Scion's Redemption

by Traci Douglass

  “I was so worried about you,” she whispered and stroked his chest.

  “I know.” He pressed another long kiss to her hair and she drew back, her hands sliding down to settle on his waist. “I felt your fear.”

  He took her hands and brought them to his chest. The call from her heart to his came again, stronger than ever. Her eyes met his, her lips parting as she tilted her head back.

  “I feel so connected to you.”

  “And I you,” he whispered and kissed her.

  She leaned into him and swept her tongue along the seam of his lips. He fought his need to drag her closer and devour her. Her sweet moan broke his restraint.

  Luther fisted his hand in her hair and bent into her, pressing the full length of his body into hers. The action elicited a delicious whisper of pleasure from her. He plundered her mouth, drinking in her taste and losing himself in her. Time drifted, carrying the world with it, and endless minutes passed. She arched into him, pressing her breasts against his chest. He felt the pounding of her heart, felt her need rise, and was powerless to deny his hunger.

  All too soon, Thana stepped back, her breathing as ragged and her cheeks flushed.

  He frowned and looked over to find they weren’t alone.

  Kagan strode across the white sand, his golden gaze narrowed. “How long do you think you’ve been in this place?”

  Luther frowned. “A few hours?”

  “More like a few weeks. Much has changed. The battle is over, for now. Thana’s blood is of no use to them now. The planets are no longer in alignment.”

  Mira came up beside Kagan, wearing a short pale dress that matched her coppery curls that she’d pinned up at the back of her head. Her expression was concerned. “Will they still come after her though? Or will they come after the rest of us?”

  “Not right away. They have their hands full with the casualties they suffered during the battle. But I fear they will return one day,” Luther said, a muscle ticking near his tense jaw. “And when they do, we’ll be ready.”

  Chago and Irena joined them, along with Wyck and Quinn. Sloane and Lin brought up the rear, with beleaguered looking Xander with them. If anyone deserved a tropical vacation, it was their commander. Luther couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a break from his duty, if ever. And yes, they had their differences, but he still respected the hell out the man and they were brothers.

  Thana slipped her arm around Luther’s waist as the rest of their group formed a circle on the sand. He looked down at her, soaking in the love in her gaze.

  “We’ll all be ready,” Xander said, giving a definitive nod, adding to Luther’s promise.

  He looked at the other Scion and they all nodded. Luther didn’t know how to thank them, so he silently accepted their support. He’d do everything in his power to protect Thana, and with the help of his Scion brothers, they’d keep her safe.

  She was his now. His to protect and cherish. His to love.

  And he loved her with all of his heart.

  Luther couldn’t resist gathering her into his arms and kissing her again. The rest of the group moved away, leaving them alone. He walked with her along the beach, to a quiet spot where rocks reached out into the endless clear sparkling water.

  The sun heated his skin, warming him to his bones and chasing away his tension.

  Thana’s smile took on a wicked edge and she waved her hand, instantly transforming their outfits into the suits they’d worn that steamy night when they’d first made love. He wore black swim trunks while she had on her teeny black bikini. She stepped into him, pressing her body to his and tilting her head back, inviting him in for another kiss.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her mouth, marveling at the power of those words. They’d saved them both, reached deep into his heart and given him strength he never knew he had. He waited, hesitant. He needed to hear her say them again as well.

  “I love you too.” She traced her fingertips along his jaw, then over his scalp.

  He stared into her eyes, warm water lapping at his feet. The battle was over for now, but not for ever. One day, Lucifer and the Nephilim would come after the Seals and their mortal hosts again, and the Scion had to prepare for that day.

  She slipped her hand into his. “I like it here. We should stay for a bit. I know so little about you and I have so much to learn. Maybe we rest here and just be together, away from the world for a while?”

  He nodded. She didn’t need to ask. Whatever she commanded, he’d carry out. He’d do anything for her, even endure sand and water. Together they’d learn about her powers and hone them until not even Lucifer himself could defeat them.

  “I want to learn about you too.” He clasped his hands behind her back, holding her loosely. “There’s so much about you I don’t know.”

  “You’ve watched me all my life—”

  “I might’ve watched over you, but I never really knew you until the night we spoke in the hallway the first time. I’m still learning about you, and it’s something we can do together. I’ll never leave your side.”

  “I do love the sound of that.” She rewarded him with a brief kiss that only served to reignite the embers of his desire. She took his hand and tugged him toward the water. He frowned. “I can’t swim, remember?”

  Then someone should teach you.”

  He wasn’t sure, but the look in her eyes said she wouldn’t relent until he said yes. That was his Thana. Never one to back down. She’d teach him whether he liked it or not and something told him that she wasn’t above ordering him to obey if he tried to refuse.

  His mind raced back to the night they’d last been in the water and where things had gone, and he stalked forward into the surf until they both stood waist deep. Then Luther pulled her against him and kissed her. She moaned into his mouth, her hands pressing into his shoulders, and her legs wrapping around his waist.

  He could get used to this.

  If all his swimming lessons involved sex, he’d willingly subject himself to them, and stay here with her for as long as it took for him to learn. Which might be years rather than days. He could be a slow learner when necessary.

