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Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes
Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes

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Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2019
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Hmm. Very odd. Another unhappy one. What was wrong with these surface females?

His moonbeam quieted and stilled at last.

“Do you know who I am?” Valerian asked, using her language, his tone gentle. Recognize me. He sheathed his sword.

“What do you want with us?” she demanded a second time, ignoring his question.

“I want nothing to do with the others,” he replied honestly. “My soldiers have issued invitations to the single females to come and live with us. Invitations that are being accepted, as you can see.”

She gaped at him. “Only because you’ve somehow drugged them.”

“The only thing we’ve done...is breathe.”

“And what do you mean, live with you?” she continued. “Live with you where?”

“Under the sea.”

“The sea,” she echoed. She licked her bottom lip, the sight of her tongue nearly unmanning him. “You’re lying.”

“I will never lie to you.”

Now confusion knitted her brows. “You sound so sure, so determined.”

“I am.”

“You don’t even know me, and I certainly don’t want to know you. After I pick you out of a police lineup, I hope to never see you again.”

She had no desire to accompany him. The realization dumbfounded him.

My mate would rather live her life without me.

No. No! His sudden appearance had shocked her. She just needed time. With him. With his pheromone.

Time she would one day thank him for giving her.

“You’re not going to like what happens next,” Valerian told her. “I apologize for that.” He gently lifted her in his arms. The side of her body pressed against his chest, and everywhere their skin touched, he burned.

Unable to resist, he burrowed his nose in the hollow of her neck, breathing in her delectable fragrance while relishing the softness of her pale skin.

“Are you sniffing me?” she demanded.

“Yes. Would you like to sniff me in turn?”

“No!”

His shoulders slumped with disappointment.

“If you don’t put me down,” she said, each word sounding as if it were being forced from her throat, “I’m going to claw out your eyes and eat them in front of you.”

He chuckled, his disappointment forgotten. She had a sweet face and a bloodthirsty disposition. What a delicious contradiction.

“Why are you laughing? I’m not teasing, and I’m most certainly not accepting your invitation and going with you.”

He did stop laughing. “You alone have no choice. You are coming with me no matter what.”

A muscle ticked in her jaw.

When their gazes met, blue against golden brown, he inhaled sharply. Awareness sizzled inside him, stronger than before. Such beauty. His nostrils flared, and he knew his pupils dilated. His body hardened painfully.

She gulped, her already pale skin becoming pallid.

“You’re going to kidnap me?”

“Have you changed your mind about coming with me?”

“No!”

“Then yes. Yes, I am going to kidnap you.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“YES, I AM going to kidnap you.”

To Shaye, the quiet determination in the warrior’s voice proved more frightening than a bellow because he wasn’t overcome by emotion, and he knew his mind wouldn’t be swayed.

She should be screaming for help. Instead, she only wanted to snuggle against her captor. Her freaking captor!

A delicious heat had woven through her blood. A heat that begged her to stop resisting and enjoy every stolen touch, every caress of the man’s warm, clean breath on her skin.

“This is wrong,” she grated. “This is not okay. This mantitlement will not stand!”

“Mantitlement?” He chuckled. “I vow to you here and now, I’ll never harm you. I will protect you with my life. I will cherish and pamper you. You’ll see.”

“Said every captor to every victim.” Her stomach roiled. “Why do you want us to live with you?” Maid service? Sex slaves?

Her stomach roiled harder.

Never mind that other women were petting the warriors as if they were innocent house cats.

He ignored Shaye’s question...kind of. “My name is Valerian, and I’m king of the nymphs. I intend to make you my queen.”

Wait, wait, wait. His queen? Was he talking marriage? After a two second introduction?

Can’t process...

In an effort to remain calm, she concentrated on the more trivial details. “Valerian, like the flower? And do you mean you’re king of the nymphos?”

The women were definitely meant to be sex slaves.

“No. We’re nymphs. The word rhymes with lymph.” A pause. “You humans have a flower named Valerian?”

Humans? “Yes, we humans do, and its root is lauded for helping people fall sleep.”

He laughed. “So this strong, mighty root gets women into bed? How appropriate. Your flower must have been named after me.”

