Page 82 of The Dark Rising
“You did, didn’t you?” His tone has dropped now. He licks his lips. “How did you do it?” He asks, taking another step closer.
“I didn’t-”
“When did you do it?” Another step. “Did you make him bleed?” The air turns heavy as desire pours off of him.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Tell me. I’m not angry. Far from it.” His eyes flicker black.
I take a breath. “I found him drunk,” I whisper. “I followed him and slit his throat.”
“Fuck,” he whispers, lowing his hand to adjust himself. My eyes track the movement. “Do you know how fucking hard I am for you right now?” I shake my head, eyes glued to his obvious erection. “You being murderous always turns me on. It’s the way your eyes shine, so full of rage and hate.”
“They were full of rage for him,” I admit. “For what he was a part of. I will take every last one of them out.”
He takes a deep breath. “If you don’t want me to take those shorts off and fuck you, little wolf, I would stop mentioning it now.” I swallow the moan that rises, even as heat pools in my stomach.
“This is fucked up,” I tell him.
“Nothing is fucked up when it comes to you.” I inhale shakily and clear my throat. It would be so easy for me to offer what he wants, I have no doubt he would jump at it. I squeeze my thighs together.
“So now you know I can take a Higher down,” I say, steering the conversation to safer waters.
“You caught him unaware, Rhea. It won’t always be like that. Their power is above the norm, especially Charles. You can sense it on him, I know you can.”
Of course I can, but I thought that was normal. Most Highers are usually wolves with witch’s blood in them. But Charles is different. “What is he?” I ask.
“Powerful, more so than he should be.” Darius slams into me unexpectedly, holding my throat in his hand and pinning me to the barrier.
I push a hand into his chest, my power rushing into him and he growls. “Stop fucking fighting.” I can’t, it’s all I’ve known. “Trust me.”
That’s laughable.
My fingers dig into his chest as my hair rises around me. My eyes begin to change, I can feel it happen, and Runa whines inside of me. Blue strands come through the ground at my feet and rise above us, surrounding us as they move violently. My powers shoot out around the barrier, pinging around it as I try to escape. Darius brings the darkness closer to us, tighter.
“Get off me,” I demand, forcing more power into my palm at his chest. Trying to get every scrap of it to do my bidding.
“No,” he growls back, shadows covering his body, protecting him.
Blue and black collide around us, sparks and tendrils roaming wildly within the barrier he created. Shadows grab my wrists, holding them down on either side of me and I start to thrash in panic as hot pain enters me. I squeeze my eyes shut as a gritted scream comes from me, taking my breath away. Then lips touch mine.
Soft, but then more demanding, rough.
I whimper, opening to him to distract me. Letting his tongue dance with mine, I falter in my struggle, the pain receding to a dull ache as he devours my mouth. My body relaxes back against his barrier, those shadow hands now rubbing soothingly at my temples. A pitiful sound comes from me as my magic fizzles out, and Darius makes a noise at the back of his throat at the sound.
He nips my bottom lip, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against mine. “Trust me,” he whispers against me, and I open my eyes. Those silver flecks are back, and I’m unable to do anything but watch them float.
“I can’t,” I choke out, shaking my head against his. His eyes shutter, and he exhales roughly. Giving my jaw a small bite, he releases my throat and steps back. Light surrounds us again as he calls off his barrier and I stumble forward.
Darius catches me, lifting me as my markings begin to fade, my eyes heavy as I rest my head on his shoulder. He holds me close with an arm under my legs and an arm around my back as he makes his way over to a willow tree. I try to struggle, to get him to let me down, but my body feels like stone. He sits down, being gentle with me, and he gets me comfortable in his lap. My head feels fuzzy, and I couldn’t even move if I wanted to. But his scent around me wraps me up in a delusional sense of safety, in a fake attempt at comfort. I’m too weak to reject it as I burrow my face in the side of his neck. His palm comes to the back of my head, gently massaging there and making a small, satisfied moan come from my lips at the feel of it.
He chuckles against the top of my head and rests his free hand on my thigh. “Rest, little wolf, I’ll keep you safe.” He keeps saying that.
I try to snort, but I don’t think even a small sound escapes me as my body goes limp and I fall asleep in the arms of my own personal enemy.
Thirty
Rhea
