Dark Beginnings: The Darkest Fire / The Darkest Prison / The Darkest Angel. Gena Showalter

To a room the owner must have used. He laid her on a thin pallet of fur. “May I?” he asked, lifting the amethyst that housed his soul.

      “Yes.” She had planned to present it to him once their mission was completed, a gift for his aid, but she nodded. Right now, there was a good chance she would not complete anything.

      “Is my soul inside?”

      “Yes. All you must do is hold the stone over your heart.”

      “That easily?”

      “Yes,” she repeated. She wasn’t capable of more.

      Slowly, carefully, he worked the stone from around her neck and placed it over his heart as she’d instructed. His eyes closed. He was probably unsure what would happen. And at first, nothing did. Then, in gradual degrees, the jewel began to glow.

      A frown pulled at Geryon’s lips, and he grunted. “Burns.”

      “I’ll hold it for y—”

      The glow exploded into a thousand pinpricks of light, and he roared, loud and long.

      After the last echo sounded, everything quieted. The lights faded. Only the chain that had held the jewel remained in his hand.

      His frown was lifting into a smile as his eyes opened. But when he studied his arms and then his body, the frown returned, deeper, more intense. “I should have…I did not…I had hoped to return to my former visage.”

      “Why?” She loved him, just as he was. Horns, fangs, claws and all. Loved. Unquestionably. She had considered it before, but had discarded the idea. Now, there could be no discarding. The emotion was there, undeniable as Death stared her in the face.

      No man had ever been more perfectly suited for her. He was not disgusted by her nature, he reveled in it. He did not fear what she could do, but found pride in it. He delighted her, amused her, tempted her.

      “It is my hope that…that…” He gulped. “If you bond with something else, something besides the wall, perhaps your ties to it will lessen and your strength will return. Perhaps the pain will ease.”

      Something else? “You?” she asked, suddenly breathless for reasons that had nothing to do with pain.

      “Yes. Me. I would understand if you choose not to do such a thing. I wanted only to offer the possibility so that—”

      “Geryon?”

      “Yes?”

      “Shut up and kiss me.”

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      GERYON REMAINED IN PLACE, looking away from her. “First, hear me out. I know I’m ugly. I know the thought of being with me in such a manner is abhorrent, but I—”

      “You aren’t ugly,” Kadence interjected, “and I do not like that you think you are. I do not like when you demean yourself like that.”

      His attention whipped back to her and he blinked at her, astonishment shining in his expression.

      She continued, “The thought of being with you is welcome. I promise you. Now can we kiss?”

      Now his mouth opened and closed. “Welcome?”

      She supposed not. “Yes. But I don’t want you to bond with me simply to save me.” She had once been too afraid to admit she craved his body, had pretended merely to be grateful to get a kiss. There would be no more pretending. “I want you to want to do this. Because I…I want you inside of me, becoming part of me, more than I want another tomorrow. I want to be your woman, now and always.”

      Before he could respond, another pain slicked through her, raining like poisoned hail and curling her into a ball. Another crack had just slithered through the wall; she saw it in her mind.

      “Geryon?” she panted. “You must decide.”

      His gaze bore into her. “I once swore that were I ever lucky enough to regain my soul, I would never, for any reason, trade it again. I have just realized that I would willingly trade it for you, Kadence. So yes, I want to do this. Now we can kiss.”

      AS THEIR MOUTHS WORKED hungrily, Geryon slowly divested Kadence of her robe, careful not to hurt her with his razor-sharp nails. She was already in pain and he doubted she could bear much more. Beautiful, precious woman. She deserved only pleasure.

      For whatever reason, she desired him. Desired forever. Together. She had given him the thing he’d thought he valued most—his soul—but he had not known until he’d watched her curl into a ball that he valued her more. Far more. He’d longed to take her pain into himself. For her, anything. She cared not that he was a beast. She saw to the heart of him, and liked it.

      Amazing.

      When she was naked, he pulled back and drank her in. Alabaster skin dusted with the sweetest hint of rose. Lush breasts, a curved waist, a navel his mouth watered to sample. Legs that stretched for miles. He bent and licked one of her nipples, laving his tongue around the delectable tip, his hands traveling all over her body.

      The closer his fingers came to her core, the more she purred a deep sigh of satisfaction, her pain seeming to melt away. “The pleasure, it’s replacing the pain,” she said, confirming his thoughts.

      Thank the gods. He moved his attention to her other nipple, sucking, allowing the tip of a fang to graze it ever so gently. She moaned.

      “Still helping?” All the while his fingers teased just above her clitoris, not touching, only teasing. Was he doing this right? Please, gods, let him be doing this right.

      “Still helping. But I want to see you,” she said, giving his armor a pointed stare.

      He lifted his head and peered into her eyes. “Are you sure? I could take you without removing a single piece of armor.”

      “I want all of you, Geryon.” Her features were luminescent. “All.”

      Beautiful, precious woman, he thought again. “Whatever you desire, you shall have.” He only hoped she did not change her mind when she saw him.

      “Do not fear my reaction. You are beautiful to me.”

      Such sweet words. But…he’d lived with his insecurities so long, they were a part of him. “How can I be? Look at me. I am a beast. A monster. Something to be feared and reviled.”

      “I am looking at you and you are something to be praised. You may not bear the appearance of other men, but you have strength and courage. Besides,” she added, licking her lips, “animal magnetism is a very good thing. Now, show your future bride what she wants to see.”

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      GERYON REMOVED HIS BREAST cloth and tossed it aside, his toocorded chest with its scars, fur and over-large bones revealed. His hands shook as he then unwound the leather wrapped around his waist, as well as the rounded piece of armor, slowly revealing his hardened shaft, his scarred and fur-lined thighs.

      He tensed, waiting for the inevitable gasp of horror, even though Kadence had assured him of his “animal magnetism.”

      “Beautiful,” she said reverently. “A true warrior. My warrior.” She reached up and ran her fingertips through that fur. “Soft. I like. No. I love.”

      Breath seeped from his parted lips, breath he had not realized he’d been holding until just then. “Kadence. Sweet Kadence,” he rasped. She was…she was…everything. What had he ever done to deserve her? If he hadn’t fallen in love with her already, he would have fallen then.

      “Want to taste you.”

      “Please.”

      As the hottest thrum of desire he’d ever experienced pounded through him, he kissed his way down her stomach, stopping only to dip his tongue