The Darkest Whisper

CHAPTER 25

Sabin pressed his wrist into Gwen’s mouth, her teeth sinking deep into his vein. The feel of those soft lips…that hot suction…He was so hard his cock could be considered a dangerous weapon. This was Gwen’s second feeding, and she was healing nicely. She had flat-out refused to take his neck, even though she would have received a better flow of blood and thereby healed much faster. Worse, she refused to talk to him.

So he talked for both of them. He told her the kids she’d captured were still contained, but comfortable and safe. He told her that her sisters had escaped the dungeon about an hour ago and had once again taken up residence in the chamber beside his. Despite the anger they had to feel, they’d been strangely quiet.

So had Doubt, for that matter.

He’d known the demon feared the Harpies. He’d known the little shit retreated deep inside his mind every time Gwen became riled. But now the fiend remained silent even if she wasn’t. Striking distance was all that was required now. Almost seemed as if Doubt, well, doubted itself and its ability to take her in a battle of wills. Poetic justice, if you asked Sabin.

The demon turned on Sabin every time he ventured away from Gwen, of course, and still sought other victims constantly. But not Gwen, not any longer, and it never dared say anything about Gwen. After the way she’d ripped through those Hunters…The demon had also stopped trying to convince Sabin that he couldn’t have her, too afraid to piss Gwen off.

A little anger from her wouldn’t have been a bad thing, though. Anything was preferable to the silent treatment.

Sabin sighed. So badly he wanted to hop a plane and search for the missing warriors. But first, he had to recover from yesterday’s battle. He and the others were no good to anyone right now. What’s more, he knew he couldn’t divide their forces more than they already were. Hunters were still in Buda, and those Hunters had to be dealt with before the fortress fell or the women were injured.

This morning Torin had pegged one of the new captured with a tracking dye and “accidentally” let him escape, following his every move from his computer and waiting for the bastard to lead the warriors to their hiding place.

Waiting was difficult, though. He’d tried to talk the Harpies into going to Chicago, had promised them a fortune, but they’d shut their door in his face. He knew they didn’t want money. They wanted him to send Gwen packing. That, however, he couldn’t do.

He loved her. More than before, even.

More than his war, more than his hatred for the Hunters, he loved her. She was Galen’s daughter—so what. Sabin carried the demon of Doubt inside him, so like he really had room to judge. Gwen wouldn’t aid her father. She wouldn’t. Sabin knew that soul-deep. And yeah, he also knew that Gwen would be giving up a chance at a relationship with her dad to be with him, which was why he needed to prove to Gwen that he was now her family.

She was number one in his life. He shouldn’t have locked her away. He should have trusted her, should have allowed her to fight. Hell, he would have lost without her—and he would rather lose than be without her ever again.

The pressure of her mouth eased, and then she was pulling away from him. He was seated on a recliner he’d dragged to his bedroom—more than taking from his neck, Gwen had refused to drink from him on the bed. She was seated across from him in the other recliner he’d confiscated because she’d also refused to sit on his lap.

Her lips were bright red and puffy, as though she’d been kissed. “Thanks,” she muttered.

Thanks—her first word since waking from her injuries this morning. He closed his eyes, smiling as her beautiful voice drifted through his head. “My pleasure.”

“I can tell,” she said dryly.

Slowly his eyelids cracked open. She hadn’t flounced to the bed as she had earlier but remained in the chair, her back ramrod straight, peering just over his shoulder, determination pulsing off her. Dread coursed through him. What, exactly, was she determined to do? Leave him still?

“How are Aeron and Paris?” she asked.

Needed to work up to it, did she? “Healing like the rest of us. Thanks to you.”

“Thanks to William. I’d pushed myself too far and wouldn’t have been able—”

“Because of you,” he interjected. “You did more, fought harder, than anyone I’ve ever seen. And you had no reason to do it and every reason not to. Yet still you saved us all. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

“I don’t want your thanks,” she said, cheeks heating. Not in embarrassment, nor in desire. But…anger? Why would she be angry at his gratitude? She released a shuddering breath, which seemed to calm her. “I’m healed, my strength almost completely returned.”

“Yes.”

“Which means…I’m leaving.” Her voice cracked there at the end.

