Chapter Eleven

The concept of modesty did not exist for Raith. And yet, as he stood there while Harrow’s gaze traveled over every inch of his naked skin, he fought a bizarre impulse to shy away from her.

Did she like what she saw? All he knew about his body was that it was strong and good for violence, and that he looked frightening to others. He had yet to consider it from the standpoint of how it might give pleasure.

He wanted to give Harrow pleasure. He needed to. But how? He had no memory of anything beyond that first day in the desert, and not one of the moments he’d lived since then included anything remotely close to this situation.

Instinctively, he knew what to do—or at least what he wanted to do—but was that what she wanted? The things he was imagining… Surely there was no way Harrow would want that. Would she? Or was he wrong in wanting them?

“Come here.” Her whispered words were seductive, yet a certain shyness lurked in her gaze.

He didn’t even consider hesitating, was crawling onto the bed over her before she’d even finished speaking. As soon as he was within reach, her hands lifted to touch him. They hesitated, trembling slightly, and he went still so as not to startle her. Soft palms landed on his chest and slid up to his shoulders. Her fingers clenched slightly around the muscles at the top before traveling over to his back.

Her eyes fell shut as if it brought her great pleasure just to have her hands on his skin. He stared at her in awe. He hadn’t even done anything, and she enjoyed it this much? Maybe he could do this after all.

“I want…” He trailed off as her hands traveled down his abdomen, the muscles jumping beneath her touch.

Her knuckles brushed the tip of his hardened sex.

He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but he couldn’t hide his reaction regardless. His hips jerked of their own accord, breath expelling from his lungs as if he’d been struck.

“What?” She watched him with that sultry gaze. A combination of vulnerability and seduction.

“Touch you,” was all he could manage.

She started to sit up, so he shifted back to let her, watching to see what she would do. Those slightly trembling fingers reached down and pulled her nightgown over her head, tossing it away.

His mouth went dry.

She glanced away, and her hands lifted to cover her breasts before she forced them back to her sides and met his gaze again. He couldn’t stop staring. He never wanted to stop staring.

Supple skin was lit lovingly by moonlight. Her breasts were heavy, her belly a soft curve. Her naked thighs parted to welcome him between them, and he followed her down as she lay back, tracing the swell of one full breast, watching in fascination as she arched into his hand with a sweet sigh.

She liked his touch. She liked his eyes upon her. It was too perfect to possibly be real, yet he refused to waste a second doubting his good fortune.

The passion in her silver eyes gave him confidence, and he flattened his palm on her sternum, sliding it over to cup her other breast. The way the flesh overfilled his palm appealed to some ancient, primal part of him he hadn’t known existed until now. Such a simple thing—womanly flesh overflowing his grip—made him want to growl with satisfaction. It lit a fire in him he had no idea how to control.

He wanted to be closer, as close as it was possible to be. And then closer than even that. He wanted to sink so deep into her warmth he lost himself completely.

Lifting her arms, Harrow wrapped them as far around his shoulders as she could reach and pulled him down to her lips again. His hands continued to travel hungrily over her body as they kissed. She kneaded the muscles of his back, digging her nails into his skin.

He wanted more. Something. Everything. Just more.

He nipped gently at the skin of her neck as she tilted her head back to expose her soft throat to him. So delicate. So vulnerable. She would snap like a twig under his fingers if he lost control for a second. He would die before that happened.

He dragged his mouth down her chest and paused at her breast, suddenly doubting his desires. Lifting his head, he met her gaze. “Kiss?”

She dropped her head back. “Yes. Kiss.”

He sucked her nipple into his mouth, pleased at her responsive moan. He did it to the other one, too, and received the same reaction. Emboldened, he gripped her supple backside and squeezed.

“I want…” Did he even know what he wanted?

He wanted her. Her head thrown back, crying with pleasure as he tasted the very core of her.

“Yes,” she breathed, though she couldn’t possibly know what he was thinking.