Part of her wanted to laugh with him. The other part just wanted to whimper. Had there ever been a more sexual sound?

Her ovaries might have just exploded.

Give in to his desires. They match your own...

What? No! Panicked by her weakening will, Shaye launched into action, slamming her palm into Valerian’s nose.

His head whipped backward, and blood trickled onto his lip.

A shocked pause ensued.

Then, “Why did you do that?” he demanded.

“You’re as dumb as a box of rocks if you can’t figure out the answer on your own.” As she spoke, she bowed her back and kicked her legs. “Let me go!”

His grip on her loosened...as if he feared hurting her? She managed to squirm free and—

Thud. She crash-landed, only to jump to her feet and race away. Go! Go!

No, not without her mom. She switched direction, dragging her gaze over the masses. Her breath emerged in shallow, ragged pants.

Preston lay unconscious on the floor. When he’d aimed a gun at Valerian, another warrior had knocked him out. There was Conner, her new stepdad, frantically crawling away from a redheaded warrior. But there was no sign of Tamara.

Where was she? They might have a rocky relationship, but Shaye couldn’t—wouldn’t—abandon her to...this.

Arms seized her from behind, the grip gentle but firm. Valerian! He’d only touched her once, but she would have recognized the feel of him anytime, anywhere. A white-hot brand.

Her blood ran from blistering to frigid as different emotions flooded her. Relief, lust, anger, confusion and fear.

Choose your attitude. She focused on the anger, turned and kneed Valerian in the balls.

He released a strained wheeze as he hunched over. He might have said, “My precious!”

“Not so eager for me now, are you?”

“That...hurt,” he rasped.

“Of course it did, and there’s more where that came from if you grab me again.” Once again she darted away, still searching...searching...

There!

Conner hadn’t been trying to leave, she realized. He’d been on the lookout for his bride. He now had Tamara trapped in his arms as she struggled to accost a warrior.

Shaye jumped over fallen chairs and skirted around overturned tables, slipping and sliding along a river of red punch. Someone else snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her against a stone wall of a chest.

His scent wasn’t quite as exotic as Valerian’s. Even his skin felt different, cooler, smoother. While his arms had a thick veil of dark hair, Valerian’s possessed only a dusting of honey-blond.

She slammed the back of her head into his chin, her entire body vibrating with the force of the blow.

He growled a word she’d never heard, no doubt a curse. His arms fell away from her; she whirled on him, ready to fight to the death. His!

She never should have come here. Nothing good ever happened at her mom’s weddings.

The he-man regarded her through narrowed blue eyes. “I only meant to kiss you,” he said, in English this time, his voice so heavily accented she had trouble deciphering the words.

When her frantic mind deduced his meaning, she slapped him.

“Ow!” He rubbed his cheek.

“Kissing a woman without permission is not okay,” she shouted.

He...pouted?

Shaye leaped around him and closed in on her mom. “Let’s go! We have to get out of here.” Before Valerian noticed.

Tamara continued fighting her husband. “If you don’t release me, I’ll stab you while you’re sleeping!”

Lines of strain bracketed the groom’s too-thin lips while concern and fear gleamed in his eyes. “What should I do?” he asked, looking to Shaye.

Urgency beat her with brass knuckles. “Just throw her over your shoulder fireman-style and run. I’ll—”

“Be staying with me,” she heard behind her.

The familiar, husky voice made her shiver. Made her muscles clench, desperate for sublime satisfaction.

He slid a hand around her bare stomach; his fingers were long and thick, tanned and hard against her pale softness. Goose bumps broke out all over her body. His other hand glided across her collarbone to stop beneath her seashell-covered breast. He tugged her backward, locking her against a muscled chest.

She melted into him. No, no. She forced herself to stiffen. He smelled like dark magic. Sultry. Heady. Powerful.

She should protest. At the very least, she should scold him for such daring.

The words refused to leave her mouth.

Whatever madness had overcome the other women, well, it had obviously affected her, too.

Valerian’s warm breath stroked the hollow of her ear, shooting dangerous sparks of pleasure across her nerve endings. “My nose still hurts. As does my co—manhood. Kiss me and make me better?”

A strange weakness invaded her limbs. “No, thank you?”

