Burning Dawn
Page 5

An arousal he didn’t understand. She wasn’t his woman.
“Thane,” she said on a trembling breath. “Your name is Thane. Kendra tripled your dose of poison, so I need you to concentrate on the cold now spilling through you. Do you feel it? Do you feel the cold?”
The cold—yes. A thin layer of ice coated his insides. “Yes.”
“Good. Now concentrate on me,” she said, and he was helpless to do otherwise. “Hear what I say. You are a Sent One. You aren’t here of your own volition. You were drugged. You’re still drugged. The woman you desire has made you a prisoner of the Phoenix. Clan Firebird.”
In some forgotten corner of his mind, the words held his interest. Sent One. Drugged. Prisoner. Phoenix.
The words were accompanied by emotions.
Sent One—longing.
Drugged—confusion.
Prisoner—rage.
Phoenix—hatred.
“—still listening? You can free yourself, Thane. There is a way.”
The cold intensified, until a winter storm raged through every inch of him. All the while the female continued to speak—that voice, so carnally perfect—and he began to feel as if he were floating higher and higher, his head finally peeking above a sheet of dark clouds.
His name was Thane. He was a Sent One.
He was here for a woman. No, he thought a second later. He was here because of one.
Kendra. Yes. That was her name.
He despised Kendra. Didn’t he?
No. He wanted her. Only her.
But...if that were true, why was he clinging to the female in his arms?
The, oh, so tempting female in my arms. He ran his nose along the line of her neck, inhaling deeply.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked on a wispy catch of breath. “Smelling me? I’ve bathed. I swear I have.”
No hint of smoke or flowers, only soap and cherries. She didn’t smell like Kendra, and he was glad.
He rubbed his stubble-covered cheek against her skin. Soft, mildly warm rather than searing hot. She didn’t feel like Kendra. But...better?
Yes, oh, yes.
He flicked his tongue across her fluttering pulse. Melted honey, summer fruit. She didn’t taste like Kendra. So much better.
“Stop.” She moaned, and he liked that, too. Wanted to hear it again...and again. “That’s not going to happen between us, warrior. We’re going to save each other, nothing else.”
What he heard: going to happen between us.
He agreed.
He carried her to the bed and eased her onto the mattress. “Have you,” he said.
“No, Thane,” she replied, wary—and even more breathless.
Floating higher and higher...
Peering down at her, he felt as if he were seeing her for the first time. Maybe he was. Or, maybe his focus was sharper with every second that passed, new portions of his mind clearing, cobwebs falling away.
His friends would have called her “plain,” he thought, but to Thane she was utterly breathtaking.
Long, dark hair spread around her like a midnight curtain. She was human. Petite. Delicately honed, like a cameo. Her pale skin had been burned by the harsh rays of the desert sun and had freckled. He could trace those freckles with his tongue. She was young, perhaps twenty, with big gray eyes that reminded him of smoked-glass mirrors. He could see himself in those eyes...all the way to his battered soul.
Something in her called to something in him—like to like—and a part of him he’d never known, a part once hidden even from that forgotten corner, responded. It was strong, this something. It was alive. Demanding. And it was saying, This one. Take her.
He watched as her gaze dropped to his erection...and quickly shot back up. A blush stained her cheeks. The sight aroused him, lighting a new fire in his veins.
“Uh, if you want to be free of Kendra, you can’t make love to her. Not that that’s what you’ve been doing to her. Barf! I’m just saying you have to kill her.”
He would have to proceed with caution. He could easily hurt so fragile a female.
Her words registered, and he paused. Kill...Kendra?
“There’s no better time. She’s sleeping. That’s how I managed to steal the Frost.”
Higher...
Kendra... His friend Bjorn had found her in the slave market. She’d been bound by gossamer chains—somehow unbreakable—when the warrior presented her to Thane as a gift.
Higher still... Bjorn. A sharp, stinging pang razed Thane’s chest. Bjorn and Xerxes. His boys. His only friends. They had fought demons together, bled together. They had shared lovers and guarded each other’s backs. The boys were as close as brothers. He trusted them with his life. Loved them with all that he was. Needed them more than his heart or lungs.
They felt the same way about him. Bjorn probably blamed himself for what had happened with the princess.
He shouldn’t. Thane had welcomed Kendra into his bed because she hadn’t minded his peculiar sexual tastes...his enjoyment for things that had horrified so many others. In fact, she had begged for the terrible things he’d done to her. For more. But she had also grown possessive and clingy, and he’d decided to let her go.
To punish him for his defection, Kendra had tried to torch his club, the Downfall. He’d stopped her before any permanent damage was done and hauled her back to her people, happy to be rid of her.
Only, her father had freed her from her chains, and she had returned for Thane. With full use of her powers.
Some Phoenix could change their appearance with only a thought, and Kendra was one of them. Again and again she’d come to Thane, never appearing to be the same woman, and each time he’d taken her. All too soon, he’d become dependent on the fiery poison her body produced.
That was when she’d revealed her deception.
Enraged, he’d killed her and, in turn, sealed some kind of bond between them, giving her what she’d wanted most. His slavish devotion.
Sparks of remembered rage scalded him.
She. Had. Enslaved. Him. Had bound his mind as surely as she’d bound his body. Only, the chains on his thoughts had been invisible.
She was the enemy.
She had to die.
* * *
IT’S WORKING. He’s beginning to understand.
Elin’s joy was sweeter than the banana cream pie Bay used to make her.
“If I kill the princess,” Thane gritted, “she’ll become even stronger.”