Alpha Hunter (15 page)

“Maybe later.”
His voice sounded gruff and thick.

Her eyes flew open
and her breath hitched. “Don’t say that unless you mean it. Women hate being teased just as much as men.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can fight this.” He cupped both
her breasts, his thumbs rubbing her nipples. “But we need to accomplish as much as possible before we surrender.”

Pressing into the warmth of his palms, she
undulated her hips. Her sensitive sex rubbed against the unmistakable ridge of his erection. He groaned and arched, increasing the pressure and friction. When a simple back-and-forth rocking only frustrated her, she rotated her hips. The circular motion maximized the contact of her clit and his shaft, but it was still not enough. She wanted him inside her, stretching her inner muscles and sliding against her clit.

He caught
each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling and squeezing as her motion sped. How could she be this close to release already when she’d barely cooled down from before? Tension gathered between her thighs and her clit tingled. She reached back and braced herself against his thighs, allowing her hips to create a smoother circle over his straining cock.

She closed her eyes and imagined the hard thickness i
nside her rather than trapped behind a wall of denim. His fingers remained firm on her nipples and the motion of her hips created a delicious tug. She swayed, increasing the pull of her flesh against his fingers. Sensations zinged from her nipples to her clit and she dropped her head back, enjoying the sensual swishing of her hair.

“Come for me.”
The pressure of his fingers increased until her body obeyed. Pleasure spiraled along her inner walls, clinching and releasing in rhythmic pulses. She gasped and shuddered, amazed by the intensity of each spasm.

She was still reeling from the sensations when h
is presence blazed into her mind, searing yet focused. She cried out and shook, trapped between pleasure and pain. Heat spread through her mind, branching out like streams of molten lava. She could see it, smell it, as well as feel it wending its way through her consciousness. The image was detailed, the sensations distinct, yet she was powerless to control any of it.

Accept the
images. Tell me what they mean.

Focusing inward, she studied the visualization. Suddenly the image expanded and she stood on the riverbank. Thick grass tickled her bare feet and her gauzy dress billowed in the warm breeze.

“Very good.” Blayne appeared beside her, naked except for his jeans.

“The river is time.” She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she was certain of the fact. “That side flows into the past.” She pointed to her left. “And that side flows into the future.” She indicated the opposite direction.

“What else do you see or sense?”

The past appeared polluted and she could barely detect a current. “The past looks like toxic waste.”

He smiled. “And the future? What do you notice about that side?”

“It’s blocked; hardly any water is getting through.”

“Very good.” He turned toward her and brushed his fingers down the side of her face. “Release the image. That’s enough for now.”

The visualization faded and she was astride
his hips again. His hands rested on her hips, but her nipples were still tender. “Drakkin hasn’t released the temporal element of my gift yet, so why can I sense it so strongly?”

He scooted back, sitting up against the headboard. She tried to crawl off his lap, but his hands tightened on her hips. Their faces were much closer now, her eyes nearly on a level with his. “
Ordinary farseers connect with another person’s mind. It allows them to view events from someone else’s perspective. The gift is closely related to telepathy.”

“My gift isn’t ‘ordinary’?”

“Far from it. Temporal farseers are more closely related to prophets. Once you’re able to manipulate time strands, you will be able to view events that took place in the past and anticipate events that could take place in the future.”

“My gift is more accurate with past events?” She placed her hands on his shoulders and shifted more of her weight to his thighs.

“That’s not a limitation of your gift. It’s a fact of our reality. Past events can’t be changed. They’ve already happened. Besides you don’t actually go into the past. You’re only viewing a visual record of what took place. Future events, on the other hand, often change according to what takes place in the present.”

“So when I look into the future, I’ll only see one possible outcome of present events?”

“Exactly.”

She rubbed her eyes and swayed toward him, suddenly incredibly weak.

“You need to rest, maybe sleep for an hour or two.”

“But we’re just getting to the good stuff. I want to see what I can do.”

He wrapped his arms around her and twisted to the side, laying her back across the bed. “Rest. If we push too hard, you’ll end up sick and that won’t benefit anyone.” He scooted off the side of the bed, leaving her alone on the mattress.

She sat up and pulled down the covers then slipped beneath with a dreamy smile. “After my nap, can we pick up where we left off?”

He just returned her smile and said, “Go to sleep.” Then he turned off the light and walked into the outer room.

Too fatigued to argue, she fluffed one of the pillows and curled up on her side.
The past two days had felt like she stumbled into someone else’s life. Spending the night in a police station should have been shocking, but it paled in comparison to the events that followed. How was she supposed to make logical decisions when nothing around her was logical? She’d always been good at going with the flow. Her life was frequently less than stable. Still, alien worlds and temporal farseeing were a little much for her to process.

And then there was Blayne.
Gorgeous, unflappable Blayne. He stirred feelings in her she hadn’t imagined feeling, elemental longings that she’d heard described but had never experienced before. He was shrewdly intelligent and unbelievably powerful and yet he seemed to take it all in stride. He manipulated magic with casual assurance that both soothed and intimidated. He’d been born into a world where magic was common and he’d received years of formal training. Of course he was better at this than she was; things would be really screwed up if he weren’t.

She sighed and rolled to her stomach. Her body ached in places she didn’t want to think about. She was exhausted, but her brain continued to
spin, reliving everything that had happened without providing any helpful conclusions. She was out of her element, completely at the mercy of people she didn’t know.

