When Darkness Ends

by Alexandra Ivy

  The refusal captured the prince’s full attention. For a long moment he studied her pale face, something that might have been regret at last flaring through the cognac eyes.

  “Fallon—”

  “You heard her,” Cyn growled, moving to stand at Fallon’s side.

  “Stay out of this, vampire,” Magnus snapped, angling his body so he could keep an eye on both Cyn and the King of Vampires who joined them in the hallway.

  Cyn pulled back his lips to reveal his fangs. Not that he needed the lethal display. The icy flood of his power was already causing the floor to tremble beneath their feet.

  “You have your answer. Now leave,” he told the prince.

  Magnus held Fallon’s gaze, his expression unreadable. “You understand what this means?”

  She did.

  And it made her heart break.

  Perhaps sensing her pain, Cyn stepped toward Magnus, his hands clenching as if he was considering the pleasure of punching the intruder.

  “Time to leave, you pompous prick.”

  “I am happy to leave.” Magnus offered a mocking bow, his gaze never leaving Fallon’s pale face. “Your father will no doubt wish to speak to you once he learns of your reckless disregard for his position. If nothing else, he will need you at his side when he publicly shuns you.”

  Without warning, Styx had reached out to grab Magnus’s arm.

  “Sariel isn’t going to know about this,” he warned, his expression grim. “At least not yet.”

  Magnus gave a low hiss, his honey tinted skin glowing as he allowed his power to flow through his body.

  “This is not your concern.”

  “Tough,” Styx snarled, pointing a finger directly into the prince’s handsome face. “This is what’s going to happen. You’re taking me back to my lair and then you’re staying there with your mouth shut until the Oracles get their shit together and I can either kick you out or kill you.”

  Magnus narrowed his gaze, but shockingly he kept his power firmly leashed. He didn’t even fight against the vampire’s grip.

  Weird. Very weird.

  “You are not my king,” he muttered.

  “No, but I can promise you that Sariel won’t be pleased to discover you’ve made an enemy of the Commission,” Styx said. “Now let’s go.”

  “This will not be forgotten.” Magnus lifted his hand, but instead of sending a bolt of energy toward the Anasso as Fallon dreaded, he instead formed a portal and led Styx into the opening.

  “You owe me, amigo,” Styx warned Cyn before he abruptly disappeared with Magnus.

  Cyn remained silent as Fallon took an instinctive step toward the spot where her fiancé had just disappeared.

  Rage ripped through him.

  He wanted to yank her into his arms. To kiss her until her pale cheeks were flushed and he’d replaced the scent of the damned fairy prince with his own. Territorial? Hell, yes.

  Unfortunately he couldn’t risk touching her. Not when he continued to vibrate with the savage need to tear apart the male who had dared to try to take her away.

  Instead he was forced to watch her stand in the center of the hallway, her golden hair tumbled around her shoulders and her amber eyes wide with a distress that sliced through his heart.

  She looked like a lost waif.

  It was . . . unbearable.

  He stepped to stand close enough to feel her intoxicating heat wrap around him, easing the frigid fury that had nearly sent him over the edge.

  “Fallon?”

  “He’s playing his own game,” she said, her voice distracted.

  Cyn didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that.

  “Who’s playing a game?” he demanded.

  “My ex-fiancé.” She gave a slow shake of her head. “Styx is powerful, but Magnus possesses the magic of royals.”

  Belatedly Cyn recalled Roke telling him about Sariel’s ability to fry the Nebule demon to a gooey tar. He’d said that it’d destroyed everything in its path. He’d also admitted that it was a talent that his mate, Sally, had inherited.

  It’d never occurred to him that Fallon might have the same dangerous power.

  Bloody hell, he was lucky not to be a smudge on the floor.

  “The burst of light?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Her expression remained absent, as if she was pondering some deep thought. “It’s lethal to most demons.”

