Rapture (7 page)

Draven,
Ethan, Blaze, and Raider moved forward as one, each taking a corner of the
panel Gregory lay on and lifting it. Everyone else parted for them, making room
so they could carry the dead from the room. The males passed by, and Ferox and
Raine stepped out together, following them. The other warriors and mates
followed closely behind, through the door and down the hall, then outside into
the cold night. It was silent outside as well, only the sounds of their boots
crunching in the snow breaking up the quiet.

The
trek over the snow-covered ground didn’t take long. They reached the top of a
small hill, where Gregory’s grave had been dug. It was a beautiful spot,
overlooking the grounds, and protected by a half circle of great pines. Raine
kept her hand in Ferox’s and stared up into the clear, starry sky as her boys
prepared to lower Gregory’s body into the ground.

It
was done quietly, and they all crowded around his grave. Raine tossed her rose
inside and it landed on his chest. One by one, they each tossed a long-stem
rose inside, and once the last one had landed, Draven and Ethan began filling
in the grave.

****

Ferox
sat in a chair in the corner of his room, studying Raine’s every move as she
stretched out on the large, king bed. She had just taken a long, hot bath,
filling the room with tropical scents, which only intensified when she’d walked
out of the bathroom. Her hair was wet as it clung to her skin, curling around
her breasts. He hadn’t been able to look at anything else as she’d sauntered
by, though now her full breasts were covered by the rich blues and silvers of
the blankets. Even though her skin was covered, he could still see her curves from
his vantage point, as his erection so clearly demonstrated. The ache in his
groin had his fists clenching, barely keeping him from running headlong for the
woman, mounting her and taking her roughly until he was sated.

Yet,
he resisted.

“I
wish you wouldn’t,” Raine said.

He
blinked, feeling a flush across his face. “What?”

She
laughed. “Never mind. Are you going to stay over there all day?” Raine’s gaze
traveled over him as she sprawled on the bed. “Or are you going to join me?”

Join her?
he thought. He’d more likely romp her until she begged him to
stop. “I’ll stay,” he said, clearing his throat when he heard the roughness in
his voice.

She
sat up, holding the blankets around herself, hiding the skin he so desperately
wanted to see again. “Ferox, I need you. After everything, I … I just
need
you.”

His
fists clenched more, and this time his jaw did the same. Jesus God, how could
he ignore that plea? He was up out of his seat and on the bed in an instant,
crawling over, and ripping the blankets from her body. Her eyes warmed as he
raked his gaze over her flesh, her nipples budding in response. He lay on her,
bending his head to take one breast into his mouth, licking the nipple, sucking
it. His fangs had already descended, and they scraped against her skin. She
arched into him, giving him her breast, pushing it into his mouth. Her hands
were on him, brushing over his back and shoulders, and soon she was pulling his
shirt off over his head. He shifted and yanked the cloth from his arms, tossing
it to the ground.

Raine
worked on his pants next, unbuckling his belt as he ground his hips into her.
He felt every sensation as the movements traveled up his cock and through every
nerve of his body. Soon, he was free of his pants, briefs, and socks, kicking
them off hurriedly at the first skin-to-skin contact in the nether regions. He
moaned at the warmth of her body as he settled between her thighs. And then
they were both moaning and panting, giving into each other with every kiss,
every grope, every caress. She held him to her, her arms wrapped around his
back, her nails clawing his skin. He could feel the wetness at the junction of
her thighs, begging him to enter.

He
didn’t deny her.

With
one fluid movement, he had placed the head of his cock to her core and entered
her, smoothly and quickly. It rocked her hips back into the bed, and her head
fell back as she cried out in bliss. Oh God damn, she felt good. Her tight, hot
sheath welcomed him, pleading for him to ram her, begging for more of him. He
pulled back and shot forward again, grinding into her like a battering ram
eager to break down a door.

And
God damn him, but he’d break it down.

He
peered at her face, seeing a smile there, which gave him monumental pleasure.
She enjoyed this as much as he did. Though when she turned her head, he caught
the barest glimmer across her cheek, and halted his thrusting. “What’s wrong?”

Her
eyes met his, and he recognized both happiness and sadness in her expression.
“I can’t stop thinking about Gregory,” she said. “It’s all my fault.”

“No,
darling,” he soothed, cupping her cheek and smoothing away the hair that had
clung to it. “There isn’t anything you could have done.” He placed a kiss to
her lips, his own barely brushing hers. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,”
she said, gripping his forearms. Her voice had been urgent, but turned into a
whisper. “Don’t stop. Make love to me.
Remember
me.”

Ferox
gently rocked his hips, his cock still long and hard, deep inside her. He did
so for long into the day. Learning her body, learning what she liked, and what
she liked even more. Committing her to memory, so much that he’d never forget.

****

Hours
later, Raine lay against Ferox’s chest, the two of them sweating and panting.
She had her eyes closed, simply enjoying her male—the scent of him, the feel of
him.

His
arms were wrapped around her as he leaned against the headboard with his cheek
nuzzling her hair. Oh gods, how she’d needed him. Ferox had always had a way
about him—a way to make her forget her sorrows. A way to consume her so completely.

She
ran her hand lovingly over his skin, feeling the muscles flex under her
fingertips. If only he could remember her, could remember all the centuries
they’d spent together.

“What’s
bothering you?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Of
course he’d be able to feel the change in her mood. He hadn’t understood his
own sudden changes in emotion earlier, and she’d had to explain the effects of
a blood bond. “Nothing.”

He
exhaled slowly and nuzzled her. “I wish I could remember, too.”

She
turned, facing him as she lay on her stomach with her cheek resting against his
chest. She smiled against him. “You’re getting better at that.”

