Savage Lessons (Temple of Luna #3) (4 page)

Wouldn't that make Hektor's words true?
a tiny, reasonable voice asked. She'd wrenched away his control with singular skill. If anyone deserved a silver robe, it was Lexa.

Assuming he hadn't hurt her when he'd taken her.

Dejan closed his eyes and sank to the ground. "I let her push more than she should have."

Hektor said nothing for a moment. "Good Goddess, Dej, what happened?"

He'd lost his head. Lost control. Taken her like a man crazed for touch instead of a teacher testing a student. "I don't know. Celine is with her now."

"I don't understand."

Of course he wouldn't. Dejan scrubbed a hand across his face and wondered how many showers he'd have to take before the scent of her skin faded completely. "I
don't know
."

"Shit." Hektor rose, his boots thumping on the walk. "Do -- Do you want me to go check?"

"No. Celine will summon me when she's good and ready." And probably make him wait in misery as punishment.

His colleague looked skeptical. "Can I do anything?"

"No."

Hektor backed away at his surly response. "Then I'll be on my way."

It meant brooding on his own, but Dejan preferred that. He didn't bother to apologize as Hektor took his leave, too intent on the tablet he'd dumped on the grass next to him. It would chime soon, indicating a message from Celine. It would.

It
had
to, because he wouldn't survive if his carelessness had damaged the brilliant power in Lexa's body.

When Lexa woke, the room was dark. She could barely make out the outline of someone sitting in a chair by the bed, but her senses told her it was Celine, not Dejan.

She sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest. "What are you doing here?"

Celine glanced up from the tablet in her hands, her expression guarded. "How do you feel?"

Her muscles were a little sore, but she mostly felt tired. "I'm fine, Celine. Is this part of my test?" There had to be a reason Dejan had left without a word.

The high priestess's tension eased, but only marginally. "No. I'm not sure if I should commend you or turn you over my knee right now. Do you understand what you did?"

Lexa trembled as she swung her legs off the edge of the bed. "Something wrong, I take it?"

"Something inadvisable for a novice." Celine tapped her tablet and held it out. "I'd like you to read the message I received from Dejan."

The message was terse and heartbreaking.
Snapped. Lexa seems physically unharmed but there could be damage. You were out of your mind to trust me with a novice, and I'm never going to forgive either of us for it.

Lexa bit her lip. Her pride had pushed her to push
him
, and what she'd given him was a far cry from the comfort a priestess was supposed to provide.

Something inside her protested the harsh judgment, whispered that what she'd offered hadn't felt wrong or calculated. It had felt like freedom.

But his words were unmistakable. She felt lighter than she had in years, but Dejan was in torment, damning himself for what he'd taken at her request. It was unforgivably selfish, to take pleasure and deliver pain in return.

She handed the tablet back to Celine. "I have no excuse."

Celine's smile was gentle. "You need no excuse. You did the job of a priestess, even though you're yet a novice. Dejan's suffering is the result of a colossal ego and the delusion that no woman can ever be his equal, much less best him."

That wasn't quite true, but Lexa only nodded. "What do we do now?"

"Leave Dejan to me. You're going to be busy packing your things."

Packing.
She panicked until she realized what Celine must mean. She'd be moving to other quarters, out of the wing housing the novices and initiates. "No more tests or training?"

"You set a test I never would have given you." Celine rose and tucked the tablet into her belt. "And you passed beyond any expectation. You should be proud."

Yes, she should have been. But the expected surge of triumph didn't come. Instead, she felt oddly empty. "The announcement will be made at dinner?"

"Mmm. Unless you're not feeling up to it...?"

"No, that's fine." She had to accept her ceremonial goblet in front of the Temple, before she could receive her robes. "I look forward to it."

Celine started toward the door, but paused after a few steps and turned. "You
are
all right, aren't you?"

Lexa forced a smile. "I'm fine. This is a big achievement, that's all."

"Of course. I'll let Dejan know that you're fine. And I promise you he'll be fine, too."

She sounded confident, and Lexa only wished she shared the feeling.

By the time Celine motioned for Lexa to approach the head table, the place of honor reserved for the most elite priestesses of the Temple, people had already begun to talk.

Dejan's gaze followed her, intense enough to feel like a hot caress. He sat with the other trainers at their table in the corner, a lone circle of masculinity in the sea of women.

Most everyone had kept their comments and speculation out of earshot, but Lexa knew they could only be saying one thing. Dejan's stare was too blatant, too obvious to allow for too much interpretation.

She held her head high as she walked to the front table and knelt before it. "Thank you for the invitation, Celine."

"Lexa." The high priestess gestured with one graceful hand. "A silver robed priestess kneels only before her King and her Goddess. Come and sit with us."

