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Eternal Refuge Page 3


  Lily was the first to draw back. Her shoulders were tense and her joints popped as she moved out from under his attention. A tiny mouse in truth, who permanently attempted to hide in her hole.

  Knight spoke no words as she fled. His focus always on her. He licked his lips as if in memory of a last kiss. His dark eyes were morose; a broken heart pumped silently behind them.

  Euan swallowed, placed the fork back on his plate, his food lay uneaten, and waited.

  Knight didn’t make him wait long. ‘Kira said that Nick …?’

  The question died on his lips as he stared down the hallway that Lily had vanished into. A waif of a woman and clothing. A ghost, a skeleton. Lost to torture and suffering.

  Euan’s focus was also on that hallway. He remembered Nick’s bloody and broken body hogtied on that rotten floor. He remembered the blood, the mud, the tears. There was a burn in his chest at the thought of Nick’s torture.

  He remembered the weeks of watching Nick waste away before his eyes. The hollowed cheeks and the vacant expression. He remembered that he had risked Nirvana to see them escape what was left of humanity in the hope that it would heal Nicky’s soul, and stitch the rift between them back together.

  If they could come back from that, they could come back from anything.

  And maybe with the same dedication, so could Lily and Knight.

  ‘Yes,’ Euan replied, clearing his throat. ‘They had him for two days. Patience won out. And Kira. But it was time, and me getting my head out of my ass that brought him back. Don’t push it. She’ll return. Just love her until then.’

  Knight’s attention remained on the dark portal. ‘She won’t let me love her.’

  Euan picked up a roasted zucchini with his fingers, carefully brought it to his lips, almost cried out with elation when it went straight into his mouth. ‘Have you told her? That you still love her?’

  ‘Every day.’

  Euan ate and chewed another vegetable before he stood, grimacing at the pain in his feet. ‘Then you’re doing a better job than I did.’ He clapped Knight on the shoulder, squeezed the hard muscle underneath. The man was large enough that it didn’t shudder through his whole body. ‘Time is what she needs. It will be worth it. But for you, it will be the hardest and longest of your life.’

  ***

  Euan was surrounded by the smell of lavender once again. The sheets had been washed. The room was no longer engulfed with the stench of disinfectant and male sweat. Instead, he was engulfed by everything that was Kira, that made this bunker home, sweetness and perfection in this world.

  But there was one glaring omission. ‘Where’s Nick?’ he asked.

  Kira halted in her movements. Her shirt halfway over her head. Her fatigues were clinched tight around her waist with a belt that had been altered to allow for more holes. Her elbows and hair peeked over the hem of her top.

  Euan stood from where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed and loomed over her. One quick jerk and the shirt was gone. Hair wild, eyes bright, her cheek indented where she bit the inside. His eyes narrowed. ‘I thought we were ready to sleep together again?’

  ‘We are! He, um …’ she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She reached out to take her shirt back from him.

  He didn’t fight her. His jaw cocked, and his attention turned to the open doorway. ‘He’s not coming,’ he guessed.

  Kira twisted the garment in her hands. ‘He said that—’

  ‘I can imagine what he said,’ Euan interrupted. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘I don’t think—’ she started.

  ‘Kira.’

  At his stern tone, she flinched. The apology was on Euan’s lips until a surprising smile stretched across her face. He blinked as she reached out and took his hand. She spread his fingers and held it over her heart. The beat was strong under his fingertips, the skin hot.

  His focus centred. His gaze snagged on her smile. Bright, sunshine personified. ‘What?’

  ‘That tone,’ she whispered. ‘I missed it.’

  ‘Tone?’ he asked like an idiot.

  Her smile grew. Euan smelt the lavender, the washing powder and his fingertips tingled.

  ‘You used to use it on me all the time, especially in the beginning. Do you remember?’

  Humour tickled under his ribs. ‘I remember you never doing as you were told.’

  She ignored his quip. ‘And you always said, “Kira” in that voice, and my heart would trip, just a little.’

  A smile did form then, a tiny stretch of his scarred lips. Hers grew with its presence. ‘Just a little?’ he asked.

