Tangled Sin (A Dark Realm Novel) (18 page)

“You think bearing his scent marks you as his mate?” Her expression darkened with resentment. “Réomer’s smell will soon wear off. Do you seriously believe he’ll stay with a frail mortal? I am from the House of Agares, I'm more suited to be his mate. You are nothing but his whore.”

Whore? Frail?
Saia’s blood thundered in her head as understanding dawned.

Ikaria stepped between them. “Let her go.”

“No.” Saia held up her other hand, her temper teetering on a dangerous edge. She wasn't a fool. She probably wouldn’t win in a fight against this demoness, but this was the skank who’d tried to trap Riley into renouncing her. And that she refused to tolerate.

She pinned the woman with her haughtiest, coldest look. Hell, it worked for her mother, why not her? “Try your crap in tricking my man—er, mate again, and I will skewer you through your grasping black heart.”

The woman tossed back her hair, her eyes morphing to a deeper shade of malice.

And Saia had always thought green a beautiful color. At least on Riley, it was.

“You don’t know whom you’re dealing with,” the demoness hissed.

“I don’t care if you're the Queen of the Damned, get out of my way!”

The woman’s mouth thinned. Her grip tightened, cutting off the circulation in Saia’s arm. She ground her jaw against the pain and held her ground, didn't give an inch. Of course, having Ikaria as backup helped a lot.

Slowly, the woman released her, malevolence bleeding into her expression as she stepped back. The knowledge seeped into Saia that she’d made her first enemy.

Well, she didn't care. She wasn't going to be here long enough to cross paths with this slag again.

Saia pivoted and bumped into Ikaria, who stood right on her heels, looking both wary and awed. With a mumbled apology, Saia dashed up the stairs, grateful her disciplined jogging gave her the ability to run four flights of stairs without panting like an old woman and showing her nemesis just how
frail
she was.

“That was most impressive,” Ikaria said, easily keeping pace with her. “But watch out for her. She’s noble born and takes whatever she wants.”

“I don’t care who she is or what she wants,” Saia snapped. “Riley is off limits.”

She darted into the bedroom and skidded to a halt in fear when she found him sprawled on the floor like a felled oak. He appeared unkempt, unshaven, wearing only his pants. His body riddled with several slashes. Blood seeped from a deep wound on his abs and dripped on the floor. Oh, dear God!

At her noisy entrance, his eyelids flickered opened, his gaze unfocused.

“
Riley
—” She dropped to her knees, slapping her hand over the wound on his belly, yelled, “Get me clean towels, warm water, and whatever you use to treat wounds. Hurry.”

“We don’t heal soldiers,” Ikaria said, frowning. “You either live through an injury or fade into rebirth or Purgatory. It reveals the strength of a warrior.”

Were they freakin’ kidding her?
Saia unclenched her jaw, snarled. “I don’t give a flying crap. Get me what I asked for, dammit!”

Ikaria rushed off. Moments later, she hurried to Saia’s side with a metal bowl of water and the rest of what she required.

“You need anything else?” she asked. Saia shook her head.

While Riley watched her through half-mast lids, she held the small towel to his ribs then dipped another in the water. “What the heck did you do?” Her voice cracked under the strain of her fear, barely aware Ikaria had left the room. “U-use yourself as a pincushion?”

Amusement flickered in his beautiful green eyes. Glimpses of the old Riley she knew resurfaced, merging with this new, harder, and dangerously sexy version of him. Her vision glazed with tears. “You’re scaring the life out of me.”

“And you’ve been scaring me from the moment I met you…” He raised his hand and brushed at a stray strand of hair that had escaped her braid. “It’s just another wound, I’ll be fine.”

“Another—? God, you should be thankful you’re still alive.”

“Wouldn’t that make it easier for you?” He pushed up and winced as he leaned against the bed. “Me, dead? You could leave, go back to your life.”

