Midland Refugee (Ultimate Passage Book 3) (13 page)

“
P
ush
.” Raiza’s voice was calm. “You are almost there.”

Finn held her hand. Marissa channeled her energy. There. She concentrated. Like a monumental burp, with a final thrust, it gave.

“There it is. I have a head, and—”

“Is it a girl?” Marissa held her breath.

Finn moved down a bit. “No wings.”

He came closer, planting a kiss on Marissa’s forehead. She breathed a sigh of relief. Though that meant that it was a girl, and Saraz—

She didn’t want to think what thought process Saraz would have about this.

“Wait.” Raiza’s voice was perplexed. Confusion crossed her face.

“What is it?” Finn walked toward the baby, looked down at the bundle in Raiza’s hands.

“Curses.” Finn turned his gaze toward Marissa, then back to the baby. “This is very unusual.”

“Do NOT do this to me, Finneas.” Marissa struggled to rise.

He took the baby from Raiza. “I’m sorry. I am. It’s just this is so unusual. Look.” He handed the baby to Marissa.

She took the bundled baby from his arms, opening the blanket. “It’s a boy?” Marissa looked at Finn. “I thought Asazi boys were born with wings?”

The baby gurgled, its skin shimmering a green color.

The door opened, Saraz stepped in.

3
5

T
aya was lost
. She couldn’t figure out where the building she’d stayed in was. She had taken so many twists and turns, but these buildings all looked the same. It didn’t help that she was in an emotional uproar with the threat of a duel to the death facing her. Was it enough that she’d refused to participate? Barz’s plan to claim she was their mate in order to keep her from the keep had backfired. She huffed in exasperation. It had backfired badly.

The alleys and streets unusually teeming with Kormic citizens going about their daily business were empty. Everyone was at the
celebration.
She scoffed at the mockery the celebration had become. More like an invitation to death.

She took a left turn, the stone building in front of her looked a little familiar, then turned right, heading down the cobbled walkway, trailing her fingers along the smooth boulders that comprised the walls of the buildings. Moving these boulders into place were feats of engineering, considering there were no mechanized vehicles to assist with the efforts.

A hand grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She jerked free, pushed her assailant, shoving at his chest. She struck out again, hitting a chest that felt like a stone wall.

“Easy, fierce, red-haired warrior woman. Easy.” Barz’s voice.

Relief flooded through her that it was Barz and not a stranger accosting her, relief that bodily harm would not ensue. Immediately following that, she was flooded with anger. He was the reason she was in this position. A position to fight for her life in order to claim him and his brother as her mates.

She did not want him and Corzine as her mates.

She breathed in his scent, filling her lungs. Untrue. She did not want Corzine, and wanting Barz was fruitless. And the fruitlessness of wanting a man who did not want her in the same way seared red hot through her.

“What do you want?” She hissed her anger and helplessness.

He held her close to keep her from striking at him in case she started to flail again. “You think you can determine who I belong to and gift me to Marni? Just like that?”

Was that it? He was angry that she gave him away as if he were property? That he had no choice in the matter? She pushed away from Barz, unable to handle being in his arms when her feelings were unrequited. “I have no choices here. What I want is irrelevant. I am the one with no rights.”

“And my rights?” His voice was angry, his eyes amber lasers that cut through to her soul. “What about what I want?”

“I do not know what you want.” Her chest heaved with anger . . . and other emotions. Emotions she did not want to name. Lust. Desire. Yearning. Longing. Craving. She did not want to name them, but she could not deny them.

He took her hand, pulling her close. She was powerless to resist. Wanting a man this much was not what she thought it should be. It shouldn’t be so powerful. So overwhelming.

His thighs were hard against hers, he pulled her closer, their abdomens touching. She felt his desire against her.

“Your body does not tell you what I want?” His breath was warm on her cheek, she inhaled it as if she were inhaling his very soul, taking him into her lungs, letting him infuse her veins. She looked into his eyes, not dropping her gaze, bold—so very unlike her.

She didn’t breathe the air out. Keeping his breath trapped in her body, as if she could keep him near her forever. This strong, proud, unyielding man. As unyielding as the Farlands he hailed from.

“
S
he is here
. The baby is here.” Saraz’s voice resonated in the small room.

Raiza arranged the blankets around Marissa, and the baby. Marissa looked up from her little boy, a light green shimmer showed how happy and at peace the little one was. “It is not a she,” Marissa exclaimed.

“A boy?” Doubt colored Saraz’s tone. “Let me see.” He took a step closer, the Elders a step behind him, ready to protect and intervene if necessary, their hoods thrown back, white eyes glowing.

