Skye's Sanctuary (The Sanctuary Series Book 5) Page 4

  Silas was the third Warlord to take the Palace. For a brief time, I was the fourth. Now, Skye will become the fifth Warlord. It is my intention that our children and grandchildren extend our rule of the palace and city for many years into the future.

  Skye doesn’t wake as I climb out of the vehicle and stride around to her side. She blinks up at me as I lift her from her seat, hefting her into my arms, then she closes her eyes. She curls against me, lets out a soft snore, and falls back asleep.

  She is a tough woman, but the days’ events have exhausted her. I am pleased that she trusts me enough to protect her while she’s vulnerable. If she would agree, I would hold her like this every time she sleeps.

  Kingston walks ahead of me, clearing our path to the lift, where we’re carried up to the Warlord’s suite. He stops at the doors, bowing his head as we pass. I stride through our suite of rooms, which are lit by candles. Twilight passed while we were on the road and it’s now fully dark. It feels strange that only one day has passed since Skye was taken.

  I continue through to the bedroom and place her on the bed. She curls onto her side, tucking a hand under her face, her rich brown hair tangled around her head.

  I sit on the bed and rest my hand on her legs, feeling her warmth.

  In the first moments after I was informed that she was taken, I was engulfed in rage. I am ashamed to admit that I didn’t act with any particular logic. I snapped up my weapons and raced through the palace, down into the bowels of the building, launching myself at my car.

  Kingston stopped me, taking his life into his hands as he suggested he drive. I hadn’t wanted to let him, hating the thought that another person had control of how fast we tracked my woman, but his logic was sound. I would not have been able to help her if I killed myself. He also suggested I could come up with a rescue plan.

  Without a word, I’d climbed into the passenger side of the car. I didn’t need to come up with a plan though. I trusted that Skye would have a plan. I needed to get to her so I could be the sword at her back. Had she still been with her kidnappers when I arrived, I would have taken out the leader, secured the camp and allowed her to decide the fate of the others.

  My woman rescued herself though, as I knew she would. She is too smart, driven, and brave to allow herself to remain in custody for long. Only death will stop my Warlord. And if death comes to claim her, I will be one step behind. I refuse to live in this hellish world without her.

  I unlace each of her boots, pulling them one at a time from her feet while she sleeps. Her foot curls as the cold air rushes over it and I take it into my hand, warming it with my palm.

  After a few minutes, I stand, removing my clothes, and climbing onto the bed with her. Dragging the blanket over top, I hold her close, allowing sleep to claim me as well.

  I don’t know how long I sleep for, but at least a few hours, when I’m wakened by Skye leaving the bed. I tense, fighting the urge to reach for my weapon. I slit my eyes and watch her as she leaves the room. I’m tempted to follow, but I suspect she’s using the washroom. Though I would prefer not to allow her any privacy, I know she will disagree if I go barging in.

  She returns a few minutes later and stands in the middle of the room. She seems uncertain and again I nearly get up to see if she needs anything. Finally, she seems to come to a decision.

  She removes her clothes, letting them drop to the floor at her feet. She’s not a tidy person, but I find her habit of leaving her things where they fall pleasing. Everything about her intrigues me, even her bad habits.

  I think she will climb back into the bed, but she saunters to the window instead, which is open, allowing for a slight breeze to raise goosebumps across her bare skin. Naked, she gazes out at the dark city, then she lifts the cloth sitting in a bowl of fresh water and begins wiping herself down.

  She’s so caught up in her washing and the view of the city that she doesn’t notice me roll over to see her more clearly.

  Skye has never been shy about her body. She’s practical. To her, it’s a tool she learned to use to her advantage, first in the harem, then as a warrior. To me, her body is a work of art. She has mouth-watering curves that should have been erased by years of hardship but are still lush and bountiful.

  Moonlight falls across her flawless skin as she bends to wipe each leg, lifting her feet to wash the soles, while leaning against the washing table. She has no idea what a feast for the senses she is, but I’m about to show her.

