Ghost Walk (33 page)

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Authors: Cassandra Gannon

BOOK: Ghost Walk
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Rhawn
blinks.  …And releases her wrists.  He knows her worries are groundless.  He
should keep going and show her that their mating is nothing to fear.  It’s the
logical solution.  Certainly, no other man in the Clan would be stupid enough
to let this woman escape.

So,
why is he easing back from her, making soft sounds to calm her?  Why is he
petting her hair and coaxing her to relax again?  Why is he stopping just
because she asks him to?  He really is an idiot.  Five seconds more and he can
have everything he wants.

…No,
not
everything
he wants.  He wants so much more than just surrender.

He
wants her to want him back.

Imaginary
or not, she is what Rhawn treasures most.  If he frightens her, she will never
smile at him again.  He won’t risk such a thing happening, no matter how hard
desperation is beating at him.  Her acceptance is what he values.  It doesn’t
matter that her fears are perplexing, they are real to her.  Therefore, he has
to soothe them.  It is his duty as her mate.

So,
Rhawn does what no man in the Clan has ever done with his female: He
relinquishes control.  He is still confused by her resistance to their mating,
but it doesn’t matter.  All that matters is regaining her trust.

“I’m
sorry.”  He soothes, adjusting the pelts around her so she feels more secure. 
“I went too fast.”  After dreaming of this girl for so many nights, Rhawn
doesn’t think it seems “fast” at all, but her opinion is all that matters. 
“Are you alright?”

She
swallows, gazing up at him.  “Yes, I’m fine.  Sorry.  I just got a little
scared.  I know it’s a dream and that cavemen probably have way different
social mores and all.  I know that you would never hurt me.  You were just
suddenly so… intense.”

He
stifles a wince.  “You do not ever need to fear me.  I will do nothing you do
not wish.  You have my word.”

The
wariness fades, as she realizes that he will not force compliance.  She begins
to look embarrassed.  “I don’t do this a lot.  I mean, except with
you
in these dreams
,
but most of them are less… real.  Kinda fuzzier and
more like bits and pieces.”

“Yes.” 
She’s right.  The dream this cycle seems very different somehow.

“So,
can we just start again and go a little slower?”

He
nods, dizzy with relief, because she doesn’t wish to stop all together.  He
tries to touch her as she likes --carefully and with patience-- but he’s still
too desperate for much finesse.  Despite his best intentions, Rhawn’s hands are
still rough with need.  Goddamn it, why does he have to be so big?

She
gives a breathless laugh that sounds like music, not concerned about his lack
of tenderness.  Her confidence is back.  Her faith in him restored.  It is a
miracle.  “In a hurry, huh, caveman?”

“Rhawn.” 
Telling her his name suddenly seems more urgent than even his raging need for
her.  He’s afraid of marking her skin, just from touching her.  She is so
delicate.  He is all but shuddering with his lust, but still he whispers: “I am
Rhawn.”  He’s always wanted her to know him.

“Hi,
Rhawn.”  She says gravely, as if she isn’t pinned under his naked body.

Again.

Damn
it, how has that happened
again? 
He promised her he would
go slowly.  No wonder she is terrified of him, if he cannot even do as she
asks.  Perhaps his failure is to be expected.  He tries live a life of worth,
but the gods send dreams to plague his mind and have marked his eyes with their
disfavor.  His fate is dark.  And now he cannot even be considerate of the mate
that he isn’t supposed to have.  He should stop this and let her go.

Ashamed,
he tries to look away.

She
moves her head to follow his, not letting him break eye-contact.  He doesn’t
like to meet her gaze and have her see his deformity, but she never seems
disgusted by it.  “Nice to finally meet you.”  She lifts her palm to rests it
against his cheek, in case he tries to drop his eyes, again.  “I’m Lucy.”

