Page 2 of Bitter Sweet Love

The curve of his jaw jutted out and his eyes flashed. “Jasmine.”

My back straightened, as if steel had been dropped down my spine at the sound of my name. “Dad?”

“You were out there again.” It wasn’t a question.

He made it sound as if I was chilling in the Gaza Strip instead of merely flying over mountains. I decided to play the old avoidance game. “I thought you were in New York City.”

“I was.” As he strode toward me, he too took on his human form. The effervescence of his eyes faded as his wings receded into his skin and his features became more commonplace. But he was no less fearsome as he stared down at me, and it took everything I had to match him, glare for glare.

I got my dark hair and my height from my father, but the rest was from my mother—the fair skin and more curves than the back roads of Greenwich.

“Where are your sister and Claudia?” he demanded.

At nearly forty-two, Claudia was the oldest female in our clan and our token matriarch. Most females didn’t make it to that age. Not when they regularly died during childbirth or were gleefully picked off by demons. It was a worrisome trend. Without females, the Wardens would eventually die off.

“Danika is with Claudia.” We took turns distracting her so we could sneak out. “I think they’re doing some late lesson plans.” Or Danika was currently banging her head against a wall. Like me, she was keenly aware that being shut up in the house, as pretty as it was, was still being caged.

In the sky, the fat moon slipped behind a cloud, as if taunting me. I took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t go very far. I was just—”

“It doesn’t matter.” He waved it off, and immediately the tiny hairs on my body prickled. Unease poured into me. Since when did my sneaking off not matter? He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “Things are going to change. You won’t be able to take flight whenever you feel like it going forward.”

My brows rose. “Wh-what does that mean?”

His lips curved up, and some of the tension seeped out of my rigid muscles. When he smiled, it meant something good, and he hadn’t smiled much since Mom was killed. Unlike most Warden matings, theirs had turned into a love affair, going beyond their duties to our race. Once upon a foolish time, I had hoped the same thing would happen to me.

“I have good news for you, Jasmine.” He moved his hand to my back, steering me toward the door leading toward the top floor of our home. “You are going to be happy.”

“Really?” Now excitement gripped me like a warm hug. “Are you going to take me to New York City? Or to DC?” Apart from my late-night flights, I’d never been anywhere besides this little section of the world and there was so much I wanted to see. I was practically bouncing at the prospect. “Or are you going to let me go to the mall without Leo and an entire fleet of Wardens? Because they make it seriously hard for a girl to do some shopping. And they scare people. So it’s awkward.”

His lips twitched up at the corners as he waited for the door to open. Our house, which was the size I imagined a high school to be, was as heavily guarded as Fort Knox. “No. It’s better than that.”

“Better?” Holy Christ, I was going to have a stroke from the anticipation.

Once inside the house, he turned to me. Warmth radiated from his gaze. I tensed up, seconds from squealing. “Dez has returned.”

Blood rushed from my head so fast I thought I’d faint. I knew I hadn’t heard him right. There was no way. “What?”

My father’s smile spread. “He’s back, Jasmine.”

There was a roaring in my ears.

“And he’s claimed you,” he continued, completely oblivious to the fact that I was seconds from dying on the roof right in front of him. “You will be mated in seven days.”

Chapter Two

I was not happy.

I was knee deep in freak-out mode.

Dez was back after leaving for three years, without so much as saying a “Hey, I’m skipping out and leaving you,” or a goodbye or anything? He’d just up and left after...

I tried to swallow, but there was something huge in my throat. I hadn’t heard from him in three years. Not a single phone call, email or letter. Nothing. I hadn’t even known if he was dead or alive. No one in our clan had known. He’d vanished, his sudden departure as horrifyingly abrupt as the death of my mother. There one second and gone the next.

Home hadn’t even been home since he left.

“Are you breathing?” my sister asked, her voice floating from somewhere behind me. “Jasmine?”

Consumed with not hurling all over the place, I wasn’t sure if I was breathing or not. I stared at my reflection in the vanity. Light blue eyes stared back at me, set in a face way too pale against the darkness of my hair. Even my lips looked leeched of blood. My cheekbones appeared too sharp, too angular.

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