Possessed by a Dark Warrior (44 page)

“I swear,” he husked, voice thick, clogged with the emotions she stirred in him—the need, the love, and the desperate desire to make her happy again. “If my presence keeps those dark thoughts at bay then you will not be able to get rid of me. I will stick to you like glue.”

“Glue?” Her eyebrows pinched together. “What is glue?”

He swept his thumb over the back of her hand. “It is a product that mortals use to fuse two items together. A sticky substance. I hear it is sometimes made from animal bones.”

The pain in her eyes faded, curiosity rising to replace it. “You know the mortal realm well?”

He nodded.

She leaned closer. “Will you tell me about it? I cannot go there but I would like to know it.”

Her and all dragons. They were all fixated on learning about it since they had been banished from that realm, cursed to have their powers stripped from them the moment they entered it and to die if they lingered there.

“I will tell you everything about it. Whatever you want to know.”

Her smile could have illuminated all of Hell.

Gods, if he had known the mortal realm was the way to her heart, he would have been telling her everything about it since the moment she had driven back the darkness in him in that cell in Tenak’s castle.

She opened her mouth to speak.

Someone appeared beside him and she was behind him in an instant, her hands clutching his shoulders and a low snarl escaping her.

Loren arched an eyebrow at her and then flicked Bleu a very emotionless look that he presumed was meant to conceal the myriad of feelings that were shining in his eyes. His prince had always been rather poor at hiding his emotions.

“Our allies have arrived,” Loren said, deep voice smooth and calm, but still not hiding his amusement or his twisted sense of satisfaction.

He was gloating.

Bleu scowled at him. So what if he had found his mate and it was obvious he had feelings for her? He was still behaving in a more sane and reasonable manner than Loren had when he had met Olivia, or any of the damned males he knew had acted when they had met their fated females.

Although, using his incomplete bond as an excuse to punch his meddling prince in his perfect face was starting to look appealing.

Loren frowned back at him, his acute senses clearly warning him of the imminent threat.

His prince held his hand out to Taryn. “Would you like me to teleport you back to the war room?”

Bleu shot to his feet and growled at Loren. There was little point in concealing his feelings when Loren knew he felt something for Taryn.

“Hands off.” He smacked his left one against the one Loren offered to Taryn, knocking it away. “I will escort Taryn back.”

Loren smiled wickedly. “Very well… but I do have one request. You laid a hand on me, and I am required to report such behaviour to the council so you may be punished.”

Damn. His prince was up to something. He had provoked him on purpose in order to get something he wanted in exchange for not snitching on him to the council.

Bleu had the sinking feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever it was.

Loren clasped his hands together in front of him and cracked a grin that made Bleu reconsider punching him because it couldn’t make his punishment any worse than it looked like it was going to be.

“We have a special guest. I will not tell the council about what you did if you are nice to him.”

With that, blue-purple light chased over Loren’s body and he disappeared, leaving a lingering outline of himself behind that faded as Bleu glared at it. A special guest? More like a living hell to Bleu. A week ago, he would have immediately thought Loren was talking about King Thorne, but now there was only one male who roused Bleu’s anger and pain.

There was only one male who Loren would do anything to make sure that Bleu was nice to, even resorting to setting Bleu up so he could blackmail him into it.

“What was that all about?” Taryn whispered from behind him.

Bleu huffed.

“Prince Vail is coming.”

Bleu teleported into the main courtyard of the castle and set Taryn away from him, but refused to relinquish her right hand. He clutched it firmly in his left and battled the desire to take her far away from this realm where she felt so unsafe and threatened, to a place where they could be alone.

A place with no other males around to look upon her curves with hunger in their eyes.

He scowled at every unmated male in the courtyard, his glare lingering on those who didn’t immediately look away, holding their gazes until they eventually backed down and turned to leave.

Beside him, Taryn was quiet, but he could feel her eyes on him, studying his face, warming his skin, heating his bones.

When every male had finally turned their focus elsewhere and the dark urge to fight had faded to a more manageable level, he shifted his gaze down to her. She smiled, a small one that spoke of knowing and also satisfaction. His little dragon was pleased that he was so fiercely protective of her, had silently challenged every male present and had won against all of them, driving them away.

He flexed his fingers against her hand, locking his more tightly between hers, showing her that his protective behaviour was born of more than a mere promise to keep her safe.

It was born of a deep and dark possessiveness.

It welled from his heart, from his most base and primal instincts as her mate.

She was his, and all who gazed upon her would know it, because he would make them intimately acquainted with pain and suffering, and death.

He tugged her forwards, turning his black glare on the soldiers ahead of them who guarded the grand entrance of the towering castle. The males wisely kept their eyes forwards, focuses locked on a point far beyond him. It didn’t stop him from snarling quietly at them as he passed or pulling Taryn closer to him, switching sides with her so he could have his arm around her while still holding her hand, practically pinning her to his side.

He was surprised he didn’t send his black formal attire away and replace it with the new armour Loren had given to him, or call his obsidian blade to his hand.

Fuck, being away from her had really messed with his head and his heart, and had apparently driven him deep into his instincts as her fated male, rousing them and bringing them to a point where he felt he was beginning to lose control.

He glanced down at her where she walked beside him, her footsteps faltering as she struggled to walk while held against him, her right arm pulled up by his, locked with his hand where it rested over her shoulder.

It hit him that he was acting exactly as he had vowed he would never behave on finding his mate.

He was behaving like a prick.

But she was his.

Mine.

He felt it in every molecule in his body as he gazed down at her. It drummed in his blood. Beat in his heart. Roared in his mind.

She was his.

Mine
.

That word was a low possessive growl that rumbled through him.

It made him want to scrub a hand over his face and groan.

