Into The Dark (Lords of the Underworld #5.5)(22)
Author: Gena Showalter

But even if he had not been enjoying himself, Nola still would have chosen to watch over Zane. His strength and determination, and even his wildness, drew her. Maybe because that wildness had never truly extended to her. Even when she’d stabbed both of his shoulders with spears, he had not attempted to hurt her. He had cried out for her, wanting to be with her.

I hate myself for rejecting him.

“Why haven’t you used your…gift to help you escape?” she asked, ignoring his question as he’d ignored hers. Much as this man had to hate her, despite the desire he’d professed—or had she imagined that?—she wasn’t ready to voice her softer feelings. Even she didn’t understand her change from tormentor to tormented. And what if he were to reject her? Her already bruised and battered heart would not survive.

His cheeks heated in embarrassment, but still he did not face her.

He’d once used that gift on her. Had slipped inside her dreams and showed her how good it would be between them. How he would kiss and taste every inch of her body, enjoy her, help her enjoy him.

“You can show the Amazons the destruction you will unleash if they fail to release you.”

“The gods stripped me of the ability when they sent me here,” he finally admitted. “I can no longer enter dreams. Or create nightmares. They also stripped me of my ability to transport myself to other locations with only a thought.”

Damn them! “There has to be a way to free you. I wish I could leave camp and visit your king. Word has spread through Atlantis that he is wed now to my sister, Delilah. They would help you, I know it. And maybe, like you, they would be able to see and hear me. But I am bound to this camp, as surely as if I were shackled. I cannot leave its boundaries.”

Or perhaps she could, now that part of her curse seemed to be lifted. She wanted to check, but couldn’t force herself to move away.

Zane shifted even further away from her, his chains rattling. It was another stark reminder of their doomed circumstances. “Why would you help me?”

“Because I—” She peered down at her hands. Her fingers were twined together and twisting the leather of her skirt. They wanted to be on Zane’s body, learning his every nuance. What would make him gasp in pleasure? What would make him moan? “I owe you. I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. Sorrier than I can ever express. I want—”

“Enough,” he growled, cutting her off. “I don’t want your apology. I never did.”

Rejection. Even though she had not professed her new feelings. As she’d suspected, her heart stopped. Literally stopped. Tears burned her eyes. She had not cried in years. Not since she was a little girl, huddled in bed, dreading the monsters who would visit her.

“I’ve always wanted you…your body,” he added in a croak. “Still do.”

“Wh-what?”

“I want you.”

Shocking. Need trembled through her. Welcome need. Beloved need. “Yes.” Yes. “I would rather give myself to you than give the apology, for I want you, too.” There. Admission. Not as scary as she had thought. Freeing, actually. “But you can’t touch me, and I cannot touch you. How…” Hated need, she thought next. A craving that could never be satisfied.

“We will figure it out.” Huskily said, softening expression.

How? she wanted to ask again, but didn’t. No telling when Amelia would return. Their privacy was limited, and she did not want to spend it grasping for solutions they would never find.

Apparently, Zane did not either.

“Climb on top of me,” he beseeched. “I want to see you there. Want to imagine.”

To her surprise, she obeyed without hesitation, eager, straddling his waist. His eyes closed, and he arched up. Imagine, he’d said. He was imagining sinking inside her.

Yes, she thought. Yes. She would like that. Wanted that. She imagined his hard shaft entering inch by inch and moaned. A few times, the act had felt pleasurable rather than painful, but those times had left her wallowing in shame. How could she have liked being bedded by those disgusting males, even for a moment?

This time, however, there was no shame. Only acceptance. More.

“Zane, I—”

“Feel good?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad. Would you like me to—”

The entrance to the tent flapped, and Amelia strode inside. “Well, vampire. I have decided—” Her eyes widened, and she stopped. “Nola? What are you doing here?”

Nola jumped up as though burned. She wanted to scream in frustration, but held her tongue. One question had been answered, at least. Others could see her. “Hello, Amelia.” Did she sound as breathless to the warrioress as she did to herself?

“We thought you were dead.”

“You thought wrong.”

Amelia’s dark gaze swung to Zane, then back to Nola. “Either way, you will move away from my slave. If you wanted him for yourself, you should have been brave enough to return and fight for him.”

“I do want him for myself.”

“Too late.”

No. It wasn’t. She refused to believe that.

“Nola,” Zane said, and there was a warning in his tone.

A warning of what? Nola didn’t face him, but squared her shoulders and forced her expression to harden. “Well, I am here now. Amelia, I challenge you for the vampire.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“HURRY! SHE’LL RETURN any moment, and she’ll have others with her. Perhaps the entire army.”

Zane watched as Nola tried and failed to jerk the head of his chains from the iron pole they were attached to, a pole that was anchored deep in the earth. As before, her fingers merely passed through the object.

His shock had yet to diminish. Nola was here; Nola wanted him; Nola thought to help him. After her announcement—I challenge you for the vampire—his captor had stormed out of the tent with every intention of speaking to the Amazon queen. And having Nola imprisoned.

No. He would not allow that.

She was his.

Earlier when she’d apologized to him, it had not been remorse thickening her voice. It had been desire. Then she’d climbed on top of him without any uncertainty, had moaned when he’d arched into her. He hadn’t been able to feel her, but oh, just the thought of doing so had been enough for him. He’d never craved a female more.

“How do you propose to fight her?” he demanded. “You cannot hurt her, and she cannot hurt you.” Thank the gods. He would rather endure an eternity of slavery than watch this woman bleed.