Serpent's Kiss: A Dragonfire Novel (17 page)

She wouldn’t even think of a world without the
Pyr
.

Never mind a world without Thorolf.

That woman who had died, she’d been no one in particular. She hadn’t been his mate. She hadn’t been his destiny. She might have been a pleasant girl, but it had been unthinkable that she should distract Thorolf from his training for the task ahead. His father had thought it expedient to draw the attention of marauding dragons to her village, and Chandra had played a role in that as well. She’d been convinced of Thorvald’s logic once and the merit of his choice. Now, she watched Thorolf, tasted his anguish, and wondered if his father had been wrong.

She’d never understood the power of love before.

She knew she still didn’t fully understand it, but she knew that she would destroy anyone who took Thorolf from her.

Never mind one who called him a distraction.

Even though, Chandra knew he was. She should have been hunting Viv Jason, that was her primary mission in this moment. If she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that it wasn’t even that old choice of him as champion that had her pursuing him through Myth.

She’d hurt his feelings. She’d destroyed his trust. She’d infuriated him. And against all odds, Chandra had wanted to make amends.

She hoped that Thorolf never learned the part she’d played in that girl’s death.

Maybe she could make everything up to Thorolf with this firestorm. He had such hopes for the firestorm’s promise. She never would have expected him to be idealistic or romantic, but he was, and that side of him made her want to see his dreams fulfilled.

With every step he took toward her, the firestorm heated her skin an increment more. She took a deep breath and savored the rare and wondrous desire that filled her, a sensation she’d never experienced before the firestorm’s spark had lit. Chandra straightened as Thorolf walked closer and tried to memorize this feeling. She understood with painful certainty that there was a whole realm of experience that she’d avoided, and for the first time, she wanted to sample it all. She knew in that instant that there was an easy way to tempt Thorolf, and it wasn’t with words. She made her decision with an impulsiveness that would have shocked her just days earlier.

Chandra dropped her quiver and unfastened her belt with shaking hands. She pulled her tunic over her head and tossed it onto a cedar branch, well aware that she knew nothing about seducing a man. She chose to remain in this form, the dark-haired and tattooed huntress. She liked it and thought Thorolf had, as well. She also liked that she’d first seen him in this guise.

No sooner had she stripped off her shirt than Thorolf stepped into the glade. She caught her breath as the cold beaded her nipples, as the firestorm touched her with its silvery heat.

Thorolf stopped and stared. His eyes brightened in a way that she found gratifying.

She paused in the act of unfastening her breeches and swallowed. “I thought you liked this form,” she said, hearing her own uncertainty.

“I thought you refused to fulfill the firestorm,” he said, and his words were hard. “Is this just a tease?”

“I don’t tease. I don’t know how. I thought the firestorm was a force that couldn’t be denied.” Chandra tugged off her boots, then wriggled out of her breeches, baring herself completely to his view. “Maybe I’m surrendering.”

“But maybe you’re not.” He was understandably wary. “Maybe it’s a game.”

Chandra shook her head. “No game.”

“Maybe you’re trying to kill me.”

She smiled despite herself. “Don’t tempt me.”

“You couldn’t.”

“Sure about that?”

An answering smile tugged the corner of his mouth as their gazes locked and held. Thorolf’s eyes blazed blue, then he surveyed her. His gaze fell to her bare breasts, her tight nipples, her bare thighs and his eyes glittered. The firestorm seemed to heat, warming Chandra so that a trickle of perspiration ran down her back.

She saw the snow melting away from them as he took another step closer. Once she had been insulted whenever a man was so bold as to look upon her, but she liked the admiration in Thorolf’s gaze. She’d chosen to show herself to him, and she was proud of how thoroughly he surveyed her. When he came closer again, almost stalking her, as if he expected her to disappear, she stayed put. Her heart began to race with trepidation of what would happen next, how it would feel, whether it would be enough to win him over.

