Hers to Claim (9 page)

A soft moan slipped from her lips when he
rolled her nipples and then pinched hard. As before, she stiffened but lassitude recaptured her mere moments later as his delicate touch made her forget the momentary pain. Slipping easily in her moisture, his index finger lazily circled the little bud at the apex of her sex and then slid to ring the opening to her inner heat with a tickling promise of penetration. As if compelled by that faint touch, she couldn’t stop the circling of her hips.

His hand
s traced back to her breasts and teased her nipples, then pinched hard and returned to between her legs. The third time he did this, her nipples continued to throb with life, aching for further touch, hypersensitive to every movement of the blanket across them, even though his fingers had moved on. Between her legs, his touch became lighter and slower, pushing her closer and closer to climax before retreating. She arched her hips to follow his elusive touch.

“Please.” She whispered the entreaty
in a mindless state of arousal.

“No.” The low rumble tickled her ear.
A broad palm wrapped her wrist and pulled gently.

Sanity rushed in
, and she realized that her hands awkwardly wrapped Hel’s bare cock as her body writhed in reaction to his touch. At some point, she had undone the opening to his pants. His hot length filled and wept in her grasp. In response to his silent instructions, she released him.

He shoved himself back into his garment with a grunt and shifted to close his pants.
“If we must work the crystals tonight, I will allow us to come.” Hel’s hoarse words brought a groan of thankfulness from her.

Behind them, the horses screamed in fear and strained at their ties. Hel jerked his head up. Suddenly she sprawled, naked
, on the bare ground. Hel thrust to his feet with a hissed curse and seized his sword and knife. He stood in a low crouch in front of her, every muscle tensed in readiness. A low growl vibrated in his chest and a snarl pulled at the lips of his mouth. 

The sight that met her eyes froze her blood
, and her hands scrambled uselessly for her absent bow. Two wolvertines, twins to the one she had slain earlier, slunk in hissing menace toward them. Insane intelligence gleamed from eyes that swung intently from her to the only thing standing in their way of an easy kill—Hel.

The creatures
separated. Silently, one charged Hel. Adonia had no time to arm herself. She stood before the second prowling monster, nude. She jerked up the heavy leather saddle and used it shield-like as the second creature crept toward her. Saliva dripped off curved fangs. Malevolent intellect in insane yellow eyes dismissed her threat. Certain she saw her imminent demise, Adonia clubbed the mutant on its tender snout with the hard seat of the saddle. The beast paused for a moment, shaking its head with an angry snarl.

She must have made some sound of fear. With a pirouette of incredible agility, Hel broke off his combat with the first creature. In a tremendous sweeping slash, he brough
t his heavy sword from high above his head and decapitated the mutant beast facing her. Blood arced into the air from his ferocious strike as he spun to re-engage the first beast, impaling it upon his enormous blade. Only the hilt was visible as he thrust into the creature’s gut; only the tip emerged between the beast’s mighty shoulders. In silence, his face distorted in rage, Hel hurled the monster through the air and off his sword.

Adonia
heard its spine crack as it hit a boulder and the creature fell motionless in the dirt. Hel poised over the mass of bloody, gray-tan fur, sword uplifted for another blow, a spectacular portrait of primal male supremacy. Adonia stood stunned, overwhelmed by the strength and unrestrained violence of the man before her. Hel more than matched those deviant animals in lethal ferocity. He surpassed them. Her eyes had borne witness to the emergence of the persona the merciless Haarb had so feared. Gone was the controlled prince of Nyth Uchel. Here, before her, radiating brutal, feral wrath stood 
bás dtost
, the silent death. He stole her breath away with his magnificence.

Slowly his tense body relaxed and
bás dtost
morphed into the normal countenance of Prince DeHelios. His sword dropped to his side. He walked to her and handed her some blankets. “Are you hurt? Did those monsters touch you, break the skin?”

Adonia could only shake her head numbly.
It was one thing to know intellectually Hel was a lethal adversary. It was quite another to witness it. Previously, Doral or Ramsey had topped her list of most deadly. She had fought beside them. Now? It was Hel.

“Thank the Goddess.
Wash any blood off you immediately and cover yourself. I hear horses.”

M
oments later, Lord Ramsey rode in. He led a rider-less horse. A half-lidded Steffania snugged into his lap with her arms wrapping his neck. His eyes roved the carnage. “What in the name of the Mother?”

“The
beasts that have stalked us since this morning, I think. They waited until we split up and then moved in.”

“Anyone hurt?”

Hel shook his head. “Well? What did you discover?”

Ram murmured something to Steffania
. She smiled up at him then held out a lazy arm. Dangling from the end of Steffania’s fist was the pouch Hel had tossed to Ramsey. She opened her fist and it dropped to the ground. Light blazed from its open mouth.

“It looks as though you will not need me tonight,” Adonia murmured. In spite of the animal attack
or perhaps heightened because of it, sexual need tortured her.

Hel stepped to her, blocking her from Ramsey’s sight.
“Mmm, I want to taste you, Nia. I want to sink into your warmth and forget all responsibility,” he returned quietly. “We are both frustrated in our desires.” He pressed a brief kiss on her ear. “I will make this up to you,” then she felt a light pat between her legs. “Remember. Mine.” He left her in a swath of blankets, holding her clothes while he ran water over his blood-flecked torso and hands and then pulled his shirt and tunic on over his head.

Frustration mixed with a sense her life had become entirely too unpredictable
. A nod was all she could manage. She pulled on her trousers and shirt while Hel assisted Ramsey and led the horses to the high-line. Her groin ached, and the flesh between her legs wept. Every time she moved, the friction of her shirt against her erect nipples tortured her.

