Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Darkness. Rattling chains. Can’t move. No—
Race’s eyes snapped open, his heart threatening to explode, but only darkness surrounded him.
Someone pressed against him. He grabbed the person to shove them away but encountered warm, silken skin and a scent that pulled him back, like sunlight after a storm.
Ash.
Embers sputtered, hauling him to where he was. Inside the cavern.
Dammit, he’d shifted back to his human form. And he slept. Again.
He scrubbed his face, the ghosts of chains and screams clawing in the recesses of his mind—the nightmares waiting to drag him back to Tartarus.
With deep, measured breaths, he forced his heart to steady as he stared at the hole in the ceiling.
All that mattered was getting Ash to Michael. The Resistance could burn. He wanted nothing to do with this life again—not when his own blood had betrayed him.
But while here, if they crossed his path, vengeance would be his—
A soft sigh cracked through the red haze in his mind, hauling him back to the present.
Ash snuggled closer, her head resting on his biceps, her hand splayed, warm and soothing, over his chest. From this angle, he could only see the curve of her brow, the sweep of long lashes shadowing one gilded-brown cheek he longed to trail his lips over.
Hell, these thoughts weren’t helping his damn situation, with his cock so damn hard and uncomfortable. He should get up, pretend distance would save him.
She shifted, and her lips settled in the hollow of his neck. “You smell wonderful,” she whispered. “So warm.”
His body grew too tight, the temptation too strong. Yet, moving away from her felt like a fate worse than death. “Smoke and sweat?” he rumbled. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
He could almost feel her smile. Then, because he’d clearly lost the last functioning gray cell he possessed, he traced his thumb over the curve of her cheek.
She grasped his hand and held it there, her eyes bright with the same desire consuming him. “Race?”
Hell, this was too godsdamn dangerous.
He shook his head, climbed to his feet with her in his arms, and crossed to the dying fire to set her on her coat. He straightened, raking both hands through his hair as he moved away, only then aware he was naked.
Shit. He conjured pants and pulled them on.
Go back, his dragon growled.
No. He was already at war with himself—he didn’t need his dragon on his damn ass as well.
“Race?” Ash sat up, pushing back her hair from her face. “What’s wrong?”
“If I keep touching you,” he bit out, fighting the need blazing under his skin, “there’ll be no stopping.”
“You make it sound like a bad thing.” Her gaze followed him as he paced near the pit. “You want me, and you know I feel the same.”
Why couldn’t he have been something different, without all his baggage? Then he would fuck her until this burning need was sated. Even as the thought formed, he knew no amount of time would be enough to burn this lust out of him—
Because she’s our mate, his dragon retorted.
His damn beast had tunnel vision when it came to Ash. She’ll die, Kaelthar!
“That would be a bad thing. For you,” he growled, retying his loosened hair.
“You just saved me twice in one day,” she murmured. “Maybe let me decide what’s bad for me?”
A huff, almost a laugh, escaped him. Of course, this tiny Storm Summoner would dare to challenge a millennia-old creature.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “The walls you keep up. The rage underneath. I know what it’s like to carry those.”
It took everything not to flinch.
He hunkered near the firepit, pushing the thicker logs to the center, trying not to look at her sleep-messed hair, rosy cheeks, and slumberous light eyes that saw far too much—
By the Fates, she would be his undoing.
“Sleep. Morning will be here soon. We have a portal to try and get through.”
“I know that.” She patted the spot beside her, a wry smile on her tempting mouth, the one he yearned to possess again. “Come, lie down. Brooding won’t make the sun rise any faster. And there’s still a bit of a draft, even with the fire burning.” She pointed up with a little grimace. “That hole…”
Race glanced at the aperture in the ceiling, stealing what little warmth the fire gave. Hell, he was losing his damn mind. She wasn’t trying to seduce him—she needed warmth.
“Very well.” He crossed to her and lay down behind her, slipping one arm over her. She was all warmth and silken skin against him.
Ash shivered, her chilled fingers clutching his forearm closer to her chest. She stroked his wrist slowly, then her caressing fingers slowed, and within a few heartbeats, her breathing evened out.
Race shut his eyes, but his senses stayed sharp, tracking the darkness surrounding them.
He had no idea how much time passed, only aware of her warmth against him, her body fitting too perfectly, twisting his into knots. His cock was one big, inevitable ache.
