Soulbound (25 page)

Eliza sat up, her mouth agape. Still he would not face her. With a cold hand, she turned him toward her. Defiance was there in his gaze, and regret.

“Less than,” she repeated, shaking. She ought not to care. Why, then did she feel let down?

“Aye,” he said with clear reluctance. “I gave your body life anew, but you cannot roam in spirit. Nor are you immortal.” He winced once again. “You can die, Eliza.”

Eliza rose from his lap, her legs stiff, her chest aching. He let her go, tracking her movements but not standing. He simply sat upon the dirt, regal as a king, and waited for her ire. Well, he would have it.

“You made me vulnerable to death so you could hold the promise of life over me, didn’t you?”

A bare nod. “That I did.”

The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth before she realized she’d bitten her lip. A rough laugh tore from her. “Oh, well played, sir. And you accuse the fae of being manipulative. Forgive me if I choke on the hypocrisy.”

Adam sighed, but he did not try to defend himself. Which made it worse. She wanted his fight. Wanted to hate him. Because she felt too much for him now. The thought of needing him terrified her.

Her feet slapped over the cold, hard earth as she paced away from him before whirling back. “I’d call you a rotten bastard, but what difference would it make?”

“Would you rather I had made you GIM?” he asked with quiet earnestness.

“I’d rather you had not used me as a pawn. I’ve had enough of that in my life.”

Still as a lion, he blinked at her. “I told you, Eliza, you were the answer to all my hopes and dreams, to my freedom. I would have done anything to safeguard it. That I went about it the wrong way cannot change the past.”

“And now?” she snapped. “Is all this” – she waved a hand between them – “kindness and care merely another bid to secure my affection?” God, he’d been succeeding. Far too well.

His body was moving grace as his long limbs unfolded and he stood tall before her. The breadth of his shoulders blotted out the moon, leaving him limned in silvery light. “Truth, Eliza?”

She nodded, and he took a step closer. Beneath thick, straight brows his gaze burned. “In truth, I want you so badly, the mere thought of you is a hand around my cock.”

A strangled sound left her, but he wasn’t finished. “I want to sink into your quim and call it home. To learn the taste and texture of your skin, and then do it all over again. Is it because you are my soul mate? I do not know. I bloody well don’t care. All I know is that I want this ache” – his fist hit the wall of his chest with a thud – “this need to abate. Will bedding you quench my thirst? I cannot tell you, but I’ll gladly put that question to the test.”

The way he looked at her, so fierce and angry yet pleading, it licked over her skin like fire. He was too far away. And too close. She wanted to ease his tension, to rub her hands over those broad shoulders and down his bunched biceps. And she wanted to escape. He’d manipulated her, left her vulnerable to his will, all for his own selfish gain.

She took one step, and her foot sank into a pile of something soft and loamy. Eliza gave a start and glanced down. The substance was dark grey and scattered as her foot disrupted it.

“What…”

Adam blanched, his hand reaching out to draw her away from the mess. “Ashes. Fae.”

Eliza shuddered. God, and it was all over her feet. She rubbed her soles over the grass, her skin creeping. “There was a fae here?”

“A male.” Adam’s voice was as tight as his grip on her elbow.

She closed her eyes for a moment. A blur of images went through her mind. Love. She’d been surrounded by love and adoration. Cool brushes of air. It had been the spirits. They’d done her bidding. In her mind’s eye, she saw Adam in danger, his face frozen in horror as he stared at her. Eliza’s eyes snapped open. “I killed him.”
For you.

His chest lifted on a deep breath. And when he faced her, wariness and dread darkened his golden eyes. “You may not have been able to kill the supernatural before, dove.” His expressive lips pinched. “But tonight, you commanded the dead to kill for you.”

