He was in her face a split second later, breath hissing over her nose and lips. Despite everything, she wanted to jerk him closer, shove her tongue into his mouth and taste more of him. She might even bite, so fierce was her need.
'You have no idea of what you speak, so shut your mouth. I did not lie. I did not exaggerate. All of you, even the child queen you spoke of so fondly, will die by my hand.'
Fury and disbelief fought for control inside her. 'My blood is even now coursing through your body and you dare threaten me and those I love? That is low, even for you.'
The electric spark in his eyes died. 'I am a king. I do whatever I wish, whenever I wish.'
A mirror of her earlier thoughts, but she didn't like them coming from him. 'Even a king can be made into a slave.'
'So you hope to enslave me, do you? Now the truth is revealed. An Amazon to the core. Give the vampire your blood and watch him beg for more. Is that it?'
'That's not—'
He cut her off with a low snarl. 'Know now that I will never beg you for anything, Amazon.'
Finally she allowed herself to step closer to him. Still she didn't grab him, didn't kiss him. 'That's what you said about drinking from me. How did I taste?' she finished with a smugness she wished to the gods she felt.
His eyelids narrowed to dangerous slits. 'I think it will be best if we avoid one another. As I've suggested all along.'
'I was about to say the same—' Her knees buckled. She collapsed on the ground, her head seeming to fly to the heavens, an ache in her temples. Groaning, she massaged them. What in Hades had just happened?
Layel cursed under his breath and scooped her up.
'Let me go,' she managed to say, though it was breathless, insubstantial.
'You don't really want me to let you go, Delilah.'
A mortifying truth. 'What's wrong with me?'
'I must have taken too much.' He might have added, 'I've never tasted anything so rich, so good,' but she couldn't be sure. The words were more of a rumble than anything.
'Bastard. I've never fallen before.' And she did not like that she had now. With this man watching. And though she might like being in his arms, she couldn't forget the hateful things he'd said to her. 'Put me down. Now!'
'Whether or not you've fallen before, if I put you down, that is exactly what you'll do. Again.'
'That's a chance I'm willing to take.'
He dropped her legs first, and she immediately regretted her demand. Until a cool caress of air hit her bottom half, she hadn't realized how warm he'd made her. Still. She planted her feet on the solid foundation and locked her knees, determined to remain upright no matter the cost.
That's when Layel released her completely, tsking under his tongue.
Like a wave in the ocean, she glided forward without the strength to stop herself. Silent, he wrapped his arms around her and held. Simply held. When she heard the strong gallop of his heart, she relaxed. Didn't try to pull away. Just listened. Slowly, so sweetly, his hands stroked up and down her spine.
She'd expected him to push her away. At the very least to say he'd told her so. That he did neither…Would she ever understand this man?
His arms tightened around her, nearly crushing the breath from her lungs. She didn't complain. She liked it, felt safe. The man now holding her was not the same man who had insulted her.
'You confuse me,' she said softly.
'I know. I confuse myself.' His breath fanned the top of her head, and then he was resting his chin there. 'I still think it would be wise to remain at a distance.'
'I—' Want you to kiss me. I want you to make me forget what we were fighting about. Convince me we have a tomorrow. 'You're probably right.'
'Well, well, well,' a voice said behind them. 'Isn't this nice?'
CHAPTER 13
LAYEL DIDN'T YET HAVE his desire under control when the dragon's voice invaded his thoughts. This is a good thing. Really.
Delilah stiffened in his arms.
Delilah…her blood was the nectar of the gods, surely. One sip, and he'd been transported to the heavens. One gulp, and he'd experienced more sexual ecstasy than he'd ever experienced while pumping his cock inside of a woman. Shouldn't have tasted her. He'd expected to find her ordinary, to reduce her to a meal.
He had failed.
Now he knew the truth. Now he knew that nothing compared to her. Not a rich, aged wine, not ambrosia.
Slowly he lowered his hands to his sides and turned, surprised by just how relieved he was to see the pair of dragons. Surprised the two warriors were standing together as allies when most of the races had already divided against each other, thanks to the gods' cruel game. A moment more, and he might have done something irrevocable. As if you haven't already. Something…tender, then.
Gods, this woman challenged him. Angered him, drew him. Tormented him. Cut him up and left him bare. She'd had a lover once, had welcomed the bastard inside her sweet body, and he despised the man with his entire being. Not a good time for these thoughts.
He studied his new opponents. Seeing those golden eyes roused every spark of hatred banked inside him. Better. The emotion was a constant part of him, fused to his bones and flowing through his veins. And yet, tonight he felt no urge to attack or kill. Why?
Delilah couldn't be healing the wounds inside him, he assured himself. There was nothing to heal. Some injuries caused irreparable damage, so complete there was nothing left to sew back together. She wasn't making him forget; he could never forget. Perhaps it was that odd sense of relief that held him in place and dulled his rage. The dragons had prevented him from doing something stupid.
More, Delilah had panted earlier, and he'd been very close to giving it to her. He'd been close to giving her everything. Sex, promises…forever. Was still close. Gods, she was no longer in his arms but he could still feel the softness of her body. Worse, that sickening feeling of tenderness lingered. For her.
No one had spoken a word for several seconds—minutes?—he realized. Each of them had been standing in utter silence. Layel knew why he had done so; he'd been lost in thought. Why had they?
'So nice of you to join us,' he said to break the quiet, his tone smooth.
Brand and Tagart both blinked at him, as though they couldn't believe what he'd said. They didn't relax, though, clearly still expecting him to attack. Both kept their hands poised over the wooden hilts of their daggers.
'Was he hurting you?' Brand asked Delilah. Though his words were addressed to her, his eyes, narrowed and filled with menace, never left Layel.
Layel wasn't sure what he expected the Amazon to say in response—or what he wanted her to say. Part of him wanted to hear the woman whose blood now flowed through his veins praise him. Stand with him. The two of them against the world, united, two halves of the same whole.
The other part of him yearned to hear her tell them that, yes, he had hurt her. That would be easier to deal with later, when he was alone with his shame. He might be able to convince himself that he hadn't kissed her because he craved her more than he craved vengeance, that he hadn't, for that terribly beautiful moment, treated her as lovingly as he'd once treated Susan.
If only he could convince himself of that. Because, had Susan risen from the dead and been the one to interrupt them, Layel wasn't sure he would have been able to pull away from Delilah. He would not have regretted where his arms had been. Or where his mouth had been earlier.
Right then he felt divided, like two separate beings tugged in different directions. Sadly, both entities had one
