Te narrowed her dark gaze on Aziza’s, lips firm and voice low. “I wasn’t meant to be a part of this. I study. I watch. I do not participate. But I took an oath to protect you. Words have power, Aziza Jane Stewart. Do not make me regret mine.”
“
You knew
,” Aziza insisted. “And you kept as far away from it as you could. From me. The only thing that tempted you back was my brother’s package. The Niyr don’t strike me as slackers, so what were you hiding from?”
The Niyr hesitated and Aziza snapped her fingers. “Tick-tock, Te. This little barricade of mine won’t last forever.”
Aziza’s eyes widened when she saw Te’s small fists clench at her sides. True emotion at last. Te bit her lip. “I
was
informed of their efforts to acquire you before I was selected to be your Niyr Qarin.”
“Informed by whom?”
Te shook her head. “Unimportant. I knew of the existence of the Jiniyr and of their role in the destruction of the Ammu family line. This is, however, not public knowledge. In fact, were the majority of my people to learn of the existence of such a faction, a voluntary coalition of Jinn and Niyr? Words cannot express the anarchy that would ensue.”
A Niyr anarchy. Aziza chuckled. She imagined it being very…quiet. Sedate. Passionless and bloodless. Like a war of whispers. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” It rang true to her. Felt right. “Not
one of
them
…” Aziza gestured out the window in the direction of the pond she’d just destroyed, “…I mean, one of
them
. A Whisper. Is that what Greg saw in your head? Razia said he wanted your group on his side for some reason. He thought I could make it happen.”
Te blanched. “Show me your hand.”
Aziza did and the girl’s shoulders relaxed when she saw the mark hadn’t faded. “The Whispers of Jibril are followers of an ancient wisdom. Jibril’s wisdom. Watchers of humanity who seek to elevate and evolve the species to our level. Who seek communication. This Razia you saw tonight? They would never follow his violent path. Would never believe you would willingly choose it.”
“You mean
you
would never follow his violent path?”
Te stood up straighter. “
I
would never. I follow the Fireborne. Protect the Fireborne. I gave my oath to my people and now I give it to you. Gregory and I are alike in that way. We never break a promise.”
Aziza nodded thoughtfully. “So, do you promise you will continue to protect Greg and not lead him astray?”
“Lead him astray?” Te wrinkled her small turned-up nose. “I don’t understand.”
One will fall. One will lie. Gregory could be led astray.
Ram had fallen, both in battle and from grace in the eyes of his people. His exile was proof of that. Te had lied and put the people Aziza loved in danger to keep—it seemed—secrets of her own. Te had also been in Greg’s head. Had she put something in their other than Fireborne knowledge? Something that could change him?
And what did she mean, he was
necessary
?
God, she had a headache. From the fire. The power. The guilt of killing someone for the first time, even if he—
it
—deserved it. And now Greg. What part was he supposed to play in all of this? How could she keep him safe?
She shrugged and blew out a rough breath. “You know what, Te?” Her hand reached out and gripped the smaller, softer fingers and she snared the dark gaze with her own. “Thank you.”
Te looked down at Aziza’s hand as if she weren’t used to being touched. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Aziza assured her. “For tonight. You saved him. Whatever the reason, whatever strange study group you belong to, and however wrong you are to think keeping secrets about Razia and his friends is a good idea… That’s all that matters right now.”
Te’s expression softened so subtly Aziza almost missed it. “You should rest, Aziza. Your powers continue to grow, and we still don’t know how your
choice to take more than your share of power will change you. You’ve made more enemies than friends among the Niyr with that decision.”
“They’ll have to get in line.” Aziza smiled. “But I still have my best friend, thanks to you. And Penn is alive, thanks to Ram. I call this a win for the Qarin of the Fireborne.”
Of course, Ram was now powerless, Shev had abandoned them and Te wasn’t ever what he/she/it appeared to be.
“I need a victory drink.”
“Go. I’ll watch over him for you.”
Aziza nodded tiredly. She knew it. She should be beyond pissed at the Niyr but she was just too damned grateful. Te would watch over Greg. And now, if anything happened to him, she’d know exactly who was to blame.
“Fine, but change back into the woman from the other day before he wakes up. Trust me. Greg can only take so much trauma in one night.”
