Embrace the Desire

by Spring Stevens

  Embrace the Desire

  Spring Stevens, author of Embrace the Fire

  Avon, Massachusetts

  This edition published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, Ohio 45242

  www.crimsonromance.com

  Copyright © 2014 by Spring Stevens.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-7974-1

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7974-5

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-7975-X

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7975-2

  Cover art © 123rf.com

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  More from This Author

  Also Available

  Chapter 1

  “Damn you!”

  Lying in a bed of white silk and fur, Payne jerked hard on the chains anchoring him to the bed. The crippling pain that he endured still lingered in his muscles and deep within his bones. “Damn you to fucking hell! I will never break.”

  He could survive pain; pain was something he was very accustomed to.

  But this?

  He was a Destroyer! He was a fighting, killing machine, damn it!

  And he was chained like a dog, a beast! Expected and commanded to be subservient!

  “Well, screw you!”

  Flat on his back, straining against the enchanted chains, and with nothing else to do, he gave in to the thoughts running through his mind. Gyth, Lord of the Heavens and master of the Destroyers, leaned more toward torture and control than simple persuasion. No doubt, that was reason enough for the god to have enlisted Payne into his little army of immortal warriors whose chief purpose was to defeat his bitter enemy Damon, Lord of the Underworld.

  Ironic really.

  A virulent laugh echoed around him. Gyth threw the Destroyers to the proverbial wolves, not caring who survived as long as the enemy did not. Yeah, the enemy—Gyth’s enemies.

  In reality, the Destroyers were just a tool, Gyth’s fighting force against the Underworld’s offspring, even though they had been led to believe that the sole reason for their existence was to protect the One Race, the descendants of the gods that lived on earth. Yeah, right. The age-old battle between the Heavens and the Underworld, or in truth, the battle between Gyth and Damon, which in turn had wrought the rise of the Destroyers, otherwise known as Gyth’s lapdogs.

  Damon! The Serpent Lord of the Underworld, a.k.a. dear old dad.

  The name ripped through Payne like shards of steel and ice. The day would come when that bastard would have to stand toe to toe with him and it was a day Payne would wait a hundred thousand lifetimes for. After he almost died when his mother-dearest and those foul-breathed witches practically flayed him alive just to make points with that scum, Damon, all he wanted to do was to cut everything of Damon’s out of his soul and have his revenge. Afterwards, he had been adopted by humans and had determined to hone his fighting skills. The only thing that kept him sane was his lust for revenge. So, when Gyth came to him and offered a means to that end, he didn’t refuse.

  Now, almost two thousand years later, the plan was still the same as ever. Damon would die by his hands.

  Burning rage festered in his black eyes. Every Destroyer had his reasons for accepting Gyth’s offer to become one of his lapdogs and Payne sure as hell had his.

  “Bastilla.”

  The name was a whisper on his tongue, an endless torment in his cold heart.

  Her image surfaced in his mind transporting him back to a time when he had loved—the only time in his existence he had known such a thing. The only time he thought he was loved in return. He had memorized every detail of her face—her long black silky hair, large dark innocent eyes, and the creamiest olive skin. She was perfection with a beauty that defied the natural world.

  She had been the only good thing in his entire world.

  Until Damon.

  Until he realized the truth.

  The soft rustle of silk brought Payne’s attention back to the predicament at hand. Gyth stood in front of the bed, his eerie topaz eyes clearly expressing his agitation. Like Payne really cared! After all, what could the bastard in white do to him that had not already been done countless times before?

  His sarcastic laugh brought fury to Gyth’s face. “Have you changed your mind Destroyer?”

  “No,” Payne grunted softly. He wouldn’t be so easily broken.

  “You’ll take the female known as Chanta Timbers through her Burning,” Gyth ordered with a haunting laugh. “She’ll need a strong Destroyer to assist her transformation to the One Race.”

  A female’s face, one he knew, appeared in Payne’s mind. Her skin was fair, her hair blonde, and her eyes the color of steel. His heart skipped a beat as her lips stretched into a blinding smile. She was light in the darkness, goodness personified. She was the exact opposite of Bastilla.

  “Two words, Gyth: screw and you.”

  Topaz eyes met Payne’s. “You’ll do as I command.”

  The order tugged at every ounce of Payne’s willpower.

  As a Destroyer, he had to follow Gyth’s commands, and never disobey, like a dog on a leash, trained and obedient. But Payne was ever the disobedient one, so why mess with success?

  With heavily dripping defiance, he replied, “I won’t take her through the Burning! I enlisted in this shit-fest against Damon for one purpose and only one, so screw you!”

  “Hmm, well so be it Payne.” Gyth’s eyes swirled, turned white. “You shall endure the tortures of The Algea once again until your mind has changed.”

