Rapture (21 page)

Raine smoothed her fingers over one
side of the boulder as Ferox took the other half. Both felt with only the dim
light of the symbols to guide them, though he had a feeling he could see a bit
better than she could.

“Wait,” he said a second later. “I
think I found something.”

It wasn’t a smooth surface, nor
anything in the rock itself. To the side of the opening was a small space
containing what appeared to be a lever. He yanked downward, and the boulder
grinded as the two pieces parted. Light filtered in, and he had to lift his hands
to cover his eyes. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to being out in the light,
but so far, this realm hadn’t shown him any hint of an actual sun. Raine
stepped out first, and he followed her, both of them freezing in place as four
contestants peered at them with slack jaws. They were each facing the massive
cliff wall, while gawking at Raine and Ferox over their shoulders.

No words were spoken as the others
rushed toward them, both Raine and Ferox going on the defense. They’d both have
to protect themselves and what their packs held if they had any hope of winning
the round.

Two crushed into Raine at the same
time, and he noticed with surprise that she had actually taken a few steps
toward them, taking them on without a hint of fear. She fought them, and Ferox
hesitantly looked away as the first of his own opponents reached him, running
headlong and tackling him to the ground. Ferox spun on the ground, gripping the
demon’s arms tight as he twisted. The demon wailed as the first crack of bone
sounded.

The other was on him then, and he
roared as its claws raked his flesh, tearing it apart at his forearm. Had he
not reacted quickly, he would have lost it. He pushed to his feet and barreled
forward, gripping the bastard by his shoulders and slamming him against the
rocky wall, rock and dust spraying with every shove. Over and over he drove his
head into the wall, each time earning a grunt as his opponent tried to fight
him off. The demon slumped to the ground, and Ferox turned, flashing toward
Raine’s battle and lifting one of her attackers into the air before slamming
him to the ground. He roared, smelling the intoxicating scent of the Valkyrie’s
blood, freshly spilled, and a lot of it. He yanked a blade from his pocket and
shoved it into the demon’s shoulder, not stopping until he felt the grind of
rock below. That’d hold the fucker.

He faced Raine, who was still
fighting a demon—another female who was twice her size. Raine was still in the
game, still fighting hard even though a sword was sticking from her side. She
was on her ass, and kicked out with so much force that the demoness flew off
her, landing twenty feet away. She rolled up and bolted in again as Raine rose
to her feet, trying to pull the blade free. She screamed, only freeing it an
inch before she was forced to fight again. Ferox’s first opponent had reached
him again, though much weaker than he’d been before. With some quick thought
and even faster flashing, he carried the bastard to the edge of the cliff they
stood on and dropped him before rushing back to Raine’s side. He reached the
demoness and, with another dagger in hand, plunged it into the female’s
stomach, then kicked her back, sending the blade straight through her body
until it
clunked
on the ground where she’d stood. With a cursory glance at the two
remaining opponents, he calculated the likelihood that either would stand to
fight again, and figured he had a good enough chance to get Raine and himself
the hell out of there, and on their way to the final round.

“Are you well?” he asked, kneeling
by Raine’s side. The scent of her blood had his fangs aching for a taste, and
seeing it flow freely—gods, he didn’t know what she’d think of him if she saw
him needing her so badly. He forced his lips over his fangs, trying to keep
that side of himself hidden from her.

“Fine. No, no … don’t touch it,” she
whimpered as he reached for the sword hilt. “It hurts too much.”

“Did it hit an organ?”

She nodded. “Pretty sure.” She
glanced at the sky above, which he’d noticed had filled in with dark grey clouds.
A single tear escaped and slid down her cheek. “Shit.”

He placed a hand to her cheek a
wiped away the tear as her eyes met his. “It’s not your heart, and I see that
your head is still attached.”

She gave him the briefest of smiles.

He glanced at her wound again,
before his eyes returned to hers. “It will hurt, but I can get it free.”

“I know.” She brought her hand up to
cover his. “I was so close to winning this, and now….” Her voice dropped away
as her gaze landed on the sword protruding from her stomach.

“And now what?”

“I’ll never be able to fight the
rest of the tournament. I doubt they’ll give me a week to heal from this before
the final round begins.”

Ferox glanced down at her gaping
wound as well, trying to ignore the intense hunger at the sight of so much
blood. He had once told her that a vampire’s hunger didn’t work that way, and
at the time, one of her sisters was lying on a table, bleeding out. It had been
true then, but now, he did hunger for Raine. His jaw tightened, hoping—praying
to any gods that would listen—that she wouldn’t recognize his hunger lust. The
sword had most certainly run through at least one organ. There just wasn’t
anywhere else they could be, not with as tiny as her stomach was. “You will
fight again, Raine. You’ll finish the tournament.”

She shook her head, wincing as she
moved. “It’s impossible.”

“It is not. I’ll pull it free, and
you’ll … you will drink from me.”

He’d expected that scandalized look
of hers to make an appearance, and it might have if she hadn’t been in so much
pain. The fact that only a hint of it appeared made his worry over the female
quadruple. “I’ll not give you a choice.”

Raine’s breathing increased, and she
rested more fully on her arms, which were spread behind her. She searched his
face, her gaze landing on his lips and cheeks, then on up to his eyes. “You
won’t hurt me?”

His own gaze never strayed from hers
as he said, “I will never hurt you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut then and
nodded. “Then do it. I trust you.”

He pushed to his feet, finding a small
stick to place in her mouth. “Here, bite on this.” When she had it resting
loosely between her upper and lower teeth, he took hold of the sword’s hilt
with his right hand as he placed the other to her abdomen. “Want me to tell you
what I’ll do before I do it?”

