…
The soft strains of a tune woke Lina from her slumber. She shot to a sitting position, the unfamiliarity of the situation prompting her system into fight mode. But then she remembered that Dagan had spent the night. Her body relaxed, only to tense again once she’d fully processed that.
Dagan had slept here. He’d purposely sought her out after his fight with Ronin.
They’d kissed.
Oh, hell.
She should be regretting what had happened between them. She knew that. But last night, for the first time, she’d felt like maybe it was okay to let go of the past. To allow herself to find happiness again.
It had felt good.
The whisper of Dagan’s deep, melodic voice filtered in through the barrier of the closed door. She couldn’t hear what he was singing, but it sounded beautiful. She’d never heard him sing before, and right now, that seemed like the worst sort of shame. His voice was divine.
She wanted to hear more of it.
Lina tossed back her cream comforter and rose, stalking over to the closet to dig out a pair of jeans and a turquoise tank top that matched the color of Dagan’s glamoured eyes. She dressed and threw on a pair of boots, racing in her desire to get closer to the source of the sound. The music called to her like a siren song, propelling her forward.
She opened her bedroom door, and all the breath whooshed out of her lungs in one deep exhale.
Dagan sat on her couch in his T-shirt and boxers, expertly plucking the strings on her guitar. His head was down, so he didn’t notice her presence.
Gods, his voice.
Its haunting, naked beauty was incomparable to anything she’d ever heard before. It made her ache to kneel before him, to listen to him sing forever…a niggling compulsion she almost didn’t want to fight.
Sirens had an ability to control others with their voice, so the tickling impulse to worship him must be due to that half of his heritage. Luckily she was able to fight it off, which meant that the melding of the siren bloodline with demon must have diluted the strength of his voice.
Not its beauty, though. No pure siren song could have sounded more alluring.
Lina approached Dagan with light, faltering steps. He didn’t shift from his position, but rather, continued to play the guitar with the quiet confidence of a man who had no clue he was being watched. The slow, soft song he sang had a familiar melody, and after a few moments, she placed it with a slight shock. “Isn’t that from one of those Twilight movies?”
He twitched, and his fingers froze while his gaze flew up to her. In the span of an instant, the expression on his face went from startled to amused. He threw his head back in loud laughter. Adopting a grin, he drawled, “Mornin’, sunshine.”
“Morning,” she repeated shyly.
“So…you actually watched those vampire movies?”
“No.”
Crap.
“Maybe.” Her cheeks heated as she took a seat on the couch next to him.
His wide grin told her how much amusement he found in that. “The song is by a band called Muse.”
“I’ve heard of them. What’s the title?”
“I Belong to You.”
Dagan’s eyes, which gazed into hers, flashed with a sudden burst of intensity, heating her from the inside out.
“You have a beautiful voice,” she murmured.
“I don’t sing often. My fath—Mammon didn’t like it. He thought it made me weaker.”
That didn’t surprise her in the slightest, considering what she’d learned from Ronin about their father. “Don’t stop. Please.”
He hesitated for a moment, but then his fingers began to pluck at the strings once again. His eyes lowered to the guitar, and his voice joined in with chords. She found herself shivering when the lyrics flowed from his lips, sounding almost like they were meant for her. By the time the last haunting, beautiful melody played out, her body ached with unspent desire and silent tears streamed down her cheeks.
He noted them and set her guitar on the floor with the neck leaning against the side of the couch. A shadow of a smile crept to his face. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever made a girl cry before breakfast.”
Feeling foolish, Lina wiped her cheeks. “It’s just so beautiful. If I were you, I’d never stop singing.”
“I always hear music in my head,” he confided, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Most of the time I manage to hold it back, but every once in awhile it escapes me. I sometimes wonder how my mother kept sane.”
That was the first time she’d ever heard him mention his mother. “Do you know anything about her? Your mother, I mean.”
When Dagan absently scratched at the day’s growth on his chin, little flutters of excitement skyrocketed the beat of her heart. She forced her sight away from his long, elegant fingers, desperately trying to pay attention to his response.