Rylin's Fire (7 page)

Chapter 12

The couple holding hands across the width of an empty gold fountain represented the dream Dara held of her own future.  Arwen, who’d she’d met briefly, stood erect beside his mate-to-be in black leather pants and a sleeveless silver vest laced down the front. Willow was beautiful dressed in a silver thigh length sheathe, her brown hair up in an elaborate chignon with gold coins pinned amongst the strands.

In between excitement at this joyous moment for Willow, Dara suffered bouts of nerves wondering when she’d see Rylin. She’d been at his castle for a while during the mating preparations and their paths hadn’t crossed yet. Would he be happy or upset at her presence? Doubt assailed Dara and she went over their small interlude together more times than she could count. Had she misunderstood? Perhaps, Rylin changed his mind. She’d gone back and forth so many times with her thoughts, Dara was beginning to make her own self dizzy.  

Stationed with the couple at the front of a room obviously used for ceremonial purposes, Dara felt the burn of dozens of gazes on her. She lifted her chin each time a curious gold stare landed on her standing at the altar beside Willow. Thankfully she managed not to fidget in the garment some Dracol had laid out for her to wear. Formfitting and held together by a single brooch at the shoulder, the black silk hugged her figure and draped her body down to her ankles where her bare toes peeped out.

A quick glance around confirmed Willow’s words that none of the other women would be wearing shoes during the mating either.

Dara’s make-up also matched Willow’s, as per the Dracol custom for a woman who stood for a friend during a mating. Small scrollwork in black lines swirled about her right eye and bright red lipstick stained her mouth in a swath of scarlet. Shades of black powder dusted her eyelids, giving them a smoky appearance.

When Dara first caught sight of her image in a mirror, amazement had held her immobile. She’d tamed her black hair into a sleek wave back from her face, a single gold coin decorating one side to represent good fortune, according to Dracol lure. All together she looked different. Exotic.

A murmur rose from the crowd interrupting her thoughts. Dara remained still, worried any sudden moves would see the silk ripped from her body to pool on the floor, giving the crowd of Dracol’s gathered for the ceremony a special sight.

“All Hail the King!” Someone shouted as the door at the back of the room slammed open.

Rylin. Dara’s heart raced as she spun around to observe her lover as he entered on a determined stride. The crowd parted and there was no missing the respect and space the Dracol gave him. Brows dipped low and mouth compressed in a tight line, Rylin’s fierce expression warned all to give him a wide berth.

He wore an outfit similar to Willow’s groom—or mate as she referred to him but in unrelenting black. An accompanying black cape flared about Rylin’s shoulders and flapped at his sides. Gold bands bracketed his bare upper arms and wrists.

Four men flanked him in black pants and matching sleeveless vests with ceremonial swords belted at their hips. Her heart thumped in her chest. They could have had a theme song playing in the background, their entrance was so dramatic.

When Rylin reached the front of the room, their gazes met and time came to a sudden stand still. His steps faltered and eyes widened in surprise. Dara’s lips parted and her thighs quivered at the passionate heat that exploded between them.

Rylin’s gold eyes flared and he slowed to a stop beside her, allowing his stern mask to slip. Dara licked her lips, unsure if speaking was allowed at this point. Willow’s instructions very clearly stated she wanted Dara to stand and say yes when she was asked if she supported the mating, but otherwise, silence was expected.

Rylin touched Dara’s chin with a pointer finger and lifted her face this way and that, his amber stare burning a hole right through her. His gaze paused on the markings about her eye, darkening with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

He moved closer, their thighs brushing, and Dara’s core moistened in reaction to being in such close proximity to him after two days of silence. She wanted to be angry. Indignant at the lack of contact when he’d promised to come for her. But in this moment, her only thought was one of extreme desire. 

“Rylin?” Dara whispered, keeping her voice low.

He shook his head abruptly in admonishment and she clamped her lips tight. His fingers trailed over her face. Everywhere he touched, small bursts of heat tickled her senses. His thumb brushed the dip in her bottom lip, but still he didn’t speak. In annoyance, Dara nipped his finger.

Flames of passion lit his gaze even as his upper lip curled, revealing a hint of sharp teeth. Fear skittered along Dara’s spine. This was not a man to trifle with. She searched hard for a glimpse of the lover who’d held her tenderly and made promises. Only the eyes of a dangerous predator stared back. Dara flinched.

At last, Rylin released her chin with a soft caress across her cheek and stepped back. Then, as if the moment hadn’t occurred, he wiped his face clear of all expression and took his place in front of the fountain.

Silence fell about the room and Dara realized Rylin’s actions had shifted the focus from the couple to her during those brief moments. She shot him a glare, but his lips curled up on the side as he slid the hood of his robe about his face, obscuring his features, and raised his arms above his head.

“Willow of the Black is here to accept the pledge of Arwen of the Silver. We wish her well on her journey. May she be his most treasured
lira
.” Rylin paused and his head shifted in Dara’s direction.

Though she couldn’t see his face, she knew he looked directly at her. “On behalf of the Black, do you support Willow’s mating, Dara of Earth?” 

Dara nodded. “I do.”