  The water lapped at their bodies, gently rocking them. He couldn’t believe everything that had happened over the past few weeks, how much his world had altered, how much he’d changed.

  He’d always thought it wasn’t possible for him to change, that he’d never want anything to do with mortals, but Thana had proven him wrong. She’d stolen his heart and shaken his world to its foundations, rebuilding it with each kiss and stolen glance. Now, he only thought of her. She was his world. His Seal. His everything. She’d made him a good man, and he finally felt he was worthy of her.

  He loved her.

  He’d always be with her, wherever she went, whatever she did.

  He’d be there to protect her.

  Always.

  The End

  About the Author

  Traci is a USA Today Bestselling Author of Contemporary and Paranormal Romance. Her stories feature sizzling heroes full of dark humor, quick wits and major attitudes and heroines who are smart, tenacious, and always give as good as they get. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University and she loves animals, chocolate, coffee, hot British actors, and sarcasm—not necessarily in that order.

  To keep up with all my latest happenings, releases, events, and to sign-up for my author newsletter, visit my website: www.tracidouglass.net

  Also by Traci Douglass

  Paranormal Romance:

  Seven Seals Series:

  Scion’s Destiny

  Scion’s Surrender

  Scion’s Awakening

  Scion’s Redemption

  Scion’s Fortune (October 22, 2018)

  Scion’s Valor (TBA)

  Scion’s Completion (TBA)

  Blood Ravagers Series:

  Blood Bound

  Blood Freed

  Blood Vowed

  Blood Stron
g: A Blood Ravagers Novella

  (Available as part of the Born To Love Wild Anthology)

  Contemporary Romance:

  Harlequin/ Mills & Boon Medical Romance:

  One Night With The Army Doc

  Entangled Bliss:

  How To Seduce A Bad Boy (January 14, 2019)

  Can’t Hurry Love (April 2019)

  Sneak Peek of Scion’s Fortune

  It was the DGSE who took him.

  Thomas Marton was sure of it.

  He’d certainly been on their radar long enough.

  One of their agents had come into his Paris flat in the dead of night, sneaking into the bedroom to abduct him in his sleep.

  He didn’t look like all those spies in the movies either, dressed in black with a ski mask over his face to hide his identity. Nope. This man had been bold as brass, in his designer three-piece Italian wool suit and handmade black leather loafers.

  His kidnapper had brought him here, to what seemed like the pits of Hell, though in reality was just an un-air-conditioned room in a seedy hotel in the worst part of town. A filthy, dank hovel where the air stank of human waste and mildew and the constant bangs and thuds from the surrounding rooms kept him on edge and constantly awake.

  At first, Thomas had thought the whole event was a vivid and disturbing nightmare, worse than any he’d experienced before, but then he’d beat his hands nearly bloody on the wall, yelling for someone to help him escape. Now, he had the bruised knuckles to prove this was all too real.

  Given his career as a human rights attorney, he should have known better than anyone the atrocities one person could inflict on another. He’d defended young and old, rich and poor, sick and healthy, from all over the world. He’d landed himself a tidy spot on nearly every government watch list. Still, he’d never imagined one of them would be so bold as to imprison him against his will. He wasn’t even sure exactly why they were holding him. The recent list was so long, it was hard to pick just one. There’s been the immigration protests along the Champs-Élysées, the unfortunate tear gas incident at Versailles, and the pink-hat rebellion in Carcassonne, he could’ve been arrested for his indirect involvement in any of them.

  But this was different.

  The agent had come alone at first, entering the small room to glare at Thomas in silence and ignore his pleas to tell him why he’d been taken. The only time he’d gained a response from the man was when Thomas had felt brave enough to stand up to his abductor and force him to speak. The agent had snarled then and held up a wicked-looking curved blade sharp enough to cleave flesh from bone. Thomas had scrambled backward for protection, jamming his toes painfully on the bed frame for his troubles.

  His abductor hadn’t come by himself since.

  Thomas had stopped being afraid.

  After being trapped here for God only knew how many days, he couldn’t muster that emotion anymore. Fear had given way to anger, leaving him brave enough to face death in order to get some answers.

  Two other men accompanied the agent now, all just as tall and broad as his abductor, but one dressed in casual jeans and T-shirt while the other wore all black. None of them spoke. They didn’t even flinch when he hit them in an attempt to make them talk and tell him why he was there, punching his fists against their muscled bodies. Each visit lasted only fifteen minutes, but minutes seemed like hours in this place.

  Thomas was too tired to hit them now. Hunger had set in he didn’t know how many days or weeks ago and now he was so weak his head swam, and he spent most of his waking hours hallucinating about food. His brown hair hung in his eyes and his striped cotton pajama pants and white tank top were covered in dirt and ripped in places from his struggles. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the water-stained wall behind him, too tired and hungry to sleep, using all of his strength to keep breathing.

  They’d come soon.

  He hadn’t seen them in what might have been a day.

  The windows in the room were boarded up, casting the room in shadow. They hadn’t even left him the sky.

