Chapter 20 #3
Controlling the eye roll, I said, “The lycanthropes you want to release.”
“That’s not the question you want to ask, is it, little minx?”
His smile bared the edges of his teeth, reminding me that they could shift to fangs—and were as dangerous as vampire fangs. Heat wisped over the spot on my neck where he’d tested them.
He turned to face me, his shoulder nearly brushing mine. “I’m not easily swayed by a beautiful woman or evasive questions. Be direct with me. I value that far more than I ever will manipulation.”
I held his unrelenting gaze. “I’m not trying to manipulate you.
It would be in our best interest to trust each other, but you only offer tidbits of information about things you believe I need to know.
Trusting you is very difficult when you do that.
” It felt like each step we took toward getting to know each other and him opening up, he’d take ten hops away.
“I want to know about the war, Goddess Annessa, the lycanthropes, and your realm. I want to know it all. No detail is too insignificant.”
Especially any information about the goddess who, at the very mention of her name, caused so much wistful sorrow.
I couldn’t be the only one hearing the breathiness of my words.
Cirrian was beautiful from afar. He was breathtaking this close up.
His immersive amber eyes were increasingly hard to hold, but averting mine from them was just as difficult.
I was drawn to him, and his magic, which was simultaneously turbulent and comforting.
Logic should have pricked at my protective instincts, urging me to retreat, but logic had taken a hiatus.
I wanted to be closer. Needed to be closer.
Take in all aspects of him and his magic.
Wield it. Own it. Become one with it and him.
I questioned if my desire was from the symbiotic relationship between our magic.
Even when I didn’t have full access to mine, did it see him as kindred?
I caught myself slowly leaning into him. With great effort, I snatched my gaze from his. They dropped to his lips—his alluring lips. Inviting. Tantalizing.
I surrendered to temptation, crushing my mouth against his with a ferocity that surprised us both.
His tongue invaded, tasting of wine and desire as he pressed me back onto the sofa.
Arching beneath him, my thighs instinctively parted as his weight settled between them.
Pressing closer to his hardness, I was desperate to feel more of him.
His lips were velvet heat devouring mine. Each deliberate stroke of his tongue sent heat racing through me. A moan escaped me when he caught my lower lip between his teeth. His eyes locked with mine. Wells of amber fire. Dark, commanding, promising pleasure I feared and craved.
Cirrian’s fingers dug into my shirt, then slipped beneath, caressing my skin.
I gasped at the contact, my body responding with shameless need.
I twisted my fingers through his hair, yanking him closer, desperate to consume more of him.
Magic crackled around us. Tendrils of magic swirled around me, caressing my exposed skin with phantom touches, intensifying every sensation.
Heat blazed between my legs where he was nestled.
My body wanted more, but reason prevailed.
Ending our kiss. Our gentle pants filled the room.
He shifted, giving me space to slide out from under him.
My body raged against the denial of pleasure, and there was no way to hide it.
I stood, and so did he. His smirk felt like a taunt and a challenge that I ignored.
As I straightened my clothes, I looked around the room, giving myself a reminder of where we were.
Diehle’s home. The residence of a demon Cirrian had killed.
His morbid fate resurfaced along with the many facets of Cirrian that I couldn’t ignore.
He’d closed the distance I’d put between us. His fingers languidly traced along my jaw and ended at my chin, lifting it to meet his eyes. His amber eyes had darkened; the hunter-green coloring around them deepened. His pupils were still dilated with desire.
“Tell me about Goddess Annessa and the war,” I pressed.
The question, like frigid water, cooled any heat between us.
“Very well, Kara.” Releasing my chin, he rested his forehead against mine.
Slowly, he lifted his hand to my face, his thumb stroking my cheek with surprising tenderness.
“She was the ruler of Gyaneth. We had been together for nearly eighty years. I loved her and”—pain flickered across his features—“she loved me, too. But not more than the people of her land—the lycans.”
He sighed. “She had a mild temper but could be driven to anger when it came to the lycanthropes. She protected them at all costs.” His lips beveled to a hard frown.
“She remained neutral during many of the conflicts we were involved in. And she would have done the same in the conflict between us and the draveths. She never would have allowed them to enter the war if I hadn’t requested that of her.
It was a conflict we couldn’t afford to lose, because the draveths had acquired magic over the centuries, omni-magic.
Magic like yours. We would have lost our advantage, and no realm would have been safe from them.
Not even this one. The lycans entering the conflict did something to Annessa.
She despised the violence and cruelty her people needed to unleash to help us defeat them. ”