:A
thousand,:
he replied wryly, taking the sting out of his words
by rubbing his mouth softly against hers.
:Then
I should have gone to Rhaekhar and let him act as First since I obviously
failed to assist you.:
Ashamed at her own annoying inhibitions
despite the love for these warriors welling in her heart, she sat up and pulled
in her legs so Jorarh could come closer.
:You
were young, barely a warrior, Dharman. I shouldn’t have been so inconsiderate
for so very long.:
Aloud, she said, “Forgive me, Jorah. If
I had the ivory
rahke
, I’d lay it on
the bed between us.”
“There’s no need,” he replied, his voice
thickening now that his dream was at hand. “You gave me more than enough blood
earlier, although I’ll give you every drop in my body if you want it.”
“Take off your
memsha
.”
Immediately, he tugged the red cloth
free of his hips and tossed it aside. “What may I do?”
His bond blazed molten gold like his
hair, his gaze a physical touch that awakened her skin. She wanted to push him
flat and rub her face against his sun-kissed skin to see if he smelled as good
as he had earlier.
Later
, she
reminded herself.
This first time’s for
him.
“Anything my First says you may.”
The surge in Dharman’s bond told her
she’d pleased him well with that comment. He gave a command to Sal and her
gingerbread Blood slipped off the bed. Lightly, he traced the ring his teeth
had left on the swelling curve of her breast. She let her head fall back and
groaned, trembling as heat pooled in his mark. “Don’t deliberately touch her
marks and don’t put your mark upon her. Otherwise, what do you want?”
Jorah’s gaze slid down her belly to
between her thighs. “I want to feel her release under my tongue, I want to come
inside her, and I want her to mark me anywhere she desires.”
“Agreed.”
She’d told him to be First, but this was
entirely too heavy handed. “Wait a minute. I—”
Dharman closed his lips over hers on a
low rumble of appreciation.
:I thank you
for allowing me to handle the negotiations.:
Which diffused her prickly
pride, as he’d intended, until he added,
:Allow
me to handle the Black Dragon likewise to ensure your safety.:
:I
am entirely capable of protecting myself. Need I remind you?:
:Nay,
Shannari, I know very well your skill.:
He kissed her harder,
a fierce edge gleaming in his bond like steel, and pushed her back to lie on
the mattress. His tongue stroked deep, his fingers digging into her chin,
gripping too hard.
As
though he’s afraid he’ll lose me.
Bad enough she’d held him away at arm’s
length so long; now he feared she’d let him glimpse heaven in her bed only to
replace him with the desert
tal
.
:In
the Tenth Camp, Rhaekhar is First. Anywhere else, you are. My heart will never
change.:
Breathing hard, he released her bruised
lips and pressed his forehead to hers. Despair darkened his bond and he
trembled against her. He hated not being able to provide every single thing she
could ever desire.
:Are you sure?
Whatever the Black did has strengthened his bond. He scares you, yet you relish
that threat of danger. I can love you as hard as you desire, but it will always
be love, not danger.:
She gave him a firm shake through his bond.
:Rhaekhar was not Gregar either, and you
know how much I love him. I love you the same. You’re not Rhaekhar. You’re not
Gregar. You’re my one and only First Blood for all time. When I invite anyone
else to my bed, you’ll always be First, until we ride together with Rhaekhar
and Gregar once more. You’re mine in a way no one else could ever be.:
Relief flooded his bond, followed by a
crashing wave of determined arrogance. It amused and touched her at the same
time. Lady above, he was still so young, a fierce young stallion determined to
stake his territory.
:Aye, I am yours,
always and forever. Now make Jorah yours too.:
He must have signaled the other Blood to
wait, although she hadn’t seen it. Poor Jorah. His bond crackled with heat hot
enough to melt stone into lava.
Dharman kissed her, gently this time,
and then moved to her neck.
:Look at
him.:
She raised her head enough to look down
her body at the golden Blood waiting patiently on his hands and knees. Not so
patiently, actually, for his shoulders strained, his neck corded, and sweat
trickled down his face.
:Why
are you making him wait?:
:I
never gave any order denying him,:
Dharman replied.
:He waits for you.:
As soon as her attention focused on him,
Jorah slowly lowered himself toward her splayed thighs. Her heart kicked into
high speed, but he merely hovered, breathing loudly.
“Jorah?”
“So many times I smelled your scent and
I ached with every muscle in my body to bury my nose here and breathe. I
wondered if I would ever touch you, ever smell your roses and know that need
was for me.” Ever so lightly, he dropped soft kisses on her mound. “I want you
all over me, but this time I won’t let Sal steal one drop, and I’m not stopping
until you make that sound.”
“What sound?”
His only answer was a light flick of his
tongue. For a warrior in his prime who’d been lusting after her for years, he
certainly had a great deal of control. After a few moments of torturous
butterfly kisses and glancing brushes of his tongue, she fisted her hands in
his hair and dragged him in close.
He made a deep, rumbling sound of
pleasure and rubbed deeper.
:At last.:
He didn’t lick so much as rub his face,
burying his nose as he’d threatened until she didn’t know how he could possibly
breathe. She let him suffocate himself for awhile, and then she tugged his hair
until his mouth settled just so.
By the pulse of dark amusement in his
bond, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. So then, would she. She wrapped her
hands tighter in his hair and tilted her hips, rolling against his mouth to
create her own rhythm. He slid his palms beneath her buttocks, lifting her fuller
against his mouth, using his broad shoulders to force her legs farther apart.
Spread beneath his tongue, she felt the spiraling tension begin. Breathing
faster, she squirmed against his hold, straining to reach the perfect spot.
