Page 52 of Aria's Ascension

Speaking of, Kix and Tirox were stubbornly leading her back to their cave. They made valid arguments as to why finding the other prisoners was a bad idea just then. Well, Kix made valid arguments, skilled peacemaker that he was. And she knew he was right. Smelling like arousal and blood on top of being naked was asking for trouble. Tirox mostly just growled, still a bit peeved she hadn’t let him shoot the dragon.

She didn’t argue, and, yet, for some odd reason, they didn’t seem to believe she was agreeing with them.

Hmmph. I’m notthatdamn bullheaded.

They kept at it until they decided they had no other choice than to wear her out with sex.

Hiding a wry smile, she threw her hands up and sighed, “Fine. You win! I guess we could hold off for a couple of hours.”

She caught them exchanging victorious grins over the top of her head and snorted.

She knew it was selfish, but just then, she was thankful they’d ended up in the dungeon. There were people to save, bad guys to take down, and, yes, she felt more than a little guilty for not trying harder to escape, but this time with her men was precious, and she planned to enjoy it.

Chapter 29

Aria…

She’d come, after he'd struggled for what felt like eons to convince himself the wraith that haunted his thoughts was a fabrication of his broken, fractured mind. The fierce female with golden skin and flowing, black head filaments that he could not remember and, yet, could not forget, could not possibly be real.

But, she was there, her scent filling his nose, her touch on his scarred body, her need like honeyed sap on his tongue.

He did not need sight to know her. He would recognize her anywhere, no matter how many senses they stole from him.

But, as with all things in his life, pleasure came with pain.

The males he scented were not threats, but mates.Hermates.

For one shining, intoxicating moment, he’d felt his mind returning, calming from its constant storm of rage, and then those words…

“They’re my mates.”

The pain was crippling, worse than any wound he endured during his many, many battles.

His Light, his Only had found him, but too late.

She was taken from him before he had even really accepted that she was real.

The rage returned, and with it, the Beast. It filled his mind with whispers, urging him to kill her mates, to take her for his own, to claim her.

And then, he’d done something unforgivable, something more shameful than the thousands of deaths that tormented his dreams.

I hurt her.

He could still feel her lifeblood under his claws, could still hear her hiss of pain—pain he caused—echoing in his ears.

Clarity returned in an instant, drowning out the whispers, but with it came horror.

Her mates had been ready to kill him. He had been ready to die. But, she’d stopped them, spoke to him in soft words, telling him she was alright.

She did not understand.

He knew the wound he inflicted was not fatal. It was that he’d caused her pain at all that proved he was beyond hope. Her blood on his hands confirmed his worst fears. The damage to his mind was irreparable. He was too far gone to be saved.

He’d been a slave for longer than he could remember, but some things you never forget. A Thrarian’s only purpose in life was to protect hisSvarian, his roínseah. A male’s only honor was to ensure she never came to harm, to feed her, care for her, protect her with his life, should needs be.

He was left with only two choices now. He could either kill himself to make amends and regain even a shred of his honor, or he could resign himself to a lifetime of punishment and take on the mantle ofVrasai.

Vrasai were males who’d shamed themselves beyond forgiveness. They were outcasts whose lives were forfeit. They spend the remainder of their days guarding their roínseah from afar, never to bathe in her Light again, forced to watch as she took another.

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