He hadn’t. The only landmark that had stood out to him was a dark, too dark, part of the forest that had made his skin crawl. Had he been alone, he would have braved that forest without hesitation. His mind had been centered upon Jane’s protection, however, and he’d opted to brave nothing. A mistake.
His swollen fingers intertwined with hers, squeezing. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“You were all scary alpha and in charge, and I didn’t want to, you know, poke at the bear. Plus, I was kind of distracted by the scenery and maybe lost in my thoughts. So, here’s what we’re going to do,” she went on. Now who was all alpha and in charge? “You’re going to lead us to the most dangerous place in this forest. And when you think you should turn left, you’re going to turn right. You’re going to do the opposite of everything you feel is correct.”
Smart, his Jane. And so damned arousing he doubted he would ever get enough of her.
He wanted to keep her. In his bed, his arms, his fangs buried in her neck, his cock buried between her legs. Even though he was destined to wed the… Another sharp lance tore through his mind, and he grunted.
“What?” Jane asked, concerned all over again. “Are you okay?”
Her back was a mess of welts, and she asked if he was okay. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and nodded. “You are well enough to travel?”
“Of course,” she said, as if there was no doubt in her mind.
“All right, then.”
Though his body protested, he trudged forward once again, leaving the cave behind. He followed Jane’s advice—orders—and did the opposite of what his “instincts” demanded, even plunging into a patch of thorny clinging vines guarding the darker part of the forest. He expected to be scratched, but the leaves merely caressed him, tickling.
There were no thorns, he realized. Even though he saw them, they were not there. Laila—or her healer—was more powerful than he’d ever suspected.
Male laughter cut through the night, springing from just ahead. Nicolai stopped, stiffened, and Jane bumped into him. Her breasts mashed into his back, and he had to press his lips together to halt his moan.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered.
“Hear what?”
That answered that. Still he did not move forward, but stood there, waiting, listening. Jane’s nipples hardened, rasping over his flesh as she breathed. Her scent enveloped him. Must taste female…soon.
This physical desire was new to him. Oh, he’d had sex. And recently, too. Many times, but with Laila, or someone of her choosing as the princess watched and directed. Always chained to her bed, muzzled, her mouth and hands forcing him to respond to her, even though he hated her.
Sometimes, when even that failed to arouse him, she had used her witch magic to elicit an erection from him. Unlike her sister, she hadn’t needed someone else’s pain to spur her into orgasm. She had ridden him with abandon, while he had stared up at the face he despised, scowling, trying with every ounce of his strength to prevent her—and himself—from climaxing.
Sometimes she had, sometimes she hadn’t. Sometimes he had, sometimes he hadn’t. But each time, no matter the outcome, his hatred for them both had grown.
He did not remember ever being with another woman—besides Odette—though he was sure he’d had many lovers throughout the years. Because, as Laila had writhed atop him, he’d instinctively known what would bring her pleasure. Gliding his thumb along the bundle of nerves between her legs. Laving his tongue there. Kneading her breasts, plucking at her nipples. All the things he had refused to do, and now wanted to do to Jane.
He wanted to watch her expressive face as she reached her peak. Wanted to feel her inner walls clutch at him. Wanted to hear her cry out his name. Sweet heavens, even the thought delighted him.
“Seriously. What are we listening for?” Jane asked. The warmth of her breath trekked down his spine. “I don’t hear anything.”
Taste…
Distracted again, Nicki? The stray thought jolted him back to full awareness. Someone had once said that to him; he knew it. A woman. He wanted to know who, but now was not the time to try and access his memories. He had to remain alert.
“Come,” he said, leading Jane deeper into that dark part of the forest. More laughter echoed. Evil, promising retribution. Once again, he stilled. “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
More laughter, blending with yet another man’s. “That.”
“No. I hear the rush of water now, but that’s all.”
Damn it. The laughter must be another trick of Laila’s, meant to send him fleeing. Nicolai kicked back into gear. Five minutes passed, an eternity. He remained on guard, without a weapon—he should have grabbed a damned weapon—but willing to shield Jane with his body.
Another five minutes eked by. Then another. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on, but he felt like he should stop, so he did the opposite. He pushed onward. Another five minutes. Another.
“Wait. Nicolai. You have—”
Jane’s words cut off when Nicolai felt the cool rush of water against his feet, droplets splashing up his calf. Brows knitting in confusion, he paused and looked down. He hadn’t noticed the water, even though it had been directly in front of him.
The rocks were slippery as he backtracked to the edge. Dangerous, he thought. This place is dangerous. He should—
Stay. Finally.
“You did it,” Jane said. “You found the source.” She laughed, soft and carefree.
Without thought, Nicolai found himself whipping around to catch a glimpse of her. Her expression was lit up, brighter than the sun on its best morning. Her plump pink lips were curved at the corners, inviting him to lick, to finally taste. To devour. The hem of her robe was wet and plastered to her ankles.
She was safe. He could have her. Yes?
His chest constricted, and his stomach quivered. He reached out. A touch, until she healed, he’d allow himself only a touch. Except, his knees gave out just before contact and he fell into the water. His chin resting on his sternum, he breathed quickly and shallowly, trying to fill his lungs but failing.
His energy was draining, absolute fatigue taking its place.
“Oh, no, you don’t. Not there. You’ll drown.” Jane latched onto his arm and managed to drag him to the shore.
Once there, he just kind of fell the rest of the way, crashing into a mossy embankment. He tried to rise, but couldn’t find the strength. He needed to forage for food. Jane must be starving. He needed to build a shelter. The bugs would eat his woman alive. He needed to stand guard. She must not be hurt.
“Relax,” she said.
“Protect,” he murmured.
“Yes, I’ll protect you.” Gentle hands smoothed over his brow,
“No, I…” Oblivion claimed him before he could utter another word.
NICOLAI…
The deep male voice that called to him was familiar. Always in his dreams, when his defenses were weakened, but it was stronger now than ever before. And…beloved?
Nicolai…time…save…
In the back of his mind, he heard the tick, tick, tick of a clock.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
An image flashed in his mind. Not of the speaker, but of huge, grotesque monsters crawling toward him. Each had eight legs, with sharp, deadly points. They were black and hairy, their eyes big and beady, their tails pointed and curling toward him. They were staring him down, as if he were a tasty snack. Bile rose in his throat, but he pressed on, ignoring them.
“Where are you? What can I do?”
Nicolai…brother…heal yourself, and come. Time…save…
Brother? Nicolai tried to picture a brother. Nothing. He could not picture his mother, either. Nor his father. Even in his dreams, pain exploded through his head, shutting down his memories.