It was only when Chandra heard the drip of water that she noticed how quickly winter was driven back by the heat of the firestorm. The cedar boughs and branches underfoot had been revealed and were steaming slightly. The fine mist that resulted only made the encounter more magical. The light of the firestorm was refracted, turning each drop of airborne water into a crystal. They could have been surrounded by glittering stars.

Thorolf paused right before her, so powerful and masculine that Chandra couldn’t take a breath. If she was going to be touched by a man, let it be one like him, a dragon shifter, an honorable man, a loyal man, a champion and a fighter. A man who knew what he wanted and reached for it.

A man well aware of the enticement of pleasure.

Who better to introduce her to it? She didn’t have to surrender everything. She could sample.

Chandra’s gaze dropped to his mouth and the memory of his kiss made the heat inside her redouble. She felt hot and cold at the same time, simmering with desire but shivery, too. She felt an unfamiliar dampness between her thighs, indicating that her body knew what to expect even more than she did.

She knew the theory. It was the experience that was a mystery to her. She’d never felt the omission until now.

It was a bit late to realize that she didn’t know the price of breaking her vow.

The amazing thing was that in this moment, faced with Thorolf and the awe in his gaze, Chandra didn’t care what toll the firestorm took from her.

That was what made the firestorm so dangerous. She had to keep her objective in mind, and be sure she didn’t offer too much.

Funny that it didn’t seem so easy anymore.

“In the vision, they said you were Vanir, a goddess,” Thorolf said, holding her gaze steadily. “Is it true?”

“Don’t you trust in dreams and visions?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t usually have them. I’m black-and-white, believe-in-what-I-can-hold-in-my-talons kind of guy.” His crooked smile showed his ease with his own nature and tempted her to be charmed in her turn. That dimple invited her caress.

Chandra
was
charmed, her fingertips rising to his chin seemingly of their own volition. He had a little bit of stubble and she liked its rough masculinity. “Then you must not believe in me.”

He chuckled in a way that sent a shiver through her. “But I’ve held you in my talons.” He caught her around the waist and drew her close, his move making the firestorm burn so hot that Chandra thought she’d burst into flames. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, his height such that she was drawn up to her toes. She had to tip her head back to hold his gaze. “And you’re definitely real,” he murmured, and she could feel the rumble of his words against her own chest.

Thorolf’s hand rose to cup her bare breast, his expression both hungry and awed. His touch was gentle, a slow caress that left Chandra tingling. She found her back arching as he teased the nipple to an aching tight peak. His hands were large and strong, a bit rough. The dragon tattooed on the back of his left hand seemed darker and more alive.

As if she would ever forget what he was.

Thorolf smiled down into her eyes, then bent to take her nipple in his mouth.

Chandra gasped at the sweet heat of his mouth on her breast. White fire seemed to emanate from that point and race through her body, filling her with a yearning that she knew only Thorolf could satisfy.

“Go on,” he murmured against her skin. “Tell me what you can do.”

Chandra stared at him, so overwhelmed with pleasure that she didn’t even understand the question. Her hands were on his shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscled strength.

“You’re Vanir. You have powers,” Thorolf reminded her. His teeth grazed her taut nipple and she moaned as she had never moaned before. She felt the breath of his laughter before his mouth closed over her again.

When he lifted his head this time, her nipple was tight and hard. His eyes were darkest blue, his gaze intent. She was wet and filled with a need beyond her experience. He surveyed her with satisfaction, then ran his hand over her other breast. His touch made her shiver.

“Maybe an easier question,” he teased. “Which one of them are you?”

“Freya,” she managed to admit before he worked his magic on her other breast. Who could have believed that such pleasure could come from one small erogenous zone? Who could have believed she’d spill the truth so readily? Thorolf closed the warmth of his hand over her other breast, working that nipple with his finger and tongue at the same time. Chandra wasn’t sure her knees could continue to support her.

