Chapter 25 Luna
Chapter twenty-five
Luna
A sudden tremor sent ancient dust cascading from the ceiling as we hurried through the narrow tunnel. The entire crypt seemed to respond to the removal of the Shadow Fang piece, vibrations rippling through the stone around us.
“This crypt could collapse on top of us any second,” Damien said, placing his hand at my back and guiding me forward .
A second, stronger tremor shook loose small fragments of rock. All around us, the sound of rapid footsteps and urgent voices grew louder.
“Marcel’s getting closer,” I said through clenched teeth. “Is he behind us or in front of us?”
Damien tilted his head, his heightened senses clearly working overtime. “I can’t tell. The source keeps bouncing around.”
We emerged into a wider chamber just as Marcel and his team appeared at the opposite entrance, their flashlights cutting through the dusty air. Marcel’s eyes locked onto mine, his expression hardening.
“Give me the Shadow Fang piece,” Marcel demanded.
“Never going to happen,” I fired back.
Larger chunks of stone began to fall around us. His mercenaries backed toward where they’d come from, self-preservation overriding their loyalty.
Marcel drew a gun, aimed, and cocked it in one fluid motion. “Don’t make me say it again.”
With a menacing growl that seemed to vibrate through the very stones beneath our feet, Damien moved. The motion was so swift and fluid it barely registered before he had positioned himself right in front of Marcel.
In one lightning-fast motion, he grabbed Marcel’s gun away from him.
“You leave Luna to die in a collapsing tomb,” Damien growled, his voice full of violence, “then I leave you to die in a collapsing tomb.”
He clocked Marcel over the head with his gun, and Marcel crumbled into a boneless pile.
Then Damien turned, grabbed my elbow, and hauled me back down the narrow corridor we’d come through at a sprint.
“You’re not going to stick your straw in him?” I asked.
“Not when this place is coming down around us,” he shouted as a stronger tremor shook the chamber.
I darted into another passage with Damien close behind. The corridor was barely wide enough for us to move single file, its ceiling so low that Damien had to stoop. Unlike the main ceremonial passages, this tunnel appeared cruder, more utilitarian.
A violent shockwave rippled through the passage, strong enough to throw me against the wall. Sharp pain lanced through my shoulder at the impact.
Dust and small debris rained down around us. Damien steadied me with one hand while the other pressed against the ceiling. His arm tensed, his muscles straining against the fabric of his torn shirt as he braced the stone. A spiderweb of cracks spread above our heads.
“We need to move faster,” he said through clenched teeth. “Right after I remove my hand. Ready?”
I nodded and gulped loudly. We were fast, but were we fast enough to escape a ceiling cave-in?
Slowly, his wide gaze locked on mine, Damien removed his hand. In that brief moment before we ran, I caught something in his eyes I’d never seen before—genuine fear. Not for himself, but for me.
We hauled ass out of there.
The tunnel began to slope steeply upward, making our ascent difficult as the tremors intensified. My lungs burned with each breath, the air growing thick with dust that coated my throat and stung my eyes. Despite the adrenaline fueling me, I struggled to maintain our pace.
Damien noticed my faltering steps instantly. Without breaking stride, he gripped my waist with one arm and began pushing me up the incline.
Under normal circumstances, I might have objected to being manhandled, but survival trumped pride. I focused on moving my legs as quickly as possible, letting Damien’s supernatural strength, though drained, supplement my failing energy.
A violent tremor sent a section of the ceiling crashing down mere feet behind us, the impact reverberating through the narrow space. I glanced back to see that the passage was now completely blocked. No chance of Marcel’s mercs following, but also no retreat possible for us.
“Almost there,” Damien said.
Though I couldn’t see shit through the darkness and dust, the sound of his certainty gave me something to hold on to.
The Shadow Fang piece began to emit a strange warmth from its container in my hands, pulsing in what felt like a response to my racing heartbeat. With each pulse came a momentary surge of energy through my limbs, as if the artifact itself was lending me strength to escape with it.
“Do you feel that?” I panted out.
