out.”

“No.” I placed my hands on his chest over his heart. Its wild beat mirrored my own.

“I think I will.” Each step scooted me backwards. “Unless there’s a reason I shouldn’t?”

Pinned to the door, there was nowhere for me to go but out or him to go but back.

I shoved him. “You’re
mine
.” My vehemence shocked us both.

He arched an eyebrow and asked again, “You sure about that?”

I slid a hand down his stomach until I palmed his erection. He was still hard, still hot, and his eyes flashed silver on contact. He hissed a string of curses from his teeth while I stroked him.

“This is for me.” I tightened my grip, smoothed my thumb over his damp tip and relished his shudder. Gazing into sterling eyes, I asked, “What else is mine? What is this change of yours?”

He panted. “You sure you can handle it?”

My possessive growl was my answer.

“I don’t look how you’re used to,” he warned. He used me, rocking his hips into my fist. I let him, relished him until he pried my hand free. “Primes are different even before the change.”

I reached for him again, but he waggled his finger. I caught it, kissed it. “I want to see you.”

“Then give me some room.” He rolled his shoulders. “It’ll get tight in here.”

I sounded breathless. “I don’t mind.”

“I haven’t shown anyone. Not since I escaped.” He squinted at me. “Give me a minute.” He exhaled. “I’m kind of, well…” He closed his eyes and he inhaled. Sneaking a peek down at his pale-skinned hands, he chuckled despite himself. “I’m not sure if I can do this with an audience.”

I gave him a minute longer. “Should I turn around?”

He shifted from one leg onto the other. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Tucking my smile from view, I gave him privacy. I even closed my eyes.

One breath, two, then a third, and his relieved sigh heated my back. “All right.”

When my eyes cracked open, heavy crimson wings lined the walls to either side of me and their tiny claws hooked over the tops of the stall for support. I touched the filmy skin and watched as bright reds radiated from each point where my fingers rested. His wings were massive, his coloration richer, but so far, nothing unusual. Turning slowly, I allowed myself a moment to compose myself. His dark stomach was the next thing I saw of him. Beneath my gaze, his muscles quivered. Sweat on his skin made it gleam like polished ebony. His weight shifted, drawing my gaze downward, past his unfastened pants. His feet were bare, his boots kicked to one side. Thick, red spurs protruded from the backs of his heels. Again, nothing I hadn’t seen or treated. I was about to ask him where his differences lay, when a flicker of motion by his ankle widened my eyes. Was that, “A tail?”

“Figures you’d notice that first,” he said gruffly.

“It’s a very nice tail.” I peered around him. He’d tucked it out of sight, whether he realized it or not.

“It’s mine,” he said after a moment. “I mean, it’s not part of the change. All primes have them.” His expression held a curious mix of embarrassment and pride, the result of a rarity whose conformation to Askaran and then human society left him uncertain of his appeal in either. Even his tone warned the appendage was permanent, which made me curious if other changes weren’t.

When he cleared his throat, I jerked my gaze upward for his comfort. Again, I admired lean muscle twitching in time with the tail at his feet. Scanning upward, I found nothing I hadn’t seen before until my perusal snagged past his right temple. My gaze skittered left. A matched set. Small knots of carmine-colored bone twisted from either side of his head.

I pricked a finger on one spiral tip before thinking to ask, “May I?” He nodded and I pursued my timid exploration. He winced when my fingers slid from bone to tender skin. “The horns are new?”

“Yeah, they are.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “They’re the worst of it.”

“Your scar…” I traced the jagged edge. “I wondered if it was real or an embellishment.”

“It was a parting gift from Queen Eliya.” He added, “After I strangled her with my tail.”

I laughed at the pride in his voice. No wonder he chose to let the scar show even through his glamour. I would have done the same. “She returned the favor by trying to pluck out your eye?”

He winked. “She didn’t try hard enough.” A laugh. “I guess I didn’t either. She survived.”

“That’s all?” I scanned his face, made beautiful by his laughter. “That’s everything?”

Red slashed his cheeks. “There is one more thing.” He twisted right and resettled that wing.

Carmine-colored spikes jutted from his hairline, trailed down his nape and extended past his shoulders. Blood smeared his skin, glistening on the spiked ends. More dripped down his back.

Recalling all the times he’d rubbed his eyes, his neck, I regretted I hadn’t realized what pain he’d been enduring. He’d been unwilling to ask for help, especially from me, because he’d have to lower his guard and answer questions. I touched the nearest tip gently. “Are they retractable?”

“They seem to be. Once I gain more control, if I do, I’ll let you know.” He rolled a shoulder, and they slid beneath his skin. “You’d think I’d remember, but I don’t. The primes I met while I was enslaved, well, they weren’t much for teaching the new kid how to survive in the wild. They taught me other skills. Eliya made certain of that.” His expression turned grim. “I knew enough I didn’t melt down when the spikes appeared. My father made sure before he…” He exhaled. “I don’t want to go there. Not now.” He stroked my cheek with a claw-tipped finger.

“Then don’t.” I wanted to hear his story, but not as much as I wanted him.

“Talking was your idea.” Silver engulfed his eyes, swallowing the blue and green irises he shouldn’t have without his glamour. “I was happy where we were, doing what we were doing.”

“I forget.” I tweaked his nipple, and he all but purred. “Where were we?”

“I think…” One claw sliced through my top’s crisscrossing straps. “I was about to discover how sensitive you are.” Torn fabric pooled about my waist. “What is—? That broken horse again?” His large palms covered my breasts. “What is it with you and shoving things down your shirt?”

“I don’t have any pockets,” I defended. “Besides, it’s broken. I didn’t think you’d want it.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “On the list of things I want right now, the horse doesn’t rate.”

I moaned when his coarse thumbs found my nipples hard and tweaked them harder. Soon his hands and fingers weren’t enough, for either of us. He lifted one breast, lowered his head and let his lips brush over that soft skin, leaving a damp trail of stinging kisses pressed everywhere but where I craved his mouth most. His tongue swirled away the hurt, making me whimper for more.

I started when my side tickled and glanced down in time to catch him cut me free of my skirt and work the rest of the fabric over my hips until I stood naked before him. Cramped as we were, his view was limited. His scowl told me what he thought of that. When he glanced up, he smiled.

“Next time,” he promised.

I nodded, forcing the words through a tight throat. “Next time.”