Read Wild, Tethered, Bound Online
Authors: Stephanie Draven
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Horror
“Did you put me back together?” Nick asked, as if bewildered by the fact that he was whole.
“Not on purpose,” Dessa whispered, falling forward onto his chest where he cradled her. “But in joining with me…it just happened.”
“I guess three was a crowd.” That sense of humor returned now that he was one man. “You swear you didn’t tether me?”
Dessa shook her head. “I kept my part of the bargain. You’re free…”
“Do you think I kept mine?” Nick whispered.
“Yes, we made a daughter,” Dessa said softly. “I feel her inside me, like I used to feel my heart tree—like I still feel my heart tree when you’re near me.”
Nick rolled atop her then, laying her gently against the soil where the loamy scents of the world added to her contentment. But, as he stroked her hair from her face, he looked terribly sad. “You know I wouldn’t have done that…if I’d been myself. Some part of me wanted to shame you for having trapped me.”
“I’m not ashamed.”
Nick sighed. “If I’d been myself, I’d have never made that bargain with you in the first place. I wouldn’t have risked making a baby, knowing I was just going to run out on you.”
Dessa tried to keep her lower lip from quaking. What should it matter to her that he left her now? He was a mortal. She was a dryad. They came from different worlds. They’d return to different worlds. But she was worried for him. “How long can you keep running, Nick? What will they do to you—truly—if they catch you?”
“The best-case scenario? They’re so desperate for soldiers they might send me right back into the fight.”
“And the worst case?” Dessa asked.
“They’ll lock me in an insane asylum for the rest of my life.”
“And the most likely?”
“Most likely they’ll give me two years in prison, but I don’t think I could live through even a day of being locked up.”
“But you did survive a day of it,” Dessa said. “I held you against your will today and it didn’t kill you. You’re stronger than you think, but you’re not free—not when you can’t even keep yourself together.”
He knew that she could help him—she saw it in his eyes—but he was too proud to ask. “I don’t like to rely on anyone else. I don’t like to be in someone else’s power.”
“Maybe sometimes you have to give yourself up to another power before you can get control of yourself again. I think you taught me that tonight.”
“You’re really going back to Afghanistan?” he asked.
She nodded, sleepily. The ground was warm beneath them and the wind rustled the trees like a lullaby. Still, he was whispering something in her ear. “Dessa, I want you to know that I planted the seeds of your tree—the nuts—I planted them over the graves of the little girls. I don’t know if that helps anything, but…”
Dessa’s joy welled up so suddenly that tears flowed over her lashes. Could she return to Afghanistan and find little walnut trees? Could she at least dance with the spirits of her little forest girls again? As a dryad, she knew that the cycle of life was eternal. Somehow the war had made her forget it. Now this mortal, this wonderful mortal, had made her remember again and she wanted this moment to last.
So she closed her eyes.
While Dessa slept, Nick got dressed. Moonlight illuminated Dessa’s naked body, earthly in the night. He searched for her clothes—the costume she wore to pass in the mortal world—and gently covered her as best he could.
As he did so, something fell out of her skirt pocket, and he squinted until he realized it was the joker, all curled and burned at the edges.
She shouldn’t be carrying it. What happened to those little girls was his burden to bear, not hers. He hadn’t wanted any civilians to get hurt, but that’s what happened in war. He hadn’t wanted the fighting to destroy Dessa’s heart tree or burn down her forest, either, but he was a soldier. He knew it could happen. He’d tried to warn her, but he didn’t expect her to forgive him for his part in that horror.
Especially not when it had resulted in the extra humiliation of having to ask him—
beg him
—to make love to her so that she could have a child. If her heart tree hadn’t been destroyed, and he hadn’t been the one to eat those walnuts, he was pretty certain she’d have never let him touch her.
And he shouldn’t have done it; not because she wasn’t beautiful. Not because he regretted one moment of the mind-blowing experience of taking her so completely. But because she might really be having his kid…and what if she was right, and it was a little girl?
Crouching down beside Dessa, he couldn’t imagine how she could sleep so peacefully—how she could make herself so comfortable on the bare ground. Then again, she wasn’t like him. He didn’t even feel comfortable in his own skin anymore—and maybe he only had himself to blame.