  When she nodded impishly, he pulled his hand from under hers and brought the other towards her until he could hold her face in his palms. Guileless, yet determined. Naïve, yet principled. Kira had always been a dichotomy, the perfect contrast between warrior and submissive. She was the epitome of what this new world needed. An honourable guardian that worked with her strengths, but also understood her limitations. She was never afraid to seek assistance, and she was never scared to call him on his shit. He suspected that if Nick was not in this room, it was because Kira saw his anger justified.

  Euan reluctantly agreed it probably was.

  He tilted her head, bent. His descent was slow, and he savoured the anticipation. When he finally pressed his lips to hers, it was with such acute gentleness that he wondered if she felt the pressure at all.

  He did. He sensed it all. The softness, the flawlessness, the splendour.

  She arched into him, a moan in her throat that he took down into his. Her hands were at his clothes, pulling, tugging. He deepened their kiss and when their tongues touched, their unified groans could awaken the gods.

  Two steps, and the backs of her knees were to the bed. One more push and she buckled, her body fell with his guidance into the mattress. He was upon her and Christ, it felt so good. The glory of heaven was right here. Her tiny body squirmed against him, skin rasped over cloth, and it was too much between them. Euan’s shirt was gone, so was Kira’s bra. Suddenly he had nipples that pushed against his chest, and he growled because he couldn’t not.

  She tasted like ambrosia. Her mouth as soft and as sweet as he remembered. Her tongue played with his, dipped and coaxed, and Euan found himself following her lead. Her fingernails were embedded in his shoulders, the nerves enjoyed the bite of pain.

  His hands rasped as they explored. Skin so warm, so supple, like velvet under the sandpaper of his own. He was lost to her, lost to her taste, her smell, her utter and profound magnificence.

  He could have lost her; he could have lost this. He had been a knifepoint away from oblivion. If it hadn’t been for that secret hatch, both her and Nick would have died down here. Starvation and resentment their demise.

  How could he have done that?

  ‘Hey.’ Her voice was in his ear and her fingertips were on his face. When had he closed his eyes so tightly? When had the grimace appeared?

  ‘Come back to me.’

  The apology that sat on his tongue was thick and bulbous. It hindered his ability to speak, utter the words he needed to say, the words necessary to begin to heal the rift between them. But he couldn’t speak, so he just held her. Just held the perfection in his arms that he didn’t deserve.

  She said, ‘Roll over.’

  He found the courage then to open his eyes. Below him, she squirmed with intent, and the spell that had held Euan speechless was broken. Her pupils were blown and a smile so radiant upon her lips it burned another brand on his thundering heart.

  ‘Roll over,’ she repeated.

  A frown of confusion was her answer.

  She pushed at his shoulders with those calloused palms. ‘Roll over!’

  He did as he was told with confused reluctance. It took effort, more effort than it used to take, until the mattress was at his back, and her crystal blue eyes were all he saw.

  She leaned down. Touched her lips to his. Delicate, featherlike, a whisper of sensation. Euan attempted to meet
the temptation, only for her to force him back down with a hand at his throat. ‘Kira?’ he choked.

  Her eyes were cobalt fire, flame and sparks. ‘I want you to listen to me.’

  His shock kept him silent. When her grip tightened, he nodded.

  ‘You’re mine, understand? I want you back. I’m in this bed because I missed you. I love you, will always love you. I need you to love yourself too, and come back to me.’

  He heard her words, he did. But all he could see, all he could think was how beautiful she was. Not just in feature, but her soul. In her ire, making demands of him, demands that, in that moment, he would move the magnetic field of the earth to bring to fruition.

  ‘Promise me,’ she demanded, squeezing.

  The smile that split his lips had everything to do with her and nothing to do with his raging hard-on. Her dominance over him, her anger and demands gave him a power below the belt that rivalled the strength of an oak. ‘Okay,’ he croaked.

  The muscles around her eyes softened, the tightness of her lips eased. ‘Okay,’ she whispered.

  He pushed against her hand. ‘Kiss me.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you getting off on this?’ Her tiny fingers flexed.

  His erection surged. His grin grew. ‘Kiss me, before I kiss you.’

  She was slow to move, hyper-aware of his strength, his ability to overpower her. But he held still, waited for her lips to meet his.