I
f someone had once told Eliza that hell would be found in a quaint and cozy country cottage, she would have laughed. Now it was all she could do not to cry. The cream plaster walls pressed in on her, while the rough-hewn timbers supporting the ceiling seemed to sag as if they’d break at any moment. Flights of fancy. As was the feeling of her bed being made not of fine feathers but hard rocks. Yet she could not find peace from her restless, hateful mood.

She’d killed a supernatural being tonight. If she closed her eyes, she could replay the events. The power, the mad laughter that wracked her body. It had felt so very…
good
. As if she’d waited the whole of her life to embrace the full extent of her power and use it.

Stranger still, in the midst of that tempest, at the very moment she’d turned and met the fae’s eyes, she’d thought of one thing: to protect. The fae had been poised to kill Adam. Did her defense of Adam make it right? She could hardly think it so. Nor did that excuse her from all that she’d done before. Was she evil? How could she deny it in the face of all the evidence?

Stifling a groan, Eliza pressed the cool tips of her fingers against her eyelids until red spots danced before her in the dark. She wanted Adam here. She wanted him to hold her, despite the anger she felt in learning yet another of his machinations against her. But that was in the past, and she’d promised him a new start.

Aodh MacNiall, now Adam of the GIM, had stolen her peace and shattered her illusions. He rested in the room beyond, a mere closed door away. No longer could she deny it; she felt better when she was with him, settled and right, in the same manner she’d experienced when using her power. Away from him, an uncomfortable tugging started within her breast and lower belly, as though he chained her still and was constantly pulling her back to him.

With a curse, she whipped back the covers and left her bed. Cold air chilled her overheated skin, and her feet slapped against the icy floor.
Do not think. Act. Simply act.

So great was her intent to get to him that, when she opened the door, she nearly barreled right into him. She stopped short, her nightgown swaying about her legs. He’d halted as well, his hand still up as though preparing to knock. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, and then he slowly lowered his hand.

“What is it?” Eliza whispered, searching his face. Her fingers twitched with the urge to stroke the corded muscles that ran along the thick column of his neck, now exposed by the loose edge of his collar.

“You know,” he said in a soft, yet rough voice, “I cannot recall the excuse I’d made up to come to you.”

Everything inside her stuttered to a halt, her breath, the blood in her veins. She stared at him, her mouth surely hanging open, and his lush lips quirked with self-deprecation. “Aye, I know you’re cross with me just now, and I’ve no true reason to bother you, Eliza May, save the fact that I cannot stay away.” His gaze grew slumberous, lowering to her lips, even as the strong lines of his shoulders grew tense. “I need to be near you, if only to know that you are well, or I become a man unmoored.”

Slowly, as if he feared she’d bolt, he raised his hand. Eliza’s lids fluttered, her body swaying towards him when the warm, callused tips of his fingers traced the curve of her cheek. His deep voice came to her as from a distance. “Whether you believe in soul mates or not, I think of you as my other half. The better half. And I am not whole unless I am with you.”

Shaking deep within herself, Eliza drew in a sharp breath. He saw the movement, and his hand dropped. With a wince, Adam straightened. “Ah, well. It’s clear you are well enough. I’ll no’ bother you a moment more.” He moved to step back.

Unacceptable. Eliza caught his fingers with hers. He was so warm, solid, even with the tenuous grasp she had on him. And he stilled, his expression one of granite as he watched her. Oh, but those golden eyes of his shown with fragile hope and dark curiosity.

She couldn’t speak, her mouth dry as crust as she held on to him and backed into her room. He waited until their arms were outstretched before taking that first step with her. His eyes never left her as he quietly followed her. And Eliza’s heart beat a strong, nearly painful tattoo against her breast. Its fearful rhythm quickened as she drew to a halt by the bed tucked against the wall.

Adam’s slow, deep breaths mingled with her lighter ones as they gazed at each other. He did not move, but remained alert and watchful. Waiting, it seemed, for her to tell him what she wanted.

“Stay with me.” Her plea came out so thick and low that it was a wonder he heard it.

But he did. He gave a sharp nod.