And there it was. He’d suspected that was coming, but was still devastated by the words. You can’t leave, he wanted to shout. You’re mine. Now and always. But he, more than anyone, knew the consequences of trying to control such a fierce soldier. “Why?” was all he managed to get out.

Jerkily she hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You know why.”

“Spell it out for me.”

Finally her eyes slid to him. Fire sizzled in their depths. “You want to hear it? Fine. You used my weakness against me, my secrets. You hurt my sisters, forced me to hurt them and lock them away to save you. You didn’t trust me and you almost died for it.” She jumped to her feet, hands fisted. “You almost died!”

Okay, the thought of his death upset her most. She’d mentioned it twice. Hope flared inside him, and Sabin was out of his chair and tossing her on the bed before she had time to blink. As she bounced from the impact, he pinned her with his weight.

Rather than struggle against him, she glared up at him. “I could snap your neck.”

“I know.” Actually, this position left her vulnerable. Left her wings immobile, which drained her strength. Her weakness, the one he’d used against her before. There’d be no more of that. He flipped to his back, placing her atop him. “I thought I was doing it for your own good. I didn’t want you fighting. Didn’t want you hurt. Didn’t want you pitted against your own father.”

“That wasn’t your choice.”

“I know,” he repeated. “To be honest, I did it for me. I needed to know you were safe. That was stupid of me. Stupid and wrong. I won’t be leaving you behind again. You’re a better soldier than I’ve ever been.”

Her legs straddled his waist, placing the heat of her directly above his throbbing erection. He groaned, gripped her hips to keep her still.

“I can’t trust you anymore,” she said.

“You can. You can trust me. You, more than anyone.”

“Liar!” She slapped him, hard enough to crack bone. His cheek exploded in pain, but he didn’t make a sound, didn’t retaliate or release her. Just slowly faced her, ready for anything else she wanted to dish. He deserved it. He’d let her flay the skin from his body if it meant working this out between them. “I question everything you say now, something I didn’t do even when your demon was drifting through my head at every possible opportunity. More than that, I will never truly believe you trust me. After everything you’ve done—”

“I have weaknesses, too.” The words left him in a desperate rush, quieting her. “You gave me your secrets. Now let me give you mine. To prove that I trust you, that I’ll never leave you behind again.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “While guarding the king of gods, I lost an eye. Zeus had to give me another. I can’t see great distances like the other warriors.”

As he spoke, her shoulders relaxed a little. Her fingers curled in his shirt, bunching the material and lifting it from his stomach. His hope intensified. “You could be lying.”

“I told you. I can’t lie. I pass out if I try. That’s part of my curse—and another weakness.”

“You said you wouldn’t use my secrets against me. That was a lie, but you didn’t pass out.”

“I meant it at the time.”

She remained silent.

“I hold two daggers while fighting because I have a tendency to grab my opponent if a hand is free. I’ve lost fingers that way more times than I can count. If you can disarm me of a single blade, you can more easily defeat me.” He’d never told anyone these things. Even his men, though they’d probably noticed over the years. Still, he was surprised by how easily—and willingly—he shared with her.

“I–I think I noticed that.” Her tone was softer, gentler. “During practice.”

Encouraged, he continued. “Everyone is sensitive in some place, some way. It’s a weakness, an Achilles heel. Mine is my left knee. The slightest pressure can send me to the ground. That’s why I fight with my body half-turned.”

She blinked, as if she were reliving their practice sessions in her mind, trying to judge the truth of his claim for herself. A few minutes ticked by in silence. Sabin concentrated on breathing deep and even, drawing her scent into his nose.

“To be honest, though, there is one weakness that slays me more than any other. Right now, always, that’s you.” His voice dropped, husky, intent. “If you still want to leave, leave. But know that I’ll be leaving with you. Try to lose me, and I’ll just hunt you down. Where you go, I go. If you decide to stay and wish me to stop fighting, I’ll never again fight the Hunters. You are more important. I’d rather die than live without you, Gwendolyn.”

She was shaking her head, disbelief warring with hope in her expression. “My father—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“But…but…”

“I love you, Gwen.” More than he’d ever loved another. More than he loved even himself. And he loved himself a great deal—most of the time. “I never thought I’d find myself grateful to Galen for anything, but I am. I could almost forgive him for every wrong he’s committed because he brought you into the world.”