  “He’s not stupid.” Cyn shrugged. Magnus might have all sorts of fairy magic, but it wouldn’t protect him if he harmed Styx. “If he’d killed the Anasso there would be nowhere he could hide from us. We would destroy him.”

  She continued to study that empty spot where Magnus had disappeared. “Still, he could have used his magic to disable Styx long enough for him to escape. So why would he have let himself be forced back to the king’s lair?” The question wasn’t directed at him. Hell, he wasn’t sure she was even aware he was around. “And why didn’t he try to force me home? It was almost as if he was hoping I would break our engagement.”

  A rational part of him knew that Fallon was right to be concerned if her prick of an ex-fiancé was acting out of character. But he wasn’t in the mood to hear another word about the glorious, fucking golden prince.

  He’d been to the edge of death, and before he could fully recover, he’d been driven into a berserker frenzy. Who could blame him for being a little twitchy?

  “Is he a threat?” was the only thing he wanted to know.

  “No.”

  Satisfied, he crowded her against the wall, using his larger size to keep her trapped. “Then forget about him.”

  He heard her breath catch in her throat, her heart thundering, but her expression remained troubled.

  “Easy for you to say,” she muttered.

  His fingers tangled in her hair, his voice coming out as a rough growl. “You told me that you didn’t love him.”

  “I don’t.”

  Something dangerous eased in his chest as he allowed his fingers to lightly stroke through the satin strands.

  “Then why are you upset?”

  “I’m going to be shunned.”

  He grimaced. He didn’t know the ins and outs of fairy society—thank God—but he did know that any demon would be traumatized at being disowned by their people. Even vampires who could be solitary creatures instinctively created clans. It wasn’t just a need for protection, but a sense of belonging.

  To have that torn away because she felt it was her duty to use her skills to halt a looming genocide must feel like the worst sort of betrayal.

  Someday he intended to beat the shit out of Prince Magnus and King Sariel for daring to treat this exquisite creature with anything less than utter devotion. But for now he couldn’t deny that their stupidity played directly into his hands.

  “Does that mean you can’t return to your homeland?” he asked, his fingers sliding from her hair to outline the faintly pointed tip of her ear.

  She was such a fairy.

  Licking her lips, Fallon visibly struggled to concentrate even as the warm scent of champagne drenched the air.

  “I can return, but I will no longer be allowed to attend any social functions or to be seated with my family during meals. It will be . . . difficult.”

  His hand glided down to cup her jaw so he could tilt back her head.

  “Stay,” he said.

  She stilled, an unmistakable yearning darkening her wide eyes before she was hurriedly trying to disguise her vulnerable reaction. Her life among the Chatri had taught her not to reveal her deepest desires.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Why is it ridiculous?”

  “You’ve been trying to get rid of me since I—”

  He brought an end to her argument by the simple process of covering her mouth with his own.

  Bloody hell.

  She was right. He should be encouraging her to kiss and make up with her stupid fiancé so she could return to fairyland. She was in danger here.r />
  And if he was being brutally honest, he was doing a piss-poor job of protecting her.

  But the mere thought of her leaving . . .

  He shuddered, deepening the kiss as excitement exploded through him. Oh God, the taste of her. Honey. And sunshine. And pure female temptation.

  He groaned, dipping his tongue into the moist heat of her mouth. She was addictive. Like a drug that had entered his system and filled him with a need that threatened to overwhelm him.

  “Stay,” he whispered against her lips, his hands greedily exploring her long, slender curves.

  She shivered, her hands tentatively pressing against his chest. “How can I?”

  He nibbled at the edge of her lips, his hand slipping beneath the border of her lavender sweater. Instant arousal seared through him at the feel of her satin-smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

  “Will you die if you don’t return to your homeland?” he demanded, tracing her lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

  His elongated fangs throbbed with the need to sink deep into the tender flesh, but he was careful not to accidentally draw blood. There’s no way he would force a mating on her. Not after she’d nearly been manipulated into one by her bastard of a father.

