Page 20 of Wild Bond (Wild Bond #1)

I woke in my bed the next morning to find Skye was asleep next to me on my pillow, her snout tucked under her delicate jade wing. I loved when she was in her minor form. Her eyes blinked open, waking as I did.

I wished her good morning, but quickly changed that to evening when I stood and realized that the sky through my window was that of late evening rather than early morning.

I had slept the entire day away. After everything that had happened yesterday, I wasn’t surprised. I wondered faintly what excuse, if any, had been given to my instructors. I knew Zade or Rake would have at least told Dembe.

Yawning and stretching, I took account of my body. My shoulder no longer pained me, and the small cuts and bruises I had sustained were now completely healed. I no longer felt that soul deep exhaustion that I had before, but even after sleeping an entire day, I still felt like I could crawl back into my bed and continue for another one.

The thought was tempting, but first things first. I needed a bath. My clothing felt stiff against my skin, and I was still covered in dirt and grime and dried blood. I also tried not to think of the state of my hair or what I probably smelled like.

It was sometime later that I was floating on my back in the pool, watching the white-blonde strands of my hair float around me. It appeared almost silver in the dark water. Only the dim light of the torches lit the stone chamber of the bathhouse.

Luckily, it was late enough that I didn’t have to worry about seeing anyone else. Most of the other trainees and riders were still at the evening meal or in bed. I took particular joy in bathing in the large, heated bathing pools that were located on the far side of the rider compound. When I lived in the lower city, the only baths I had were few and far between, mostly when it rained. And in prison, they had been nonexistent. After spending what felt like almost my entire life being dirty, I now relished the opportunity to be clean. I luxuriated in using the good smelling soaps and conditioners to wash my hair and body, and that was also why I often lingered long after most of the other female trainees left.

I was entirely alone save for Skye, who was in her minor form, curled up asleep on the edge of the pool. This, after having spent nearly a half an hour launching herself into the water from the edge of the pool, diving to the bottom, then dramatically leaping from the water only to do it all over again.

Earlier, it had felt like with every scrub of my skin, everything that had happened, both good and bad, the flying, the market, meeting Leah, Valla being shot down, the man I had killed, the griffin and my near-death experience . . . all of it was washed away.

As I trailed my hand through the water, my eyes snagged on the ring Rake had given me. It was all I had left from yesterday. I had lost my bag of trinkets at some point during our skirmish with the griffins and the mercenaries . . . or kidnappers . . . or whatever they were. All those pointless but precious gifts gone forever.

I stared up at the ceiling tiles, not focusing on anything in particular as I floated. When I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, I gasped and jerked upright out of the water.

Rake stood at the side of the pool, staring unabashedly down at me.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed, quickly crossing my arms over my chest to cover my breasts and crouching down into the steaming water so that it lapped at my shoulders.

He stood there so casually, his dark hair gleaming in the dim torchlight. He said nothing.

“Well?” I demanded. “Why are you here? This is the women’s bath.”

“You and Skye are the only ones here. I had Naasir check for me.”

I gave him an incredulous look.

Rake tapped the side of his nose. “His sense of smell is quite accurate. Yours were the only scents in here.”

I hadn’t realized dragons’ sense of smell was that strong. Vaguely, I was aware of Naasir in his minor form greeting Skye at the side of the large pool.

I shook my head and glared up at Rake. “You still shouldn’t be in here.”

“We need to talk.”

I balked. “So, you stalked me to the bathhouse?”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “We need to talk about yesterday.”

Before I could respond, I spotted Skye and Naasir leaving, both dragons striding calmly toward the exit.

Where are you going?

Images of Naasir and Rake and the two of us standing alone flashed through my mind. Accompanied with the emotions, I understood that Naasir had told my dragon Rake wanted to be alone with me.

So, you’re just leaving me? I demanded.

She gave a mental shrug. Mate .

Wait . . . what? Mate? What do you mean mate? I spluttered internally, completely ignoring the fact that Skye had just used an actual word to communicate, when she rarely did so. At least for any word other than shiny.

Her only reply was to send me an image of Rake.

My heart skipped a beat. You think Rake’s my mate?! He’s not my mate! He’s just . . . just . . . Well, Realms , I couldn’t put a name to what he was.

Skye didn’t respond, and I didn’t know if she was even listening to me anymore. All I felt was a wave of exasperation from her as she and Naasir disappeared out the exit.

I knew ‘mate’ was just her animal way of saying she thought we belonged together, but still—something about the term sounded too primal.

There was a loud splash to my left, and I turned in surprise to see Rake had jumped into the pool.

And he was naked.

