The Sanction (12 page)

Amarinda’s cries were loud and
unnerving. She heard the definite slam of the door, felt the heat
of the fire as he added tinder there. She would never again be
welcomed in the Coven, would never again see love shine from her
fathers’ face. Her decision to stay had wounded them deeply. What
madness had compelled her to choose him? What had she done? To
betray the Coven, the Elder, was an act of treason! Grasping, she
struggled to contain her panicked breaths and failed
miserably.

“
Stop weeping,” he said
gruffly. “You are safe – the babe is safe. Why do you cry
so?”

She buried her face in her hands and
curled into a tight ball. He kicked off his boots. Amarinda heard
them hit the cold floor. When the strength of his arms snaked
around her to pull her close, she had not the resolve to move away.
He smelled comforting, and the security she felt locked against his
massive chest vanquished the demons that threatened to snatch her
reason.

For a long time, neither of them
exchanged words. Amarinda’s cries died to nothing but a sniffle.
She exhaled and shuddered exhaustedly, then turned to face him. The
dancing firelight cast his profile in planes and shadows. His eyes
locked on hers. Everything within her felt vulnerable. He had
offered her sanctuary. Before his men and the Hunters, he had
referred to her as his mate. A light of hope ignited in her chest,
and was stomped out just as quickly – he had said nothing of
marking her. Eyes swollen, her gaze was cast aside.

“
My family hates me. I am
embarrassment to my race…I can never return to them.” Her voice was
hoarse. He grunted in agreement. “I have lost
everything.”

Ever so slightly, his grip tightened.
Amarinda stiffened. There was no use in denying the obvious – she
was in love with him. She was bound to him, not only because of
their mating, but because of the tender moments they shared –
moments like this one, when all that mattered was his touch and his
listening ear. Still, she was no fool. He had made it clear that
she was nothing more than a means to an end.

When at last she took hold of her
raging emotions, she pulled away from his touch. He allowed her
escape, and did not move. “The Council will not forgive you for
what you have done.”

He snorted. “They would have brought
war to my doorstep anyway. The battle was inevitable.”

“
Still, you risk much for
me.”

“
For you?” His brows
furrowed, even as he snickered in arrogance. “As far as I am
concerned, the vampires have already been defeated. They are
without a handful of their precious Hunters and still you are here
in my bed, carrying my offspring - a victory no battle could have
ever accomplished.”

Amarinda looked away in humiliation.
Everything within her wanted to belong to him, but he would never
mark her, and the motive behind why he offered her asylum was
intended to hurt her family even more. She sank her teeth into her
quivering lip and glanced at him over a shoulder. He considered her
in silence, intently. She looked away, building the courage to
speak. Her life was no longer about existing without her mate, but
protecting the growing babe in her womb.

“
When the child is born,
what is to become of me?”

“
You will stay here and see
to its needs, of course.” His tone booked no room for arguments. He
considered her well.

She nibbled her lip and jutted her chin
forward bravely. “How can you guarantee my protection against the
horde after such a time has come?”

“
No one knows that you are
here.”

“
There is bound to be talk.
Your men present tonight -”

“
Will lose their heads if I
hear any rumors.”

“
I cannot be kept locked
away forever. The child cannot be kept in a prison.”

“
When did I mention being
‘locked away’?” He grew irritable.

Still, she pressed. “How else are we to
live here without being butchered? My scent will return the moment
the babe is born. And what if the Hunters wage war before that?
What will you tell your people when they look to you for an
explanation?”

His eyes lowered dangerously. “Do not
concern yourself with how I govern the masses. I told you that you
will be kept safe. You have to trust me.”

“
Trust you?” Her voice
pitched then, in hurt, in anger and in frustration. She sat erect
and sank her fingers into the sheets in an attempt to curb the urge
to slap his face. “Trust you, after you used me like a whore and
planted a seed inside of me?” He clenched his jaw tightly and
stood, his back turned as he made his way to the door. Amarinda
followed viciously. “Trust you, after you refuse to bind yourself
to me although you are my mate? Trust you, after you demanded a
hundred heads from my own Coven?” He reached for the door. She
slammed her fists into his back. “Trust you, when all you care
about is hurting those I love? Tell me mongrel, why I should trust
you!”

“
You want a reason to trust
me?!” he snarled, spinning to face her so quickly that she stumbled
back. His fingers sank into her arms when he pulled her against his
hard frame. Lips as hard as steel crushed hers. In agony she
struggled, hating the tears that spilled from her eyes to be
captured upon her abused tongue. There was nothing coaxing and
tender about his touch. It was meant to subdue, to punish. The
clothes were ripped from her back. She cried out in pain, in fear.
His hands were larger, covered in a layer of hair, nails long and
clawed.

“
No!” Her hand connected
with his face in a definite crack. Undeterred, he shoved her
brutally. She gripped at her tattered dress and tripped on the hem.
The floor rushed up to meet her. Derriere stinging almost as much
as the pain in her chest, Amarinda’s eyes flamed sliver. Primal
rage engulfed her. From the time she could walk, her mother had
instilled in her what it meant to be, not just a woman, but a lady.
It was part of who she was. But living with this beast for over a
month had taught her that sometimes, a lady just could not get a
task accomplished.

He made to fall upon her, and the
moment he attempted to pin her hands to the floor, her foot
connected with his chest and sent him soaring back. He landed on
his feet well enough, claws used as a grip upon the stone floor
even as he slid back. She was on her feet at once. The rest of the
dress was stripped away. Let him come, she thought in fury. She
knew she could not defeat him. Her experience in battle came from
instinct and whatever basic skill her brother had decided to amuse
her with in her younger years. Still, she wanted to impart
injury.

