by Nora Ash
Kain straightened by her side, the subtle hint of power in his aura growing stronger. “Good. Then call the meeting—we have a war to prepare for.”
* * *
As Selma followed the demons through the wide hallways and listened to their deep voices discussing the politics of the coup, the magnitude of the entire thing finally set in. It wasn’t that she hadn’t understood how much trouble had been caused by the Prince’s kidnapping and her powers awakening—and every event since then. However, the understanding that the demon who had saved her from his own kind time and time again was about to overthrow the entire structure of the demons’ society in an effort to keep her safe hadn’t fully dawned until now. A fresh wave of terror made her gut clench.
Kain stopped next to her, his hand in hers making her follow suit.
“We will be with you in a minute,” he called to the others, who had paused as he did.
Obediently they continued, disappearing out of sight around a corner soon after.
Kain turned to her, letting his free hand cup her cheek. “My love, there is nothing to fear. I promise.”
The softness in his eyes was contrasted by the firm conviction in his voice, and she felt herself lean in towards him, like a flower reaching towards the sun. She needed him, with every part of her body and soul.
“I just want to live in peace, you, me and our baby. And I want a white picket fence and a porch swing, and Sundays spent in the garden. But instead, we’re preparing for war. How can you say that there’s nothing to fear? If I lose you ….” Just the thought made her throat close up.
His mouth pulled into a wry smile. “So that’s what you wanted, instead of my casino apartment? A white picket fence and little demon kids running around, setting fire to the begonias?”
Selma blushed at his teasing and smacked his chest with her free palm. “Now is not the time to mock my dreams!”
Kain grinned at her reaction, but instead of continuing his teasing he bent his head and pecked her lips softly. When he straightened up again she was breathing shallowly, and something lower down murmured about forgetting war plans and worries and focusing on more interesting things instead. Such as the thick cock she knew rested between his powerful thighs.
Her mate chuckled when her gaze drifted downward and propped her chin up with a finger. “I can promise you that there is nothing to fear, because as turbulent as the next few months will be, I will not allow anything to happen to you or our little one. Furthermore, no power in this world will stop me from being by your side—not now, not ever. And once we take over control of America there won’t be a male demon on this continent that wouldn’t lay their life down for you. That is my pledge to you, Selma. I will love you for an eternity, and you and every child you bear will be safe and happy.”
There was nothing more to say—nothing more he could say. In his eyes she saw the truth of his promise, and in his face the strength he needed to keep his word.
Selma raised up on her toes so she could wrap her arms around his thick neck. Without a word she kissed the man who had finally set her free from a lifetime of fear. All that mattered was his love, because in that she had found her own power along with the knowledge that even in the darkest of nights she would never again be alone.
* * *
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Into The Darkness
In the Mood for More Steaming hot Romance? You’ll love Nora’s new series ‘Darkness’!
Into the Darkness
Summary
“I want all of you, and every last drop of your pleasure.”
When cultural blogger Kathryn Smith writes about her meeting with St. Anthony’s favorite hero, Lightning, she has no idea what kind of trouble her keen observations and sharp tongue will land her in.
The disturbingly handsome, and decidedly shady, hero is not the only one who takes offense to her critical writings, and before she knows it, Kathryn is wrapped up in the seedy underbelly of America’s most crime infested city.
And in the shadows lurks a greater darkness, whose eyes are set on conquering the woman his sworn enemy has taken an interest in.
First part of the paranormal romantic suspense serial ‘Darkness’.
Features two uncompromising bad boys and their very steamy romancing of one lucky, voluptuous lady.
* * *
Excerpt
I was halfway through Paranormal Activity 3, for the umpteenth time wondering why the heck I never learned that watching horror flicks while alone in my dark loft studio was a bad idea, when I first realized that something was wrong.
At first, I thought the creeping along my skin was simply my body reacting to the terrifying scenes unfolding on my TV. But when the sensation turned into an intense feeling of discomfort, like a prickling at the back of my neck, I finally recognized it for what it was.
Someone was watching me.
My pulse quickened instantly as if my heart was trying to escape my chest, and a sickening feeling of dread nestled in my stomach. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I lived on the fourteenth floor, and I would have heard someone trying to get in through the bolted front door. I was all alone.
Yet the feeling of being watched persisted, intensifying with each of my shallow breaths.
I was not alone.
Despite my attempt at rationalization, I knew something was very, very wrong. While being remarkably average in almost all areas of life, the one thing that I did have going for me was strong instincts—and right now, they were screaming at me about predators in the shadows of my safe haven.
Slowly, I reached for the remote and turned off the TV. Only silence met me when I strained for any signs of life to back up my sense of foreboding.
“Hello?”
I don’t know why I called out into the silent room. I’d certainly watched enough horror movies to know that that never ended well. And what did I expect, really? A potential burglar-slash-murderer to answer me?
“Hello to you, little Kittykat,” a smooth, dark voice answered from somewhere over by the kitchen.
I squeaked and scrambled off the couch, holding the remote out in front of my like a weapon as I stared wildly into the shadows. “W-who are you?”
The intruder stepped out into the soft light emanating from the only lamp I had left on in the entire apartment. He was tall and strong, the muscles in his torso and arms clearly outlined through the crimson and charcoal suit he wore. His full lips were pulled into a smirk, and behind the mask covering the upper half of his face, blue eyes shone eerily.
Lightning.