Nick felt his chest constrict, remembering his little sisters and the way they had cried out for him as the crushed car sparked and teetered at the edge of the highway. He’d tried to get to them, but he’d been trapped. His legs had been pinned beneath the steering column and the seat belt at his throat. Like a chain, like a tether.
For months afterward, he’d been trapped in that hospital bed in casts, locked up, and he’d sworn to himself that he’d never let himself be trapped again. But what was this life as a chimera, but one more cage?
Dessa startled awake, squinting into the morning light. She was in a forest, but not
her
forest, and the events of the night before came flooding back.
“Nick?” she called softly. When there was no answer, she realized she was clutching something in her hand. It was a playing card—not the joker, but the queen of hearts. On it was a scrawled note.
I’m not a deserter, Dessa. I’m just bad luck for little girls.
So guilt had broken him. Maybe all soldiers felt it. But he didn’t bear all the blame for what had happened in Afghanistan, and Dessa had been wrong to let him think otherwise. She dressed hurriedly, hoping not to run into any tourists as she found her way back toward a concrete path. She worried Nick might be lost, wandering the woods, but she didn’t feel the essence of her heart tree close by. The steady rhythm was missing, leaving an emptiness in her chest.
She was too late. Nick was gone.
Dessa told herself that she should accept it. With her hand absently stroking her belly, she knew that he’d given her the one thing she most wanted. But she was filled with regret for the things she hadn’t said. If she’d tethered him, she’d be able to find him. She’d be able to pull him to her without even trying. But she’d kept her promise and let him free—now she might never see him again.
Stumbling back to the resort, Dessa didn’t even answer the manager when he asked her where she’d been and whether or not she planned to report for work. She just found her purse and keys, went to the parking lot and drove off.
She didn’t know where she was driving until she got there, but once she pulled into the parking lot of the Brisbane Airport, it seemed to make sense. She’d get a flight back to Afghanistan, or at least as close as she could get.
But after she’d purchased her ticket and made her way toward the gate, something pulled her in another direction. She turned, passed the duty-free shops and kept going. The noise of the airport was an assault on her tender dryad ears…but beneath the chatter and announcements, she thought she heard a distinct pulse, and one that she knew.
One she did know.
Nick was in line for a flight to Los Angeles. He was wearing dark shades, and his dress shirt was rumpled from the night before, but he looked still to be one man, and his shoulders were squared like he was marching into battle.
“Lieutenant,”
she whispered just behind his ear.
He spun around, his expression both startled and relieved. “You’ve gotta stop doing that, Dessa.”
Sheepishly, Dessa said, “I know, but I couldn’t let you leave thinking that what happened in Afghanistan was your fault.”
Nick seemed acutely aware of the stares of his fellow passengers and, in spite of the flight attendant’s glare, he got out of line and ushered Dessa away from the crowd. “Dessa, it
was
my fault. I might not have called in the air strike—I didn’t personally shell your forest. But there were other air strikes I did call in and other forests I probably burned. I could’ve made those little girls leave—”
“I don’t think you could have,” Dessa said, trying to still the trembling of her voice. “I bound them there, Nick. I bound them to my forest. I bound birds and bees, flowers, trees and the humans, too. So it’s my fault. They might not have struggled much against me, but I bound that family just like I bound you last night, and for the same selfish reason: I cared for them and wanted them near me.”
“There’s more than enough blame to go around…” Nick stopped, his eyes flicking up at her. “For the same reason? What did you just say?”
“I wanted to be with you,” she said. “I still do.”
She was touched when he reached out and cupped her cheek. “I think I want to be with you, too, but…”
“I won’t tether you,” Dessa promised hurriedly. “I won’t use whatever magic I have left to force you to stay. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“It’s not that.” He sighed. “I’m turning myself in. I think you’re right—this may be the only way to put myself back together again.”
Dessa wanted to argue, but couldn’t. And as Nick rolled his shoulders in anticipation of what lay ahead, she realized how brave he really was.
“I hear soldiers in Afghanistan are working with conservationists now,” he said. “So maybe if they send me back I’ll be planting more trees. If not, I’m going to spend some time in prison. Two years is a long time. I don’t expect you to wait.”
“Two years isn’t a long time for a dryad,” Dessa whispered.
“Is that true?” he wondered. “Seriously?”