  I sit up and throw off the blankets.

  She turns to me, her eyes wide and luminous. Then she smiles.

  “I knew you were awake.”

  Of course she did. And if she didn’t, she’s not about to admit her lack of attention to a predator like me.

  I reach for her, grabbing for the cloth to toss it aside.

  She holds it away from me.

  She wants to play.

  I grip her harder, my fingers biting into her waist as I reach for the cloth again. My reach is longer than hers, my strength far superior. She has no choice but to give up the cloth.

  I toss it into the bowl and turn back to take her lips.

  She turns her head, a mischievous smile flirting about her lips. “What if I say no, I’m too tired tonight?”

  Her siren’s teasing is playing havoc with my body, sending the blood rushing to my cock.

  “You assume I want anything from you.”

  She laughs. “We’re both naked and you’re holding me pretty tight for a man who just wants a goodnight kiss.”

  I grunt. I love it when she plays games, but I’m not clever with words like she is.

  “You’re right. I want more than a kiss.” I show her what I want by taking a fistful of her hair and forcing her head to mine, thrusting my tongue between her lips.

  I’m confident she won’t bite me, but I try to stay guarded.

  She doesn’t. Instead, she brings her sharp knee up into my waist. Though she is strong enough to make the hit count, it’s worth the momentary flash of pain to have her open her pussy to me.

  I immediately cup her, sliding my fingers through her folds.

  She lets out a strangled scream and arches backwards, flailing her arms.

  I haul her back up, but she twists, knocking the water bowl off the table. It splashes us as it falls, hitting the floor and shattering into tiny shards.

  “Look what you did,” she says with a laugh, then wraps an arm around my neck and drags my head down for a kiss.

  With one touch, I’m lost.

  Drinking this woman is the closest to drunk I will ever allow myself. She is fire, pain, and pleasure all at once. She’s the only thing on the planet that can make me lose my head. She’s dangerous to me and she knows it.

  She digs her fingers in my hair, clinging so tightly it hurts. She slashes her mouth over mine and our tongues battle. The drive to dominate her kicks in and, turning on the spot without taking a step over the pottery shards, I drop her onto the mattress, coming down on top of her, pinning her as I savage her.

  I grip her neck, shoving her head back and sinking my teeth into her lush breast.

  She lets out a scream that turns my cock to stone.

  I continue to hold her neck as I move down her body, licking and biting. I want her wearing my marks for the Warlord ceremony. She may be covered in leather, but I will know what lays beneath her clothes. She will feel me as she accepts the responsibility of Sanctuary and I will guard her back while she does it.

  “Wolfe!” she shouts, as I reach her delicious pussy.

  I pin her to the bed as I lick and eat her through orgasm after orgasm until she begs me to stop. But I don’t stop. I won’t ever stop. I am the storm that hovers over and around her. I will always be with her, driving her wild while protecting her.

  She twists until she can sink her sharp nails into my scalp and use my hair to drag my head up. She moves fast, flipping herself on top of my back and using her weight to hold me down.

  Of course, she
couldn’t do that if I didn’t want her too, but the feel of her slippery cunt against my back where her legs are straddling my ass gives me the patience to see where’s she’s going next.

  She wraps an arm around my neck and drags my head up, sinking her sharp teeth into my ear, breathing against me. I forget everything as pleasure slams through me. My balls tighten unbearably and I shake as I ruthlessly hold myself back from flipping her over and fucking her.

  “You want me, soldier?” she breathes into my ear.

  I growl in return. I can feel the curve of her lips as she smiles against the side of my face.

  “Then come and get me.”

  She leaps up so fast I barely have enough time to twist around and grab her. I’m sure she intends to run from the room, but I don’t give her the chance. I grip her ankle and drag her as she’s in mid-flight. She comes crashing down onto the bed, too close to the edge. I worry she’ll hit the cement floor so I roll with her, taking the brunt of her weight. Then I roll again until she’s on the bottom.

  “You dare to run from me?”