“Then let the Goddess of Fate bless the union.” Rylin faced Willow. “Do you give up your place among the Black, little one?”

Willow’s gleeful smile split her face and she nodded eagerly. “Yes!”

Arwen’s rich chuckle burst forth, as did others. Rylin lowered his arms and pressed his palms together. A fireball flared to life and hovered over his hands. Dara jerked and Rylin’s head tipped towards her again.

Flushing, Dara ducked her head.

Rylin continued. “By the power of the mantle, I declare Willow mated as
lira
to Arwen and under the Silver sect.”  

***

Ry passed the flame that represented Willow’s connection to the Black over to Arwen, who accepted it with a pleased grin. The orange glow flickered in Arwen’s palm before being absorbed beneath his skin and fading. From now on, Willow would not be under Rylin’s mantle and only Faris, King to the Silver, would sense her going forth.

“It is done!” Ry shouted and shoved back the hood from his face.

Willow and Arwen reached for one another to exchange a passionate kiss while cheers and whistles went up. When Willow’s parents drew near, Ry moved away to give them privacy, his gaze going to the woman who stalked his dreams.

Nothing could have surprised him more than seeing Dara stand for Willow. He wasn’t sure how the two knew each other, but his Dracol pulled at Ry in an effort to get close to her. Giving in to the urge, Ry leaped the short distance between them and lowered his voice. “We must talk.”

Dara’s chin tipped up and her brows narrowed. “You want to talk now?”

She was angry about their time apart. Ry steeled his heart for what he needed to do. He’d thought long and hard over his plan after his conversation with Nolan last night. “Yes.”

“What’s wrong, Rylin?” she whispered, dropping her annoyed tone. “Why didn’t you come for me?”

“We need to talk,” he repeated.

Her green eyes darkened and her lips firmed. A determined sniff preceded her sharp, “Fine.”

Ry couldn’t resist a brief touch of his fingers gliding over her shoulders as he aimed her in the direction of his rooms. She shifted away and the first fissure in his heart slid through. She hadn’t pulled away when they last spent time together. He wanted to grip her tight and force her to remember that she’d craved his touch then. Begged for it. But that would go against his attempt to save her life.

They made the walk in silence, Ry fighting his Dracol for control every step, when his essence only wanted to curl around Dara and keep her safe. He entered his suite but didn’t take them further than his office.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Dara glared and put her hands on her hips. “So talk.”

He didn’t waste time telling her the truth. “We can’t be together.”

“Rylin.” Her tense posture fell, hurt flashing across her face as she hurried toward him.

He easily stepped aside to avoid her touch. She couldn’t hide her flinch. “You should go. Return to your planet.”

“What?”

He’d shocked her with his words, her lovely skin going pale. Ry took a deep breath and kept his eyes on hers as he spoke in a softly determined voice. “I was impulsive when I asked you to be my
lira
. To stay and bond with me. I’m withdrawing the offer.”

She jerked once more as if taking a blow and Ry had to clench his jaw to hold back a growl.

“Did something happen? Is there more you aren’t telling me?” Dara extended her hand to reach for him.

If she placed one hand on him, he’d cave. Ry turned his back on her and walked toward his desk, putting the furniture between them to still his own crawling need to pick her up in his arms and hold her tight. “There’s nothing more to tell. I’ve changed my mind. I believe you Earth females are familiar with that.”

Dara’s sharp gasp had him glancing over his shoulder to witness how his words affected her. Only her right hand fisted, but coupled with her narrow stare, it was enough for Ry to determine her anger. And confusion. His gut churned in remorse.

“So what we shared was…just sex?”

Her words were like daggers to his heart as he lied. “Yes. I told you the Earth females who visited before you made it clear they expected nothing more from us.”

“That wasn’t me!” Dara stormed over, standing on the opposite side of his desk, chest heaving. Her hands planted on the surface as she leaned forward. “We went over that. We laughed, we kissed.” Her words broke. “We made love, Rylin.”

 His chest tightened in response to her whispered words. Along with the glint of tears in the midst of her green stare, they created an ache deep in his core. He grappled with the urges of his Dracol, seeking to get near her and shoved back his instinctive need to soothe. Ry had to convince her he meant what he said and get her far away from the rogue killings. His voice dropped, became deeper. “And I’m saying we’re done. There’s no more for you here, Dara.”

“I don’t believe you.” Her chin went up, shoulders rigid as she came around the desk and cornered him.

Ry moved until he couldn’t go any further. With his back to the wall, he had no way to avoid Dara. Goddess don’t let her touch me, he mentally pleaded. His heart pounded like a drum.

Dara traced his jaw line, her eyes following her fingers then she did something completely at odds with the conversation they were having.

She kissed his cheek. He tensed, stomach knotting. Her lips pressed to his ear. Softly. Ry contained his shudder as despair welled. He eased around her, giving himself space, and slid his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. The distance gave him the power to shut off his feelings.

The corners of her mouth dipped down. “Rylin?”

“Leave, Dara.”

***

A coldness she hadn’t expected emanated from Rylin. His stony expression unnerved her as he basically told her to get out of his life. She placed her palm over her eyes in a futile effort to hide her tears.