Rapture Untamed (20 page)

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Authors: Pamela Palmer

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Adult

BOOK: Rapture Untamed
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His words caught her by surprise and rang falsely in her heart. “No. You’re not making love to me out here at all. You did that only once. In your room, on the wreckage of your bed, you made love to me. Tonight, all we’ve done is fucked, nothing more.”

She grabbed his jaguar’s head in both hands. “Shift, Jag. Shift back, dammit!”

With a low growl, he began to shimmer. The magic swept over her, into her, as he shifted back into a man, the feel incredible.

And he was once more a man, his body covering hers. With a hard thrust, he entered her, shoving himself deep inside her once, twice. He pulled out, grabbed her hips, and flipped her onto her knees.

Olivia growled with frustration. “The jackass is back.”

Without answering, he jerked her hips back and
mounted her hard from behind. There was no tenderness, no care in his touch. He was punishing her for her honesty. Punishing them both.

“Damn you,” she hissed, and pulled her knee up, slamming her heel back into his upper thigh, knocking him back on his rear. With the speed and force gained from her feeding, she turned and launched herself at him, tackling him down. In a single move, she straddled him and took him deep inside her, face-to-face.

Jag’s big hands gripped her hips, and he thrust deep, his eyes closing as he arched back.

But she locked her thighs, holding him inside her, not letting him move. “Look at me, Feral,” she demanded.

His eyes opened, blinking lazily as he complied.

“We’re going to have a talk, you and I.”

“Now?” he asked with a laugh.

“Right now, while I have your attention.”

His fingers flexed in her buttocks cheeks. “Sugar, you most certainly have my attention.”

“Something happened in your bedroom.”

He stroked her rear. “Damn straight it did.”

“Something other than sex. You let me see the man you really are, Jag. You didn’t hide behind the bad attitude. Something happened between us. I felt it. I know you did, too, because you’re hell-bent on ruining it, now.”

“This isn’t good for you?”

“Don’t play stupid, Jag. You’re not. Though, goodness
knows, I think you’re blind. I see what you’re doing but, honestly, I don’t think you do.”

He rocked against her. “Let me move, Red.”

“Are you so afraid to hear what I have to say?”

His brows lowered in a glare. “I’m trying to get off, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Listen to me for a few more minutes, then I’ll help you get off any way you like.”

“Any way?”

“Any way that doesn’t involve fur.” Olivia stroked his chest with her fingertips. “You blame yourself for your mother’s death, Jag. You hate yourself for it. And you have for nearly three and a half centuries.”

His eyes lost all trace of humor. “Careful, Sugar.” The words dripped warning, but he needed to hear this whether he liked it or not.

“You’ve got to face that day, Jag, look it in the eye, and not from the vantage point of a sixteen-year-old kid. Look at it as an adult. Then you have to forgive the kid you were, Jag. Forgive yourself. Because, whether you see it or not, the guilt has taken over your life. It destroys every good thing that comes into your life.”

His fingers bit into her hips, anger snapping in his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me.”

But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. “You didn’t mean for her to die, Jag. If you had, you wouldn’t still be living with the guilt all these years later. You made some mistakes, but it’s past time you forgave yourself.

“Bitch. Get off me.”

“No.” She pressed her hands hard on his abs. “You’re going to hear this, Feral. You’re being incredibly selfish, making everyone else miserable just to punish yourself. Stop doing it. Leave it in the past and get over it!”

His hand shot up, gripping her jaw almost painfully. Fury fired his eyes. “Why in the hell do you think it matters to me what you say? You have no right shoving your nose into my business. Into my past.”

“I care about you, Jag. Goddess knows why, but you’ve started to matter to me.”

Beneath her, he went utterly still. Then like a volcano exploding, he pushed her off him, onto the grass, and stood up, turning on her. “I don’t need you to care about me.” His voice rose with each word. “I don’t need to matter to a draden-kissed, life-stealing bitch!”

