Her Dark Soul Read online

  Ash fought down the growing need to cover his hand with her own and drive his fingers into her flesh. But she knew the ache within her would never be satisfied. “This isn’t holding,” she muttered.

  “It’s impossible not to touch you.” Marek’s hot admission made her crush her eyes shut. “Something about you… The thought of taking you, fucking you, it’s constant. And I will. After.” He let out a long breath. “All right, keep your eyes closed. You’ll begin to drift off to sleep.”

  How did he think she was going to sleep when he’d just admitted what his plan was after? Her heart pounded, the fear, need and frustration hot in her blood. She loathed and wanted him in equal measure…and he expected her to.

  Her thoughts grew heavy, languid, and she tried to remember what had her gut in a knot, but she couldn’t. Everything was falling away until sleep took her.

  “Couldn’t stay away, Ash?”

  Lucas turned her over onto her back and straddled her. He teased her bottom lip and a grin pulled at his own mouth. His dark eyes, heavy with sin, held her. “Should I carry on where I left off? Eat that sweet pussy of yours?”

  Ash gasped at the play of his fingers as he parted her thighs, teasing over the sensitive skin before one teasing finger dipped into her wet flesh. Its sudden curl bucked her against him and his cock, warm, smooth and hard, pressed against her belly. A second finger followed the first but something was missing. Someone was missing.

  Lucas froze. “What?”

  “Who’s your master?”

  Marek’s hard voice shot over her and mortification quickly followed. She was caught in a dream, but his seeing her naked, her legs open and another man’s fingers playing with her felt…wrong. And strangely incomplete.

  Lucas snapped his gaze to her and his fingers sank deeper, forcing a low moan from her, her hips finding a rhythm with his touch. His mouth teased her lips. “You care what he thinks?”

  “She knows what a danger you are.”

  Marek gripped Lucas’ hand, pulling him free of her flesh, and shoved him back. Lucas hit the plaster wall and anger burned in his dark eyes. Ash tugged the twisted blanket over her nakedness and let out a heavy breath. She could so easily have slid back into letting Lucas kiss her, take her. She let her gaze roam over the sunlit perfection of his naked body and the need for him still warmed her.

  “She wants me, can’t you see her thoughts? They’re burning around her.”

  Marek stared at her and Ash felt embarrassed heat scorch under her cheeks. He had come into her dream fully clothed in his custodian uniform and she didn’t want to regret that he’d made that choice. She closed her thoughts, too aware that they were obvious to both men. She gave him a shrug. “He’s beautiful.”

  Marek lifted an eyebrow. “And that’s enough for you?”

  “For now.” She shrugged again, determined not to be intimidated by him. “I’m new to this.”

  His attention swung back to Lucas. “But he’s not. So tell me, shade, who’s your master?”

  Lucas’ face tightened and a slash of red cut across his sculpted cheekbones. “Shade? You think I’m some sprite trapped and bound by a stinking alchemist?”

  Marek laughed. “Aren’t you?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  He stood before the custodian. They were almost the same height and mirrored each other in their dark perfection. Ash’s spine tingled, the long twist of her birthmark growing warm. They had a—she fumbled for the feeling, the instinct that gripped her—a rightness to them that she couldn’t explain.

  Lucas tilted his head. “Even Ash can feel it. And she feels something else.” He stroked his jaw and Marek flinched at the other man’s touch against his skin. “There’s darkness in your blood, Marek Savada.” He grinned, something sharp, wicked. “Ah, that’s how you’re here.”

  In a swift move, Marek gripped Lucas’ throat, barreling him back until he hit the plaster. He trapped him against the wall with his body and Ash stared at Lucas’ bare feet dangling above the wooden floorboards. Her heart jumped. “Marek!”

  He ignored her. “This is a very special place,” he muttered. His fingers flexed around Lucas’ neck and the man flushed, sweat already beading his brow. His hands grabbed at Marek’s leather-clad arm, but Ash knew his strength. Marek was made of iron. “I’ve known people to die in dreams like this.”

