Wicked Road to Hel (League of Guardians 1)

If he kissed her now there was no telling what she’d do. She ached for the taste of his blood, for the touch of his soul.

She should turn away.

If she was a good girl she would, but Ana remained still, her body g

ripped with the seductive pull of bloodlust. His hands slowly spread across her lower back, and without warning he hoisted her into his arms.

He paused and hugged her to him as if she were breakable. The gentle rise and fall of his chest rocked her, and inside, buried deep within her soul, she heard a cry. It was a sad lament for what would never be.

And in spite of the fact that it was all kinds of wrong, Ana ignored the cry and the urge to break from him. Instead her arms clung to his shoulders and she relaxed against his body as he carried her from the kitchen.

Swiftly his long legs strode down the hall and he took the stairs two at a time, showing no effort as he climbed yet again to the next level. Declan walked with purpose toward the end of the landing, as if he knew where her lair was. He waved his hand and the door opened, allowing him passage into her secret world.

One she’d not shared with anyone since Jean-Charles.

The loft was large and bare of furniture. It smelled of paint, oils and canvas. There were a few rugs tossed about the wood floor, a large cupboard to the right, and several paintings hidden in the far corner. An easel stood with a clean canvas resting upon it.

Underneath the tall window was her bed and it was there that Declan stopped. Gently he lowered her onto her back, his hands quickly removing her boots before he did the same to his own.

Ana turned onto her side, her mind a whirl of confusion. There’d been no words between them, no talk of what the night would bring.

She should order him to leave. If she was stronger she would.

Instead, Ana watched the shadows on the wall disappear as Declan closed the wooden shutters that dressed the window. And then the bed sank as he slipped behind her, his arms going around her midsection to pull her in tight to him once more.

She reveled in the warmth of his breath and the safeness of his embrace. Her small body tucked into the curve of his as if it was meant to be. How many times had she visualized this very thing? It was heartbreakingly perfect. Heartbreakingly wrong. The words whispered around the corners of her mind, bringing with it fear and the fury of her hunger.

It was the hunger that scared her more than anything. She knew in that moment that her thirst would plague her until the end of her days. He was the only one to quench it.

Declan’s arms tightened as if he knew she was about to bolt. “Just one night. That’s all I ask.”

Ana frowned. He sounded different. Troubled. Something was off.

“What happened tonight?” she whispered.

A long silence followed her question and his breathing slowed. Declan held her so gently, his head nestled into the crook of her neck, that after several moments she thought maybe he’d not heard her.

“Declan?” she whispered, not understanding any of this. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

After a few moments he spoke. “Fate,” he said simply.

“What?” She tried to turn, to look into his eyes, but he held tight. Declan was definitely hiding something.

“Fate happened tonight.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No more words,” he murmured, “just let me hold you.”

So many questions crowded her mind, yet Ana remained silent. She would honor his wish and leave it alone—for now.

She tried to relax but her hunger was biting. It clawed at her something fierce. She stared into the darkness and thought about puppies and rainbows. Eventually the hunger abated.

Ana closed her eyes, settled into his embrace, determined to enjoy this moment for what it was, a slice of Heaven that would end as soon as the sun rose.

Declan woke abruptly and was immediately aware of the fact that he held Ana tight to his body. She felt amazing in his arms and he groaned softly as he shifted. Her small form fit perfectly against him, her ass especially exquisite, and his cock swelled at the thought.

She was asleep. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her head lay to the side leaving her neck exposed and vulnerable, told him so. His arms tightened and he lowered his face, drank in the scent of her as his mouth graced the pale skin along her neck.