Smoldering Hunger_Part 2_Dark Kings

by Donna Grant

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  Table of Contents

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

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  To my brother, Aaron –

  We spent our childhood always at odds,

  but I couldn’t ask for a better brother.

  I love you!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To my magnificent, marvelous editor, Monique Patterson, for, well, everything. I love our collaborations, your excitement, and even your edits. You are a gift, and I’m honored to work with you.

  To my beautiful, incredible agent, Natanya Wheeler. You always find answers to my questions and work tirelessly on my books. Thank you for all you do!

  To Alex, Erin, Amy, the truly amazing art department, marketing, and everyone at SMP who was involved in getting this book ready. Y’all are astounding. Thank you!

  A special thanks to my friends and family for the endless support and love.

  Chapter Twelve

  Darius held Sophie against him as he stared at the opposite wall. There was no longer any denying the fact that he craved her like he craved to fly.

  It was a feeling he never expected to feel again. And he shouldn’t be feeling anything even close to this. And yet … there was no refusing to acknowledge it.

  He wound a long lock of her red hair around his finger and listened to her breathing begin to even. Damn Con for insisting he remain close to Sophie.

  Then again, Darius had intended to do it anyway. It was just easier to blame Con than to admit what was confusing the total shite out of him.

  Sex with Sophie was incredible. Her touch, her scent, her body—everything about her was as if everything he’d ever wanted had been brought to life.

  It shouldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be happening. He’d already found—and lost—his mate.

  “What are you thinking about so hard?” Sophie asked in a husky voice.

  His cock stirred at the sexy sound of her British accent. “Too much.”

  “Obviously.” She shifted her head so that she was looking up at him, a worried frown puckering her brow. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No’ particularly.”

  But he was going to have to. How much did he tell her before she began to ask questions? Sophie was intelligent. She would figure things out if Darius wasn’t careful.

  Under no circumstances would he be responsible for her discovering his secret and putting her in Ulrik’s line of sight. He would get what he needed from her and leave quickly. It was as much for her sake as it was for his.

  Her hand lay over his heart while her body was pressed against his. The feel of her warm skin was heady. Lying with her in such a way was dangerous.

  “I didn’t expect to see you again,” she said into the silence.

  Darius drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I tried to leave.”

  “I’m … glad you stayed.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Me too.”

  The truth of it hit him hard. It wasn’t about Ulrik. He would’ve stayed regardless, but Ulrik’s interest only spurred him to admit what he’d been fighting to ignore—his ever-growing need to have Sophie.

  “Am I still supposed to act like I don’t like you?”

  “Aye.”

  She was silent for a heartbeat. “Why?”

  “A dangerous man I’ve been dealing with.”

  “Dangerous?” she repeated nervously. “And this has to do with…?”

  Darius said the only thing that made sense, and because he didn’t want to lie. “Business.”

  She chuckled softly at his words while she rolled onto her back. Sophie scooted just enough away so that they weren’t touching. It didn’t go unnoticed by Darius that she had done it on purpose, as if she needed to break contact in order to catch her bearings.

  “Right,” Sophie said. “Business. I knew the moment I met you and Thorn that you were not the typical men in the city. Do you work for the government?”

  “Something like that.” It was as good of a cover as any, and it would allow him to keep most of what he did a secret.

  But for how long? A day? Two? If he continued to hang around Sophie he’d have to tell her everything because she’d eventually see something.

  That in itself frightened him. A part of him worried that she wouldn’t be able to handle the truth of who he was. Then there was the matter of his past.

  He was going to have to face that sooner rather than later. Darius would rather do it much later, but memories were assaulting him constantly.

  She tucked her hair behind an ear and turned her head to him. “You look like that type to work for the government.”

  Now that intrigued him. He rolled toward her and propped himself up on an elbow. Darius made sure not to touch her as he did. “Type? There’s a type?”

  “Of course.”

  “And what exactly is that?”

  She cut him a look, her olive eyes holding warmth and teasing. “The type that keeps to the shadows. The type who needs doctors to come to him instead of going to the hospital. The type who disappears without a word, only to suddenly reappear seemingly out of nowhere. The type who has an air of mystery and a large dose of ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude.”

  Darius grinned, he couldn’t help it. Did she really see him that way?

  Her face softened as if in wonder. “He does smile.”

  “I smile.” Didn’t he?

  “Not like that.” She reached out and touched his bottom lip. “It transformed your face. You should smile more.”

  “I could say the same of you.”

  Her hand dropped while her eyes lowered even as she turned to face him. “I don’t have to ask to know that something bad happened in your past.”