  Her teeth flash white in the shadows as she gives me a cheeky grin. “I dare what I want.”

  “So do I.”

  I pull her legs wide until she gasps and grips my shoulders. I slam into her, grateful for her slippery wetness as I sink to the hilt. Fuck, heaven can’t feel half this good.

  She lifts her hips to meet mine, and we begin our dance.

  She curves her ankles over my calves, gripping me like a vine as she wraps her arms around my back and rakes me with her nails. She loves marking me as much as I do her.

  I slam into her so hard the bed rocks and creaks. I don’t care. I hope we break it. Show the world that our love is barbaric and real. We are fucking in the time of the apocalypse and it’s as wild as the outside world. We are not civilized. This is our place.

  I hammer into her while she meets me thrust for thrust until she’s ready to reach for her orgasm. She throws her head back, arching her neck, and stops lifting herself to meet my cock. Now it’s on me to carry her the rest of the way.

  I bite her skin where her shoulder meets her neck, sucking hard enough to make it hurt as I slam into her again and again until she’s there. She lets out an ear-piercing battle cry.

  I follow her over the edge, giving her my seed and sending a prayer to the gods that my sperm finds its way home, planting our child within her.

  Together we collapse to the bed, sweaty and out of breath. I turn my head so I can watch her beauty in the glowing aftermath of incredible sex. She is so much more than I could have hoped for.

  Still breathless, she stares back at me. “Do you think we’ll ever have sex without battling it out?”

  I take her question seriously. “No.”

  We will never lose the wild chemistry that burns like fire in the air around us.

  “Good.” She sighs with satisfaction before closing her eyes and immediately falling asleep, trusting that I will once again protect her.

  Seven

  Skye

  “You couldn’t find me anything a little less… bloody?” I ask, looking down at the dried blood spattered across my armour. “This is supposed to be an important ceremony, right? Should I really be wearing my old, dented armour?”

  Hannah is kneeling at my feet, working the laces up my leather calf boots.

  “Wolfe told me you were to wear your armour for the ceremony.”

  “I’m Warlord now, you should listen to me.”

  Hannah gazes up at me, raising a sceptical eyebrow, looking somehow regal despite her position. Her pointed look has the desired effect. I flush as I’m reminded of who took care of me, taught me the ways of the harem and my new Sanctuary when I first arrived.

  “Sorry,” I mumble. Then, unable to help myself, burst out with, “But there have to be some perks to being the Warlord. Like new gold-plated armour.”

  “Gold is too soft for battle.”

  I turn at the sound of Wolfe’s voice.

  “But this is a ceremony.” I lift my arms and turn on the spot. “My armour is old, dirty and bloody. It’s not fit for the citizens of this Sanctuary to see.”

  Wolfe approaches me slowly, taking in my metal-plated leather outfit. It’s meant to withstand a horde attack, which it has successfully done many times over the past few years.

  Wolfe hooks his fingers into the leather vest and drags me up onto my toes. “This armour brought you safely back to me. You will wear it when you take your place and show the people of this Sanctuary who you are.”

  “And who am I?” I whisper.

  “You are more than gold-plated armour.” His dark eye pierces me as he speaks. “You are more than a figurehead. You are their leader and you will lead them into a world of hope.”

  I stare at him in surprise. “That was…”

  “Downright poetic,” Hannah says with a sigh, pulling me away from Wolfe so she can work on the laces at the sides of my leather tunic.

  I narrow my eyes at Wolfe. He’s wearing an outfit I haven’t seen before. His pants shine with a clean dull sheen that only brand-new leather can pull off. His shirt is white and clean, buttoned to his throat. His eye patch is made of a soft material stretched over a metal plate.

  “Why do you get new clothes?” I demand.

  “I’m not the Warlord.” If he so much as smirks, I will drag my bloody knife from its beat-up scabbard and mess up his new clothes. He looks serious as he continues, “The ceremony starts in twenty minutes in front of the old parliament pavilion. There’s a car waiting out front, ready to escort you.”

