Moon Borne (Halcyon Romance Series Book 1) (13 page)

“Why me?”

His eyes flew open and he lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a damn good question, but you already know the answer. ‘Tis I who am in the dark.”

My gift.

“I know the ways of the gods.” He leaned in and fingered a lock of her hair. His words grew heated, his voice husky. “What has Artemis given you that’s worth your chastity?”

She swatted his hand away. “That’s none of your concern.” Then she smirked at him. “I’m sworn to secrecy, as well.” Not quite true, but she’d be damned if she revealed her powers.

He narrowed his eyes. “Fine.” He retreated to the weapons cabinet and disarmed. “Is that why you’ve stayed? Because you seek the one who ordered your capture?”

“Yes.”

He grunted. “I can’t let you leave.” Glancing at her sideways, his eyes flashed silver. “I need you. Will you help me find my sister?”

She melted at the exposed anguish in his voice. How could she refuse?

“I vow I will not let them hurt you.” His gaze dropped to her chest, and she instinctively crossed her arms, in case he was able to peer through the thin cotton. “If you cooperate, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean? An exchange?” Her pulse raced. Was he offering her revenge against his buyer?

He stalked toward her, smug satisfaction curving his lips. “Aye, a trade. You assist me, and I’ll give you what no other male ever could.” Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, he leaned in. His lips swept across her neck, his meaning all too clear.

Arrogant, cocksure bastard.

Had she actually called him a gentleman?

She raised her hand and, holding nothing back, slapped him.

He jerked backward. “I can scent your arousal,
Amazone
.” He blinked at her; she huffed at his dense masculinity.

“I do not desire
you
, slaver. If I had wanted a male, I assure you, I would have had one long ago.” She wrinkled her nose.

The smug smile returned to his lips. “Nay, I do not think so. No other male has tempted you as I.”

Her mouth fell open while her cheeks burned hot at his condescending declaration. He smirked as if he would be doing her a favor. As though she was the one unable to control this passion. The temptation to hurl something at his patronizing grin was too much to bear.

Kyme narrowed her eyes. No, that would secure his point. She must prove to him the truth.

That it was he who found her irresistible.

Only one way to show him.

She marched across the room, grabbed his shirt, and yanked his head down, searing her lips against his. The males her sisters mated with begged on their knees for more. Arsenius would suffer the burn of the flames he toyed with. She’d leave him weak and begging
her
.

As she thrust her tongue into his mouth, the heat of him scorched her, but she ignored it, focused on searing him instead.

She slid her hand down his chest, across his stomach, and over the swell of his rigid length, stroking him through his breeches. Fighting the corresponding pulse between her thighs, she shoved off him and smirked. His eyes darkened with lust. Judging from how hard he was for her, she’d bet no blood remained in his brain.

“Now which one of us is tempted?” She sent him a dismissive glimpse, making sure he caught the way she shrugged at his erection, and sank back onto the chair. Plucking up the brush, she resumed untangling her locks. “I’m an Amazon, sworn to protect all females. I will find your sister. You had but to ask. Nicely.”

***

His blood thundered in his ears. Arsenius had been far too gentle with the Amazon this afternoon. Thereus was bloody right. Kyme’s buried passion burned hotter than Hades.

The way she’d fondled him, no timid female there.

This argument was far from over. He wrapped his arm around her waist; she gasped and struggled against his hold. She slammed her foot on top of his and rammed her elbow into his nose. Had he not turned his head at the last second, she would have broken it.

He hopped back to avoid her knee in his groin, but his foot slipped on an errant bucket.
Damn powder monkeys.
As he went down, he swept his foot out and knocked her off balance. She stumbled, but he caught her and crushed her on top of him. He rolled them over and pinned her beneath his weight. His cock throbbed so painfully he barely registered why he couldn’t plunge himself deep inside her. She hissed at him like a little cat, her claws searching for any surface to scratch. He restrained her wrists and his mouth claimed hers, kissing her into submission.

Arsenius lifted his head and smiled at the defiance shining in those midnight blue depths. He was far stronger than she, but she was capable of hurting him. She arched her spine and threw her weight into a roll, slamming his back into the floor.

He let her.

She straddled him, but he still clutched her wrists. He tugged her down and stole another kiss. Her teeth snagged his lower lip, drawing blood. A metallic tang glossed across his tongue.

He released her wrists to wipe at his mouth, grinning despite the pain. She leapt off him, but he wasn’t finished. Neither was she. She might struggle, but he could scent her arousal from miles away.

It was time to determine who was master and who was slave.

Arsenius rose to his feet and caught Kyme by the wrist. He scooped her up and set her on the desk.

She squirmed and hissed. He cut her off, gripped the back of her head with his hand, and claimed her lips.

As his hand cupped her breast, the air retreated from her body in a moan. She stopped fighting him while he teased her nipple with his thumb. Her breath came in long, shuddering gasps. He trailed his lips down her neck, leisurely unbuttoning her shirt and kissing each inch of newly exposed skin.

His whole body trembled in anticipation. This first touch was his.

Mine,
the beast inside him roared. He closed his eyes, not bothering to correct that declaration. Slipping his hand inside her shirt, he palmed the delicate weight of her breast. A delightful handful that shot painful jolts through his groin. He lowered his mouth onto her other breast, suckling her through the linen. He gave a gentle tug and glided his tongue along the tight tip in slow, deliberate circles. She moaned and went utterly limp in his arms. He balanced her weight easily with one arm and used his other hand to finish undoing the buttons.