A question? Really?

She’d always thought herself immune to lust. None of the men she’d dated had ever made it past first base. Kisses goodbye had been more of an obligation than a desire.

Cold fish, one man had even lobbed at her.

She’d had to agree with him. Cold equaled safe.

But she wasn’t cold right now. She burned.

She burned because of a stranger intent on kidnapping her!

He rubbed his cheek against hers. “I was born to please you, moonbeam. You are my paradise, and I will be yours. Imagine it. You’re naked. I’m naked. We grind together, reaching heights we never before thought possible.”

A moan bubbled up, but she swallowed it back. He’d launched a full assault on her senses. Touch, sound, scent, sight...each giving her a taste of the delights she could find in his arms.

His soft lips brushed the shell of her ear; his tongue darted inside, only to retreat and leave her shaking, hungry for more. “Let me take you to my home. Let me give you untold pleasure.”

Fight this! Fight him! “I—no, thank you.” A statement this time.

“Shall we bargain, then? My kingdom for your heart.”

He expected her to hand over rights to her heart after meeting him only five minutes ago? No way. Just no way. Fight!

“You don’t want me or my black heart. Trust me. But I will give you trouble, and a lot of it. I’m mean and cranky, and most people can’t stand to be around me.”

“I want everything you have to give. In return, I’ll give you everything right back.”

Tamara ripped free of Conner’s clasp to curl around Valerian’s ankles and kiss his feet. “Take my heart! It’s yours!”

Valerian didn’t seem to notice he had a woman slobbering on his boots.

“Get up, Mom,” Shaye demanded. Seeing her newly wed mother humble herself in such a way snapped her out of whatever spell Valerian had cast. “Run. Escape!”

“She is your mother? Fear not. No harm will come to her and her husband, I swear it.” Without releasing Shaye, Valerian gently lifted Tamara to her feet and urged her toward Conner.

“Only if I cooperate with you, right?” Shaye asked with bite.

“No. No harm will come to the pair regardless of your actions.”

A lie, surely.

“What’s your name?” he asked her, having to speak over Tamara’s pleas.

Mutinous, Shaye pressed her lips in a thin line. Defy him at every turn. Ignore the heady, seductive tingle in my veins. Maybe then he would tire of her.

“You surprise me,” he said, his honeyed timbre rich with confusion. “I expected my mate—”

A string of foreign words suddenly cut him off.

His mate?

Stiffening, Valerian faced the speaker. Shaye did the same. The man had black hair and eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. Like the others, he wore only pants and boots, his bronzed chest on display. He said something else.

Valerian responded in the same, clipped language.

What were they saying to each other?

The dark-haired man motioned to Shaye with a tilt of his chin.

Whatever Valerian’s reply, it wasn’t nice. His tone hardened, becoming unbending and dripping with command.

The warrior paused only a moment, shrugged and strode away.

“What was that about?” Trying not to panic again, she angled her head to stare up at her captor.

Mistake! Their gazes locked, and a wave of sexual energy sparked between them, stronger than before, undeniable and irresistible.

Need coiled between her legs, hot and wet, before spiraling through her stomach, her nipples.

Look away. Look away!

“What was that about?” she repeated.

“I’m breaking my own rules.” He bent to nuzzle her cheek with his own, an action seemingly as natural to him as breathing. “The fact isn’t...appreciated. What Joachim failed to understand is that you are not a rule, you are an exception.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll explain. Later.” Without another word, he spun her and hefted her onto his shoulder as if she weighed nothing more than a bag of feathers.

“Put me down!” She fought and kicked with all her might, and her knee slammed into his stomach. “Valerian!”

“I love the sound of my name on your rose-petal lips,” he said, striding out of the tent, past the line of waiting—eager—women. “Would you like to hear your name on mine?”

“Never!”

He sighed, heading for the ocean he’d risen from. At least her mom wouldn’t be forced to endure...whatever these men were going to make her and the others endure.

The warriors fell into place behind him, and the young, single women happily, blithely followed suit. Those singles were a mix of every race, size and age, though no one looked to be under twenty or over fifty; the prettiest of the bunch even had a prosthetic leg. To the warriors’ credit, they peered at each woman as if she were the ultimate prize, despite the flaws modern-day trolls would have most likely issued.