Annoyed, she pressed harder on his wound. “I think you have a fever—the only thing responsible for the bullcrap you’re spewing. I don’t want you dead, I never did. Perhaps the sword was poisoned and messed with your common sense?”

He gripped both of her wrists. Her gaze flew to his, became trapped by the sheer intensity in his darkening stare. For a weak man laden with holes, his strength astonished her. “Just admit it. You're scared of what I truly am. No, not my species
. Me
.”

Her heart thudded. The sudden feral gleam turned his eyes molten. A stare that told her he wanted her flat on her back, on her knees.

“Yes, Saia, anyway I can get you.”

Heat rushed to her face. For someone hurt so badly, he sure seemed quite lucid. But her tummy dipped at his words. “Why? You mated me to keep me safe, there’s no need to pretend you want more from me.”

He blew out a rough breath, dropped his head back on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. “Saia, I know I was an asshole at the party, I just didn't want you dragged into this treacherous life of mine—”

“So you hurt me, instead? Said I was too much work?” Pain seeped into her again.

He rubbed a hand down his whiskered face, his bleary gaze lowering to hers. “I had to get you to stay away from me. So, yes, I hurt you.”

Hearing it felt like he’d punched her in the chest again. She tried to hold in her anguish, rinsed the terry cloth, then dabbed at the blood trailing down his wound.

When she didn't look at him, he grabbed her upper arms, forcing her gaze up. “Gods, Saia, cut me a little slack.”

“You hurt me.” What he’d said had cut too deep. “I can’t help the life
I
was born into. If that’s what you honestly think, then you don’t really see me—”

“Don’t see you?”
A humorless laugh escaped him. “I see you, Saia. I see every godsdamn thing—every facet of you. You beguile me, torment me so bad that, at times, I can't fucking see straight. I'm demon. My soul’s dark. Yeah, I used human females to ease that darkness. Then there you were, like a ray of light getting out of that menace you drive. And all I could do was just move, breathe. I couldn’t think beyond you…”

He brushed her jaw with his thumb. “Saia, I didn't dare take a chance and let you into my life. You saw the danger that follows me. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. I couldn’t. No matter how much I longed for you, I had to leave you alone.”

She bit her lip and stared at the wet, blood-smeared towel in her hands, so badly wanting to believe him.

A low, frustrated growl erupted, he grabbed her around the waist and flipped her onto the bed, face down.

“What are you doing?”
she squeaked, her voice muffled in the sheets.

“I was trying to apologize.” He dragged her to the edge of the mattress and stripped off her underwear. Then yanked her hips up and forced her to her knees, rustling her skirts up to her waist. “I guess I’ll have to show you. I only want you. Just you.”

“Dammit, Riley, let me go.” She didn’t like the thought of her ass exposed in the air, helpless, with her face buried in the covers. Besides, he was hurt. But the glide of his warm, naked chest against her backside as his mouth pressed down on her spine sent goose bumps scattering across her flesh. His hand caressed the curve of her bottom. His lips travelled lower, then a sharp sting on her butt cheek.

“Ouch! Did you just bite me?” She scowled over her shoulder at him.

He didn't answer, just pushed her down into the covers again and spread her knees apart.

“I'm sorry, Saia,” he murmured softly, pressing his lips on the spot he’d bitten.

Deep within her, she understood he wasn't apologizing for the nip. The pain his words had caused at the pavilion faded with this new promise, the cracks in her battered heart healing.

Her Riley was still here. Along with this hard, stunning man, who played her body like a virtuoso. Both were merging in her mind. So how could he say the Riley she’d known didn’t exist? They were both half of the same whole.

He’d always been wicked, but now he was tender, as well.

“Do you want me, Saia?”

“Always.”

At her whispered word, a deep sigh rolled out of him. “Truth is, I don’t think I could have stayed away from you. I should have left that night, yet I stayed…”

She smiled. Glad she wasn't the only one who suffered. “I still would have given you a hard time for hurting me.”