He pulled back before peeling aside her shirt, for he was unwrapping this gift of the gods. His hands shook with desperation as he slid the garment from her shoulders. Her creamy skin and lush feminine curves dried his mouth, and he swallowed hard. Her pebbled, rosy nipples perked, awakened by his touch. Hell, he could release in his breeches just from gazing at her. Coupled with the way she offered herself to him and…

Damn, he was lost. Coherent reasoning drained from his body as his fingers brushed her flat belly. He stopped short of her smooth sex, making a detour around her hip and down her thigh. His mouth teased her other breast like he had the first. No, devoured. As though he’d been wandering in the desert for centuries and Kyme was his oasis.

He growled against her skin, his tongue lapping up her exotic taste. His fingers roamed, once more circling where they ached to pleasure. Kyme arched and whimpered. In invitation.

As his finger slid into her folds, he nearly spilled his seed at how wet she was. He groaned into her breast. His thumb circled upward until he glided across her bud, swollen for him.

Without warning, she cried out his name, her body shuddering in his arms. He clutched her, his hands easing the last pleasures from her body.

“Damn, Kyme, you’ve got to make me work harder than that.” If he wasn’t so tense with lust, he might have laughed. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled her neck and savored her whimpers. She clung to him as though he would guide and protect her through this new storm of sensations.

He eased his lips lower, desperate for a taste of her, and kissed a path down her stomach. At her middle, he lifted his lashes. A smear of scarlet slashed across her abdomen, blood from his lip when she’d nipped it earlier.

No. No!
A thunderbolt stabbed his body. His right side flared, the markings penetrating his skin. Nay, not blood. Damn, especially not his own blood. He drew his lip into his mouth to seal the wound and slammed his eyes shut. Bloody hell, it was too late. His gut dropped as though he’d swallowed a twenty-pound stone. A tremor jolted through him, wrenching his eyes open.

Crimson clouded his vision.

He sank to his knees and roared.

***

Kyme blinked away the white-hot blast of ecstasy fuzzing her mind. “Arsenius?” As she grasped for him, he tilted his head up. His eyes. Gods, his eyes. She recoiled, drawing the shirt around her. It was not a man staring back at her.

He dropped his head and shook it hard. She reached for him again, but he snarled, “Get away from me.” He leapt to his feet, slammed open the door, and stormed from the cabin.

Her mind spinning and her pulse thundering in her ears, she padded to the open door. Arsenius fled toward the mainmast, his arms wrapped around his body as though trying to hold himself together. Charging like a bull, he closed in on the mainmast and rammed into it. He howled in pain and stumbled. Several burly sailors rushed to his side. He tossed two of them to the ground before one managed to lock a manacle around his wrist. More men shot forward to help, and they subdued Arsenius enough to close the other chain. The feral snarls escaping his mouth were like those made by some beast of Hades.

As she was about to tread outside for a closer inspection, Thereus stepped forward and blocked her view. “Get back inside, Kyme.”

She struggled to pass him but he wouldn’t budge. “Why?”

He shook his head and closed the door. The lock clicked. This was one secret the centaur wouldn’t spill.

Damn.

What was wrong with Arsenius? What had happened between that blissful moment and now?

Had she done something wrong? No, she didn’t think so.

Think, think, Kyme.
She pressed her ear against the door, but all was quiet.

He was Ares’s son. Had the god cursed him somehow? She nibbled on her lower lip. One thing was certain, those chains had to have been fashioned by Hephaestus, the god of the forge.

Only Hephaestus could fashion restraints capable of containing such a monster.

Chapter 12

Huffing, Kyme draped herself across the bed. Her body thrummed with awareness, her mind was hazy from the after-effects of Arsenius’s kisses.

What have I done?
She lifted her head from the mattress. What had possessed her to kiss the slaver? The only point she had proved was that when they touched, it was as if gunpowder ignited between them. Neither of them were able to escape the blast.

Time to assess the damage.

Her mouth grew dry and her hands trembled as the true ramifications of her actions lashed against her.

She was permitted no male. Cursing, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and straightened. “Please do not be angered, please do not be angered,” she whispered as she focused on her hands. In retribution for one moment of passion, would the goddess revoke her gift? She squeezed her eyes shut.

Gradual warmth spread from the tips of her fingers up her arms. She opened one eye. Her hands were bathed in an iridescent amber light, which flickered, thanks to her unsteady meditation. Kyme fell back on the bed and sighed. The goddess cared only about her virtue.

She had permission to indulge in intimacy with Arsenius.

A kiss, a touch, but nothing more.

***

“Wake up, Arsenius.”

Frigid water struck him like a slap in the face. Arsenius snarled and whipped his head from side to side. The owner of the cheerful voice had dumped a bucket of icy sea water on his head.

“Easy, easy there. It’s passed,” the centaur’s voice soothed. Thereus released both of the manacles around his wrists.

Arsenius staggered forward and groaned as he sank to his knees. He swiped the water from his face and slicked back his hair. Rubbing at his swollen wrists, he worked his hands around to his aching neck and stiff shoulders. Gods, he hated being chained. He grimaced at the irony. The curse which had freed him from his human masters forced him back into chains.

“Care to share what happened?” The centaur sank down beside him.

Arsenius shot him a scowl that proclaimed,
Not bloody likely.
He staggered to his feet, swatting at Thereus’s attempts to aid him.

His frenzy had consumed him countless times since his
morphos
, but never once had he been on the receiving end of its terror. Not until last night.

For two years, before he’d bargained for the chains, he’d been used to awakening in a field of carnage. When his frenzy struck, he was helpless to stop it. He didn’t deny sometimes it was useful. No creature was able to withstand his frenzy, the mindless bloodlust of violence.

More often than not, it was a curse.

Thereus believed that on the eve, five years ago, when Arsenius had saved him from a group of thugs, he’d done so on purpose. That he’d somehow been able to control the darkness inside. Thereus was a fool. The horrible truth was, had not the beast been sated, he would have torn the centaur to shreds.