She licked her lips, still hesitant to accept his claim. “But other women—”

“Don’t even tempt me. I am your consort. Not for any reason, even to win a battle, would I turn to someone else. Ever. I’d rather lose the battle than lose you. You are it for me. The only one. Hurting you destroys me. I know that now.”

“I want to believe you. I do.” Her gaze fell to his chest, to where her fingers rested. Those fingers relaxed their grip, even traced squiggly lines. “I’m afraid.”

“Give me time. Let me prove it. Please. I don’t deserve a second chance, but I’m willing to beg for one. Anything you desire, anything you—”

“What I desire is you.” Her eyes met his, pupils consuming the irises. “You’re here, and you’re alive, and that’s all I can seem to make matter at the moment. Let me have you.” She ripped his shirt in half and dove down, mouth suddenly sucking one of his nipples. “I don’t know about the future, but I know that I need you. Show me what you want me to believe. Show me you love me.”

Sabin’s hands tangled in her hair, and he rolled them over. Joy burst through him. Joy and shock, love and white-hot desire. She hadn’t offered the everlasting declaration he’d hoped for, but this would do. For now.

He tugged at her clothing, his own. Soon they were both naked, hot skin pressed against hot skin. He sucked in a breath at the bliss. She moaned, her nails spearing deep in his shoulders.

Sabin kissed his way to her chest, laved his tongue over each of her nipples, kneaded her breasts, and then continued his trail of kisses. His tongue swooped into her navel, and she quivered, writhing against him.

“Grab the headboard,” he commanded.

“Wh-what?”

“Headboard. Hold it. Don’t let go.”

She was blinking up at him in confusion, the scent of desire wafting from her. She was lost in the pleasure, drowning in it, but finally she obeyed. Her back arched, her breasts now high in the air, nipples hard as little pearls.

“Drape your legs over my shoulders,” he rasped out, reaching up to roll one of those beautiful nipples between his fingers.

This time she obeyed without hesitation, gasping, trying to grind up against him. When he felt her heels digging into his lower back, he parted the damp folds guarding the new center of his world and bent his head for a taste.

Her flavor was intoxicating. Addicting. Rich and sweet, the perfection he remembered. He circled her clitoris, teasing it, while he sank two fingers inside her. Her cry echoed throughout the bedroom.

“I can’t believe I resisted you, even for a second.”

“More.”

“Have I told you yet how beautiful you are? How much I love you?”

“More!”

He chuckled. On and on he tongued her, his fingers never ceasing their ministrations. Her head thrashed back and forth, strawberry curls flying in every direction, body writhing.

“More,” she chanted. “More, more, more.”

When he brought a third finger into play, she immediately began spasming, holding him inside, muscles locking tight. He sucked her clit harder…longer…drawing out her climax.

Only when she screamed his name, only when she collapsed against the mattress limply, did he release her. He crawled up her body, cock begging to penetrate her tight little sheath. But he didn’t. Not yet.

Her eyelids blinked open. Luminous amber irises peered up at him, white teeth nibbling at her bottom lip.

“I’m not going to hurt you, ever again,” he vowed, and then flipped her to her stomach. “Let me prove it.”

She gasped, instantly reared back to knock his weight off her, but he reached down and flattened his chest to her back, stopping the frantic flutter of her wings. She stilled. Don’t panic on me, darling. Next he flattened his hands over hers, meshing his cock between her lower cheeks, his legs outside hers. He was panting, warm breath trekking wildly over her shoulders.

“I owe these precious wings a proper apology,” he said, lifting his weight. “Will you allow me to touch them?”

Thankfully, she didn’t try to buck him off again. She did stop breathing, though. He heard the hitch of it in her throat. Unable to speak, she nodded.

“Make them stop,” he said. “Please.”

Gradually, the wings calmed.

Inch by inch, he covered each delicate wing with a kiss. They were soft, like silk, and cool to the touch, the perfect contrast to his heat. There wasn’t a single hint of feathers, which surprised him. They were nearly translucent, blue veins intertwining from top to bottom, flowing like crystal rivers.