Olivia flinched as if she’d been struck. She’d known he wouldn’t want to hear the truth, but goddess, his words hurt, as he’d meant them to.

“Get away from me, Olivia.” He yanked on the pants he’d shucked earlier. “Just get the hell away from me.”

His every word twisted like a knife in her chest as her own insecurities rose up, threatening to choke her. He was the only one in the world who knew what she was.

She knew he’d struck out at her to hurt her as she’d hurt him, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d told her the truth. She was damaged. Wrong. And no one who truly knew her could ever really care about her.

No one could ever love a life-stealer.

Feeling hollow and beaten, she rose and grabbed her clothes, pulling on her pants. But as she pushed her arms through the armholes of her tank, Jag suddenly moved beside her.

She looked up in surprise, and that was when she saw them. Lyon and Tighe standing in the woods, watching them.

Her pulse leaped with fear, her skin going cold. Had they heard what Jag said to her? What he’d called her?

A draden-kissed, life-stealing bitch.

The shimmers of light told her all she needed to know—five shimmers that circled the small clearing where she and Jag stood. Her heart thundered in her chest as the five Ferals—lion, tiger, wolf, cougar, and snake—shifted into their animals, into a form they must think was safe from a dangerous life-stealer.

A dangerous enemy.

Her.

Jag’s head pounded, his body turning to ice as the Ferals surrounded them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Olivia sway, reeling from the shock of his inadvertent betrayal.

They knew what she was. And the five animals now circled as if to destroy her.

Are you draden-kissed
,
Olivia?
Lyon’s hard voice rang in Jag’s head.

“Yes.” Beside him, Olivia answered, a small quaver in her strong, sure voice, and he knew she must be as terrified as he was.

“She’s safe, Roar.” Jag grabbed Olivia’s arm and pulled her in front of him, his hand going around her waist. Against him she stood ramrod straight. “She’s been draden-kissed for centuries.”

What had he done? He’d attacked her verbally, hitting her where he’d instinctively known he’d hurt her the most. But he hadn’t foreseen an audience. He hadn’t foreseen
this
!

Is that true
,
Olivia?
Lyon asked.

“I’ve been like this for more than four hundred years, Lyon. I’m in complete control.” But a note of doubt slipped into her words and he knew she was thinking of the past day and the Daemon energy that had made her too strong. “Let go of me, Jag.” She pulled at his arm.

“No.” No way in hell was he letting the others touch her.

“Dammit, I said let go of me!”

He released her, and at once she moved away from him. As if she couldn’t stand his touch.

Ice formed in his chest.

Go
,
Olivia
, Lyon said, the animal releasing a fierce, dangerous growl.
Before I change my mind.

Olivia hesitated only a moment before starting for the open space between the huge Bengal tiger and the big gray wolf. As she approached, Tighe sat back on his haunches, Wulfe following his lead, as both let her pass.

Jag started to follow her, but the lion bounded into the circle, blocking his path. With a furious growl, five hundred pounds of angry cat launched at him, knocking him flat on his back on the ground.

In a spray of light, Lyon shifted, already feral. His claws clamped around Jag’s neck, digging deep into his throat.

“How long have you known?” he snarled between wicked fangs.

“Long enough.” His words gurgled from the blood in his throat.

“You brought her into Feral House, endangering everyone. Endangering your Radiant!
And you knew?

For once in his life, he felt no prick of the old desire to rile Lyon further.

“I can feel when she feeds, Roar. Every time. She can’t feed without my knowing, and she would never hurt us even if she could. She isn’t a danger.”

“Like hell she isn’t. She could kill Kara. She could kill any of us.”

“If she chose to, yes. Just as Kara could kill Delaney or Skye by pulling radiance on them. Just as any of the Ferals could kill any of the women. None of us is
safe,
Roar. We’re all deadly if we choose to be.”

