been born to lead it.
Bryn hissed as his blade sliced through the sleeve of her coverall, and she retaliated with a kick to his shin that staggered him. Off-balanced, he fell flat on his back as she connected with another kick, and she leapt on him and pinned him to the floor.
“Did you buy that pretty sword of yours? Doesn’t seem like you earned it,” Bryn taunted.
With a snarl he threw her off and she rolled away. He lunged when they were both on their feet again and pressed her back. Her footwork was good and her reflexes were excellent, but she began to tire. Jace was a shadow sword in top fighting form, and judging by the marks on her throat, Bryn had spent her recent time as a slave.
Finally she faltered, and he took advantage of the opportunity. Jace swept her feet out from under her, and she dropped her sword and it skittered away. Bryn dove after it, but before she reached it Jace grabbed her hair with his free hand and pulled her to her feet, holding her against him.
“Easy, baby. Hair pulling will cost you extra,” she warned.
He bared her neck, intending to sink his teeth into her skin. Cy’ren always went for the throat, in battle and in sex. The instinct to bite her overwhelmed him, but she whipped her head back and it slammed into his.
Jace yelped as pain exploded through his skull like a stun grenade. Bryn jabbed a sharp elbow in his ribs, and he released her. Blood trickled down his chin and he raised his hands to find the source—had she broken his nose? This time she swept his feet out from under him and pinned him to the floor of the armory.
“Pathetic, Morningstar. This is the flagship of the resistance? No wonder we haven’t made any progress.”
He struggled to free himself, but she’d wrenched his arm behind his back and his shoulder joint popped in warning.
“Do you yield?” she asked.
“No,” he growled in reply. His thoughts raced as he scrambled to find a reason that would convince Bryn to yield. Normally Jace was adept at reading people in a negotiation, but his self-control had been shattered by pain, blood and lust. He didn’t know what she wanted aside from Sabine.
Sabine . All she wanted was Sabine. That was his in.
Bryn snorted. “You’d rather I knock your head against the floor?”
“If you want to stay with her, yield to me. There’s no guarantee any other male will agree to take you both, not with your condition. They will simply take her from you. I won’t. I’ll make sure you stay together. I will respect and honor your relationship, and both of you. You have my word.”
For a long moment she was silent. Jace tensed in anticipation of having his head banged against the floor as promised, but she remained still. Sweat and blood slicked his face and dripped onto the deck. His arm ached, but the pain was nothing compared to the damned lust caused by the phase pheromones.
“I want full rights. No bullshit conditions because I can’t breed,” she said.
“I can’t grant you full rights.”
“Sure you can, you’re the second son. I’m sure you always get what you want.” She twisted his arm, and Jace hissed and howled in pain.
“I can’t guarantee that. But I will try, I swear.”
“Good enough. For now. I yield.”
She stepped away and let him up. Jace stumbled to his feet and rubbed feeling back into his numbed arm. His father would skin him alive for asking to grant full mate rights to a barren female, but the thought faded at the blissful, primal realization that the females were his. His mates. Jace and Bryn glared at each other for a tense moment, and then he pounced and covered her mouth with a possessive kiss. Bryn was his, and he was consumed by the instinct to mark her.
Bryn tensed, but he moved to her throat and he bit her. Jace drank deep as though dying of thirst, her fiery taste scorching his veins. She stilled and then shuddered, relaxing against him with a low moan. Jace inhaled—under the sweat, blood and smoke she
Bryn hissed as his blade sliced through the sleeve of her coverall, and she retaliated with a kick to his shin that staggered him. Off-balanced, he fell flat on his back as she connected with another kick, and she leapt on him and pinned him to the floor.
“Did you buy that pretty sword of yours? Doesn’t seem like you earned it,” Bryn taunted.
With a snarl he threw her off and she rolled away. He lunged when they were both on their feet again and pressed her back. Her footwork was good and her reflexes were excellent, but she began to tire. Jace was a shadow sword in top fighting form, and judging by the marks on her throat, Bryn had spent her recent time as a slave.
Finally she faltered, and he took advantage of the opportunity. Jace swept her feet out from under her, and she dropped her sword and it skittered away. Bryn dove after it, but before she reached it Jace grabbed her hair with his free hand and pulled her to her feet, holding her against him.
“Easy, baby. Hair pulling will cost you extra,” she warned.
He bared her neck, intending to sink his teeth into her skin. Cy’ren always went for the throat, in battle and in sex. The instinct to bite her overwhelmed him, but she whipped her head back and it slammed into his.
Jace yelped as pain exploded through his skull like a stun grenade. Bryn jabbed a sharp elbow in his ribs, and he released her. Blood trickled down his chin and he raised his hands to find the source—had she broken his nose? This time she swept his feet out from under him and pinned him to the floor of the armory.
“Pathetic, Morningstar. This is the flagship of the resistance? No wonder we haven’t made any progress.”
He struggled to free himself, but she’d wrenched his arm behind his back and his shoulder joint popped in warning.
“Do you yield?” she asked.
“No,” he growled in reply. His thoughts raced as he scrambled to find a reason that would convince Bryn to yield. Normally Jace was adept at reading people in a negotiation, but his self-control had been shattered by pain, blood and lust. He didn’t know what she wanted aside from Sabine.
Sabine . All she wanted was Sabine. That was his in.
Bryn snorted. “You’d rather I knock your head against the floor?”
“If you want to stay with her, yield to me. There’s no guarantee any other male will agree to take you both, not with your condition. They will simply take her from you. I won’t. I’ll make sure you stay together. I will respect and honor your relationship, and both of you. You have my word.”
For a long moment she was silent. Jace tensed in anticipation of having his head banged against the floor as promised, but she remained still. Sweat and blood slicked his face and dripped onto the deck. His arm ached, but the pain was nothing compared to the damned lust caused by the phase pheromones.
“I want full rights. No bullshit conditions because I can’t breed,” she said.
“I can’t grant you full rights.”
“Sure you can, you’re the second son. I’m sure you always get what you want.” She twisted his arm, and Jace hissed and howled in pain.
“I can’t guarantee that. But I will try, I swear.”
“Good enough. For now. I yield.”
She stepped away and let him up. Jace stumbled to his feet and rubbed feeling back into his numbed arm. His father would skin him alive for asking to grant full mate rights to a barren female, but the thought faded at the blissful, primal realization that the females were his. His mates. Jace and Bryn glared at each other for a tense moment, and then he pounced and covered her mouth with a possessive kiss. Bryn was his, and he was consumed by the instinct to mark her.
Bryn tensed, but he moved to her throat and he bit her. Jace drank deep as though dying of thirst, her fiery taste scorching his veins. She stilled and then shuddered, relaxing against him with a low moan. Jace inhaled—under the sweat, blood and smoke she
Similar Books
