Page 70 of Ancient Magic

“The thought that we have anything in common,” she retorted. “Your unique talents gave you a seat on the Vampire Cabal and a fabulous lair filled with treasures. Mine gave me years of imprisonment by a horde of demons and a kidnapping by yet another demon who is determined to start a war,” she reminded him. “That doesn’t include the vision of watching the world burn.”

He flinched, as if her words caused him physical pain. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of the bastards who held you captive.”

She reached up to press her fingers against his lips. “I’m not trying to get sympathy. My life hasn’t been that bad; in fact, the past few years have been wonderful,” she said. And it was true. Since moving into the Witch’s Brew, she’d discovered that it was possible to wake each morning with a sense of anticipation that it was going to be a great day. And to know that she would always have her friends at her side. It was a gift that she never took for granted. “But I’m not sure we have much in common.”

His fingers circled her wrist, pressing his lips to the center of her palm before he allowed his fangs to lengthen, scraping them down sensitive flesh to rest against the vein of her inner wrist.

“Then I’ll have to convince you.”

Skye’s heart thumped against her ribs, her stomach quivering with a fevered yearning. She wanted to be convinced. Over and over and over...

“How would you do that?” Her voice was a rough rasp, her breath coming out in jagged pants.

He’d done nothing more than touch her with the tips of his fangs and she was on fire. What would happen if he actually bit her? Spontaneous combustion?

It was a real possibility.

“I could start with this.” He grazed his fangs up her forearm before lifting his head. His expression was stark with hunger. The same hunger that pulsed inside her. “Or maybe you prefer this?”

He bent down to claim her mouth with a blatant need. Skye grasped his shoulders as her back curved beneath the pressure of his kiss, but she didn’t protest. In fact, she met him kiss for ravenous kiss. She hated being treated like a china doll, especially when she was in a man’s arms.

Micha muttered something in an ancient language, his hands cupping her backside to haul her tight against his thickening erection. Skye had a moment to savor the sheer size of his arousal before she was distracted as his tongue dipped between her lips.

She moaned in pleasure, the urge to tug him toward the nearby bed thundering through her. She wanted his powerful hands ripping off her dress and spreading her legs before his heavy body was pressing her into the mattress and his fangs were sinking deep into her throat.

As if able to read her mind, Micha turned his head to glide his fangs down the curve of her neck.

“You taste of destiny,” he murmured in a thick voice.

Destiny...

The word whispered in the back of her mind, setting off tiny bells of alarm. Skye stiffened, the unwelcome memory of flames and doom intruding into the dreamy sense of bliss.

Dammit.

Why couldn’t her visions be of buttercups and puppies? Or bathing in chocolate? Or spending endless centuries devouring the male who was nuzzling the pulse at the curve of her throat?

Heaving a heavy sigh, Skye pressed her hands against his broad chest. “Speaking of destiny,” she reluctantly said.

Slowly Micha lifted his head, frustration boiling deep in his eyes. “Are you reminding me that we’re wasting time?”

Skye smoothed her hands over his hard muscles. “It doesn’t feel wasted.”

An insatiable craving throbbed in the air between them, but Micha forced his arms to lower as he stepped back.

“No, but you’re right,” he agreed. “We need to concentrate on stopping Lynx.” His gaze continued to smolder with desire. “But soon.”

An aching regret tugged at her heart. What if they couldn’t halt the coming flames? What if she never discovered the intense pleasure of having this male moving inside her...

No, she couldn’t think like that.

She had to believe they were going to turn fate and save the world.

“Soon,” she whispered.

His fangs remained fully extended, but regaining his composure, Micha pointed toward the door.

“My library is the second door on the left.”

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