Unforgettable Lover (4 page)

She sensed the moment of his orgasm, blood filling his shaft just a tad more before he came. He stilled, his grip on her hips tight as he pumped inside her. His orgasm triggered hers, and she clenched him as he filled her with his semen. Pure, feminine satisfaction raced through her veins. 

When they were both spent, they lay on the ground. He spooned her, cradling her butt against him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and his breath tickled the back of her neck. A peace and contentment she’d never known filtered into her senses. She longed to stay here, in his embrace, but they had to get back. The sun would be up within the hour. 

She turned in his arms to look at him. His gaze searched her face. He traced a finger down the side of her mask, over the skin on her cheek, and around her chin. His thumb stroked her bottom lip before he kissed her again. 

He pulled back, and rested his head in his hand. A slow smile curved his gorgeous mouth. When he spoke, his deep voice resonated into her chest. “Tell me your name.” 

She tensed. Unable to speak, her vocal cords smashed together from her fear. She sat up. His marking taunted her, forcing her to face reality. He was the prince. She was a merchant’s daughter. He couldn’t find out who she was. As much as she’d enjoyed their time together, the memories were all they had. 

She bent to kiss him one last time. Quick as she could, she stood. 

“Hey, what’s going on—” 

She grabbed her shoes and blouse off the ground and pulled her skirt from the branches. She glanced at him. He watched her, but didn’t move to stop her. Before she changed her mind, she raced into the woods and didn’t look back.

Chapter Six

As the female left through the forest, she’d taken more than just her clothes with her. Somehow, she’d taken Nicholai’s heart as well. An empty feeling carved a place for itself in his gut, like a dull knife with a grudge. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Her scent still lingered in the air. He relished the sweet fragrance of honey, committing it to memory. One way or another, he’d find her. He shook his head, trying to clear the beast from his mind.

He’d asked for her name. What was he thinking? To expose oneself during Betram was a direct invitation to bond. A chill rose along his arms. Thank the gods she’d refused.

Deep inside, his beast growled its discontent. 

He stood and grabbed his pants. A wave of anger and frustration rose within him, and he clenched the material in his fist. With a firm thrust, he pushed his foot into the pant leg. 

Snap. 

He stilled.
He was at a huge disadvantage with his pants around his knees, and buck naked to boot. In his musing, he hadn’t heard anyone approach. The female had really turned his brain to mush.

 He glanced behind him, nostrils flared, breathing in the scents around him. Gaetan’s and Riktar’s unique essence filled the air.

His tense muscles relaxed, and he put his other leg through the pants. As he buttoned the fly, his two companions joined him.

“Wow, what a night!” Riktar slapped Nicholai on the back. “I nailed three females. They wanted a party, who was I to refuse.” 

Nicholai stared at the male. Riktar wore his battle gear—black pants and a woven button-down shirt. He’d left his sword behind, just as Nicholai had, but the male’s belt contained numerous blades. His dark hair, pulled back in a short queue, accentuated his status as a warrior. No wonder the females had flocked to him. 

“Have a little respect.” Nicholai didn’t know Riktar well. Given the soldier’s derogatory comment, Nicholai had no regrets about keeping his distance from him. 

Riktar shot him a glance and his lip curled. “Ok,
Prince
, how’d you do?”

Nicholai shook his head. “As if I would tell you.” He tied the laces on his boot. The normalcy of the process giving him a distraction.

Gaetan raised his cane. “I’m tired. I’m not in the mood for this banter.” He peered at Nicholai. “Are you on your way to the portal?” 

I wonder how Gaetan fared tonight.
The Haelen’s face had a few more lines, and the bags under his eyes seemed to drag him down. He looked tired, and that meant he’d most likely participated in the ritual. 

Nicholai couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah. Heading there now.” The brightening sky was a good indication that the sun would be up soon. 

“Good. I could use the company.” Gaetan looked at Riktar and raised an eyebrow. “You coming?”

“Already did.” The arrogant male’s laugh echoed off the trees.

Nicholai’s beast stirred.
Yes, I want to bash his brains, too.
 

Sssssnap.

“Looks like our night’s not quite done.” Gaetan’s grip on his staff tightened.

