by Gaja J. Kos
Fury rose inside me, so thick and sizzling I wanted nothing more than to drown those horrible people. Slowly. I would make them feel every excruciating moment of their lives slipping from their grasp.
And yet I knew that even such a well-crafted torment wouldn’t be payment enough for the damage they had caused. For the innocence they had stolen.
“Piccola… Even so, there is no excuse for all the death I brought upon your kind.”
“Former kind,” I corrected with a weak smile, but the intensity of Santino’s gaze kept me from saying anything more.
“Even if you were still a Rusalka, I would have loved you all the same.”
A sob caught in my throat. I quickly blinked away the accumulating tears and sucked in a breath to calm the raging sea of emotions threatening to pull me under.
“But why go after Rusalkas? What made your stepparents hate them so much?”
“The loss of their children.”
I gasped. “They killed their kids?”
Rusalkas only went after grown men. I didn’t know whether the magic didn’t work on younger males or if it was simply an unwritten rule, but in all the time I’d spent in the morass, not once did any of my sisters even think of drowning a child.
“Oh, they were quite grown,” Santino said with a low growl to his voice. “And they certainly weren’t the innocents Vesna and Savo made them out to be. Their deaths were well deserved.”
“Caz?” I asked after his words settled in.
It had to have been him who lifted the veils of lies for Santino.
Santino nodded. “If it hadn’t been for that persistent bastard, I wouldn’t be here now. He was one of the few Perelesnyks I crossed paths with that refused to shun me because of the reputation I’d already placed upon my scales. We fought. Several times. And still he kept coming back, determined to break through the shell of darkness my stepparents had trapped me in.”
I needed to smother Caz in a fierce hug the next time I saw him, dragon form or not. He’d saved Santino. There were no adequate words to express my gratitude for his selfless actions.
“Two centuries…” He exhaled. “Two centuries passed before Caz found me. My stepmother was already dead, but my vampire would-be-father continued to war with the Rusalkas. He unleashed me on every lake, every morass, or populated river he could find. With time, the Rusalkas became more apt at concealing their location, but even so, I took nearly a thousand lives, guided by Savo’s thirst for vengeance.
“At first, I couldn’t see the truth in Caz’s view of the world. His view of me. Then I didn’t want to. How could I continue with this existence if everything I did wasn’t the greater good I had believed it to be? How could I go on, knowing I was a mass murderer, hunting beings who had done nothing but lived their lives as nature had intended them to? But still Caz didn’t give up. He returned to me, time and time again, standing up to me even when I could have shredded him to pieces…”
“But you didn’t,” I whispered.
“No, I didn’t. I think that inexplicable self-restraint was what broke the chains Savo and Vesna had placed on me. They shaped me into a killer with no remorse, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to destroy Caz just to get to my prey. But even after those binds snapped, it wasn’t easy.
“Caz took me away, spent decades with me in isolation, where Savo couldn’t find us. Eventually, he brought another Perelesnyk, Enyan, to the mountain, and between them, they slowly dissolved every lie I’d believed in.” He glanced up at the ceiling, then met my gaze again. “I killed the vampire the moment Caz released me from our retreat, burned him with every ounce of my hatred that had accumulated in that time on the mountain. But his death didn’t give me closure. It couldn’t.
“I knew that even if I lived for millennia to come, nothing could make up for the atrocities I’d committed. But I joined Caz, nonetheless, first as a guard, then as a member of the police. Saving one life at a time to lift the darkness from my soul. It was only when the violence of the job became too intense that I retreated, offering the community something else.”
The cafe, I realized. A nice, quiet oasis where people could feel safe and calm from the storm that was everyday life.
He didn’t have to say it, but I knew that all this time he was looking after his patrons, keeping them shielded from the nastier, hungry shadows even beyond the physical boundary of that charming square. The glint in his eyes confirmed I was right.
“When I met you”—he shook his head—“I was afraid I would lose you to my past. It was selfish of me, piccola, and I apologize for it. But understand that for the first time, it felt as if I wasn’t fighting for myself, wasn’t fighting to atone…but to save something…someone…precious.”
Tears were streaming down my cheeks as his voice echoed through the air, blurring my vision, but I didn’t care. I only held on to Santino tighter, feeling the weight of his words. Accepting it.
“Even when that someone has blood on her hands?” I asked quietly.
“Not by choice.”
I sobbed. I sobbed as those tears continued to wet my cheeks and tremors gripped my body. For all the darkness Santino had lived through, he had somehow managed to do what the majority of the population failed. He’d seen beyond the veil of prejudice.
He’d seen me for the natural predator that every Rusalka was by law of evolution—not some murderous nymph of legends, a horror, spun out of fear of those with power.
Neither one of us would be able to shed the nightmares we had infused in other people’s minds. But between us, we were liberated from their grasp.
I gazed up at him, searching for words that refused to come as sorrow and fulfillment spread though my veins, then pressed my lips to his.
20
At first, Santino didn’t respond.
For a terrifying moment, I thought he wouldn’t at all, but then his arms were snaking around my body, lifting me up until I was straddling him, our mouths continuing their hungry exploration without hesitation, without pause. His hands slipped beneath my shirt, one resting on the small of my back while the other cupped my breast with tenderness that unraveled me completely.
