She rested her heavy head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as that swelling warmth expanded inside her. “What’s happening to me?”
He buried his nose in her hair and whispered low in her ear, “Shh. Just let go. You’re mine now.”
Chapter 10
Paul felt like a god. They weren’t even completely united yet, and already she had changed his life. The pain was gone. Vanished. Strength surged through his body with every beat of his heart. Sure, he didn’t have as much blood as he was supposed to, but it hardly mattered. Andra was in his arms, and he felt invincible, like he could beat down an entire nest of Synestryn single handedly and not break a sweat.
Her body felt good against him and he didn’t want to set her down. Not ever. He could feel the sleek firmness of muscles in her back and thighs, while the gentle swell of her breasts was so soft and yielding against his chest. Her short hair tickled his nose, baby fine and feather soft. And she smelled so good.
A man could lose himself in a woman like her and never feel deprived, never want for anything.
He had to stake his claim and make it final. A little twinge of guilt made him pause, but he brushed it away as inconsequential. She had no idea what she was getting into, but he couldn’t let that stop him. Not anymore. She’d taken his luceria of her own free will, and he wasn’t going to let that miracle pass by. Not now, and probably not ever. He needed her too much. She had to stay with him. Be his. Belong to him and only him. He’d make sure she’d never regret it.
Something about that thought process was off, but he didn’t care. It was time.
Paul laid her down on the couch, knelt beside her, and pulled his shirt off over his head.
Andra smiled and leaned toward him, purring. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down across his lifemark. The branches swayed in reaction to her touch, and the single leaf he had left shivered. Her fingers were warm and curled against his flesh, kneading his muscles.
Paul’s body responded predictably to a gorgeous woman’s caress. His skin flushed hot and his dick hardened, making him wish he could lose the jeans, too. She was so pretty lying there, stroking him, staring at him as if he were the only man on the face of the planet. All he wanted to do was strip away her clothes and spread those long legs out so he could touch her, taste her, make her come just for him.
Oh, yeah. That was definitely a good plan.
But not until their ties were complete. Unbreakable. Not like what he’d had with Kate. Once Andra was his, he’d do all of that and more.
His sword was right at his side, ready and waiting as always. He gathered her hands and held them still so she wouldn’t accidentally get cut as he drew the blade. “My life for yours,” he told her as he sliced a thin cut over his heart, signifying his willingness to shed his blood for her. The promise filled him up, made him feel stronger, whole. He’d do anything to protect her, and because she had taken his luceria, he would live long enough to fulfill that purpose.
He pressed his finger against the cut and smudged a bit of blood against the luceria. It shrank to fit close to her skin, the colors once again swirling frantically. Blue. There was more blue now than any other color.
Disbelief rattled through him, freezing him in place and making him stare.
This was working. Andra really was his lady. Even seeing it, he still could hardly believe his good fortune. He reached out, intending to hug her to him in thanks, but the world dissolved, and she along with it.
His eyesight failed for a moment before returning again, but when it did, he was no longer in the Gerai house in Nebraska. He was in a small bedroom covered in rock-band posters and bits of girlish frill. A red feather boa hung over the dresser mirror, and a purple silk scarf had been tossed over the bedside lamp. A teenage girl was lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, reading a magazine on the bed. Her bare legs were waving in the air behind her; her toenails were painted bubblegum pink, her feet twitching in time to music pounding out of the radio.
The girl looked up from her magazine like she’d heard a noise, and Paul could see now that it was a much younger version of Andra. She was maybe nineteen or twenty. She was thinner, less muscular, and so cute it made him grin.
This was a vision of her past—something important the luceria had chosen to show him. Paul scoured the scene, soaking it in.
She was beautiful, but in a childish sort of way. He preferred the way she looked now—confident and womanly and ready for whatever he had to give. Still, he would have given nearly anything to have known her then, when he would still have had time to be patient with her and ease her into his world carefully. Slowly.
But that wasn’t possible now. He needed her too much to slow down. The only thing he could do now was learn what he could about her to help make her transition as easy as possible.
A crash of breaking glass filled the air. A high-pitched scream followed, and then ended abruptly, as if cut off. Andra jumped from her bed and raced out of the room. Paul followed, unseen. Three steps down the hall, she came to a dead stop in front of a doorway. The door was open. Fresh blood coated the bright white paint and dripped off the bottom of the door, soaking into the carpet. She took a tentative step forward, and her bare foot sank into the wet carpet. Blood oozed between her toes.
She jerked her foot back and looked like she might throw up.
“Mom?” she whispered. “Oh, God.” Her hand reached out toward something on the floor just as another scream sounded from a room at the end of the hall.
Andra turned and rushed toward the scream.
Paul passed by the bloody door and saw the remains of Andra’s mother lying on the floor inside the bedroom. The Synestryn had left her head and taken the rest. The woman’s lifeless eyes stared up at him, her mouth frozen open in a silent scream. A heavy trail of blood marked where they’d dragged her body out the window. From the guttural sounds coming from the darkness outside, Paul was certain they were still out there, feeding on her corpse.