  Chanta Timbers’ face appeared again in his mind, her large eyes full of excitement and wonder as she read from a book in her lap. She was beautiful, enchanting, and full of vitality. And he cursed under his breath. Her face had plagued his dreams for eight years. Shutting his black eyes and forcing her image from his mind, a growl ripped from his chest in anger.

  “Get out of my head!” Payne roared. “I won’t take her through the Burning!”

  With a flick of his wrist, a mammoth of a male god dressed in black leather appeared beside Gyth holding a set of manacles. “You summoned me my lord?”

  “What are we waiting for?” Payne laughed as his feet were manacled. “Can’t wait to see the bastards again!”

  The leather bound brainless slave of Akhos, the spirit of pain, grinned. Through his razor sharp yellow teeth, he gurgled. “The Algea await your return. They so enjoy the company your body and mind provide.”

  “I
want him completely broken this time, spare no mercy, spare no pain. He is to be completely obedient.” Gyth frowned as he looked down at Payne. “You’ll do as I command or you’ll suffer the consequences again and again. Learn from your mistakes Destroyer or I shall put you down myself.”

  “What’s stopping you?” Payne spit out. “Two thousand years and I have yet to face Damon as you swore I would! Hold up your end of the bargain and I’ll uphold mine!”

  “The bargain was set, the deal between you and me was written in stone. One day, after you have served your purpose in my war against the evil of the Underworld, you’ll have your heart’s desire.”

  “Two thousand years! How much longer do you expect me to wait?” Payne jerked on the chains again.

  Gyth paused, his pristine white robes swirling round his feet as his eyes swirled and glowed white. “Time will lead you to the path that you must walk. Your destiny is before you Payne, choose very carefully when you face the crossroads ahead.”

  A scream ripped through Payne’s soul as the enchanted chains dug into his flesh. His back arched, the pain twisting inside his muscles, winding a path to every nerve ending in his body.

  Refusing to break, he stared straight into Gyth’s eyes with venom dripping from his lips. “I only walk one path and it will lead me to vengeance!”

  • • •

  Payne reappeared suspended over a bed of wooden stakes. If he fell, he wouldn’t die. He would be in a lot of pain but he could handle that. A laugh escaped his lips. All this for a woman going through the Burning. It was ridiculous.

  Chanta’s face came to his thoughts again. She had one of those faces that you never forgot, and he hadn’t forgotten He didn’t have to rack his brain when it came to her. He remembered. Eight years ago, he met her. Gyth had ordered a new sanctuary to be built in Kentucky and Payne had been placed there as a precautionary measure to ensure none of Damon’s minions attacked. They hadn’t, and Payne had gotten really bored, really fast.

  He ran into her on a clear night. She was sitting under a green apple tree staring at the stars. As the memory resurfaced, the details of that night were crystal clear.

  • • •

  Lexington, Kentucky—eight years ago

  Payne took his nightly walk around the sanctuary and paused as he looked across the rolling hillside. Alone under a tree, a woman was sitting, staring into the stars. She was out of the protective shroud Gyth had placed around the sanctuary.

  Wondering if she was a member of the One Race, he made his way to her. First, something rumbled from deep inside of him that sent goose bumps along his flesh. Second, every feral instinct he had sprang to life. And before he came to his senses, one word bounced around his thoughts: Mine.

  To announce his arrival, he stepped on a dead branch. She jumped to her feet, her face a mixture of surprise and fear. It wasn’t the reaction he had hoped for, but it was for the best.

  “Who are you?” She stepped back looking around. “No one is supposed to be out here this time of night.”

  He nodded, gave her a look he surmised would make her shake in her—-he looked down—bare feet. “Are you from the sanctuary?”

  Her mistrust pierced him for reasons he didn’t understand. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  She was wearing red and pink plaid pajamas, barefoot, and her blonde hair was braided. And she was pretty, too pretty to be on the outskirts of the shroud. She would make an easy target, an easy kill.

  “Payne.”

  “You’re the Destroyer Gyth has protecting us?” She attempted a half smile.

  “Yes.” He stepped closer, and could smell her lemon and honeysuckle scent. “Why are you out here? Gyth ordered everyone to stay on sanctuary grounds.”

  She looked up. “Watching the stars. And I’m not everyone. I play by my own rules.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Well, you just haul your star-gazing ass back to the sanctuary, okay?”

  She squared her shoulders, bracing her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t talk down to me. Get off your high horse and stop trying to order me around.”

  “I will repeat myself just one more time. Haul your ass back to the sanctuary.” Payne took two steps and looked down at her. He could see, too, that beneath the challenge in her grey eyes, there was an undercurrent of fear, and it unsettled him. “Or I’ll take you back myself.”

  “Excuse me?” She sputtered and stepped back. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I don’t take orders from you or from Gyth.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he grinned devilishly. “Over my shoulder or on your feet. Which way is it going to be?”

