The Darkest Seduction lotu-10

by Gena Showalter

  Paris, weak and growing weaker. The news that he’d remained faithful to her shouldn’t have relieved and delighted her, but it did. It so did. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? What would you want in return?” More bodies to feed his shadows?

  “Unlike that fool Cronus, I have no need to lie. And part of me hopes you turn me down so that I can force you. Your screams will join my others, and the symphony will thrill me for centuries to come. I’m feeling magnanimous, however, and we will try your way first.”

  This can only end badly.

  He continued, “I heard what the angel said to you. I heard what Cronus said to you. You are a key to victory, and I want you to play for my team.”

  Argh! Once, no one had wanted her. Now everyone did. “Nope. Sorry. I’ve already picked my side.”

  “I thought you would say such a thing. But I heard you bargain with the goddess. She asked for a boon, and you agreed. I will accept the same arrangement.”

  “You want me to slay one of your enemy?” Shocking. He should have no problem doing that on his own.

  “No. I simply wish for a boon, to be named later. Anything I desire, as long as it does not hurt your man or his friends. Do you agree?”

  “I can’t go back to Paris. You’ll have to do something else to save him.”

  “I cannot, but you can. All you must do is allow me to take you to him. So simple, so easy.”

  Hardly. “Leaving him nearly killed me.”

  “Staying away from him will kill him.” His voice became a caress. “Let me take you to him. You may be with him, strengthen and save him, and then you can convince him to give you up, for no one else has been able. No one else will be able.”

  I’m so weak. Can’t leave him in danger. “The girl goes with me, and that’s nonnegotiable.”

  “Of course. For a second boon.”

  Sweet heaven, how many would she owe when this was over? “Very well, but only if the same conditions apply.”

  “They do. And so the new bargain is struck.” Though she could make out no faces in the dark, the shadows thinned in one area, light seeping through to reveal a hint of a grin. “I take you to your man, who is searching for you, and the girl to Aeron, the one searching for her.”

  Sienna blinked, and next found herself inside a tent located somewhere outside the Realm of Blood and Shadow. Too much light seeped in from the tent’s cracks. But then she spotted the fur rug and her location ceased to matter. Paris was sprawled on top of it. He was still. Too still. Fear nearly drilled her to her knees. Until she inhaled. Warm air, scented with champagne and chocolate, fogging her up in the most succulent of ways. His demon’s special scent. Her mouth watered, and her blood quickened. Her own injuries were forgotten as warmth pooled between her legs.

  “Paris,” she whispered. His skin was fever-bright, flushed and beaded with sweat. He was gloriously naked, and thickly aroused. His eyes were calm behind his lids, his chest barely rising with his breaths. “Oh, Paris.” I can’t let him get like this again. Have to do something.

  “Sienna?”

  She rushed over to him and kissed him, knowing even so small a gesture would help revive him. The more their tongues dueled, the more aggressive he became. When his lids flipped open, eyes of brilliant red pinned her. With a growl, he grabbed her by the waist and tossed her to her back. Her heart sped into a superbeat as her wings flared to avoid being crushed.

  He ripped at her clothes, shredding them. The very moment she was naked, he had her legs spread and was inside her, thrusting hard and deep.

  As he worked her, he threw back his head and roared. She arched up and took him even deeper. Brutally, wondrously.

  She’d missed this, missed him. Needed this, needed him. Her nails went to his ass and guided him into a faster rhythm. The passion swept her up, overwhelmed her, consumed her, broke her heart and fit the pieces back together. Her love for him knew no bounds, had no limits.

  Just as climax loomed, he stopped. Just stopped, and peered down at her, panting breaths bursting over her. The flush had drained from his cheeks, and realization now flooded his eyes, followed by concern and horror.

  “Oh, baby. Did I hurt you?” His thumbs dusted over her lips with exquisite care.

  “Talk later. Make love now.” So close. Any second now, she would hurtle into satisfaction.

  His cock jerked inside her, as if the command had sparked all kinds of naughty desires. “How are you here?”