“The artifact’s resonance? Yes,” he said, not at all breathless like me. “It’s like it’s responding to your physical state, like a sympathetic energy connection. Try to channel it.”
I had no idea how to “channel” an ancient magical artifact, but I’d try anything once.
Focusing on the warm pulses, I imagined the energy flowing more fully into my muscles, synchronizing with my movements.
Whether through actual magic or the power of suggestion, my steps became surer, my breathing less labored.
“That’s it,” Damien said, his voice a low rumble against my back. “You’re doing it.”
Ahead, a faint glow of natural light penetrated the dusty air. An exit, tantalizingly close yet still too far. A massive tremor, stronger than any before, shook the entire passage. Larger stones began to fall around us as the structural integrity finally gave way.
“We’re not going to make it at this pace,” Damien said, a new intensity in his voice. “Luna, hold on tight.”
Without further warning, he swept me into his arms and launched forward with vampire speed, moving so fast that the world blurred around us. The sudden acceleration pressed me against his chest, his natural cedar and winter winds scent mingling with the earthy smell of the collapsing tunnel.
We burst through the exit just as the tunnel disintegrated behind us, emerging into the humid jungle air with such momentum that Damien couldn’t halt our forward trajectory.
He twisted in mid-air, somehow managing to turn so that when we tumbled together down a short embankment covered in moss and ferns, he took the brunt of the impact, shielding me with his body until we came to rest in a small clearing.
The ground continued to tremble beneath us as the underground complex collapsed even more, sending up a massive plume of dust and debris through crevices in the jungle floor.
Trees swayed dangerously, birds took flight in panicked flocks, and distant howls suggested other jungle residents were shaking their figurative fists at us.
I found myself in Damien’s arms, the Shadow Fang piece caught between us in the container, still pulsing with that strange energy.
His face hovered inches below mine, his eyes wide with an emotion I couldn’t quite identify—relief, perhaps, or something more complex.
A smudge of dirt marked his cheek, and a small cut above his eyebrow healed before my eyes.
This close, I could see the shadows behind his blue eyes, the haunted ones of someone who had seen too much, felt too much, and learned to guard himself against the weight of it all. But the longer he stared at me, the more those shadows receded.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice rough with concern.
“No,” I managed to say, suddenly aware of how close we were, how his arms still encircled me. “You?”
After a brief hesitation, he said, “Nothing that won’t heal.”
Something electric passed between us—an acknowledgment of what we’d accomplished, of the danger we’d faced together and survived. The Shadow Fang piece pulsed more intensely between us, its rhythm matching the accelerating beat of my pulse.
In the space between heartbeats, the electric charge between us snapped into something primal. Our mouths crashed together, all teeth and tongue and desperate hunger. He tasted like mountain air and something darkly sweet.
His hands were already under my shirt, his rough palms scraping over my ribs, making me moan into his mouth. I yanked at his belt buckle, my fingers fumbling.
“Fuck, Luna,” he growled, his voice shredded.
He ripped my shirt open, buttons flying, as he sat up with me straddling him.
Cool air hit my skin, then the heat of his mouth on my nipple.
I cried out, arching against him, my fingers finding the hard length of him straining against his pants.
I palmed his cock through the fabric, thick and pulsing insistently.
He groaned, the vibration against my breast sending sparks straight between my legs.
His hand shoved my pants and underwear down my hips. I kicked them off, barely registering the tear of fabric. His fingers slid between my legs, finding me soaked.
“You’re dripping wet,” he rasped.
Two fingers plunged into my pussy, curling just right. Moaning, I buried my face in his shoulder and thrust my hips hard, riding his hand, while fighting with his zipper.
“I need you inside me,” I demanded, my voice raw.
He speared his fingers through my hair and pulled so I’d look at him, and the fiery look he gave me made me throb. Then he shoved his pants down just enough, his cock springing free—long, thick, veins pulsing.
Beautiful.
I guided him to my entrance, and the blunt head pressed against me, stretching me deliciously. I sank down in one hard, deep slide, taking him to the hilt. We both gasped, a sharp, shared intake of breath.