  The New Mexico State Capital building was one of the first buildings to fall during the Great Fall and has yet to be rebuilt. As far as I know, it’s still a pile of rubble.

  As he turns to leave, I call out, “Hey, where will you be?”

  He stops and turns, bowing his head slightly. “At your back, Warlord. Always at your back.”

  I have no idea how long I stare after him before Hannah breaks my reverie.

  “That man has it bad,” she says with a sigh. “If I could find a man who loved me half that much, I would be… well… happy.”

  “Silas loved you that much.” I glance down at her, where she’s tightening my laces.

  She shakes her head, the blond hair piled on top of her head wobbling. “He loved you more.”

  I pull away from her, and bend down, going to my knees in front of her. I take her hands in mine and squeeze. “Silas admired me. I was new and shiny, and I was tough when he needed tough. He always went back to you.”

  Hannah blinks away tears and uses her sleeve to wipe her eyes. “I miss him.”

  I glance over my shoulder. “Don’t tell Wolfe, but sometimes I miss Silas too.”

  Hannah nods. “He was gentle and thoughtful. He believed we could bring Sanctuary through the hard times with less war and more cooperation. I wish….”

  Hannah’s gaze meets mine and then widens as she realizes what she’s about to say.

  I sit back on my ass and lean against the bed, raising my knees and slinging my leather-clad arms over them.

  Hannah follows suit, leaning against the bed, but she sits delicately, her spine straight and her legs curled beneath her.

  “There are days when I wish the same,” I admit, then I look at her. “But he could never have been an effective Warlord in the long run. He was lucky some warrior didn’t kill and replace him. It’s a fact that we live in dangerous times. We can no longer be civilized in the face of all the threats this world holds for us.”

  “We have to be civilized or what’s the point?” Hannah asks, despair leaking into her voice. “Why are we fighting for Sanctuary if we act like beasts?”

  I shake my head. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe we can be both. Strong in the face of a threat, and kind to those we trust.”

  Hannah seems to think about it. “I suppose that’s as good as we can expect.”

  “It’ll have to be.” I push myself t
o my feet and look into the mirror Wolfe somehow found for me. Looking at the dents in my armour, the scratches, and blood on the leather, I understand Wolfe’s thinking. This armour bears the truth of my journey, of my skills, of my worthiness to be the Warlord and I will carry it as I take my place as Warlord of this Sanctuary.

  I turn to find Hannah still curled up on the floor, her eyes downcast, her face miserable.

  I crouch in front of her and touch her head. “The doctor is doing everything she can for him.”

  She shakes her head, swiping at the tears that continue to leak down her face. “He was bit by a Primitive. He is a Primitive. There’s no coming back.”

  “You don’t know that,” I argue. “I was in the Tucson Sanctuary when they brought back my sister’s friend.”

  Hannah lifts tear flooded eyes to mine. “She died.”

  Hannah’s right, Emery died, but she lived for a few months, and that was something.

  “Yes, but we learned a lot from her. We learned that it is possible to bring people back once they’ve become Primitives. We no longer have to accept the fate of our loved ones.” I fold her hand in mine. “We must have faith.”

  “I don’t know how anymore,” she whispers. “I’m so tired.”

  My heart breaks for her. Hannah has become a shell of the woman she used to be. Sometimes there are sparks of life, usually when we hang out with the other council members, the women who came to Sanctuary from New York. She’ll smile and laugh with them, but there’s always a lingering sadness.

  “It’s time to go,” I say to her. “Will you stand with me?”

  She looks up, her tears drying. “You want me there? But I’m not strong at all. Not like you.”

  I shake my head. “You’re stronger. You stood by Silas during the Primitive attacks and you remained here, in Sanctuary, when it fell. It takes enormous strength to survive against such odds.”

  I stand and hold my hand out to her. “Come with me.”

  She places her hands in mine and lets me help her to her feet. She takes my shoulders and kisses my cheek. “I will be proud to stand with you, Warlord Skye.”