“Two years will pass like the blink of a mortal eye,” she said with a small smile, tucking her hands in his pockets.
He kissed her then, tilting her chin up to meet him. When he finally pulled away, his breath was soft on her cheek. “How did you find me, anyway?”
“I don’t know,” Dessa said. “But I swear I didn’t bind you.”
Nick raised one cocksure eyebrow. “Maybe
I
bound
you.
”
“Maybe you did.” She smiled, deciding that maybe a mortal heart had a healing and binding magic all its own.
Dessa’s forest was different than Nick remembered it. Some of the old trees had sprouted anew from charred stumps, but most were gone for good. The psychologist had warned Nick that coming here would aggravate his post traumatic stress disorder, but the fighting had moved elsewhere in the country and it gladdened his heart to see that the three walnut seedlings he’d planted had survived.
Nick and the rest of his conversation crew would have to plant many more, but if he was to find Dessa anywhere, he’d bet it would be here, near this makeshift memorial.
And he was not wrong.
He came upon her at the foot of a wild olive tree, nestled on a blanket. Her eyes were closed and her long dryad legs were bare in the afternoon sun. Had it been years since he’d seen her last, or only days?
In prison, to keep himself sane, he’d imagine himself hiking up this mountain to find her. And since they let him out, how many times had he imagined that he glimpsed her beneath the dusty rim of his helmet?
Whenever he’d envisioned it, she’d always come running into his arms and he’d always had something witty to say. But now that the moment was here, he could only put down his rifle and creep closer, afraid that any sudden move might make her disappear.
She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Watching the wisps of her mahogany hair float on the breeze, he had only one overriding memory, so primal it crowded out all the rest. He remembered taking her in every way it was possible to take a woman. And he remembered that she had given herself to him in every part. She’d opened beneath all his hands, and let him touch her as if he had a right to. She’d said he was her
mate
, and he no longer doubted it.
If he was her mate, then she was also his.
His
. And the urgent need to claim her made him tremble when he stretched out his hand. He didn’t know what he was going to do until his fingers closed over her eyes. “
Dessa
,” he whispered, and when she startled awake, he held her fast. It was all he could trust himself to do.
“Lieutenant!” She laughed a sound of pure joy as she tried to pry his hand from her eyes. “Let me see you.”
“Not yet.” His mouth found the base of her throat where her pulse pounded wildly beneath his lips. “Don’t open your eyes,” he murmured. “Don’t look, don’t talk, don’t touch, just…let me…”
He felt her nod against his palm, and when he took his hand away, Dessa’s eyelashes quivered but did not fly wide. His lips drifted up her neck and across her jawline until he found her moist, half-parted lips. Then he kissed her.
And it brought him to the edge of oblivion.
Tongues tangled, teeth clashed, lips locked. The heat of it scorched the air from his lungs and some part of him was sure he’d never be able to breathe again.
But
she
breathed—in great shaking gasps. She was no figment, no illusion he had invented to heal his shattered mind. She was real, a brazen force of nature, sure of her desires. She reached for him as assertively as she ever had and he caught her wrist, this time gently. He kissed her palm before pressing it against the base of the wild olive tree. “Dessa, keep your hands still, like you were tethered.”
“Why?” she asked, a breathy whisper.
“So I can have my way with you.”
She smiled, as if it were playful mischief, but he was deadly earnest. This time he’d do it right. She wouldn’t have to
ask nicely
, or ask at all. There’d be no question that he was the one in need. And he
did
need her.
His self-control nearly snapped to see that she was already half-naked and open to him. Her gown had ridden up her thighs. He wanted to bunch it in his fists and rip it away so he could touch her. But instead, he worked the laces down the back, exposing her inch by inch. He stroked between her shoulder blades, down her spine, and everywhere his hands touched, his lips followed until he couldn’t tell if the hot rush he felt was sunlight or the warmth of her bare skin.
He kissed her thighs, adoring her—worshipping her. She kept her arms stretched over her head, as if he had tied them to the tree, and when his fingers slipped inside her, she shuddered. She rocked against his hand without pretense, her expression twisted with lust.
He cursed under his breath and pressed his erection against her hip so she could feel what she was doing to him. All his secrets lingered beneath her skin, and he wanted to be closer, flesh to flesh. He couldn’t undress quickly enough. He yanked at his zippers and popped buttons from their holes until he was as naked as she was.
