Untamed, page 2
She may not have had a whole lot of experience, but she was pretty sure sex with bile breath and sweaty pits was where intimacy went to die.
His body tensed under her gaze, and he almost seemed to shift forward before he froze, balling his fists at his sides. He glared, looking like he wanted nothing more than to thoroughly kick her ass, but the thick, earthy scent coming off him told a very different story.
“Since you’re so keen on using your abilities today, I suppose we’ll start your meditation early,” he said, practically spitting the words through gritted teeth.
She cringed. Great. She hated practicing with her power. Not because she actively disliked it or anything, but because she genuinely sucked at it.
Since boarding his wretched ship—apart from the first few days when she puked more than she breathed—Jaren had demanded she spar with him each morning and meditate each afternoon.
The sparring she didn’t mind, even though it often made her nausea worse and ended with her sprawled on the deck wanting to claw his eyes out. She’d always enjoyed pushing herself physically and knew there was much she could learn from him.
If only he’d lay off the damn meditation.
They’d agreed not to tap into their abilities during their bouts for a few reasons. The main one being that she had zero control over how much power she used, and the second being that Jaren didn’t want her exhausting her reserve.
It was the only thing keeping her breakfast in her belly these days, and even that was a struggle. She could caress it like she’d just done with no problem, but she couldn’t successfully, and consistently, focus it on any one specific thing.
Experienced Magyki could enhance singular skills like sight or hearing, but her entire body always seemed to turn into a damn beacon. It was hard. Really fucking hard.
The best she’d done was figure out how to heal minor wounds and her seasickness when needed, but even that didn’t always work out. The last time she’d attempted it, Jaren had made some offhand remark about her posture and technique, and her flash of anger had fractured her control.
She’d pulled so much up that she’d healed her entire body. Sickness, bruises, sore muscles, all of it. Instead of praising her, or apologizing for being an ass, or literally anything a good teacher would’ve done, he’d scolded her even more, accusing her of being more of a pampered princess than a warrior.
Of course, she’d responded by punching him in the gut. He’d deserved it. Granted, she’d regretted it a little when she’d nearly sent him overboard, but he’d shut his mouth afterward.
Now, she’d give anything to see him topple over the side. He’d be fine. The asshole knew how to swim.
Ignoring the expectant weight of his gaze, she looked out at the endless expanse of the Dividing Sea surrounding them. The power she’d accessed back on Aleron seemed like a lifetime ago. Like something she’d only imagined.
If she was being honest with herself, everything that’d happened since she’d grabbed a sword and sparred Eithan in the training yard seemed like it’d happened to someone else.
She turned toward the stern and squinted into the distance. The coast of Aleron had disappeared long ago, filling her sight with nothing but rippling blue as far as her eyes could see.
It still didn’t seem real to be gone. To be heading somewhere where she wouldn’t have to hide. Somewhere that would value her for what she could do instead of stone her for it. It was just as exciting as it was terrifying.
“Sit.”
The gruff order was accompanied by the snapping of fingers, and Vera’s head whipped back, her mouth popping open. He did not just command her like a fucking dog.
When he answered her unspoken outrage with only a silent raise of his brow, she immediately darted her gaze around, looking for anything she could launch at his face. How this insufferable male could be her soul-bonded mate was baffling.
She was two seconds from removing a boot and sending it between his eyes when he tipped his head back and released a deep, rumbling laugh. The surprising sound wrapped around her, freezing her in place and snuffing out her irritation like it’d never existed.
She stared along the curve of his neck, latching on to the sound like an emotionally starved woman. And maybe she was. Things like laughter and joy were rare with him. It made him seem younger, less beaten and worn down by the world.
His smile widened farther at her obvious shock, and her body heated. Sometimes it was easy to forget that he wasn’t just another human man, especially since his hair now completely covered his ears, and he never used his abilities.
But there was no denying it when his smile revealed two sharp canines. Canines that had punctured her shoulder while his hand had been buried in her trousers, making her climax harder than she’d ever thought possible.
He’d claimed her, marking her possessively without a single hint of regret. She licked her lips, subconsciously lifting her hand to run her fingers along her clothed shoulder.
Jaren’s laughter cut off, and he straightened, his nostrils flaring as his eyes zeroed in on her hand. She dropped her arm like her shoulder was on fire, not wanting to draw his attention to what was there.
Or rather, what was supposed to be there.
“Fine,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t give her away as she moved to where he’d indicated and lowered herself to the deck. “But next time, use common courtesy and ask nicely.”
“Says the female who was raised by a Weapons’ Master but who still cheated during a bout,” he said, positioning himself to stand in front of her.
With the way he looked, she’d be convinced he was completely unbothered by their exchange if it weren’t for the dark promise swirling in his eyes.
He cracked his neck. “Thyabathi zhe be.”
“Nlayi,” she agreed.
He’d demanded during their first practice that she only use Thyabathi when practicing her abilities to become more comfortable with it. He’d warned that although most Magyki knew both languages, very few used the common tongue.
