Page 42 of Courting War
The pounding of her heart was like the rhythm of battle, the clashing of shields, the firing of guns, the battle cry of an ancient warrior.
And he was a warrior, too.
His body was built by training and battle. He smelled like a mixture of musk, leather, and sandalwood, with a hint of sensual ardor. But what called to Theo was the way he tasted. He tasted like salt, cherries, and ambrosia—like the nectar of divinity.
When his hands were finally released, the warrior proved how skilled he could be. Theo shouldn’t have been surprised because she’d seen his skills with a carving knife—his agile fingers—but this mortal wastalented.
He laced said fingers into her hair and pulled her closer, devouring her with sin and electric energy.
The champion’s legs unfroze, but their tempest didn’t stop. Instead, he lifted her, the books beneath her feet toppling—exerting almost no effort and his hands slid along her upper thighs as he pinned her against the bookshelves. The movement knocked over a bust.
The passion, the tension, the pure need between them could light the library on fire—could light the world on fire.
It’d been a thousand years—at least—since Theo’d taken a lover—since she’d even thought about carnal desire. The feeling was new and enchanting.
And it was magic.
It was in the humanness of her body—its frail nature, erratic heart, and a chance for death at any minute—that awoke an unfamiliar, untamable desire. A hunger. A potent need. And it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
Theo had lovers before, but nothing compared to the feeling of being mortal. The life that surged throughthisbody. Pain was heightened tenfold as a human, but so was her pleasure.
Theo stiffened.
Shehadto stop this . . .now.
Pulling her lips away, she panted as two humans entered the room, their eyes latching onto Medusa, stone crawling up their forms.
Chapter Fourteen
THEODRA
Extremely Enraged Ex-God
LIGHT’S MIRROR
Theo panted, her chest rising in a frantic rhythm. The champion still held her up, his fingers clutching her thighs.
He glanced toward the two new statues. The champion and priestess from Tierland. Their deaths were unfortunate, but not Theo’s problem. They were victims of the Sacrifice, and the Sacrifice was designed to cause death. Theo wouldn’t steal this victory from her sister—Andromache. So, she raised her hand and blocked her champion’s view of the Gorgon. She couldn’t risk saving him again. Whatever feeling stirred in her body when they kissed needed to be eradicated.
Forever.
Theo cleared her throat. “We need to get moving.” Her eyes landed on his hands, still holding her thighs.
The champion touched his forehead to hers and grunted his typical big brutish grunt. Then he sighed and slowly lowered her to the ground. Theo’s feet touched gently, exemplifying the young man’s strength and control.
He still stood close, his eyes swimming with desire. Theo’s breath caught, and that foreign feeling burst through her again.
“That meant nothing.” She bit her swollen lower lip. “It was only to free you.” Her heart surged, and she cursed herself for letting their passion extend that far.
He grunted again and nodded. “Just to free me.” He rolled back his shoulders and shook out his arms, and an unknowable expression danced on his cheeks until he schooled it. “Thank you for saving me.”
“I wouldn’t have, but . . .” she lifted her chained wrist.
He grunted again—most likely an affirmation. Did he only know how to grunt? It was like his primary language was grunts, Theodic his second, and the common tongue his third.
Without telling him what she was doing or where she was going, Theo marched toward the exit back to the hallway. “Make sure you don’t look,” she said as she pulled at her chain and forced him to follow.
“Doesn’t the challenge lie with Medusa?”