I moaned into his kiss and tugged on the belt of his robe, exposing his chest and muscled abdomen.
Liberated from the silken fabric, the hard length of him pressed between my thighs. I shivered and ground against him, marveling at the heat of his velvet skin as he parted my folds. But didn’t enter.
I couldn’t tell who was teasing whom, but exhilaration swept through me, followed by a fierce desire for more. For everything we could offer one another.
Santino groaned, fingers lightly pinching my nipple and nails digging into my back, then tore away from the kiss. He pinned me with that liquid silver gaze that should have scared me, but only inflamed me further instead.
Gods, he was handsome. He was a storm of light and darkness. Ferocity and severity, joined into one.
The spill of silver curls fell disheveled across his forehead, his sensual lips half parted and hunger etched into every chiseled line of his face. And yet I noted a hint of hesitation there, too, casting shadows of doubt and bringing out a fragile hardness I wanted nothing more but to kiss until it dispelled, until it gave way to the hunger pooling beneath.
“Are you certain, piccola?”
I smiled at the raspiness of his voice and trailed my hand down his chest.
I followed the delicate, straight trail of silver curls that ran down his abdomen until my fingers slowly closed around his erection. Desire flashed in Santino’s eyes, but before he could say another word, I raised myself from his lap and guided him past my folds, deeper and deeper inside.
A soft cry fluttered from my lips as he filled me, and I stilled, waiting for my walls to accommodate his thickness and length. I wanted it all. Every sliver of pleasure. Every brush of his flesh against mine.
So I waited, my gaze digging into his, then lowered myself until I sheathed every inch of his throbbing e
rection. Sensual ripples danced down my back, my limbs, our joining complete with no distance left between us. As there wasn’t in life.
Locked together, I trailed my tongue along his lower lip, then slowly, so slowly, began to move.
By the third rise of my hips, Santino tore the shirt off my body. The fabric fell to the side, and he claimed an aching nipple with his mouth while his hands explored my back. Silken heat pooled between my thighs, burning and untamed, and I rode him, marveling how with my every move, his teeth grazed harder against the sensitive flesh of my breast.
My breaths quickened, the promise of orgasm clenching my muscles and obliterating reality with each new wave, but right as I trembled, suspended on the verge of reaching the tantalizing peak, Santino released my nipple with a deep, throaty growl.
His hands grasped my hips in an unyielding grip before I could protest, something wild and utterly male falling upon his features as his eyes bore into mine. Between one breath and the next, he snatched my control away, guiding my body down as he thrust upward with such strength, I thought my very being would shatter.
I cried out, sinking my nails into his shoulders. The heated release erupted in my core, and I clutched onto him, riding wave after wave of pleasure that ravaged my flesh. I didn’t know when I’d closed my eyes, but when I opened them again, I saw Santino looking at me with such intensity my breath hitched.
My muscles convulsed around the exquisite hardness of him in a plea for more. A request he gladly granted.
With powerful grace, Santino lifted us both off the love seat. For a moment, air brushed against my exposed skin, then the cool press of the wall replaced its touch. Goose bumps exploded down my spine, the blend of cold and heat seducing me as thoroughly as the dragon, sheathed between my thighs.
Santino lowered his lips to my neck, sucking and nibbling on my rapid pulse, but kept the thrusts of his hips gentle, exploring new angles and brushing against spots our previous rhythm had caused us to overlook. My entire body was trembling under his assault, and as my muscles tightened, a warning growl slipped from his lips, the echo reverberating across the sensitive skin of my neck.
“Careful, piccola. I want to pleasure you until there isn’t an inch left unsated. Until you beg me to feed off your release, just because you cannot take more.” His breath was a husky caress, lips brushing against my skin. “Don’t tell me you already want me to stop…”
I didn’t want him to stop.
But I did want him.
I moved in tune with his thrusts, clenching my muscles around his velvet thickness until he grew, filling me so completely I couldn’t help but scream into the air above us. I forced his rhythm, pushing him to enter me faster, harder, to take me without caution or reserve.
“Feed on me, Santino,” I whispered between gasps. “Feed on me and let me feel you come.”
His responding thrust was pure power. Physical and metaphysical alike. His incubus magic swirled around me, waiting to drink in the explosion of rapture once my orgasm spilled over that seductively painful edge.
But as his energy grew—so did mine.
Not the lethal tendrils of a Rusalka’s allure, but the seductive light of a nymph, irrevocably linked to love and passion.
Santino’s gaze met mine as our powers entwined, and when he pushed inside me, releasing that final barrier on his power and body, he claimed me as his.
And I claimed him as mine.
21
Santino truly hadn’t been exaggerating when he said the lair was equipped with food and drink. There was a whole kitchen behind one of the doors leading off the main area, and by the amount of provisions he kept stored in here, he either expected we would have to retreat from the cabin eventually, or spent a fair amount of time belowground himself. Somehow, I felt it was a combination of both.
