Page 26 of Devil's Night

“These markings… they’re beautiful,” I murmured.

Sargon’s breath shuddered, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You need not decide now, little one. I have already asked too much of you by -”

“I want it.”

The words slipped out in a breathless rush before I could reconsider. Sargon went utterly still, those smoldering red eyes searching my face as if seeking any hint of doubt or hesitation.

He found none. Only a steadfast yearning, a fierce need to bind myself to this enigmatic alien who had so thoroughly claimed my heart.

With a low, rumbling growl, Sargon crushed his lips to mine in a desperate kiss. I melted into his embrace, parting my lips to deepen the contact as his hands roamed hungrily over my body. When we at last broke apart, I was dizzy and breathless, desire thrumming through my veins.

Sargon nuzzled along my jaw, blazing a path down the column of my throat. I arched into him with a ragged cry, every nerve ending thrumming in exquisite anticipation.

“Are you sure?” he rasped against my skin, the words a desperate plea scored with undisguised longing.

“Yes,” I managed, threading my fingers through his thick locks. “Sargon, please I’m yours.”

A savage growl tore from his throat as he captured my lips once more in a ferocious kiss. I returned it with equal fervor, reveling in the taste, the scent, the sheer overwhelming presence of him surrounding me.

Then, without warning, I felt a sharp prick against the side of my neck, swiftly followed by a molten rush of liquid fire filling my veins. A strangled cry tore from my lips, my back arching as the most intense euphoria I had ever known blazed through me with each hammering beat of my heart.

The world splintered and fractured around me. I was dimly aware of Sargon’s arms tightening like steel bands, cradling me against the tremors wracking through me. Just as swiftly as the pleasure had come, an insidious lassitude began to seep through my limbs. My eyelids grew impossibly heavy, and the last thing I knew before the darkness claimed me was the reverent press of his lips against my brow.

“Rest now, my mate,” his beloved voice murmured. “When you awaken, your new life will begin “

Some indeterminate time later, my eyes fluttered open to blinding brilliance. I recoiled with a sharp gasp, squeezing them shut once more against the onslaught of light and color so vibrant, so overwhelming, it was almost painful.

What was happening? Where was I? Panic clawed at my throat as my thoughts raced, struggling to remember

The picnic. The confession. Sargon’s words, his passionate kisses, the searing euphoria of his bite

Trembling, I forced my lids to crack open once more, blinking rapidly as my vision slowly adjusted to the sheer vividness of my new sight. I was in what appeared to be a sleeping cabin aboard a ship, the gunmetal gray walls and softly blinking panels all too familiar.

Sargon’s ship.

But everything was so crisp, so sharply defined, it was almost dizzying. I could see every subtle variation in the brushed metal texture, every shifting play of light and shadow with a vivid clarity I had never before experienced.

Sounds, too, were amplified to an almost uncomfortable degree. The low thrum of the engines reverberated through me, joined by the faint creak and groan of the bulkheads as we moved through wherever we were.

A slight shift of weight on the mattress beside me made me stiffen. There, in the periphery of my newly enhanced vision, sat a figure wreathed in shadow - tall, imposing, utterly motionless.

Sargon.

Slowly, I turned my head toward him, every subtle movement feeling oddly fluid and effortless in a way that should have been alarming, yet simply felt right. Natural.

He perched on the edge of the bunk, elbows braced on his knees as he studied me with those intense, blazing red eyes. His expression was utterly inscrutable, yet the weight of his starebored straight through me, sending a sensual frisson cascading down my body.

“Sargon,” I rasped, my voice sounding strange and resonant to my newly heightened senses.

In an instant, he was there before me, one hand cradling the back of my head as his thumb traced along my lower lip almost reverently. I shuddered at the contact, every point where his skin met mine crackling with a searing, electric heat.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice piercing the depths of my soul. “So fierce. So beautiful.”

I frowned, confused by the sheer awe in his tone, when the shifting of the mattress drew my attention downward. There, stark against the muted grays and blacks of the bedding, was the unmistakable blaze of vivid orange etched into the pale skin of my arm in intricate, swirling patterns.

The markings. The signs of our bonding.

I shot upright, my eyes wide as I took in the glowing, sinuous whorls adorning my flesh. They extended from my left shoulder, winding down in an intoxicating spiral before fading into a simple tracing of pigment along my fingers.

---