The astringent, rubbing alcohol scent of his enemy filtered into Nicholai’s senses and burned his throat. He wished he had his sword. The dagger at his belt would provide some protection, but not much. By the intensity of the smell, he guessed there were at least five Gossum.
Time to let the beast out.

Branches in the nearby pine tree quivered with a quiet rustle. A Gossum slithered from the lowest limb, landing on its feet in the soft dirt. The hairless creature could pass for the primitive brown-skinned humans who lived in small tribes, except for shiny, black eyes and the scales that ran down its back. Muscular and powerful, the evil being exuded confidence. Its comrades joined him, and then there were five. 

Time seemed to slow. Nicholai released his beast, letting the connections in his brain link together, bonding the two inextricably as one. Long hair grew over his body, covering him from head to foot. His pants and boots disappeared beneath the fur. Short, pointy tusks protruded from his jaw. The beast let out a roar. 

A Gossum lashed out its long tongue, the pointed barb on the end nearly connecting with Nicholai’s arm. He gripped the slippery organ and yanked the creature to him. Sharp claws dug into his leg. The blade-like nails ripped a gash from his thigh to his buttocks. The pain fueled his hatred. 

Thunk. Thunk.

Out of the corner of his eye, a Gossum slid down the trunk of a tree. Two daggers, one in each eye, protruded from the dead beast.
Good throw, Riktar.

Using the preternatural strength inherent in his kind, he picked up the creature and launched it into a nearby tree. The Gossum’s body contorted into an odd position, its back broken where the creature connected with the old oak. Sticky, black goo formed on the ground, the only evidence the Gossum had ever existed.

Nicholai turned to face the remaining threat. Riktar battled one of the creatures near a boulder. The male had transformed into his beast, and at nearly nine feet, he towered over the enemy. The seasoned warrior could hold his own. 

Crack. Crack.

Wood clashing against flesh and bone sent a chill over Nicholai’s arms.
Gaetan!

Farther away, two Gossum surrounded his friend. One attacked, the end of his long tongue striking Gaetan on the leg. The venom numbed the limb, forcing him to kneel, rendering his good leg as useless as his deformed one. 

Nicholai froze. Fear wound its way around his muscles like a snake, holding him tight. His friend would die if he didn’t help him. A fierce burn flared to life on his shoulder as his courage, along with his marking, faded. 

Gaetan held both ends of his staff, using the wood as a shield against barbed tongues. One of the Gossum landed on Gaetan’s back and bit him on the shoulder. The other creature continued to pelt him with its stinger.

A rage built within Nicholai, breaking his fear, and he raced to help his friend.

 “
Craya!
What’s wrong with you?” Riktar, having finished off the other Gossum, ran alongside Nicholai. The warrior pulled a knife from his waistband and ripped the creature off Gaetan. He stabbed it in the chest. He must’ve hit the heart, for the creature sagged and turned to slime.

Nicholai took out his frustration on the remaining Gossum, ripping the creature to shreds with his hands. With the threat gone, Nicholai changed back into his human form and raced to Gaetan’s side.

“For the love of Lemuria, why didn’t you help him sooner?” 

Riktar’s words dug deep into Nicholai. How could he explain his fear, his doubt, his knowledge that anyone he cared about got injured as a result of him. Tonight was confirmation, yet again, of that fact.

Nicholai helped Riktar lay the wounded Haelen on the soft ferns. Red welts from the Gossum’s stingers marred his arms. Holes in his pants displayed similar marks on his legs. 

Gaetan’s pained moan drove a stake in Nicholai’s heart. A part of him wished the Gossum had wounded him instead of Gaetan.

“Do something helpful. Call for a portal.” Riktar’s pursed lips and drawn eyebrows displayed his disgust.

“There’s not enough energy, not with the giant gateway used for the Betram ritual. We’ll have to carry him.” Nicholai placed his hand under Gaetan’s shoulder.

Riktar yanked the unconscious healer from Nicholai’s grasp. “I’ll do it.” 

Nicholai met Riktar’s gaze. When the warrior spoke, his voice was low, concerned. “I’ve been on the battlefield with you many times. You’ve never froze like that before. What happened?”

“I don’t have an answer for you.” Not one he was willing to give, anyway.

