Bonds of Fire: The Bellum Sisters 2 (paranormal erotic romance) (24 page)

“Tell me about your past, before the rift closed.”

Draven’s heart skipped a panicked beat. He kept himself perfectly still so she wouldn’t know how shocked he was.

“I’d rather not,” he finally said. She lost her smile but hope was still in her eyes.

“Oh, please. I only know so much. I would offer to share mine as well but it’s more boring than watching a snail walk.”

Draven laughed, the action surprising him just as much as it did for Lucinda judging from her expression.

“I’m sure there isn’t anything interesting to tell.” Pain, humiliation, a world filled with so much prejudice and discrimination that he’d chosen to forego his family for a life in the Atal Warriors, fighting against those just like him, and others much worse.

“Well you’re only half-vampire. You can start with that.” The refusal was already on his tongue, but then he looked into her soft, beseeching eyes and was helpless.

Draven’s mind struggled to think where to start. How it all began, how to describe what she wanted in a way that wouldn’t send her running out of the room, or worse, crying. But then she scooted across the floor until she was in front of him. He tensed, unsure where this was going. Her look was sly, and so Goddamn sexy his cock throbbed as she put a hand on each of his knees and pushed them open.

He could have fought it easily; she was no match for his strength. But he was a glutton for punishment and let her spread his thighs wide open. Images that would make her blush rushed through his mind. If only she knew what she did to him, what she’d always done to him, since the first moment she entered Tyrian’s castle. That’s why he’d always kept away, she belonged to someone else. Now she was all his. Then why couldn’t he jump at her like he wanted? Why was he being such a damned coward?

His chest tightened as if a heavy weight sat upon it. His mind flashed with options. Would she peel down the shoulders of that dress and bare her full breasts to him? Or maybe she’d reach and pull out his cock. She kissed so innocently, though her skill had grown quickly the other night. He knew her mouth was untrained too. God, how painful that would be. She’d torture his cock with little soft kisses and licks, never swallowing him whole like he wanted. It would still be good, hell, maybe even better, but it’d kill him nonetheless.

She had his knees open, her hands gently pressing against his knees. “Well are you going to tell me?”

He cocked a brow at her as he looked from her hands to her face. Just what was she up to?

“I was born before the rift was ever closed. When those like me crossed into this realm freely.” She nodded, her head cocked to the side as she listened. The muscles in his thighs bunched hard as her thumbs started to slowly rub back and forth. It took some concentration but he slowly relaxed his muscles. She wasn’t doing anything.

“The
idummi
and
jaheera
demons like the one after Chloe and Willow were a different thing entirely. There are layers in the rift that can only be passed in specific ways. We never crossed into theirs and for the most part they never bothered us.”

“What do you mean for the most part?” Draven closed his eyes; his head felt heavy like it wanted to fall back and simply enjoy her soft touch.

“Sometimes the
idummi
would come through our layer, kill people, stuff like that. Sometimes it would cause wars, other times we’d bury the dead and deal with it.”

“And what sort of demon are you?”

Draven shook his head to clear it. It had to be his imagination that made her sound husky when she asked that.

“We call ourselves shahoulin. It means justice bringers. It couldn’t be more of a lie.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but her eyes widened in question.

“Oh?” Her thumbs continued their soft, lazy torture on his legs. She had no idea how much of a tease it was.

“The
shahoulin
are mostly bigots. Divided into two castes, the royalty and the non-royalty.” He stopped himself from saying more, unsure how much to tell her.

“Which are you?” Her hands moved up his legs, barely a few inches but he tensed anyways.

“Non.” He couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice.

“Oh?” she said sweetly. “So how did you turn out half-vampire in a world of
shahoulin
demons?” Her thumbs started moving again, this time dipping deeper between his inner thighs.

“Before the rift,” he stopped and cleared the hoarseness from his voice, “my mother was living on the earthen-realm in Italy. She was in love with a human male. I think she might have married him even, I don’t remember. Her family scorned her for it. Marrying a human to them was worse than if she’d chosen a disgusting
idummi
.

“She was attacked by a vampire. Supposedly it was over a bad business deal between her human lover and the vampire. The vampire was old and liked to deal with matters in the old way.”

Lucinda stilled her hands. “He raped her?”

A nod. “Or so the story goes. My mother never would speak of it to me. To this day, I’m still not sure. Maybe he was actually just another lover and she played up the other story for fun. Mother always did have a rebellious streak in her. She loved defying her parents and the community. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was fucking every man she came into contact with.”

She started rubbing his thighs again, this time with her whole hand. Instead of making him tense this time, her touch soothed him. He relaxed in his chair, his legs falling open even more.

She didn’t have to ask because he found the words coming to him. “When the war began, everyone was shocked. They wanted to seal us under the rift, never allow us above. It was unheard of. No one knew what to do, but they knew they’d fight to keep that right. They lost.”

“You fought with the Atal Warriors?” she inquired softly.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I did. If I had a choice between living down there as a half-breed and living up here working for the group who closed us off. Well, you’ve seen my decision.”

“It was that bad for you?”

“Being raised as a half-breed? I was more than filth. I was as bad as the
idummi
. Mother used to parade me around as if she was proud of the monster she’d made; I knew she was just doing it to get a rise out of people.”

“I’m sure she loved you.”

He laughed, the sound bitter and angry. “Yeah, don’t think so. The only time she showed any sign that she cared for me was when she was trying to show me off. She bragged about the human and vampire lovers she’d taken as if it were some great feat. My people loathed the thought of breeding with outsiders. What she did was unforgiveable in their eyes.”

