Page 22 of Yearning For Her

With a snarl, Kian tore his mouth away from the woman’s and stood, shoving her off his lap. His hip bumped the table, rattling the glasses atop it. She fell to the floor with a startled gasp.

He’d dismissed countless sexual partners through the years, but not before they’d been satisfied. Not before he’d taken what he needed from them. It had all changed after his night with Willow. Before her, he’d never felt this sickness when attempting to feed. Before her, his skin had never crawled at the thought of someone touching him.

His hair hung in his face. He swept it back with a quick, harsh gesture, turned, and stalked away. The woman called to him, but Kian ignored her.

The desire and lust radiating from the crowd as he hurried toward the door was intolerable. It was like a chorus of demons torturing him with their hellish song, dangling food just out of his reach as he starved to death.

His gut churned and clenched. Bitter fire roiled within him, possessing an acidic sting. The combination of the cold void and the scorching flames was too much to handle.

All the grace and ease with which he normally moved amongst mortals vanished. He pushed and shouldered people aside, battling for every inch of progress, and offered no apologies. They were meant to be his prey, each and every one of them, but now they’d become only sources of torment.

“Hey.” A human stepped in front of Kian, planting a hand on his chest. He was about as tall as Kian, but carried at least fifty pounds more muscle, most of which seemed to be concentrated in his arms, shoulders, and chest. His black shirt had a single word printed on it. Security.

“Out of my way,” Kian growled, pushing forward.

The bouncer shook his head and braced his feet, halting Kian’s advance. “You the one that threw a woman onto the floor? We need to have a chat.”

“Not in the fucking mood.”

“I wasn’t asking.” The man grasped Kian’s coat.

Kian curled his hands into fists and gritted his teeth. He wasn’t an aggressive being by nature, but being provoked, especially now… These humans didn’t know what strength was. They didn’t understand just how outclassed they were.

He clamped his hand on the bouncer’s wrist. “Neither was I.”

A tingle raced up Kian’s spine. The sensation blossomed at the base of his skull, triggering every sense these mortals didn’t possess.

Magic. Powerful magic. And it was close.

How had he missed it before now?

His brow furrowed, and his eyes darted from side to side, searching for the source of that power—another fae.

Another incubus.

A hand settled on the big human’s shoulder. One of its long, strong fingers was adorned with a thick gold ring.

“Just a misunderstanding, I’m sure,” said the newcomer, his voice deep, silky, laced with charm.

Kian’s muscles tensed; he recognized that voice, and though the magic wasn’t directed at him, he felt its potency. Even were he not in his weakened state, he doubted he could ever match it.

The human relaxed, eyebrows rising as he tilted his head. “Yeah. It was.”

“Good,” the newcomer said. “I’m sure you have other matters to attend.”

Nodding, the bouncer released his hold. As soon as Kian let go of his wrist, the man dropped his hand, turned, and wandered away.

The newcomer filled the vacated space. He was tall, with short, tousled black hair and the shadow of a beard complimenting his chiseled features. Angled eyebrows rested over his intense gray eyes.

He wore a gray modern suit, the same shade as his eyes, with a black button down beneath, but no tie. As he stood there and studied Kian, he seemed the epitome of effortless elegance and style. He reached forward with both hands and took gentle hold of Kian’s coat, straightening it.

“Barrow,” Kian grated, unease keeping his body taut.

“Barrow?” The fae laughed, eyes gleaming with dangerous mirth. “Haven’t used that name in a long time, Pale One. Lately it’s Lachlan, though you’re always welcome to call me your prince. What are you going by these days?”

There was no compulsion here. Lachlan hadn’t turned his charm toward Kian, but magic radiated from him like heat from a furnace.

“Kian.”

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