Honor Bound (6 page)

Five bodies later,
Orion called a halt to their hunt.

Amaia was weary and
wounded, both conditions that would be fatal when facing Itzal.
Oihana and Ganix had attacked her together, and the pair had worked
out their tandem attacks over hours of practice. If she hadn't
watched or participated in most of their training sessions, they'd
have killed her. As it was, Amaia felt lightheaded from blood loss,
the numerous shallow cuts on her skin burning.

Orion was in no better
shape. Blood slicked his skin over wounds that had healed shut, but
it was clear that even the strong magic inside him couldn't heal
everything. Jamel had scored a lucky hit while Orion was distracted,
slicing through his pants and leaving a deep cut along his thigh that
still bled. Another slash marred his cheek, and a third his upper
arm.

He led her to a cave
tucked deep in the woods. The front was all but inaccessible, forcing
them to climb a small cliff above and navigate a treacherous and
winding path down the face of the rock. Only the hand and footholds
that had been chiseled out of the rock face made it anything less
than suicide.

When she reached the
inside of the cave she saw the reason he'd taken such precautions.
Orion knelt and lit an old-fashioned hurricane lamp, revealing a tidy
hide-out complete with supplies, bedding, and an arsenal of weapons.

She knelt next to the
lamp. "Let me see your leg." Orion had gone pale, and the
wound worried her. He'd recover from exertion, physical and magical,
but blood loss could kill him.

He rose to his feet,
his easy grace gone. His large hands seemed clumsy as they unbuckled
his heavy belt and lowered it to the floor. "There's a first-aid
kit in the corner. It's got pretty much everything in it."

She retrieved it, then
unrolled some of the bedding and gestured for him to sit. When he had
lowered himself gingerly to the bedroll, she unlaced his boots. "How
do you feel?"

"Tired." He
closed his eyes and submitted himself to her ministrations with a
trust she'd come to realize was unusual for him. "I need food
and a few hours' rest, and I'll be fine. The food more than the rest.
My body can't run like this for very long."

"I'll find
something as soon as I stop this bleeding." The cloth of his
pants stuck to his wound, and he winced as she pried it away as
gently as possible. She blotted it with gauze, but the cut was too
deep to knit up on its own. "Lie back."

He obeyed without
protest. "If you have to stitch it shut there's special thread
in there. Enchanted. Works better for werewolves."

"All right."
She ignored the first aid kit and curved her hand over the strong
line of his thigh. The spark of energy inside her sputtered before
she could bring it to the surface, drained by the night's exertions.
Finally, the magic flowed out of her and into him. "I just need
a second..."

The flesh mended under
her hand, but her own sigh of relief sounded distant. Her hand fell
away as she swayed.

"Shit." Orion
reached out and caught her, drawing her down to the bedding next to
him. "Fuck, Amaia, you didn't need to do that. I'd heal by
tomorrow."

"You're one to
judge." Her tongue felt heavy. "With all your talk of honor
and responsibility." She turned her face, unable to keep the
truth from her eyes.
I
couldn't let you hurt.

His fingers curled in
her hair and he urged her head back with a low groan moments before
his lips found hers. His kiss was hard and clumsy and a little rough,
but it spoke of a need more real, more
honest
,
than anything she'd ever felt.

Tears pricked her eyes
when the heat of his kiss washed energy through her, replenishing the
weary void her efforts had left behind. "I'm fine," she
whispered against his mouth. "Thank you. I'm okay."

"I'm not."
His teeth caught her lip for a moment, and he groaned again. "You're
hurt, and I'm not okay with that at all."

"I'm not one of
your responsibilities, Orion." Her heart pounded. She wasn't,
that much was true. But she
wanted
to be. She wanted to matter that much to him.

His thumb traced along
her jaw, soft and coaxing. "My interest in you isn't exactly
responsible. Sort of the opposite."

Desire exploded inside
her. "You're hurt."

"I
was
hurt."

"This is
temporary." She needed to hear him say it, if only to jar her
own wayward heart back to reality. "Soon, you'll go home. I
won't be there."

He growled against her
skin as his fingers skated down her stomach and edged under her
shirt. "If you don't want to be, you don't have to be."

She closed her eyes and
let her head drop back. "I don't want to be there."

His tongue dragged
across the fluttering pulse in her throat, and he chuckled. "Liar."

Amaia pulled out of his
arms and rose. She watched his face as she shed her clothing. She
stood naked in the lamplight for a moment before climbing onto his
lap to grind her body against his. "Do you really think I'm
lying, or do you just want me to be?"

"Do you want me to
pretend I can't tell?" His hand worked between them, brushing
against her as he worked at the fastening of his jeans. "You can
lie all you want, Amaia. I'll pretend to believe you. It doesn't mean
you don't want me. Don't want
this
."

When he'd opened his
pants, she traced the hard length of his cock with her fingertips. If
the feelings welling inside her were as simple as plain lust, she
wouldn't think twice about it. She bent her mouth to his ear and
sighed. "I want this. You."