Draven could still picture his mother. It didn’t take much thought. Negative memories were always the easiest to remember. She had light blond hair, which he’d taken after and dark blue eyes framed by black lashes. The men couldn’t stay away from her. It didn’t help that she encouraged the attention. She always wore gold, always. Dresses that left nothing to the imagination. Cynically Draven realized that if not for her blatant flaunting she might have had them kicked out of the rift before the war. Even the royal council members were enthralled with her. Her promiscuity probably saved them.

“Whatever happened to her?”

Now this was something he didn’t like to think about. Draven looked down at the witch kneeling between his thighs. Her question was innocent, like everything was about her. She had no idea that he hadn’t spoken about his mother since the day he came into Tyrian en Kulev’s guard for the Atal Warriors.

Finally he just shook his head. A gentle smile curled her lips and she scooted forward. Draven’s reaction was as natural as breathing; he pushed himself as deep into the chair as possible. Her hands scoured up this thigh then stopped in the middle. She rubbed him in deep, massaging touches that had his cock stiffly swelling.

“What are you doing?”

She only smiled at his angry tone and leaned down to press a kiss to his thigh.

“I think we need to stop.”

Her eyebrows flew up as if surprised, then she chuckled softly, the sound husky. That was another thing he’d never seen her do. Now he’d seen her angry and seductive. There was more to her than he’d ever thought before. It made sense, she was a person after all, but it still surprised him. This beautiful seductress between his legs was so at odds with quiet, formal Lucinda he’d known. Or thought he knew.

“I’m sorry about your past. It’s never easy living through hard times, but I am sure your past has only led you to being the great warrior you are now.”

“I betrayed my people!”

She jerked back as if struck.

“But you are the man you are today because of that decision. I am proud of you that you left that place. You were not respected and that much you greatly deserve, Draven.”

Draven had had enough of her saccharine words. He shoved the chair back and walked away from her. Anger was good. Anger he could deal with. Not soft touches and sweet conversations.

“Oh please, Lucinda. You can sugar coat the words and twist them around until they’re nice and pretty but it doesn’t change what actually happened. What I actually did. You want to know about my mother?” He whirled on her, his anger seething around his hard words.

“I have no idea what happened to her. She might have died in the war. She might have been executed by my own people for some heinous act she was caught in. Maybe even for my betrayal. Or she might have been killed by an
idummi
attack. I don’t know.”

Draven glared at her with every ounce of bitterness inside him. Yet she didn’t look away, she didn’t cry. She did something that completely baffled him and stunned him so badly that he was speechless.

Lucinda stood slowly and stepped up to him. She placed her hand over his heart and said, “I am sorry, Draven. If I could change the past for you, I would. But I wouldn’t want that.”

Draven struggled to pull his gaze away from hers but she had a spell wrapped around him. He was frozen in place, unable to move unless she ordered him to.

“I wouldn’t want that because then I might never have met you.” Finally she did look away, she looked down at her feet and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I’m not supposed to say such selfish things, but I know I can with you. I shouldn’t press you for anything and yet I keep doing it no matter how much I tell myself not to.”

Finally she looked back up at him, and Draven felt like he was punched in the gut with that look. “What I did the other night was wrong on so many levels. I yelled at you. I talked back to my
host
in the most despicable of ways and yet you didn’t get angry with me. You didn’t punish me as others would have.”

Draven stood there stunned. Who would punish her for such a thing? His hand curled into a fist, the other reached for the invisible dagger at his belt.

He’d make a list and kill them twice.

“Who?” he said coldly. She looked at him, startled.

“Who what?”

“Who hurt you?”

Her eyes widened. “No, no one has. I meant that if I was in the care of others, if you hadn’t asked me to be your
frimar
then...then I might not be in exciting place that I am now. You have changed my life in so many ways.”

Draven threw up his hands. “I can’t do this. I can’t hear this. You’re wrong. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even want to be your
host
. I never should have...” He shook his head and walked away from her to grab his black coat off the dresser. He checked to make sure all his weapons were in place, then headed for the door.

“Please, Draven wait!” Lucinda reached him at the door, her face tight with anxiety.

“I’m sorry. I said too much, too soon. That’s what I was trying to explain to you. I can be myself with you and you don’t judge me.” When he didn’t run out the door she rushed on, “I am happy with you, Draven. Something I’ve never been before. I simply existed before at that castle. Now, with you, I feel as though I’m finally living.”

Draven’s gut was going to be sore with all the shit he’d been feeling tonight. He didn’t know what to say to that; a part of him was too afraid of what he might say if he did. So he reached for the door and opened it.

Lucinda’s arm reached out and slapped against the door, keeping him from opening it. His mouth might have fallen open in shock, but the aggressive action did something else entirely to him—it dropped his fangs and made his skintight. She was fighting for him.

“What are you doing?”

Her voice quavered as she said, “You’re not leaving me this night.” Her strong, beautiful eyes wavered as she looked at him, not as if she were about to cry but as if this single action took all her strength. Draven thought she might be shaking if not for the tight rigidity in which she held herself.

 It felt as if minutes passed as they watched each other. Draven’s mind ran through the possibilities and probabilities a dozen times before he finally, slowly, shook his head and pulled open the door. Her arm fell away like the door burned to touch.

Her mouth fell open, eyes pulled in confusion and pain. Draven looked away from her knowing that his decision hurt her, even though it tore his heart inside with a sharp knife. He didn’t close the door behind him, just kept walking away from her.