Page 32 of Stolen

Rowena raked a dismissive gaze down my body. “Not as beautiful as the rumors said.”

“A halfling,” Varick spat. “Stupid little girl.”

Laurent bent in a low bow, then straightened with gleaming silver eyes. “You were a fun tumble, princess, I’ll give you that.” He opened a door and stepped back, his arm stretched along the panel. He winked and lowered his voice. “But I never really wanted a wife.”

The voices cut off. The room was another dusty, ruined chamber, but the bed in the center of it looked sturdy. Varick stood beside it wearing his dust-covered clothes and the haggard expression I was used to seeing. But I couldn’t be sure it was really him. I couldn’t be sure of anything.

Midian glided to a chair next to the bed. He sat and angled himself so he faced it. He made a show of arranging his heavy mantle and smoothing his long hair. Then he raised his hands in an expectant gesture. “Well?”

Varick hadn’t taken his eyes off Midian since the demon king entered. He stared at him hard now, so much anger on his face he practically vibrated with it.

Midian slid a slow, taunting gaze from me to Varick, and the demon king’s face became Laurent’s. “This is what I want, baby,” he said in Laurent’s voice. “You’re not indifferent to her. We’ve shared women before. We’ll share a wife.”

Dread dropped like a rock in my stomach. Bile burned a fiery path up my throat. I swallowed convulsively because I was not going to vomit and give Midian the satisfaction of doing something abhorrent with it.

“I won’t do it,” Varick said hoarsely. “I won’t—”

“You’ll do it here,” Midian replied, “or we’ll return to the Hall and you can fuck on the table in front of my court.” He shrugged. “Your choice.”

Varick was going to do something brave and stupid. I could sense it like a storm gathering on the horizon. But there was nowhere to shelter. We were both too exhausted to fight Midian’s illusions. We could either give him what he wanted now, or refuse and end up giving it to him anyway—but only after he made us suffer.

“All right,” I said, and I went to the bed and started unbuttoning my gown. Varick stood at my side and watched, his golden eyes flooded with pain and outrage. I couldn’t risk speaking to him, so I tried to coax him into going along by showing I was all right. We would get it over with and we would be alive. Nothing else mattered. My fingers were steady as I pushed my dress down my hips and let it fall to the floor. I went to work on the silky garters that held up my stockings.

At last, Varick moved. He undressed before I finished, and when I pulled my chemise over my head, he took it from me and set it aside.

I climbed on the bed and lay on my back, my nipples puckered with fear and humiliation. He came down on top of me, his warrior’s body a warm, heavy weight. He covered me completely, shielding me from Midian’s gaze. His fingers found my hip that was farthest from Midian and impossible for the demon to see. Varick stroked me there, a caress that could have been sensual to anyone watching us. But I knew it wasn’t. It was reassurance. A promise.

I have you, it said. Even in this, the worst of all possible circumstances, he had me. We would endure, and we would live.

Midian was a heavy, malevolent presence at my side, but Varick was heavier. His hips nestled between mine, and his lips found my temple. Warm breath stirred my hair. Our hearts thudded together. His body pressed me deeper into the bed, his flesh and bone and blood against mine. I turned my face into the side of his neck and breathed him in, feeling my lungs expand. Letting him fill me up.

His fingers stroked my hip. I have you.

I had him, too. I could take us somewhere else. It was so much easier than I thought. Like Igrith’s fire in my hand, all I had to do was reach for it. But this gift was mine. My birthright. It was right there on my fingertips. I closed my eyes and seized it.

Grass tickled my back. Varick rose above me, sunlight over his shoulder. Our gazes locked, and I saw myself reflected in his eyes, my pale hair spread over the grass and my blue eyes wide with wonder. Tiny white blossoms drifted around us. I’d been coming here all my life, I realized, escaping to this place I’d mistaken for a dream. There was no dust or degradation here. We were safe in the grass under the bright blue sky.

But Midian had been here before.

A gray cloud swept over the sun. The temperature dropped.

“No,” Varick’s deep, rough voice said in my mind. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

Yes. I remembered that now. The Middling was whatever I wished it to be. I could protect Varick here, and I didn’t need fists or weapons to do it. There was power in that. It flowed from me, brightening the sky and setting the grass swaying.

And it flowed through me, concentrating in the lick of heat that danced low in my belly. Instinctively, I reached for that, too, holding it in my mind and letting it grow.

It swelled rapidly, becoming far too much for me to contain. So I released it, letting it flow where it willed. It rushed to my nipples and the apex of my thighs. I gasped, my hips rolling as damp heat flooded me.

Varick’s fingers continued stroking my hip, grounding us in the sweet-smelling grass. His eyes burned, twin suns surrounded by thick lashes. He held himself still, the muscles in his broad shoulders tensing with the effort. Tendons stood out in his neck, and strain showed in the tight set of his jaw and the lines between his brows. He was strength and power poised above me. The ground was hard and unyielding beneath me. And yet, I wasn’t crushed.

And I wasn’t helpless. Not here, in this in-between place I could make and unmake. I could pull power from the grass and the sky and the sun, and I could keep the darkness out. There was no life in that other place. Only death and pain. But I could make pleasure. Somehow, I understood that the life pulsing in the clearing and the tingling in my breasts and between my thighs were the same—and that one fueled the other.

The power built and flowed faster. I welcomed it, opening my legs and letting the air kiss my hot, aching entrance. Varick’s eyes burned brighter. His stroking fingers moved up my ribs and hovered near my breast.

“Touch me,” I whispered, taking his hand and guiding it to my taut nipple. My command joined the flow of power, my whisper repeating and overlapping until it became a soft breeze that teased my heated skin. It slid up my legs and teased between my thighs, stroking over my clit and making me moan and spread my legs wider. More cool whispers touched my nipples. The hard points tightened further, the tips turning a dark, dusky pink.

Varick shuddered as he plucked at one eager peak. He was hard and hot against my thigh, and I remembered how thoroughly he’d filled me before, his thick cock giving no quarter as he stretched me to the limit. I wanted that heat and stretch again. More than that, I needed it. Some long-forgotten knowledge ascended, rising from the depths of my being to hover at the very top of my mind. It spread through me the same as the heat, telling me without words what I needed to do. There was power in pleasure, the same as there was power in blood.

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