"So take me."
His hands gripped her hips, but he let her take the lead. "Take
me, Amaia."

She shifted her body
over his, sucking in a sharp breath when he filled her. She wanted to
move, to ride him into oblivion, but stayed still instead. Her mouth
brushed his and retreated. "Do you want me there? With you?"

"Yes." He
growled and seized her mouth, his lips crushing against hers as his
tongue demanded entrance, demanded everything.

His tongue slid over
hers, the mating of their mouths reminiscent of the way they rocked
together. Amaia cried out as pleasure took her, and the world—and
the danger that lay ahead—faded. All that was left was Orion,
his hands and teeth on her skin, and his body deep inside hers.

He bit her chin when he
came, his groan shaking through her as his fingers clenched on her
hips and dragged her down into one last thrust. He whispered
something that might have been her name, but it was hard to tell with
the blood pounding in her ears.

She dropped her face to
his neck and panted. Belatedly, she realized she'd drawn no energy
from him. The pull hadn't come, even when she lost herself in
sensation. "Nothing happened."

It took him a few
seconds to reply, and even then his voice sounded unsteady. "Nothing
happened last time, either."

"But..." She
didn't know how to explain it to him. The hunger was always present,
if only in the background, and the need increased during sex until it
took over. Rigid control and conscious exertion were required to
prevent the transfer of sexual energy during orgasm. The only time
the connections didn't open automatically was when a bond had been
forged between mates.

But that wasn't
possible.

Troubled, she lifted a
hand to a sore spot on her neck. "Your Alpha talked about you
biting me."

"Mmm." His
fingers stroked down her hair. "People see it as ownership. It's
a mark. It made you mine, as far as he was concerned."

And what about as
far as you're concerned?
Amaia closed her eyes, unsure if she was ready to deal with the
answer to that question, no matter what it happened to be. Instead
she changed the subject. "You said you needed food, but you
should rest. I can find something."

"We should both
eat. And both rest." He eased her away and rose to his knees,
reaching our for his jeans. "It's not the best food.
Non-perishable, high energy. Mostly rations. It'll do."

She reached for her
shirt and underwear, her mind still reeling. "I'm used to it.
It's what we eat on maneuvers."

By the time she'd
dressed, he'd gathered up a healthy supply of food and some
additional bedding. He lowered himself to the ground next to her with
a good deal more grace than before, and the smile that curved his
lips as he offered her a foil-wrapped energy bar was warm. "You
pack quite a punch there with your magical healing."

"I didn't know if
I could," she admitted. "They only teach us how to heal
demons, and even that instruction is rudimentary. But it worked
better than I thought." Her own smile answered his, small and
hesitant. "You must be special."

"Or maybe
we're
special." He reached out and stroked her hair back from her
shoulder, a gentle gesture that turned possessive when his fingers
lingered on the back of her neck. "One left, and you're free."

"One who fights
like five." And with a very personal reason to win. "Orion,
there's something you need to know. About Itzal."

"Something more
than the fact that he fights like five men?"

She wanted to shake her
head and deny it. Instead, she raised her hand and covered his
fingers with her own. "He's my intended. The one I'm supposed to
marry."

The easy warmth in his
eyes faded to dull wariness as his hand fell away. "Oh."

"No." She
started to reach for him, then thought better of it. "It's not
like that. He chose me and, at the time, there really wasn't a reason
to say no."

"Oh," he said
again. He reached for a bottle of water and shifted to lean against a
box. "Killing him isn't going to be easy for you, then."

"He'll want me to
yield. To come back and marry him." Amaia opened the energy bar
in her hand. "When I refuse, he
will
try to kill me. And I have no problem with stopping him."

His expression told her
nothing as he nodded shortly. "Then we should get some rest."

All she could do was
nod in return. She ate silently, then drank the bottle of water he
gave her. Her hunger and thirst sated, she stretched out on the
bedding and stared at the jumping shadows on the cave wall.

She thought he might
talk to her, or say
something
.
But when she glanced at him after another half hour of silence, he
was feigning sleep with a dedication that made it clear he had
nothing else to say.

Miserable, Amaia curled
up and tucked her hands under her chin. She'd only wanted to warn
Orion. Instead, she'd reminded him how separate and different their
lives really were.

Chapter
Five

Orion studied the
disturbed pine-needles on the forest floor and cursed himself again
for the silence that had grown up between them. Amaia stood a few
paces behind him, stiff and uneasy as she watched their back trail,
and he could almost taste the misery rolling off her in waves.

Fool.
He
was
a fool, of that there could be no doubt. He'd lost himself in the
heat of her body and the pleasure of her touch, had lost himself in
the joy of having a
partner
,
someone who could meet him halfway and help him if he faltered. The
crushing weight of responsibility had eased a little in Amaia's arms,
and he'd fallen into them without a care for himself.