Hadn’t he told Loren and Kyter that he would never act like this? Snarling such thoughts, or saying them aloud, felt stupid and cliché to him. He had said he wouldn’t act like the other males he knew, but here he was, growling ‘mine’ over Taryn and getting in every unmated male’s face, threatening them whether they had looked at her or not.

Gods help him.

He led her up to the war room, lost in his thoughts, in possessive and dangerous imaginings that had him aching to take her back to her room and stamp his claim on her. She wriggled against him, ramping up his desire as she turned his mind firmly towards thoughts of touching her again, and having her touch him.

He needed her.

The way her fingers toyed with his, thumb caressing and teasing his hand, and the feelings that flowed through their link, said he wasn’t the only one indulging in wicked thoughts. Two days apart was far too long. He wasn’t sure how he had survived that long without touching her.

He twirled her and had her pinned against the glittering pale grey stone wall of the corridor before she could even react, and had claimed her lips before she could loose a gasp. He swallowed the shocked sound as it turned into a groan, and joined that moan with one of his own as her hands came up to press against his chest, fingertips digging in hard through his black jacket. Her mouth was hot on his, desperate and wild, her kiss so fierce it made his blood catch fire. He gathered her closer, snaking his left arm around her waist, and kissed her harder, as desperate for more as she was.

A sound echoed along the corridor, a dim murmur of voices coming from the closed door far to his left.

The war room.

The sensible part of him said to stop but he couldn’t. He needed his female. His beautiful mate.

She had better control than he did though and pushed him back, breaking free of his lips and turning her cheek to him when he tried to kiss her again. He settled for kissing along her jaw and down her neck, his mouth watering as his fangs elongated, a different hunger rising in him as he felt her pulse hammering against his lips.

Beating in his chest.

“Later,” she whispered, and he could hear that she didn’t want to stop, she wanted to continue what he had started.

But the demon kings and his prince were waiting in the war room.

For them.

Bleu drew down a deep breath to steady himself, closed his eyes and focused to purge the hunger from his mind and his body, slowly clawing back control. When his need had gone from a boil to a fierce simmering in his veins, he reluctantly released Taryn and stepped back.

She looked up at him, her striking violet-to-white eyes dark with the hunger he could still feel in her. His female needed. It was almost enough to have him lunging for her again, dragging her back against him for another kiss. Only her hand claiming his stopped him together with her reassuring smile, one that told him she would keep that promise she had made and as soon as the meeting was done, they would pick things back up where they had left off.

Which only made him want to rush the meeting.

It wasn’t important.

So whatever they discussed might affect the future of the elf kingdom as well as the demon realms, and possibly all of Hell.

Big deal.

He closed his eyes and huffed, unimpressed with himself.

His kingdom came first. He had always placed it above his own needs and finding his mate wouldn’t change that. He had a mission and he would complete it. Nothing would stand in his way.

No matter how tempting and beautiful she was.

A blush rose onto her cheeks as he stared at her, probably looking like a lovesick idiot. He certainly felt like one.

She tugged on his hand this time and he obediently followed her towards the arched wooden doors of the war room. He steeled himself as they approached it, preparing to see Vail again. The male had been helpful and seeing him with Rosalind had lessened his hatred towards Vail, but it hadn’t lessened the pain he had locked deep in his heart. He wasn’t sure it was possible to heal that hurt. It would always be there, imprinted on him at a time in his life when he had been most vulnerable, too young to shield himself against it or know better than to idolise someone.

He faltered as she reached for the doorknob and she looked back at him, a curious frown pulling her eyebrows down over her incredible eyes. They searched his, a flicker of concern in them that her feelings backed up.

Bleu sucked down a deep fortifying breath.

“Is it the other prince?” she whispered and turned to face him.

He nodded, because in that moment he realised that he could share anything with the female standing before him. He didn’t have to hold anything back in order to protect himself because he knew she would never hurt him. It was right there in her eyes and in the way she squeezed his hand, sympathy and tenderness flowing from her and into him through their link.

“I served in his legion when he turned on his own people. I saw him kill those I called friend, but worse than that… he shattered… a part of me… the part that held him aloft, like a fucking god… idolised and adored him… like a fucking idiot.” Bleu looked away from her when her eyebrows furrowed and she reached up to touch his cheek.

Her hand stopped just short, but he could still feel the heat of her skin and the comfort she had meant to offer, and he cursed himself for denying himself both of those things in some ridiculous need to maintain some sort of distance between them. He didn’t want there to be any distance between them, not a single drop of air, but it was hard to overcome the instinct to protect himself. He sighed and exhaled hard, and fought to let it go. Taryn had shared her pain with him, and he wanted to share his with her. He wanted her to know him.

“When I joined the army, I worked hard with one goal.” He opened his eyes and looked across at her, met her soft and tender gaze, felt it soothe the hurt beginning to brew inside him, tempering it. “I wanted to serve under Prince Vail. When I was placed into his legion, it was a dream come true… but it turned into a nightmare.”

“You feel guilty that you survived.”

Gods, did he.

“I saw so many die… and I should have died too… I should not have survived… but I did… because…” He sucked down another sharp breath and curled his fingers into fists as he forced the words he had always kept to himself out into the world for her to hear. “Because he spared me.”

Her eyes widened.

Bleu broke away from her and shoved his fingers through his hair as he took agitated strides across the wide corridor, his heart pounding hard against his chest. He threw her a glance, caught the pity in her eyes, and growled.

“He looked right at me… covered in the blood of my friends… eyes wild and black… claws raised and poised to strike me down… and then he left… teleported… and I looked at the blood-soaked battlefield around me, a fight only a few had survived, my damn head spinning and ears ringing, and I knew… I knew he had spared me.”