She shook her head, mumbling what he
took to be, “God, no.”

Grinding his teeth together, he gave
a long, slow exhale and gently pulled on the sword. Raine screeched and
screamed, her body writhing. And that was why he’d placed his hand on her, knowing
that he would need to support and restrain her in order to pull the blade free
of her body. He held her down, continuing to pull the sword out, inch by slow
inch, as the crash of lightning sounded all around, growling angrily with each
strike. He had faith that he wouldn’t be struck though, believing that he could
instill as much trust in Raine as she did in him right now.

Finally the blade was free, and
Raine flipped on her side, retching up whatever she’d actually had in her
stomach. He gave her a moment as she cried and shook, holding a hand to the
gaping wound as blood gushed from it. A minute was all he could give her
though. It was all he could do to keep himself quiet, wanting nothing more than
to take her in his arms and hold her, comforting her from her pain.

He stepped around her, preparing to
score his own wrist when he spotted blood spilling from her lips. He glanced at
the stain where she’d just retched, finding it to be all blood. “Fuck,” he
said, dropping beside her. “I’ve got to give this to you now!” There was no
telling the damage done inside her tiny body, but she clearly wasn’t doing too
well. Not waiting for any type of response from Raine, he bit into his wrist,
hard and fast, and pressed it to her lips. He held her to it, waiting as she
gagged and sputtered, pressing her tongue to his skin to stop the flow, and
then finally when she gave in and drank his blood. His cock throbbed every bit
as much as his fangs did; the sensation of her taking from him so much more
intense and sexual than he’d ever thought possible. He’d given and taken blood
from female vampires before, and needless to say it had been pleasurable, but
feeling Raine suck as her tongue massaged the bite marks, taking his lifeblood
into her body … Gods. She moaned against his skin, her eyes closing in bliss as
she licked and sucked, and he groaned in response, barely avoiding the need to
press the bulge of his erection against her.

And just then, a startling
revelation came to him, something within his very Instinct that he felt in
every fiber of his being: This couldn’t have felt more right.

****

The
dungeons in Odin’s Hall, Valhalla

Present
Day

Raine’s
eyes darted rapidly back and forth as she blinked herself into the land of the
fully awake. With her head lolled forward as much as it would go, she realized
she was no longer lying on a table, having been maneuvered so she was now
strung from limb to limb, with only the light of day seeping in through the
grates high above her. To the right and left, she saw her hands and wrists
bound in wide manacles, though that was not what captured her attention.
Scratched into her flesh on both arms, were the names: Ferox, Draven, Ethan,
and Riley. Certainly she knew who they were. They were her mate and sons.

She
smiled to herself. She hadn’t forgotten. Darla hadn’t succeed, or at least, not
yet.

She
took stock of the things that had happened to her since her abduction. She was
in a Valkyrian dungeon; the workmanship was unmistakable. Caleen, Raven, and
Odette were in separate cells. She thought they were awake, but none of them
spoke. The dungeon stank of mildew, sweat, dirt, and blood.

Her
head fell forward until her chin met her chest. She simply couldn’t hold it up
any longer. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing and taking inventory
of herself. She felt whole—or at the very least, she thought she did, other
than the ache in her heart that her Ferox was nowhere near. He likely never
would be again, she thought.

No.
She would be with him again. She would not give up. Darla had thus far failed
at wiping her memory of her mate and sons. Who knew if she could even
accomplish it? What if she only pretended to lose her memory in the process?

Closing
her eyes once more, she focused on her memories. She recalled a time, centuries
ago, when Ethan was four years old, and she’d sat down to dinner with the
family. Ferox was bouncing Ethan on his knee while Draven proved just how big
his appetite had gotten by challenging Damion to an eating contest. Draven had
won, she recalled, but he’d spent the rest of the day paying for it. She
chuckled out loud, remembering how childish he’d become, wanting his mommy to
take care of him. Ferox and Damion’s parents, Drök and Leelian, were at the
other end of the grand table, the two holding hands in marital bliss as they
whispered sweet nothings to each other—though everyone had heard every word
whispered between them. Ferox had winked at Raine, and they had all laughed,
except for Damion who never had been completely comfortable around the whole
family….

“I’ve
never seen someone hold on so strong.”

Raine’s
eyes flashed open at the female’s voice, growing irritated that she’d had the
nerve to interrupt her memory. The female stepped inside the dungeon, followed
by someone else, though both were hidden within the shadows. The Valkyrie
stepped into view, and Raine’s throat dropped to her stomach as she saw the
female. Darla. She’d barely been able to keep her rage in check, deciding her
energy was better spent playing the part that might get her free.

Her
gaze landed on the other person who had entered the room with Darla, feeling
shocked at the sight of him. Her brother, Thor, stared up at her, a look of
pure horrification on his face as he glanced over her from head to toe. She did
note, however, that he covered his reaction when Darla faced him. “Ask her what
you will, so Father knows we’re making progress.”

Thor
gave her no response other than to enter Raine’s cell. “Sister,” he greeted.
“How long has it been since we last saw one another?”

“A
few centuries, dear brother.”

“How
many, would you say?” His eyes met hers as he looked up, his gaze never
straying from her own.

Hmm,
she thought. If she stuck with the memory of four-year-old Ethan, and the fact
that time moved about twice as fast in Valhalla, then that would put her at….
“About eight, I believe, dear brother.”

Thor’s
eyes flashed with horror. He blinked and smiled. “It does my heart good to see
you. How has your life treated you?”

“I’ve
been blessed,” she responded, though speaking took any strength she had started
to gain.

“Are
you still living with your mate and sons in Vampur?”