  Then his hands were in her hair, and a feminine moan was engulfed with a masculine one and a tiny little waist was moving against the hard planes of a hair-dusted stomach. A nipple was pinched, a gasp, a whisper. Those gyrations increased.

  ‘See that you don’t need me here, then.’

  They broke apart like opposing neutrons. But Euan was not going to be shamed, even if Kira’s cheeks were pink and she moved her hands from his body to cover her nakedness.

  Euan narrowed his eyes at the anger that swirled in the depths of Nick’s. His displeasure strengthened at the thought that Kira felt the need to hide herself in their combined presence. His voice was impassive when he spoke. ‘Glad you could join us.’

  ‘I was just going to see if Kira—’ Nick stopped himself, turned to leave, started again. ‘I’ll just be—’

  ‘Stop.’

  Euan’s wrapped his arms around Kira and sat up. Ribs creaked and his stomach muscles trembled with the effort, but he was internally glad when he was upright with their sun-sprite in his lap. Nick kept his back to them, but he did as he was told.

  Euan lowered his voice. ‘You’re not going anywhere. Get in here and close the door.’

  In his arms, Kira held her breath in anticipation to see if Nick would acquiescent. Euan was not above the moment not to do the same. The seconds stretched, warped, lengthened. Nick reached up, grabbed the door jam, hung his head.

  Then left the room.

  ‘Fuck,’ Euan whispered.

  Kira shifted and grabbed both his biceps. She traced the tattoos there. Patterns created in ink from a life long lost. Her silence was prolonged, but Euan gave her the time she needed.

  ‘We waited for you,’ she said finally. ‘We can wait a little longer. He needs time.’

  ‘He needs his ass kicked,’ Euan grumbled, knowing it was more likely his ass that needed the kicking.

  Kira smiled as though she could read his thoughts. She reached over and touched the bandage that still wrapped his eye. ‘He loves you so much, it’s why he’s hurting so badly.’

  The breath that Euan drew in was long, deep. He carefully put his thumbs to her cheeks, ran the pads over the soft skin there. ‘I know it, sweetheart. I’ll give him whatever he needs. Always have, always will.’

  Her smile was brittle, but it was there. ‘I know.’

  Chapter 4

  Nick

  It was with a sense of dread that Nick woke. His muscles protested every movement, and he stretched to alleviate an angry spine. There was nothing he could do about the gaping hole in his heart. He was cold, uncomfortable, grumpy and stiff. He groaned as he pulled himself upright from the back seat of one of the trucks. The meagre blanket he’d pilfered from one of the few remaining open boxes was insufficient in keeping the waning winter chill at bay. His nose dripped, and his fingers creaked when he rubbed them together. He did not think of Kira and Euan sharing their bed, the warmth that their bodies would provide, the comfort of that fucking king-sized mattress. Nope, he didn’t think of that or them at all.

  He scrubbed his face with his hands and his stubble rasped against his palm. His tongue slid against furry teeth. His mouth tasted like ass, and not in the good way.

  His eyes slid towards the windscreen where the woodland stretched out before him. He frowned, his lips tightened, he fingered his hair out of his eyes. The light was orange …

  Dawn had broken, the morning sun ate away at the grey-tinged sky, it blossomed into vibrant shades. But the colours were wrong.

  The truck’s door squealed as he opened it and the scent of smoke immediately assaulted his nose. His frown deepened. It wasn’t completely unusual or out of the ordinary. Mickey-O’s men that had been assigned to transport them and their supplies to the eco-hotel slept in tents and used fires to cook their meals of portioned rations and nearby game … but the scent was different, stronger, keener.

  Thicker.

  He emerged from the cab and pushed his feet directly into his boots. Laces were tied with haste and then he ran backwards along the grass, his eyes to the sky.

  A livid red glow had formed above the treetops. It wasn’t from the new dawn.

  His feet took him to the porch. The men had begun to exit their tents. Green, grey, blue and yellow, the waterproof fabric whistled as zippers were unfastened and faces appeared through vacant holes. Noses were in the air. Eyes cleared of sleep. Activity and movement quickly overtook the silence.

