Darkness Surrendered (Primal Heat Trilogy #3) (Order of the Blade) (13 page)

Ana stiffened and inhaled sharply, jerking him back to the present, to the truth that it was Ana he was wrapped around. His
sheva,
the woman who had tortured him, the woman who ignited his nightmares, the woman who brought him peace. He froze as the memories of everything that had brought them together came racing back to him, shredding the moment, the intimacy, the lie he’d woven around himself that it was okay to enjoy this moment.

Ana turned her head to look at him, and he saw awareness in those silver depths, an understanding of the hell between them, an acceptance of his rejection.

She thought he was ditching her? He swore. “It’s not like that—”

“No.” She touched her finger to his lips. “It’s okay, Elijah. It really is.”

“It’s not okay, and I’m not rejecting you.” Yeah, Ana had tortured him, but just the thought of her being upset pissed him off. He might have failed to protect her from Nate, but he damn well had his shit together enough to comprehend the depth of pain and anguish in her eyes. He could sense the weight she carried in her soul, and he didn’t want her to have to fight so hard anymore. He sure as hell wasn’t going to add to her burden by making her think he would reject his
sheva
.

He almost laughed at himself when he realized what he was thinking, laughter in an “I’m so fucked” way, of course. The
sheva
bond was making him soft. Here was the woman who’d delivered the final blows to his sanity, a female with the ability to send him back there any second with minimal effort, a woman who represented his worst nightmare. On top of all that, she was his
sheva
, destined to make his mind snap and turn him rogue so he could destroy everything that mattered to either of them.

Like he wasn’t doing a good enough job heading down that road all by himself.

So, yeah, he was a big, badass Calydon with an instinct for survival, so he should be engaging in a cut and run with her. He knew that was the right call, but there was no chance he was going anywhere. He liked where he was. Period.

Ana frowned at him, her brow furrowing. With that expression, she looked so damnably human and vulnerable. It ignited something inside Elijah that was a hell of a lot stronger than his survival instinct. Instead of shutting her out and going solo like he should do, it made him want to pin her down and make love to her until every stage of the bond had her so irrevocably tied to him that not even destiny herself could tear them apart.

Ana’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Oh, no, Elijah. We can’t do that. “

He shoved her onto her back and rolled on top of her, pinning her luscious body beneath him. “Why not?” he growled, barely recognizing his own voice. God, it felt amazing to feel her under him. Her heart was pounding against his chest, her breasts crushed against his ribs.

“You know why!” She pushed at his chest, panic flickering in her eyes. “There are so many reasons! I won’t bring you down. I won’t! So get off!”

His erection was rock hard, almost painful, and he felt like his body was on fire.
For her
. For the way her skin was flush against his, the swell of her breasts against him. He groaned softly and knew exactly what it was time to do.

He kissed her.

The moment his mouth took hers, he thought his heart would stop forever. Her kiss was like the gift of the angels, warm and wet and hot. Her lips were soft and full, and she kissed him back without reservation, without guile, with the pure and simple honesty of a woman whose soul felt the same connection he did. The kiss was like poetry, the gift of tender softness, of a sensuality that didn’t involve pain or demons or anguish. Just the elemental connection between them.

Elijah deepened the kiss, basking in the heat of her response. Her hands went around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him down. Her hips moved beneath him in a sensual invitation that called to his very soul. He had vague memories of kissing her before, in the basement, but those kisses were tainted with the murkiness of his mind, with the torment that had been chasing him.

This kiss, this moment, was pure clarity, and it was incredible. Elijah slipped his hand over her ribs and slid it along her stomach until he cupped her breast. Ana moaned, arching against him as he flicked her nipple, and his whole body began to burn for her, for her body, for her mind, for her soul.

Elijah gripped her hair, kissing her harder, deeper, as if he could somehow connect them deeply enough that their souls would become entangled and never be able to split. He felt that if he could just anchor himself to her, she could save him, not just his mind, but the very depths of his blackened soul. Redemption. Peace. Sanity.

Elijah.
Her voice was a husky, sensual whisper in his mind that went straight to his loins, and he became more aggressive, needing more, wanting more, craving everything she was and everything she represented to him.

With a growl, he shoved her thighs apart with his knee and sank down on top of her. The feel of her body enveloping his was a shock to his touch-deprived system, and for a split second, he shuddered, half expecting the bliss to turn against him, for a demon to leap up—

“Elijah!” Ana’s voice was sharp, jerking him back to the present.

He swore in frustration and collapsed on top of her, trying to catch his breath. Seriously? He’d really gone off when he’d been in the middle of seducing his
sheva
? He needed to man up and get some discipline now. Yeah, sure, she was an Illusionist and could bring back memories, but he should be strong enough not to be brought down by his own woman. He was not some pansy-assed victim who was going to be haunted by a couple of bad nightmares. It ended now, and he was taking control.

“Ezekiel,” Ana whispered, her voice throaty and desperate. “We have to stop him.”

Ezekiel.
Hell
. Apparently, Ana had not lost the ability to think rationally just because her soul mate was kissing her. Clearly, he needed to work on his seduction skills.

But for what it was worth, his woman was right. Elijah gritted his teeth and forced himself to ease off her, her skin sliding against his like the most decadent of temptations as he moved his knee out from between her legs. “Jesus.”

