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Authors: Ophelia Bell

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BOOK: Breath of Innocence
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“But surely the Verdanith can help…” Roka began.

Rafe cut him off. “Even if I were allowed to use it first, I can’t risk the time it will take, nor risk the Council finding her first once it’s assembled. No doubt you know by now that there’s a piece missing. It will take time to locate. I’ve already wasted enough time coming here, but Kol won’t allow me to do this alone. And with our combined powers, we should be able to track her more quickly than they can find the lost fragment of the Verdanith. I absolutely have to find her before the Council has a chance to discover she exists, and once the Verdanith is assembled it won’t be long before they know.”

“She is Unbound,” Roka said in a hushed tone.

Rafe didn’t answer, but the worried look in his eyes told Camille that Roka was right. She suddenly wished there were more she could do to comfort the man, but she wasn’t the woman he loved. The fact that he’d gone so long without seeking out a human simply for the sake of replenishment spoke volumes about his feelings for this woman.

“Stay here and rest until you’re ready to leave,” she said. “I think our bed is big enough for one more, if you need to top off.”

Rafe gave her a perplexed look, then his eyes widened slightly when he caught on. She was sure he must have blushed but couldn’t see it in the shadows.

“This isn’t something I normally do,” he said apologetically. “Before I met her, I might spend one night with a woman every few days and that was enough to keep me going. I’m not used to storing up more energy than I need to last until the next tryst. But I haven’t had the stomach for them since I met her. The hunt has become too tedious. You are too generous to offer.”

“She is,” Eben said, giving her a look that made her skin prickle in irritation. He always seemed to get a little bent out of shape if she initiated with anyone other than him.

“You were on the verge of offering, too,” she said to Eben, her voice honey-smooth. “You’ve been sizing him up, wondering what it might feel like sandwiched between a Shadow and a Guardian. I love you because we have so much in common, you know. At least I don’t mind sharing.”

With an exasperated shake of his head, Roka stood and beckoned to Rafe to follow him. “Sometimes being mated can be just as tedious, brother,” he said. He chuckled at the rude gestures Camille and Eben both directed at him.

Eben stood, gave Camille a resigned look, and followed the two dragons.

Camille watched the trio of perfectly toned, naked bodies saunter across the deck and disappear down the ladder to the lower deck. She marveled at the contrast between the two men she spent virtually all her time with. Eben was definitely the jealous type, but it was as though he were only selectively so. As long as it was Roka’s idea, he was on board, but they hadn’t actually shared her with another since the ritual six months earlier.

In spite of maintaining a kind of status quo among their trio, Eben had become oddly distant lately. When the three made love, he tended to become withdrawn for a brief span afterward, seeking out solitude and leaving her alone with Roka to wonder whether they had done something wrong. Earlier that night was the first in several that she’d awoken to both warm, male bodies in her bed, but they also fallen asleep without making love. It was a rare occurrence, but it happened, particularly if she fell asleep early. She had learned later from Eben that Roka had forbidden him to wake her, “Because that kind of peace is too lovely to disrupt.”

She understood the sentiment, having woken on many occasions to see the two of them, serene in their slumber. Serene was a bit of an overstatement, however. Eben talked in his sleep, and Roka had a habit of embracing her in the middle of the night and nuzzling her neck until she was mad with need. He swore every morning that he didn’t remember doing it.

Camille had no compunction against waking either of them for sex, at least, and had yet to hear a complaint. She had been doing it more often lately. A series of vivid dreams had begun to visit her nightly for the last couple months, ever since Roka had broached the topic of starting a family. Dreams of a baby suckling at her breast, a tiny, beautiful bundle in her arms with golden hair like Eben’s and silver eyes like Roka’s. She would wake from them so overwhelmed with need she was sometimes blind to which one she turned to first.

Eben had been noncommittal about the family idea initially, but the last time she’d awoken him in the dark of night he had responded to her with an urgency that matched her own. Afterward he had held her in a desperate embrace, refusing to let her go even after her soft protests.

When the chilly ocean air finally began to affect her enough to give her goose bumps, she stood and descended into the warmer confines of the lower deck. Eben could be remote when it came to his feelings, particularly where she was concerned, so she was at a loss as to how she should get him to open up. Roka, on the other hand, was open and honest to a fault, and didn’t seem to grasp Eben’s reticence. She would have to figure out some way to get through to Eben and find out what it was that bothered him. Perhaps when they docked in Sydney, the three of them could have a night out before Roka was back at work managing the Australian branch of Kol’s security firm.

