Page 123 of Legacy of Chaos

“I know.” Reaching up, she cupped his jaw. And then, using the seductive powers of her species, she altered her hair color, turning it wavy and fiery red. She made her eye color hazel with flecks of emerald green. Her skin paled, and she summoned a smattering of freckles.

Blade’s gaze grew hotter, his despair fading as his libido won the battle over emotion. Reaching behind her, he caught her around the back of her neck and tugged her close. She bumped against his chest and brought her lips up to meet his.

His eyes bored into hers, flames of lust flickering in their depths. “What do you look like when you go to Stryke?”

“I’ve tried every female combination under the sun,” she said, her lips so close to his she could feel their heat. “And he never showed any preferences.” Until Cyan. “But I bet he’s now as partial to short platinum hair and violet eyes as you are to sassy redheads with hazel eyes.”

With a low growl, he captured her mouth and kissed her hard, one hand fisting her hair at the nape of her neck, the other hauling her ass up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She purred in delight. Tonight was going to be frenzied and furious.

Tonight, he’d definitely call her Scotty.

Chapter 30

Yawning, Cyan stretched on the living room floor in front of the roaring fire and then snuggled deeper into the fluffy blankets Stryke had wrapped them in. They’d spent hours tangled with each other, drowning in erotic bliss. She still hadn’t recovered from the last round, their cries breaking with the dawn streaming through the massive picture window.

The scent of coffee drifted to her, and she opened her eyes as Stryke knelt on the floor, two mugs in his hands.

Moaning in appreciation, she propped herself up against the back of the couch. “Thank you,” she said, taking one of the mugs. “I’m going to need this after last night.”

His naughty smile made her heart beat a little faster. “I’d apologize, but you didn’t seem to mind the lack of sleep.”

“Totally worth it.” She wrapped her hands around the mug and let the warmth seep into her. “But do you mind if I make an observation?”

“As long as it’s not a critique of my performance,” he said, getting comfortable on the blanket, “go for it.”

She laughed. “Your performance was exemplary.”

Holding up his mug in salute, he gave her a cocky wink. She laughed again.

“You did seem a little extra…intense, though,” she said, getting a little more serious. “It felt like you were trying to keep busy.”

He studied the contents of his mug, his brow furrowed. “That’s what I like about you,” he said after a moment. “You see me. All of me, including my faults.”

“Of which you have many,” she said, teasing, expecting him to argue.

To her surprise, he agreed. “I do. And running away from my thoughts is one of them. I’m a self-centered asshole, Cyan.”

“I do believe we’ve covered that topic,” she said, still trying to keep things light, afraid he’d slide down a dark hole. They had things to talk about, and she needed him in a mentally sound place. “More than once.”

He actually laughed but sobered quickly. “My company has been my sole focus since I started it. I was desperate to save the world from demons and spare people the pain that Chaos’s death caused my family. Such a noble cause, right?” He laughed again, but this time it dripped with bitterness. “I justified everything I did in the name of saving the planet. Most of it I wouldn’t change, but the pain I caused…I’d take it back. I regret all of it.”

She was almost afraid to ask, but she had to. He needed to talk. Needed to lance an infected emotional wound, as her mother would have said. “What do you regret?”

Those dark eyes drilled into her, measuring her. Assessing her ability to handle his answer.

Her reaction to his next words would matter to him. A lot.

“I stole from my uncle Eidolon.”

Holy shit. “What did you—?”

She inhaled sharply, recalling the conversation she’d had with one of StryTech’s lab techs. He’d said that Stryke’s acquisition of their DNA samples was a mystery.

“DNA,” she breathed. “Of course! That’s where you’ve been getting the genetic material for your DeTecht machines.”

His gaze fell away, fixing on the fire. “Eidolon called me on it. And then I talked to Crux, who wanted to know why I suddenly gave a shit about him, and it hit me that Blade’s right. He’s such a dick—gods, he’s a dick—but he’s right. I hurt my family and called it the price of saving the world, when what I was really doing was running from my own pain.”

“I understand,” she said, looking down at her cup of coffee, the brew as dark as Stryke’s eyes. “I’ve been doing the same thing. It was easier to hate you than it was to process my pain. Heck, I haven’t even opened the bridesmaid gift Shan gave me because I’m too much of a coward.”

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