Stone Guardian(105)

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, her hips squirming against his, pushing him harder inside her. Using her heels, she pulled him in. “Deeper, Terak. Get as deep as you can in me and make me come.”

Her words broke any restraint and now he only knew her, to pound inside her and pour himself into his mate, to mark her so deeply no one who beheld her would ever doubt to whom she belonged, and her cry of satisfaction while her body clenched around him signaled her acceptance of that claim.

His head fell back as he came inside her, growling and cursing at one of the strongest orgasms of his life came over him.

Long moments later when their breathing normalized, she looked up at him. Her eyes were dreamy, her lovely breasts bare and covered by a light layer of sweat. She lifted her hands, delicate human fingers stroking over brow bone and pointed ears, pulling strands of his much thicker hair. “Why would I want to be with anyone but you?”

He leaned down, kissing her mouth, letting her surety overcome his doubts. “We are supposed to meet with your father soon. I doubt he will be happy if I bring you to him in this condition.”

“We’ll stop at my apartment to get cleaned up.” She smiled, a light teasing cast to her mouth. “Don’t be overworried about making a bad impression. No matter what you do, Dad’s going to hate you on sight.”

Terak reared back. “I thought you said that he would accept me?”

“Oh yes, he’s going to accept you. He has no choice on that. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to like you. You are taking away his baby girl, after all.”

“Is it always like this with humans?”

“Welcome to the family.”





Chapter Forty-One





Zemar waited outside, silent and still, a living statue hidden in the ragged shadows cast by the building.

The acolyte arrived, oblivious to his presence. The boy’s focus was on the pouch he carried. He stroked the pouch with a hand that trembled with the slightest touch, the way most caressed a lover. The boy was laughable in his overt desire for power, a power he could no more wield than a toddler rule a nation.

Would the boy be foolish enough to run with the dagger? It was a powerful temptation, promising untold power to one who could master it.

No, no running for this one. The sheen of sweat coating his face even on this cold autumn night, the wide eyes and shallow breaths answered the question. He coveted, but he would obey.

The boy was right to let his fear triumph over any ambitions he might harbor. The dagger would only destroy him.

The boy approached the door. Zemar melted from the shadows to enjoy the panic of the boy before he registered who stood before him. The boy bowed, holding forth the weapon for Zemar to take. “Master,” was all he said.

Zemar spoke no words to him. The blade now in his hands, he went into the building, taking the elevator to the top apartment.

The apartment was an expansive space, leather and chrome shaping the interior. The far wall was made of glass, and from this dizzying height the effect was the city laid bare, showing its soft underbelly in submission.

A couch was situated in front of the window and Zemar approached it. Reign sat in the middle, his arms draped over the back of the couch, the drained body of a young woman on the ground, her red hair a blanket over his feet.

Reign did not bother to take the dagger, merely continued his observation of the city. “Fallon?”

“She is still alive, my Lord.”

Reign’s rich laugh filled the air. “As if she were ever in any danger from the fools that were present.” His eyes darkened to black-red. He murmured, “The only one who will take Fallon is me.”

Zemar watched his Master stroke his hand over his lips while his gaze stayed on the window. With a negligent movement, Reign reached out his hand. Zemar obeyed, handing the dagger over.

Reign studied the blade, twisting it in his hand to go over every inch with his gaze. “How many did she kill?”

“Dozens, my Lord, until her sword was dull with the blood of her enemies.”

Reign stroked the edge of the dagger with his forefinger until a drop of blood was drawn. The blood absorbed into the blade. “Only that? I will see her bathed in blood before me.”



*****



“And what of the Oracle’s prophecy?”

Fallon snorted. “The usual crap she pulls. Of course Larissa was important to the Gargoyle Clan, she’s going to be the wife of the Clan Leader and make future heirs to the throne. Is it me, or is using untold powers to play matchmaker a little beneath her?”

“The young enjoy getting into mischief. She will grow out of it.”

“Well that’s an interesting statement. Tell me, how old is she, and how much younger is she than you?”