Page 38 of Fool's Bargain

I reached out and traced one upraised mark with a hesitant fingertip, pulling back when Theo flinched. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he said and sighed. “But the memories of the pain have barely faded, though it happened near the beginning of my captivity. More than twenty centuries ago. The time in between was only a long expanse of darkness, which is some small blessing.”

“What is it?” I asked. “It almost looks like words, but not in a language I know.” Though some part of my brain insisted it was familiar.

He snorted. “She wished to own me, our enemy, but when I refused to submit to her, she had her guards hold me down and carved her name into my back over and over. She repeated the process every day for a year until I gave in, but the ensuing torture wasn’t much better.”

“I didn’t see scars like this on the others,” I said, glancing over at the trio who were watching us in silence now.

Theo turned back to face me, shaking his head. “They watched me endure these wounds, felt them through our bonds, so they gave in before she had a chance to do the same to them. We were her revenge against our commander rejecting her and mating a Dionarch. Nereus was protected by his blood link to Nyx, so Meri took out her rage on the rest of us instead. Kyril and Dorian may not have visible marks, but their pain cuts just as deep as mine.”

“That’s awful. So a blood link would have protected you from her?”

“Perhaps. Nyx is powerful. If there’s no love involved, a link with a more powerful nymphaea can counteract an unwanted blood meld. I imagine you could have challenged her, had you been there.” He smiled.

I was silent for a second, debating the idea of even mentioning my own sad scars, which surely marked me as being weak.

Theo emitted a disgruntled sound and touched my chin. “Zarya, we are melded. That means our minds are linked. I can’t hear your thoughts yet without you deliberately sharing them, but I can feel what you feel. Tell me what you’re holding back. Whatever it is, I’m sure it won’t alter my opinion of you.”

I lifted my arms out of the water and held my forearms up in front of him. Nausea churned in my stomach. I hoped he’d see and simply know, because I didn’t want to have to point out the scars, much less explain why they were there. They were concealed by ink, but not even a tattoo could hide the damaged flesh completely.

“Please see,”I mentally begged.

His blond brows tilted inward and he wrapped both big hands around my forearms, studying my wrists and the matching octopus tentacle tattoos that covered them. Then understanding dawned and he traced both thumbs down the upraised lines that ran along the inside from my wrists halfway to each elbow.

“You tried to leave this world behind.” He looked into my eyes then and I heard his question clear in my mind.“Will you show me? And will you let the others see?”

With a shaky breath I closed my eyes, barely holding back the tears and feeling like an idiot for letting my meager problems resurface after the story he’d just shared. But he made it easy and for that I was infinitely grateful. All I had to do was open my mind, which was not an easy feat considering I had buried the memories so deep for survival.

But for them, I would open myself up again, and with a deep breath I let out all the old pain and sadness.

I showed them the memories of my life on the streets of Chicago, and of running from the people and the place I’d never really felt I belonged to. Of the cold and the hunger, the struggle to claim some part of the world for myself, yet losing it every time I got too comfortable. I tried to invest in a tattoo shop only to have the lover and business partner I trusted betray me and ruin my reputation. I lost friends, lost my home. Lost my self-respect. I thought I’d risen above the darkness of my childhood, yet every time I found a measure of success, I lost it as soon as I let down my guard. Eventually I even lost the will to live. Yet somehow I’d survived and, upon waking up, known I couldn’t stay where I was a second longer or I would succeed the next time I tried to kill myself.

I’d made it out of that city, only to find myself in another that might have been in a warmer climate but was no less cold to a stranger. It could have been worse. I was hungry and alone, but at least I was warm and the sun shone bright above me most days. It wasn’t until I made it to the ocean and a close-knit community of surfers in Venice Beach about six years ago that I’d felt like I’d come home. When I started channeling my artistic skills into tattoos, I’d finally found my calling.

Theo kept hold of my wrists the entire time the deluge of memories flowed forth. He caressed my scars until I opened my eyes, my tears clearing when he bent down to kiss each cheek, as if his very touch could ease my grief. The others didn’t say a word but gave me gentle smiles when I hazarded a glance their way.

“It isn’t nothing to share this with us,” Theo said. “You haven’t shared the pain with many others, have you?”

“Only one person, but he...” I trailed off, not sure how to characterize what Bodhi had been to me. I finally settled on what was in my heart: “He wasn’t the four of you.”

Theo smiled. “I can’t promise we’ll be able to rid you of the hurt, but we intend to try.”

“Would a blood meld ease the burden?” I asked, the heavy pulse in my throat making me breathless and a little light-headed with the anticipation of what I intended. I eased closer until Theo released my wrists. When I was a close enough for my breasts to brush his chest beneath the water, I curled my fingers into the damp hair at his nape. He shuddered in apparent pleasure, and his nipples, still exposed to the air above the water’s surface, hardened from my touch.

“You don’t need to do this for me, Zarya,” he said, his gaze wary but hopeful.

“I want to understand it. I’ve never been the kind of woman to leave a thing half done. If I hate it, I’ll survive. I’ve survived worse, after all. But at least I’ll know. The others aren’t going to reject us if we follow through, are they?”

“They will never reject you. They’re in love with you. As am I.”

I swallowed down the hard lump that formed in my throat and blinked back tears of joy. I slid the tip of my tongue between my front teeth and bit down hard. Pain shot through my mouth and my eyes watered, but I applied pressure until I tasted copper. Then before I could chicken out, I stretched up on my toes and planted my mouth against his.

Theo’s hands squeezed my hips, pulling me tight against his fresh arousal, then he parted his lips and let me in. His tongue sought out the tip of mine, touching and probing until I felt a spark of pain meant he’d found the tender split in my flesh. He groaned when my blood touched his tongue and pulled me tighter. I curled both arms around his neck and hoisted myself up his big frame, wrapping my legs around his waist. His hands slid down to cup my ass, holding me tight while we kissed.

After only a moment, I felt the shift like a dam giving way to a flood as my consciousness flowed into his. He absorbed every last drop of my very being, while his flowed into me, two vessels merging into one until we couldn’t differentiate between each other.

When his cock slipped inside me, it felt less like an invasion and more like coming home. He belonged inside me. I belonged here wrapped around him. As he fucked me, I released my hold on him and arched back. He supported my torso until I was horizontal on the water’s surface. Somehow we’d risen, or the water level had dropped, though I wasn’t sure which. Either way, it lapped around us where we were joined, cooling the heat our friction produced, tempering the passion to a low burn so we could draw it out. The pool felt less like liquid than a comfortable cushion beneath my back, but I could still drift my arms through it, letting it cascade across my skin in pleasant sheets that set my nerve endings alight almost as much as the feel of Theo’s cock inside me.

---