He got to his feet slowly, his face now
giving way to the beast she had seen earlier. The sight of him
thus, fully Were, made the heat of her blood burn, but not from
rage. That she could desire him after all he had done disgusted her
to no small degree.

“
Do you really want to play
rough Amarinda?” he growled. His voice came from somewhere deep
within his stomach. Fire shot through her. She suppressed a shudder
and strengthened her resolve.

“
This is no game,
dog!”

He lifted his head and sniffed with a
purpose, then leered. “You reek of mating.”

Humiliation forced her to flush; still,
she refused to look away. “I often wonder if all Weres are good for
a rump. I will be sure to sample the lot when I am through with
you!”

Eyes glinting coldly, the smile left
his face. “You will never be through with me. We are
mated.”

Bitter laughter hung heavy between
them. “Mated? I think not mongrel. You are marked – I am not. Who
exactly, is mated to whom?”

When he moved, she did not know, but
one moment he was across the room, and the next his nose was almost
pressed upon hers. The heavy breaths he took stirred the hair that
had fallen into her face. She considered attacking again, but the
length of his upper and lower canines that gently protruded from
between parted lips numbed her stiff.

“
Do not take license with
your tongue leech, for I am sorely tempted to put a mark on you
that will leave you with no doubt as to whom you belong
to.”

Her courage near evaporated then. There
was only murder in his eyes. “If you hurt me, you will do nothing
but confirm everything I have said,” she braved tremulously. It was
a miracle he understood the almost inaudible words, for he paused.
Slowly, his features changed.

“
You are brimming with
wisdom tonight, are you not?” he mocked. She exhaled. Her heart had
fallen somewhere at the base of her stomach during their exchange.
She fought to replace it quickly, but she was too late. Already he
pressed her body with his and forced her to step back until the
back of her knees connected with the bed. She gasped and lifted her
fists to his chest. His fingers locked around her wrists brutally.
The message was clear – she could accept his gentle advance, or be
forced to submit to his violence. “But it is not my intent to hurt
you, leech. That is not my intent at all…”

Somehow, his fingers found the moisture
between her thighs. Amarinda was forced to surrender yet again.
Legs limp, she fell back. His weight crushed her into the downy
mattress. No! No! No! No! Not again! Hot tears swamped her eyes. He
did not love her! He did not want her! Each time she gave of
herself, he took another part of her with him, and gave nothing in
return save a moment of rapture. Struggling, she shook her head in
defeat. He locked her beneath him with irons hands. A pulse
throbbed at her center.

Dominance.

That is what he portrayed. And damn it
all, there was nothing more she wanted than to surrender. As if
reading her mind, he forced her legs apart. The rigid tip of his
member sought entry. She shifted her hips in defiance.

Something akin to a smile brushed his
lips, and he slipped a masterful hand between their bodies. The
strum of his fingers shattered her, and in that moment, he plunged
violently. She pushed him away one moment and pulled him close the
next, all the while battling with the emotions warring within her
chest and the pleasure he brought her. His lips demanded hers,
forcing her to give what she swore she would not. His touch was
everywhere, stoking the flames that threatened to engulf her, and
when at last she shattered, he rode with her on the waves of
ecstasy with growls of pleasure and male pride. Shuddering,
vulnerable, she felt each pulse of his desire when he too, was
pushed over the edge.

His forehead pressed to hers, Amarinda
could not look at him. He kissed her upon the lips once, twice. She
did not respond. His teasing nip was sharp and demanded a reaction.
She hissed in pain.

“
Do not ignore me,” he said,
and kissed her again. She responded in kind. He rocked his hips
forward, still buried deep within her. When he lifted his head, it
was to remove strands of hair from her flushed face.

Amarinda’s face remained resigned when
she finally spoke. “I am leaving come spring.”

He froze. His burnt honey eyes
instantly iced over. “And exactly how do you plan to do
that?”

She turned away. “By walking through
the gates.”

His boom of laughter was as dry as her
throat. “You cannot leave.”

“
And who will stop
me?”

“
I will not have you walk
back into the same Coven who will -”

“
I am not going
home.”

“
I do not care where you
think you will go. You are not leaving.”

“
Am I a prisoner again?” She
sniffed in disgust. “I chose to return; therefore I can choose to
leave.” He chuckled softly and rolled away, casually locking his
hands behind his head. Amarinda sat up and held the furs against
her breasts. There was a relaxed, almost smug look on his face.
“Did you not hear what I just said? I am leaving the first day of
spring.”

His eyes were closed lightly, a cold
little smile on his face. “We shall see.”

She huffed and turned away, her back
toward him. Did he not take her serious? Did he think she would
stay, to allow him to use her continually, to use their child as
leverage against the Coven?

“
If you leave me, I will
hunt you down, catch you, and bring you back. Do not waste both our
time.” His voice lacked all warmth.

“
I do not want to stay here
any longer than I have to.”

“
You will stay for as long
as I tell you.”

“
No.”

She felt him move suddenly. With gentle
fingers, he swept the mass of hair from her neck. Something
rumbled, a snarl, a growl, she did not know, and before she could
turn to see his intent, pain blinded her. Sharp teeth breeched the
tender flesh of her neck and drew blood there. Paralyzed, she cried
out in agony. He drew blood until she weakened, until her body fell
limp against his form. His tongue stroked the wound carefully,
tenderly. Beneath the stain of blood, the scars of his bite, of his
mark, would never fade. Vision blurred from blood-loss, she found
his intense gaze.

“
That is your reason to
trust me. Now we are both mated. You are mine and you’re not going
anywhere.”