He strolled over to my computer, letting his gloved fingers dance across the desk as he took in his surroundings. Like he had all the right in the world to be in my home.
“What are you doing here?” I finally managed to say. Though my heart rate was slowing, my brain struggled with the idea of the city’s favorite hero suddenly appearing in my apartment. My disillusionment with his noble character aside, I was fairly certain he wasn’t here to murder me, but I still couldn’t wrap my mind around why Lightning was here, in my home.
“You wrote an interesting article,” he said, finally taking his eyes off my belongings to lock them on mine. The sensation of suddenly being rooted to the spot was unnerving, to say the least. I felt that disturbing tingle down my spine again, as if some primitive part of my body recognized his looming power. I got the errant thought that, if he wanted to, he could hurt me, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him.
My heart sped up again, and I had to bite my lip hard to stop it from trembling.
“You didn’t like it?” My voice sounded hoarse to my own ears, roughened by the fear I was struggling to keep at bay. He was one
of the good guys, despite his arrogance. He didn’t go around murdering innocents and corrupting the governing powers, like some of the superhumans did. Yet he had broken into my home—the one place in this city I should be safe. And I had written less than stellar things about him.
“Well, it didn’t cast me in the best light,” he said, the smirk slipping back into place. It looked like it belonged there, quirking his soft mouth into an expression of amused arrogance. “But you did have some interesting points, and I couldn’t help but wonder where you got those ideas about the mayor and us supes from?”
I blinked, more confused than ever. “You mean… the part about Mayor Wilkins relying on vigilantes to keep the streets safe while corruption spreads in all areas of the city?”
“Yes, that part.” Lightning narrowed his eyes. The smirk slid off his face, leaving a thin, grim line in its place. “I need you to give me your source, and I need it now.”
“I-I don’t have any sources.” I didn’t like the change in his demeanor. The unnerving reality of his presence in my dark apartment grew to a suffocating pressure against my frayed nerves as the power behind his gaze seemed to rush to the surface. “I just wrote the article after you…” I managed to stop myself before I added “turned out to be a jerk.”
Lightning cocked his head, and then he walked as smoothly as a stalking panther from the desk across the open floor until he stood right in front of me. I did my best not to flinch away, but I couldn’t help breathing harder as I tilted my head back to keep my eyes on him. Despite my previous assurance to myself that he was one of the good guys, being this close to his towering frame made keeping my nerves in check more than a little difficult.
“Are you telling me that you wrote an article practically accusing the mayor of corruption on a whim?”
“Um…” I hadn’t fully formed that thought in my mind while writing the piece. I’d just pointed out some possible loopholes with the way things were run in St. Anthony, but it wasn’t that far of a leap to make. And then it dawned on me. If Lightning was here, asking questions about my sources… My eyes widened.
“Oh, my God! He is corrupt! Isn’t he?”
Annoyance filtered across the superhuman’s features, but he remained silent as he studied me.
“Is that why you’re here?” I asked. “To shut me up?” Was he working for the mayor? My mind was suddenly alight with conspiracy theories any of the crazy bloggers bemoaning the existence of superhumans would have been proud of. But that was just it—there were plenty of crazies out there, telling the world that the mayor was corrupt and that even the supposedly good “supes,” as Lightning referred to his kind, were dangerous. Why did I get a visit from the friendly, neighborhood hero?
Lightning scoffed, but didn’t move his unnerving gaze from mine. “If you were smart, you would stay clear of antagonizing the mayor and the supe community, little girl. But if you insist, I’m not gonna stop you.”
I gaped up at him. “Then why are you here? And if it’s so dangerous to antagonize you and the mayor, then why is The Truth still allowed to publish all his ramblings?”
Lightning rolled his eyes and finally looked away, toward my dark computer screen. “I thought you were a serious reporter? You’d think you would know the answers to those questions. I’m here because I thought you had access to information that I need, not just random speculations. And The Truth,” his gloved fingers actually did air quotes as he named the city’s most laughed-at news blog, “never hits close to home, so it’s not a threat. You, my sweet one—you did. And you are undoubtedly going to regret it.”
Fear started creeping up my spine again, but this time it was not for the masked intruder. “You mean…?”
He shrugged. “It’s unlikely I’m the only one who assumed you actually knew what you were writing about.”
About a million different images of what that meant crowded my mind. My stomach clenched as I imagined my own mutilated corpse being fished out of the river. If Lightning was right, and some of the more unscrupulous of the superhumans decided I was a problem…
“What am I going to do?” I stared up at the masked man, completely forgetting that he wasn’t necessarily the uncompromising hero everyone thought he was. “Please, you have to help me!”
Lightning pursed his lips. His eerie eyes had a distinctly sardonic slant. “Oh, I do, do I? I thought I was ‘a symptom of everything that’s rotten and diseased in the Dark City,’ not ‘the masked hero the people of St. Anthony rely on when their elected officials fail them.’ ”
Hot anger mixed with my panic. Was he really mocking me?
“I’m glad my prospective death amuses you!” I hissed, giving him my best glare. “You’re even more of a scumbag than I thought.” Okay, so perhaps antagonizing the unnaturally strong man who’d broken into my home wasn’t the smartest choice. I grimaced and stroked a hand across my face to calm myself. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Have a big mouth and an unfortunate temper?” he interrupted. He grinned, but behind the blue light of his eyes lay something slightly sinister. “Maybe you could show me what else that wicked little tongue of yours is good at.”
* * *