  “No, but—”

  He stole her words with another kiss. Her family considered her nothing more than a pawn who could be sacrificed when she no longer served her purpose. They didn’t deserve her.

  “Then stay.”

  Cyn leaned back just far enough so he could pull the sweater over her head, his gut twisting at the sheer beauty of her.

  Fallon didn’t possess the lush body of most fey. No. His princess was all sleek lines and graceful curves. Like a pure-blooded racehorse.

  Perfect.

  “Stay where?” she husked, her nails digging into his chest as he allowed his fingers to skim up her narrow rib cage to cup her small breasts with reverent care. “I have no home, no family, no one who can help me.”

  Cyn struggled to concentrate. He knew it would be a difficult task to convince her that she belonged with him. Especially when she was still raw from her fiancé’s abandonment. But the hunger that had been growing from his first sight of this tempting female was thundering through him, making it almost impossible to think of anything beyond wrapping her impossibly long legs around his waist so he could sink himself into her tantalizing heat.

  “You have me,” he murmured.

  “You want me to become a part of your harem?”

  He yanked his head up to glare at her wary expression. Was she deliberately trying to piss him off?

  “Why the hell do you keep harping about my nonexistent harem?”

  “Why else would you ask me to stay?”

  Cyn swallowed his urge to laugh. He wasn’t about to tell her that he thought she might be his mate.

  In the past few days she’d been kidnapped from her homeland, commanded to spy on the Commission, forced to share a lair with a vampire, jilted by her fiancé, and potentially shunned.

  Now didn’t seem the best time to pile on the fact that he had no intention of ever letting her go.

  “We still have to save the world, remember?” he asked, his gaze drifting to the unsteady line of her lips.

  She tilted her head to the side, unconsciously offering the temptation of her exposed neck.

  “And that’s the only reason?”

  He pressed the heavy thrust of his arousal against her, groaning at the incandescent sensations that exploded through him.

  “Isn’t that enough for now?” he asked, his lips feathering kisses down the length of her throat.

  “No other women?” she stubbornly demanded.

  “Only you, princess.” He nuzzled the pulse that raced at the base of her throat, his fingers skimming down the flat plane of her stomach to unsnap her jeans. “Only you.”

  She shivered, her slender arms tentatively wrapping around his shoulders. Cyn growled in approval, dipping his head to lick a rose-tipped breast. She gasped with shocked pleasure, her fingers tunneling into his hair.

  “Will you stay?” He had to hear the words. He had to know that she wasn’t going to suddenly disappear on him.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Tugging the nipple between his lips, Cyn skimmed his hand down the length of her spine, lingering on the curve of her buttocks. His cock twitched at the sensation of her soft, feminine flesh beneath his hand. He wanted to feast on her. To spend the entire night exploring her from the top of her glorious curls to the tips of her tiny toes that she never remembered to cover with shoes.

  But not tonight, he conceded as he grabbed the bottom of his sweater and yanked it over his head.

  His hunger was a burning force that threatened to consume him. A slow, delectable exploration would have to wait until he’d dulled the edge of his lust.

  More than once.

  “Touch me,” he pleaded softly, unzipping her jeans and urging them down her legs until she could step out of them.

  She hesitated only a second before he felt the timid brush of her fingers down his back. He moaned, rocked by the raw pleasure at her shy caress. He did not know how it was possible that an untutored innocent could set him on fire, but there was no denying her power.

  With a groan, he branded her with a kiss of possessive demand, his muscles clenching as he gained access to the warmth of her mouth.

  Sweet honey. And sunshine.

  And innocence.

  Christ. A shudder raced through him. It should have terrified him. There was no way in hell he deserved such purity. Not with his jaded soul.

  But he’d discovered long ago to grasp happiness when it was offered.

  And that was exactly what he intended to do.