  “Because I doona smile?”

  Her smile was sad when her gaze met his. “It’s your eyes. Your view of the world is colored.”

  “As is yours.”

  There was a long pause before she nodded. “Yes.”

  Darius was suddenly curious, but he stopped himself from asking. If he wasn’t willing to share his secrets, why would she? It wasn’t fair of him to ask about her past or what had turned her so hard.

  “You’re not going to ask?”

  He shook his head. “You doona wish to talk about your past any more than I want to talk of mine. Tell me why you became a doctor.”

  “Um … let’s see,” she said with a grin. “Even as a little girl I’d play doctor with my dolls. I mended their broken bones, stitched them when needed, and even operated.”

  “I gather your dolls were gladiators or the like.”

  She laughed. The sound was magical. It utterly captivated him. All he wanted was to hear more of it.

  “Not gladiators, though they did fight often. It’s amazing how rough a doll can get with another,” she said, still laughing.

  “I can only imagine.”

  “From there I carried a box of Band-Aids, gauze, and antiseptic at all times. On
the playground, if one of the kids got hurt, I tended them. My bag of medicines began to grow the older I became. As I walked the streets of London, I often stopped and tended anyone who needed it.”

  “And they let you?”

  She shrugged her shoulder. “Surprisingly, they did. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back now they must have thought I’d gone daft.”

  “You’re a natural healer.”

  “I think each of us is born with a special gift. For some like me, we realize it fairly early and grasp it. Others find it later. I feel sorry for the ones who’ve either rejected their gift or not found it yet.”

  Darius lifted a lock of her hair from the bed and rubbed it between his fingers. “You’re verra lucky.”

  “I know. I love healing others, and it kills me when they don’t take my advice. What about you? Have you always known you’d do whatever it is you do?”

  “Aye,” he answered without hesitation.

  “Then I think we’re both lucky.” Her gaze shifted to his neck.

  Darius knew exactly what she was looking at. The head of his dragon tattoo that peeked over his right shoulder. Her interest made him want to fidget.

  “Is that a tattoo?” she asked.

  The first time he took her, he’d been clothed. The second time they’d been too frantic to notice anything like that. This third time was in the dark where she couldn’t see. It must be the streetlight behind him that shed just enough light to make out the tat.

  “Aye.”

  Her curiosity piqued, she sat up. “May I see it?”

  Darius pushed into a sitting position as she turned on the lamp on her bedside table. When she faced him, he felt the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Instead, he remained still as she crawled closer.

  The first contact of her hands on the dragon head made his breath catch. Her touch was soft and light, inquisitive. He didn’t want it to stop.

  Sophie was awed by the elaborate detail of the dragon head. It peered over his shoulder as if seeing who Darius was talking to. The ink was neither black nor red, but a mixture that shouldn’t even be possible.

  She moved on her knees around to see his back and could only stare in mute silence at the beauty of the artwork. The dragon took up Darius’s entire back.

  The dragon was perched, as if climbing Darius’s back to his shoulder. The detail was so impressive that she could even see the dragon’s claws digging into Darius’s back. The dragon had his wings half open while its tail curled at its tip, stopping just above his ass.

  She ran her fingers over the tattoo, unable to keep her hands off it. It wasn’t as if she knew Darius particularly well—or at all really—but she hadn’t expected him to have a tattoo. Yet, she wasn’t surprised by the revelation either.

  “Why a dragon?” she asked.

  He shrugged, causing his muscles to move and the dragon to look as if it were alive. “I like them.”

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  Darius turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. “You like it?”

  “Yes,” she said with a smile. “I’ve seen a lot of tattoos as a doctor, and I can honestly say that is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

  Sophie laughed when his arms snaked out and dragged her around to his front. His chocolate eyes held hers for a long moment.

  “What do you know of dragons?”

  She scrunched up her face. “I’ve never been one to love anything in a fantasy element, so I don’t know a lot about them. I know they’re in most cultures in some form—sometimes as good, sometimes as evil.”

  “And they’re the largest mythological creature in the world.”

  “True,” she admitted with a nod. “Is that why you chose it?”

  His smile caused her heart to miss a beat. “You were born to heal people. It was chosen for you.”

  “So the dragon was decided for you?” she asked.

  “It was.”

  “I didn’t take you for a man who was rooted in fantasy elements.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “I never said I was.”

  “But you’ve a dragon on your back,” she said as her eyes slid closed and her arms wrapped around his neck. His lips were doing wonderful things to her neck and throat.

  “Enough talking,” he murmured.

