Page 80 of Seducing Hope (The Hope Legacy)

She’s a beautiful contradiction, loving those around her so fiercely, she would die for them. Yet, she has built a cage around her heart, not accepting their love back. She offers kindness and acceptance, but denies any offers of help and expects rejection. She is surrounded by people who care about and love her, and yet, I sense a deep loneliness.

A wild fire burns in her eyes, so fierce she could light up the pits of hell. I relive that devastating kiss from earlier. She is right—she doesn’t kiss half-heartedly. She gave me everything in that kiss. Raw emotions flooded my consciousness, as I tasted what it would be like to have her. It had floored me with its intensity and honesty. It undid me—sheundid me.

Rising, she stalks toward me, her stunning face flushed pink from the night air. She pushes between my legs and places her hands on the arms of my chair, caging me. My hands twitch with the urge to pull her onto my lap and push my growing erection against her core. I’m already addicted to the sweet little moans she made earlier. A strong, icy wind in the otherwise calm night lifts her hair. She brings her face close enough that our breath mixes, and I watch her eyes turn azure with desire. A strong pulse of power from her ripples across my skin, and my eyes widen in surprise.

She smiles and keeps her husky voice low. “I told you, I’m everything you can’t control. You underestimate me, Archan. Don’t try to get inside my head—it’s darker than you can handle. When I finally give myself to someone, they’ll look at me and accept my demons; they won’t try to master them. And I don’t scream for anyone. I will walk through the fires of hell and emerge from the ashes before I bow down to any man.” She grabs my hair and yanks my head back, pinning me with her fiery gaze.

“Instead, I will bring every man I meet to his fucking knees. I wasn’t born to be quiet and submissive. I was born to shatter the world with my fingertips and go to war for those I love. Continue to underestimate me, and I’ll show you what it’ll cost you.”

Small leaves encircle us, whipping faster, wrapping us in a mini twister. Grasping the nape of her neck, I close the distance and give her a brutal, bruising kiss. Instead of pulling away, she rivals my passion with an uncompromising wildness and hunger. My hands glide down the curves of her body. I grip her hips, ready to pull her onto me, when she breaks the kiss and gives me a triumphant smile.

“To his fucking knees,” her sultry voice whispers against my lips. I have to have this woman, possess her, make her mine. But now I’m afraid that once I have her, I might never let her go. She would be mine for eternity. Am I selfish to tear her away from her life, rip her chances of being loved in return away? Definitely, but I would worship her like no man can.

She draws herself up. Unearthly sapphire eyes hold mine as I stare up at her in awe.

Her gaze flicks over my shoulder, and she suddenly hisses in pain. My eyes scan her body as she reaches into her boot and pulls out a dagger. I freeze.

“Show yourself, you coward!” she calls over my head. I rise to my feet and stand in front of her, but she growls and steps to my side. Three shadows creep in the darkness on the dock. As she heads toward the steps, I put my hand on her arm and shake my head.

“Let them come to us. They will find it difficult to hide in the shadows on the boat.”

She nods, and we move to the entrance of the living quarters. Her breathing is calm, her heartbeat slow and regular. She would indeed go to war for those she loves. We cock our heads in the same direction at the same time, listening to the soft footsteps. I’m amazed she can hear the quiet noise. Most humans can’t drown out background noise to discern the subtleties of specific sounds. Two sets of footsteps approach us, one from the left and the other from the right. She points to the right and thumbs to the left. I stiffen with indecision; I don’t want to leave her to face an unknown threat. As if reading my thoughts, she rolls her eyes at me before slipping out to the right.

I step out as my attacker tries to ambush me from the side. The force of my kick has him sprawling backward.

I put my foot on his chest, lean down, and snap his neck with my hands.

A feminine grunt of pain from the other side of the boat has me moving fast. Natia straddles a demon as she slices through his neck, and he bleeds out in seconds. Her sweater is covered in blood. She pushes against his chest to stand and appraises me for injuries. I almost laugh—like anything could hurt me.

She’s strolling toward me when I sense a swell of power behind me. I continue to face her, not alerting my attacker to my knowledge of his presence. He lifts his weapon, aiming for my back. As he releases whatever is in his hands, I duck and swivel on my heel, ready to catch the weapon. But Natia leaps over my crouched form. Her dagger leaves her hand and sails over my head toward our foe. An explosion of power knocks me to my ass as she snaps a shield into place around us. I wrap my hands around her waist to pull her down just as she screams in agony. She thrashes for a brief moment then goes limp in my arms.

“Fuck,” I breathe. Khalkaroth disappears with her dagger in his hand and a smirk on his face. Cradling Natia, I teleport us both to my apartments, lay her on my bed, and mentally shout for Zac and Nathan. They appear within seconds, their faces etched with worry as they catch sight of my shirt soaked in blood.

I point at Natia. “It’s not mine, it’s hers.” They swing their gaze to Natia’s unconscious form, only noticing her now.

Zac lets loose a breath and runs a hand over his head. “Well… this could be a solution to one of our problems.”

His head bangs against the wall as my hand wraps around his throat. He pales.

“No harm will come to her. Do you understand?”

He nods, and I let him go. Materializing a blade, I cut her sweater, being careful around the knife lodged near her heart. Tiny black lines are spreading around the wound. I place my hand below the dagger and begin using my power to draw the poison away from her heart, and into me. Her sweat-soaked skin is burning hot, and the fever convulses her body as she writhes under my touch. She coughs, and blood trails out the corner of her mouth, down her neck. I pull harder at the poison, and she convulses again, violently. Nathan pulls my hand away, his gray eyes softening.

“It’s making her worse. Stop, while we think this through,” he urges. I tear my fingers through my hair.

“Who was it?” Zac asks.

“Khalkaroth.”

Nathan goes to touch her, and I grab his arm. “Touch her, and you will lose your hands.”

He freezes, his eyes widening. “I need to examine her to see if I can determine what she’s poisoned with.” Slowly, I release his arm and nod.

“Can you undress her?” Nathan asks. I slice through her skirt, and Zac removes her boots, leaving her almost naked. Her normally bronzed skin has turned pale and sallow. There is a tiny barb sticking out of her thigh with similar black tendrils spiraling from the wound.

Nathan points to it. “See what you can do with that.” I yank out the spike and put my hand over the cut to pull the poison into me; it comes easier, and her body relaxes. I remove my hand—her thigh is clear of the poison. I groan as a lancing pain tears through my body, and my heart misses a few beats before I expel the poison on a breath of charcoal-coated air.

“No,” I whisper, coughing.

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