The Darkest Destiny (Lords of the Underworld 15.50)

She jerked, panic seeping from her before she settled down, acting as if nothing odd had occurred.

“I’ll cease following you, you have my vow,” he told her, even as his instincts protested. Not see her again? Not protect her from other threats?

“Why would I ever part with such a dedicated stalker?” she asked, seeming sincere. “The more admirers the better, I always say.”

“Only moments ago, you claimed you wished to escape your legion of admirers,” he grated.

“So? I don’t have to be logical or consistent to be accurate.”

His molars nearly ground into powder. But his irritation didn’t last long. Why torture himself? Why not enjoy the truce while he could?

Sighing, Brochan swooped her into his arms. Without hesitation, she rested her head on his shoulder, settling in. The softness of her skin scrambled his brain as he carried her to the mouth of a large cave, teeming with sprigs of pink flowers.

“You may not have a key to Nevaeh,” she said, toying with his earlobe, “but you do have a ticket to paradise.”

The sky opened without warning and showered rain upon the oasis. Leaping and twirling to the center of the cave ledge as if it were her stage, Viola mesmerized him. Laughter spilled from her. The kind of laughter he hadn’t heard since his days in the uppermost level of the skies. Genuine and undiluted by sadness. This female enjoyed life in a way he never had.

“Why would you ever wish to leave this place?” she asked.

His chest cracked, and he lost his breath. “I seek a land without time, where McCadden will never grow old. I’ve yet to find one like Nevaeh.”

Viola pursed her lips. “Does he want to live forever?”

“Of course, he does.” What kind of foolish question was that? “I must get him into Nevaeh, Viola. He was only three years old when our parents deemed him tainted. They kicked him from our home, breaking his fragile heart. I was fifteen at the time. I moved out and took over his care, doing my best to provide everything he needed.” An action Brochan had never regretted.

The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her pallid. “I see.”

“Do you?”

“I do.” She flattened her hands over her stomach. “He is your beloved child.”

Perhaps she did see. Some of the tension loosened in his chest. “Yes. He is my child in every way that matters.” Brochan stalked past her, taking shelter inside the cave while keeping the goddess in his sights.

Raindrops continued sluicing down her lush curves, soaking her dress, reminding him of her shower.

His tension returned, worse than before. Brochan dropped his chin, laser-focused on his companion. “Give me the key, goddess.”

* * * *

The rain pitter-pattered, and Viola’s happy buzz faded. Brochan sure did know how to ruin a moment. He wouldn’t be too thrilled when he learned the truth about the nonexistent key. He might even feel as if he’d lost his only family yet again.

Inside, she cringed. As a mother, how could she hurt a father?

What if she found another way to save McCadden? She’d rescued Fluffy from the jaws of death using a literal piece of her heart. A pinch she’d severed from herself and wove into his—a spiritual process she’d learned from books.

If Viola shared a piece of herself with McCadden, she would need to feed him the same way she fed Fluffy. Her heart wasn’t a natural part of his, and it would drain, requiring charging.

“Give me what I want,” Brochan said. “I…I’m willing to partner with you to permanently neutralize the other Forsaken.”

“Wait. Hold up. In this so-called partnership, you get deliverance from your foes and a key?” Just not the one he assumed. “What do I get?” She plucked a flower and nestled its soft petals against her cheek before weaving the bloom into her hair.

“You receive deliverance from your foes as well. And freedom,” he grated. “Do you agree or not, goddess?”

“Not!” Giddy—ruthless—she peered at him over her shoulder. She’d won. Mostly. Kill the Forsaken, her enemies, and Brochan allowed her to feed Fluffy without interference? Done. “I demand a vow of eternal protection. Consider it a captivity tax. That’s my deal. Take it or leave it.”

His nostrils flared. “Sent Ones only bestow vows of eternal protection to their mates.”

“Good thing you aren’t a Sent One then. Although, there’s a slight chance I could be convinced to possibly consider pondering a long-term union with you.” Why not? If he were the one to pass her test…

A huff of irritation. “Stop pretending to desire me, Viola.”

Something about his tone and defensive posture unsettled her. She considered his display of vulnerability in the shower stall. How he’d flushed when they’d discussed lovemaking. How his previous partners had turned their heads, avoiding his kiss. Deflating his pride.

I can build his confidence.

When you can’t even build your own? The demon laughed at her.