Page 115 of The Firebrand
Breathe. Breathe. Control.
He flashed on an image of the human female, chained to the bed, spread under him. He lay atop her trapped body, sliding downward, his sharp teeth scraping the creamy skin of her neck, sampling from her breasts, her abdomen. When his head rested between her legs, he feasted from the inside of her thigh near her sex. Her essence rolled down his throat while lust rose in his stomach like bile.
Damn.
Rein wanted Braelyn’s body, her soul. Only her death would release him from her spell.
Instead, he battled the frenzy at the stronghold gym, pounding the bag until his hands crusted over with blood, bench pressing until his arms quivered, running until his legs gave out. With his urges curbed, he showered under cold water to control the sexual desires.
Clothed in comfortable loose sweats, he cross-legged it on a workout mat. As always, his meditation opened with the memory of the painful moment that had brought him to India, where he learned restraint, where he began the journey toward salvation. Now it would save Braelyn’s life.
****
Chaystrode through the door of his family’s home. He tossed off the belt loaded with shuriken and lay the war hammer on the round hall table, careful not to scratch it. Next, he unstrapped hischu-ko-nu. When the butler appeared, eyeing him with distaste, Chay shrugged, accustomed to the sneer, even from the servants.
He looked down at his muscle shirt and jeans, both stained red. “Off to the shower.” He pointed and raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, before he met with more animosity.
In the bedroom Chay no longer thought of as his own, he sloughed off soiled clothing. In the bathroom, he turned on the water, more hot than cold to start. He angled his neck back, letting it flow through his hair. Under the spray, he washed away not only the blood of battle but also the memories. Not of fear.Hell no.Rather of the high he got from fighting.
He was a rough-and-tumble junky. He knew that. Not something most ylves would be proud of. His breed tended toward less violent pursuits.
How had Grandfather felt after a fight?
He wished the male were here again.
Rahime had been a teller of tales. When he was a child, an eager Chay sat on the floor at his grandfather’s feet, listening. Later, as a brash young ylve, he drank in the male’s sense of adventure, desire to protect the realm, excitement in battle. But a renegade incubus killed the hero not long after Chay’s Awakening.
His parents never spoke of Rahime after his death. To them, being a warrior was a less-than-honorable profession.Hell. Firebrands might be lower than cage fighters to his family. At least those brutal males got paid more.
When the brand called, the searing pain burning into flesh, Chay jumped at the offer, aware he was earning his parents’ eternal displeasure. The voice of his grandfather whispered in his ear, telling him it was an honor to be invited, a bigger honor to serve. Once a Firebrand, he learned Rahime was a legend, a mentor, a philosopher-warrior. Chay had found his true home.
He turned the water to cold, letting it freeze his aggression before he joined the family. It was best they not see him amped. Stepping out, Chay grabbed a large towel, drying off, wrapping it around his hips.
He ambled to his closet, feeling in a much more mellow zone. He slipped into low-slung loose jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt that he rolled up on his forearms. Chay thought about shoes but quickly dismissed them. Finger-combing his straight black hair, he prepared to face the sperm donor and helicopter mom, as he liked to think of them.
He bounded down the stairs, pulling up short when he walked into the dining room. Everyone was already seated. Aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, two unknown ylves, and a female of mating age.
Bloody coven. Another fuckmate party. Oh, look, my chair is right next to her. What a coincidence!
Chay flashed a wave before sliding into the open seat. “Sorry I’m late. Business.” He cracked an easygoing smile at the female. “Chay.”
“Anjeli,” she whispered in a breathy upper-class ylven voice, casting her eyes away immediately, a blush on her cheeks.
“Pardon? I didn’t catch that.”
“Anjeli.” She spoke a little louder.
“Nice to meet you.” He thought she shrank back a bit.
“Chayton, darling, we waited for you as long as we could. Then we just decided to start. We have visitors with us this evening. I see you have introduced yourself to the young female. These are her lovely parents, Ena and Nevarth.” His mother, Ameria, pointed to the two unknowns.
They nodded at Chay. “Pleased to meet you.” He had greeted parents of eligible females many times. No new sitch here.
The booming voice of Chay’s father, Jandar, bellowed across the table. “Chayton believes that Scion Firebrand duties take precedence over those of family. That organization has already taken enough from us. My son should be managing the farms. Such a waste.”
Chay bristled but held his tongue. It was a useless argument with no end in sight, one that kept him at the stronghold most nights. He imagined himself on the battlefield, confronting a berserker, swinging his war hammer. Then in the fields planting Gahya knows what.
Oh, yeah. I am definitely in the right job.
