Saving Daylight Read online

  Friends with benefits, as he’d called it, only there hadn’t been any benefits since that first night.

  Like every night, she lay alone in her bed, struggling to find sleep. That nightmare continued to haunt her, lurking just behind her closed eyelids. Her children, swept away by a flood of demons.

  She shivered at the memory.

  It was a warning. She didn’t know who was giving it—the seer Sibyl, the luceria, or something else entirely—but she would be a fool not to heed it.

  The lives of her possible future children were at stake. No matter what else she had to sacrifice, or how much pride she had to swallow, she couldn’t let them down.

  She had to find a way to strengthen her bond to Morgan, and without allowing herself to love him, there was only one way she could think to make progress.

  On bare feet, she padded through the gerai house to his room. She didn’t knock, but turned the knob and slipped inside the dark space.

  He knelt on the floor, meditating, gloriously naked, his sword on the floor in front of him.

  As soon as she came in, he rose gracefully to his feet, sword in hand. “Is something wrong?”

  He really was a magnificently built man, with powerful limbs covered in thick muscles under smooth, dark skin. He was unselfconscious about his nudity, utterly confident, which only made him that much more appealing.

  The branches of his lifemark were still mostly bare, which gave her a moment of concern. Once they bonded, his tree was supposed to bud and replenish itself—proving she’d stopped the decay of his soul. But that hadn’t happened.

  “What’s wrong with your lifemark?” she asked, forgetting her purpose.

  He shrugged as if it didn’t bother him, but the movement lacked his usual fluid power.

  He was worried too.

  “Give it time,” he said. “It’s only been a week.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “Who’s to say what normal is anymore. Don’t let it bother you. Tell me why you’re here.” He lifted his jeans from a nearby chair to dress.

  “Don’t,” she said, remembering why she’d come. “I like you naked.”

  He gave her a half smile. “Is this some kind of power play? I stay naked while you’re fully dressed?”

  “I would never manipulate you like that.” And to prove it, she pulled her night gown over her head to bare herself. “See? Now we’re even.”

  Sultry heat took over his expression. “Hardly. But you won’t hear me complain.”

  She stepped forward, forcing herself to be bold. Take what she wanted. “I want to make love.”

  Immediately, she winced at her choice of words. Love was forbidden.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I want to...fuck.” That was the word one used when there was a physical act with no emotion, wasn’t it? She’d heard it used often since returning from her prison, though it was possible she was missing some context. The word seemed to be everywhere.

  He gave her a steady stare. “Why?”

  “You don’t want to?” She suddenly wished for something to cover herself. An embarrassed flush started at her brow and swept down her face and neck, then onto her chest.

  She’d completely misjudged this situation. Morgan wasn’t interested in her as a lover, and now she had to find a way out. Fast.

  “I didn’t say that. I just wanted to know why you want to do this.”

  “To widen our conduit.”

  He flinched as though she’d slapped him. “I see.”

  “Our bond isn’t progressing the way it should. I thought if we…” she trailed off, unsure how to explain herself.

  “You thought if we fucked, it would fix what’s broken,” he said, his tone flat.

  “You don’t think it will?”

  “No, but I’ll still fuck you. Any sane man would.”

  There was a strange look in his eyes, something dark and hollow.

  She hadn’t seen this side of him before, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

  “Lay down and spread your legs, Serena.” His cock swelled and lengthened as he spoke, and while it made her mouth go dry with need, this wasn’t at all what she’d wanted. It was too cold, too empty.

  “I think I’ve made a mistake,” she said as she snatched up her nightgown and slid it over her head.

  He caught her before she could slip her arms through the sleeves. His big hands slid around her body, caging her inside the soft cotton fabric.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

  Her chin went up out of habit, and she looked right into his eyes. “You didn’t.”

  “Then why run?”

  “I won’t be used,” she said, though that wasn’t the only reason.

  She needed his warmth, his passion. She wanted to get lost in the physical pleasures their bodies could provide so that her insides didn’t feel quite so empty.

  There was something missing between them. Something huge and vital. If she didn’t figure out how to bridge the gap, she feared their bond would never strengthen.

  If it didn’t, how would they be strong enough to find the source of the demon invasion? How would they ever protect their children?

  Her parents had never loved each other, but they’d found a way to be a formidable pair. Serena needed to figure out what she and Morgan were lacking—what her parents had that she and Morgan didn’t—before it was too late.

  He cursed under his breath. “Using you was never my intent.”

  He took a long step back and scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said. Her voice wavered with insecurity as much as fear. “We’re not strong enough yet. Your lifemark is still bare. I keep trying to figure out how to widen the connection between us, but nothing I try works.”

  He looked at her for a long moment as if making some important decision—a very difficult one.

  She slid her nightgown in place and waited for him to wade through whatever was going on in his mind.

  She thought she felt a flicker of guilt pulsing through their link, but she couldn’t be sure. Her emotions were so chaotic right now, that feeling could have been all hers.

