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If he lived another three hundred years, Drago would never understand women. He felt her tremble, could sense her misery, had even heard her crying—yet she refused to admit it. Then, suddenly, she flashed an elated grin at him. He couldn’t fathom the change in her.
Nor could he understand what she could possibly have to feel happy about, as each evening brought her closer to her doom.
She started to hum, and his heart played cruel tricks on him at the sound. He pushed out a heavy breath and urged Lagos faster. The sooner he delivered her to his Master, the better.
Was it, really?
The thought brought him up short. What choice did he have? As much as he disliked the inevitable outcome of this assignment, he had no recourse. If he failed, the Demon would simply destroy them both. He would come after them, and Drago could not defend her if he was dead.
The image of him standing in front of her, sword at the ready, flashed through his mind. Yes, he would dearly love to defend her from all enemies. But even he had no power against his Master. Serve or die. It was more like serve and die.
Her humming stopped, and he was grateful for the silence. What was it about this maiden that made his traitorous heart dream of impossible things? Why did she affect him so?
When he’d first realized she was crying, his initial conclusion had been that she’d finally understood her fate—it finally hit her that her days were numbered. But when the crying continued, heart-wrenchingly silent sobs of intense suffering, he’d been at a loss. He was hardly suited to offer comfort, even if he thought she would accept it. Even if it might turn into a real kiss this time.
Drago straightened in the saddle. He couldn’t think along those lines any longer. He couldn’t imagine her soft, full lips pressed against his. How sweet she’d taste.
He closed his eyes and took a centering breath, reminding himself of his purpose. He had nothing to offer her, and it was dangerous to pretend otherwise.
Perhaps that’s why she’d wept, because she realized that as well. If so, then what had made her so happy afterward? Because he certainly didn’t feel like humming.
The trees hid the sunlight almost completely from view, but the ache in his lower back told him it was time to make camp. After years of hard living, he knew his body’s indicators well. The Demon had prolonged his life, but, true to form, had not extinguished his suffering.
The air had turned decidedly crisp, another signal of evening. It would only get cooler the higher they climbed, at least until they began to descend into Hell’s Gate—his own nickname for the Demon’s lair. That would be more than warm enough.
The maiden didn’t protest as he dismounted Lagos first, then lifted her to the ground. She felt good in his arms, deceptively right, and he paused a moment to savor it despite his better judgement. It didn’t matter in the long run. Whether he liked it or not, she would soon be dead and he would be back about his Master’s business.
That was the true hell. No matter what believers taught their children, each person made their own misery—their own hell. He knew that better than anyone.
“I’ll be right back.” Her soft voice carried back to him from over her shoulder as she turned away. He watched her go before taking care of Lagos. She didn’t come back until the unicorn had been watered, unsaddled, and thoroughly rubbed down.
“Are you all right?” he asked her for the second time that day.
“Yes.” She sat on a low rock, her chin went up when she looked at him. “If you must know, I was praying for guidance.”
He turned so she wouldn’t see his smile at her challenge. He probably shouldn’t enjoy her spirit so much. “Guidance for what? Your future has already been decided, Maiden.”
“Not by me, or the Demon, but by God.” Her whispered declaration carried over the distance.
He admitted to himself that he longed to goad her. He wanted to see that fire in her eyes when she’d spar with him. Just as he opened his mouth, the idea died. It would only hurt him more in the long run if he fell deeper now.
Still, he couldn’t stop the denial. “Your God has nothing to do with your fate, now. That trinket around your wrist has more say in it than any god does.”
Instead of arguing with him, she only looked at him. “Perhaps.”
He wondered what thoughts had hatched in her mind that would make her say that one word with such conviction. She couldn’t be considering running away, could she? She’d be a fool to tempt the bracelet’s power in such a way.
He knew she wasn’t a fool, so he dismissed that thought. He dug food out of the saddlebags and approached her. He wanted to ease her mind, thinking that perhaps panic at what the Demon would do to her had caused her to imagine there was a way out.
She accepted the food he offered. “Thank you.”
Drago sat on the ground next to her. “Are you considering making the Demon an offer, like I did?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He nodded, relieved. “It would do you no good. You have nothing to offer him that he has not already planned to take.”
Her head fell forward in a sort of half-nod. “I know. I don’t plan to bargain with that foul creature.”
His mouth twisted in a little smile. How like her to refuse to use his Master’s title. “Accepting what’s in store for you will only make it go easier for you.” He turned to face her, his expression serious. “I won’t lie to you, Maiden. There will be pain, but it will be brief.” The last maiden the Demon claimed didn’t last more than a few moments before her life was spent. This maiden, however, had strength that other women could only dream of possessing. Drago worried that her strength would only cause her pain in the end.