Wait. Was she praising douche bags just because they found everyone equally attractive?

I need more therapy. Shaye didn’t need praise from someone—anyone—else. She liked herself just the way she was.

Feminine sobs echoed from within the tent.

“Take me with you,” someone called. “Please. I’m begging.”

At the shoreline, Valerian stopped to whisper, “Beautiful. So very beautiful. A sky without a dome.” He spoke in English—for her benefit?

“The heavens seem to go on forever,” another said, clearly awed. He, too, spoke in English.

“I’d dreamed of this land, but never imagined such majesty.”

“Are you sure we can’t stay here?” one of the warriors asked. “We could bring the rest of the army through the portal and—”

Valerian shook his head, silky tendrils of his hair brushing her bare back.

Portal?

“I’m sure,” he said. “Layel was very clear. To remain on the surface is to die on the surface. Let us tarry no longer.” He walked into the water.

He was going for a nighttime swim? Or did he plan something more nefarious? Like a mass drowning?

Fear sprouted. “Valerian.” She slapped his butt with all her might. “This is illegal. You’re going to get caught. Criminals always get caught. At your trial I’ll request the death penalty.” If I’m still alive.

“As long as you’re in my arms, I can die a happy man.”

She beat her fists into his back, watching water splash at his feet. The echo of churning waves filled her ears. “Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”

“I told you I would never hurt you. This is the only way to my home. Once there, I’ll beg for your forgiveness for any hardships you endure. I’ll gift you with more jewels and gold than you can imagine. I’ll—”

“I don’t want jewels and gold, you brute! I want my freedom.”

Waves lapped at his knees...his thighs...his midsection. Cool, salty droplets sprayed over her face and burned her eyes. Though he slowed his pace, he continued on, sinking deeper and deeper into the water.

She swallowed a mouthful of the stuff—and choked. He stopped, patting her butt in a vain effort to help her catch her breath. Then he resumed his slow, torturous journey. The other women still followed merrily, each wearing a giddy smile, as if frolicking to their deaths was perfectly acceptable. Even fun.

Wait. No, not every woman followed merrily. The one with dark curls, a petite beauty, looked ready to vomit.

Shaye’s heart pounded in her chest, an erratic drumbeat. A war beat. “Don’t do this. You’re going to kill us all, you—umph.”

Butt smack. “Hold your breath, moonbeam.”

The next thing she knew, she was completely submerged. The salt stung her eyes. Her throat constricted. Hair floated around her face like strands of ivory ribbon.

The idiot man kept his strong arms locked around her, one at the bend of her knees, one at the small of her back. His palms were hot, so hot, a startling contrast against the chilly liquid.

Colorful fish swam past her. She wanted to scream, but every time she opened her mouth, she swallowed more water.

He tilted forward and began using his powerful legs to swim even deeper....deeper still. Her lungs shrieked for air. She desperately needed to breathe. Now. Now!

Can’t...

Terror devoured her.

I’m going to die, she realized. My life will be over before I ever truly lived.

A thousand regrets surfaced, along with all the lies she’d told herself. She didn’t like herself. She wasn’t happy. She should have forgiven those who’d wronged her. Clinging to hurt instead of embracing love seemed so silly now. Like wasted time. Every moment counted, and hurt only ever, well, hurt. Love healed, always. She should have written a book instead of simply talking about it. Her characters could have had the happy ending she’d secretly craved for herself.

She should have gotten a second tattoo. A rose in full bloom, or a cross, or a butterfly. Basically the opposite of the skull and crossbones she had on her lower back—an image she’d gotten to make her parents notice her.

Her mom had definitely noticed and still mailed her articles about new methods of tattoo-removal every few weeks.

Her mind suddenly blanked, becoming as dark as the water, wiping her thoughts clean.

Have to breathe, she mentally shouted.

Between one heartbeat and the next, the murky water cleared, so glassy she could see as perfectly as if she were on land. Even the salt dissipated, soothing her irritated eyes.

Valerian tugged her forward so that they were eye to eye. She tried to push away from him—her tormentor—but he held tight.

Breathe, she mouthed. Please.

