mythean arcana 06 - master of fate (14 page)

The desire in her eyes had been so obvious. He’d once jumped at the chance to give her what she asked for with her gaze. But there was more to it now. A desperate wanting that he shared but couldn’t act on. How was he supposed to go to his mate when he was broken like this? His fist lashed out at the stone wall, but he pulled it back at the last second. He sucked in a deep breath. There was no reason to crack the wall of the widow’s new cottage.

He needed some space. His long strides ate up the floor as he headed to the front door. The lintel was so low that he had to duck beneath it. 

Cold rain pattered on his face as he leaned against the cottage wall and looked up at the dark sky. The moon was hidden behind fat black rain clouds. No matter how hard he wished it, the cold did nothing to diminish his erection. 

She was more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen. In the past, he’d never seen her fully nude. They’d only had that incredible day on top of the temple in the jungle. Now that he had... He couldn’t get the image out of his mind.

She was here, and she wanted him. It was everything he’d once wanted and had almost had. It drove him insane. It was torture not to be able to touch his mate when he wanted to so badly. It was sick, because he could do nothing about it, but he
wanted
her to want him. He’d ignored his scars and taken off his damn shirt. True, he’d needed to dry it. But that was only half the reason.

He liked the way she looked at him. And fuck, she’d been looking tonight. Her gaze had glowed golden as it roved over him. His acute hearing had picked up the change in her breathing and it had made his own go haywire. Hands that hadn’t itched to touch anyone in three hundred years itched to touch her.

Even now, he imagined her in bed. He’d have to join her. There was nowhere else to sleep. And he
wanted
to join her, even if it was just to lie next to her. He wanted to be with her forever.

To do that, he had to do his damnedest to get over his issues. The last time he’d even fantasized about her, his subconscious had sucked him back into the hell that had broken him.

Decided, he reached for the fly of his pants and drew the zipper down. Given his issues with the touch of others, he was a pro with his own hand by now. His needs hadn’t died just because part of his mind had. He just had to be very specific about the fantasies. The last time he’d jerked off to thoughts of Aurora, his subconscious had wanted her touch. So he’d dreamed it up and paid the price with a dark flashback.

This time, he’d be more careful.

He spat on his hand and gripped his cock, which was hot and hard in his hand. He let his head fall back as he stroked, pleasure coiling within him. It took nothing for the image of Aurora, naked in the sauna, to rise to the front of his mind. When he’d fantasized about her last night, he’d had to imagine what she’d look like naked.

Now, it was unnecessary. In his mind, the dim light of the sauna gleamed on her skin. His gaze traced her form, from the curve of her shoulder to the slope of her breast and down to the swell of her hips.

She crooked a finger at him and beckoned him close. His heart thundered and he climbed down from the top bench to where she sat below.

Though he’d sworn he wouldn’t think it, in his mind she reached for him. He forced away the panic and grasped her wrists, raising her arms above her head and carefully lowering her to the bench. He envisioned a rope, something he’d always fantasized about even before he’d developed his aversion to touch, and bound her wrists together.

“Hold the edge of the bench,” he told her.

Because it was his fantasy, she complied, gripping the edge of the bench above her head with her fingertips. She was so beautiful that it drove the dark memories from his mind. He took a moment to admire her form stretched out on the bench. Her pink nipples—the only part of her that wasn’t golden—tightened under his gaze. But it was the curls at the apex of her thighs that caught his eye.

His mouth watered as he slowly lowered himself to his knees and reached out to touch her thigh. Her skin was so warm that it burned him in the best way. As long as her hands were above her head, the dark memories didn’t seem to surface.

He shifted her and draped her legs over his shoulders, then buried his face between her thighs. She was slick and sweet beneath his tongue. He remembered what it was like to actually touch her there, to feel and hear her reach her climax. It didn’t take long for his body to race toward orgasm.

Under the rain outside the little cottage, his fist pumped on his cock. Pleasure streaked through him until he shuddered and came, his spend spilling onto the ground.

Sanity returned quickly. He should do his damnedest to fall asleep before he got hard again. With shaky hands, he drew up his fly and rinsed his hands in the water that poured from the roof. 

It was quiet and dim in the cottage when he walked in. He stoked the fire and added logs until it roared, then stripped off his wet pants and hung them over the rack to dry. Perhaps standing in the rain to masturbate hadn’t been the best idea for his clothes, but it hardly mattered. Sleeping next to Aurora in his underwear didn’t bother him and he knew it sure as hell didn’t bother her, not after her naked appearance in the sauna last night.

The small bedroom was lit by a candle on the floor near the head of the bed. Aurora lay on one side, her arm stretched over her head as she slept. He looked at her a few moments more than was smart, then bent down and blew out the candle she’d left lit for him. 

Careful not to jostle her, he lay down next to her. He was far too tall for the bed, but at least there was a foot of space between them. Panic didn’t clutch at his throat the way it usually did, however, and eventually he drifted off to sleep.

He jerked awake some time later, the sound of Aurora’s harsh breathing echoing in the silent room. He bolted upright. “What’s wrong?” 

Aurora sat upright too, curled around Mouse, who sat in her lap. Her breathing was erratic and rough.

“Is Mouse all right?” In the dimness, his gaze searched the cat, but she seemed fine, purring and rubbing her head against Aurora.

“Mouse is—Mouse is fine,” she stammered.

“What’s wrong then?”

“Nothing. I’m—fine.” She wouldn’t look at him and her breathing continued to stutter.

“You’re having a panic attack. You aren’t fine.” He reached out to rub her shoulder in comfort, then clenched his fist and lowered it.

