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Taken (Many Lives Book 2) Page 20
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Protecting her.
They cluster around her as if she’s fragile, as if she’s too important for them to lose at any cost.
Jai gets to his feet, then helps me up before wrapping me to his side, and a little behind, protecting me with his body. I don’t protest. Sliding my arms around him, I grip his waist.
"I’m sorry for what he did. Gabriel broke the code of the pack, and attacked you. He didn’t deserve to live," the female says.
"He’s dead," Jai snaps.
She nods, a quick, abrupt motion with her head. "I’d have done it myself if you hadn’t."
She holds out her hand and Jai’s body tenses. Below my hands his muscles go rock-hard.
She wants his sword.
His sword?
Jai hesitates and she says, "I have as much right to it as you."
He doesn’t move but under my arm his muscles tense. Tension coils his body, lending it a steely strength. He feels like he wants to be anywhere else but here. And yet his attention is completely focused on the female in front of us. There’s silence as they lock eyes, a battle of wills in which I know neither will give.
They are too similar.
Like each other.
Like siblings fighting over a toy that was given to one in favor of the other.
Is this his sister?
Even as the thought strikes me, I know it’s true. Then everything goes out of my mind as Jai releases the sword from the scabbard and hands it over to her.
47
I wake up to a hard male chest against my back.
They’d brought us to a small house at the edge of the refugee camp and left us there. Jai had helped me to the small outdoor bath, pouring buckets full of water over me, holding me up till the tears stopped flowing. Till the tepid water had washed away some of the dirt. Whatever was visible on the outside, at least.
He’d cleaned my wounds and bandaged the cut on my chest. And helped me into the clothes left for us, with so much gentleness that I’d found myself crying all over again.
I couldn’t look at him, though, couldn’t tell him what I was feeling just then.
And he hadn’t asked, hadn’t pushed. He'd just taken care of me. And when he’d coaxed me to lie down on the thin mattress in a corner of the room, I’d insisted he stay. Gripping his arms, holding onto him, I had fallen asleep.
Now I come awake to the sound of my own screams still echoing in my ears. I’m wrapped in his arms. The heat from his chest flows over my skin, holds me captive. I can’t move. I want to stay here and savor the feeling that creeps over me. Warmth. The kind I want to sink into, courses through my veins. I want to let it crack the ice that lurks in the shadows. Some of the mistrust I’ve carried inside since the soldiers killed my father begins to melt.
The walls that I’d built against the world have been torn down by the brute. And I’m surprised by how fragile I feel.
You’d think surviving on my own all these years would have prepared me for the worst. That my fighting skills honed by training with the rebels would have helped. But when it mattered most, I’d been unable to defend myself.
Seeing that intent in his eyes, his need to tear me up, to hurt me in the worst possible way, had shaken me. It had messed with my head and left me frozen, incapable of fighting back.
And now the aftershocks run through me.
Perhaps if Jai was not here I wouldn’t have gone to pieces.
But his very presence is a contrast. A reminder that there’s still goodness and strength, and things which are still pure in this world. And that sends a shudder of awareness down my back.
As if sensing my turmoil, Jai’s arm tightens around me. My head tucks into the space below his chin. His breath brushes my hair, shivering over my scalp and a tremor runs down my back.
He pulls me even closer, closer than I’d have ever thought possible, and tears prick the back of my eyelids.
I still don’t open my eyes.
Just let his caring wash over me.
Love.
Comfort
Lust.
I hadn’t thought I’d feel lust again, not so soon after what had happened with the shifter. But feeling Jai’s skin on mine, his arousal strong, pushing against my back, I know I want it. I want him around me, in me. I want Jai’s essence to wipe away the bitter aftertaste of what the shifter had tried to do to me.
I arch back, trying to feel more of him. More of his pulse beating below my chest. More of his heart that I know is loyal to his mother; that does not agree with everything his father does but will often obey out of respect.
That will do anything for the city of which he’s the Guardian.
That will take care of his team as if they were his own.
That will take care of me.
That is shattering me even more, even as he is aware of the terror racing through my mind.
The shifter had hurt me, torn through my emotions, but he hadn’t gotten to me. Hadn’t managed to get to that part of me that I hold inside, deep inside, in a place I’d forgotten even existed.
A space I’d been saving up, for him, the man next to me. Even before I’d met him, I’d felt him. Known he was there. Known it was him the moment I’d seen him.
I want to turn to him, and press my lips to him, but I don’t.
Not this time.
This time I just wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Go still. Let my body just fall into myself till my eyes look inside me, become one with the person I used to be.
That young, happy girl who’d skipped and played on the heath. Who’d run up the slope of the small hill, the wind in her hair, towards the line of trees at the far end. Racing, racing, for a horizon so close, yet one I knew I couldn’t reach.
Tears are running down my cheeks in earnest.
And yet I don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t make any sound.
But he knows. For Jai slides around, till he’s facing me. His face is in front of mine, his breath warm on my cheek. His hand is around my waist, the other below his head. And I heave a sigh of relief, not knowing I’d been waiting for this. For him to come to me.
