This time, she wanted to be in control.
He would surrender to her.
CHAPTER 13
Nevar woke alone in the small hut and unleashed a string of the foulest curses available in the demonic tongue, all of them directed at himself, a berating he deserved for what he had done.
Kissing Lysia had been bad enough, but taking her virginity cast him right down there with the Devil in the despicable and evil stakes.
He should have stopped before, when she had been kissing him and he’d had a passing glimmer of suspicion. It had easily fled him, driven out by the need he had felt for her, a powerful urge to lose himself in her and just forget the world and their positions in it. He had wanted to devour her and all that was good in her, everything that was pure and beautiful, and somehow take it into him. He had needed her with an urgency and desperation he had never felt before, not even when he had been in the deepest throes of his addiction to Euphoria.
He cursed himself again for good measure when he thought about that time in his life and the horrendous things he had done. He raised his black clawed hands above him and stared at them. Hands that had groped countless nameless demon bitches and had killed them after they had given him his high and his release.
Hands he had dared to lay on beautiful Lysia.
These tainted hands didn’t belong anywhere near her and he should have been aware of that last night. He should have stopped himself from kissing her, let alone what had come afterwards. He hadn’t only placed his filthy hands on her, but he had been all too eager to get inside her and spoil her that way too. He hadn’t only taken her virginity from her, something that he didn’t deserve, but he had fouled her with his touch and his cock.
He growled and covered his eyes with his hands, digging the heels in deep as he pressed his claws into his scalp.
What had he done?
He had been so drugged by the thought of being with her, by the taste of her sweet kiss, that he hadn’t been thinking clearly but he no longer had that problem or that excuse. Hindsight was a bitch.
He couldn’t deny that he wanted her, craved her with an intensity that startled him at times and made him feel weak, aching for her smile or an innocent touch, or that his feelings for her had changed, growing stronger.
He couldn’t even really get himself to regret what he had done, because it had been incredible and he had found the purest source of an addictive new high, and the name of his drug was Lysia.
But he could admit that it had been wrong of him on more levels than he could count and that he wasn’t sure how to face her or what to say when he saw her.
He placed his hand over the mark on his bare chest and focused on it.
A trickle of fear ran through him.
He was on his feet and out of the door of the hut in a heartbeat, his gaze scouring the island for her as he called a pair of loose black cargo shorts and covered himself. The second the blazing sun touched him, he hissed and recoiled back into the shade of the towering palms. His eyes watered from the brief assault and he rubbed them, waiting for them to stop stinging while he cursed the sun.
Lysia’s voice drifted across the hot white sand to him and he frowned as he listened to her stumbling along in English interspersed with her own language. Her fear stemmed not from the reappearance of angels as he had expected, but from her attempting to communicate with someone in their language.
He gave his eyes one last rub and then looked for her, finding her standing a short distance away near the blackened fire pit with Erin.
Nevar gaped at the sight of her.
She had cut away the lower half of her silver halter-top, turning it into a sort of bikini top and revealing her midriff, and had cut her black jeans into a small pair of shorts that made him want to growl in appreciation of her long toned legs while snarling at any male who was in the vicinity.
Thankfully, there was only Erin and Dante, and the boy wasn’t old enough to care about any woman other than his mother.
Erin waved a pair of scissors around in one hand and cradled Dante in her other arm. “Now you’re equipped for island life.”
Lysia nodded and then looked at Dante, a flicker of fear in her eyes. She frowned, opened and closed her mouth a few times, and her gaze darted to Erin.
“Baby,” Erin offered. “Bay-bee.”
Lysia took a deep breath. “Bay-bee.”
Erin nodded.
Lysia drew a few more deep breaths and Nevar found himself fixated on her breasts and struggling to get his eyes off them. She caught his attention by speaking again.
“Your bay-bee is bee-you-tee-full.”
Erin grinned and bounced Dante in her arm. The little boy frowned, yawned and opened his eyes, squinting up at Lysia.
“He has his daddy’s good looks,” Erin said.
Lysia bent over and offered her finger to the infant, and her hazel eyes shot wide when he took it, curling tiny fingers around it and holding it. He drew it down to him and pulled it into his mouth. Erin laughed. Lysia looked as if she wasn’t sure what to do.
Nevar found himself relaxing as he watched her interacting with Erin and the boy. Erin pointed out more things on the island, slowly naming them so Lysia could hear the words, and Nevar was grateful to her for being so understanding and accepting of Lysia, and was glad that Lysia felt more comfortable around her now.
If there was anyone on this island capable of protecting Lysia against any foe, it was Erin. Lysia would need her in the fight that he felt sure lay ahead of them.
He leaned against the hut and folded his arms across his bare chest, lurking in the shadows and able to watch Erin without feeling guilt or remorse when she was unaware of him. No matter what happened or how long he went without seeing her, he still felt a pull to protect her, and today he was feeling strong enough to admit to himself that it was because there was a part of him that desired to be the angel he had been when that duty had been his.
He wanted to go back to that life, but didn’t at the same time.