He worked his way farther down her body until his mouth hovered above her abdomen. He ground his hips into the mattress, dragging his erection painfully over the scratchy blankets in an attempt to calm his fervent desires. Unable to deny the urge, he snaked his tongue out to trace the arch of her hipbone down until he reached the soft hair between her thighs.

He forced himself to stop, lift his head. Did she want what he did?

Their gazes met, and she nodded mutely.

Okay, then. Sliding the rest of the way down until his mouth was inches from her glistening core, he froze a moment, staring in awe at the wonder before him. His short memories had been nothing but misery until he’d met her, and now this?

She was laid out naked before him like a succulent feast, her legs spread wide, her hands fondling her own breasts as she watched him with naked desire. It was too good to be true, too impossible to be real.

She squirmed. “Raith…”

He used his fingers to part her folds, baring her even further to his hungry gaze. Hungry? No. Ravenous was perhaps a better description of how he felt looking upon her. She moaned at the exposure, writhing in his grip.

Lowering his head, he licked once up her center, assessing her reaction. It was a languid moan. A good sign. He did it again. “More, Raith— Oh.” He kissed her, sucking her tender flesh between his lips. Repeating the motion, he was rewarded with more gasps and moans.

Her back arched off the mattress as he slid a finger inside her silken, wet heat. Beyond all compare. Sucking her flesh again, he added another finger, wanting her to lose control. He was amply rewarded by her cries, so he sucked again. And again, until she was moaning ecstatically and saying his name.

She begged him repeatedly not to stop, which was odd because he’d given no indication he had any such plans. It was the opposite. He wasn’t sure he could stop at this point. He assured her of this by working his fingers in and out of her like he longed to do with his shaft, all the while sucking on that luscious nub of flesh. Her head thrashed about, her body trembling and writhing. She was so responsive, it was easy to discover how to pleasure her.

She cried out his name as she went over, the muscles of her inner walls spasming around his fingers. Finally, gasping for breath, she pushed his head away, unable to take more.

He obliged, content to let her lead this. For now.

She tugged on his shoulders, so he allowed her to guide him back up. Their lips met, and he shared her sweet, salty flavor with her. The idea that she was tasting the release she had spilled over his tongue made him feel such a sense of primal satisfaction that he pulled back from the kiss, withdrew his fingers from inside her, and then pressed them to her lips.

He watched in heady fascination as she sucked them inside. It was his turn to moan. The sensation on his hand went straight to his cock, until he was unconsciously rolling his hips and imagining her lips sliding over— No. He wouldn’t think of that.

“Your turn,” she murmured, slipping free of his fingers. Placing her palms on his chest, she pushed to roll them.

He ended up on his back, Harrow straddling his hips, her naked body gleaming in the moonlight. Shadows fell beneath her full breasts and below the softness of her belly. Unbidden, his hands lifted to grip her hips tightly. He was already imagining her sliding down his length from this position, her head thrown back while he sat up to suck her breasts—

She interrupted his fantasy by crawling down his body, trailing her mouth over him, much the same way he had done to her. Surely she didn’t intend to…?

All thought vanished as her small hand curled around his erection. It was his turn to throw his head back and moan, hips thrusting involuntarily into her grip.

When he opened his eyes again, she was poised right over him, her eyes locked on his sex, mouth inches away.

She was going to use her mouth on him. No, she wouldn’t possibly. But it really looked that way. She licked her lips, wetting them with a sheen of saliva. Please, he almost begged, but wouldn’t dare say a word to coax her into this if it wasn’t what she wanted. Surely she would never—

Her lips wrapped over the head and slid down his length.

A sound such as he’d never made before was torn from his throat, and his eyes rolled back, only to snap sharply into focus again. He couldn’t bear to miss a second of this. She held him firmly at the base, palms rising to meet her lips as they worked their way down.

Another moan was torn from him. This was indescribable. She was perfection, and he would destroy anyone who touched her. He would rend the flesh of any who dared to threaten her to tiny, bloody shreds. He would eviscerate entire armies—

Her mouth popped off the top with a tiny suction sound, and his mind blanked.

