mythean arcana 06 - master of fate (7 page)

She saw herself reflected in his eyes. He wasn’t the same. But then, life scarred anyone who lived as long as they had. He was broken, so was she, and though she desperately wanted to put them back together again, she couldn’t do it while she was still teetering on the edge of insanity.

The odds of fixing herself were so damn slim. How was she supposed to get rid of the terrible desire to steal souls? She was so sick that even now she ached to steal Felix’s soul. His soul was so strong, so enticing. It’d be so easy…

She shook her head violently, reining in the dark urge. She could never do that to him. As much as she wanted him, he could never be allowed to know what was wrong with her. Keeping things casual was the only way to go.

Aurora was grateful to see the glow of his cabin’s windows on the horizon. They pulled up alongside the house and Mouse leapt out of the fluffy egg she’d been encased in. She turned into smoke and floated through the wall into the warm house.

Good idea. Aurora couldn’t get warm soon enough. She swung her leg over the side of the machine and stumbled off, her limbs nearly frozen. She hated the freaking cold. Felix climbed off and pushed the door open for her, letting her precede him into the house. The warmth of the living room rushed over her and she stifled a groan.

“Thanks for your jacket,” she said when her face could move enough to speak.

He nodded, not meeting her eyes. His muscles were tense and there was strain in his averted face. She could almost feel the tension coming off him. Something was wrong.

 He pointed to a door off an alcove in the corner of the living room. “That leads to the sauna. Go warm up. There’s a spare bedroom upstairs. First left.” Even his voice sounded strained. He clenched and unclenched his fists and his jaw looked like it could break rocks.

She opened her mouth to say thanks, but he spun on his heel and headed straight back out the door. It slammed behind him.

Well, shit.

She glanced out the window. He jumped back on the snowmobile—still no jacket—and headed back to the barn.

“I don’t even know where to start with that,” she said to Mouse.

Mouse, who sat by the empty hearth, looked at her and blinked, then meowed plaintively. 

“Sure, muffin.” Aurora waved her hand at the hearth and it burst into flame. 

Mouse immediately started purring. Aurora eyed the door to the sauna. She couldn’t deal with Felix now—he clearly had issues. The man she’d cared for so much was gone. Might as well thaw her bones, give him a chance to figure his shit out, and then they’d reconvene. 

Holy hell, I’m a dead man.

Felix yanked the keys out of the snowmobile’s ignition and tossed them toward the bowl on the shelf. Missed.

Damn it. He never missed. 

But he was a shaking mess right now. He had a hard-on. An actual, honest-to-gods hard-on. He hadn’t had one of those from touching another person in three hundred years. Every now and then, in the dark of night when he couldn’t help but think of her, the one he’d thought long lost, he might get one. He’d take care of business, but this was different.

This had been started by
touching
her. Normally it was just memories. But this had been touch.

The recalled feeling brought equal parts lust and destruction. Confused signals and impulses still streaked through his body. Brief pleasure at the heat and softness of her, something he’d longed for, followed quickly by his stomach turning at the feel of another’s touch and his skin burning where it met hers.

It dredged up memories of the torture. Of the horrific years after Aurora’s disappearance. After one hundred years of searching, he’d concluded he’d never see her again. 

It was devastating, the realization that her touch—his mate’s touch—tortured him as much as anyone else’s did. He’d hoped it might be different. That she would somehow be an exception.

He spun on his heel in the barn and punched the wall. Wood splintered. Pain streaked from his knuckles up his arm. The ache faded as he shook his hand. Bones knit back together more quickly than his mind could right itself. 

He sucked in deep breaths as he stumbled back to lean against the wall of the barn. He might not be normal anymore, but he could sure as hell try. With his eyes closed, he evened his breathing and cleared his mind. It was a technique he’d perfected to get rid of the nightmares after he’d escaped the Seer. Banishing the thoughts of what she’d done to him was the only way he could make it through the night.

Once his mind cleared, the memory of their first kiss flooded in. He hadn’t intended to dredge it up, but now that it was here, he couldn’t help but fall into it. 

He’d been trying to woo her for two months, but she’d been wary. Life had taught her to be so. But he’d loved her company. It had been no hardship to take his time to win her with adventures and picnics and flowers, no matter how desperately he’d wanted her physically. It’d made him clumsy at times, but he’d managed.

They’d been picnicking at the base of a small waterfall when he’d finally gained her trust. They’d sat on a blanket and the sun had gleamed on her golden hair. It’d warmed his skin as he’d leaned down to take her lips with his own. 

Pleasure had hit him in the chest at the feel of her soft lips parting beneath his. She’d been ravenous, as if a dam had broken along with her wariness. It’d been one of the best days of his life.

Until today.

She was alive. It was both glorious and terrible. She lived. The thing he’d wanted more than anything else in three hundred years. 

But he couldn’t touch her without being mentally thrown back to the torture that had warped him.

The image of her standing in his kitchen arose, pushing aside the sweet memory of their first kiss. Unable to help himself, his mind built the image of her naked form. His cock throbbed and he grappled with how to handle the fantasy. He hadn’t had one so vivid in centuries.

Might as well embrace it.

The first thing his mind did was build a cage around Aurora. A cage with thin golden bars, but a cage all the same. In his fantasy, Aurora undressed, peeling off layers of clothes until she stood golden and sleek before him. His chilled skin heated, his breath strangled.

With fumbling fingers, he drew down the zipper of his fly. It parted easily beneath his fingers. Cool air rushed in to envelop his cock. He gripped it, grunting at the sensation, and stroked.