He
chuckled quietly, more like a silent snort that she could only hear because she
was against him. “I guess so. Why don’t you tell me something about us?” He
re-wrapped his arms and legs around her, enveloping her as much as possible.

She
closed her eyes, grateful that there were still parts of her mate that hadn’t
changed. And now, he wanted to know hints of his past—hints of
their
past. Hmm … where to begin?

Chapter Seven

Tournament of Legends

Over six centuries ago

“So, we cannot kill any of them?”

Raine arched an eyebrow at her
sister, knowing Lisette was more than aware of the rules of the game. The
officials had gone over them more times than she could count: No decapitations
and no strikes to the heart. Dear Odin, every creature fighting in this round
had a bright red shield over their hearts, so there were no accidental mishaps.
Near kills and severing of other limbs was absolutely acceptable though—they
couldn’t take out all of the fun. “I think I did hear something about no
kill-strikes,” she answered jokingly. She returned her focus to what lay ahead.

Her eyes were still trying to adjust
to this realm’s strange lighting. The sky was bright, though it held a slightly
green tint instead of the vivid blues she was used to on
Valhalla
.
And that wasn’t the weirdest part—there was literally no sun that she’d been
able to catch sight of since they’d arrived the day before. She drew her gaze
upward, catching sight of the Council that sat high above, on pillars for them
alone. They were responsible for the tournament. It had been their idea to join
Lore creatures together in a show of unity. Her eyes caught on a few of them
that peered down onto the battlefield, though she could barely see the tops of
their heads. As yet, she hadn’t gotten a good look at any of them, though she
was curious about the beings powerful enough to carry out a huge undertaking
such as this.

“Drat, I had hoped I misheard.”
Lisette stuck out her bottom lip in a fake pout, which quickly turned into a
wry grin as the crowd lining the open stadium seats roared in anticipation.

Raine gripped her war sword, letting
it settle in her palm and become the very extension of her arm that it was. The
sword was hers and hers alone, designed and forged by her half-brother. Every
Valkyrie wielded their own Hjörr, but only Father’s favorites were bestowed a
war sword forged of Thor’s strength and hammer. She dared a peek up at the
spectators as they cheered—the vibrant, writhing colors of the onlookers
drawing her eye as they screamed and shouted. She’d never been in the presence
of so many creatures. In truth, she’d only ever been around Valkyrie. All
around, the arena hung flags representing the current gladiators, while others
gave constant reminders of the “No Kill” rule.

“Crazy, huh,” Lisette said.

Concentration broken, Raine faced
her. “Huh?”

“Isn’t it crazy how many there are?
Did you ever imagine?”

“No.” While she and her sisters were
growing up, training to be warrioresses, she’d never imagined there could be so
many other races in existence. Sure, she was made aware of some during her
training days but this … this was inconceivable.

“When are we going to get this thing
going?” Lisette asked. “I feel as though I’ve been tensed to fight forever.”
She reached across her breast guard and whipped out a dagger. Just like Raine,
she’d come prepared with multiple blades in case the need arose. But, she
didn’t hold it at the ready. Instead, she pried the tip under her fingernails,
cleaning out any dirt that had accumulated.

“You know they live on
anticipation.” The council had done this with every round so far, waiting until
the crowd was cheering so loudly that nothing could be heard over the roar.
“They want to keep everyone on their toes.” Including the gladiators.

A horn sounded, and Raine peered
around at the onlookers as their cheers doubled. Just two more signals and the
game would begin. She twisted her feet back and forth in the dirt, looking down
to make sure the toes of her boots were just behind the line drawn on the
ground. There were forty fighters this round, all of them standing just behind
the line drawn in a wide circle that took up nearly the entire arena.

Another blow of a horn sounded and
Lisette gripped her sword and dagger harder. Raine twisted hers in a small arc
to the side of her, getting a feel for her blade—not that she didn’t know it
well enough. “Remember, we are Valkyrie,” she said, sliding a quick glance at
her sister. “This battleground is ours. For Father.”

“For Father.” Lisette smiled.

The final signal sounded, and they
were off, rushing toward the middle of the arena. Raine’s boots hit the hard
ground, pumping, pumping, faster and faster, taking care to keep an eye on both
sides of her. Every fighter in that round was their enemy. Every single one
must be defeated if they were to make their father proud.

They would not fail.

“Go for the yellow one,” Raine
shouted. “I’ve got your back!”

Lisette sped up, heading for the
yellow flag in the center of the arena. There were only four, which meant there
were only four victors in this challenge.

Raine glanced left, noticing that
the ugly demon beside her kept pace with her as he neared. With its bluish-green
scales, long nose, and horns atop its head, she thought it was a Thallig
demon—if she remembered the faction introductions the night before. He swung
out with his club and she sidestepped, but the brunt end glanced off her thigh.
She slowed a single step and came up behind him, though her leg throbbed,
already begging for a reprieve. He noticed her behind him, and she launched
herself in the air, tackling him to the ground. They rolled once, twice, and
she ended up under the demon. But she had his back, and she had her sword held
to his neck, with both hands holding the blade in place.

The creature stilled and rested his
head against her collarbone, forcing her to breathe through her mouth from its
horrendous stench. He spoke calmly, though she couldn’t understand a single
word he said. No doubt he could speak English. It had been a requirement that
every faction who chose to compete in the tournament was to learn the language
of the Council. Not that Raine or her sisters had to learn it—it was what she
had been taught from birth; the tongue that Father preferred. The second, being
Old Norse whenever Odin chose to speak it for ceremony. Instead of trying to
speak the language though, the demon hiked his thumb toward one of the many
signs that listed the rules of the game.