My jaw dropped open in shock. That broad chest and all that bronze muscled skin was on full display. My eyes couldn’t help but trail down his body to where the water reached his waist and concealed his lower half from view. The swirling black ink on his side caught my gaze, and I was finally able to decipher what it was—a dragon curling amidst smoke and flames. The design was made up of harsh, simple, masculine lines. When I finished my perusal and met his stare, I nearly gasped at the look of carefully banked heat in his eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he warned, “or this conversation will be a lot shorter than we need it to be.”

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore my body’s reaction to his words. “What conversation? What is so important that you felt you had to invade my privacy and disrupt my peaceful bath to come talk to me about it?”

“I wanted to make sure you were all right after everything that happened yesterday.”

“Why do you care?” I countered. Feeling foolish to still be crouching down in the water like a scared child, I rose up to my full height, keeping my arms folded across my chest. The water reached to just below my ribs, and I shivered slightly as the chill air hit my wet skin.

His eyes immediately ran over my body, much the same way mine had done to him, lingering for an instant on my not so concealed curves. “Of course, I care.”

Part of me thrilled at the look in his eyes, and from his earlier words and what I thought he was implying, but another part was frustrated and angry. Not to mention confused.

“All day yesterday you were hot and cold. First you act like nothing’s happened between us, then you’re flirting with me and buying me gifts and then you kiss me again . I don’t have any idea where I stand with you.” I sighed. “I’m not blaming you. I understand why you’re unsure. I mean . . . I’m me and you’re you. I just can’t tell whether you want to explore what’s between us, or if you simply wish to remain my instructor and nothing more.”

Those penetrating eyes regarded me closely. “That’s all I should be,” he replied. “And up until yesterday, that’s all I intended to be. I let my emotions get the better of me in that alley, and despite your response when I kissed you, I knew you were still wary of me. I spent the last several weeks while I was away, convincing myself that I had imagined how right you felt in my arms. You seemed to want us to keep our distance, so I thought I could do that. That I could leave you alone and not pursue you . . . pursue this. But that’s all changed. I’ve made my decision, and I’m done fighting it.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, ignoring how my heart leapt at his words. “What changed?”

For once, as he stared at me, I could see the raw emotion roiling behind his eyes before he spoke. “You almost died.”

“What?”

“What changed is that you almost died!” he nearly shouted, the words echoing around us.

I reared back, never having seen his cool facade crack quite like this before. He saw my reaction and took a calming breath, his nostrils flaring slightly and his chest expanding with the effort.

“You almost died,” he repeated, much more slowly this time, his voice much softer, “and I couldn’t save you . . . couldn’t reach you.” He ran an agitated hand through his wet hair. “I saw you on that griffin . . . watched you fall . . . and I knew in that moment that I was going to lose you, and there was absolutely nothing I could do. Before I had even . . .” he trailed off and his eyes were like burning coals as they seared into me. I was reminded of how he stared at me yesterday after our kiss, that look of sheer purpose. “When I realized you were all right, I resolved right then that none of the excuses mattered. I want you, and I’m going to let myself have you.”

I gaped. For a moment my mind refused to work. Instead of allowing me to take in the meaning behind his words, I fixated on the last part of what he had just said.

“You’re going to let yourself have me?” I repeated incredulously.

He nodded as a slow, very male grin spread across his lips.

“And what if I don’t want that? What if I want to keep you at a distance?”

“Do you?”

“Yes?” I replied, but somehow it came out sounding more like a question.

His brows narrowed. “Does this have anything to do with what you said on the practice fields that day I sparred with Dembe?”

“What?” I asked taken aback.

He took another step closer. “When you said you thought I would prefer Daisha’s company to yours, and what you said just now about you understanding why I would be unsure about you?”

I knew exactly what he was talking about now, but I decided to play dumb.

“What are you asking?” My voice shook slightly. Curse the Nine , the man missed nothing and had a ridiculous memory. I would have to remember that.

His gaze met mine. We were mere feet apart now. Desire practically crackled in the air between us. “Is that why you think we should keep our distance? You think you’re not good enough for me?”

I opened my mouth to give a flippant response, then hesitated. Something about the utter stillness around us, the warmth of the pool, the quiet intent in his eyes as they searched mine as if my answer was important to him, made me want to speak the truth.

I sighed. “Yes, okay. Yes.”

He watched me closely, giving nothing away. “How can you believe that?”

“Of course, I can, Rake!” I snapped, my ire rising now. I swung my arms out, forgetting to cover myself in my frustration. “How could I not when you’re . . .,” I gestured up and down his impressive frame, “. . . all that you are. You’re Kyan Rakim. Ruling member of the rider council, spymaster, a war hero . . . You are bonded to one of the most powerful dragons in Baldor and are one of the most influential men in Palasia. And that’s not even considering the age difference. And I’m just—”

“Stop,” he said, glaring down at me from his much greater height. I tried valiantly not to notice the water droplets trailing between the toned ridges of his stomach as he spoke. “Let’s get one thing straight. Yes, I am older than you, and yes, I am a member of the council and happen to be the queen’s spymaster.” He took another step closer to me, the dark water swirling around his lean hips. “But that does not make me better than you or make you somehow unworthy of me.”