“Tight,” he gritted out, his hands clamping on my hips. “So fucking tight.”
I started moving, riding him fast and hard, chasing the friction. Chasing the release and the adrenaline and my forbidden desire for him to fuck me senseless in the middle of a deadly jungle. His cock filled me perfectly, hitting that deep spot with every upward thrust of his hips.
I gasped, digging my nails into his shoulders. “Yes, Damien. Harder.”
He obliged, slamming up into me, the force driving cries from my throat. His lips captured mine again, and he hooked one hand over the back of my shoulder to drive me down on him even faster. His other hand roamed my body, cupping my breasts, thumbing my nipples into stiff, aching peaks.
Somehow, the strap for the container with the Shadow Fang piece had slung over my back, and now it hummed against my spine.
Below us, the earth still quaked with the crypt’s collapse.
These two sensations, coupled with Damien ravaging my body, lifted me impossibly higher, ensuring a dramatic, powerful fall.
“Come for me,” he commanded. “Let me feel you shatter.”
His thumb found my clit, rubbing rough, relentless circles. Pleasure coiled, tight and urgent.
My pussy clenched around him, wave after wave of pure, blinding ecstasy tearing through me from the deepest part of my core.
I screamed his name, my body shuddering uncontrollably.
He followed, his hips jerking up, driving deep as his cock pulsed inside me.
He groaned, a raw, guttural sound that echoed my own pleasure.
He looked damn good as he came, his face relaxed from all tension, the chips of ice in his blue eyes melted into molten heat.
We held each other tightly, riding out the shockwaves of pleasure. There was something almost reverent in the way he touched me afterward, like someone who had found something precious.
Our bodies still joined, his hips still twitching up into me, he cradled the back of my neck and teased his tongue over my lower lip. “If anything had happened to you back there...”
“I know. I thought the same thing about you,” I admitted, sighing into his kiss.
I didn’t know why or how or when, but somewhere along our short partnership, I’d started to fall for Damien.
A vampire. My mortal enemy I couldn’t stop thinking or worrying about.
This wasn’t part of the plan, and it definitely complicated everything about our mission, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I kissed him deeper, unable to voice that out loud or associate words to all of my feelings. He responded with unmistakable fervor, tangling his hands in my hair and pulling me closer. I felt his kiss everywhere, but especially in my needy pussy where he was thickening inside me once again.
Reality reasserted itself with the distant sound of voices.
“We should move,” he said, though he made no immediate effort to do so.
“Uh-huh,” I murmured, tasting his addictively plump lower lip.
The voices grew closer, breaking the spell. Still kissing me, Damien rose from the ground, his palms on my bare ass to support me. Only then did he reluctantly pull out and set me on my feet.
“Let’s get some distance from Marcel’s team and find a secure position for the night,” he said, tucking himself back into his pants.
The shift back to practical matters was almost a relief, giving me something concrete to focus on besides the lingering sensation of his kiss, his hands, my orgasm, and the pleasant soreness between my legs. I dressed quickly, hyperaware of the brightness in his gaze as he followed my every move.
After we triple-checked that we had our supplies and the Shadow Fang piece, we took off as swiftly as we dared through the dense vegetation.
I caught him staring several times, probably because I was staring, too, and when our hands brushed, the resulting explosion of sparks made me forget how to breathe.
Between one step and the next, I found myself replaying what had just happened between us, analyzing it with an intensity usually reserved for ancient texts or treasure maps, wondering if it had affected Damien with the same bewildering force.
Maybe we should do it again, right here, just to be sure it really happened.
The idea made me flush all over and grin at the same time.
“Are you all right?” Damien asked.
“Yeah. Just thinking,” I said, fanning myself.
His soft “Hmm” carried a note of amusement that suggested he knew exactly what I was thinking, maybe because he was thinking the same thing.
Then he reached out and took my hand, his engagement ring flashing, his fingers intertwining with mine in a gesture that somehow felt more intimate than everything we’d just done.
And all I could do was smile so hard my cheeks hurt.