For long moments, he stared up into those furious lion eyes, the blood running down his neck and into his throat. But he didn’t fight. He’d known there would be hell to pay if Lyon found out. And he was more than willing to pay it.

With a last growl, Lyon yanked his claws from Jag’s throat and stood.

Jag rose to his feet, watching his chief. “I’m going
after her, Roar. I love her.” The words startled him. His mind tried to recoil from the declaration and failed. Because, dammit, he’d told the truth. Deep inside, his animal growled with approval.

Lyon stared at him, his fangs receding, then scowled. “Goddess help us.” But he didn’t tell him not to go, and that was all the invitation Jag needed.

He took off on two legs, in the direction Olivia had gone, unwilling to lose his pants, and his free pass into human society, unless he had to.

Olivia’s life was over, and it was his fault. Guilt flayed him. He might not have meant to betray her, but dammit, he
had
meant to hurt her. She’d told him things he hadn’t wanted to hear, and he’d lashed out at her.

Because they’d hurt. Because deep down he knew she was right. Cordelia’s death had fucked him up good. He couldn’t get past it. He hated himself for what he’d done that day.

Now he had the rest of his life to hate himself for what he’d done this day, too.

Cordelia would never have won any awards for best mother, but in her own way she’d loved him.

Now Olivia claimed to care about him.

And he’d destroyed them both.

The guilt was almost more than he could bear. But he heard Olivia’s words in his head again.

You’re being incredibly selfish
,
making everyone else miserable just to punish yourself.

And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Exactly what his leader had said all those years ago when he’d called him a selfish, coldhearted bastard. He wasn’t coldhearted. But selfish? Yeah. How many lives had he darkened because of his inability to stop wallowing in his own guilt? How many had he destroyed?

But not now. Not this time. The Jag he’d been before Olivia walked into his life wanted to slink off and castigate himself for failing, for the second time, the most important woman in his life. But he wasn’t that Jag anymore.

Olivia needed him. For once, it wasn’t about him. It was about her. Because he loved her. And because he was goddamn tired of hating himself.

He followed her scent through the yards of one multimillion-dollar home after another. A dog barked. Jag growled, and the dog whimpered and ran the other way.

Not until he reached the cliffs high above the Potomac River did he finally spot her.

Walking now, she glanced back, as if sensing him, her expression hunted.

His hands curled into fists as he longed to carve out his own heart for doing this to her. The self-hatred swirled within him, raking him with sharp, painful claws. But he fought it. He had to deal with what he’d done. Look forward, not back. He couldn’t undo what had happened, and goddess knew there was no making
it right, but he could stay at her side. He could damn well protect her.

Deep inside him, his animal howled with pain.

Her pain. Because her pain had become his.

Always before, his guilt had been about him, the ultimate selfishness. This time, he could think of nothing but her.

He caught up with Olivia as she trailed across the rocks, her breaths shallow and erratic, her skin white as snow.

The guilt tried to rise inside him, and he beat it down. This wasn’t about him anymore.

“Olivia.
Liv.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen, you know that.”

He might as well have been talking to the wind for all the response he got from her. He didn’t deserve a response. He didn’t deserve anything from her. This was his fault, his goddamn royal fucked-up…

It’s not about me!

Maybe not. But he goddamn hated himself.

Olivia climbed out to the farthest point on the rocks and for a moment, he wondered if she would just keep going, falling into the cold, dangerous Potomac far below. Instead, she perched on a narrow ledge, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them as she stared down at the raging river.

He knew she was strong, and yet at that moment she appeared tiny and delicate and so incredibly fragile.
His head pounded with cold denial that he’d betrayed her secret, inadvertently or not. Yes, she was strong, but he’d opened her to death in a thousand ways.

The fear of the draden-kissed went deep in the Therian psyche. For thousands of years, stories had been told of Therian villages wiped out in a single night, the Therians drained in their sleep without ever waking. Without ever knowing they had a life-stealer in their midst.