The lowest ranking of the Court dragons, Roka had been granted the least desirable territory, but relished it even as spread out as it was. Camille loved the scenery herself, and loved being able to travel at a moment’s notice between New Zealand, Australia, and Africa. They’d chosen the yacht for precisely the reason Rafe had suggested. Not only was sailing preferable to being trapped on an airplane to travel between the cities within Roka’s territory, it allowed him the opportunity to fly when he liked without the worry of being seen. Their travels the past six months tended to take them across the Indian Ocean frequently, with stops in port to refuel and restock, as well as check in with Kol’s bonded staff.

She had hoped this lull in their travels would give both men a chance to unwind and relax. It had worked for Roka, but Eben had just grown quieter with each day. Now she wondered if it might not be better for the two of them to have some time alone.

Chapter 2

S
andwiched between a Shadow and a Guardian.
Eben could think of worse things, but Camille had been wrong. So wrong. He loved sharing her with Roka, but some nights wished like hell for the dragon to go flying just to give the two of them time alone. But on the nights Roka would shift, Camille would whoop in excitement when he bent his bulky form to allow her to climb on. After the first few flights, Eben began to beg off. He’d go back to their bed, embrace her pillow, and fall asleep with the scent of her in his nostrils.

It wasn’t even sex he wanted from her—just her undivided attention, something he had yet to be graced with since the ritual had begun. Hell, he even missed the little moments they’d had during their jungle trek before they found the temple, if they could be called “moments.” The stolen glances when they’d meet eyes for a split second across the campsite, before hastily looking away and trying to pretend they weren’t both too terrified to talk to each other. At least those moments had been theirs and theirs alone. He had never been so turned inside-out over a woman before.

Now there was another face in the mix and he had no idea what it meant. Another dragon who could snap him like a twig if he said the wrong thing, not that he’d ever seen a hint of animosity in Roka. If anything, Eben was the one prone to violence. The large, platinum-haired dragon seemed to have a calming effect on everyone around him. When they would go out on the town in Sydney, Roka could stall a bar fight merely by being present.

Rafe didn’t seem calm, however, in spite of the air being obviously permeated with Roka’s breath. Eben had grown accustomed to the delicate scent of it, like the faint scent of Camille that lingered on his own skin even after he’d bathed. Roka’s breath had the same effect on Eben as Camille’s aroma—a kind of subdued longing, though lately Camille’s scent evoked a much more potent flavor of need. A craving he couldn’t fully grasp, but that he desperately needed to sate.

The Shadow was clothed now, in a black t-shirt and black jeans. Roka hadn’t bothered conjuring clothes for himself, lately preferring to experience the variety of human-made garments he could find. He now sat comfortably across their breakfast table from Rafe in a white terrycloth robe, sipping coffee. Heavy cream and sugar, Eben knew. He guessed the Shadow took his black. He poured himself a cup and carried it back down to the cabin so he could shower and dress.

Several minutes later, Camille’s figure appeared ghost-like through the steam that coated the shower door. She stood outside it for a moment, seeming to hesitate.

“Can I join you?” she asked in a soft voice that instantly made him feel guilty for being an ass to her earlier.

“Please.” The word came out scratchy, like a desperate plea from a dying man to be put out of his misery.

She entered and stood beneath the rain shower in the center of the enclosure. He didn’t move, remaining against the hot jets that sprayed water from the side of the shower. The sight of her naked body calmed more than it aroused him. He watched her wet her hair and tilt her face up into the water. He was fascinated by the way it streamed down over her skin in wet sheets, cascading off her nipples in thicker streams, pooling slightly at her navel before spreading through the trimmed vee of dark gold between her thighs. He could watch her all day, just like this, and never get tired of it.

She moved toward him, a quizzical smile on her face. Eben’s heart raced the closer she got. God, why did her proximity always affect him so acutely? He watched her lips move but couldn’t register her words, he was so enthralled. Her blue eyes widened and her brows arched higher, questioning. Finally he snapped back to his senses.

“Uh, yeah, here’s the soap,” he said, handing the bottle of body wash to her.

Camille’s brows drew together. “Are you all right? You’ve been acting strange lately.”

He kept his face a mute mask and shook his head. “I’m fine.”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t believe you.”