You know Blayne
, her inner voice argued.
You’ve sensed his emotions and interacted with his true self.
It was hard to argue with that. Their empathic connection gave her a unique perspective.
And you know Aria. Stop being melodramatic.

The criticism made her smile as fatigue won out and she finally drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

A shrill scream snapped
Blayne out of his meditative trance. For one helpless moment he was disoriented, unsure if it had been hours or minutes since his trance began. A second cry, softer yet more hopeless than the first, catapulted him into action. He flew across the sitting room and rushed into Angie’s bedroom. She tossed upon the mattress, covers tangled around her legs.

Do you need assistance?
Drakkin asked.

No, sir.
It’s just a nightmare.

All right.
I’m here if you change your mind.

Blayne sat on the bed and lightly touched
Angie’s shoulder. She continued to toss, oblivious to his presence. “Angie. You need to wake up now.”

She
jerked away from his hand, a plaintive cry escaping from deep inside her.

Concern tightened
his chest so he crawled onto the bed and grasped her shoulders with both hands. “Angie.” His tone was sharper, more insistent. “Open your eyes, love. You’re safe.”

She arched away from him, lashing out blindly with one hand.

Unwilling to let her torment continue, he pushed into her mind. Terror blasted through his being, momentarily robbing him of breath. He forced himself to move, to find her and guide her out. His reality was shaped by her perception, bending and twisting like warped mirrors. He flowed deeper into her mind and used the transfer conduit to penetrate her mental shields.

He came to the river, shocked by the changes he found there. The future stream was dry as if all of her energy had been sucked back into the past. Terrified of the implication, he dove into the seething water, repulsed by the stench and oily feel, yet determined to find her.

The current strengthened, sweeping him along. Another cry, louder this time, assured him he was headed in the right direction. He raised his head and looked around, inwardly cringing at his surroundings. The images were torn and distorted, yet menace emanated from every shape, every shadow.

He spotted her on the riverbank and struggled free of the murky water. The stench of fear and degradation clung to his skin. She writhed in the grass, naked and
trembling. Her torso twisted and her back arched, yet her limbs remained unmoved. Was someone holding her down?

Sitting beside her, he tried to pull her into his lap. Her body wouldn’t budge. Her screams became guttural
moans that sent dread twisting through his being.

“Angie, this isn’t real. Let go of the memory.” He stroked her hair back from her face, keeping his touch light and gentle. “You’re safe now. No one will harm you as long as I’m here.”

She stilled, lying spread-eagled in the grass. Her skin was pale and clammy, her lips gradually turning blue.

Not knowing what else to do, he sent a pulse of energy into her mind. “You
’re dreaming, love. You need to wake up.”

Her lashes fluttered and she whimpered, tears escaping from beneath her lashes. “Don’t…” She turned away from him, pulling her knees up toward her chest. “Go away.”

“Wake up. If you still want me gone, I’ll leave.” It was a lie. He had no intention of leaving her side. But he could disperse his physical body and make her think he’d kept his word.

Her image wavered then disappeared. He quickly followed her out.

She was lying as she’d been in the visualization, curled up on her side with her back to him.

He carefully touched her shoulder than ran his hand down her arm. “Are you all right?”

“You have no right to spy on me. That wasn’t okay.”

“I only entered your mind when I couldn’t rouse you. How often do you have these nightmares?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Blayne sighed. Drakkin had warned him that he would need to push her if they ever hoped to heal her past. It wasn’t his nature to intentionally cause pain—unless the person deserved the discomfort. Angie
definitely didn’t deserve more pain.

Ignoring her struggles, he pulled her into his lap and cradled her against his chest. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him.
All right. They’d compromise. She could avoid his gaze, but she wasn’t going to avoid the cause of her fear.

“Burying the pain has caused the wound to fester. Do you understand what the river was showing you?”

“I’m not stupid,” she snapped. “My imagination isn’t subtle.”

Her gift had delivered the cautionary images
, not her imagination. However, the detail wasn’t important enough to correct. “Have you ever told anyone what happened?”

“No.”

The fact that she’d answered at all gave him hope. “Not even Tori?”

“No.”

They all suspected the abuse had been sexual. Such an attack explained many of her personality traits. There was no way to ease into something so horrible, so he just asked, “Were you raped?” Her entire body tensed and he had his answer. Fury surged through him, but tenderness drove it back. He couldn’t allow his reaction to her past to hinder her recovery. He had to stay calm and focus entirely on her. “Did you know your attacker?”

“I’m not going to talk about this.” She pushed away from his chest and tried to squirm off his lap.

He grasped her arms, but kept her upright, not wanting to mimic the helpless position he’d found her in beside the river. “You’ll never move beyond the pain until you acknowledge what happened.”

“The past can’t be changed.
” She glared into his eyes. “You said so yourself.”

He ignored the argument. “When did it happen?”

Emotion swelled inside her, spilling across their empathic link. Her chin quivered and tears gathered behind her thick lashes. “I went a little crazy after Mom died. One night I went looking for trouble and found it. There! Are you happy? I got what I deserved. No harm, no foul.” She wrested her arms out of his grasp and scrambled off the bed.

He wasn’t sure if he should follow her and his indecision gave her time to lock
herself in the bathroom.