Rhawn’s
mouth curves at one corner, giving up any notion of letting her go.  It was a
hopeless thought.  He cannot find the strength.  Without her, he would be
completely alone.  “Nice to meet you, Lou-ceee.”  He echoes, softly.

She
grins and leans up to “kiss” him, again.

The
woman is perfect.

Rhawn
runs his hand down the curve of her hip, nudging her legs apart and pressing
closer.  It’s not enough.  He wants to slam inside of her and lose himself in
her heat.  Holding back is so damn hard, but his restraint is worth the
effort.  She doesn’t try to pull away from him.  Instead, she arches against his
body, her breasts pillowed between them.  Her thighs willingly part, her knees
tighten on his hips and Rhawn groans.

“Rhawn.” 
She breathes, her lush body opening to his and her mouth curving in bliss. 
“Wow...  I wish I could dream of you every night.”

He
loves that she says his name in that breathless tone.

Her
eager response lights a fire in his already overheated blood.  His methodical
process of discovering what makes her happy has earned her desire.  In return
for his efforts, she’s giving him back more than he ever imagined.  Her body
welcomes him…  Her clear eyes are heavy with passion and excitement…  She
smiles in anticipation at his touch…

Rhawn’s
hand grips the small triangle of fabric shielding her black curls, trying to
rip it off her.  He’s still tempering his strength, but it should be enough
force to shred the thin covering.  Instead, the edges of the fabric
unexpectedly stretch in his grasp.  Rhawn frowns in confusion, trying to get
her free of it.  Somehow, he ends up flipping her over so she’s on her
stomach.  That position will work fine for him.

“Hang
on.  It’s elastic.”  She pants.  “Here.”  She takes over, moving beneath him. 
She slides the material down her legs, her back towards him.  Rhawn
instinctively shifts to give her room.

…And
that’s when he sees the marking.

His
jaw drops open in shock.

Rhawn’s
hand clamps down on her thigh, stopping her from moving.  He gapes at the patch
of skin just above the thin, top band of the fabric.  Her skin is branded with
very familiar image.

He
doesn’t want to believe the ramifications.

“What
is this?”  He whispers, although he already knows.  He’s seen it before.  Knows
what it means and what it is.

Knows
what
she
is.

Rationally,
there’s no other explanation.  According to the Clan, rationality has always
eluded him before and he wishes he could switch it off, again.  Because the
truth is going to kill him.

“The
tattoo?”  She asks blankly and cranes her neck around to look down at the
mark.  “It’s supposed to be Times Square.  Yeah, I know.  It sucks, right?  I
got it a couple months back.   There was a bachelorette party and
lot
of tequila involved.  Trust me.”

Rhawn
swallows hard and slowly raises his eyes to meet hers.  “Who are you?”  The
words leave aching holes inside of him and he already has too many pieces
missing.  At this moment, he can feel himself shattering into nothing.

“What?” 
She seems confused.

Rhawn
forces himself to let go of her.  To move off the unbelievable softness of her
body and into the isolated cold.  He crouches on the pelts and struggles not to
give into mindless despair.  “This is… a lie.”  He brings the heels of his
hands up to press against his temples.  “
You
are a lie
.

“You
don’t want me, all of a sudden?”  She has the audacity to look hurt.  “After all
this time, all the nights I needed you, you’re just
stopping?
 
Because I have a tattoo?”

“No!” 
Rhawn roars.  “I
can’t
have you because of what you
are!”

“What
I am?”  She echoes blankly.  “Well, I mean, I don’t have the greatest job in
the world, but a lot of people who are over-educated in useless fields have to
work in bookstores, so…”

He
cuts her off her.  “Why did you pick me?  Because you know that I’m stupid?”

“You’re
not stupid!  That’s idiotic.”  The woman --who isn’t just a woman-- winces at
the phrasing, but keeps going.  “Seriously, why would you think that?”