The floral scent of the body wash filled the steamy enclosure when she squeezed a measure into her palm and handed the bottle back to him.

“Believe what you want. I’m fine.”


Fine
. Get my back, will you?” She turned away from him and shifted backward almost unbearably close. Close enough for her ass to brush against the erection he hadn’t realized he even had until the slightest touch of her made it painfully apparent. She had to know how she affected him. Once he’d made his feelings known to her that night in the temple, she’d seemed more intuitive. Maybe she had always been that way but her shyness beforehand made it impossible to tell.

Christ, he wanted her now, but he wanted more than just to get his rocks off with her underneath him. He wanted to witness her enjoyment of his touch and know it was only his touch she was enjoying. To give her pleasure and know every little sound and twitch she made were only because of the things he did to her.

He gently picked up the wet rope of her long hair and draped it over her shoulder. The soap slicked down her back in a fragrant lather. He moved his hands in slow circles, massaging her neck, her shoulders, then lower. She let out a soft sigh of contentment and leaned back farther. Any closer and she’d be flush against him. He slipped one hand between the cleft of her ass and delicately cleaned there, too. Knowing she was probably still tender, he refrained from touching her more than necessary.

Silently, he moved around her and let the spray from the side rinse her back. He took over washing the front as slowly and methodically as the back, starting again at her neck and shoulders. The contortions they put her in during sex weren’t comfortable—he’d experienced some of them himself. This was the first time he’d had sole access to her after the fact, however, and he intended to enjoy it for as long as possible.

He cupped both soapy breasts in his palms, kneading them in slow, gentle circles. He didn’t mean to tease, but it was second nature to try to elicit a response from her this way. It always worked. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she moaned, arching against his touch. The weight of them in his hands along with the soft, quick pants from between her lips was the best combined experience. He brushed thumbs over both nipples and watched her face, fascinated by the ripple of enjoyment that passed across her features.

He reached to the side and aimed one of the other myriad nozzles at her to rinse the suds off. When he glanced back, her eyes were open and watching him with a mixture of love, lust, and confusion. Was she feeling the same things he was? An unusual sense of discovery that they’d never experienced before? They had made love before without Roka getting involved, but never without him in the room. His presence had been ubiquitous from the very beginning.

This felt very different. This singular focus they had for each other. It would end soon, but he intended to savor it.

She tilted her head back when he moved closer, and accepted his mouth with hers. Her lips were wet and tasted a little soapy, but her tongue was as sweet and velvet soft as always. Eben lingered, absorbing her need like a sponge until he felt saturated. He released her and bent to her breasts, taking her nipples between his lips one at a time, sucking them into pebble-hard peaks.

Her fingernails raked through his hair, scoring his scalp and pulling him closer. “Oh, Eben. You know I love you, don’t you? I’ve always loved you.”

The words had the force of cleansing fire, but they weren’t enough to sear away his worry. They only served to reveal his weakness, and it was too stark to deny. He loved her. He always had, and sharing her had become a heavy yet necessary burden.

He claimed her mouth again and pushed her hard against the thick glass at the back of the shower. With both hands, he gripped her thighs and lifted her up. Her skin made rough skidding sounds against the glass as he slid her higher until her legs could wrap around his waist.

“Yes,”
she whispered when he pressed his throbbing tip against her hot core.
“I want you. Always.”

He slid deep, his hips rocking hard against hers. Her slick heat was so welcome. After the cold air on the deck above, the shower’s heat had done little to warm him. Her warmth seeped into him with each steady thrust, with each tight squeeze of her muscles, urging him deeper. She clutched at his head, pulled him to her again. Her lips traced silent affirmations against his jaw, his mouth. Their tongues slid together in an intimate dance, articulating the things they felt, but had no words to adequately convey.

They climaxed together, shuddering, clutching, clinging to the last drops of pleasure. Their mouths bit and sucked, seemed to drain each other dry like parched wanderers in a desert being dragged away from the long sought oasis.

He refused to release her, however. He punched the knobs for the shower, turning everything off.

“You can put me down now,” Camille said, pushing away just enough to look him in the eye.

“Do you want me to put you down?”

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. He grabbed a couple towels with his free hand and draped one over her shoulders. At the bed, he climbed on slowly, scooting on his knees until he could lay her down against the pillows, following so that their hips never parted. He intended to keep making love to her for as long as possible, to take advantage of this window of opportunity to have her all to himself, even though the steady, throbbing glow of her mark made it agonizingly apparent that she would never be wholly his, ever.

