Dark Surrender (The Dark Ones Saga 3)

And my mind hated everything.

Even him.

I closed my eyes briefly before I opened them again and said the only thing I could say. “I have plants to water.”

His expression fell.

And for a second, he looked like he was going to say something, like he was going to reach out and pull me against his chest and tell me he’d been kidding, or that he couldn’t handle another second without touching me.

Instead, he reached into his pocket, tossed me a pair of keys and said, “Take one of Ethan’s spare cars, it’s right out front. Not the first time he’s been forced to share, oh and Hope? Make sure you shower before you’re in my bed again… I don’t like sharing your skin with dirt. Gets on my tongue… understand?”

I had a sudden vision of chucking the keys at his head or maybe just shoving them into his heartless chest — instead, I shrugged and said. “I’ll be back when my job’s done if I’m too dirty you can always find some other human to torture.”

His predatory glare was back. “Why would I waste my time on another human when I’ve spent all day training you?”

Just when I thought he couldn’t get any ruder, any more cruel.

I didn’t hang my head.

I didn’t cry.

Maybe because I knew it was too good to be true. A siren.

And a glorified gardener.

Who had elf blood.

Whatever that meant.

Green thumb?

Yeah, right.

More like, it was the only job I could get.

I think.

The memory was fuzzy.

Like all of my memories lately.

I ran out of the room before I did something stupid like cried — or worse, begged him to kiss me again.

As I stumbled down the stairs, keys clenched in my right hand, a jarring slice of pain struck between my ribs as though I was having some sort of serious heart attack.

With a cry, I fell down the last three stairs and with a loud crack landed on both kneecaps.

That was going to bruise.

“One reason,” a gruff voice said as two legs appeared in my line of vision. “Give me one reason not to rip his head from his shoulders.”

Strong arms pulled me into the air nearly sending me into the ceiling before placing me on the ground. Mason sniffed my neck and then knelt before me, his gruff hair covering most of his face as twigs and leaves poked out from the sandy brown mess.

“Be still.” He demanded in a low voice before his mouth descended just inches from one knee, he blew across the ripped part of my leggings, exposing one bloody knee, and then did the same to the other. Within minutes, the stinging stopped, and then the crazy wolf man licked me.

Twice.

I tried to jerk away, but his strong grip held me firm.