With a hand on her nape, he drew her close and pressed his mouth to hers; he used his tongue to open her lips...and then he exhaled, gifting her with the last breath he’d taken.

The burn inside her cooled, the vise-grip easing from her throat and lungs.

Lifting his head, he motioned with a tilt of his chin, and she squelched her panic long enough to turn and look. Her eyes widened when she spotted the swirling, gelatinous whirlpool that loomed ahead.

What was that? And why was Valerian swimming straight for it?

She fought to paddle in the opposition direction, but an undeniable suction pulled her closer...until she shot through the whirlpool and into dark nothingness.

She began to spin, faster and faster, left and right, tumbling toward the unknown. Nausea churned in her stomach, and needles jabbed at her pores, the pain nearly too much to bear.

She didn’t understand what was happening; she only knew the water had disappeared, leaving the spiraling black abyss that seemed to stretch for eternity.

Zipping lights whizzed past her, firefly flickers extinguished all too soon. A bevy of screams assaulted her ears, and a sharp ache began to hammer at her temples. Her blood flash-froze in her veins even as sweat beaded over her skin.

As a little girl, her favorite fairy tale had been Alice in Wonderland. Alice had fallen down a rabbit hole, and Shaye had envied her. A whole new world! Adventure!

Suddenly she pitied Alice.

Brighter streams of light appeared. Gusts of wind erupted, blustering around her.

Where was Valerian? She shouted his name.

Dizziness invaded her mind as she continued to twirl, twirl, twirl, alone, frightened...finally crash-landing inside a new world, just like Alice.

CHAPTER FIVE

“I’VE GOT YOU, MOON.”

Strong arms lifted Shaye, and she gratefully buried her face in the hollow of Valerian’s neck. In that moment, she no longer cared what the warrior was doing to her; she was just happy he was with her. She even wound her legs around his hips to prevent any kind of separation.

I’m safe?

“Don’t you dare let me go,” she cried.

His hold tightened. “I will never let you go.”

The vehement tone should have frightened her, but oddly enough she felt comforted instead.

Maybe because he clung to her as if she were a treasure. As if she were someone special. As if he’d waited his whole life to meet her and now couldn’t imagine living without her.

A deception, she knew. But that was okay. For now, that was okay.

“Take a moment to breathe.” He petted his fingers down her spine. “Breathe for me. I don’t feel your chest moving.”

Right. In, out. Air filled and exited her lungs. In, out. Surprisingly, she did calm. The scent of salt and Valerian’s particular brand of black magic teased her nostrils. His heart beat against hers. His hard strength welcomed her soft femininity.

Valerian set her on her feet and framed her jaw with his big, callused hands. “You are pale,” he said, a hint of concern in his voice.

“I’m always pale,” she muttered.

She forced her gaze to abandon the stunning beauty of his chiseled features in favor of studying her new surroundings.

They’d somehow entered a cave. The walls were rough and rocky, silver stones painted with streaks of crimson. Blood?

She swallowed the barbed lump growing in her throat. A metallic tang layered the cold, cold air, and that cold, cold air continued to stroke her nearly bare body, chasing away Valerian’s delicious warmth, making her shiver.

A shuffle of footsteps sounded behind her.

Gasping, she looked over her shoulder. Tendrils of mist curled toward a domed ceiling as, one by one, warriors walked from a clear, jellylike whirlpool identical to the one she’d seen under water. The women still followed, but they were no longer smiling.

“Where are we?” she asked Valerian.

A pause. “Look at me, Moon. Please.”

The nickname made no sense to her, and yet it somehow delighted her—the only reason she obeyed him.

The rest of the world vanished as her gaze traveled from his booted feet to his muscled legs, skipping over the ridge between his legs to stop on his chest—where rope after rope of bronzed masculinity awaited. Droplets of water trickled over perfect male nipples—even through the silver piercing—and pooled in his navel.

How could one person be so...delicious?

He had perfect sandy brows, perfect crystalline eyes framed with spiky black lashes and a perfect nose. His lips were plump and pink—and perfect.

Confidence clung to him like a second skin, making him the most sensually erotic creature she’d ever seen. Even better—or worse!—he radiated primal ferocity.

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