She hadn’t argued. She remembered enough of her native tongue to communicate the basics, but the more practice she could squeeze in, the better. It was like stretching a muscle. She knew how to stretch it, but it’d take time and practice to get it loose and natural again.
She was already going to be judged for living in the Matherin Capital, she didn’t need another reason to stand out.
Jaren released a sound that might’ve been a sigh, had he not sounded like an angry bear as he made it. “You’re not trying.”
“Yes, I am.”
She hunched over her crossed legs, dragging her hands down her face, and wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep. Why did tapping into her abilities make her so gods damn tired?
He crouched down to her level and rested his arms over his bent knees. “You honed your power just fine on Aleron. What’s different now?”
“I don’t know,” she said, whining more to herself than him. She dropped her hands to the deck, running her fingers along the wood and letting the edges of splinters scrape against her skin. “I’m not sure how I did it then. It just kind of happened.”
“Replay the moment,” he pressed. “Go through each of your senses one by one and tell me what was happening. What you felt.”
Despite her exhaustion, she listened and closed her eyes, forcing herself to go back to that day. How the warm wind felt against her back as they left Midpath, the smell of Jaren that still lingered on her body, the rush of excitement for the future, and then the foreboding sound of hooves charging toward them.
She remembered her shock at seeing Eithan out of Matherin and her horror at what he’d said. Remembered the sadness in Trey’s eyes and the hatred in Hayes’s. But more than anything, she remembered the exact moment Hayes’s arrow had pierced Jaren’s body.
Vera’s muscles tensed at the memory, and her teeth ground together as she clenched her jaw. She swore she could still feel the residual sting of the wound and the burn in her throat as she’d screamed.
Her fear had been a thick, tangible thing, and she’d plummeted straight into that roiling storm inside her, strengthening her legs to lunge hard and fast. There’d been no thought, no plan, just her naked desperation to save him.
But then she’d been struck herself, forced to watch while Hayes held a sword to Jaren. And then suddenly she wasn’t seeing Aleron anymore, and it wasn’t Hayes holding the blade to her mate, but a stranger.
She sucked in a shaky breath, taking in Jaren’s smell and reminding herself that he was here, with her. There was no Hayes and no arrow. They were both alive and unharmed.
“You,” she said, frowning. “I remembered you.”
His fingers twitched, and he curled them in, clutching his knees. “What do you mean?”
“Not as you are now, but as a child. It could’ve been my mind playing tricks on me, but it felt real. You were lying in a hallway, and a man—maybe a Magyki, I’m not sure—held a blade to your chest.”
She looked up, locking eyes with his now slightly widened ones. “You were reaching for me. I could feel your terror, or maybe it was mine, I don’t know. All I remember is when it faded from my mind, something snapped. I didn’t feel like me anymore.”
He swallowed, pain flickering in the green of his eyes before he blinked it away. “Anger and fear are powerful emotions that work well for accessing your ability when absolutely necessary, but they’re a crutch. You must mold it to your will without them.”
“I understand that,” she quipped. “You asked me what I’d felt in that moment, and I told you. What I need now from you, my teacher, is to teach me how to do it differently.”
His jaw ticked. “It’s an innate reaction; it’s not something I can teach you. You have to feel it and direct it where you want it to go. It answers to you, not the other way around.”
“I do direct it.”
“Not enough. You have immense power, Veralie. You moved faster than the speed of a fucking arrow. It’s there. You’re just second-guessing yourself.”
She blew out a breath, flicking stray curls from her face. “Why is it so important I learn this before we get there anyway?”
“So you can defend yourself with more than just a sword. Your mother died, Veralie. As you almost did the last time you were there.”
“Yes, but the rebellion’s over. It’s been over for nearly fifteen years. You said so, yourself.”
He straightened his legs, towering over her. “I trust no one with your safety, little star. You are the Daughter to the Throne. There will always be a risk of danger. I’ll take no chances. Now close your eyes and try again.”
JAREN
He’d been trained for years to withstand a multitude of horrific scenarios, no matter the level of pain. The risks he’d taken on his scouting trips to Aleron had required it. Humans may have been weaker, but if enough pebbles balanced on a mountain, they’d eventually cause a rockslide.
He’d never been arrogant enough to believe there was no risk of capture when he was always vastly outnumbered, which was why he’d taught himself long ago to shut out his emotions. He needed to be capable of staying clearheaded no matter what happened to, or around, him.
Then she appeared. Gods, that fucking mouth on her. Sometimes he truly wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss it or sew it shut.
The last week had been a torture like nothing he’d ever prepared for. Seeing her every time he opened his eyes until the moment he closed them, feeling her every time he breathed, smelling her, wanting her. Fuck. It was maddening.
A throat cleared. “Do you mind?”
His lips twitched, but he somehow fought back his smile, watching her muscles shift as she wiped sweat off her skin from the afternoon bout she’d demanded after her meditation.
“Not at all, little star. Carry on.”
Her heart picked up speed, and her cheeks warmed, turning a delicious shade of pink that always drove him fucking insane.