Godsdamn, I need a breather. Carefully, he eased away—
She turned, her lashes fluttering open, freezing him in place.
Then her fingers brushed his jaw, soft, hesitant, before she rose just enough to press her lips to his.
His control shattered. Centuries of restraint breaking loose in a single breath.
With one hand fisting in her hair, he claimed her mouth, kissing her with a hunger honed by eons of denial.
She stroked her palms over his chest, and he dragged his other hand beneath her tank, heat flooding his veins at the feel of her bare belly. She arched into him, her musky arousal flooding his senses, sinking into his blood.
He groaned, his fingers squeezing her breast, his thumb flicking the stiff peak until her whimper fisted him by the balls. He pressed open-mouthed kisses down along her jaw, her chin, and her throat, his tongue sweeping across and tasting her skin—
Mark, his dragon growled. Ours.
For hell’s sake, just one damn moment without demands.
Lust roared as heat consumed him. His fangs ached, desperate to pierce, to claim—
Race froze, horror constricting him. He could kill her if he sank his fangs into her and released his mating venom.
Ash blinked up at him, sweeping her palms over his back, her eyes heavy with desire. “What is it?”
He surged to his feet and paced, every inch of him searing hot, as if a fever had taken hold. Several deep breaths, and nothing worked to calm him.
What the hell should he say to her?
The truth, his dragon rumbled. You are in heat, and you want her.
I’m not in fucking heat. It’s just been too damn long since—
Have you forgotten who you are?
Race froze, the truth hitting him like an anvil to the head. Dammit! He had to get the fuck away from her. But he just stood there and scrubbed his face.
When he dared to face her again, where she sat on the opposite side of the fire, disappointment had dulled the glow in her eyes.
Fuck! “Ash, look, I like you. But you and me, we can’t—”
Not that, his dragon growled.
“Stop right there.” Her palms flashed. The brittle smile on her beautiful face hurt more than a blow to the solar plexus.
“Honestly, I get it. I wasn’t angling for forever.
Just a moment to forget that dragons want me roasted.
A good shag seemed the perfect distraction.
” She shrugged, half-cheeky, half-dismissive. “So, don’t worry about it, yeah?”
How the hell did she flatten the quake in his chest with one damn quip?
But her casual tone hit harder because she was right. They couldn’t have forever. They couldn’t even have one second.
“As you wish.” He grabbed his clothes from where he’d dropped them on the rock, tore off the conjured cotton pants, and pulled on the rough leather ones, followed by the rest of his clothes and his boots.
Doing something kept his claws sheathed, kept him from reaching for her again. Better to want nothing than to want what could destroy her. The knowledge settled like cold embers inside him.
Ignoring his beast, he gave her a curt nod and strode for the entrance.
The fire popped behind him, as empty as a dying dream.
Disappointment hit Ash hard as she watched Race, fully dressed, stalk from the cave. With a shaky hand, she touched her kiss-swollen lips.
Sure, she’d joked about a tumble. God knew she’d have welcomed it. The man was a walking furnace of temptation.
For the hundredth time, she wondered what it was about him that drew her so deeply. Not even Paul had affected her this way, and she’d loved him—or thought she had. She didn’t want another entanglement after that disaster, and yet here she was, teetering on the edge of one.
For her own sanity, she had to keep her distance. But how, when the whole world had shrunk to a ruined cave and their two bodies gravitating toward each other like magnets?
Blowing out a weary breath, Ash fed the last of their wood to the dying embers. She glanced at the kebab parcel. Heck, even food wasn’t simple. It had been sitting out for a while.
A quick sniff—
No, not funky. Who knew when she’d get to eat again in this terrifying place?
She unwrapped the parcel and held a skewer over the flames, letting the mundane task steady her when raised voices erupted outside.
Bloody hell. Are they rearranging each other’s faces again?
Skewer clenched between her teeth, she shoved into her jacket, shouldered her backpack, and grabbed the meat stick again as she sprinted for the entrance.
“…those damn mines!” Skaldr snarled as she stepped into the chilly, misty gray morning. “And you won’t—”
He broke off when he saw her.
Tension coiled around the men like a taut spring. Race’s gaze flicked to her, lingering for just a breath before sliding away, his shutters in place. He jammed his clenched hands into his trouser pockets. The distance between them hit harder than she expected.
The clearing crackled with unspoken threats.