Home > Dead Lands (Savage Lands #3)(76)

Dead Lands (Savage Lands #3)(76)
Author: Stacey Marie Brown

“She will do everything she can, Brex.” My uncle’s voice drew me back to him. “We will figure it out. No matter how long it takes. Okay?”

I nodded. The sensation that time was running out pumped panic into me. I had no idea why I felt the clock ticking, but it was like a bomb in my gut.

He peered down at his watch. “It’s late; you should get some rest.” He scoured his head, sitting back down in his chair, eyes bloodshot.

“What about you?”

“I will when our enemy is defeated.”

“Do we even know who that is anymore?”

His mouth pursed, a huff coming from his nose.

“It’s getting harder to tell every day.”

 

 

I banged back into the vacant room with the single cot, my brain whirling with the strange symbols and phrases.

If the man who was like a brother to my father, who knew how he thought better than anyone, couldn’t even figure it out, how would I or anyone else? My dad could use any cipher in the world. Something he made up and was so obscure only he would ever know.

Though something tugged at my gut as if my father were reaching through the pages, circling my mind with every possible idea.

My legs and brain wouldn’t stop moving, anxious while time ticked into the first hours of October 31—Halloween to the western world, who dressed up and spent the day in fun celebration. To HDF, it was the exact opposite. We barricaded the windows and added more guards to the gates, preparing for the moment Halloween night and Samhain convened. The fae took over the city, howling through the streets like wild animals, taking the “tricks” part of the night to an extreme level.

Pulling out the picture of my mother, I stared at her joyous face. I wanted to jump into the photo, drink up every moment. Hear the sound of her voice, feel her touch, see her eyes really look at me. Smile. I knew nothing about her, but I felt this connection to her in my gut, something more profound than this physical life.

Pacing the room, restless and tense, I couldn’t lose my foreboding feeling about the coming night. A heaviness I couldn’t shake.

Prickles danced down my vertebrae, slinking through my skin, brushing at a deep intimacy, notifying me of his arrival. I twisted to the door. Warwick leaned against the doorjamb, watching me. He had the deadly talent of slipping up on someone silently and undetected. But not me. Our connection was too intense, the link throbbing like a violin string plucked between us.

No words were spoken as we stared at each other. He could feel my anxiety, grief, and fears. His calmness wrapped around me like a hug, easing my vexation, relaxing my shoulders.

He sauntered over, taking the picture from me, his gaze rolling over the image of my mother, searching.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, handing it back to me. “You can see a little of you in her. She’s beautiful.”

My tear-filled lashes lifted to him; I had no energy to put up any defenses. I was exposed, open.

“My father’s journal was coded at the end,” I whispered. “What if we can’t crack it? Never find out what I am? What he knew? What if I can’t find the nectar? What about your Eliza and Simon?”

His thumb slid over my jaw, tracing my cheeks and lips. “Then we figure out another way.” His gravelly voice skated and scraped through my core.

“How? There are no leads. Not even in the fae book.”

“There is always another way.” His hands captured my face, bringing me closer. Nothing he did was ever soft or tender, but his fierce determination eased my fears. “We don’t play by the normal rules, Kovacs. You and I make our own.” His aqua eyes burned into mine. “I saw the ghosts at the cemetery earlier, felt them respond to you, bow to you like a queen... .” His fingers gripped my jaw firmer, his nose brushing mine. “And I’m on my knees with them.”

His mouth claimed mine, hungry and possessive. Seizing my soul. Demanding every part of me, razing me to the ground, forcing me to claw my way back up and fight like hell.

His hands gripped my waist, lifting me up, my legs circling his hips as he carried me over to the cot. He dropped me down on it, climbing between my legs. Fingers tearing at my clothes, he stripped me as his invisible ones trailed over my figure. He kissed me while I could also feel him nip at my thigh, his tongue licking through me.

My spine arched with a gasp, spearing desperate desire into my chest. I ripped his shirt over his head, his mouth back on mine with a ferocity the moment nothing separated us. I unbuttoned his pants, yanking them down his hips, my palm grasping him, before the shadow of my mouth wrapped around him, taking him deep, humming.

He grunted, enticing me to go farther, generating a deep growl from him. “Fuck, princess.”

I felt powerful, making him lose control, his hips pushing into the mouth that wasn’t actually there. To us, we felt no difference.

A cry bucked from my mouth as the feel of his tongue drove in deeper, his lips sucking at my clit, hitting every erogenous spot inside, tearing the breath from my lungs.

Every inch of my skin felt him, inside and out, and I knew he could feel me the same way. We experienced each other’s pleasure along with our own, lifting us away from the world around us. There was just us, his calloused hands running over my body, his teeth dragging between my breasts, sucking on my nipple, his tongue and lips devouring my pussy.

Ecstasy. Rapture. My bones burned with pleasure, my climax heaving my chest.

“Warwick...” His name came off my lips as a plea and a promise.

He lifted off me, his gaze heavy and penetrating as he stood over me, his attention gliding over my body. He yanked off his boots and pants before climbing back over me.

Our eyes were locked on each other as he pulled my knee up to his hip, plunging inside me.

Moaning, I almost came undone, wanting to break under the waves of pleasure. I relished the slight pain from his size as he filled me with deep, long strokes.

“Fuck,” he rumbled, a vein straining along his law. “Gods, you fuckin’ feel unbelievable.” He grunted, driving in deeper. “This pussy is mine.”

I didn’t have to answer. He knew without a word he might not own the rest of me, but that part he conquered and possessed. The energy between us layered our connection with intensity and power.

He sat back, pulling me up with him, our bodies moving together. Fucking me so deep, my vision blurred, my head tipping back as his teeth nipped down on my neck.

My nails raked down his back, causing him to growl, thrusting harder into me. The flood of emotions, of extreme bliss and desire, twisted the pain and pleasure, life and death, into a single line.

Last night we went to war against each other. This time our battle was against the world, our connection weaving us together, where I could feel no difference between his satisfaction and mine. The forces outside shattered against our power, stretching farther than the walls of this building, spilling out into the atmosphere, where no rules existed.

Where we created our own.

I clutched his chin with bruising force, our eyes connected before my mouth captured his, my teeth biting down onto his lip until I tasted blood. A deep noise vibrated his throat. Desperation and desire were the same.

Flinging me back down on the cot, his face set like a warrior, about to obliterate. Kill and destroy.

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