Chapter Thirteen
Aziza tiptoed into her bedroom, wrapped only in a towel that she had to scramble to keep hold of when she saw who was sitting on her bed. “Brandon?”
Her first thought was that he’d found something to cover himself up with, a pair of black sweatpants that ended at his calves. They must belong to Greg. She noticed he hadn’t bothered to look for a shirt. “Is everything okay?”
He laughed softly and shook his head. “Close the door, Aziza.”
She did, leaning back against it while she clung to the damp towel. “Big night.”
“Big night,” he agreed, watching her with that hungry golden gaze that always drove her crazy. Made her hot. “I think we should talk.”
“Thinking
and
talking?” Aziza shifted uncomfortably, tossing him a saucy smile as she dropped her towel and walked over to the dresser. Opening the top drawer, she pulled out a pair of fire-engine-red undies. “Is anyone else thinking tonight? Not Penn and Hillary…” she chuckled, thinking about the reason she’d been walking down the hall so quietly in the first place, “…not Greg or Ram, but they’re both knocked out cold, so that’s not a fun comparison.”
“About Ram.” Brandon’s voice was gritty with desire as he watched her slowly step into her underwear. “I know he was with you.”
She was bent over provocatively, pulling up the clinging fabric, when she stilled at his words. “With me?”
Oh God, she didn’t want to have that conversation tonight. He knew what Ram had done to her in the stables. Knew what she’d let him do while Brandon was… Oh hell.
“On the roof,” he continued, standing suddenly to walk over to her bedroom window. “When I sensed those things—Razia and Harash, you called them—I knew I needed Devil’s help. I could feel you, Aziza. With Ram. What happened? Where is his partner? Their laws allow a perverse amount of latitude, so I’m hoping you can explain what he could have done to be exiled. Did he threaten you in some way? Did he put you in danger?”
The roof? Not the stables?
He was talking about the roof.
She shouldn’t be this relieved. She should tell him.
Not tonight.
She wouldn’t be able to stand it if, after all they’d been through, he left tonight.
“No.” She finished pulling up her underwear and walked toward him, pressing her body against his hot back, shivering when her nipples hardened as they grazed his skin. “For tonight, all you need to know is he risked his life to save Penn.” She thought of Shev’s words. “Risked his soul. Can you stop hating them long enough to see that
he
, at least, did something good?”
He turned in her arms, groaning as her nipples scraped his side, and reached down to gather her hair in his hands, cupping her head. “I’m not sure. Even for you, I don’t know if I can. They don’t do things without a reason, usually one that benefits them somehow. The Shiners, the Jinn—they don’t think the way we do.”
“If you don’t stop talking like a bigoted werewolf,” she whispered, suddenly needing him more than she needed to take her next breath, “I won’t let you throw me on this bed and shove your big, thick cock in my—”
He kissed her. Passionately. Desperately. With all the worry and wildness, all the helpless need she could feel inside herself. Then he lifted his mouth and tossed her on the bed. “How can such a sweet, innocent face have such a filthy mouth?”
“I’m a complicated woman.” She caught her breath, smiling up at him. “I drink. I swear. I catch fire. But I think you like it.”
He pushed down his borrowed sweatpants and stepped out of them, climbing onto the bed as if he were a jaguar hunting for his evening meal.
No. A wolf.
“I love it,” he murmured as he trapped her body between his strong arms. “Everything about you, Aziza. Especially your mouth.”
He kissed her again, reaching for her hands to pull them over her head. He wrapped the fingers of one hand around her wrists, holding her down and leaving his other hand free.
She tore her mouth away from his and laughed. “Am I about to be interrogated again? You know I love the way you do that.”
“I don’t need to anymore.” He slid his free hand between their bodies, slipping his thick fingers past her curls and into her wet sex. “This body will tell me anything I want to know.”
“Yes.” She bucked against his hand, pushing his fingers deeper, rocking against his hand. “But you can still pretend to interrogate me every once in a while. Anything you want.”
He pulled away from her long enough to drag her only scrap of clothing off her body and toss it on the floor, one arm still stretched to hold her down. He growled, his white teeth glinting like fangs, his eyes brilliant with need.