  Ash jumped from the bed, uncertainty gripping her. She knew Lucas wanted to break the magic that she held, and Marek’s warning of her future still burned strongly at the front of her mind. But she couldn’t watch while he throttled a man. She grabbed at Marek’s arm, her fingers biting into the leather, but she couldn’t shift him. “Damn it, Marek!”

  “You’re from the north. Dardanas.” Lucas choked out the words. “A dark soul.”

  “No.”

  “I can see it.” He swallowed and fought for breath. “She can see it.”

  Marek tightened his grip. “Tell me who your master is.”

  Ash slapped his arm, her palm stinging from the impact. “If he’s dead he can’t tell you, you idiot!”

  He cast her a hard look and Ash winced, but his fingers loosened and he stepped back from the tight press of his body into Lucas’. “Speak, or I will kill you.”

  Lucas rubbed at his reddened throat, the heavy print of Marek’s fingers searing red against his skin. “I don’t have a master.”

  Marek took a step forward, his arm raised. “Wait!” Lucas pressed his hand to his face. “Decades ago,” he stared around the sunlit room, his gaze distant. “Probably centuries now, I was sentenced for my crime. The punishment was the stripping away of my flesh and having my soul bound.”

  “Crime?” Ash stepped back from both men and dragged the blanket from the bed. She wrapped it around her body, feeling somehow safer. Lucas was a criminal? “What did you do?”

  “Ash…” Marek’s use of her name was an irritated warning.

  “I fucked above my rank and was caught with the first daughter of the queen.” His gaze flicked to Ash and her chest tightened. “Caught because I couldn’t resist her.” He returned his attention to Marek. “I’m bound by inscribed magic, whoever can read it can bend me to their will.”

  Marek narrowed his eyes. “You’re the statuette owned by that knight.”

  “Now I’ve told you what I am. So what are you?”

  “That’s not how it works.” Marek ran his fingers through his hair, his focus lost to thought. “Who bound you?”

  Lucas ignored his question. “You don’t even know what you are, do you?” He laughed, something short and hard. “You’re controlling a dream and you don’t know that your…what…?” He paused and his eyes gleamed. “Yes, your father was a dark soul. A rare birth.” He grinned. “And it’s why you want to fuck her so badly it’s a hard pain in your gut.”

  “What’s a dark soul?” Ash looked from Lucas to Marek, whose face had tightened and she could almost feel the anger burning off him. Her world had tipped over and become insane in a few short hours. Her life had once been simple, but now dark men and even darker magic surrounded her. “My ignorance helps no one.”

  “The dark souls are the mythical race that comes from the far north. A breed of humans with demon blood.” Marek glared at Lucas. “They don’t exist.”

  He met the custodian’s glare with a sharp smile. “Then this won’t affect you.”

  Chapter Four

  Lucas snapped his fingers and the small, sunlit bedroom vanished to be replaced with a dark cavern. Flickering torches fixed on brackets to the wall threw warm light over the stone floor. Something moved in the shadows and Ash’s chest bloomed with heat. Marek’s hand tugged at her waist and she gasped as he pulled her back against his chest, his arm securing her to him.

  But he didn’t break them out of whatever Lucas had thrown them into. His breathing came fast and his fingers dug into her hip. Heat flooded her face as his hips rolled against her backside. His other hand eased beneath the blanket that w
rapped around her and cupped her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple to hardness. Whatever lurked in the shadows, whatever he could see, excited him.

  Lucas stood at his side. He teased a finger along Ash’s shoulder and the touch of both of them against her skin spiraled a riot of need through her flesh. “Can you see it now?”

  Her heart beat hard, wild fire surged through her veins and somehow the shadows thinned, lifted. Her. Her, naked and wrapped around Marek, his mouth on her throat, his cock buried deep inside her, stroking into her, but more than that. Ash’s heart lodged in her throat, her arousal almost a physical pain. Lucas stood at her back, his fingers hard on her hips and his cock easing into her in an alternate rhythm.

  “A primary and secondary,” Lucas murmured, his hand slipping over her collarbone to push aside the blanket and expose her other breast. He dipped his mouth and the shock of his hot tongue forced a cry from her. “The way of the dark souls, the way we bond and breed.”