She couldn’t look at him as she crawled back into the bed, now cool and far too small. She had lain with others, men that, despite working for Mellan, had been kind to her. Those acts had been impersonal, born from a basic need to feel something other than numb fear. But Eliza had never felt true desire, the desperate need to simply touch a man or the utter craving to feel a man moving inside of her. Until this man.

In truth, she could barely believe that she wanted Adam. She’d resented him for so long, been afraid of him, of her intense reaction to the very person who’d disregarded her feelings. But it was different now. Everything was different.

The covers rustled as he slipped in, the mattress dipping. But he did not lie down. Instead, he peered at her, his gaze roving over her body before meeting her eyes. This man, the way he looked at her, looked into her, it undid her every time.

Eliza leaned back against the pillows, her nipples tight beneath her flannel gown. And when he reached out, her breath caught. The tip of his finger brushed against the crystal clock lying in the hollow of her throat, and an almost melancholic expression graced his face.

“Will you tell me now,” Eliza asked, “what this is?”

“The key to all the GIM.” He stroked the face of the clock. “It rests inside here.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. “And you let me wear it?” She should not. It was too great a responsibility.

But Adam merely looked at her with serious eyes. “Who else ought to but the other half of my soul?”

For a moment, the world blurred, and then Eliza blinked. “Adam.” It was a breath of sound.

Their gazes clashed, and she saw everything in his eyes, his vulnerability, his belief in her, and his need. He needed her, and Eliza could not deny him. She needed him too.

“Could I?” Adam hesitated, a flush creeping up his cheeks. His gentleness, mixed with the overwhelming maleness of his graceful body, made her heart squeeze.

“Could you what?” she whispered.

With the awkwardness of one unaccustomed to such actions, he lowered his head and rested it on the pillow of her breasts. A sigh left him as his body melted against hers, his arms wrapping around her waist as if he’d never let go.

The ache in her heart became tender pain, and she closed her eyes to manage it, even as she softly placed her hand upon his head and cradled him close.

When he spoke, his voice was low and dark. “Is this my night?”

“I-I suppose it is.” Simply saying the words left her flushed. Yet he did not move. Tentatively, she stroked him. “Is this how you want to spend it?”

A broken chuckle left him, his body moving against hers. “Ah, lass, I want so much. So very much when it comes to you.” Then he stilled. “Truth, Eliza?”

“Always.” Her voice cracked.

She thought he might not answer, silent and tense as he was, but then he took a small breath. “I looked down at you, lying here upon the bed so very lovely, your hair unbound as a wife’s might be, your eyes on me, so soft and beguiling. It felt as though you were mine… No,” he amended, “it felt as though I was
yours
.”

Inexplicably, she wanted to sob. She blinked at the ceiling, her eyes burning, and her hand stroked through his silky hair.

“So many souls belong to me.” The wide warmth of his palm slid, slow, almost seeking, down her waist. He paused, just below the curve of her hip, and his grip held. “And yet I’ve always remained alone.”

Eliza’s heart pounded against her ribs. She wanted to speak, to assure him that he was not alone. But her voice was caught at the base of her throat. So many people thought to own her, yet no one had ever wanted to be possessed by her.

His lips found the pounding pulse on her neck, and he pressed them there, not a kiss but enough to hold her attention.

“Let me believe it,” he whispered against her skin. “That for one night you’ve claimed me.” His movements were careful as he lifted his head and looked at her with his unearthly eyes. Behind his thick, black lashes, they seemed to glow gold, as he spoke with a soft breath of sound. “Let me believe that I am yours.”

“Adam.” The shell she’d placed around her heart was breaking, and it hurt, even as warmth flooded that cold space. With shaking hands, she cupped his lean cheeks, his evening beard rough against her skin. He watched her, still and silent, and she pulled him closer, closing her eyes only when her lips met his.

Kissing had never been like this, when the mere feel of a man’s mouth made her melt, made her body clench with a raw, almost angry need for more, instantly
more.