“What I want?” He spread her legs with his thighs and slid his cock through the lips of her sex, coating himself with her arousal. Teasing her. “I want it all, Aziza.”
He slipped his hand under her thigh and lifted it until her knee was nearly touching her shoulder, baring her to his gaze. “I want that smart mouth and this sweet pussy.”
The head of his erection pushed inside her and lingered. Teasing her. God, she wanted him deeper. She needed him to move. “Anything,” she moaned.
His hard, thick length filled her and she cried out in pleasure, heedless of the other people in the house. “Brandon, yes.”
He leaned down until his lips were pressed against her ear. “I want my name on your lips. I want that tight ass. Want you begging to be filled every night. By me. Only me. I want this body to be mine. Every bit of it. To know you’re safe and that you belong to me.”
“Please,” she begged, so aroused by his raw words as he rocked inside her that she could hardly speak. “Please, Brandon. Please fuck me.”
His hips began to power against her, his cock stretching her as he deepened his thrusts. “Yes, Aziza.” He moaned. “I’ll fuck you, love. I’ll love you. Claim—”
His words broke off with a shout when the first wave of her climax tightened the muscles of her sex around him. Heat. Desire. Her body was burning with it. Alive. God, she couldn’t take it. His words, his body inside hers. Every time he touched her it was better. More.
She wanted to be his in every way.
“Baby, I need you,” he growled. “Need to feel it again. Need to make you mine.”
He pulled out of her with a groan and released her wrists, turning her shaking body over until she was facedown on the bed. He got to his knees and gripped her hips, dragging her up to join him.
Yes.
“Oh God,” she cried, her throat raspy with desire. She knew what he wanted to hear. “Yes. Please. I need it, Brandon. Need you.”
“You need it,” he agreed, his voice garbled and guttural with excitement. “You’re dying for it, aren’t you, my greedy Aziza? For me. Only for me. For this.”
She breathed out, her mouth open on a silent scream as he pushed past her resistant muscles and filled her ass with a forceful thrust. Her conqueror. Her wild enforcer. And she would give it all. Anything he wanted. Anything, as long as he never stopped.
“It’s mine,” he muttered hotly. “All this fire. All this heat. It’s mine. I’ll never get enough. Never stop. Fuck, Aziza, you feel so good.”
She buried her face in the mattress to muffle her screams of pleasure and pain, to soak up her tears as the two sensations combined to overwhelm her and send her over the edge. His hand reached around her body, his fingers caressing her clit as he continued his deep, commanding thrusts. This was what she needed. He was what she needed.
And just like that she was coming again. An explosion of sensation.
No fire
, she moaned to herself, careful of him, even as she lost every other coherent thought.
No fire. No thinking. Just feeling.
Flying.
He called her name and his thrusts lost their rhythm, his hips pounding against hers helplessly as he came inside her. “Aziza, baby. My Aziza.”
Shaking, he collapsed beside her and pulled her into his arms, his feet still dangling off the side of the bed. “How do you do that?”
She was still trembling too, her limbs weak and lethargic when she lifted herself up to look at him. “Do what?”
Brandon smiled tenderly, burying his face in her neck for a moment to scratch her playfully with his beard. “Make me lose control. Drive me wild. I can’t seem to resist you. Is it a Fireborne ability? One of your gifts?”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully, loving the light in his eyes. “No. I think it’s my smart mouth and sweet pussy. You’ve mentioned them once or twice before. Although after the last few days, I’m beginning to think another part of my anatomy is your true favorite.”
His bark of surprised laughter made her smile.
“Am I wrong, Wolfman?”
Sobering, he lifted his hand to her face, pushing her damp hair off her cheek. “It’s you, Aziza. All of you. Down to the last pale freckle.”
She stared at him for a long moment, allowing herself to savor this. To feel this overwhelming contentment, to care about him and accept that she wanted to be with him—as long as she could. She wouldn’t think about tomorrow. Wouldn’t think about how impossible it was. Thinking wasn’t her style anyway.
She wasn’t sure of many things, but here? In his arms? She was sure of him. “Ditto, Copper.”
He sat up, looking down at her. “We should talk about my father. About Natalie. He’ll demand to—”