His eyes sear over my face, my lips, my eyes, which are still shut. They hesitate there before continuing below to my shoulders, exposed above the torn sheet, and lower to where the cloth clings to my body.
He moves the sheet down so the cool night air from the open window hits my skin, causing goosebumps. Another shiver runs down my back. The sound of the rain hitting the roof patters over us. Then there is only me and him. And the now.
He leans in close and brushes his lips over mine.
Once.
So soft. Sweet.
Almost not there.
As if he wants to wipe away everything I’d felt and heard and sensed in the last few years. In the last few hours.
As if he wants to replace it all with him.
Then he turns me on my back and covers my body with his. I groan aloud. His weight settles over me, flows over me, molds to me. So real, so true that a fresh bout of tears pricks the back of my eyelids.
This time I open my eyes and let them flow. Let them wash away the last vestiges of what that brute had done to me. I’d fought back though, hadn’t I? I’d have killed myself rather than let him have me.
And now you are here and alive and with Jai.
My eyes snap onto his and in the darkness his amber eyes glow and burn orange. Like embers of a flame that sweep over me, setting little sparks alight wherever they touch.
A fire which purifies, consumes the last of my fears. Sets me ablaze with a want so deep that I gasp. He leans in and captures my mouth. Kisses me and drinks of me deeply.
And then there is only a searing want.
A need that drives me so blind that I can’t see, or feel, or touch any more. That makes me surge against him, wrapping my legs around his waist, deepening the kiss even more. My hands grip his hair and I pull him close. Closer still. So close that it ache
s. Everything aches. My lips consumed by him. My breasts crushed under his chest. My arms gripping his back, running my hands over his naked skin. Feeling those muscles shift, shove, bunch as he slides his palms below my skin, lifting me off the bed. Turning to place me on his chest. As if I’m a child, dwarfed by him. Surrounded by him. As if he knows that I need to take the lead. That he’s given me permission, to bury my nose in his neck and smell him. That familiar smell of cinnamon and pine; and something else. Something edgier that I’d been trying to place from the first time I’d touched him. An earthy note like when the first rains hit parched clay and are absorbed instantly. Like the fluid that runs in the veins of the gods.
I flick my tongue out to touch the hollow at the base of his throat. The one which carries his essence, coiled there, deep, sweet, pungent, with a zing that bounces off my tongue. Protective. Cleansing. I lean in and bite him right there and he groans. The sound fills my ears, echoing in my brain.
It drives me a little over the edge.
I grip his muscles, my fingers stretched while trying to accommodate the width of his biceps.
At my urging he moves on to his back, taking me with him. Spread over him, I pull his arms back, pinning them above his head. And that arouses him further.
I feel him harden below me, feel the blood throbbing through his veins.
His eyes don’t leave mine. They are deep orange, burning with a fire that glows inside, seeming to ignite from his heart.
And he’s mine.
I know that.
And he knows it too.
Knows that I need to do this at my own pace. And he lets me take charge. For now. Lets me grip his arousal so it fills my hand, beats there with a pulse as strong as his heart racing below mine.
I hold him there.
Hold him. Feel him grow, harden, thicken. Sense the desire that sweeps through him, burning him up so the sweat breaks out over his forehead. Let the heat rise off his chest and slam into me, putting into words what he isn’t saying.
And that is my undoing.
Gripping him, I run my hand down the length of his arousal, again and again. Below me his body jerks. Another groan rumbles up his chest, through our joined skin, slithering over my nerve endings. I feel myself grow wet. I fit myself to him and feel the shock still his body.
His muscles tense, bunch, and I’m surrounded by his hardness. So unfamiliar. And so him. So right. His eyes flutter open and when he speaks his voice is gruff, strained, as if he’s holding himself back by a last shred of control.
He whispers, "Let me touch you."
And before he can even finish his statement I am moving, as if my heart cannot wait, is impatient with the knowledge of what it already senses. Can’t wait for my brain to catch up anymore.
Holding on to his chest, my nails digging into the muscles, marking him, I raise my waist and lower it on him. Slowly. Slow enough to feel every inch of him meet my flesh. Sink into the hardness of him, feel the smooth-roughness of him scrape my inner walls. It brings with it a pain so intense I cry out.
And it’s as if a part of me has called out to him and now he can’t stop himself. Now he must come to me too.
Jai grips my waist and raises me up. And lowers me on him. And this time pain shivers through both of us. Then he angles himself and suddenly he's deep inside, in a place I never even knew existed. He thrusts into me, going deeper, till he comes up against a last resistance. Hidden away, so secret almost as if it didn’t exist. He whispers against it, and that melts too.
I cry out again, only to have my breath captured by his lips and swallowed. And it's as if the essence that was mine and mine alone is now also his.
"Aria."
Hearing my name breaks through a barrier I never knew I’d had. A knotted blackness inside me dissolves, and is gone, just like that. Like I’ve lost a part which had never belonged to me.