Kiss it. He definitely wanted to kiss that foul mouth. To nibble at her bottom lip and pull it into his mouth, forcing her to open for him. He imagined the feel of her hair wrapped around his fist as he positioned her exactly where he wanted, exploring and tasting at his leisure.
And he wouldn’t stop there.
Across the deck, his mate stumbled, clenching the cloth she’d been using in a death grip. Her flush deepened, and his chest rumbled in answer.
He loved that she could feel his raging desire. Loved that every time he was hard for her, she knew it without even setting eyes on him. But most of all, he fucking loved how much it affected her.
Gods, they needed off this vessel. Almost against his will, he shifted toward her, and she sucked in sharply, flicking her eyes to his trousers and biting that gods damn full lip.
Maybe he wouldn’t wait until they were off. He knew their less-than-ideal bathing situation bothered her, but he, for one, couldn’t care less if it meant she’d be writhing beneath him.
She made a choking sound and pressed a hand to her chest, taking a step back. “Is there a way to…block this?”
Like a wave smashing against a lone ember, his desire stuttered out, and he froze. A heaviness settled between them, and his fingers spasmed at his sides. “Be very careful what you say next, little star. Block what, exactly?”
She tossed her washrag to the deck, squaring her shoulders and standing tall like she was readying for a storm. And maybe she was, because depending on what exited her mouth next, he might just bring one down on her.
“This bridge, or whatever, between us that feeds our emotions to each other all the time. Is there a way to…not do that?”
He gritted his teeth, taking several more steps toward her. If she thought she was going to reject him, she was going to be painfully fucking disappointed. “You accepted our bond.”
“I know. That’s not what I meant. I only meant—”
Before she could finish whatever excuse she’d conjured up, he lunged. Gripping her hip with one hand, he wrapped his other around the column of her throat, pulling her flush against him and snarling down at her.
“Try to shut me out, Veralie. I’ll burrow so fucking deep under your skin, you’ll have to carve me out.”
She encircled his wrist with both of her hands, her callouses scraping his skin as she squeezed. “I’m not rejecting our bond, Jaren. I’m just not sure how I feel about the lack of privacy. I’m struggling enough with my own emotions without adding yours to the mix.”
He shook his head, her explanation doing nothing to calm him. “We are mates. Our bond exists for that exact purpose. So that I may anticipate your needs and see to it that they are met.”
“Open, honest communication can do that too,” she snapped.
He moved his hand higher, spreading his fingers around her jaw and tilting her head back. “I want to feel you, Veralie. All the time. In everything I do. It feeds me in a way I cannot describe.”
Her expression softened, and she released her grip on his wrist, caressing her thumb along his skin. “It’s just a lot, Jaren. Sometimes I can’t separate how I feel with how you feel. It’s confusing.”
He inhaled through his nose, saturating his senses with her star-fire scent and trying to calm the roar in his veins. “I don’t know of a way to block our connection without rejecting the bond. If any mated pair has discovered a way, they have not made it known,” he ground out.
Her brow furrowed. “I wonder if that’s why some Magyki reject it in the first place. Maybe it’s not that they’re against having a mate, maybe they just don’t want the intrusion of it.”
He dug his fingers into her hip, lowering his face until it hovered just above her own. “You have no idea how intrusive I can be. Tempt me, little star. I will intrude inside your body until we are one and the same. Until you can’t tell where I start and you end.”
He ran his nose along her jaw, watching gooseflesh pebble down her neck as he whispered in her ear. “You think our emotions are mixed now? I’ll meld them together until you can’t tell the difference between your pleasure and mine. I’ll forge our bond into gods damn steel.”
Her throat bobbed, and her heart picked up until it was a thrumming beat beside his own. “You’re a lot more possessive than I anticipated,” she breathed, pressing closer to him.
He grinned, drinking in the quick flare of arousal that rolled off her in response to his touch. “You have no idea.”
And she didn’t. Not yet.
The moment the Daughter to the Throne stepped foot on Bhasura, unmated Magyki everywhere would flock to her like starving beasts, desperate to sink their teeth in and lay claim to both her body and her title.
His anger flared, tempting him to mark her again right then and there. Somewhere it could be clearly seen so if anyone so much as thought about taking her, he’d be well within his right to rip out their fucking spines.
He positioned his mouth over the curve of her neck, his jaw aching with the need to clamp it around the tender spot. But something over her shoulder caught his eye, and he lifted his face, enhancing his sight to see out across the water.
Sighing, he released his hold on her throat and gripped her hips, twisting her body so her back was flush against him.
“Consider yourself lucky, little star,” he murmured, pointing toward the emerging coastline. “We’re home.”
Chapter 2
TREY
Blood fell to the floor in a steady beat.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
He watched each drop fall, rippling the growing puddle. If he tried hard enough, he could probably force his toes to wade through it, pushing it around the rough, dirty stones like paint.
In his delirious state, he was tempted to write out, I missed you in it. With his impaired vision and pounding head, it’d be impossible to write the message legibly, but damn, it’d almost be worth it just to see the bastard’s reaction.