Her eyes didn’t so much as flicker. “I’m not afraid of pain.”
“He will try to ignite your fear first,” he told her. “He feeds on terror.”
Her gaze remained steady. “I’m not afraid.”
“There is no shame in fear, Maiden,” he said, leaning away from her slightly. “If you give in to the fear, then he will not make you suffer overly.”
“I will not become a blubbering idiot to please your Master,” she shot back, her voice intense.
His attempt to calm her wasn’t working at all. “Denying your fear won’t make it go away. He will draw it out of you, regardless of your attempts to hide it.”
“I’m not afraid of him anymore,” she repeated.
She meant it. He sucked in a breath as he realized that. She truly didn’t fear the Demon.
Drago shook his head at her. “You still don’t understand . . .”
She leaned forward and put a soft hand on his cheek and he froze, unable to complete his thoughts.
“It is you who doesn’t understand, Drago,” she said softly, her voice soothing and calm. “I know now what I must do, and because I know, I have no fear.”
He grasped her hand to pull it away, but couldn’t. “He wants your fear—needs your fear.”
“Then he will have to be disappointed.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek before rising and walking away.
Drago couldn’t move. She’d kissed him—innocently and with the air of someone who’d only kissed relatives, but still she kissed him. The simple act had rendered him incapable of thought or motion. He couldn’t even follow her in the hopes of receiving another kiss.
Lagos whinnied and he forced himself to turn. The maiden stood at the unicorn’s head, stroking his nose. Drago bit his lip to keep from laughing. She’d refused to ride the beast at first and now treated him as a friend.
And why was he suddenly jealous of Lagos?
He shook his head to clear it, replaying their conversation in his mind. She couldn’t really grasp what was in store for her, otherwise she wouldn’t be so calm. Of course, he’d never met anyone quite like her. Perhaps she was more than a match for his Master.
What would happen if she stood before the Demon without an inkling of fear? His Master’s fury would shake the mountains. He would be cheated of the energy he’d hoped to gain from her. What would that do to his plans?
Drago acknowledged the twinge of satisfaction he felt at the thought. Even a Demon deserved to be thwarted once in a while.
Would this woman be able to accomplish all of that? He didn’t know, but he longed to find out.
One thing, however, he didn’t have to wonder about. After all, she’d opened the door.
Drago got to his feet in one fluid motion and strode to her. Lagos whinnied a warning of his approach and she turned just in time for him to take her in his arms—which he did without hesitation.
“Never tease a warrior, Maiden,” he said, his voice hoarse with anticipation.
She didn’t utter a word, but her eyes reflected a sense of alarm. So he waited, slowly suffocating the distance between their bodies into nonexistence—giving her plenty of opportunity to pull away.
Her hands gripped the front of his armor and her eyelashes fluttered. Her breaths came in quick, short gasps of expectation—all the encouragement he needed.
Drago felt the first sweet touch of her lips against his, and his senses exploded. He deepened the kiss, marveling at how perfectly she fit against him. Her hands wrapped around his neck and she moaned low in her throat. He almost lost his reason then and there.
He’d only meant to explore, to taste, to satisfy his curiosity, but her eager response stole his reserve. He kissed her thoroughly, repeatedly, one hand firmly on the back of her head to prevent escape.
Not that she tried.
When at last he felt the last vestige of control slipping away, he pulled back to admire his work. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth slightly open, her eyes closed tight. Her panting matched his. He knew he should let her go, walk away, gain a semblance of control, but in that solitary moment he couldn’t walk away from her to save his life.
He wanted nothing more than to kiss her again. And again. Forever.
That final thought brought him back to reality with a violent jolt. Why did he keep flirting with disaster? He ran a finger along her jawline, watched her eyes open and take him in. He could swear she sucked his soul right out of his body, if he thought he still had possession of it. Whatever was left inside him belonged to her.
And it would die with her.
No. The denial came swift and hot. He tightened his grip on her, pressing her even closer to him. But how could he stop it?
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
How he wanted to tease her, between kisses of course. She’d started it with that innocent peck on his cheek. How could he not be expected to finish it? He was still a man, after all.
Cold dread tightened the muscles on his shoulders, and he felt the hood of his cloak slide over his head. He dropped his hands so quickly she staggered, he put out an arm to steady her. The question in her eyes made him shake his head at her. He put a finger on her lips, begging her to be silent.
He had to perform for his Master, and could not afford even the sweetest of distractions.
So you finally kissed her. His Master’s voice sounded amused. She must indeed be a matchless female specimen.
He knew? Just like that? I am sorry, my Master.
It is of no consequence. I, at least, risk nothing. The tone grew warning. Just don’t spoil her, Warrior. I require much from this maiden.
Yes, Master. I know.
I sense you are close. This pleases me. Toy with her if you must, but do not get carried away. I would be most displeased if you do.