Ana made a small sound of sexual frustration as she tugged her shirt back down. He watched her golden skin disappear underneath the green cotton, and he had an almost overwhelming urge to grab that damn shirt and rip it off her—

“Stop.”

He dragged his gaze to her face, and his gut jumped at the desire burning in her eyes.

“You’re really not helping things,” she said, scowling at him. “Stop fantasizing, stop looking like you want to lick every inch of my body and for heaven’s sake, move your hand.”

He realized that his hand had somehow worked its way between her thighs, and he reluctantly pulled it free, an act that required a lot more willpower than he would have anticipated. As he did so, she set her hand on his shoulder so they didn’t lose contact, reminding Elijah that this wasn’t some post-lovemaking aftermath. It was real life, and he couldn’t stay sane unless she was touching him.

Yeah, what was he just saying about taking control back? Being able to stand solo would be a good first step.

Ana met his gaze, and he realized she knew how much it bothered him. There was sympathy in her expression, and for a split second, he was tempted to spill it all out there for her. Tell her the truth he’d kept locked down for so long—

Her eyebrows went up. “What is it?”

Elijah swore, knowing he couldn’t risk it. He had to handle it alone. “Nothing.” He saw a stack of clothes on the table by the bed. His clothes. For a second, he was confused by the appearance of his own jeans and the black tee shirt. His own belongings. It felt weird to see them after being strung along by the puppet master and living life on the run like some junkie for so long. “We had visitors?”

“Quinn dropped off some clothes for you.” She cocked her head, understanding twinkling in those silver eyes. “I think it was an excuse to check and make sure you hadn’t killed me yet.”

“Probably. He gets overprotective.” Elijah flexed his muscles tentatively, and then grinned when he felt no pain. He moved his bum leg experimentally, and it moved easily at his command. The healing sleep worked the same magic as it always did. He grunted with relief, realizing that a part of him had feared that he wouldn’t have been able to pull it off with his brain so screwed up. He’d lost the ability to heal once. Not this time though. See? He was on his way back. It was all good.

Ana spread her palm on his stomach, and he froze, awareness leaping through him at the sensual feel of her skin on his. “That’s amazing. In less than six hours, you’re practically healed. Just a little pink mark.”

“Another two and you wouldn’t even see the scar, but I didn’t have time for that. This was enough.” Elijah couldn’t keep his stomach from tightening as she rubbed one of his scars. Shit, her touch was gentle. Like she was afraid to break him. He couldn’t remember ever touching anything that softly. Probably wasn’t even capable of it. But damn, it felt unbelievable to be caressed like that.

Ana dropped her hand and met his gaze, and he saw her eyes settle with determination. “So, you’re ready?”

Elijah had to regroup for a second before he could think of what she was talking about. His entire being was still focused on where he’d been imagining her hand would go after she got done massaging his stomach.

“Elijah?” An amused smile played at the corner of her mouth, as if she knew what he was thinking, which she probably did.

Okay, yeah. He was focused. “I’m all set.” He sat up, and swung his legs off the bed, viscerally aware that he was still naked, and she was barely dressed. Now that he wasn’t wrecked and having a make out session with Death, Elijah was all Calydon male in his response to her nearness. Just her hand on his shoulder was making him want to throw her down and...

Elijah pulled her hand off his shoulder and held it so he could look at the silver marks on her arm. His marks. There were more now, and they were brighter and stronger. With each stage they completed, more of his brand would appear on her arm. When the brand was complete, an exact match for the one on his arm, the bond would be finalized and destiny would take them down.

Two of the five stages were almost finished. The blood bond and his half of the death ritual, when he’d given his life to save hers.

Only three and a half stages to go. To satisfy her half of the death stage, Ana had to offer her own life for his or kill to save his life. Then there was trust, in which they each shared their deepest secret or gave the other the power to kill them. Another stage was transference, when Ana developed the ability to call Elijah’s weapon from his arm just as he could do. And sex. The stages could occur in any order, but Elijah knew which one he wanted to do next. Repeatedly. With a hell of a lot of nakedness, sweat and screams of ecstasy…The screams would be Ana’s, of course. He would bellow with manliness. She would scream with ecstasy. Teamwork at its best.

“This is new.” Ana touched one of the points of the throwing star on her arm, drawing his attention back to the brand, and the reality of their situation. Yeah, no matter how much his instincts were jonesin’ for some hot and heavy action with his woman, it was the wrong choice, and he had to trump the instincts trying to rule him.

So yeah, easy, right?

“I got so used to the partial star, it’s weird to look down and see more.” Ana looked at Elijah, her face intense. “Having your brand on my arm was a gift when Nate was hurting me,” she said. “It made me feel like you were with me, sharing your strength with me.”

Something turned in Elijah’s chest at the honesty etched in Ana’s face. He wanted to deserve that look, that warmth. It was the most incredible sensation to have her looking at him like he was worth something, but he knew he wasn’t. Not right now. But as God was his witness, maybe now was his time to change it by taking down Ezekiel. Yeah, he could salvage his honor as a warrior, but as a mate? No chance. As a man, as a male, Elijah would never be worthy of the expression on Ana’s face, and it had begun long before he’d failed to keep her safe from Nate.