HER LIFEMATE
Freya opened her eyes, after what seemed like seconds to her. She noticed that she was in the arms of someone that was not Yodah. Their scents were different.
She trailed her eyes from the powerful chest to the face of the man who was carrying her.
His hair was the color of dark coffee beans, a dark espresso, drawn back and tied at the nape of his neck. His face was that of an angel or a devil, strength and power, with a sensual mouth that hinted at cruelty; his hooded eyes were black obsidian, black ice, pure black magic.This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.
She couldn’t read him, couldn’t feel his emotions or hear his thoughts. That had never happened.
But she already knew who he was. Her heart was beating faster than the normal. Her insides were humming in pleasure.
Aiden.
“Tonight might not be so good for me. I’m feeling…” She broke off, trying to get his attention, but then catching a glimpse of a moving shadow pacing them. Her heart nearly stopped. She looked around, sighted a second, then a third. Her hand clutched his shoulder. “Put me down, Mr.” She said.
“Aiden” He corrected, not even slowing down. A smile softened the edges of his mouth.
“You see the wolves?”
She felt the indifferent shrug of his broad shoulders.
“Be calm, little one; they will not harm us. This is their home, as it is mine. We have an understanding and are at peace with one another.” He commented.
Somehow she believed him.
“Are you going to hurt me?” She asked the question softly, needing to know.
His dark eyes touched her face again, thoughtful, holding a thousand secrets, unmistakably possessive.
“I am not a man who would hurt a woman in the way you are imagining. But I am certain our relationship will not always be a comfortable one. You like to defy me.” He answered as honestly as he was able.
“Where is Yodah?” She asked, remembering her best friend.
Betrayal. He hadn’t even thought to wake her up before handing her over to Aiden.
“I dismissed him of his duty. You will see him when we are done talking.” He replied.
His eyes made her feel as if she belonged to him, as if he had a right to her.
“You were wrong to hurt Kyran, you know. You could have killed him.” She mentioned.
“Do not defend him, little one. I allowed him to live to please you, but it would be no trouble to finish the task.” He stated.
Pleasurable. No man had the right to put his hand on his woman and hurt her as that wizard had done. The inability of the male to see that he was causing her pain did not absolve his sin.
“You don’t mean that. Kyran is harmless. He was just attracted to me,” She tried to explain gently.
“You will not speak his name to me. He touched you, put his hand on you.” He stopped abruptly, there in the heart of the deep forest, as wild and untamed as the pack of wolves surrounding them. He was not even breathing heavily, though he had covered miles carrying her in his arms. His black eyes were merciless as they stared down into hers. “He caused you much pain.”
Her breath caught in her throat as he lowered his dark head to hers. His mouth hovered inches from hers, so that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin.
“Do not disobey me in this, Freya. This man touched you, hurt you, and I see no reason for his existence.” He said.
Her eyes searched his hard, implacable features. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
She did not want to feel the warmth spreading through her at his words. Kyran had hurt her; the pain was so intense, it had stolen her breath and somehow, when no one else knew, apart from Yodah, Aiden had known.
“Deadly serious.” He began moving again with his long, ground-eating strides.
Freya was silent, trying to work out the puzzle. She knew evil, had chased it, soaked in it, the obscene, depraved mind of a serial killer. This man spoke casually of killing, yet she could not feel evil in him. She sensed that she was in danger, grave danger from Aiden. A man with unlimited power, arrogant in his strength, a man who believed he had a right to her.
“Aiden?” Her slender frame was beginning to tremble. “I want to go back.”
The dark eyes drifted over her face again, noting the shadows, the fear lingering in her blue gaze. Her heart was pounding, her slight body trembling in his arms. “Go back to what? Death? Isolation? You have nothing with those people and everything with me. Going back is not your answer. Sooner or later you will not be able to take their demands. They continually take pieces of your soul. You are much safer in my care.”
“And what is that supposed to mean? They are my family.” She shrieked out, pushing at the wall of his chest, found her hands trapped against the heat of his skin. He merely tightened his hold, amusement spreading warmth to the coldness of his eyes. “You cannot fight me, little one.”
“And you are not sure that they are your family.”
“What do you mean by that? What are you trying to connotate? I want to go back, Aiden.” She worked to keep her voice under control. She wasn’t sure she was telling the truth. He knew her. He knew what she felt, the price she paid for her gift. The pull between them was so strong, she could hardly think straight.
The house loomed up, dark, threatening, a rambling hulk of stone. Her fingers twisted in his shirt. Aiden knew she was unaware of that nervous, telltale gesture.
“You are safe with me, Freya. I would not allow anyone or anything to harm you.”
She swallowed nervously as he mounted the steps. “Just you.”
He allowed his chin to brush the top of her silky hair, feeling the jolt in the core of his body. “Welcome to my home.” He said the words softly, wrapping her up in them as if they were firelight or sunshine. Very slowly, reluctantly, he allowed her feet to touch the threshold.
Hel reached past her to open the door, then stepped back. “Do you enter my home of your own free will?” He asked it formally, his eyes burning on her face, over it, dwelling on her soft mouth before returning to her large blue eyes.
She was frightened, he could read it easily, a captive wild thing wanting to trust him yet unable to, run to the ground, cornered, but still willing to fight with her last breath. She needed him almost as much as he needed her. She touched the door frame with a fingertip. “If I say no, will you take me back to my home?”
Why did she want to be with him when she knew he was so dangerous? He wasn’t “pushing” her; she had too much talent of her own not to know. He looked so alone, so proud, yet his eyes burned over her with hungry need. He didn’t answer her, didn’t try to persuade her, simply stood in silence, waiting.
Freya sighed softly, knowing she was defeated. She had never known another being she could just sit and talk with, even touch, without the bombardment of thoughts and emotions. That in itself was a type of seduction.
She started across the threshold. Aiden caught her arm. “Your own free will; say it.” He intoned.
“My own free will.” She stepped into his home, her lashes sweeping down.
Freya missed the look of savage joy that lit his dark, chiseled features.