Darkness Captured (26 page)

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Authors: Delilah Devlin

Tags: #Paranormal, #Vampires, #Romance, #Occult & Supernatural, #Fiction, #Erotica, #General

BOOK: Darkness Captured
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Instead, she refused to acknowledge Marduk’s presence, unwilling to give him anything, not even her attention. A pale sort of rebellion, but she didn’t have any other feminine weapons to confront him with.

Tears hadn’t moved him. Neither had her pleas.

Marduk remained silent for a long moment, only the sounds of his breaths and hers breaking the silence between them. Then his feet resettled, scuffing the ground. “Are you considering jumping?”

“Of course not,” she said, lifting her lip in a snarl. “I would only injure myself. And then you’d have exactly what you’ve wanted all along—me, confined to a bed.”

“Is that all you think I want from you?”

“It’s all you’ve demanded of me.”

He stepped beside her, his hands landing on the top of the ledge. “I want your happiness,” he said softly, turning to gaze at her profile.

“Do you even know what that is? It’s not sexual satisfaction; it’s not filling your belly with sweet rose petals. Do you have any concept of what happiness really is?”

“Perhaps I just need to be shown the way. I would try to make you happy.”

“That’s impossible. I’m a prisoner. Kept from the man I might have loved for all my life.” She snorted. “I’ve discovered I’m more wolf than I had thought.”

“Because you’re still grieving?”

“Because I don’t know how I will ever be able to stop,” she whispered.

“And if I told you he wasn’t dead … that there’s a chance he could still survive …”

Gabriella’s heart leapt. She stood frozen for a moment, wondering if he was playing some terrible game with her. Her head swung toward him, hope filling her chest even as dread that he might be lying churned in her belly. “You’re not playing with me?” she asked, her throat tight.

“I’ve just returned from the palace. Your warrior laid waste to half a dozen of Her Majesty’s finest men. She’s impressed.”

Gabriella blinked at the sudden moisture in her eyes, and quickly cast her gaze at the desert rather than let him see. “Wolves can be fearsome adversaries. And Guntram’s the best there is.”

“That’s his name?” he asked, sliding closer. “Guntram?”

She shook back her hair, pride welling in her chest. “It means
‘War Raven.’
A name he was given for his prowess long ago.”

“You’ve known him a long time?”

She nodded quickly, sniffing. “For most of my life.”

“He came to rescue you, to take you back, didn’t he?”

Gabriella nodded slowly, knowing that denying the truth would be a waste of breath and probably piss him off. “Of course he came for me. What will happen with him now?”

“It depends entirely on your warrior. If the queen continues to be interested in him, then he may live. I interceded on his behalf, helped Irkalla see that it might be more to her benefit to let him live a little longer.”

Gabriella stared at his face, at the grim jut of his square jaw. “Why would you do that? You don’t want him here.”

“Not for unselfish reasons, I assure you. I could care less whether your wolf lives or dies.”

“You did it for me, then?” she asked, not believing for a moment he did it for any reason but his own gain. He’d expect a reward for his effort. He’d expect her submission.

“Of course.”

Whatever his reason, she couldn’t help being fiercely glad that he’d interceded. At last she let her heart hope again, and turned to give him a smile. A smile cost her little, but she had nothing else save her body to give him.

His arms opened slowly, hesitantly, and she stepped forward and nestled against his chest, grateful as she’d never been before. “You will expect to be repaid.”

“I will expect you to give me what I’m due,” he said, sounding impossibly arrogant. “Regardless of what happens with your wolf. I will tell you that I have no desire to see him killed. But that might still happen if he proves intractable and dangerous. You must tell me how I can convince him to surrender to the queen.”

Gabriella pulled away and raised her gaze, seeing now that Guntram only had a temporary reprieve unless she helped Marduk find a way to make her mate cooperative. She crossed her arms and rubbed them, suddenly chilled. “He’s loyal to me and would sooner face death than break his trust with me.”

“Gabriella, tell me how I can convince him that he must.”

She read the earnestness in his gaze and knew he meant to help. “You must convince him that if he doesn’t, I will come to harm. He would do anything for me.”