“How can it not?” I lifted a hand up to stop him when his mouth opened to reply. “Please let me get this out.” His mouth closed, but I could see the frustration in his eyes. I sighed and had to resist rubbing my scar. “I know you don’t think you’re better than me. But come on, it would be na?ve to think that who you are doesn’t have any bearing in our relationship, or whatever this is between us.” I raised my hands. “And you are older than me and more experienced in almost everything.”

Something flashed in his eyes at that last bit that I refused to acknowledge as I continued my tirade, realizing I had been holding this in for some time and it was a relief to get it all out in the open.

“And yes, I am a rider now, but a few months ago I was just a thief . . . an orphaned gutter rat whose greatest accomplishment until then was stealing a sword. And I didn’t even do that right.”

Rake’s face gave away nothing at my assessment, and I had no idea what he was thinking.

I stared at him, my breathing heavy. I had barely taken a breath. “What could I possibly offer you?” I said, letting my hands splash down into the water. I had to give him credit, because his eyes remained on my face. I glanced away. “And after meeting Leah . . .” My voice had gotten quiet, as I thought back to the beautiful, older, more experienced woman. I sucked in a breath and looked back at him, “Why would you ever want to be with me?”

“Because we have more in common than you think.”

“Really?” I challenged, not trying very hard to keep the doubt from my tone and feeling suddenly vulnerable.

He stared at me for a long moment before he finally admitted, “I grew up on the streets of Taveran. My mother was Baldorian. I never knew who my father was, except that he was Zehvitian and must have been wealthy, because he paid for a house in the city for us. My mother told me he was married and that he was with his wife out of duty, not love, but that he loved us both. Then, when I was eleven, something changed, and we had to leave the city. My mother said it was too dangerous for us to live there any longer. When we returned to Baldor and sought out her parents, they wanted nothing to do with her or her part-Zehvitian bastard. My mother died shortly after.”

My heart clenched at the pain I heard in his voice, and I couldn’t help thinking of my own mother’s death.

“I survived in the city on my own for two years. I found a group of boys my age to run with. We protected each other. Then, during the Bonding Celebrations when I was thirteen, we had a chance to be presented to the unbonded dragons at the Nest, so we took it.” A small smile quirked his lips. “No one was more shocked than I when Naasir bonded with me. I was the oldest person to bond a dragon in recent memory . . . until you.”

We stared at each other. The weight of all he had said coming to rest on me, along with the realization that I had misjudged him, or at least made assumptions about him that I maybe shouldn’t have. I had thought he must have grown up wealthy and hailed from a prominent rider bloodline—even if it was a Zehvitian one. But he hadn’t. He was a bastard who lost his mother at an early age and spent several years of his life growing up on the streets. Our pasts were more similar than I could have ever thought possible.

I was startled from my thoughts when a warm finger touched my cheek. I stared up into those shocking blue eyes. When had he gotten so close?

When he spoke, his tone was calmer and more measured than before. “I am not na?ve, Rin. I know there are obstacles, but I am determined not to let that affect what is between us or what I feel for you. And as for why I want to be with you . . .,” he stared down at me, those liquid eyes blazing. “It’s because you fascinate me. You have more reason than most to be jaded and angry at the world, but you’re not. Instead, you’re kind, recklessly curious, and have no sense of entitlement. I’ve watched you confront every challenge put in your path. And you risked your life to save Valla and Zade without a moment’s hesitation.”

My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I could tell he meant every word, and I wanted so badly to believe him.

“And,” he added almost as an afterthought, “if what I’ve surmised from the little you’ve told me is correct, you were only caught stealing the sword because you were helping a friend. I find that admirable, not a testament to your lack of skill.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are impossible and determined to miss my point.”

“No, I see your point. I’m just telling you I don’t care.”

I gaped. “How can you not care? What will other people think when they see us together?”

“I don’t care what other people think . . . I haven’t for a long time.” He gripped the nape of my neck and tilted my head up toward him. The thumb of his other hand traced over my lower lip. There was a low rumble in his throat as he spoke his next words, almost as if the dragon inked on his skin was bleeding into his voice as he declared, “This is between us. What we feel for one another—no one else matters. No one else gets a say in this. Only you,” his head bent, and his lips traced over mine, “and me.”

“And what if it doesn’t work out?” I said, unable to catch my breath.

He drew back. “Who says it won’t?”

