Beyond the Darkness. Alexandra Ivy

her waist.

      “I doubt he’ll be in a chatty mood,” she rasped.

      Salvatore’s lips twisted. Under normal circumstances, no Were would have been capable of escaping his grasp. Being king did have its benefits. This whole premating thing sucked.

      Well, the loss of his power sucked.

      The rest…

      It was definitely growing on him.

      “We’ll see.” He sucked in a deep breath, attempting to halt any more growing. Time for his own attempt at distraction. “What of the jinn?”

      Genuine surprise flashed through her eyes. “How did you…” She shook her head. “No, never mind. What about her?”

      “What’s her connection to Caine?”

      “I’m not really sure.” The hazel gaze briefly shifted toward the door before returning to Salvatore. A sure indication that Caine had kept his illegal demon under tight wraps. “He claims that he rescued her from a mage who’d held her captive for centuries. I don’t know if it’s true or not since she always stayed in one of the out-buildings. I only saw her on occasion, and she usually was at a distance.”

      Salvatore absently nodded. “He must have some means of keeping her hidden or the Oracles would already have hunted her down.”

      Harley’s brows snapped together. “What’s your interest in her?”

      A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “Jealous, Harley?”

      She turned her head, refusing to meet his teasing gaze. “For God’s sake, get over yourself.”

      His smile remained. “Don’t worry. My interest is pure self-preservation. Curs I can handle. I’d rather not provoke a jinn.”

      “They’re so dangerous?”

      “Deadly.”

      She turned back, her expression worried. “Caine said she disappeared in the tunnels. The last I knew, she hadn’t returned.”

      “Then I suppose we’ll have to hope for the best.”

      “Yeah, ’cause that’s really worked well so far,” she taunted.

      “You know, cara, when we get out of here, we’re going to have to work on that attitude of yours.”

      “If we get out of here, you’re not going to have to worry about my attitude. I’ll be long gone.”

      His gaze slid down her slender body. “You can run, but you’ll never be able to hide from me.” He lifted his head to meet the stunning hazel gaze. “Not ever.”

      Her jaw tightened. “I’ve done a pretty good job until now.”

      Salvatore stiffened. The silver that surrounded him had nearly disguised the prickles of warning that crawled over his skin.

      Without thought, he swept Harley behind him and turned toward the door.

      “Stay behind me.”

      “Sexist pig.” She punched him square in the back, nearly sending him to his knees. Cristo. “I don’t need a man to protect me.”

      He spun on his heel to meet her belligerent scowl. “This has nothing to do with protecting. I don’t want you accidentally stepping between me and Caine.”

      “Why? What are you going to do?”

      “Uberking stuff.” Unable to help himself, he caught her face in his hands and roughly kissed her. “Don’t move.”

      He turned back, sighing as he sensed Harley shift so she could see the door. She might be willing to concede his first shot at Caine, but there was no way in hell she was going to hide behind him.

      Harley wasn’t the cowering sort.

      A beat passed before the door was shoved open and Caine entered the room. Salvatore’s wolf stirred, instinctively reacting to having a male so close to his mate.

      It was his purely human side, however, that was provoked by the man’s smooth blond beauty and smug expression.

      He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he finally encountered the cur who had been a pain in his royal butt, but it wasn’t this slender man dressed in faded jeans and a black muscle shirt, who looked like he should be on the beaches of California instead of leading a cur revolt.

      He wanted to smash that too-handsome face.

      Or maybe he would just rip off his head and be done with it.

      The head ripping off became much more likely as the bastard studied Harley as if she were his favorite bone.

      “Harley, my love, you’ve been a very bad girl,” Caine taunted.

      “Screw you,” Harley muttered.

      The blue eyes glowed with a hunger that set Salvatore’s nerves on edge.

      “Later, pet,” the cur drawled. “And only if you behave.”

      Salvatore stepped close enough to the bars to feel the burn of silver.

      “Careful, cur,” he warned, his voice thick with warning.

      Stupidly confident that Salvatore was contained in his cell, Caine folded his arms over his chest.

      “Well, well,” he sneered. “If it isn’t the glorious King of Weres.”

      Salvatore glanced toward Harley. “I like glorious better than uber.”

      She rolled her eyes. “I’ll make a note of it.”

      “Of course, you’re not so glorious right now,” Caine snapped, obviously not pleased at having his moment of gloating interrupted. “I’ve seen better looking Ipar demons.”

      With insulting slowness, Salvatore returned his attention to the cur.

      “Easy to be brave when you have me locked in a cage. It would be a lot more impressive if you let me out and faced me like a man.”

      Caine laughed. “Do I look like a putz?”

      “You look like a cur with a death wish.”

      “Just the opposite. I intend to become immortal.”

      “Hard to become immortal after I’ve chopped your head off and fed it to the rats.” Salvatore paused, narrowing his gaze. “Still, just out of morbid curiosity, how do you intend to acquire this immortality?”

      Caine shrugged. “You aren’t the only one with skill in the laboratory.”

      “Skill and blind hope are two different things. There’s nothing in a test tube that can change you into a Were.”

      Caine tilted his chin, the glow of a true zealot shimmering in his eyes.

      “Obviously, there is. I saw it in a vision.”

      “Did this vision happen to occur while you were indulging in some pharmaceutical pleasures?”

      “This isn’t a joke,” Caine growled.

      “Good. I’m not laughing. Where did this vision come from?”

      “None of your damned business, Giuliani.”

      Enough. Salvatore wasn’t a patient werewolf under the best of circumstances, and at the moment he was sore, filthy, and trapped in a silver cage. His patience was nonexistent.

      Without warning his power lashed out, ramming Caine into the wall and holding him there with an invisible but very tangible force.

      “It’s Your Majesty, cur,” he corrected, his voice edged with ice.

      Caine struggled, but even with Salvatore weakened, the cur was no match for him.

      “Shit.”

      Salvatore