“
I want to sink into your warmth and forget my responsibilities.”
Did Hel see her as something more than a healer and a female source of energy? He’d certainly defended her ferociously. And what about his whispered,
“I will make this up to you.”
Did that mean what she thought? Or was she engaged in wishful thinking again? Unsteady legs took her to help Steffania. She wanted to
do
something to take her mind off what had just happened—and what had
not
happened.

Adonia jerked the girth loose and yanked the saddle from Ramsey’s horse.

“You a
re the picture of frustration, Healer.” Steffania cast a languid smile her way as she leisurely stripped her horse of his tack. Relaxation and supreme contentment permeated Steffania’s features and movements.

“
And you’re
not
.” With the heavy saddle balanced on her hip like a child and the saddle blankets trailing in the dirt, Adonia stomped away toward their pile of bedding then stopped. Her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”

Steffania joined her with her own gear held in her arms. “I understand.
Do you want to talk about it?”

“No!”

The woman shouldered her lightly with a chuckle, and they both began walking.

“You were right about my…” Steffania thought for a moment
, “…change in status, I’d guess you’d say.”

“D
oes it make any difference in what you experience with Lord Ramsey?” Adonia had always wondered if the rites heightened pleasure. She had taken several steps before she realized Steffania wasn’t beside her. She turned and smiled at the lost-in-lust look on Steffania’s face. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She waited until Steffania caught up again and they fell to arranging the bedding.

“It’s as if something
magickal awakens each nerve in my body to his touch.” Steffania spoke while she knelt and removed fruit and the last of their bread from the packs. The redhead paused and went limp. “And climax is…” She looked at Adonia and crossed her eyes with a comic drop of her jaw.

Adonia
snorted softly and sat cross-legged beside her. “I know what you mean about the touching. When Hel touches me, unfamiliar parts become alive to the slightest pressure.” She gazed at the tethered horses without really seeing them.

Steffania
crunched into a tart, green mela fruit and addressed Adonia with a crooked smile. “When he finally lets you come, I hope you aren’t somewhere you must be quiet.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not a screamer.”

Steffania huffed then stated flatly, “I screamed myself hoarse.” She examined the mela, took a bite and spoke through a mouthful. “But then Ramsey does that to me anyway.”

“Does what, V
ixen?” Ram walked up and sprawled, loose-limbed, next to the women. Hel followed him and sat next to Adonia.

“I’m not going to tell you. It will only go to your
already swollen head and god knows you don’t need encouragement.”

Ramsey picked up a piece of fruit
, bit into it, and chewed thoughtfully. “Ah. You were talking of my superlative sexual skills.” He continued to consume his mela.

Adonia
ducked her head and smiled at the gagging noises coming from Hel.

Steffania shook her head in mock sorrow. “
I’ve heard it said people never grow up. They merely learn how to behave in front of others.” She leaned over and whispered loudly, “Ramsey has done neither.”

Ram arched an eyebrow at her comment but continued to munch on his fruit.

~~~

Is it too much to ask, to sleep through
a night? Is it too much?
Adonia lay awake and stared at anything other than the paired pinpoints of malevolent red that tested the circumference of light. She thought of Steffania’s circling shark analogy and shuddered. The Blue Dagger slept with Ramsey curled protectively around her. Hel reclined against a nearby boulder, his bow across his lap, his sword at his feet and kept watch. How could those three remain so composed when sure death circled and probed mere feet away?

“Adonia, come.” Hel’s
low voice broke the quiet. She propped up on an elbow. He stretched a blanket-draped arm in invitation to her. “I know you don’t sleep, and I would enjoy your company.”

She grabbed a blanket and rose to join him. The heat of his body felt good against her chilled skin
as he cocooned them in companionable warmth. With a wiggle, she snugged herself into his side. “How do you do it—sit here so calmly while a few steps away, death waits to devour you? Aren’t you afraid?”

He shrugged slightly
. “Of course I am afraid, but fear and I are familiar opponents. I turn death away every day. If it is not the leeches, it is the blight or a mutant beast. If not the blight, then the villagers need food or wood to burn in their hearths. Few will risk the unknown horrors in the forest, so I go. And always, a dark Torre Bianca rises into the sky in silent accusation.” His murmurs held infinite weariness.

Does this man ever put down his burdens?
“When I was a little girl, my father used to tell me stories of fabled Nyth Uchel and her shining white tower, Torre Bianca.” Adonia rested her head on Hel’s shoulder. “Were they ever true? Or were they just stories a father made up to entertain his daughter?” Hel remained silent for so long Adonia gave up waiting for an answer. His voice roused her from a half-sleep.

“Shall I tell you
about the Nyth Uchel I knew as a child?”

“Please.”

“As a boy, I played in a castle filled with light and life and joy. Abundance graced our noble family and all those in our demesne. My brothers and I ran through streets in the city below which teemed with commerce and prosperity, with people going about their business, happy and whole. Hardship didn’t exist. Poverty was unheard of.

“
As we matured, my older brother and his wife, and later I and my wife, assisted Mother and Father. We performed the rites established by Federago
DeHelios, he who founded the original
Tetriarch
and built the first and greatest of Verdantia’s sigil towers, Torre Bianca.”

Hel’s head fell back against the boulder,
his eyes full of warm memories. For the first time, Adonia saw the lines around his eyes and mouth smooth, devoid of care or worry. Hel freed his arm from the blankets and extended his hand in a sweeping arc. “Above all of this richness, the shining white tower of Torre Bianca blazed. She cast a radiance that held even winter at bay. Our Mother graced Nyth Uchel as a place of eternal spring. The city had been so since the First Tetriarch of my forefathers. For hundreds of years, House DeHelios fulfilled its sacred duty to Torre Bianca and Nyth Uchel and all who dwelled within as befitted Verdantia’s first capital and Her most favored city—until now.”