  Nick’s hand was on the door handle when he spied Knight marching towards him across the grass he’d just cleared.

  He paused. Gazes locked, held. Knight nodded as he broke the connection to glance towards the sky, the men, then finally the forest. ‘We’re trapped here. If they’ve lit the fire close enough, we’ll be surrounded by flame within the hour.’

  Nick’s response was immediate. ‘So, what, we’re fucked?’

  A grin split scarred lips. ‘You wake Mickey-O, get Kira and McKay. I’ll finalise the preparations and get the men ready. I can have us out in fifteen.’

  Nick glanced back towards the lawn. Tents were being disassembled with almost inhuman speed. Engines were already beginning to rumble in the crisp morning air, exhaust fumes mixed with the smoke. The last of the crates of supplies were packed into pick-ups.

  Nick raised his brows in silent affirmation and held out his hand. ‘My gut tells me that we have a road to follow before this is over, so I just want to say thanks, good luck, and look after Lily. That woman is something special.’

  The grin left Knight’s face at the mention of Lily. ‘I failed her once. I’ll die before I do again.’

  Their handshake was firm, brief. Knight’s grip was warm. Nick’s was sweaty.

  The door swung inwards silently, the trip wire long gone. His boots were loud on the timber floor as he sped to where he needed to go. Three bangs on Kira’s brother’s old bedroom door had Mickey-O opening the portal with a snap.

  ‘Fire,’ Nick said. ‘On the horizon. Knight’s packing up the others. It’s time to go.’

  Mickey-O slapped him on the shoulder, turned and began to gather his possessions. Nick didn’t hesitate at his door, he left the man to his work and ran for the hatch.

  The ladder, the living room, the hall. The bedroom door.

  For a brief moment he paused, his hand hovered over the brass handle. What if he opened it up and they were in the middle of fucking? What if he discovered they no longer needed him, that his anger had pushed them into each other’s arms, but without him in the middle?

  He hesitated, held on the pr
ecipice until he realised it didn’t matter. Their safety was paramount, whatever turmoil he held in his chest.

  The door swung open on smooth hinges.

  There they were, wrapped in each other. Blankets twisted about naked bodies. Kira’s bronze skin and Euan’s pale muscles. A white shoulder, a tanned forearm. One toned female leg was exposed to the air and wrapped around a rounded male hip. Euan’s back was to the door, but his upper torso had already turned before Nick’s eyes had fully adjusted to the limited lighting. Brown eyes were upon him. Their gazes snagged. Nick was held immobile, no words formed, no gestures were made. But Euan read him as though his features spelled words on a page.

  If his reaction was anything to go by, Euan read flashing warnings all over his face.

  Euan moved before Nick had the chance to blink. He tugged on his boots while Nick found his clothes on the floor and handed them over. Their fingers brushed. Nick jerked when the zap of electricity shot through him. Their connection had always been like that, visceral, real, consuming. He’d ignored it for the sake of his hurt. But now there was no opportunity to doubt their relationship. There was no opportunity for anything except to get the fuck out.

  As Euan pulled on his shirt, Kira sat upright and swiped her hair out of her face. ‘What’s going on?’

  Big hands were on Nick’s shoulders. Brown eyes that were full of questions were above him. Nick found his voice and said, ‘Fire, on the horizon.’

  Euan nodded, turned. ‘Kira, sweetheart, time to go. Pack your shit.’

  Simple words. Crude, direct, authoritative. They were the directive they craved, that they missed. Euan took the lead, Nick and Kira followed. They snapped into comfortable responsibilities. The simmering tension between them evaporated. The questions, the anger, the betrayal all dissipated for the sake of their safety and their lives. Euan was once again in charge, and despite the oncoming danger, all was right with the world.

  The sky was gold when they emerged from the house. Clouds of amber, orange and red marred the grey. The rising sun was a ball of enraged crimson fire. It bled red light onto the land, tainted the dormant oak and pine that surrounded their home and painted the sky with fingers coated in blood. Smoke billowed over the trees in a growing mass of ghostly air. Plumes of dust, ash and the remnants of life. The air was polluted with the smell of embers and fire. Of decay and loss. Of death.