“Stop
lying!”  Rhawn stands up, pulling her to her feet along with him.  “I
know
your marking!  I have seen it before, in more dreams that you can imagine.” 
He half carries her to the wall of the cave.  It’s covered in his artwork, even
in this fantasy world.  Countless pictures stain the stone in every direction,
one on top of another.  “Look!”  He gestures towards the rough depictions of
his dreamscapes.  “
Look at it!
  And tell me this isn’t your homeland.”

She
stares at the drawings, her head tilting.

The
impossible images fill Rhawn’s head when he sleeps.  He remembers all of them,
so he doesn’t even have to look at the wall to know what she sees.  Every time
he closes his eyes, he pictures that world in vivid, incredible detail.  When
he awakens, he tries to recreate it, but it’s so hard to capture all the colors
and shapes.  Structures that tower over the ground.  Lights that shine in the
night.  Boxes that move along smooth trails that stretch off into infinity.

That
place –that fantastic, beautiful place—is what he dreams of when he doesn’t
dream of Lucy.

“New
York?”  Her fingers moved to brush the painted image of a stoic woman in
flowing robes holding a torch above her head.  “Yeah.”  Her expression is
baffled.  “Of course, I live there.  Well, I live in Jersey, but I commute.”

“Newyork?” 
Was that where Earth, the home of the gods, was located?  It had to be.

She
shakes her head.  “This dream is some kind of symbolic thing, because of the
reunion, right?  Fifteen years out of high school and --okay
fine
--
I’m not the most successful graduate that Woodward High’s ever seen.  I didn’t
live up to my potential and do something special.  I never changed the world. 
But, I’m certainly not ready to curl up in a cave and die just because…”

He
cuts her off.  “Tell me.”  It’s hard to get the words out.  Even now, Rhawn
knows he’s a fool for asking.  For needing her to verify what any child would
already know.  But, how could it be true?  How could she possibly be evil? 
“Are you… the Destroyer?”

Her
face crinkles into a baffled squint.  “The what...?”

The
world begins shaking around them, cutting her off.  Under their feet, the small
pebbles slide back and forth on the stone floor.  He can feel the vibrations
running up from the ground, through his entire body, and the island sink
another foot into the Infinite Sea.

What
other answer does he need, besides that?

Lucy
glances at him in surprise, pretending not to understand.  “Is it an
earthquake?” She reaches over to steady herself on his arm, as the floor moves
beneath them.

“It’s
the
Ardin.
” 
He corrects, softly.  “The sinking.”

She,
of all beings, knows that.

“The
what?”

“The
end of the world.”

“The
WHAT?

Voices
shout outside.

Rhawn’s
head turns to look at the entrance of the cave, although he already knows that
he won’t see anyone else inside this dream.  He never does, when she’s here. 
It’s always just the two of them.  The yelling comes from the waking world. 
They’re already coming for him.

He’s
about to wake up.  They can both feel it.

“Wait! 
Don’t go.  Not yet.”  Her fingernails dig into his arm.  For some reason, she’s
tinted them a red so dark they’re nearly black.  It’s probably a mark of evil,
but that does nothing to lessen how pretty he finds them.

Or
how much he wants her.

Even
knowing that she’s manipulated him for cycle upon cycle with dreams and that
she’s the Destroyer of All, destined to sink the world…  Everything inside of
Rhawn
still
wants this woman.  Still loves her.  Still
knows that she is his.

He
really is an idiot.

“Tell
me what’s going on?”  She gazes up at him in bewildered worry.  “Will you be
alright?”

“No.” 
Rhawn intones.  He will be blamed for the shaking and possibly executed.  The
Clan is too on edge for reason.

…But,
if he’s going to die either way, he’ll die with the taste of her seared into
his memory.  Rhawn yanks her forward, his mouth slamming over hers, again.  The
woman’s lips part beneath his, welcoming and sweet.  “Kissing” her is worth
anything.  Her naked body presses against his, her arms going around his neck. 
And, honestly, he doesn’t care if this damns him.  Not a bit.

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