Yes, Master.
The hood fell back. Drago took a step away from her, cursing the Demon in his heart. That foul creature had managed to taint the best thing to happen to him in over three hundred years. Filthy wretch.
He looked up at her, took in her hesitation and confusion. She wouldn’t understand, couldn’t understand, the war waging within him. He’d risked defying the Demon for her. He still considered it.
If it killed him to see her safely delivered from his Master, wouldn’t it be worth it?
***
Genna watched Drago, still trying to calm her racing heart. She was confused, but hopeful. Could a man kiss a woman with such passion if he didn’t love her?
Then the Demon had interrupted them, just when she felt she was getting through to him. Now Drago looked at her as something akin to poison. His expression was fierce, but she didn’t know how much of that was directed at her and how much was a response to his Master’s call.
She swallowed her doubt and stepped toward him, one hand outstretched. Please, she begged with her eyes, don’t rebuff me. He didn’t move, his eyes darting from her face to her hand and back again. He had the look of a cornered wild animal, and it took all of her courage to not turn away from him.
Genna put her hand on his arm. “Are you all right?”
He closed the distance with a weak laugh, dropping his forehead to hers. “You will ruin me, Maiden.”
Call me Gennavieve. The plea died on her tongue. How sweet her name would sound from his mouth! But she couldn’t tell him the truth, not yet.
But how could he love her if he didn’t even know her name?
Genna pushed back the concern, her goal now only to rebuild the moment that had been shattered by the Demon’s presence. If only he would kiss her again, make her knees go weak. Then she would be content.
He did not kiss her, but wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to him. Something remained between them, a coldness that hadn’t been there before. Genna didn’t know how to make it go away.
Drago lowered his head and she felt his eyelashes flutter against her cheek. She nuzzled against him, encouraging the contact.
“Tell me what I can do,” she whispered. “I want to help you.”
That brought a laugh, though it was more of a bark. “You can do nothing.”
But I can, she thought. We can. Together. If only you will allow it.
Steeling herself, she asked, “Why did you kiss me?”
He pulled back and met her eyes. “You tempted me. I decided not to fight it.”
Genna absorbed the sting his words caused, certain there had to be more to it than that. She chose not to let him offend her. Drawing him out would be difficult enough. “Do you think you’ll be tempted again?”
“I’m tempted right now,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face. “But this is dangerous ground we’re treading. You have no idea how my Master works.”
“Your Master isn’t controlling us,” she argued gently. “We aren’t his puppets.”
His laugh was harsh. “Of course we are. He just confirmed as much. He knew I would kiss you.”
She fretted over that a moment. “Did he know I would kiss you?”
Genna swallowed her pride and raised herself on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his before he could protest. In a heartbeat, he joined her in the kiss, drawing her even closer as his lips caressed hers over and over. Genna sighed. If they had a lifetime together, she would never tire of his kisses.
He pulled her arms from his neck and stepped back long before she’d finished. “No, we cannot continue this way.”
“Why?” she asked as the sting of rejection stabbed at her.
Drago regarded her for a long moment. “Are you toying with me, Maiden? Am I to be your last hurrah before you resign yourself to the Demon?”
She shook her head, hoping to convey her earnestness. “I would never do that.”
He brushed a tendril of hair from her face, the gentleness of his touch belying the harshness of his response. “You don’t know what you want.”
“I do.” Genna fit her fingers around the edges of the front of his leather armor and tried to draw him closer, but only succeeded in pulling herself toward him. “I’ve never been so certain of anything in my life.”
His fathomless eyes bore into her, and even though it felt like he could read her every secret, she did not squirm or pull away. She wanted him to see her, truly see her. She had to know that he understood the depth of her commitment.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said at last. “What you want, what I want—it’s all meaningless. The Demon will have his way. He always has his way.”
She saw it in his words, in his face when he looked at her, the crack in his defenses. He did feel something for her, she was certain of it. If he didn’t care for her, then it would be a simple matter to enjoy her kisses and then hand her over to the Demon without the slightest qualm.
He dropped his head gently to rest on her forehead. “In another life, perhaps we could have had a future. I will carry your memory with me for the rest of my days.”
That sounded so final, like a farewell, that it only made Genna cling to him more. She didn’t know the right thing to say, nothing in her life had prepared her for this. Though she was certain this was God’s plan for her, certain that it was right and that she was there for a divine reason, she didn’t know how to articulate that to Drago in a way he would understand. He was, after all, a non-believer.
“We don’t have to say goodbye,” she whispered.
But he misunderstood. “Not yet, anyway. We have this time together.” He nuzzled her neck, his tone turning playful. “I will need the fuel for my memories.”
He kissed her again before she could explain, and her toes curled in delight.