Finn stepped forward, intercepting Saraz’s attempt to approach. “That’s far enough.”

“Call off this guard dog,” Saraz warned, his skin gleaming, turning darker, glistening black in the dim lighting.

“Guard dog?” Finn raised his own voice, pulled the TripTip from its sheath and advanced on Saraz.

Saraz stood his ground, his cloak dropping, shoved off his shoulders by black wings that expanded, their hooked joints menacing. A thrumming was followed by a large creaking sound. His face elongated, jaws enlarging, teeth, long, white, sharp.

“Finn,” Marissa’s voice was weak, but had a thread of determination. “Saraz,” she tried to raise her voice over their disagreement and Saraz’s transformation. “Please, stop. Stop this now! Let this be done. Give him his view.”

Finn sheathed his blade, stepped back, a snarl on his lips. Saraz reverted, shifting slowly into human form. His black scales gleaming in the candlelit room. Only Marissa noticed that he had kept his hand on his blade. She said a small prayer of thanks that he restrained himself.

Saraz approached, reaching for the baby. Marissa shook her head. “Do not touch him. I will show you the baby.”

She lowered the small drying cloth that Raiza had swaddled the little one in. Its skin shimmered a deep green. As soon as the cloth was removed, he opened his mouth in a wail, his tiny scales turning orange.

“It is a boy.” Saraz agreed. “A newborn boy.”

Marissa turned him around.

Saraz tilted his head, confused. “He has no wings. An Asazi without wings?” Saraz looked to the Elders.
‘How can an Asazi have no wings?’
He asked in Paonian mind-talking.

Marissa covered the little one, held him tight to her body, under her own covers.

The Elders did not answer him, turning to each other rather, mumbling in their language.

“Who knows? Who cares?” Finn asked, his voice tempered by anger, his jaw clenched. “Will you keep up your end of the deal?”

Saraz crossed his arms, raising a sardonic brow. “Will your father be joining me in my temple?”

“He said he would. We keep our word.” Finn’s orange color was as dark as the baby’s orange had been when he was born.

Norn entered from behind the Elders. “I will do as I need to in order to assure safe passage for all that are going.”

Raiza’s sucked in air, her breath ragged, tears came to her eyes. She lowered her head, but not before Marissa witnessed her anguish. She wondered if she should retract her offer, forget going to Earth, stay here, and make a new life.

Marissa should discuss this with Finn. See what he thought. Then again, it would be best to bring it up now before anything was firmed up. “Maybe—”

“No.” Norn’s voice was firm. “No maybes. The agreement stands.”

‘When will this child be able to travel? How long before you need the portal?’
Saraz asked in Paonian.

Marissa didn’t want to look at Raiza for an answer. This was bad enough on her. Instead, she looked at the baby’s peaceful face, the green color giving away his relaxed state.

Norn spoke first. “Three days?”

Raiza muffled a cry back, barely. Norn reached for her, put his arm around her, his other hand on hers.

“Three days, it is.”

B
arz took
Taya’s hand in his. Hers was eclipsed next to his large one. He tugged gently, and without a word led her down the alley, made a left turn, then another alley, then opened the door.

She didn’t know how he found it. All of the buildings looked identical to her. All of them the color of the desert ground of the Farlands, an orange-brown hue, capturing the sun, resembling baked stone homes. And all were the same size. It was not much different than trying to pick out one beehive’s entrance from another, all of them looked alike.

She followed him in, her hand still in his, he closed the door, turned around, facing her, and leaned against the wall. Still holding her hand, he pulled, gently, not with the same sense of urgency or control that he had used when he’d pulled her along to find this house.

She let his hand lead her forward, until her body was almost touching his.

“I’m not one for many words.” Barz brought her hand up, placing it on his chest, just over his heart. The beat was so strong, so reassuring. His hard chest rose with each breath he took. He took her hand lowered it over his abdomen.

Taya sucked in air. She held her breath. He stopped their hands’ movement. Left hers on his abdomen, crossed the short span between them and put his on her torso. His eyes held her captive. She couldn’t have moved away from him if she’d wanted to. She had no will. There was no one else, nothing else. No time, no sun, no universe. Just him. Just her. Just them and a thread of electricity between them that made her pulse beat faster, her breathing shallower.

He raised his hand from her abdomen, slowly, inching it upward, over her sternum between her breasts. She waited to see what he would do. A part of her wishing for more, a part of her scared of more. Going from being an untouched, asexual virgin in her Asazi life to becoming a concubine for Saraz had been one thing, but this, oh, this was so very different. Her desire for Barz was more than a command in her mind that came from another’s mind, the way it did with Saraz. Her longing and craving for Barz came from her very core. Every fiber, every nerve sung out for his touch. She couldn’t avoid looking at him every moment he was around. Her eyes drank him in. To have him so close, touching, breathing the same air, it was intoxicating.