  “Later!” She squeezed at his massive length.

  “Yesss.” His hips pistoned once, pistoned again, and then he was slamming in and out, and they were both moaning. Then his lips were on hers, and their tongues were intertwining, and she was swallowing his taste, and it was better than ever, and she couldn’t get enough, never wanted this to end, and…and…and… Oh!

  Little pleasure bombs exploded through every inch of her. His name left her mouth over and over again, the chorus joined by his shouting of her name as he came. He jetted white-hot, giving her every drop of his passion. She relished the moment, savoring him, thrilled by all that he was.

  When he fell on top of her, she cradled his weight, exactly where she wanted to be. Where she wanted to stay, forever. She’d left him once. She didn’t think she could leave him again.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

  “You better,” he murmured against her ear.

  That’s my man. Such a Paris thing to say, and she grinned.

  He disengaged and rolled to his side, but kept her close, his arm wrapped around her. “And now that I’m not dying,” he announced, expression growing somber, “we talk.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  PARIS KEPT HIS BODY LAX, not wanting to make Sienna uncomfortable, or aware of the fact that he basically had her in a choke hold. A gentle choke hold, one that did nothing to impair her ability to breathe, but a choke hold all the same.

  She wasn’t going anywhere, and that was that.

  Thankfully, Sex was out for the count and unable to comment.

  “All right,” she said. “Let’s talk. I’ll start. Do you hate me now?”

  “Hate you? Baby, that might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. No offense.”

  “None taken. I’m too relieved. After what I did to you…”

  “All you did was remind me that I need to up my game where you’re concerned.” And honestly? Her actions had given him hope that she felt as deeply for him as he felt for her.

  “You’re not mad at me for going to Galen?”

  When he would have done the same thing? “Only at myself. I should have sated you so sublimely, you were never again able to walk.”

  “A little more practice on your end,” she teased, “and that’ll be a possibility.”

  “Witch.”

  When she reached up to brush her hair off her face, he saw that she was cut up and bruised. He swallowed back a bark of fury. Having been restrained a time or twelve throughout his life, he recognized the markings for what they were. Rope burns. “Did Galen do this to you?”

  Dread shuttered her features. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Very well. He wanted to reassure her about a few things first, anyway. But he would find out who had harmed her afterward, and as soon as he did, he was going on a rampage for revenge.

  “That means you’re ready for talk, part two,” he said, all hint of his amusement gone.

  “I—I don’t know about that.”

  “Too bad. You need to know that I didn’t sleep with anyone while we were apart.” No matter how weak he’d gotten, no matter how many females his friends had shoved at him. Finally, all but Lucien had continued on their quest to find Sienna.

  Mental note: tell Death to call off the search party.

  Speaking of, he was pretty sure Lucien had popped in while they were having sex, thinking to protect him from whatever had come to kill him, then had popped back out when he realized what was going on.
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  “I know.” The tips of her fingers traced languid circles around his nipples. “I trust you. But Paris, you were so near death.” She kissed his chest, just above his heart. “I don’t like that you allowed yourself to get in that condition.”

  “Don’t care. And just so you know, Sex missed you, too. You wear a lot of hats, and he wants to do them all.”

  She chuckled, a warm, rich sound that acted as manna for his ears. “Right now I’ve got my stern taskmaster hat on, so you two better listen. I have to leave. I just have to, but I need to know you’re taking care of yourself and—”

  “No.”

  “Don’t be that way.”

  “Try to leave. Just try it. See what happens.”

  “Paris—”

  “You stay or I let myself fade. End of story. Promise me.”

  Such heavy silence. “I have a plan I have to see through.”

  “Plans change. Deal.”

  She banged her fist against his chest. “You are so frustrating.”

  “Tell me what I want to hear, Sienna.”

  A sigh slipped from her, seeming to drain the fight out of her. “Fine. I’m staying with you, but we’re going to have to brainstorm a solution to our Cronus and Rhea problem, our Galen problem, and our you’re-gonna-die-prophecy problem. Because, did I tell you? Cronus told me that if Galen dies, you and your friends die. If Cronus dies, you and your friends die.”

