Page 53 of Taming Chaos

Shit.

The area at the end of the corridor was shrouded in shadow, and as Torin slipped into the darkness, becoming nothing more than a shadow himself, Seph realized for the first time how much he belonged there.

Born on a planet devoid of light.

Goosebumps rippled over her arms. The endless infotext briefings she’d pored over had never described the otherworldly nature of these Kordolians.

“Damn it, Torin,” she whispered. This giddy, breathless feeling; wasn’t it the sort of thing that only happened in stupid romance novels?

As she stared after him, her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Suddenly, the shadows made sense, and Seph gasped. Fallen bodies stretched out before her. Perfectly still, with limbs askew, obsidian blood forming abstract pools around them, the sight chilled her to the bone.

Kordolians.

“Th-the guards,” Parrus stuttered, his tail snapping back and forth like a pennant in a wild storm. “He’s killed Relahek’s guards.”

“I didn’t kill all of them,” Torin said softly, re-appearing from the shadows.

“Yeek!” Parrus yelped in alarm, jumping three feet into the air.

Seph couldn’t help her sharp intake of breath. The man was like a goddamn phantom. “Have a little consideration for we clumsy mortals,” she grumbled. The whole thing with the darkness, the violence, the bodies, the Bartharrans outside… no wonder she was on edge.

“Sorry.” Torin’s brow creased into a look of genuine contrition. From deadly and graceful to awkward in the blink of an eye…

It was so freaking endearing.

“The way is clear. Let’s go.” He put his hand on the small of her back to guide her.

Boom! Every time he touched her, that thing happened. A delicious sizzle of electricity down her spine. Heat spread through her chest, her belly, between her thighs. Words deserted her. Rational thought deserted her. Good sense and any sort of decent survival instinct deserted her.

Shit. I can’t believe this is happening!

Seph’s past was littered with the burning wrecks of stormy relationships. The scars were all hers; she chose Bad Men and rode the trail to destruction with her eyes wide open, knowing exactly what she was in for.

Why?

Because she was an idiot with poor impulse control. Because she was fatally attracted to hard edges and extremes.

Because in her sister’s words: “you’re always trying to fucking prove yourself, Seph. You think you can get them to change? Stop it. You’re always the one who ends up getting hurt, and I’m the one who has to deal with the aftermath.”

But this time, her attraction went harder, deeper, pulling at her with all the might and fury of a fierce ocean undertow.

Torin was nothing like the men from her past.

He wasn’t a Bad Man.

Dangerous, yes. Scary, yes. But not bad. She was old enough to tell the difference by now.

Torin continued to guide her as they walked, his touch feeling good, steady, protective. He deftly led them away from the pile of bodies, and the narrow corridor gave way to an expansive room.

Their footsteps—well, hers and Parrus’s—echoed off polished metal floors. Despite the darkness, she could see perfectly well, thanks to the warm pink light surrounded them. She glanced at Parrus. The stripes across the Veronian’s face and arms emitted a bright glow, suffusing their surroundings with a rosy shade of pink.

Torin followed the direction of her gaze. “He’s happy,” he murmured, absently tracing the spot right between her sacral dimples with the pad of his thumb.

Such a tiny gesture, and yet it made her so weak at the knees.

“Happy?” She tried to distract herself by focusing on Parrus and his strange markings. The light he emitted was just enough for her to see by. “Are you happy, Parrus?”

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