He didn’t want Heaven to tamper with his head or go back to a point when he had been unaware of the things they did to their angels. He now understood what had driven Veiron to war with both realms. He wanted what the Hell’s angel had back when they had first met—he wanted to be free and able to live his life.
How long would he have though?
His steady gaze studied Lysia as she stumbled her way through naming things on the island in English, her finger still grasped in Dante’s tiny fist.
How long would they have?
Lysander would return. The angel wouldn’t stay away. Nevar was certain of that. Heaven would send the bastard and his band of angels back down to complete their mission to take her into custody and Nevar was going to be ready for them.
He would find a way to keep Lysia safe.
She looked over at him and smiled, and it struck him hard in his chest, making his heart kick. She appeared so normal today with her wings gone, and so much more beautiful with her black hair tied in a messy twisted knot at the back of her head and her hazel eyes bright and shining with warmth.
Or perhaps it had been last night that had put that sparkle in her smile and that rosy hue on her cheeks.
He could easily fool himself into believing that it was responsible for the light glowing inside her today—a light that brought out his own smile in response and chased away the dark clouds that often filled his mind.
She was stronger today too and he knew it was because he had allowed her to feed from him. Hell, he had practically begged her, even though he had vowed to himself that she wouldn’t touch his blood. He hadn’t really been thinking last night at all. He had been feeling. That was all. Thinking had gone completely out of the window and his feelings had driven his actions, and had come close to driving him into biting her too. He knew she had wanted it, just as he had craved the feel of her fangs in his throat.
Part of him was glad that she hadn’t asked, hadn’t pleaded him i
n that way he couldn’t resist, when every fibre and instinct would respond by demanding he give her whatever she desired.
His fangs itched, threatening to descend if he kept on this topic, quietly imagining just how incredible it would have been if he had gone through with it and had bitten her.
How many women had he bitten in the throes of passion when he was hunting for a fix?
He closed his eyes, shutting her out. Too many. Lysia deserved better than that. She deserved better than him.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to actually believe that. It was beginning to seem as if it was something he felt he should feel but no longer really felt it. She had told him that she had wanted him and that the feelings that existed between them, the deep attraction, was real.
She had told him so much more than that too.
She remembered her life and she had never been with a man, and he knew she’d had a master before him or possibly even more than one. He didn’t know how many times she had been awoken and then sent back to her dormant state. He placed his hand over the circular purple mark on his chest, crushing the voice of fear that still insisted this passion between them, the fierce need, was a product of their bond, and opened his eyes and looked across the dazzling white sand to her.
She was speaking to Erin again, her sweet lips permanently curled into an enchanting smile that made his heart beat a little quicker. She wasn’t only stronger today. She was happy.
Not only because Erin wasn’t pressing her for information, or the others were occupied in various tasks and not around her.
What they had shared had made her happy.
And since he was on a roll of admitting things, he was going to put it out there that it had made him happy too.
Erin glanced across at him and smiled.
Nevar averted his gaze to his boots.
She sighed and said to Lysia, “I wish we could get along but he has such a problem with me.”
He wanted to refute that and explain that he didn’t have a problem with her. He had a problem with himself. He huffed and walked away, leaving Lysia to her lesson with Erin. He trailed around the fringe of the palm forest in the centre of the island, sticking to the shadows.
Amelia and Marcus were off fishing from the spit of rocks that protected the far left hand side of the curved bay, assisted by Einar and Veiron while Taylor lounged on a boulder and watched them. Apollyon and Serenity were in the water, her laughter ringing out at times as they played together and bringing a rare smile to her lover’s face.
Asmodeus and Liora were ahead of him on the white sand, near the other spur of rocks that curved around the bay from the right side, both of them dressed casually for the weather, with Asmodeus in a pair of black jeans shorts and Liora in a small black bikini top and tight black shorts. His master had been back to Hell while he had been asleep. Romulus and Remus, Asmodeus’s two pet hellhounds, bounded around them. Each almost as tall as Liora, the gigantic sleek black beasts resembled Great Danes on steroids. They were pure muscle and menace, their red eyes almost glowing as they played rough with each other, attempting to sink black fangs into the other’s nape.
Liora laughed as she watched them and Asmodeus gathered a log the length and thickness of his leg from the white sand. He spun on his heel and hurled it back along the beach, and the two hellhounds took off after it. Remus barked, the thunderous sound echoing across the island, and jostled for position with his brother, barging his shoulder against him.
It didn’t slow Romulus or deter him. He beat Remus to the stick and went to pick it up, but Remus grabbed the other end and began a tug of war.
Asmodeus curled his arm around Liora’s shoulders and tucked her against his bare chest. She laughed at the antics of the hellhounds and looked up into her lover’s eyes, her smile widening as she met his gaze.
Nevar envied them.
He hated admitting that one, but it slipped out of him before he could deny it.
He envied them as they smiled and laughed, and exchanged tender glances. He envied how easy they were around each other and how they would touch at times or rest close to each other as they were now, with Liora held in the shelter of Asmodeus’s protective embrace.
He tried to ignore them and move on unnoticed, but Liora spotted him and waved. She slipped out from under Asmodeus’s arms, caught his hand, and led him across the sand with her, towards Nevar.