Those sultry lips slid back down again. He thought he might die from pleasure. His hips flexed, hands clenching in the blankets. She was a temptress. Nay, a goddess. It took everything he had not to thrust hard into her mouth.

Her fingers tightened around the base, the bottom hand reaching down to cup his sack, massaging gently as she slid her mouth down and swallowed him deep. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, and she moaned, the vibration sending a wave of sensation down his shaft.

He couldn’t help it. If she was trying to drive him mad, she had succeeded. All rational thought flew out the window, and he reached up, buried his fingers in her thick hair, and then thrust his hips into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked. He moaned. So did she.

He thrust again. And again.

Gripping her hair, he tightened his fingers until he knew it had to pull, but he couldn’t make himself loosen his grip. He worked himself in and out of her mouth again and again until he soared over the edge into oblivion.

The climax burst out of him, catching him by surprise. Perhaps if he’d remembered ever climaxing before, he might have felt its approach, but he didn’t. It was a new experience. A strangled shout tore from him. A surprised, strangled shout, because he’d never expected it to feel this incredible. Eyes rolling back, colorful lights bursting in the blackness, the orgasm pumped through him and released right into Harrow’s perfect mouth.

It seemed to go on forever. He wasn’t certain he didn’t pass out for a moment.

When he came back to reality, Harrow was climbing up his body to collapse on the bed beside him. He turned to his side and drew her into his arms, squeezing her against him. Maybe he clutched her too tightly, but he was shaking all over, and she seemed to be the only thing that could ground him. Neither of them spoke.

Then he remembered the way he had yanked on her hair and thrust so fervently into her mouth, and shame suffused him. He sat up on an elbow to study her face. “Did I hurt you?”

She smiled. Her eyelids were droopy, and her lips curved. She shook her head lazily.

He frowned, unconvinced.

She stroked a soothing palm down his chest. “You didn’t. I swear. I liked it.”

She had liked it. He allowed her to push him back down to the bed. But he didn’t relax completely. “I haven’t…before now… I don’t remember—”

“I know. I figured that out.”

“I wanted to please you.”

“You did.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Not a worry about that.”

He relaxed further.

“I wanted to please you.” She pressed her cheek against his chest. “You haven’t told me much, but I gather you haven’t had much pleasure in a while.”

“I have no memory beyond a month and a half ago.”

It was Harrow’s turn to sit up and stare down at him. “You don’t remember anything at all?”

He shook his head.

“I figured you had some kind of memory loss, but I never realized…” Her eyes were wide. “What happened? What was the first thing you remember?”

“I awoke in the desert at midday. I didn’t know where I was.”

“Must have been somewhere in the South. Then what happened?”

“I was near death when the flesh traders found me. I tried to fight back, but I was too weak. They chained me and put me in the cage and took me to Allegra, where I was sold to Salizar.”

“Raith, that’s awful. I’m so sorry you went through that.” Her eyes were full of sympathy and softness. Somehow, her reaction comforted him. She was giving him solace he hadn’t realized he needed.

“That’s it?” she asked. “That’s all you remember?” He nodded. “Has anything seemed familiar to you?”

He thought about this for a moment. “When I first awoke in the desert, I felt that my body was separate from me. And earlier, when you made me promise…”

Harrow’s gaze softened again. “That promise meant something bigger to you than I realized, didn’t it?”

He nodded, shifting his gaze to the ceiling. “I don’t know how I know this, but once given, my word is binding. The promise felt like chains.”

“Goddess, Raith, I never wanted you to—”

“I know. That’s why I gave you the vow anyway. I trust you.”

She smiled. “Thank you for your trust. I won’t betray it.”

“I know.”

A crease appeared between her brows. “Your unbreakable word… Is that why you don’t like to speak much? To protect yourself from saying something that might bind you?”

He nodded. “But I didn’t know that until tonight.”

“It must have been instinctive, then. I wonder what you were like before you lost your memories. Did you like to speak more?”