Riktar shook his head and walked toward the portal, carrying their precious cargo.

Nicholai followed, his burden weighing heavy in his soul.

Chapter Seven

Nicholai—his strength, his soft mouth, his sensual touch—filled Leonna’s mind. Her skin heated at the memory of all they’d done during the Betram ritual. Her lips were still swollen from his kisses, and she pursed them together, enjoying the slight tingle. An ache rippled through her chest. She’d never feel his mouth on her again.

She hurried through the hallways. Others on their way to their daily work filled the crowded corridor. Leonna had overslept, and she’d be late to the cart—again. She bumped into a Jixie carrying a large iron hammer, the kind used in forging the warriors’ swords. He impeded her progress, and slowed her down, fueling her frustration all the more. 

Laughter and loud voices preceded her as she entered the merchant’s market. The vendors were already in full swing, selling their wares to the throng of customers eager to spend their hard-earned sunstones. Leonna pushed her way past a female with a young babe in her arms. The child slept, his long lashes brushing against his smooth skin. A pang of envy hit Leonna in the chest, startling her. She’d never wanted a young one before, why now? An image of Nicholai formed in her mind, and her nipples peaked beneath her shirt. She inhaled and bit her lip.

Maman helped a customer at the cart, putting a jar filled with the golden honey into her bag. Leonna squeezed past, picked up the jars, and stacked them on the display. The customer left, leaving her alone with her mother.

“Lea, hon, you’re late…” Her maman couldn’t quite keep her irritation out of her voice, but her eyes held a hint of compassion.

Leonna grimaced. “I’m sorry, Maman.” She didn’t know what else to say. Maman was right.

“You need to be here on time. I can’t get all the prep work done on my own and your father—” She waved her hand in the air.

“I know, Maman. Papa is busy at the hives. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Her mother’s glare bore into her soul. She didn’t speak, but dropped her gaze and shook her head.

Leonna’s face heated.
I’ve got to do better. They need me.

A female with two newbs approached the cart. The mother glanced at the different bottles, while the two young females darted around her waist. Their infectious giggles rose into the air.

“Would you like a taste?” Leonna held out three small sticks to the frazzled mother who had dark circles under her eyes.

“Yes, thank you. Here, Dottie, Denia.” The female handed each child one of the testing sticks. They each dipped the end into a sample jar and put the honey in their mouths. 

“Ummm…yum. Can we get some?” The taller of the two young females gripped her mother’s arm as she jumped up and down.

“Yeah, please, please.” The other girl joined in on the antics.

“How could I resist? Two clover honeys, please.”

“Do you need the dipper?” Leonna picked up the small stick with the slatted, round ball on the end. She held the utensil out to the female Stiyaha.

 The female jostled the knapsack draped over her shoulder. The weight from the bag pulled on her collarbone, leaving a red mark where the material rubbed against her skin. “No, thank you. I still have one.” 

Leonna handed the young mother the jars filled with yesterday’s honey harvest. The female’s dry hands brushed Leonna’s fingers as she accepted her purchase. “Has the honey helped? You mentioned last time you wanted to try it on your scalp.”  

The customer glanced at Leonna’s mother before focusing back on Leonna. She blinked then seemed to regain her composure. “Why, yes. The honey has helped with the dandruff, but I still suffer from the itchy skin. Any suggestions?” 

“Add a bit of warm water with honey. You should be fine.” Leonna raised her hand, palm forward, in the Lemurian symbol of greeting or well-being. “Stop by again, soon.”

The patron nodded and turned to leave, her children already running off to the next vendor.

“That will be three stones, please.” Maman’s voice was pleasant, but controlled.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot!” The customer rummaged in her pack, reaching deep into the bottom.

Leonna caught maman’s glance. The elder female pressed her lips together and shook her head.

How could she forget to retrieve the payment? Leonna’s face heated. Her heart just wasn’t into running the cart. 

“Here you go.” The customer handed maman three rough sunstones. 

“Thank you. Enjoy the honey.” Maman smiled and bowed her head in respect. 

The transaction completed, the female followed her children. Leonna envied her ability to escape.

“Ugh. Lea, when will you learn?” Her mother’s scolding voice was one Leonna had heard often.