  “I’m not saying I doubt what you’ve heard, but I do doubt the source. But even if what he said is true, there will be a way around this prophecy. There always is. I’m not worried in the least.” In fact, he was overjoyed. And were those tears in his eyes? Yeah. Yeah, they were. If that made him a wuss, that made him a wuss. He didn’t care. She was here, she was staying. She was his.

  He glided his arm from around her neck to her lower back, splaying his fingers over her curves. “Thank you,” he said, but the words weren’t enough. They didn’t convey enough. “And now that we’re officially together, I want to tell you some things about me. I want everything out in the open, nothing hidden. I want to share all that I am.”

  She must have sensed the direction he headed. “You don’t have to. What happened in the past is the past.”

  “Full disclosure. I want you to know what you’re getting with me. That way, if Wrath ever shows you something, or my friends ever say anything, we’ll already have dealt with it.”

  “Whatever you say won’t change the way I feel about you.”

  “I’m glad, but I’m doing it anyway.”

  Her sigh caressed his skin oh, so deliciously. “All right.”

  She loved him. She’d copped to the feeling. This would be okay. “I’m an ambrosia addict. But I haven’t touched the stuff since before reaching you,” he rushed to add. “And if something ever happens and I’m exposed to your blood, you don’t have to worry. I will not hurt you.”

  Her silky hair tickled his chest as she nodded. “I know you won’t hurt me, but Paris, I drugged you. I didn’t know about your addiction, or I would have found another way to knock you out. I am so, so sorry, and I will never forgive myself.”

  He hated the implication that she would have left him still, but he drank up her concern for him. “Forgive yourself right now. That’s an order. But I will, of course, be spanking you before I forgive you.”

  The most adorable noise escaped her, a snort and a laugh combined. “I accept the spanking. Deserve it.”

  His lips twitched with the sweetest kind of humor. “You can’t accept your own punishment, baby. You’ll have to fight me.”

  She purred, actually purred, and the vibrations had him rock-hard again.

  Tell her the rest, so you can move on to the good stuff. He lost his half grin. “Okay, here’s part three. I know you told me you’ve seen my past, but I’m not sure if Wrath showed you everything. I told you about that one slave, but he wasn’t the only one. I’ve…been with men.”

  Not even a pause. “Oh, yeah? Well, in college I kissed a girl. She was my roommate, it was raining outside, dark with the occasional flashes of lightning, romantic yet scary. You know how it goes.”

  That she wasn’t going to make a big deal about it, that she again just accepted each facet of him…no wonder he loved this woman. “Did you like it?”

  “I kinda did,” Sienna said in a scandalized whisper.

  Mmm, but he liked her scandalized. Wondered what he could do to ramp that up, what would make her nervous but too excited to say no. Finding out, well, he’d never looked forward to a bedding more.

  “Later, after your spanking, we’re gonna do a little role playing. I’m going to be your sweet, innocent roommate, Parette, and you’re going to demonstrate that kiss on me.” And then I’m going to talk you into doing things you’ve only ever dreamed about.

  “Incorrigible beast.”

  “But you love me anyway.”

  “I love you always.”

  Before he could respond, there was an explosion of white light at the front of the tent. In a flurry of movement and frothing rage, Paris grabbed both the crystal blades, pressing one into Sienna’s hand. He was standing a moment later, unconcerned by his nakedness.

  Cronus had arrived, and if his fearsome scowl was any indication, he was ticked. First instinct: attack. Paris tamped it down. Barely. Second: recon. Answers, he needed answers.

  The king’s narrowed gaze slid past Paris and onto Sienna, who had just finished righting her clothing. “You ruined everything,” he growled.

  Paris moved in front of her, blocking the king’s view. Cronus merely pointed to the side of the tent, and Paris was propelled there on a powerful gust of wind, his arms spread, his legs spread, invisible ropes tying him in place. Though he fought, he couldn’t free himself.