“I don’t think I spoke at all unless I was forced.”

“What do you mean? How do you know that?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Did you just remember something?”

He shook his head. A head that suddenly ached as he tried to recall. “I don’t—” He lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “It feels painful to try to remember.”

“Don’t, then.” Harrow pulled his hand from his face and threaded their fingers together. “It doesn’t matter.” She brought their joined hands up to her lips and kissed his fingers one by one.

“What if it does?”

Physically, he was much bigger and more powerful than her, and yet when she gave him that soft look or stroked her small hands down his body, it was as though she seized control over his entire being. His very soul lay curled and resting in the palm of her hand.

“We’ll figure it out,” she promised, meeting his gaze. “Together.”

He nodded. He could only hope that whatever they learned didn’t break her heart or shatter her trust in him.

Harrow lay back down and snuggled against him, breathing a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. As he lay there, full of more peace and contentment than he’d ever felt, a memory surfaced of the night Salizar had caught Harrow in his tent. A haunting wisp, it came as if to mar the perfect intimacy of the moment.

On the off chance that he is actually a wraith, Salizar had said, no matter how small or unlikely, would you still wish to care for such a creature?

Never, Harrow had whispered fiercely, eyes burning with sudden hatred. I would die first.

…

Against all odds, Malaikah made it back to the fairgrounds without incident. She even managed to pick up Harrow’s horse and drop it off at the stables first. Their plan seemed flimsy, but she had to believe it would work. If Salizar caught Raith again…

He would what? Force him to perform at the circus? Kill him? She supposed it wasn’t worth the risk of finding out, though she wished Harrow hadn’t thrown away her entire life for a man she’d just met with a predilection for violence.

Never taken a life, my ass. Raith was a walking nightmare. Terror on two legs.

But he did look at Harrow like she’d hung the moon, and Malaikah believed he’d cut down an entire army and then himself before he let anything hurt her. It was the only reason Mal had helped with this plan and not gone straight to Salizar once things had started to go south earlier. As abhorrent as the idea of betraying her best friend was, she would have done it if she believed for a second that Harrow was in danger.

Pushing open the window in her caravan, Malaikah scented the air, and yep, there it was. The unmistakable scent of Enchanter sweeping the grounds. Salizar had freed Loren from the cage and would likely come straight here as soon as he confirmed Harrow’s caravan was empty. He would suspect Mal’s involvement, and he’d be right.

She stripped off her clothes and stuffed them into the wardrobe, throwing her nearly naked body into bed. She wasn’t shy, and if strutting around in her underwear threw Salizar off his game, then all the better for her. Pulling the blankets up, she curled her tail around herself and shut her eyes, trying to slow her breathing.

About thirty seconds later, there was a raucous banging on her caravan door. She tensed, heart immediately racing again, but didn’t get up immediately. She was a deep sleeper, and if she’d actually been asleep, it would take a lot more than that to wake her.

Further banging sounded. She winced. Okay, that would have woken her. It sounded as though he was using the end of his staff to break the damn door down.

Tapping into her best performer skills, Malaikah dragged herself out of bed and made a great show of yawning and stretching as she trudged to the door. Yes, Salizar couldn’t see her yet, but the more she got into character now, the more believable she’d be. She opened the door, peering at the enraged man standing outside through squinted eyes.

“Where is she, Malaikah.”

Yep, he was pissed. The threat of being struck by lightning with his witch stick was so thinly veiled, little sparks were shooting out the tip. He was so tall, their eyes were level though he stood at the bottom of the steps. His piercing blue gaze could instill fear into the hearts of the bravest men.

Good thing she wasn’t a man.

“Who?” Malaikah yawned and stretched languidly, leaning suggestively against the doorframe, tail swinging lazily behind her. She wore only knickers and a bralette from one of her racier costumes.

Salizar’s jaw clenched. Affected by the exposed skin, Sal? Maybe there was a hot-blooded male in him after all. “Harrow. Where is she?”