As she drew closer, he noticed something different about her.
Something wrong with her.
There was darkness within her.
He turned a black glare on Asmodeus. “You have planted a seed of evil within her… I can feel it. How could you?”
How could he have done such a thing to Liora? She was light and good, and cared about Nevar, always seeking to help him and ensure he was well.
Her face flushed.
Asmodeus turned on him. “You speak lies. I have not harmed Liora. I would never.”
Nevar growled. “I can feel it within her. There is a seed of darkness.”
The gold in Asmodeus’s eyes swirled with crimson and his power rose, coming to press against Nevar.
His master snarled, flashing fangs. “Lies.”
Asmodeus shifted his deadly crimson glare to Liora.
“Confess that nothing is wrong with you,” he demanded and then the hardness left his expression and uncertainty flickered in his eyes. “Is there something wrong with you? Are you sick? You are sick aren’t you? I have done as he said…”
He turned on Nevar with a growl.
“Tell me what you feel… is there darkness within her? I swear I did not place it there. Did you place it there?”
Nevar bared his fangs. “I would never harm her. There is darkness within her and you placed it there.”
Asmodeus’s strength faltered and Nevar saw the panic as it flooded him, felt the fear swamping his power and washing over him.
“No. I feel no evil in her. You lie,” Asmodeus snapped and shadows curled from his fingers, twining around his hands and crawling up his arms. His eyes began to switch to violet and his horns grew from the sides of his head above his ears, his black hair fluttering back to reveal them. He turned imploring eyes on Liora. “Tell me it is not so… you are not sick… there is not a seed of evil within you.”
Nevar opened his mouth to say that there was.
Liora shot him a glare and stole his voice with nothing more than a wave of her hand, silencing him with her magic.
She took hold of Asmodeus’s black clawed hand and drew in a deep breath as her eyes searched his violet ones.
“You did plant a seed within me,” she whispered and shook her head when he went to speak. “But it isn’t evil.”
Nevar felt as confused as Asmodeus looked.
Liora lowered her hand, bringing Asmodeus’s down to her stomach, and pressed it there.
“It isn’t evil,” she whispered, her eyes holding Asmodeus’s, tears lining her lashes. “I know it in my soul.”
Nevar blinked as the meaning of her words sank in.
Asmodeus seemed to have more difficulty understanding her.
He stared blankly at their joined hands where they pressed against her bare stomach. “What are you saying?”
She smiled.
“I’m saying we’re going to have a baby.”
CHAPTER 14
Nevar couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing and it seemed neither could Asmodeus. The black-haired angel pressed his hand harder against Liora’s bare stomach and stared deep into her eyes, his own wide with disbelief and the shock that rippled through Nevar too.
“It isn’t possible,” Asmodeus said and searched her eyes.
“I assure you that it is.” Liora linked her fingers with Asmodeus’s as they began to transform back to their normal state, the inky shadows slipping from his skin. “It seems you have more of the Devil’s powers than you thought. Just as Erin got pregnant from Veiron when he’s sterile, I’m pregnant from you. Clearly,
you’re far from sterile.”
Asmodeus blinked. “We are having a baby?”
She smiled and her hazel eyes lit up as she nodded.
Asmodeus grinned down at her.
The sight of his master so happy brought Nevar’s darker urges rushing to the surface, unleashing every cruel and evil impulse he possessed.
His gaze slowly dropped to Liora’s stomach, boring into it, as if he could see through it to her unborn child if he looked hard enough.
Asmodeus’s unborn child.
A weakness.
His fangs began to drop and his claws extended at the thought of snuffing out that tiny life, striking a blow at Asmodeus in the most painful way imaginable.
Nevar recoiled as that thought hit him and he stumbled away from them, not stopping when Liora called after him. He couldn’t be around them, not when the hunger for vengeance that refused to die was riding him, filling his head with thoughts that were both tempting and terrifying.
He would never hurt Liora, not again. She had been kind to him and he could see how much this child meant to her, and to Asmodeus. He would never hurt either of them. The part of him that had craved such a thing was dead to him now and he felt sure that if he could only go long enough without succumbing to its wicked suggestions that he could purge it completely. He didn’t want to be that person anymore. He wanted to be a better man, and he would be.
He would be.
No matter how long it took him to claw himself out of the abyss and rid himself of his dark impulses, he would keep at it and keep fighting. He wouldn’t give up.
Nevar headed around the island, moving from palm to palm, using their rough trunks for support as he forced himself to move away from Asmodeus and Liora. Romulus and Remus trotted up to him with the stick and he shooed them away, not in the mood to play with them.
When he was around the opposite side of the island and alone at last, he stopped and stared out across the reef-enclosed shallow lagoon that stretched almost as far as he could see. The pale turquoise water sparkled at him in the strong sunlight, both tempting and mocking him. He wanted to walk into it and wash away his cares by floating on the surface for a while, staring into the endless blue above and letting his thoughts drift away on the gentle waves. He couldn’t. Not with the sun beating fiercely down on the island.
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