The hush in the dining hall was deafening, and Lexa fought the blush that rose as she took an empty seat at the end of the table.

It left her with a clear line of sight to Dejan, who hesitated for an endless moment as silence turned to whispers, whispers to scattered applause. Someone shouted a congratulations, someone else laughed in delight. Dejan inclined his head, a slow, graceful nod that gave respect even as lust burned in his eyes.

A shudder took her. She still wanted him and, this time, it had nothing to do with her ambition. It had everything to do with the way he'd touched her, and the way he watched her now.

Sudden, savage anger rocked her. She'd finished her training now, and dalliances between priestesses and trainers were forbidden. She could never have him again, and he'd deprived her of the few slow, lazy minutes she could have spent with him still inside her, his skin against hers.

He'd cheated her.

Lexa lifted her chin and glared at him.

His jaw clenched. The strong, dangerous hands he'd stroked over her body fisted on the table, but he met her challenge and returned it, the cocky tilt of one eyebrow comment enough.

If she knew what was good for her, she'd ignore him. Forget he even existed. Instead, she lifted her new silver goblet and licked the rim before taking a delicate sip of wine.

The look he gave her could have singed the clothes off her back.

The woman to her left cleared her throat, and the sound jolted Lexa into looking away. She'd have to watch herself, or everyone at the Temple would think there was something going on between her and Dejan.

And there wasn't. There couldn't be.

There
wouldn't
be.

By the time the evening meal ended, Dejan didn't know if he wanted to kill himself or Celine. All he knew for certain was that Lexa gazed on him like a woman torn between rage and lust, and his body ached with the possibilities.

She was furious, and he didn't blame her. He'd earned her ire a hundred times over, but when she gazed at him in pure, feminine challenge, the beast inside refused to back down. He'd snapped. He'd claimed.

Now he
needed
. And could not have.

Or
should
not have. The rules of the Temple were important, but rules were nothing when weighed against the feral hunger inside him. Not just the need to possess, but to comfort. To reassure himself that he hadn't hurt her, body or mind.

He might not be sure if he wanted to kill Celine, but Celine would almost certainly murder him if she discovered him lurking in an alcove, waiting for the newest priestess of Luna.

He smelled her before he saw her -- the clean, floral scent of her perfume, the soft musk of her skin. And, underneath it all, the traces of
him
. Proof she'd accepted his claim, at least a little, because outright rejection would have purged the lingering feel of his magic twined with hers.

She stopped short and took a half step back. "Dejan," she murmured, her voice husky and low.

It was so easy to reach out and tug her into the alcove. The hallway was private, but not private enough to eliminate the risk. She was a priestess, now. Off limits to a trainer.

When she lifted her face and met his eyes, all traces of her anger had vanished. She looked wary instead. Cautious.

He lifted a hand and traced the curve of her cheek, reveling in the soft skin under his fingertips. "I'm sorry."

The firm line of her mouth softened. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"No?" He let his hand fall away. "I would disagree."

Lexa turned her head, averting her gaze and leaving him staring at the bare, tempting line of her throat. "You did your job."

"No. I did not." He caught her chin and urged her to look at him. "If I'd done my job, I would have spent a week learning you. Maybe more. I wouldn't have lost my grip on sanity and forced you to do the job of a priestess while you were yet a novice."

Her breath caught. "It doesn't matter. The end result is the same."

Not for them. His craving for her continued unabated. So many things he'd never done, so many ways he hadn't gotten a chance to touch her. He slid his thumb over her full lower lip and inhaled the heady scent of her. "No. It's not."

The anger she was taking such obvious pains to hide broke through. "Then perhaps you shouldn't have run from the training room as soon as you were done with me."

He deserved it, but he hadn't expected her pain to tear at him quite so much. "It wasn't like that, but I'm apologizing for that too."

"Celine showed me your message."

Celine was a meddlesome bitch. "It wasn't my finest moment. I was worried."

"You wouldn't have had to be if you'd
stayed
."

"You could have been hurt. Or scared. Celine would have thrown me from the Temple if I took chances with your welfare."

Lexa stepped away, into the hallway. "So you left? That seems like a bizarre way to make sure someone's all right."

He winced, because it sounded callous. "There are protocols in place that I hope you never understand."

She seemed to consider that. "Fair enough." She took another step. "I accept your apology."

"And you run."

She didn't bother to argue. "I run."

"From a half-feral wolf." Surely she knew what instincts she'd rouse, what torture it would be to keep himself from giving chase.

Her eyes flashed anger again, though she quickly lowered her lashes to disguise it. "I have no choice."

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and he dragged her deeper into the alcove, tucking them both tight into the shadows. She gripped his shoulders, her nails sharp through his clothing, and finally opened her eyes when the intruding footsteps faded.