“You’ve earned such loyalty?”

She shook her head. “Never. He gave it freely,” she shrugged. “I don’t know why.”

He raised an eyebrow. “He loves you.”

Unbidden, her chin lifted. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“You are headstrong and stubborn. If he didn’t love you, how else did he stand aside and let you roam freely and take lovers without it driving him to take action?”

“I don’t know,” she said, unable to hold back another, softer smile. “Maybe you should ask him. Can I see him?”

Marduk shook his head. “Irkalla would never permit it. I won’t, either. You belong to me.”

Gabriella felt like screaming, so great was her frustration. Men—wolf or dragon—could be complete asses when their pride was at stake. “I belong to no man. I give myself where I wish.”

“And will you give yourself to me?” he asked quietly, his gaze boring into hers.

Gabriella took a deep breath, remembering her fierce refusal of him earlier and turning a deaf ear to the voice screaming inside her that demanded she refuse because she was now bonded with Guntram.

For Guntram’s sake, they both had to toss away their pride.

Never breaking with his glance, she promised, “Keep him alive, and I will give you everything you ask.”

CHAPTER
17

G
untram paced his cell. He’d been left alone for hours, cooling his heels. Hours his mind spent jumping from lusty images of Gabriella’s surrender to worries about how he would keep his promise to save her. A heavily guarded servant had brought a basin of water for him to wash the blood from his body. He’d drunk from it first, face submerged, until the water had turned pink, and then he’d splashed the rest over his chest and arms to wash away the grime.

His cell was sumptuous for a prison. The floors were a cool black marble, the walls painted a lush bloodred. Even the narrow cot was covered with a plush down mattress and piled with pillows.

Only the bars were unembellished. Strong, too. He’d shaken them, testing their strength, but they held firm. Candles burned in sconces on the wall opposite the bars. His was the only cell and had to be entered through a small closet-like room. Round hooks protruded from the back wall, and he didn’t have to guess that this was one of the queen’s playrooms.

Why had she brought him here instead of throwing him into a dungeon or a pit? The answer was likely one that wouldn’t sit well with him, so he kept his mind focused on planning for every possible scenario he might face when Irkalla or one of her minions remembered his existence.

Light footsteps drew near and he halted his pacing, watching the woman who held his life in her hands approach cautiously.

Irkalla was scantily clothed. Guntram took it as good sign. She wanted something from him. A short, beltless robe was held closed by one small hand gripping the fabric at her breasts. He admitted to himself that she was beautiful—in a deeply disturbing way. Dusky skin, dark hair. A feral excitement glittered in her almond eyes.

She wet her plump lips with her tongue as she drew near.

He wondered whether anyone would come running if he reached through the bars and choked her. The thought was deeply satisfying, but he knew he had to tread carefully. He straightened his shoulders, wishing he had a shirt when her greedy gaze traced the flexing muscle.

“What are you called?” she said in a soft singsong voice.

“I am Guntram.”

“Guntram …” she said slowly, as though savoring it on her lips. “You do know that you live by my whim?”

He tilted his head—all the acknowledgement he would allow the bitch.

Her head canted. “You aren’t afraid?”

“My death would mean escape.”

“You don’t think you’re destined to remain here—after death?”

“I’ve followed my conscience in all things.”

“And you’re sure you’ve always taken the correct side?”

“When a man follows his heart, whichever side he fights on, he cannot be damned.”

“Is that something wolves believe?”

“It’s what I believe.”

Her gaze slid away, a small frown bisecting her perfectly arched brows. “I want to know how you came to be here … who helped you.”

Guntram firmed his lips and gave her a small, tight smile.

Her lush lips thinned. “There are ways, unpleasant ones, to make a man talk.”

“The answer isn’t important.” Her attire, and the fact that she was alone, decided his strategy. “What is important,” he added, deepening his voice, “is that I am here. With you.
Now.”

She blinked, and Guntram nearly growled with satisfaction. However revolting the prospect, if he could tempt this woman into letting down her guard, he would escape.

Her gaze raked his body, color filling her cheeks. Then her attention honed on the crystal strung around his neck. “Come closer.”