  Thomas took a deep breath and smelled steak.

  Frowning, he glanced around. Steak.

  The agent must have invented a new form of torture. The scent of juicy frying meat wafted through the room and before he considered his actions, Thomas was standing at the end of the bed, his knees wobbling. His mouth watered. His stomach growled.

  The door to the room opened and his knees gave way.

  Before he hit the ground, the agent snaked his arm around Thomas’s waist to keep him steady.

  “Careful,” the man whispered close to his ear, his voice deep and rough, sending a strange hot shiver through Thomas. The agent helped him right himself, keeping one hand on Thomas’s arm until he was seated safely on the bed.

  Thomas stared at his handsome savior, mind racing to catch up with everything that had happened in the past few seconds. The man still held his arm, his smile perfect and icy blue eyes bright and alluring. He couldn’t take his eyes away from his abductor and the longer she stared into at the man, the more relaxed she felt.

  Perhaps Stockholm Syndrome was finally setting in.

  The agent’s sensual smile widened, and he released Thomas’s arm, running a hand through his thick black hair before turning away with a curse. The heavy compliant feeling that had built within Thomas disappeared as the delicious scent of food assaulted his senses.

  His gaze snapped to the door and the source of the tempting smell.

  The other two men stood there, eyes fixed on Thomas as they strolled in with a tray of food covered by an elegant silver dome. While these thugs were handsome as well, they were no match for his agent. The man was all dark beauty and refinement, his finely tailored suit highlighting his tanned skin and glossy midnight hair.

  The agent waved his hand and spoke to the other two men in Latin.

  Thomas stared as the agent took the tray and removed the cover to reveal a filet mignon with all the trimmings, steaming hot and mouth-watering. He held the plate out to Thomas.

  Tempting him.

  He backed away on instinct, swallowing hard, heart hammering, fists clenched, determined to stand his ground. He’d been afraid before but hadn’t let them get the better of him. He hadn’t let his captivity break him. He wasn’t going to a good meal do in seconds what they’d failed to do in days.

  Thomas straightened and glared at him, lifting his chin in defiance. He was strong. Brave. His limbs trembled from hunger and fatigue, but he refused to let his fear show. The DGSE thrived on fear and used it to get what they wanted. They’d get no satisfaction from Thomas.

  “I apologize for the way you’ve been treated, Mr. Marton,” the agent said, his deep voice sending another burst of heat over Thomas’s skin, distracting him for a moment.

  They knew is name. Of course they did. He’d been right.

  His past had finally caught up with him.

  Thomas supposed that shouldn’t surprise him. He wanted to stand his ground but couldn’t help inching a bit closer to the tray. “What do you want with me?”

  “Why don’t you have a seat and enjoy this meal, and we’ll discuss why you’re here.”

  “Sit?” Thomas frowned. “There’s nowhere to sit except the bed.”

  The agent smiled and waved his hand. A large carved wooden table appeared out of thin air, followed by two matching tall-backed chairs with leather padded seats. The man bowed slightly and gestured toward them. Thomas wasn’t sure what kind of drugs they’d given him, but that was some pretty spectacular magic.

  “Better?” the agent said and set the tray of food on the table. “Whatever you desire, it’s yours.”

  For a price, no doubt. Thomas didn’t move. He didn’t trust this man. If he sat on the chair, they’d probably tie him to it.

  “Come, Thomas.” The agent held out his hand, the sleeve of his crisp suit jacket pulling back to reveal the cuff of a snowy white shirt and glittering onyx cufflinks. “Please. Let’s ta
lk.”

  “Your thugs took me in the middle of the night and you’ve held me in this shithole for I have no idea how long. We have nothing to talk about. I’ll see you in court.”

  The agent cursed in French and waved his hand again. “Sit.”

  This time, Thomas didn’t get a choice. One moment he stood near the edge of the bed, the next he sat at the table across from the agent, with the tray of food in front of him.

  “Eat.” The agent growled.

  He was wary of the delicious-looking steak, potatoes and vegetables in front of him but didn’t want to be force fed them either. He cautiously took the fork in one hand and the steak knife in the other, pausing.

  “Don’t even think about it,” the agent said, sprawling in his seat. He crossed his long legs at the ankle and leaned back in his chair, his cold icy gaze lending him a false sense of calm. Thomas glanced behind him to see the other two men standing guard at the door.

  Thomas cut into the steak. Eating the food was probably the wisest move he could make. It would give him much-needed strength and if he was going to survive whatever ordeal lay ahead and get the hell out of this mess, he’d need all the energy he could get.

  He devoured the meal, uncaring of how he looked, while the agent sat there, watching him. The meal was delicious and strangely revitalizing. Every mouthful filled his stomach and sent energy through his veins, urging him to taking another bite. The thought they might have spiked the food with drugs made him pause, and he glanced up at the agent. “There’s nothing in this, right?”

  The agent smiled, all sin and seduction. “Whatever you say.”

  Thomas pushed the plate away.

  “You’re not finished.” The agent frowned at his half-eaten dinner then pushed the plate back toward Thomas.