“Barz.” Her voice was but a whisper, a hint of her apprehension seeping through.

His fingers paused, just a hand’s breadth away from her heart. He was still. His hand on her flesh, her skin hot, her colors shifting.

“I feel it.” His voice was deep, a low timbre giving away his desire.

She took in his deep yellow eyes, losing herself in them. She didn’t want to speak. She wanted to enjoy this moment, knowing that their two races, their differences, the fact that he was a twin who had to share his mate—all of these were factors which would keep them apart. She would be silent and relish in this moment.

He breathed in deeply, his chest under her hand pushing out. “I feel that which you are feeling.”

Taya didn’t know what to say. How could he possibly be feeling what she was feeling? How could he know what she was feeling? All the emotions that she’d pent up for weeks, there was no way he would know. How could he?

“You doubt me.” He raised a brow.

Taya touched his face, ran her fingertips over his jawline, up to defined cheekbones, his temple, over his head, feeling his spiky ridges. They warmed and swelled beneath her fingertips, undulating imperceptibly. She jerked her hand away, eyes wide. “What?”

He took her hand, raised it to his face, cupped his cheekbone with her hand, and then covered her hand with his. “That is what happens when a Kormic man—or woman—is . . . aroused.” He let his voice trail soft, as if unsure if he should say it in front of her.

“You are not one to be timid.” Taya whispered, letting the hand that was on his abdomen rise, trailing over the hard muscles on his chest, a strong neck, going over his jaw, cupping his other cheek.

“No. I am not timid.”

“But you are holding something back. Why? What?”

He took both her hands, raised them above her head, and with one smooth motion, he was no longer against the wall, she was. And her hands were held prisoners above her head, her body stretched. He leaned closer, then even closer, but still not touching her with his body, though she could feel the heat emanating.

Taya tilted her head up, looked at his lips, then his eyes. He lowered his head, his lips moving toward hers with stealth.

Taya wanted to close her eyes so she could etch into her memory the sensation of his lips taking hers, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from his.

His lips alit softly on hers, then pressed down in a crushing kiss that threatened to take every part of her soul with it. His body pressed her into the wall, his torso hard, his manhood a length of steel, giving testimony to his desire.

Her lips parted, his tongue claiming hers, taking over. He held her hands with one hand while his other hand drifted downward, sliding behind her back, pulling her into his hips, claiming her.

T
he air was filled
with her arousal. Barz was not the scent-tracker that Corzine was, but he could smell her desire. It wafted over them in delicious scent of musk and passion. He sucked air in, claiming her essence, trapping it in his body. Grabbing the top of her borrowed Kormic leggings, he pulled on the fabric, ripping it in the process.

Her gasp was fuel to his passion. He looked at her glowing, shimmering skin as it was infused with the pink glow of passion. Tugging her pants down over her hips, he trailed kisses down the length of her abdomen, her hips, stopping when he’d reached the top of her thigh.

He glanced up, to be sure she had no doubts. Claiming her would not be an easy task, it would invest him deeper and more dangerously in her than he already was. Her eyes shimmered with passion. Her hands were over her breasts, touching her nipples through the fabric, as if she didn’t realize she was doing this to herself, driving him deeper into the depths of his passion. Her nipples poking through the fabric, teasing him, tempting him to taste her.

He wanted to tell her things, but his mouth didn’t want to form the words. Tugging her Kormic moccasin boots off, he pulled her pants down completely, freeing her legs, releasing even more of her delightful aroma.

With a growl, he picked her up, falling onto the bed, catching her fall with his arms. The little firebrand that she usually was lay there, her eyes issuing an invitation he wasn’t in the position to refuse. He kissed her lips tenderly, forcing back the primal need to take all that she had to offer and lowered his head, trailing twin tongues over her neck, touching the hollow at the base.

Taking both breasts in his hands, he pushed them together while her eyes watched, glowing with her cravings. Taya whimpered, her hands reaching for the bedcover, fisting the fabric in a white-knuckled grip, her body begging for release.

He kept his eyes glued on hers when both his tongues slipped out and encircled her nipples, flicking them, twirling them around his tongue, tugging on them with his teeth, one by one. Her moans fueled him, her arching hips making promises he needed to collect. He abandoned his quest within her glorious full breasts and made a straight path lower.