Then he covered her with his body and felt her legs spread beneath him. When he entered her, she was wet and syrup-sticky inside so that the pleasure throbbed all the way to the base of his cock. But that wasn’t what nearly sent him over the edge. It was the way her knuckles whitened, as if the tree-roots in her clenched fists were the weathered headboard of her ancient bed.
He pushed deeper and buried his face in her hair. She still smelled like musk and lavender and it made him crazy. He had only one mouth to taste her, and only two hands to touch her. He couldn’t penetrate her everyplace at once anymore, but somehow this sex was more intense.
It was hard to hold himself back. He stilled, his breath ragged, and the whole world seemed to stop. Only a trickle of sweat moved between their two bodies. Then Dessa whimpered and pressed eagerly against his pelvis.
Her movements made pleasure jolt up his spine and Nick clutched at her hips. “Don’t—er, don’t do that, if you want it to last.”
But if she realized how tortured he was, she only smiled and asked, “Aren’t you a gambling man? Let’s take our chances.”
He laughed and it steadied him.
It was as if she understood all the rules had changed; her eyelashes fluttered open, revealing a flash of brilliant blue, like the sky was beneath him. He was falling into her, but he had no fear of shattering. Not anymore. Not against her.
With her eyes narrowed and wanton, Dessa took one hand from the tree and let it skid down his damp belly to the tangle of dark hair where they were joined. As if she wanted to watch his cock go into her—feel it go into her with her hand.
There was nothing for him to do but accommodate, and it was amazing. Her thighs went around his hips as he pumped within her. She shifted to take him deeper. And to his everlasting relief, she was the one who came first.
It seemed to surprise her, clawing up from some animal part of her that made her buck and thrash. If she made any sound at all, it was drowned out by his groan. He hadn’t been able to stay silent while watching her. Watching the way perspiration glistened on the upturned planes of her face as her glossy lips fell open in rapture. Then his own orgasm pulsed up in jagged spasms and he rode each wave, emptying himself into her.
If rockets had exploded overhead, he wouldn’t have heard them over the hammering heart in his chest. They rolled together in the blanket and all the rest of his senses were filled too. And he held her until the sun was much lower in the sky.
Afterwards, when he was dressed and lacing up his boots, Dessa asked, “Do you want to see your daughter?”
Nick’s fingers froze on the laces. “I thought—” he cut himself off. He dared to look at her. “I didn’t see a baby. I thought it might not have happened that night…”
“Oh, it happened,” she said, leading him to the mountain path that overlooked the poppy fields below where a little child danced amongst the pink petals of a war ravished land.
“But she’s—she’s already grown into a girl,” Nick stammered, his tongue thick in his mouth.
Dessa’s expression was bittersweet. “I told you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. “For dryads, two years is the blink of a mortal eye. I didn’t lie to you. We grow quickly. It’s our way.”
He couldn’t decide whether it made him happy or sad. He had missed those baby years, but how beautiful his daughter was now. The sense of responsibility was a physical weight that all but brought him to his knees. “We can’t let her play out there. She could be shot. She could step on a mine—”
“She’s an immortal.” Dessa soothed him. “And this is her dominion. This is one little girl you’ll never have to see bleed.”
He squinted. “Who is she dancing with?”
Now Dessa smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears. “She says she sees the spirits of three little girls…”
It made Nick swallow. “Does she know me? What’s her name?”
Dessa nodded, her eyes shining. “I named her Yasmeen, because she’s a flower of Afghanistan. And she does know you. I told her she was a blossom of my love for a broken soldier. But now my soldier is all healed and whole again.”
“I thought I was healed and whole,” Nick said hoarsely. “But now…” He didn’t know the words to express what he was feeling, so he blurted, “Now I’m broken again into three parts…you, me, and her.”
“I could bind us together.”
“So can I,” Nick said, fishing a little wooden circle from his pocket. It was a carved wooden ring, a walnut trinket that had reminded him of her.
Now Dessa held it in her hand, bewildered. “What is it?”
He didn’t answer her right away. First he kissed her. But when he spoke, he was very sure. “Let’s just say, it’s a gambler’s way of saying…I’m
all in
.”