Logically, most understood that mass death like that almost always happened accidentally, caused by a newly turned Therian who didn’t know they were a danger until it was too late. But the knowledge didn’t change anything. The fear persisted.

Once word got out about Olivia, some would seek to kill her, despite the edict of tolerance. None would allow her near them or their loved ones or their enclaves. Her place in the Therian Guard would be lost.

With his anger and his carelessness, he’d taken everything from her. Everything.

Jag sank to the rock behind her, burying his face in his hands.

She understood him better than anyone ever had. “You’re right, Liv. As much as I’ve denied it, everything you said about me is true. I hate myself. I hate myself for not saving Cordelia. For getting her into that mess in the first place.”

She didn’t respond. He hadn’t really expected her to.
His gaze drank in the sight of her vibrant head, her fragile neck bent as she stared down into the water.

“I won’t let them hurt you, Liv. Any of them. I can’t undo what’s been done, but I can make sure you’re never alone again. I’ll leave the Ferals. I’ll live with you, wherever you want to go. No one is ever going to hurt you.”

Slowly, Olivia turned her head, meeting his gaze with eyes that even now, even after all he’d done to her, radiated with a strength greater than his own.

“Go away, Jag. I don’t want you in my life anymore. I don’t need you.”

He met that gaze and saw no trace of the hatred that should be there. No hint that she cared anything for him at all. Only deep weariness lived in her eyes, and a sadness that tore his heart out.

“You do need me, Liv. They’ll hunt you. If not the Ferals, then someone else.”

She lifted a brow. “And you’d sacrifice your life and your work here to protect me?”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Anyone other than you, you mean?”

The words stabbed him through the heart. “I deserved that. I didn’t mean to betray you, Olivia.”

“No. You didn’t want to hear what I had to say, and you lashed out at me for saying it. And now it doesn’t matter anymore.” She turned away again. “Nothing matters anymore.”

“Olivia…I care about you, too. I think I’m falling in love with you.”

She lifted her head slowly and looked at him over her shoulder, but there was no joy in her expression.

“You don’t believe me.”

“I don’t know, Jag,” she said wearily. “Maybe you do feel something. But it doesn’t matter. Your caring about me, even loving me, isn’t going to do either of us any good until you love yourself. You’ll just keep punishing you and hurting me. Until you learn to forgive yourself and find a way to see past your mistakes to the good person deep inside, you’re not ready to love anyone else.”

She pushed her hair back, propping her elbow on her knees. “It’s okay to fail sometimes. We all do. The key is trusting yourself to try to do the right things. And forgiving yourself if you fall short on occasion. Until you’ve done that, and let go of the guilt and self-hatred, you’re toxic, Jag.”

Olivia turned back to face the river, turning her back on him. “Now go away and leave me alone.”

Jag stared at the back of her head, at her small spine, which even now radiated strength, and he struggled with a pain almost more than he could bear. He couldn’t leave her. Yet he would die before he let anyone hurt her again.

Even him.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, watching the
rising sun and trying not to hate himself, when he first heard the cry. A child’s cry of fear.

His head snapped around and he spied her immediately, a girl of no more than nine or ten, running through the woods toward the cliffs where they sat. She wore jeans and a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, but the shirt was torn at the neck, and tears streamed down her terrified face.

Jag leaped to his feet and started for her.

The child saw him and ran straight for him. “Help me! He’s trying to hurt me.”

Jag growled in fury.

“Bastard,” Olivia hissed beside him.

Jag hadn’t realized she’d followed, and he met her gaze. For one fleeting moment, they were once more in perfect accord.

As one, they climbed off the rocks as the girl reached them. She held out her hands, and Jag took one as Olivia took the other. No one was hurting her.

An odd, almost sly smile broke over the child’s mouth. Then she looked up at them and Jag froze. He told himself to snatch his hand from hers, but it was too late. Enthrallment descended over his mind as he stared into a pair of copper-ringed eyes.

The eyes of a young Mage.

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