Soft laughter. “I know.” His lips trailed down her backside. The scrape of his day-old facial hair was an erotic caress on her inner thighs as his fingers parted her. He licked around her sensitive clit, then lightly flicked her swollen bundle of nerves with his tongue, sending desire spiraling. Her mind fractured, her thoughts scattering, only aware of what he was doing to her body—aware of his fingers thrusting in and out of her. His mouth covered her clit, he pulled on her flesh with firm, powerful strokes.

Ohhhh
. The bedding muted her cries as pleasure soared, hauling her over the edge.

When she could breathe again, and her heart returned to her chest, she turned her face from the covers. Damp lips brushed the curve of her backside. Saia closed her eyes and waited for him to take her. But he pulled her skirts down again.

Her eyelids flashed open. She looked over her shoulder. “Riley?”

He didn't speak, just shook his head, jaw rigid, the tendons on his neck straining. “We have company.”

What
? Hastily, she sat up, just as a brief rap on the heavy wooden door rang out.

Moments later, it opened, and Wrath strolled into the chamber.

Warily, Saia eyed this being—the Sin of Wrath—who was Riley’s father.

Python green eyes slid to her. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she struggled to calm down. But how could she?

Whenever
he
was around, only bad things happened.

***

Riley could sense Saia’s uneasiness as she pushed to her feet. With her sweet, musky taste still on his tongue, and his body strung taut with need, it drove his control to the brink. He wanted to be wrapped around his mate’s warmth, find his release with her, not face Wrath.

“What do you want?” He ignored the twinging slow-healing wound. A show of weakness wouldn’t help in this instance.

“You’ve had time to do what needed to be done.” Wrath wandered to the window, glanced outside then back at him. “Now, we have other matters to settle.”

“There’s nothing to say. I came here to save Saia. Once this heals,”—he indicated his abs where the damn iron blade had pierced him—“we’re leaving.

“There is the problem of you sending back every guard I sent to protect you.”

“Protect me?” He cut his sire a flat stare. “Do I look like I need your protection? I managed well enough for over a millennium. I need nothing from you. Not then, and certainly not now. If it’s some sudden paternal itch, find another of your offspring to subjugate with your affections. Where is your favored heir, by the way? Shouldn’t you be fawning over Ayperos?”

“You are my heir.” Wrath’s cold eyes swirled with ancient power. “Did you really think you could have killed Móric if you were not my true successor?”

Saia moved closer to him. Riley ran his hand down her back.

“You have lived far too long in the mortal world. It is time you embraced your heritage.”

“Not happening.” Warmth trailed down his belly. He reached for the discarded towel on the bed, one Saia had used. At her wary expression, he realized he didn't want his old man around his mate. She’d suffered from enough parental manipulation. He could fight his own battles.

Knowing Wrath wouldn’t leave until he’d said his piece, Riley swiped at his injury and tossed the cloth aside. Might as well get this meeting over with. He pressed his lips to Saia’s. “I’ll be back.”

He walked out with Wrath following, and headed for the third level, his sire’s domain.

At the end of a dim corridor, Wrath entered the enormous study or the
war room
as Riley used to call it when he was a boy. He glanced around the place with its rugged, charcoal walls.

Amazing. No matter how much time had passed, some things remained the same.

Books cramped the floor-to-ceiling shelves. In the center stood a long table covered with numerous opened scrolls. A shadow moved beside the big-ass desk set in the tower part of the chamber. A dragon-like monster with blackish red scales rose from the floor, its head almost touching the tall, domed ceiling. A snarl rolled from its throat as it sniffed Riley.

One difference now…seemed his old man had acquired a pet. He was probably getting lonely in his old age.

“Quiet, Erogus.”

At Wrath’s low command, a hissing snort erupted, and the monster lay down again. The massive head rested on front paws tipped with lethal talons. Its slitted black eyes watched Riley with distrust.