His taste buds celebrated as he buried his face in her soft curls, her plump lips and mound. He pushed her legs wider, his tongues laving her lips, traveling up and down their length while Taya writhed. With both hands beneath her, pushing her closer to his face, he buried a tongue deep within her channel, drinking from her well. His other tongue flicked and licked at her tender little core, making it swell, its pulse beating a primeval beat against his tongue. Her taste almost made him release in his pants. He clenched his jaw, fighting back the desire to take her.

With a cry that came from deep within her, almost not sounding like herself, Taya thrashed and exploded in a series of spasms beneath his tongue, capturing his tongue in her tight channel, pulling it.

“Barz!” Her voice was a whisper, a shout, it was now, it was eternity, and it was more temptation than he could handle.

This was too much for Barz. Her cries drove him beyond the point of any control. He pushed his leggings off, unable to wait, though he’d wanted to give her so much more pleasure.

He took hold of his pulsing cock. Aligned it with her beautiful glistening sex.

T
aya couldn’t breathe
, couldn’t stop panting. She wasn’t sure which. For certain her pulse was racing out of control. She wanted him more than she wanted anything—ever. And she never would have thought this kind of desire for a man would be possible. It was all-consuming. He pushed against her, his hardness at her entrance, waiting.

“I want you. Please.” She was resorting to begging, and she was not hesitant to beg this man. This quiet, abrupt man whose emotions ran deep.

He waited, his eyes on hers, questioning. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. With one quick thrust, he pushed in, she relished the fullness, embracing the way he stretched, her going deep. He never took his eyes off hers as he pulled out, almost to the crown, then pushed back in, claiming, penetrating, branding her with his hardness, leaving an indelible mark on her heart.

She shuddered when he buried himself even deeper, filling her channel. A drop of his sweat took a slow trail down his temple. Taya reached up a fingertip, tracing the droplet’s path before reaching the tiny bit of moisture, capturing it on the end of her finger and tasting it.

Watching her finger enter her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked on the tiny bit of his salty sweat, Barz groaned, rocked his hips, and pushed off so that they were connected still, but he was sitting up, watching her tiny scales shimmer on her breasts, her abdomen, her full nether lips. Her body broadcast every emotion, every sensation, rippling colors of pink infused with undulating green.

He pulled out, watching as his rod came out from her sheath, moist, gleaming. He pushed back in relishing the connection of their bodies, the way he disappeared deep within her, the way her muscles clenched and welcomed every part of him.

She moved slowly, going forward, then backward, wiggling slowly, grinding.

“No . . .” He had to stop her before she made him come. “You need to be still.” He put a hand on her hips.

T
aya took his hand off
, pushed him forward with both hands on his wide chest, then used her legs to shift, him on his back while keeping them joined, she pivoted her legs under him and sat impaled on his cock. The top of his shaft pressed up against her inner pillow, crushing the area that pushed her into the next level, that threatened to keep her from being a rational being and would turn her into a wild animal. She ground on him, ignoring the pleasure and the pain of his being so deep within her. Taya rocked her hips, forward, then backward, enjoying the way her breasts swayed, the way his eyes followed her breasts, locked on her nipples.

Barz reached up, took a nipple in each hand and pulled, then tweaked. The sensation traveled straight to Taya’s core, as if attached with a hook and line. She soared, bowed, lifted, with every assault and touch he took out on her nipples. Sweat dripped off her. She released a cry that alarmed her, then seized as her body went rigid, screaming his name. “Barz.”

He pulled her close, covering the rest of her scream with his mouth as he throbbed and swelled beneath her, pulsing and filling her with his desire and essence.

She pulled away from his kiss, tearing her lips from his so she could watch the grimace of passion as it traveled across his face, fueling her to pump and impale herself again and again, until she reached another climax and moaned while her body spasmed beneath her.

Spent, completely at a loss, physically and emotionally, Taya lay on his hard chest, his arms around her, still joined while his essence slid through her channel, reminding her of their union.

T
aya slept
, deeply but not long, he kept her in his arms, unmoving, protecting. She woke, feeling his hot, dark amber gaze on her face. Their shared juices drying up, remaining an aroma that incited more cravings. Now she was more uncertain and yet more certain than ever. The inconsistency was confusing.

She took a deep breath, wondering if she could explain it or if he could, wondering if what she said would make sense or alienate this forbidding, strong man. “I do not feel I know what you want.”

His jaw became hard, his profile unreadable. “Is there any doubt what I want? You have not felt my gaze on you for weeks? I have felt yours.”

He didn’t understand. Maybe because of his culture he couldn’t. She tried again. “I do not want Corzine.”

“I do not want you to want him. I want you to want only one.”

“But it is the way of your people. You are twins.”

He turned over, swung long legs over the side of the bed and put his attire on. Without another word or even a glance, he left the building.