“Isn’t she in her caravan?”

“Don’t be coy. I know you’re in on whatever she was planning.”

“Sal, it’s late, and I’m not even fully awake. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

But Salizar wasn’t buying it. Climbing up the steps to the threshold, he loomed over her, forcing her to step back as he let himself into the caravan.

Her eyes widened a little. Okay, he was seriously pissed.

“Tell me where she is, Malaikah.”

“I don’t know, Salizar.”

He forced her back another step, reaching behind him to slam the door shut.

Damn. Maybe the lack of clothing wasn’t such a great idea after all.

No, she refused to be intimidated by him. If he came at her, she’d use her claws if she had to. Take a page from Raith’s bloodthirsty book.

“Where. Is. She.”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

He banged the staff on the floor, and another shower of sparks shot out the end. “Don’t fuck with me.”

“Look, even if I knew where Harrow was, I wouldn’t tell you. Especially with you barging in here waving that damned thing around.”

“You do realize what she’s done? Do you know what the creature she absconded with is?”

Mal shrugged, feigning calm. In reality, her heart was trying to crawl its way up her throat. “Harrow says she trusts him, so I trust him. If they took off, it was probably for a good reason.”

“Harrow is deluded by her infatuation. I’m trying to protect her, not punish her.”

“Look, I already told you I don’t know—”

“Save it,” Salizar snapped. “Instead, let me tell you why I’m confident I am—was—in possession of a real wraith.”

“Wraiths are incorporeal. You can’t hold them in a cage. If they even exist, that’s the number one thing everyone knows about them.”

“Yes. Unless someone found a way to trap one in its physical form.”

“Which would take buckets of magic.”

“The kind of magic possessed by, say”—he gave a telling lift of his brow—“an Elemental Queen.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Let me tell you a story, Malaikah. Shall we sit?” Salizar spun, long coat whooshing around him, and took a seat at the table. He removed his hat and ruffled his dark hair. The tips of his pointed ears were distinguishable between the thick strands, and his vivid blue gaze tracked her intently. He sprawled sideways on the bench seat, long legs not even close to fitting under the table.

This tall, imposing man in her tiny caravan looked decidedly incongruous. Yet he sat there like he owned the place. Which he kind of did.

She gritted her teeth and bit back a snarl. Though she’d never tell him in a million years, Sal had successfully intimidated her, the bastard. Grabbing a robe from the closet, Malaikah wrapped it around herself and sat opposite him.

“As you know, the eradication of the Seers began a century or so ago,” he began without preamble. “Roughly fifty years ago, the last remaining clan was making their way back to Darya’s territory when tragedy struck. A wraith descended upon their camp at night and killed all, save one. A small girl, aged ten.” There was a knowing in those piercing blue eyes, and it clicked.

“You knew,” Malaikah breathed. “You’ve known who she was all along.”

“Yes.”

And he’d never said a word to either of them, had been content to protect Harrow’s secret all these years without a whisper of acknowledgment. Malaikah could only stare at him.

“To this day,” Salizar continued, “no one is quite sure why an unfeeling, incorporeal assassin disobeyed its mistress and spared the life of an innocent child. The story spread like wildfire, each retelling more grandiose than the last, until it was regarded as nothing but a silly rumor and faded into oblivion. But as we know, Harrow, the last surviving Seer, is no rumor.”

“And neither are the wraiths. I get it. But how does this prove anything?”

One dark brow lifted. “I’m not finished yet. After the obliteration of her bloodline, Queen Darya set about exacting her own revenge. She was determined to find a way to destroy Furie’s Elementals the way Furie destroyed hers.”

Mal shook her head. “And the cycle continues…” The bloody Queens and their petty squabbling were the cause of so much death and suffering, and it wasn’t fucking fair.

“Indeed.”

“I thought wraiths were unkillable.”

“Nothing is unkillable. The wraith that spared Harrow’s life was savagely punished by Furie for its disobedience, which greatly weakened it, providing Darya the perfect opportunity to capture it. She spent the next fifty years searching for a way to destroy the wraith before she was finally successful.”