The rich aroma of coffee wrapped around my senses as I cradled a pine-green mug and studied the map Santino had spread across the table. He was sitting on my right, his knee lightly brushing against mine, but his expression remained serious even when I returned the affection.
It was almost funny, really, that after everything we had discussed, fought over, and finally accepted, this was the one thing we couldn’t agree upon. Yet at the same time, a part of me was glad.
It felt… It felt normal, the bickering. The concern.
This wasn’t Mesechyn the nightmare perched on a chair beside me.
Although perhaps I was partially trying so hard precisely because I would do anything to keep him from reclaiming that mantel.
I sighed and took a long sip of my coffee, then gently placed the cup next to the map and glanced at the somber Perelesnyk. It was obvious he didn’t like my plan one bit, and I knew why. Not only did it rip control away from him, but it placed me right in the front lines.
There was no point in denying that I was scared out of my wits—even when the proposition was mine, and mine alone—but it didn’t change the fact that I was also adamant to not back down. I pursed my lips. If Santino didn’t want us to waste even more precious time, he would have to swallow his protests and agree.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t certain he wouldn’t rather risk the full force of Kauer’s men coming here than allow me to face my sisters by myself.
“I still think the river approach is too dangerous,” he said for what must have been the fourth time.
I rested my hands in my lap and twisted sideways until I was facing him—demanding his attention. “If I work with the water, Santino, they won’t sense me coming. You know I’m right.”
His mouth pulled into a thin line, but slowly, so slowly, he exhaled.
I brought my hand up to cup his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin echo the anger pooling in his silver-blue eyes. I understood his worry. Perhaps more than he knew. But it didn’t change two simple facts.
Not all of the Rusalkas there deserved to die.
And I didn’t want to be the person who would force Santino back into the clutches of his fiery past.
In light of that, fussing over my own safety seemed almost trivial. The Rusalkas’ magic wouldn’t work on me, but given how the lake had reacted to my powers, I was fairly certain my blend of ethereal strength didn’t gender discriminate. After all, this mermaid magic seemed to be attuned to me, not its targets.
“Please, Santino,” I whispered, bringing his face to mine when he wanted to turn away. “Please, let me do this. For both of us.”
His muscular frame shuddered as he exhaled. “Fine, we’ll do it your way, cara.” I perked up, but a slight curl in the corners of his mouth stopped the surge of satisfaction. “If you manage to contain me.”
The silver dragon descended upon the lake, wings spread wide and onyx eyes fixed upon me. Only the sight wasn’t one belonging to a nightmare.
It belonged to a dream.
Santino’s otherworldly beauty stunned me for a moment, and that was precisely what he had hoped for. Because that single second was enough to give him the opening he would otherwise have never received.
I swore, but Santino was already moving. He swooped down low, not using fire—one of the few rules we had agreed upon beforehand—but his talons swept across the water, parting it like a sharp blade.
I propelled myself to the side, magic spilling from my core with maddening urgency. Lovestruck or not, Santino would use my mistake to prove his point, to show me that I wasn’t skilled enough to fight my former sisters. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
A massive wave rolled over me, the structure denser than anything nature could have created without a supernatural push. With Santino’s speed and the sharpness of his claws, I didn’t delude myself into believing I could stop him completely, but even slowing him down was enough. I dunked under the surface to make my way faster across the lake, all the while shaping its currents into a slithering form that couldn’t be seen from above.
Stealth was crucial.
Santino was physically stronger than me, and—unlike the Rusa
lkas—well aware of my capabilities, so the initial element of surprise I might have had was gone. However, that didn’t mean I couldn’t create a second one.
I swam as if I were fleeing, casting occasional vines or walls of water so that the attacking dragon wouldn’t see through my game while I bided those precious seconds that just might change the tide. More and more magic flowed from my core, binding the water to me and me to it, until we were living in absolute harmony, my song a silent melody that saturated the currents and made them pliant in the arms of my desires.
Still, the urge to look up gnawed at the edges of my mind, but I didn’t dare give in to the impulse to sneak a glimpse at Santino’s flying form. If he managed to distract me again… I pushed the thought out of my mind and monitored his shadow instead, reading his position from the light breeze uncurling from beneath his wings and ruffling the lake’s surface.
On my third time around, I struck.
Almost every ounce of water the lake harbored shot towards the sky, the threads bending and entwining until they created a circular orb that encircled Santino, then solidified into the hardest of ice. I saw the glimmer in his eyes, that smug look that told me he was about to renegade on our no-fire rule.
But I was ready for him.
Two slender jets of water snaked around his face, one binding his muzzle, while the other pooled before his nostrils, just daring him to try and vaporize it. He knew as well as I did that by the time he took that lethal inhale to release his fire, his lungs would already be drowned.
Only the silver dragon didn’t appear to be dissuaded by my threat.
We remained like that for a moment longer, my muscles and mind aching from the exhaustion of wielding so much power at once, but I refused to let go. Refused to drop my hold on it in case Santino felt like cheating.
Thankfully, the man knew how to admit defeat.
He angled his massive, silver head in acknowledgment, onyx eyes staring at me with admiration. I smiled and released the magic, but the moment I did, Santino reached for his human form.