He growled against her, the vibration
sending delicious shivers down her spine. Shifting his grip around to her
thighs, he pinned her flat and sucked her flesh into his mouth to work it with
his teeth. Her breath caught, her heart pounding, muscles winching tighter
until she shuddered. Now he feasted like a starving man, dragging his tongue
deep to wring every spasm and cry out of her.
Wrapping another length of his hair
around her fist, she hauled him up and made a low, desperate sound of need.
“That sound.” He came up her body in a
rush, his face tight, his breathing labored. “Forgive me,
na’lanna
, Shannari, I cannot wait.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she
didn’t want him to wait, but he began to slide inside and her breath caught in
her throat. So thick, he took her breath away. Despite the wildfire blazing in
his bond, he paused, jaws clenched, and glanced down into her face.
Arching her back, she pushed him deeper
and let out another shaking, rough cry that he’d wanted to hear so badly.
“Don’t stop.”
“Say it, just once, please,” he panted.
She knew exactly what he wanted to hear.
After all these years, all he wanted to know was that she loved him. “
Na’lanna.
”
Groaning, he surged deeper, shifting his
hips back and forth to work himself inside her. She clawed at his back and let
out a wordless yell that likely rattled the glass in the windows.
She gripped his shoulder in her teeth,
biting deeper to mark him as he’d asked. With another thrust, he came on a yell
of his own. Shaking, he collapsed, deliberately off to the side to spare his
weight, but his hands fluttered down her face, neck, and stomach, as though
afraid to land a deeper caress.
As though
he doesn’t have the right.
She made a deliberate point to take his
hand and pressed his palm firmly over her heart while she cuddled into his
side. Dharman wrapped his arms around her and claimed her back, as he always
did. Sal crept closer, hovering at the edge of the bed, but he didn’t join
them. He hadn’t been invited.
Closing her eyes, she cast out her
senses across the land she protected with her blood. Far to the west, she felt
the Keldari’s advance through Far Illione. They were still at least a day away.
She’d sent messengers to Allandor and the Sha’Kae al’Dan. All she could do was
hope her allies arrived soon enough to avoid a siege of Shanhasson. At least
the size of the Keldari army was greatly reduced, so not everything had been
lost on the Great Seal.
She certainly had enough time to
eliminate her Blood’s fears that they would die without ever knowing her love.
The black snake coiled its slithering
lengths deeper in her mind. No, she couldn’t call the black bond a snake any
longer. It had grown to a dragon, not quite as large as the one in her dreams,
but definitely bigger, stronger, and more solidly anchored in her mind.
She didn’t know what Given meant,
exactly, but it had great significance to him.
:It
means my heart beats in time to yours, brightheart.:
The dragon made a purring sound, rubbing its triangular head and long sinuous
neck through her. Dharman’s breath stilled, his bond coming to full alert.
:It means once I give you my kiss and my
body, then I’ll be bound to you even tighter than your Reds.:
It would almost be worth giving him
blood so she could warn him off directly with her words. Dharman twitched with
alarm behind her, his arms squeezing her so tightly she could barely breathe.
She had to make do with shoving at the Black’s bond with her power,
deliberately freezing him with the same punishing ice she’d carried in her
heart so long after Rhaekhar’s death.
:Why
these threats, brightheart? You’re safer than ever from me. Don’t you
understand? My heart is yours. Merely tell me to stop breathing and I will.
There’s nothing I can do to protect myself any longer. If your heart ceases to
beat, mine will too.:
Instead of fear or anger from him at
such a development in their war, though, she felt only smugness. She pushed
harder, deliberately wielding ice to cut and wound that smiling beast curled
inside her.
:Ah,
my love, indeed, I come to you as quickly as possible.:
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
SHIVERING,
MYKAL CLUTCHED HIS DAMP
TAAMID
TO HIS
CHEST. Pain wracked his body as though the moon was trying to eat him from the
inside out. Or perhaps it was the White Dragon. Opal light blazed inside him,
spread by that holy water she’d dumped on him. If he opened his mouth, he’d
glow as though he’d swallowed the moon.
Fever or dream, he wasn’t sure, but he
walked on red sands. The moon hung low and full above, casting so much light it
might as well have been day.
I
have a purpose.
Weight dragged at his left hand until he
staggered off balance. The dull black ring throbbed. Pain stabbed through the
small digit and black spider webs spread beneath his skin. Not scales, but
lines of foulest black, racing up his arm, searing with acidic hate. He clawed
at the lines, trying to stop the spread. He ripped at the ring that rooted deep
in his flesh, but it was too late.
It had always been too late for him.
The black lines crashed into his heart,
burrowed into his mind like worms, and writhed beneath his skin like snakes.
Foul, so foul, there was nothing he could do to stop it. The lines pulsed,
sucking at his soul. Memories fluttered through his mind like tumbleweed,
racing, random, until he wasn’t even sure that they were his.
She
stared at him across a table, her eyes wide with horror.
She spat water on him and his face
exploded with sizzling fire as though he’d fallen into the Venom Lake.
He sat with her enemies, plotting and
courting them against her. He even tried to poison her, just a test, he’d told
himself, sure that she would never succumb so easily.
Somma
forgive me
, he wept.
She’ll
always hate me.
As he stumbled across the dunes, his
body wasted, feeding those black veins until he was a skeleton of bone, bits of
leathered skin, and most ridiculous of all, his hair long enough to tumble past
his knees. In all his lifetimes, he’d never had such hair, but it felt right
and good. Here in the blasted sands of Keldar, such hair meant he’d never lost
a battle. He’d never been dishonored.
How long had it been since he could say
such a thing?