  After a few seconds, he seemed to reach a decision. He nodded once, then took her hands in his. “You’re right. What we’re doing isn’t working. It’s time to try something else.”

  She opened her mouth to ask what, but his lips covered hers before she could.

  The kiss was soft, sweet.

  Loving.

  Tears stung her eyes as memories of Iain’s kisses filled her mind. He’d kissed her just like this when she’d been a young girl, when their love had overwhelmed them both and become their whole world.

  She didn’t want to think about him while with another man. She didn’t want to think about him at all, but how could she not? He’d been the center of her universe for so long, she didn’t know how to move past him.

  Morgan lifted his face. “It takes time, honey. But I promise, the pain will fade. Just keep moving forward, and one day, he won’t be your first waking thought when you get up, or the last one you have before you drift off to sleep.”

  Had he read her thoughts? Or was she merely that transparent?

  “I’ve been where you are,” he continued, his voice soft and low. “I know how much it hurts. But it does get easier to bear. Eventually.”

  She managed a weak nod.

  He took her hand, pulled her to his bed and peeled back the covers in invitation.

  Serena slipped inside the cool sheets. He got in behind her, but rather than pursuing sex, as she’d expected, he simply wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

  His warm breath swept over her hair. His thumbs caressed her arms in a low, mesmerizing sweep that calmed her nerves and eased her worries. The heat of his skin sank into her, forcing her to relax, and the strength of his embrace made her feel safe, protected.

  She lay there for a long time, simply listening to him breathe
. It was nice not to feel so alone—to feel like she had a place where she belonged.

  For the first night in a long, long time, Iain’s face wasn’t the last one she pictured before drifting off to sleep.

  ***

  Link woke to pain.

  He was used to the grinding pressure the magic he carried caused, but this was different—sharper and shallow, more about flesh than spirit.

  He tried to open his eyes, but his lashes were glued together somehow. All he could manage was a thin slit through which he could see very little. His lashes formed a spiderweb network across his field of vision.

  The last thing he remembered was marching into a cave near Dabyr, dead set on proving his worth to Joseph Rayd and all those who followed his leadership.

  After that, nothing. There were no memories of how he got here, wherever here was.

  Wherever he was it was dark. Humid. He pulled a few sparks of power from the surrounding air into himself and used them to fuel his night vision. Each pinpoint of energy stung his battered skin, biting at him like tiny insects. Even so, he continued drawing in the power he needed to see, because the giant pool of energy that lay inside of him was unreachable, off limits. Only a woman compatible with him could tap into that reservoir and ease the bulging agony of carrying so much.

  When he’d finally collected enough sparks from the air to enhance his vision, he saw rock walls, tearstained from millennia of dripping water.

  He was in a cave. The hollow echo of each drip and a strange, scratching noise told him that the space he was in must be large, though he couldn’t seem to turn his head to see more of it.

  At the base of the far wall opposite him was a pile of something gray. Rocks from a cave-in? Some natural formation? He couldn’t tell. His vision was blocked by lashes matted together with blood.

  That’s when he smelled it. Blood. Lots of it.

  Panic sparked along his skin. He tried to sit up, only to realize that he wasn’t lying down. He was standing upright. Only that wasn’t exactly right, either. There was no weight on his legs. All his weight was being supported by his shoulders, which were on fire. There were more sources of his pain—too many to sort them all.

  He was tied by his wrists, dangling from some kind of rope or chain.

  Link strained his neck to look down. His head wasn’t bound, but something was wrong with his neck or back, impeding his movement. He hoped he was only stiff from being held here for too long, but instincts warned him that his injuries might be worse than that.

  Below him were half a dozen gray, furless demons he’d heard reports about. They were humanoid, but taller, with wide heads and huge, shiny black eyes. There were more of them across the space. What he’d thought were rocks was a pile of them, either dead or sleeping—he couldn’t tell which. They were all clumped up as if tossed there like bags of rubbish.

  Link struggled to pull his lashes free. The strain made his eyes water, which helped to wash out some of the coagulated mess. He couldn’t see perfectly, but his vision was less obstructed now.

  As soon as he looked down again, he wished he hadn’t been able to see a thing.

  Blood dripped from his feet. He still wore his jeans and socks, but his shoes had been taken off or lost.

  Past his bloody socks, he saw several of those gray creatures lurking beneath him, mouths open, scrambling and shoving each other to see who would catch the next drop of his blood in their mouths.

  That’s what the scratching sound was, he realized—demons jockeying for the best position.

  He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here, but the throbbing in his head told him that he’d been hit there, hard. Possibly more than once.

  Perhaps that was why he couldn’t remember how he’d come to be here.

  Link was dizzy and nauseated. His body was a mass of aches and pains. As he took a mental inventory, he guessed that he had at least one broken rib, and something was wrong with his left side. His neck didn’t move right. He was bleeding from at least one place, possibly more. There was no way to tell without being able to better see his body.