Guntram cursed silently. He’d forgotten to hide it. He stepped toward the bars, pretending indifference and forcing his expression to soften, his gaze to hungrily devour her body.

Irkalla licked her lips again and reached through the bars, lifting the crystal off his chest.

Guntram held his breath when the crystal no longer touched his skin. But nothing happened, and he wondered if the crystal had any power at all. Or if this place, her palace, was enchanted as well.

A small, cat-like smile wreathed her mouth. “You have given me my answer after all, warrior. I know of another with a gift for working with stones. Simon brought you here.”

Stepping back, she let the crystal fall against his chest. “I would spend time with you, but now I have another to find and cage.” With a last, covetous sweep down his body, she turned. “I will send clothing suitable for your rank,” she said over her shoulder, then disappeared through the anteroom.

Guntram exhaled and wrapped his hands around the bars, wishing he could shake the ceiling down around him. His taut body ached for action. At least, he knew he wouldn’t be cooped up here for long, although he did begin to wonder whether he would be the night’s entertainment or dessert.

Remembering her warning, he stripped off his pants and removed the thin steel wire from the seam. He hid it beneath the mattress, not knowing for sure whether he would be returned here or not, or whether his new clothing would permit him to hide it again. He didn’t like the thought of being weaponless against her guards should he have to fight again.

Then, stretching out on the soft mattress, he closed his eyes and willed himself to relax. He had to conserve his strength, quiet his mind. He held to the memory of Gabriella melting around him at last, to her sweet mating sounds and moist depths.

When he grew restless again, he clasped his fist around himself and eased his body while his mind lingered in the lush dream of a future spent inside her arms.

Marduk drew Gabriella back into the room, relieved she no longer considered him a monster. Again, he drew her close to his body, his hands gliding soothingly up and down her back. “When I leave you, I will find out what has happened with him. Don’t worry now. Irkalla’s intrigued and keeping him close.”

Gabriella raised her face. Her darkening gaze betrayed her worry. “Guntram’s so stubborn, so proud. And he doesn’t know how to lie or pretend. If he displeases her …”

“His strength of will offers her a unique challenge. I’ll be sure to stoke her interest.”

“Marduk, what will happen to him?”

“Irkalla will never let him go willingly, but I can arrange for him to be returned to where he came from.”

“You can send him back to the other realm?”

“A sorcerer lives not far from here. He would help if I ask.”

She snuggled closer inside his embrace. “Is there no way you would allow me to leave with him?” she said softly.

“If I must stay, so shall you. I’m selfish enough to want you here. Never think that I would help him from kindness, but to remove a threat to our relationship—and to earn your promise to give yourself freely to me.”

“To submit to you, you mean,” she said grumpily.

Marduk smiled against her hair. “Has it truly been a trial for you?”

“You know you’ve given me great pleasure.”

He heard what she left unspoken and sighed. “In time, you will settle. I will treat you well. Give you all you desire … and don’t say it … except for the one thing you want most. It will have to be enough.”

“If you save him, I will be … satisfied,” she whispered.

He hugged her close, then lifted her chin with his fingers. He kissed her, inhaling her distinctive scent, made stronger by her bout of weeping. Her eyes were still rimmed in red, her nose a little swollen. But her lips trembled and parted beneath his, and it was enough.

Reaching down, he cupped her bottom and lifted her.

Gabriella needed no instruction to wind her long legs around his waist. Hastily, he pushed down his clothing and freed himself, sighing when she squirmed to ease her moist channel down his turgid cock.

Locked together, he walked back to the balcony and sat her on the edge. With sunlight catching the red strands in her brown hair, he was reminded again of his sweet Zara. Funny how often of late he’d thought of her.

Gabriella’s legs tightened around him. “Don’t drop me,” she murmured, smiling up at him.

“Never, darling. Hold tight to me.” For once, he took her gently, flexing his hips and stroking slowly upward.

Her head fell back, a sigh escaping her soft, pouting lips. “Have I told you how well you do this?”

Marduk felt a grin stretch his lips, feeling suddenly light and carefree. “I’m glad I please you in this at least.”

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