As if he felt it too, Adam breathed into her, as he softly groaned and canted his head, opening her mouth with his, and slipping his tongue in deep. A taste. A tease. Her fingers twined into his hair, her body arching as she licked him back, reveling in the way it made him shake.

Adam exhaled roughly and drew back to look down at her. With the tips of his fingers, he traced along her skin, not quite touching her but raising the flesh there and leaving a trail of heat as he moved. But it wasn’t enough. He caught her look and a wry smile tilted his lips. “I can’t decide.”

Eliza licked her dry lips. “Decide what?”

“Where to touch you first.” His gaze went dark as melting molasses. “I want it all at once.”

“And I just want
you.
” The demand was out of her mouth without thought. He had to know this. Of course he did, and yet her words had an immediate effect upon him.

His nostrils flared, and when he spoke, his voice was guttural. “You have me. Always.”

“Then let me have you now.” Gods, she was burning for him.

He grinned wide, his expression lightening like the dawn. “My impatient dove.”

“My wicked tease,” she shot back, loving that she’d made him smile.

He eased back farther, resting his head upon his hand, his long body stretched out beside her. With a lazy hand, he plucked at the sleeve of her gown. “Take this off.”

The arrogant demand in his tone and the way he looked at her, expectant, almost greedy in his impatience, ought to have annoyed her, and yet heat shot over her skin, and her nipples tightened painfully. Adam saw her reaction, and a dark growl rumbled in his chest, his gaze rapt upon her aching breasts. “Let me see you.”

With shaking hands, Eliza reached up. Slowly, she pulled on the tie that bound her nightgown. She watched his face, taking in the tightness there, the way his lips parted. The bow of her gown slipped free, and the fine linen slithered over her breasts.

Adam’s gaze blazed hot, but he made no move to touch her. “All of it, Eliza.”

Such a blunt command. She flushed hotter, her movements clumsy as she worked to push the gown down over her hips. And all the while, he watched, silent, his dark brows drawn together in concentration.

Silence nearly overwhelmed her as she lay against the cool sheets, her hot skin exposed for his inspection. And yet she’d never felt so wanted. Adam drew in an unsteady breath. And then he moved, the bed creaking under him as he eased forward, his mouth coming for her breast. But he did not kiss her. Eliza’s heart nearly stopped as he leaned down and nuzzled the tip of her nipple, his evening stubble rasping over her.

“So bloody beautiful,” he whispered. And then his mouth caught her, the flat of his tongue swirling around her breast as if to savor her flavor, and he groaned as if in pain. “So bloody good.”

He had to know how much he affected her, for his eyes gleamed hot as his hand eased lower, a light, hot pressure, over her hip. His slipped between her legs to cup her with firm possession. The blunt edge of his thumb ran along her center, seeking the sensitive tip of her sex. And a gurgled sound escaped her as he slowly, almost absently, played with her, until she grew wet and swelled against his touch.

“Luscious Eliza,” he murmured, his deep voice rumbling. “Slick as a summer peach.” Firm strokes moved along her sex. “Will you taste as sweet? Fill my mouth with your juices?”

Dizzy heat invaded, and her lids fluttered. She couldn’t breathe through the need to have him fill her. “Adam. Please.”

“Anything, Eliza.” His fingers moved in a circle, faster, harder. “Anything.”

The orgasm rushed through her, and Eliza stiffened in his arms, her body shaking. Adam watched it all with rapt attention. “Eliza…”

Panting, Eliza grasped the back of his neck and pulled his lips to hers, her hands at his shirt. Kissing her, Adam helped her draw it off. Flush now with health and vigor, he radiated strength, the muscles along his torso tight and defined. His was a warrior’s body, faint scars crisscrossing his flesh. She knew every inch of him, and yet this was different. This time she could explore, run her palms down his lean waist, glory in the satiny tightness of his skin.