“Which brings us to today, then.”

“Yes. Darya discovered how to permanently bind the wraith to his corporeal form, making him vulnerable and, therefore, killable. Unfortunately, during the transformation, he was cast from her prison in a magical explosion and disappeared. She believed the wraith had escaped, until recently, when I received word of a creature for sale in Allegra that fit the description.”

“You’re saying…Raith.”

Salizar nodded.

“Is actually a wraith.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Malaikah’s blood went cold. “But how do you know this whole story with Darya is true? You can’t have spoken to her directly. No one’s heard from the Queens in years.”

“I think it’s time you understand who I am, Malaikah. I allow others to believe I’m nothing but a wandering Enchanter seeking his place in a new world where our kind has become outcasts. While that is partly true, I am also an emissary of Queen Audra, dispatched with orders to protect stray Elementals from subjugation and consequent eventual extinction. Running this circus is my royally decreed duty, not just a hobby I entertain.”

Malaikah gaped at him, seeing the tall, imposing Enchanter in a new light. She’d always known he was powerful. Few Enchanters could create a weapon as potent as his staff. But she’d never suspected he was on a secret mission from the Air Queen.

“But that would mean…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. What did it mean?

“It means the Queens are still involved in our world and are trying to change things. As soon as Darya lost the wraith, she sent word out, asking for help locating her missing prisoner. Audra came to me. I was to find the wraith, contain it, and travel west to deliver it to Darya, where it would be destroyed.”

Mal could only stare. “Sweet Mother Goddess.”

Salizar stared right back at her, those brilliant blue eyes drilling his point into her head.

“But why…” She couldn’t accept this. There had to be another explanation. “Harrow said she sensed Raith was innocent. That he hadn’t killed before. If he’s the one who killed her whole family, then how…?” The idea of Harrow running around with her mother’s murderer was enough to make her sick.

“I don’t know why Harrow believes what she does. Perhaps she is fixated on him because she instinctively senses the connection he has to her lost family. Perhaps her mind, broken by tragedy, has sought closure so desperately that it turned that connection into desire.”

Malaikah stared at Salizar, hating how this made sense. Was it possible Harrow was wrong about Raith? But no, this was way too big. Her power, the Water, was supposed to be wise and all-knowing. It would have told her if Raith was dangerous, if Raith had killed her family, for the Goddess’s sake. It would have.

Wouldn’t it?

Salizar stood suddenly, causing Malaikah to jump. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts tonight. I will continue my search for Harrow and the wraith and won’t push you further for your cooperation. However, I warn you that I’ll do everything in my power to uncover them. I’ve already sent word to Audra about their escape and have no doubt she will pass on the news to Darya, who will likely—”

“Wait. Darya knows about Harrow too?”

“Who do you think sent me to find the ten-year-old Seer orphan in the first place?”

Mal stared at him with her mouth hanging open.

“As I was saying, think about what I’ve told you. Is Harrow’s life worth endangering for this? How devastated do you think she’d be to learn the truth? If you change your mind, come to me at any time.”

He put his hat back atop his head and crossed the caravan, throwing open the tiny door and stooping to pass through. At the last second, he turned back. “I run this circus to protect Elementals and give them a chance at a better life. I know who you are and who your family was, Malaikah. I know who you’re running from. Why do you think they’ve never caught up with you after all these years, though your face is plastered across every poster for our show?”

“I—I never thought…” She honestly hadn’t considered it. She’d always thought Kambu was too deep in the South to be in contact with the other cities they traveled to.

“The truth is that those who wish you harm are very aware of where you are, but they don’t dare target you while you’re under my protection. I have killed more than a few would-be assassins found lurking around my circus, and I will continue to eliminate any threat to you or anyone here. I protect my own, Malaikah. Always remember that.”

And he swept out the door, leaving Malaikah sitting at the table with her eyes wide with shock and her heart full of doubt.