In its place is just light.
Straining against him, I capture his lips with mine. Before he comes with a hoarse cry, his pain mingling with mine.
When they come for us the next morning, I’m ready.
48
The female stalks into the room and looks at the two of them standing by the window on the far end. She’s petite, only as tall as Aria, and dressed in black skin-tight trousers and boots. A long white flannel shirt over which she wears an armored vest. On one side she’s hooked a gun, on the other a sword.
Jai’s sword.
When she had asked for it, Jai had handed it over.
He’d had no choice. Yet a part of him had been happy to be rid of it.
He would no longer have to take responsibility for being the Guardian of the city. He’d be free. Free to hold Aria and be with her.
Taking Aria’s hand in his, he squeezes it so tight she winces.
But she doesn’t let go, just brings her other palm over his, enclosing his larger hand between both of hers. One again he realizes how small and fragile she is. When he’d found her naked and bleeding and seen the large shifter bent over her, clearly aroused and with a sword held to her throat, he’d known then what he had to do.
And the way she’d looked at the shifter, the way she’d raised her chest towards him, he’d known that she was thinking of killing herself. And his rage had ignited.
It had swept through him, woken something up deep inside, a hunger, a fire, a need to kill so savage that it had surprised him in its intensity.
He hadn’t realized that he’d been capable of such depths of emotion. Had never before felt this surge of anger so sharp that it had blinded him to everything else. Hadn’t even been aware of his fierce need to protect what was his. But seeing her helpless had pushed aside all these barriers. Barriers he’d spent a lifetime building.
He had been hiding behind them so he didn’t have to feel again, didn’t have to feel the piercing emotion that had taken over when his mother died. When his sister had been kidnapped.
But now they were gone and he was free to be himself. Free to let the emotions take over. To follow his instinct. To avenge. He’d known there was no turning back. No more holding back.
He’d wanted to just let it rip and kill. To kill that animal.
He wanted it so much he could taste it.
Wanted it more than anything else in his life.
He can’t even recall closing the gap between him and the shifter. Except, the next instant the shifter had gone flying through the air. Thrust away from her, as far away as he could fling him.
Jai had raised his sword then, and for the first time he’d felt its power. A surge of quick, red-violet lightning had shot up his arm, straight to his heart, squeezing it with great intensity, making his blood pump so hard that he’d gasped. And that force had pulled him, drawn him across the space over the broken wall between the two cabins and he’d found his arm raised and clutching the sword.
He hadn’t hesitated. He had brought the sword down with such intensity that he’d severed the shifter's head with one swipe. And he’d felt nothing. Just emptiness. And a relief that Aria was safe.
Turning to her, he’d raised the sword and seen her flinch. And he’d known then that the unseen scars inside would be much more difficult to push away. A feeling of such tenderness had swept through him that his eyes had teared up. And he knew he was weeping for her, her lost innocence, his wasted years. For turning his back on what was so inherently a part of him that he’d not wanted to accept it.
It’s as if the power running through the sword has sparked off that sleeping, hidden part of him he’s tried to block out all his life. The wall that’s stopped him from sensing, from living, has gone.
And in its place is just him.
And it’s taken her, what he feels for her, to strip away the barriers he’s spent years building and perfecting. She’s connected him to the world again. And now those feelings rush out.
Love.
Desire.
A fierce need to protect what’s his.
A need to
take care of her.
A need to save his father and his city.
A need to honor the promise made to his dead mother.
And right then, he knows what he has to do.
Just as he knows now. Knows that he can’t let anyone come between him and the promise made to his mother.
Not even if she’s his long lost sister. The one holding his sword – their mother’s sword – in her hand.
His jaw hardens. The chords of his shoulder lock into place and anger flares inside. A different kind, almost a helplessness at what he must do.
Sensing the turmoil in him, Aria squeezes his palm even tighter, and her touch cuts a path through the darkness in his head.
The female takes a step towards them and Jai stiffens, pushing Aria even more securely behind him, making sure she’s completely shielded by his body.
"How chivalrous of you, dear brother," she drawls and behind him Aria starts.
"Maya," Jai rolls the word on his tongue as if he’s still getting used to the sound of it. As if he’s not pronounced her name in a long time.
Her eyes snap on to Jai’s and hold, golden brown clashing with amber. Her eyes are so like his father’s. So like his own.
She tilts her head, looking at him, trying to read him, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. The intensity on her face is disturbing.
She stares unblinking, waiting for him to say something. Then she bites her lip to hold back the words in her head. The gesture is so like Ruby. Like his mother.
Jai’s heart rams against this chest and the pulse thunders in his ears. If he’s had any doubt that she is his long-lost sister, it has just been dispelled.
"Maya," he says again, his voice softer.
He hesitates, unsure what he should do. What should he say?
‘The last time I saw you—’
"I’d been a young girl, just an eighteen-year-old with a foolish notion of finding my blood family."
"And did you?" he asks, his voice gentle as if speaking to a frightened child. Neither is aware that they’ve exchanged places in just a second.