Chapter Seven
The kiss hit Lana with the force of a lightning strike. Unexpected. Exhilarating. And far more powerful than it had any right to be.
She had assumed it would be good, but the feeling of his lips against hers was absolutely lethal to her senses.
It was so much more than she imagined. What she had conjured up in her fantasy was a pale shadow of the real thing.
His kiss was intoxicating like the finest wine, equally as dangerous and utterly addictive.
Her eyes fluttered shut as she savored the moment.
A rush of emotion swept through her, explosive and vibrant, like fireworks bursting across a midnight sky.
Every nerve in her body seemed to awaken at once, responding to his touch with alarming enthusiasm.
He was a force of nature, devastatingly alluring and completely overwhelming, and she had no choice but to surrender to the sensations he ignited within her.
A conflagration of need flared between them, fierce and undeniable, and it grew stronger with each passing second. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he lifted her until her body was pressed against his.
A startled breath escaped her as he slammed her back against the wall, but the sound was quickly muffled as his tongue delved between her parted lips.
He slid a hand behind her head to soften the impact, and his large body pressed against her, holding her in place.
Her tongue twined with his in an intimate dance, and she shivered as she felt the hard length of his erection pressing tight against the apex of her heated core.
The thin fabric of his prison clothes wasn’t much of a barrier, but her own uniform was made of sturdier material.
The thicker fabric dulled the sensation she desperately wanted, preventing her from truly feeling him against her.
She shifted instinctively, rubbing herself against him, and a soft, frustrated moan escaped her when it wasn’t enough.
She wanted more.
Not just another touch. Not just another kiss.
She wanted everything.
Lana wanted to feel his rough hands on her skin instead of through layers of clothing.
Wanted the freedom to trace every hard line and hidden scar on his body.
To learn him by touch, the same way she was already beginning to know him by instinct.
Every cell in her body seemed to respond to him, craving to be closer until they were fully merged.
One kiss would never be enough.
Not when it left her aching for another.
Not when every glance, every touch they shared between them only deepened the hunger growing inside her. There would be no sating the desperate need that had awakened between them.
This was only the beginning of them, and there would be no end.
Mordecai felt as though he were standing on the edge of madness. The pleasure coursing through him was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, intense and all-consuming.
With the way she had been looking at him, he had been unable to resist the urge to kiss her.
He’d wanted it. Hellfire, he’d wanted to kiss her more than he wanted his next breath, but he usually had better impulse control.
Especially when potential threats were close by.
He had known the first taste of her would be dangerously addicting.
What he hadn’t expected was for it to completely shatter his world.
One kiss changed his entire fucking life.
The instant their lips met, something inside him shifted. The carefully ordered life he had built for himself was suddenly knocked violently off balance. The connection that exploded between them was undeniable. It struck him with breathtaking force, leaving him reeling.
It was both terrifying and thrilling.
Despite the chaos raging inside him, he couldn’t stop wanting more. Kissing her made it clear there was no going back to the way things were. He was irrevocably changed.
One kiss was all it took for her to own him, body, heart, and soul.
Finding his mate was something had he always dreamed of, but never thought would actually happen. He knew the mating frenzy was pushing them to complete their bond, but destiny wasn’t forcing his hand.
What he felt for her was real, raw emotions.
Despite the barrier of her gloves and the layers of fabric between them, a powerful surge of magic erupted from her palm without warning.
It tore through every barrier as though they didn’t exist, shooting directly out of her and into his chest. She tried to pull away when he hissed in pain, but his hand clamped over hers, holding it in place.
He refused to break the connection between them even as another tremor of pain rippled through him.
The pain wasn’t coming from her magic marking him, though.
It was coming from the intense burning sensation on the back of his neck, right where the magical runes the prison had marked him with were.
Designed to work in conjunction with the safeguards to suppress his abilities, the runes recognized the foreign magic flooding into his body and reacted with violent resistance.
The sound of voices was a stark reminder that now was not the time or place for completing their mating bond.
Regretfully, he tore his lips away from hers and slipped a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.
She immediately removed her hand from his chest, and he was left feeling bereft from the loss of the connection.
He was literally shaking with his need for her, but he had to tamp it down and ignore it for now.
Her safety came first.
Always.
The rioting prisoners were still some distance away, their shouts and the clang of chaos echoing faintly through the corridors. However, Mordecai could clearly make out the low murmurs of the people who had been coming from the opposite direction now that they had gotten closer.
He pressed himself tighter against her, as if he could keep her safe simply by shielding her body with his own.
A light tap against his wrist pulled his attention back toward his mate.
She was staring up at him with narrowed eyes.
There was nothing subtle about the look she was giving him.
Slowly, she lifted a finger and pointed directly at the hand that was still firmly covering her mouth.
The gesture was unmistakably an order.
She obviously wasn’t very pleased with his chosen method for keeping her quiet. Despite the seriousness of their situation, Mordecai found himself wanting to smile. He arched a brow but didn’t remove his hand from over her mouth.
Not yet.
He leaned closer and held her gaze, making sure he had her full attention.
“Stay silent,” he mouthed carefully.
That command earned him an immediate eye roll.
Not a small one, either. She rolled her eyes with enough force to make it clear exactly how ridiculous she thought he was being.
Her audacity should have riled his temper.
Instead, it both amused and pleased him.
There they were, hiding from danger in a damaged prison while a riot raged nearby, and another potential threat was only a few feet away.
And yet, somehow her biggest concern at the moment was the insult of being shushed.
It was totally fucking absurd.
For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he found it impossible not to be charmed by her. Beautiful, haughty, and with far more courage than she should have in that hellhole, she really was a princess.
His princess.
Mordecai’s gaze held hers as the group of prisoners made their way down the dim hallway on the other side of the slab of concrete. Although she seemed to understand, he still had to hope that she would listen to him and remain quiet.
“Are they dead?”
“This one is,” a second male voice said.
“Marty is, too. I’ve wanted to get rid of this big bastard for ages. You think the shifters killed that guard?”
“Maybe. I guess that explosion did us a favor and took care of the rest of these assholes.”
“No, it looks like the guard died in the fall,” a different voice countered. “The other three…something else did that. What do you think, Thraxon?”
“Not something,” a lyrical voice corrected. “Someone.”
Mordecai stiffened. Part of the alliance of powerful inmates within the prison, Thraxon was someone who could be considered his equal within the established hierarchy.
Nothing much was known about the supernatural.
Not his age, his last name, or even what he’d done to get himself locked up.
He just appeared in the prison around a century ago, and now helped run things on the lower levels.
Thraxon was one of the few celestials being held inside the prison.
Normally, people from the Celestial Realm were judged by the laws established by the high gods who ruled over their realm.
They had their own reward and punishment system and rarely interacted with the other realms. Because of that, celestials only ended up in the Supernatural Prison if they committed some sort of major crime dealing with the other races.
Like the guy Death had ripped the soul out of earlier.
Thraxon was much more personable than Mordecai. Even so, he had a wicked temper when pushed too far. Other prisoners had learned to respect his limits and avoid pissing him off. Mordecai never had any conflicts with him, but he was one of the few individuals he hoped he never had to face off with.
There was a brief pause, then the first male spoke again. “Hey, wasn’t there a storage closet around here or something?”
Rather than answering his question, Thraxon said, “All of you should go on ahead. Warn the others if they don’t calm down by the time I get there, I will be very displeased.”
“Sure thing, Thrax.”
There was a clattering of footsteps as a group of people hurried away. The silence following didn’t fool Mordecai, though. He was certain someone was still standing on the other side of the large slab of concrete.