But she didn’t want him to stop.

And it wasn’t just because she hadn’t won his cooperation yet.

“Depending who you ask, of course.” Her words fell quickly, as they seldom did. “Gerd, Godiva, Selena, Demeter, Diana, Isis; all facets of the same divine truth.”

“Which do you prefer?”

“Chandra,” she admitted. “For the moon.”

Thorolf nodded, smiled and glanced over her. “And this guise?”

“Freya.” She felt her cheeks heat. “I like Scandinavia.”

His eyes gleamed. “Since when?”

“About nine hundred and fifty years ago,” she admitted, referring to the date she’d chosen him as her champion.

He was pleased, but ducked his head to hide it. She gasped when he kissed her nipple again. “The huntress,” he murmured against her skin. “Fertility, death, magic, beauty and war.” He flicked her a glance and his eyes were a vivid blue. “You should know that seriously works for me.”

Chandra found her mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out. Had anyone ever looked at her with such admiration and desire? Respect, yes, she was used to that and maybe fear, but not this kind of sensual awe. He pushed his fingers into her hair, doing that thing of making her feel fragile and treasured as he drew her against his chest, and kissed her deeply.

“What exactly can you do?” he whispered into her ear, his breath making her shiver.

“Shift shape,” she admitted, noting that she sounded uncharacteristically breathless.

“Seen that. Talk to the dead?”

“Gather them,” Chandra admitted with a nod, letting her head fall back as he nuzzled her throat.

“Leader of the Valkyries,” he mused, clearly remembering. “Mistress of Cats.” Chandra breathed agreement to both. Thorolf returned to her breasts again, cupping them with his hands as he kissed first one and then the other.

“Summon visions,” she whispered. “Cast spells.”

“Move between Myth and the mortal realm,” Thorolf suggested, but she shook her head.

“That’s what Snow does.” Her breath caught as his teeth grazed one tight peak. “Snow takes me between realms.”

She lost the thread of the conversation as Thorolf’s touch became proprietary and more demanding. His thigh eased between her own and his erection pressed against her hip. They were surrounded by the blazing white heat of the firestorm, a brilliance that filled Chandra with insatiable need. She couldn’t imagine how or why she’d avoided this pleasure for so many eons, and couldn’t think of a single reason to continue to do so. She forgot her plan to surrender just a kiss or two. She rolled her hips against Thorolf without even knowing what she did, welcoming him and inviting him with one caress.

She was on her back on the fallen cedar boughs in a moment, Thorolf on top of her. He held her captive beneath him, suspending his weight so she wasn’t crushed. That he thought she was fragile was both flattering and amusing. Chandra had never been treated like a delicate flower before. Thorolf’s elbows were braced beside her shoulders, her breasts crushed beneath his chest, his pelvis over hers and his thighs outside of her own. She was surrounded by him, protected by him, wrapped securely beneath him. It was a strange sensation, but even more strange was the pleasure she found in it.

Chandra realized how many centuries she’d fought alone. Once she’d been glad to be solitary and self-sufficient: now she saw how lonely she’d been. The firestorm’s brilliant silver light seemed to shine into every corner of her mind and illuminate every doubt she’d ever had, showing her that making love with Thorolf could make her complete in a way she’d never been before.

She couldn’t care about the cost when she glimpsed the reward.

Thorolf smiled down at her before he kissed her again with deliberate intent. His kiss was persuasive and tender, even as his mouth locked over hers and he coaxed her response. Chandra’s fingers eased into his hair, framing his head and drawing him closer as she opened her mouth to him. He was patient and persuasive, and she echoed his moves, wanting to give as much pleasure as she received. She must have succeeded because Thorolf groaned and deepened his kiss, the fire in his touch kindling her own. Their kiss became hungry and feverish, as if they would devour each other and be consumed with pleasure. There was nothing in Chandra’s world but the heat of the firestorm and Thorolf’s commanding caress.