  Not giving her a chance to protest, Cyn had her swept off her feet and cradled against his chest. Leaving her clothes abandoned on the hallway floor, he entered her bedroom and kicked shut the door.

  He wasn’t going to risk being interrupted.

  Gently laying her on the wide mattress, Cyn wrestled off his heavy boots before he was shedding jeans. At last naked, he stood and simply savored the sight of his princess.

  She was . . . a work of priceless art.

  Hair like a cresting dawn spread around her ivory face. Her eyes an exotic amber with flecks of emerald that burned like green fire. And her slender body wearing nothing but the tiny thong looked so perfect, it might have been chiseled from marble by the hand of a master.

  Shivering beneath the intensity of his slow survey, Fallon licked her dry lips.

  “Cyn?”

  He perched a knee on the edge of the mattress, planting his hands on each side of her shoulders.

  This would be her last opportunity for second thoughts. Once he took her there would be no going back.

  For either of them.

  Almost as if sensing this last step had to be hers, Fallon lifted her hand to slide it over the tense muscles of his chest. Distantly he was aware of a chilled rain pelting against the stained-glass windows and the crackle of the wood burning in the fireplace, but his sole focus was on the woman who was spread like a pagan offering beneath him.

  Holding her burning gaze, Cyn smoothed his fingers up the inner flesh of her thigh, tugging her legs apart so he could catch a glimpse of her glistening clit. He growled deep in his throat, shaking his head as she lowered her hands to cover the evidence of her arousal.

  “Don’t hide from me, Fallon,” he murmured, swooping down to scatter soothing kisses over her face. “I need to know you want me.”

  “I . . .” Slowly her muscles eased, her hands returning to his chest as she met his searching gaze with a trust that sliced straight to his heart. “I do.”

  Something moved inside Cyn at the soft words. Something so large that he was certain that the world would never be the same.

  His kisses became more heated as he followed a path over her cheek and down her throat. He paused to lick and suckle her straining breasts, chuckling soft
ly as she arched her back off the bed in a silent plea for more.

  He lingered, teasing the tight nubs with lips and then with his teeth, careful not to break her skin with the aching points of his fangs. She hissed in pleasure, her nails digging into his chest as she experienced her first taste of passion.

  Promising himself that some night he would discover if he could make her climax just by caressing her breasts, Cyn slowly moved down her quivering stomach. Each kiss was lingering, deliberate. A sensual promise that was intended to stroke her desire to a fever pitch.

  Cyn lifted his head, capturing her startled gaze as he settled between her legs, his fingers sliding delicately through her feminine heat.

  “Oh,” she breathed, a flush staining her cheeks.

  He waited, allowing her to adjust to the sensations that were bombarding her. Only when she released a quivering sigh of pleasure did he slowly replace his fingers with his tongue. She gave a small gasp that settled into a groan of ecstasy as his tongue dipped into her moist heat.

  His eyes slid shut in pure bliss.

  Her honey was sweeter here, the crisp, utterly feminine scent of champagne intoxicating him.

  Over and over he teased at her tiny bud of pleasure before dipping his tongue into her body, bringing her tantalizingly close to the edge of completion before pulling back.

  At last she gave a choked groan of need. “Please . . . Cyn.”

  “Yes,” he husked, unable to wait another moment.

  Running one fang along the sensitive inner length of her thigh, he briefly allowed himself to relish the image of drinking deep from that tender spot.

  Someday . . .

  Until then he had another hunger to satisfy.

  One that was hammering through him with enough force to make him groan.

  He needed to be buried deep inside her.

  Crawling onto the mattress, he stretched out beside her and gathered her in his arms. Then, holding her gaze, he rolled onto his back until she was perched atop him. She blinked, pressing her hands against his chest as she regarded him in puzzlement.

  “I’m twice your size and double your weight. This will be more comfortable for you,” he muttered, barely able to form the words as her legs naturally draped on either side of his hips, her hot clit pressed against his erection.