Pleasure streaked through him. In the fantasy, a naked Aurora walked to the cage bars and gripped them, gazing out at him. Her flesh pressed against the metal, gold to gold. He approached, unable to help himself. With a trembling hand, he reached out to run his fingertips over her shoulder. So smooth.

The bars constrained his movements, but he didn’t mind. He traced the skin of her upper arm, shivering at the feel of her.

“More,” she whispered, her gaze rapt on his.

He reached out to touch the tip of her breast, his fingertips tingling. Her head fell back and she moaned.

The sound shot through him, dragging along his nerve endings and making him shudder. He fell to his knees in the fantasy, pressing his lips to the softness of her stomach. 

He dragged his tongue down the smooth skin, seeking the heat he was desperate to taste. He blew a puff of breath across the golden curls at the apex of her thighs and she shivered. So close.

It was just a fantasy, but pride welled within him at the idea that he could make her shiver. Warmth shot though him, followed by a burst of pleasure so strong that he almost came in his hand.

His lips traced the edges of her curls and his mouth watered.

Aurora’s gentle touch upon his head landed like a blow to the face. His fantasy transformed, forcefully overtaken by the nightmares of the past. Suddenly, his mind hurtled back three hundred years. He was strapped to the torturer’s table, broken glass grinding and slicing beneath his naked back.

He was blinded by the blood that had seeped into his eyes, but he could hear her approaching, her footsteps always sure. His muscles tensed as she neared, his heart fluttering with dread. Hundreds of times, she’d come to him.

What new poison coated her blade this time?

“Will you tell me what I want to know?” the sweet voice hissed.

He said nothing. Aurora’s location would die with him.

“Are you sure?” the torturer asked. “Because something quite new coats this blade. I think it could even scar you forever. Perhaps this time, the eye I pierce won’t heal.”

He twisted against his bindings, jerking with all his strength.
Not that.
He’d lost count of the number of times she’d stabbed him in the eyes.

But instead of the blade against his eye, he felt blazing pain against his chest. He roared, arching off the table. His skin hissed and sizzled as the acid burned through him. 

His torturer cackled. “This one is fun!”

She traced dark patterns into his skin as he passed in and out of consciousness from the pain, waking only long enough to scream in agony.

The sound of the howling wind tore him out of the memory. 

Felix choked and stumbled backward, his eyes flying open.

Panic gripped his throat and his stomach heaved.

He shook himself, gluing his gaze to the wall of the barn, searching out the familiar.
I’m home. I’m free. I’m the master of my fate.

No one could touch him here. It was just a nightmare, one he hadn’t had in a long time. He’d found that as long as he avoided touch, he avoided the nightmares. Touch seemed to trigger them. His subconscious had fucked with him, but he was awake now, no longer lost in fantasy. Shuddering, he zipped his fly.

A frustrated sigh burst from his lungs and he shoved a hand through his hair. This was ridiculous—he had to get it together. He ran his fingers across the tattoos on his arm. 

I am master of my fate.

He might not be normal anymore, but he could at least fake it. He had to, until he could figure out a way to get his act together enough to win back Aurora. There had to be a way around his touch issue. Because now that fate had returned her to him, he was determined to hold onto her. By all the gods, she would be his again

A glance at the clock showed that an hour had passed since he’d left her in the cabin. How long had he been on his knees in that fantasy? It was as though time had stopped. Perhaps it had. As half timewalker, he’d always had a slightly different relationship with time. He made sure not to go backward—doing that too often could fuck with your mind and turn you crazy—and there wasn’t much point, to his way of thinking. Changing the past was punishable by death if the timewalker elders caught you—which they would. There’d been times when he’d wanted to go back just to see Aurora, but it hadn’t been worth the risk.

He needed to find some balance before he could speak to Aurora. A few moments later, he quietly walked into his house. He could hear her upstairs in the spare bedroom. Perfect. 

The sauna beckoned him. He strode to the entry and peered in. He’d heated it earlier in the afternoon, but it felt even hotter now. Aurora must have already used it and stoked the stove. She’d been shivering so hard he thought she’d break apart.

She wouldn’t return. It was safe. He stripped off his clothes in the little antechamber, then slipped in through the wooden door. The steamy heat filled his lungs and calmed his mind. Surrounded by the tranquility he always found in the sauna, it was easier to push away the thought of a naked Aurora, who’d been here just moments ago.

The sauna was a tiny room built entirely of cedar. Two levels of benches, like giant steps, were built into an L-shape along two sides. A small stove for heating sat in the corner opposite the benches. There was no light within because he liked the dark. The little window in the door let in a soft glow from the antechamber so that he could see well enough not to walk into the hot stove. 

He climbed to his favorite seat, the corner of the higher bench, and leaned back against the wall, one leg stretched out in front of him along the bench and the other bent, propped up. With a deep breath, he cleared his mind for meditation. 

Thank the gods he had these moments alone to get his act together.

The door creaked. His eyes flew open.

Aurora stood naked in the doorway, lit from behind. He could see only her outline, but the sight hit him in the gut. She was short, only a few inches over five feet, but she looked even smaller, given his vantage point from the higher bench.

Her curves were fuller than he’d imagined. Her breasts were cast in shadow, but her waist cut in deeply before flaring out to wide hips. His hands itched to grip them even as his mind rebelled. The conflicting signals were starting to drive him insane.

“What are you doing here?” His voice scraped at his throat on the way out, and his head felt foggy.

“I was still cold. The room is chilly. I didn’t know where you were, so I decided to come back here. I’m glad I did.” Her voice was stronger than it had been before and he had a feeling her gaze was roving over him. Had she been as off balance when she realized it would be he who would help her fix the problem at the soulceress city?