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Chapter Twelve
AssoonasRukiahad begged him to take her away, Isaiah had complied. From the moment he’d heard her speak, the moment she’d met his gaze with a fierceness few could conjure, he’d fought against the urge to steal her away. Now, he finally gave in.
The world twisted around them, dizzying but familiar, until their feet hit solid ground. Rukia, yet clinging to his shirt, had clenched her eyes shut, trusting him completely.
A poor choice, really.
Familiar surroundings met his gaze as his vision cleared, the coolness of the desert night a soothing sensation against his skin. A stark contrast from the Utah climate, the Iowa humidity was an oppressive force compared with the dry air that’d been Isaiah’s constant through the centuries.
Against his chest, Rukia filled her lungs and opened her eyes. Blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, her head lifting slightly from his chest. “Where are we?”
“My territory in Utah.”
He’d teleported them to the illuminated terrace outside his home, overlooking the township that held his people. Built into a rocky outcrop, the modern three story was separated by geometric slabs of white stone. Black rimmed glass panes opened the entire southern-facing front of his home, providing his people with a view of their sovereign’s presence.
Rukia stepped away from him, her head swinging around as she took in the environment. Tentatively, she moved toward the edge.
Peering over the ledge of the terrace, her hands connected with the waist-high white stone. The dark curtain of her long ebony hair whispered forward over her shoulder, her fingers absently tucking it behind her ear.
Isaiah couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Everything about the woman was utterly and unbelievably alluring. In all the long years of his life, he’d never meet someone who’d captivated him as much as Rukia did. Her fierce nature, paired with her passionate and dauntless attitude, had never left him wanting.
Moreover, she was singularly the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.
Scowling at the direction of his own thoughts, he shook his head. Moving to join her, he stood beside her stoically, his eyes automatically scrutinizing his territory for any sign of disruption.
Rukia glanced behind them. “Is this your home?”
He nodded, his eyes still tracing over the familiar shapes and outlines of the homes in his purview. Every home belonged to members of his clan, the dwellings as unique and varied as the individuals who inhabited them. He visited every one of them often to maintain the strong psychic connection that tied them together.
Subconsciously, his mind speared through the mental network that linked him with his clansmen, testing the bonds and verifying the health and rigidity of the map in his mind. Though he’d been gone for less than a day, Isaiah hadn’t become sovereign of his clan by being anything but vigilant.
“I kept expecting him to walk through the door.” Rukia’s eyes were still drawing over his home as she spoke. “To find him rooted to the earth outside, communing with his element. Gideon was so much more enmeshed with his element than any single one of us—far more intuitive and instinctual than the majority of Elementals.”
She shook her head tragically, her eyes deadening as she continued. “He led us as if by second nature. I can’t do that. I’m not built the way he was.”
Isaiah felt the unfamiliar pang of empathy toward her before he met her gaze. “Give yourself time, Rukia. Leadership isn’t a title you inherit, it’s about impact and inspiration. In that, I have no doubt you’ll succeed.”
The brown of Rukia’s eyes slitted, a hint of suspicion and sarcasm highlighting in her eyes. “You’ve a flair for the melodramatic, Isaiah.”
A ghost of a smile lined Isaiah’s lips. “Would you prefer I take off the kid gloves?”
“I’m no child, Raeth.” Rukia’s chin inclined, the staunch determination highlighting on her features, bidding him to take up the challenge.
Taking a step forward, he looked down at her and cocked an eyebrow. “You certainly are not, Rukia.”
Desire ignited in his blood at the close proximity to the female who stood toe to toe with him, uncaring for the strength that coursed through his veins. Electricity arched between them, a devious yearning he’d fought against since the moment he’d met her. Tingling heat flushed though him, hitching in his breath.
Studying the ruby red of her lips, his parted slightly in eager anticipation.
And when Rukia’s hand tentatively reached up to seductively trace the buttons on his wrinkled shirt, he nearly gave in to the urge to capture her lips.
Rukia didn’t miss the subtle shift in his position, the elevated breathing of the Raeth she held in her thrall. The corners of her lips twisted up in a coy smile. She pressed forward, as if feeling the draw herself, needing the closeness.
Because Gideon was dead—or close to it—and he was taking advantage of her.
Displeased with both his lack of control and the oddity of his own response, he turned away. She’d called him honorable this morning, but there was no honor in this. Every ounce of desire he’d felt iced, doused under the latest blow against his integrity.