  She couldn’t look away from the…display…as the light moved shadows over her, their skin. Soft groans mingled and she wanted to be that woman caught between them. And even as she stood so far away, Lucas’ mouth on her skin, the roll of Marek’s hips against her backside licked fire over every inch of her body. Damn the priests for making her this way.

  “Why damn them?” Lucas’ voice flowed like honey over her skin. “Look at you. Look at us fucking you.” He glanced behind to the three engrossed people and a soft groan escaped him. “Hell, I can almost feel you, tight and hot.” His hand chased down her body and he teased his fingers though the thin blanket, unerringly finding her sweet spot. “Would you want that? Both of us? Now? Here?”

  Marek groaned and his hand tightened around her breast. “This isn’t right.”

  “But it is.” Lucas stroked her flesh. She gasped and clutched at Marek’s arms, trying to deny the increasing push of Lucas’ fingers. “Somehow, Ash is right for us both. Follow your instincts.” He looked up and his wicked smile forced her to meet the thrust of his fingers. The ache in her belly surged and still she watched her other self, surrounded by the men she wanted, needed, watched that woman take Marek’s mouth and lose herself in a wild kiss. “How can you deny such satisfaction?”

  The other-Ash’s loud, echoing cry broke across the cavern and she could only watch as both men took her together, pushing hard and fast into her willing flesh. Her own need spiraled, a fierce, hot ache only intensified by Marek’s tight hold, his breath ragged over her ear and Lucas’ fingers teasing, pushing ever closer to where she ached for him. She met his gaze, the wild hunger there mirroring her own, and she covered his hand, urging him deeper, harder—

  “No!”

  Marek wrenched her free from Lucas and they were stumbling back, falling…until she jerked awake on his bed, with the sunlight from the window hot on her face. His body still shrouded her, his cock hard between her legs, his fingers tight against her breast and curled into her wet flesh.

  “I should have you.” He growled the words against her ear and his hips thrust forward, his cock pushing up against his fingers. Ash groaned, hating and adoring the life she had fallen into. “Should fuck you. I want to.” He used his fingers to push his cock between her folds, its blunt head thrusting against her sweet spot and thickening the tension low and fierce in her belly. “I can still see you and him…and me.”

  “Marek…” His name was little more than a groan and she gripped his arm, meeting his thrusts, wanting to ride him, even as she wanted to stop, because the promise of something more, of something that she could almost feel at the very edge of her flesh, would never come. “Please.”

  He stopped and for too many heartbeats his body tensed around hers. Soft curses in that strange language burned against her ear. Ash closed her eyes, feeling his anger, not directed at her but at himself. His hands eased their hard grip on her flesh. “You’re right,” he murmured, and pulled himself away. The mattress shifted and he stood. “I have to break his magic.”

  Ash willed herself to turn over and she watched him pull on his breeches. Her heart tightened and ached in her chest. “You’re going to kill him?”

  He shrugged on his shirt. “If that’s what it takes.”

  “He has to do what others command—”

  “You’re defending him?” Marek stamped into his boots and laughed. “A shade that would have you out on the streets.”

  “But he’s not that, is he?” Ash found her shift in a puddle on the floor and pulled it over her head. She slipped her feet into her sandals. “He said you were both something called a dark soul.”

  Marek’s hard gaze speared her. “I am not a dark soul.”

  She tilted her head. “Then what you saw should’ve had no affect on you…”

  He laughed. “I saw myself fucking you—”

  “And him? You saw Lucas too.”

  Marek’s mouth thinned. “I like the thought of sharing a woman.” He buttoned his shirt, the movement of his fingers jerked, angry. “That does not make me a dark soul.”

  “Why is it a stigma?”

  Marek stopped at the door, his hand on the latch. He didn’t turn away from the dark wood as he murmured, “Dark souls are insane, they have no control, are ruthless and without honor.”

  Ash let out a soft laugh. And this didn’t describe him? “Then they must be well hidden in Bukhara.”

  “They don’t exist.” He opened the door and strode out onto the landing.

  Ash scrambled after him. “And you know that how?”