Just then he hated himself for what he’d done to her. How could he have bound these beautiful wings, even for a moment?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “So sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. No excuse is good enough.”

“I–I forgive you.” The words were husky, wine-rich. “I do understand why you did it. I don’t like that you did it, but I do understand.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear it. I—”

“Need you inside me. Now.” Frantically she moved her backside against him, seeking the head of his shaft. “You’ve made me desperate. I need more.”

“Yes. Yes.” Wait. Slow down. “Fertile yet?”

“No.”

Speed back up. Sabin gripped her hips and slammed all the way to the hilt. They cried out in unison. So good. Felt so good. Better than before, hotter, wetter. More fulfilling. They were connected, one being, fused together. She belonged to him, and he to her.

Bending down, he pressed his stomach to her back, reached around and thrummed her clit with one hand and kneaded her breasts with the other, attacking every possible pleasure-point. She lifted her body, grabbing the headboard again and sinking deeper onto his cock.

Shit, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He was at the edge, had been at the edge for days already. But over and over he hammered inside her, slipping, sliding, no longer Sabin, only Gwen’s man.

A scream suddenly reverberated through the room, and she was once again locking down on him, milking him. Just like that, Sabin hurtled over, pleasure consuming him, washing him in great waves of sensation.

They stayed like that forever, still joined, before collapsing against the mattress. Sabin quickly rolled to her side, not wanting to smash her with his weight. Well, not wanting to smash her again.

Unable to release her, even for a second, he pulled her into his side and she eagerly snuggled against him. This, he decided, must be what heaven was like.

“Twice now you’ve asked me if I was fertile, which leads me to believe you can have children,” she said between breaths, the husky announcement breaking the silence. “Even Ashlyn is pregnant, though I assumed she had gotten that way before she arrived here. Oh, wait. Galen helped make me, so you guys can reproduce.”

“Yes, and yes, Ashlyn’s child is Maddox’s. The conditions for conceiving have to be just right, but we can indeed father kids. I’m sure you’ve read the stories of the gods impregnating humans.”

“Yeah, but you guys weren’t born in the traditional way,” she countered. “You were created by Zeus himself. I would think you’d be…lacking in…you know…baby serum.”

Baby serum? He had to cut back a laugh. “We have a lot more hormones, white blood cells and other necessary components than humans. It’s one of the reasons we’re able to heal so quickly. Most females’ bodies cannot handle that potent a…serum, so they begin fighting and killing it.”

“Think I could handle it?”

“I think you could handle anything.”

Gradually she relaxed against him. Might even have smiled. “Do you ever want to have kids?”

He never had before. His life had been too turbulent. But he liked the thought of creating a baby with Gwen. A baby just like her, increasing this new blessing in his life. “Yeah. Someday, just not yet. Not until it’s safe.”

Her expression was pensive. “Safe.” She sighed and changed the subject. “I don’t want you to stop fighting Hunters, but I don’t know if I’ll stay with you.”

“Fair enough.” Though he’d use his dying breath to convince her to stay. And he hadn’t lied. He’d follow her. Wherever she went, he’d follow. Getting rid of him was going to be a bitch of a problem. “But don’t expect me to watch you walk away and do nothing.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that just yet. First, I’m going to help you find your friends. Can you trust me to do that?”

“Yes. I could discover you hugging Galen and I wouldn’t doubt you.” He said it with confidence. Meant it. Gwen was the one thing in his life that he would never have to doubt.

A laugh bubbled from her. “That I would have to see to believe.” She traced her fingertips along his chest. “I need to talk to my sisters.”

“Good luck with that.” He captured them and brought them to his lips.

Another sigh. “I half expected them to leave. But deep down I knew they’d stay just to punish me for what I did to them.”

“They won’t hurt you.” He wouldn’t allow it.

She twined their hands and gave a gentle squeeze. “How are Danika and Ashlyn?”

“Grateful to you, worried about the missing men.”

Frowning, Gwen sat up, hair tumbling gloriously down her back. “I’m going to shower, clear my head. Will you call a meeting with everyone here in, say…an hour?”

He didn’t ask why she wished to have the meeting, he simply trusted her, as he’d said he would. “Consider it done.”