***

“What is it?” Rafe asked, his brow creasing with concern when Roka hadn’t spoken in several moments.

Roka met his friend’s gaze and studied him for a moment. The Shadow knew the trials of love well enough, but he had yet to forge the kind of bond with another that Roka had with Eben and Camille. He might understand, and after the story Rafe had shared, Roka believed he could share his own in confidence.

“It’s the bond I have with them. It was unconventional to begin with, but at least the Council has no laws against us mating with two humans upon awakening. Issa refused to take him.”

“Was there something wrong with him?” Rafe asked.

“Nothing at all, save his love for Camille. In spite of my bond with him, which is mutually satisfying, I think he still prefers her.”

“You have the power to release them, you know. Or to simply let them be together and get out of their way.”

“In theory, yes…” Roka glanced toward the narrow stairwell that led down to the lower deck where the master bedroom was. It was impossible to ignore the combination of emotions welling up from beneath him. His connection to the pair was strong. Everything they felt, he received a concentrated taste of. Camille’s worry for Eben. Eben’s desperate need for her love. They were sharing something now that he didn’t think he could compete with, nor did he believe he should.

“But…” Rafe raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“But they are
mine
.” Roka’s teeth clenched and he pounded the heavy table with one fist for emphasis. The wood creaked under the strain. “His connection to me may not be very deep yet, but we are both lost without her.”

“You understand my predicament, then,” Rafe said.

“Yes. I understand well. You should rest now. There’s a spare cabin below. We will fly at dusk.”

Rafe nodded and stood.

“Rafe, if she offers again…” Roka began.

“I will decline, for his sake, and for yours.”

Roka nodded and watched his friend descend to the lower deck. He sat in silence for a moment, then stood and left the shelter of the interior to stand at the railing facing the bow. Dawn was creeping over the horizon ahead of him, chasing the night across the sky. There was nothing like being out in the middle of nowhere, being able witness these moments. Shifts in the universe, another cycle beginning while the prior ended. The continuous flow of it, persisting uninterrupted, for eons.

In some ways he regretted his own interruption. The enforced hibernation. Time had stood still for him and his brethren for five hundred years. Their own cycles arrested for reasons most of them had forgotten, yet took for granted as necessary. After Rafe’s visit tonight he agreed that their laws needed to change, but also felt a little guilty. Had it not been for those laws, he never would have been the Guardian that night in the temple. Never would have been the object of Camille’s innocent affection. Perhaps it didn’t matter, though. Perhaps fate would have brought them together no matter what. He had to believe that, if he were going to help Rafe with his quest.

The sun finally peeked its shining head over the horizon. The surface of the water became a vast ocean of pure gold that made him long yet again for a child with similar qualities. He didn’t wish for a White like himself. Only the Virgin’s Guardian ever rose above the rank of servant and protector. He wished for a child as full of wide-eyed eagerness and wonder at every new experience that Camille possessed, and one with the same fearless curiosity as Eben. Sweet Mother help him, but he loved them both so much. It pained him to know that one of them might ever be unhappy.

The flood of emotions he’d channeled from them all morning subsided as the sun’s full glory finally birthed itself from beyond the edge of the Earth. It hung there in proud challenge to the shadows that fast retreated to the other side of the world. With a silent greeting, Roka turned and went back inside.

He let them sleep for a little while longer, finding comfort in his own thoughts. There was something to be said for true solitude like this, and he hadn’t had it since being frozen in jade in the temple. He didn’t miss it, but being presented with it now, he relished it. The other two were a constant presence in his life, his thoughts, his bed. He was truly happy, a feeling he never imagined he would feel during all those centuries of guarding his race’s treasures. Camille had chosen him, and everything else had followed.

His bond with Eben, though solid, but felt tenuous at the moment, when the man’s desperate craving for Camille was too apparent to deny and drowned out all else. Roka had considered taking one or both of them along on this quest he was embarking on with Rafe to find the lost purebred his friend loved. He had second thoughts now. As much as it would hurt to leave them behind, it seemed that was the best choice. He knew the perils of where he and Rafe had to travel. Camille and Eben could handle it, he was sure, but he doubted Eben would object to staying, and Eben would be able to convince Camille it was the best plan.

BOOK: Breath of Innocence
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