My gaze searched his, suddenly very aware that someone could come in here any second and find us like this. Unbidden, my eyes darted to the doors and then whipped back to Rake’s face when he chuckled.

“No one will disturb us,” he assured me. “Skye and Naasir will keep them out.” Sure enough, as I searched our link, I could see that Skye and Naasir were indeed lounging just outside the entrance. Skye was currently cleaning her claws and ignoring the fact that Naasir was watching her closely.

My gaze came back into focus on Rake’s face, and he was wearing that all too familiar half-smirk. “See?”

I rolled my eyes. “That still doesn’t mean I—”

My words were cut off when I suddenly found myself pressed up against a hard chest, my naked body lining up perfectly with his. My eyes widened at the feel of the thick hardness of him pressing against the heat of my lower belly under the water.

“Oh!” I gasped.

“I missed you, little thief,” he said, pulling back slightly and letting his large hand slip down between us. His fingers started a steady glide up and down my belly, travelling lower with each stroke. Pleasure rippled along my skin and up my spine, warming me. “Let me show you how good it can be . . . why none of the rest of it matters.”

“Rake,” I moaned.

He swallowed the sound with his mouth. Desire awakened with a hot pulse as he kissed me so forcefully, I felt like I was drowning in him.

His other hand came up to palm my breast. “These,” he murmured, his thumb lightly grazing over the nipple in slow delicious circles until it puckered tightly, “have been driving me mad during this entire conversation.”

He began kissing along my throat and down to my collarbone before his mouth found the neglected nipple of my other breast. The wet heat of his mouth felt incredible, and I whimpered at the feeling as he sucked and nipped. Need rose in me like a scorching flame, and my hands found their way into his hair, holding him to me.

I had never felt anything quite like this.

I had been with a man before, but only once, and it had hurt and hadn’t lasted very long. It was just before I was imprisoned. One night I had overheard some of Madame Rosalina’s girls at the brothel discussing clients of theirs. I had been curious and lonely and decided I wanted to know what sex was like. The man—or boy really—had been another street kid like me, but I hadn’t felt with him a tenth of what Rake had already made me feel tonight with little more than a kiss.

Rake’s hand that had been stroking along my lower belly dipped below the water and cupped between my legs, bringing me back to the present.

My breath stalled in my chest as he pulled away to stare down at me. Our eyes met, held, and I knew he was asking for permission as a single finger teased my opening.

I nodded jerkily, though the way my hips involuntarily pressed into his hand was probably permission enough.

He kissed me again as the heel of his hand pushed down on a particularly sensitive spot, and I jolted at the pleasure of it. Then that one hard, thick finger sank inside me, and I was lost to sensation.

I writhed as his hand flexed and rubbed until I was panting against his mouth, and my body arched upward. He eventually added a second finger to the first, and the stretch of his invasion felt incredible. I whimpered as our panting breaths mingled. All I was aware of was where he touched me, and the frenzied claws of desire wracking through me as every muscle in my body tightened and spasmed. I cried out into his mouth. He continued to press into me with his fingers, letting me experience every wave of pleasure and earth-shattering jolt.

Eventually everything released, and my body relaxed in a heady, exhausting rush. He let his fingers slow and then still all together as he gentled me with light kisses.

He pulled free of my body, and I opened my eyes—not realizing I had closed them—in time to see him press those fingers into his mouth, tasting me on his skin. He never took his eyes from mine as he did, and an immediate blush colored my cheeks. Completely scandalized and yet hot and achy at the brazen action.

That sensual mouth quirked in a sly grin. “I love it when I make you blush,” he murmured. His voice dark and hypnotic in the quiet of our surroundings. He kissed me again, and I could taste the smile on his lips before he pulled away.

My fingers came up to trace over the markings on his shoulder and pec. “What about you?” I asked, refusing to acknowledge the blush deepening on my cheeks at daring the question. My eyes dropped to what I could just make out below the water. His stomach muscles clenched and his eyes heated, but he shook his head.

“Later,” he promised. “Tonight, I just wanted to watch you.” One of those muscular arms extended to me, and his hand once more traced down my cheek. “I want to savor this—you. We have time. I’m in no rush.”

Something inside me simultaneously melted and tightened. A jolt of renewed desire coursed through me at his words and the look in his eyes. “Well, I am,” I complained, letting out a disgruntled huff.

He chuckled, and it was a dark, sinful sound. “Believe it or not, my intent in coming here tonight was not to seduce you.”

I couldn’t help teasing him. “Oh, really? So, you came to the bathhouse, where you knew I’d be naked and then stripped naked yourself to . . . what? Just . . . talk?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps my intentions were not entirely pure,” he conceded, obviously not sorry in the least as his eyes trailed down my body. “Though I can’t say I regret the results.”