Page 99 of Stroke of Shadows

Harper sat back on her heels, chewing slowly. “I’ve tried everything. They can’t be taken down.”

“Wyatt’s involved with some terrible people. One way or another, his luck’s going to run out.” And he was going to be there to witness it.

“Wyatt killed my father.” Harper turned towards the dancing flames. “Ilzake showed me; the memory was locked away somewhere in the back of my mind.”

“Your mind was protecting itself.”

“Maybe.” She frowned, creating delicate lines between her brows. “I don’t even remember what my parents look like, not really. But seeing the memory felt like I was reliving it. Wyatt killed my father, and my uncle acted like he didn’t care. Like he hadn’t just lost his own brother. How can family do that?”

Sythe couldn’t hold back any longer, moving slowly enough for her to pull away. He cupped her jaw, turning her to face him. “Blood just makes people related. Love and loyalty make people family.”

A single tear escaped the corner of her eye, and he brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. She sucked in a breath, the air between them humming with anticipation. It had always been like that, an invisible thread tethering them together. Sythe didn’t believe in destiny, but he couldn’t ignore their connection. It was intoxicating. Addicting.

He moved slowly, her pulse hammering against his palm as he hovered just above her lips. It had to be her choice. She may be his mate, but he’d never force her into something she didn’t want. If she chose him, he’d spend the rest of his life showing her how much she could be loved. If she didn’t, then he’d become her personal shadow, protecting her from the darkness so she could thrive in the light.

Chapter 34

Harper

There was comfort in praying, in asking for guidance even if the Gods have never answered her. She’d lit the candles, bowed her head and asked for forgiveness, and then immediately regretted it. What did she need forgiveness for?

Sythe cupped her jaw, his hand large enough to partially cover her throat. The air seemed to thicken, almost suffocating with the tension that licked across her skin like lightning.

Their eyes locked, his lips so close to hers. Teasing, he was always teasing. Heat curled through her stomach, her breathing quickening as he waited for her response. Sythe had always been pure temptation and sin. Two things she’d been taught to stay away from.

But she was no longer the woman who lived a lie. Who lived in fear. She wanted to be reborn, and what better way than with the man who’d patiently broken down her shields one by one? Who’d shown her she was a person, and not an object to be owned.

Harper closed the distance, her lips hesitant as she imitated the contact. Sythe groaned, pressing harder against her before it became a flurry of kisses and moans, his hands sinking into her hair to hold her against him. It wasn’t simply a kiss. It was a ruthless invasion, his touch so possessive it was a brand against her skin.

There was no more doubt or hesitation.

If she was his, then he was hers.

Harper tugged at the bottom of his shirt, the fabric ripping with how quickly Sythe tore it off. Next went her dress, and then her bra until they were skin to skin.

Her pussy ached, her thighs clenching in anticipation. Her experience with sex and intimacy was laughable, but she didn’t feel inexperienced with Sythe. He made her feel powerful, like she was in control.

Her back landed on something soft, Sythe’s harder body hovering over hers a second later.

“Fuck, Starlight. Do you see what you do to me?” He pressed his hips to hers, and she felt his hardness through his jeans. His next kiss was bruising, his hands sweeping over her body as if he was memorising every dip and curve.

“Please,” she begged, needing him inside her. Needing him to erase the echoes of hurt and betrayal.

Sythe’s lips moved to her neck, and there was a second of panic. Her memory and reality fighting for control. He felt it, tensing above her before moving away.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean—”

Harper didn’t let him finish, rising up on her elbows to claim his lips. She refused to let Ivan or any of the other men ruin the moment, pushing every raw memory to the back of the mind so she could live in the moment. She wasn’t afraid of Sythe’s touch. Instead, she craved it. He made her feel beautiful with every stroke of his fingers and every caress of his lips. He’d never hurt her, not even in anger. And that was the difference between him and the men that had surrounded her life. Sythe claimed to be a monster, but he was far from it.

Something inside him seemed to snap, his growl rumbling around them as he tore at his jeans and freed his cock. Harper’s pussy clenched at the sight, the head already leaking. His thumb brushed across his slickness, and she was sure the fabric of her underwear was just as wet, if not more so. She quickly pulled them off her hips, finding power in baring herself to him. Of having no clothes or shields.

“My, what a pretty pussy you have,” Sythe growled, appraising her body slowly as he pumped his cock in his fist. “Touch yourself for me, Starlight.”

Harper touched the skin on her stomach, sweeping her fingers down to circle around her clit. Sythe didn’t seem to be breathing above her, his hand moving languorously over his length and his eyes pinned to her fingers.

She wanted to rush, her internal ache growing until all she could think about was her growing release. Sythe’s lips parted when she dipped a single finger inside, the digit glistening as she forced herself to slowly pump. To bring herself to orgasm while his eyes devoured her.

Sythe chuckled, his hands pressing open her thighs. “I think you can take a little bit more.” Leaning down, he used the flat of his tongue to lick across her pussy, burying his face between her legs.

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