  She turned on her heel, took a few brisk steps, and then started to run. Instincts fired in his brain, commanding him to chase. She made it a few more feet before he scooped her up, twisted her, and threw her over his shoulder.

  “My way.” He laughed as her fists beat at his back. “Such a pretty little girl out here all by her lonesome. If Damon’s minions didn’t get you, any number of horrible creatures could have.”

  Again, the word “mine” screamed at him from every corner of his mind but he refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t have time for such silly notions or feelings. There was simply no place in his life for it. End of story.

  “Let me go, you over-sized fool!” She kicked hard and he swatted her backside. “How dare you?”

  “Oh, little lady, I dare.” She was light as a feather and much too thin. Despite her fight, he could feel her fear cascading down his shoulders. “As a member of the One Race, you know better than to let yourself be unprotected.”

  “Who’s going to protect me from you?” Her fingernails cut into his shoulder, her words cutting far deeper.

  “Ouch! That hurt!”

  She immediately relaxed her grip. “Sorry. But you brought it on yourself.”

  “Point taken.”

  “Look, I only work at the sanctuary, I’m not living there. Will you please put me down?”

  He shifted her and planted her feet on the ground in front of him. He stared her down. She didn’t shrink. Interesting.

  “No one can protect you from me.” He grabbed her wrists, pulled her to his chest. “You only work there?”

  “Yes,” She tried to arch her back away from him, but he only pulled her closer, taking a deep breath as he did. “You’re a member of the One Race. I can smell it on you.”

  Even though her entire body was shaking, she looked up defiantly with a snarl on her lips. “Get your hands off me! How dare you touch me. Gyth will hear about this.”

  The woman was infuriating, maddening. . . and sexy, especially when she was pissed. He hadn’t wanted to kiss a woman in a long time. Now seemed like a good time.

  Payne laughed and flashed a bitter smile. “Tell him I did this, too.”

  He backed her up to the black fence that ran around the sanctuary. Leaning in tight, he stared at her full pink lips. When her mouth opened to protest, he took advantage of the moment, pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It wasn’t right, for him to take this from her. He knew it.

  “Bastard!”

  Payne blinked, the stinging impact of her hand and her curse burning straight into his heart. “What makes you think for a second that I want your lips on mine?”

  Catching her hands, he stared into her eyes, a fighter’s eyes. She didn’t even quiver, just simply stared back at him, one eyebrow cocked slightly.

  “Well? Don’t you think you should let me go now that you’ve had your fun trying to scare me?”

  “I wasn’t trying.” He smiled devilishly as he easily manipulated her hands and brought her body flush to his leaning down to capture her lips.

  She struggled in this embrace.

  She was afraid; he could sense it, but she wasn’t about to let on. That aroused him; everything about her did—her smell, the way she tasted of honey and sweet wine. The damnable word “mine” started ping ponging inside
his brain, and he stopped dead in his tracks, his lips hovering a scant inch above hers.

  With a growl of disapproval he pointed at the sanctuary. “Get out of my sight. Don’t ever come out here again. Stay within the shroud.”

  She sank to her knees. Her emotions lighting up the air around him. “Oh God, you . . . you demon. How dare you! You had no right to touch me.” She touched her lips.

  “A kiss is the least of your worries.” And he meant it on every level possible. He didn’t understand what was going on inside his body but he knew without a doubt that this female, this woman, was the cause of it.

  Payne crouched on his hunches and looked her dead in the eyes. He was taken by surprise when she returned his look with that cocky little eyebrow raised again. Perplexed by her spunk, he let his eyes devour her. Instead of her shaking in fear, she blatantly copied his action.

  Whatever the attraction was that he was feeling, it had to be destroyed, annihilated. He didn’t need or want any weaknesses and even though his body was demanding hers, he had to let her go. He couldn’t afford to get absorbed into emotions he didn’t know how to deal with, he had a mission to fulfill and she wasn’t part of it. It was entirely too dangerous for someone like her, someone as good as she was, to get involved with the likes of him.

  Compelling her to watch, he let his eyes change. Allowing the “demon,” aka his Destroyer that lay under his skin to come out to play, he let his black irises expand devouring the white part of his eyes. Slowly, he let his double-edged fangs unsheathe, a gift from his father. As they slid down over his bottom lip, she scrambled backwards, her eyes wide with terror.

  “What are you?”

  His voice warped, twisted, a hissing sound hanging on every s. “Didn’t Gyth tell you why Destroyers are so good at killing? We’re all demons under our skin.” She rolled under the fence and was on her feet before he could count to three. He wanted to chase her, wanted to get her in his arms again, and wanted to kiss those lips. Without looking back, she ran to the sanctuary, ran from the demon that lurked under his skin. And he could only remain as he was, crouched low to the ground, fighting every instinct in his entire body.