“I’m fi—”

“Quit trying to bluff your way through it. Something is obviously bothering you.” 

Her shoulders crumpled. “I’m not fine.”

Some dam within him broke. She looked so small and alone, despite the cat’s valiant efforts to cheer her up. He couldn’t keep being a slave to his damage, damn it. Not when there was a real reason to break out of it.

He reached for her and pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. The contact made his stomach pitch and his skin burn, but he tried to banish the discomfort. It wasn’t as bad as it had been in the past. He could bear it.

She stiffened in surprise, then melted into him. Mouse squeezed out from between them and gave him a look that he took to mean
you’ve got it from here—don’t fuck it up.

He held Aurora, his heart racing, as her breathing slowly calmed. She was warm and soft in his arms, a weight that he hadn’t felt in centuries. It made the hair on his arms prickle and his heartbeat heavy in the best way. Her hair smelled like some kind of flower he didn’t recognize.

So much sensation. Touch, smell, even the sound of her breath so close. It overwhelmed him. 

Was he changing? Could it be possible that being around Aurora was reversing some of the trauma done to his psyche by the Seer’s torture?

“Thanks.” Her voice was muffled against his chest, her breath a warm puff of air on his skin. “I know how much you must hate this.”

“I doona.”

“You do. I’ve seen you.”

He sighed. Chose to ignore it. “Why were you having a panic attack?”

“Just a bad night is all.”

His heart twisted. She was so brave about it. “Do you have a lot of bad nights?”

She shrugged within the circle of his arms. “Some. Depends.”

“On what?”

“Dreams. The dark and cold.” She fell silent and he tightened his arms around her.

“You dream about the dark and cold?”

“Sometimes. The aether. It haunts me. So cold and dark and lonely. It’s like I’m drowning in it. But the worst is—” She paused and he realized that she’d probably never told anyone this. “The worst is that something tears me apart. I don’t know what, but it’s like a great beast that rips me to shreds. The pain. I used to have it in the aether all the time. Now, only sometimes. If I wake and it’s dark and cold, that just compounds the problem.”

Idiot.
The candle she’d left burning hadn’t been so he could find his way to bed. It’d been for her. “I’m sorry about the candle.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be.”

“Do you know what the dream is about?”

“No. No idea. Do you know why you are the way you are?”

His heart tripped. He sighed. “Aye. But let’s save that for another night.”

“You’ll tell me?”

“Aye.” The answer almost surprised him, but he’d tell her. He owed her that much, after what she’d revealed to him.

“Will you hold me while we sleep?”

His skin chilled at the thought even as his mind leapt at it. Was he even capable of sleeping despite the discomfort? Or letting down his guard while touching someone? 

But she wasn’t just someone. And she needed him. “Sure. Hang on a second.”

He got up and grabbed the candle from her side of the bed, then walked out and stoked the fire for Mouse. The cat head-butted his legs as he lit the candle in the fire.

As he walked back to the bedroom, he reminded himself of how much he wanted her. He could force the nightmares away for a chance to be with her. If he couldn’t find a way to get over his issues, he couldn’t be with her. That was incentive enough.

Aurora was lying on her side when he returned and he put the candle on the floor near her side of the bed. He climbed in next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her toward him. Her body touched almost every inch of his. Every inch of him burned, but not as badly when she’d touched him before.

His breath came short and his body was awkwardly stiff, so he forced himself to relax. He waited for the dueling sensations of arousal and anxiety, and while the arousal did come, the anxiety wasn’t as bad. Memories of the torture were held at bay by Aurora’s presence.

He sighed and relaxed onto the pallet Maybe he had a chance to be normal, as he’d once been.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Aurora slipped out of bed the next morning as the sun rose. She tugged on the pants she’d draped at the end of the bed and shoved her feet into her shoes, then tiptoed out of the room, grateful when she made it out without waking Felix.

She wanted to see him—too much—but it’d just be too awkward to do so in the place where she’d had her breakdown. She was tough, dammit. A tough soulceress. 

Too bad she didn’t feel like one. The badass that the world thought was
Aurora
... apparently wasn’t. Hell, it was almost as big a shock to her as it would be to anyone who’d known her old reputation.

Fortunately, she didn’t care what they thought. 

She grinned when she saw Mouse, who’d stuck her head out of her egg-shaped bed and was staring at her, purring.

“Want some breakfast?” she asked the cat.

Her familiar shrugged a little shoulder.

“Helped yourself, have you?”

Mouse shrugged again. Of course she’d helped herself. It was one of the perks of having a familiar. They pretty much took care of themselves. Of course they liked it when you prepared food for them, but as long as there was something tasty in the vicinity, they could find it, come hell or cabinet door. The only thing they couldn’t do, of course, was use the can opener. Aurora had caught Mouse working out her rage on a can opener once, but they didn’t speak of it. For the most part, Mouse was a dignified cat with occasional bursts of the ridiculous.

Aurora poked around the little kitchen, looking for something to eat. The remnants of Mouse’s breakfast—a hunk of cheese and a leftover sausage—lay in crumbs on the counter. After a valiant search through the crockery and baskets, Aurora came up with some bread and cheese as well.

She was just making toast over the fire when Felix walked out of the bedroom. His hair was mussed from sleep and his eyes heavy-lidded and he looked so damn good that her mouth completely dried up. 

“Breakfast?” he asked.

“Yep.” She figured she owed him for last night. Not for the sausages he’d cooked, but for the other. The dark of the night helping her fight her demons thing. The aether was the monster that stalked her, but with him standing between it and her in the dark of night, she felt like she could live with it. If only she could keep him. But as long as she felt the urge to take his soul, that wasn’t an option.