  Helpless. Just like that. Panic was like bitter pills in his mouth, and he swallowed so many he might just overdose.

  Darkness…so much darkness…I will hurt him. I will kill him. He struggled so viciously his muscles began to tear from his bones. That didn’t slow him.

  A scowling Sienna popped to her feet. Use the crystal, he projected with the last vestiges of his control. She didn’t; she stood her ground, her chin held high.

  “I’m not going back to Galen,” she announced.

  “Even if he were addicted to you, Galen will not trust or follow you now. He hates you. You took his prisoner, damaged his soldier, and he is not the type to forgive or forget. To him, every offense is to be returned a thousandfold.”

  Those gossamer black wings extended. “There’s another way. We’ll find it. Just give us time.”

  “Time? Time.” Menace pulsed from Cronus. “You once asked me why I wanted you willing. The answer was simple. Eventually you would have turned on me. Now you have and that’s no longer a concern. So, no, I’m afraid you’re out of time. Now I will destroy everything you hold dear.”

  Paris snarled as Cronus vanished and reappeared in front of Sienna in a single blink. He snagged her by the hair. At last Paris managed to free himself, both shoulders popping out of joint. He was running for them. Nearly upon them.

  Just before he reached her, Sienna shouted, “Zacharel! I summon you.”

  Cronus reached out and stabbed Paris just before Paris reached them. Sienna gasped. The pair vanished, her gaze locked on Paris as he fell to his knees, a searing pain consuming him.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  “WE ARE NOT DOING THIS again,” Sienna shouted, worried for Paris, desperate to return to him. “I’m sick of everyone flinging me where they want me to be.” Black, all around her. In her nose, in her lungs, pouring through her bloodstream. No color, no life, just an endless void. “That ends now.”

  “You failed to take the easiest route, and now you’ll have to live with Plan B,” Cronus said, his voice slithering from the nothingness.

  I won’t ask. His plans mean nothing to me.

  “Zacharel!” she called again. Work with the angels? Why not? She would learn to
fly properly, and finally, once and for all, control her own destiny.

  A flicker of light. A return of the dark. Another flicker, lasting just a bit longer. She caught a glimpse of big, puffy clouds, glued to an endless expanse of night sky. A star here, a star there, twinkling from their perches like eyes trained on her, watching her every move. She must be in another realm. One without a single living creature in residence.

  She turned a full circle, and found Cronus standing a few yards away. His arms were crossed over his chest, his legs braced apart. She was suddenly very grateful she’d maintained her grip on the crystal blade Paris had given her.

  “Another reason I wanted your willingness,” Cronus said. “If you had turned on me, you would have become Rhea’s soldier and therefore been under her protection.”

  Now he wanted to talk? Well, he could take his confessions and shove them. “I’m warning you. Return me to Paris. Now.”

  He arched a mocking brow at her. “Or what?”

  “Or I will fight you.” Planned to, anyway. You just sped things along.

  A booming laugh, sharp and bitter, even anticipatory. “You could try.”

  “Return me to Paris,” she repeated. “This is your last chance.”

  He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Rhea did not kill your sister. I did.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as denial rushed through her. “No.” A lie, surely. One meant to punish her. Because, if he were telling the truth, she would have helped the very man who’d destroyed her precious Skye, leaving her bloody and broken, her last memory of a knife slicking through her skin. She would have bled for the man who had destroyed an innocent. She would very nearly have sacrificed her own life and happiness for her sister’s killer…

  No!

  And yet, Wrath’s earlier insistence that something had been wrong suddenly made sense. The moisture evaporated from her mouth. A knot grew in her throat, and she had trouble drawing in the necessary oxygen. Dizziness took center stage in her head.

  “I held her in my hands, and I slit her throat. I watched the life drain out of her. I killed her husband first. Made her watch. I can prove it.” He reached up and jerked a chain from around his neck. A butterfly carved from a black diamond dangled from the center.