  What he could see was blood soaking his shirt along his left ribs. Something protruded from his side far enough he could catch a glimpse of rusty metal.

  There were dozens of crude swords lying about. Chances were the thing sticking out of him was a piece of one of those.

  Something about this whole situation was wrong.

  These creatures didn’t seem overly intelligent. How had they captured him, tied him up and hoisted him up here? And why had they bothered? Why hadn’t they just eaten him when he’d been unconscious? Why was he still alive?

  He didn’t have any more time to ponder the question. One of the creatures saw that he was awake, and as soon as it did, it let out a howling screech. That shrill cry of alarm drew the attention of every demon present, including those that had been piled together, sleeping.

  Dozens of huge, black and red eyes landed on his bleeding, broken body, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to save himself from whatever they were going to do to him.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Serena woke to the most glorious sensation.

  Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, gilding Morgan’s dark hair with a golden glow.

  Her nightgown was rucked up, baring her breasts to his mouth. He licked and suckled gently, while his clever fingers slid along the lips of her sex.

  Without thought, she spread her legs to give him access, and arched toward his powerful body.

  His fingers found the slick heat between her thighs. A low rumble of approval vibrated against her and sent an army of shivers marching across her skin.

  He lifted his head and stared into her eyes while he moved over her and slid his thick, hard manhood inside her.

  Her eyes fluttered against the pleasure of being filled so completely. She tried to find words, but he covered her mouth with his, effectively silencing her.

  What good were words, anyway? She had everything she needed right here, right now. Her body was starving for his, and she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of having him.

  His pace was slow and languid. Each stroke glided across nerves that set her body alight and pushed her right where he wanted her to go. As gentle as he was, he was also demanding, giving her no choice but to accept what he wanted to give her.

  When he wanted her kisses, he took them. When he wanted her to look at him, he held her gaze captive. And when he wanted to drive her to the edge of pleasure, he did so with expert ease.

  Everything he did heightened her senses and made her hover on the brink of climax. When she got close, he would slow down or change his rhythm so she couldn’t quite reach the peak.

  She was too groggy from sleep to understand what kind of game he was playing, and too swept away in the touch of his hands on her skin to care. She let him do as he pleased, and simply went along for the ride.

  When she didn’t think she could take any more of his teasing, he kissed her again and stared into her eyes. He said nothing, but she could feel his will singing through the luceria, urging her not to look away.

  Serena didn’t know why this was so important to him, but she could sense that if she didn’t play along, he’d deny her release.

  That, she couldn’t allow.

  His hips sped. He took her deeper, hitting a special place inside her she didn’t even know she possessed. Each gliding stroke rubbed his erection across the tight bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex. In the back of her mind, she knew this amazing bit of flesh had a name, but her mother never taught her such things and she wasn’t allowed time alone with friends who might whisper the word to her in a girlish giggle.

  She made herself a promise to find out what it was called, because she needed to be able to tell Morgan what she wanted in the future.

  What he was doing now definitely needed to happen again. Often.

  He wrapped a thick arm around her hips and rolled his against her, pressi
ng their bodies together in a slow, languid circle. That’s all it took to send her careening into climax.

  Morgan was only a split second behind her.

  She grabbed onto his power and forced it to wrap around them in a shimmering bubble. Inside, time slowed to a luxurious stretch, allowing them to linger in the sensations of the flesh for far longer than was normal for most people.

  She held his gaze as she felt his seed fill her. She held his gaze as her body fluttered and shimmered in the midst of keen pleasure. She even held his gaze when the luceria throbbed around her throat, and the conduit between them stretched and widened.

  When it was finally over, and she could once again pull in a full breath, she released his power and let time flow at its normal pace once again.

  Sweat dotted his forehead. His breathing was fast, but steady. He brushed her hair away from her forehead and gave her the softest, sweetest kiss she’d ever had.

  It was in that moment, Serena realized her mistake.

  She didn’t love Morgan yet, but she could. She didn’t want to—didn’t want to risk the pain of being hurt again. Even worse, he’d been very clear that he couldn’t—wouldn’t—love her back.

  She believed him.

  He’d had a lot of time to get over the death of his wife. That he hadn’t, told Serena it wasn’t likely to happen. He was committed to Femi on a level so deep, Serena knew she had no place there.

  He and Femi had lived a lifetime together. Serena had only had a few years with Iain. How could she possibly understand the depths of Morgan’s devotion? Of his grief?

  He gave her another, briefer kiss, then rose from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Serena felt his warmth dissipate from the bed and her body. She didn’t understand how her world had changed so much in such a short time, but if she didn’t do something to slow down her descent, she was going to end up in love with a man who could never love her back.

  ***

  Morgan had made a terrible mistake.

  All he’d wanted to do was draw him and Serena closer together in an effort to strengthen the flow of power between them, as well as revive his lifemark. Instead, he’d made love to her.