  He padded down the stairs, the wood creaking under his weight. “I’m a custodian. We must deal with every kind of magic to protect our artifacts.” He turned into the front of the house, passing his office, and pushed open the door to the cellar room. “I’ve never encountered a dark soul.”

  “Because the magic is too familiar for you to recognize?”

  Marek let out a hot breath. “All the wards they had and they tied you to this treasure.” He unhooked a small lamp from the wall and sparked fire to the wick. Soft light stretched down into the darkness. “Come on.”

  “You want me to go with you?”

  “They focused the magic on you. You’re an integral part of breaking it.” He took her hand and she had no option but to follow him down into the darkness. The heavy, warmed scent of the earth enclosed her and she fought her panicked pulse. “This is only an initial test. It may take time to spell the code inscribed on the statue.”

  “So Lucas will still be in my dreams.”

  “No.” Marek planted the lamp on the table. “You’re sleeping with me until he’s dealt with.”

  “Sleeping…?”

  “It’s necessary.”

  He opened the drawer and lifted out the statuette. The thought of having to sleep with the biting temptation of Marek’s body wrapped around her faded. In the soft glow of the light, the figure’s pale gold gleamed and Ash sought out his face, trying to see if his beauty reflected in the cold metal. He was there. So lifelike it caught her breath and even knowing what it was, a trap for her, the object tugged at her, as it had before. Was that the magic bound to her?

  “I should have seen that,” Marek murmured, fixing his attention on Ash. He lifted the statuette and waved it first to the right and then to the left. “You can’t look away from it, can you?”

  Ash pulled in a tight breath. “It’s beautiful.” She curled her fingers into tight fists, the itch for her to stroke the incredibly cast gold strong in her fingertips. “I want to touch it.”

  “And you did when my back was turned.”

  She flushed. “I didn’t know it was wrong.”

  Marek snorted. “In the future, please remember that everything I bring into this house is charged with magic. Magic of every type from every corner of the empire. That’s what a custodian is. A protector, protecting the city and the emperor from hostile magic.” He set the cast image of Lucas on the table beside the lamp and it gleamed, its brightness almost pulling her tow
ards it. Curious curves and dots covered its base. “I’m trained to contain it.”

  She crushed her eyes against the lure of the statuette and focused on Marek’s words. “As you do with me?”

  His boots thudded against the tiled floor, away from her, and then wood creaked. It forced her to look at him. He stood before an open cupboard, light cutting over the leather-bound spines of books lining shelves. Pulling one free, he brought it to the table and opened it beside the lamp. Light splashed over yellowed vellum. He ran a long finger over unintelligible symbols, and sparks danced over the page from his fingertip.

  “When the words and the gold resonate, I have the language inscribed at the base of the statue.”

  “And his spell is broken?”

  “No, then I have the written language. The translation will take longer.”

  “How much longer?”

  Marek looked up and something gleamed in his eyes, something that looked like lust and maybe a hint of unease. “You may be in my bed awhile, Ash.”

  * * * * *

  Ash woke at first light and let out a slow breath.

  Marek snored softly against her neck, his muscled arms holding her close, his strong thigh pushed between hers. She hated that she had grown used to him, used to his warm strength wrapping around her in the darkness. It had only been three nights, but the years alone in her single bunk were a faded memory. Sleep now meant naked, male flesh, another heart beating just out of time with her own and empty, dreamless sleep.

  She stroked the hard muscle of his forearm, teasing over the dark hair there. He was a complete contrast to the men she had grown up with, all of them pale, soft-bodied, with too-fine hair. His difference tugged at her as hard as Lucas’ statue. And Marek kept that man at bay, but he’d also done little more than slip into the bed behind her, pull her against his chest and wrap a chill magic around them both. The wild caresses had faded to this simple hold, and by the goddess, that was more dangerous.

  He stirred and his body flexed around hers. He planted a soft kiss on her shoulder and his hips pushed against hers, his erection caught against her backside and then sliding tantalizingly between her cheeks. Ash closed her eyes, silently cursing him. He always did this just before he woke. Played with her, a soft teasing play that rushed need though her flesh.