  Sophie forgot what they were discussing when he tweaked her nipple with his fingers. She ran her hands through his thick hair as he kissed down her throat to her neck and down to her breasts.

  A sigh escaped as she dropped her head back and gave her body once more to his skillful mouth.

  Dark Palace, Ireland

  Taraeth drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. He’d been waiting for Balladyn for over an hour. It wasn’t like his right hand to not come when summoned.

  Then again, Balladyn had been acting strange of late. Ever since he kidnapped Rhi and tortured her. That wasn’t true. Balladyn showed his true worth as a Dark Fae when he tortured her.

  It wasn’t until Rhi somehow broke out of Balladyn’s dungeon and escaped that he changed. Balladyn was determined to get her back. He promised Taraeth she would be Dark, but as the weeks passed, Taraeth was beginning to wonder if Balladyn would even be able to find Rhi.

  Taraeth rubbed the stump of his left arm. None of his considerable magic was able to stop him from feeling as if his arm were still attached. That’s how powerful a Fae blade was. The strength of the steel was unmatched, but it was the Fires of Erwar where it was crafted that gave the weapons the power to destroy a Fae as no other weapon could.

  Except dragon fire.

  Taraeth refused to think of that. The Dragon Kings were the Dark’s greatest enemy. The Kings not only had magic that was unmatched, but their fire burned hotter than anything.

  Just as Taraeth lost patience and was about to send men to find Balladyn, the throne room doors opened. Balladyn walked in with his head down. He didn’t stop until he kneeled before Taraeth.

  “My king,” Balladyn said.

  Taraeth leaned forward and braced his right arm on his leg. “You better have a damn good reason for keeping me waiting.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Balladyn clenched his teeth together. He’d given his full loyalty to Taraeth. He’d proven himself time and again, and the first time he was late, Taraeth dared to threaten him.

  It was with great effort that Balladyn didn’t reach for his sword and sever his king’s head from his body. Balladyn instead rose to his feet and met Taraeth’s gaze.

  “You wanted me to watch Mikkel.”

  “I said we needed to watch him. I never put you on that duty,” Taraeth said, his red eyes filled with contempt.

  Balladyn rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and smiled. “I’m your right hand. I know what you want before you give me the order.”

  “You’ve always been too cocky for your own good. Even as a Light Fae you thought you could get away with anything.”

  “Because I did,” Balladyn answered. “It’s why you wounded me and turned me Dark.”

  Taraeth turned his head away and replied grudgingly, “True. Are you going to tell me what you found?”

  “I wasn’t able to get close enough to Mikkel.”

  The king’s head swiveled back to him, anger radiating from his red eyes. Taraeth stood, his long black and silver hair flowing loose down his back. “You kept me waiting for nothing?” he asked in a furious tone.

  “I never said that.” Balladyn shifted his feet. “What I did see was Con and another Dragon King attacking one of Mikkel’s manors.”

  “Why?” Taraeth asked with his brow puckered.

  Balladyn shrugged. “I don’t have an answer, but I can assure you that Con still has no idea he’s been fighting both Mikkel and Ulrik.”

  “Was Ulrik there?”

  “As if Mikkel allows him too far out of his sight.”

  Taraeth nodded as he returned to his throne. “Mikkel doesn’t trust his nephew, and he�
�s wise not to.”

  “Ulrik doesn’t trust him either.”

  “Another wise choice.”

  “Who’s going to win?”

  Taraeth smiled wickedly. “That will depend on who I choose to help.”

  “Ulrik knows you’re aiding Mikkel, but has Mikkel figured out you’re helping Ulrik as well?”

  Taraeth gave him a droll look. “Mikkel is too caught up in his plans to realize that. Yet. He will soon enough. It’s why I’m playing things very safe for the moment. I’ll not always be able to do that. Knowing what those two are up to at all times helps to keep me ahead.”

  “Who’s watching Ulrik?”

  “A female Dark I sent to him the last time he was here. She’ll discover all that I need without Ulrik comprehending what she’s about.”

  “Be careful with him, sire. Ulrik’s need for vengeance far surpasses what Mikkel is about.”

  Taraeth sat back in the throne and sighed. “That I know. Ulrik is calculating and cunning. If I guess right, he’ll take out Mikkel before I ever have to make a decision.”

  In Balladyn’s mind there was no decision. He would get behind Ulrik because he was the stronger of the two. “Is there really a choice?”

  “There’s always a choice. Ulrik might be ahead a little, but Mikkel brings other things to the table that Ulrik doesn’t. Either choice is a good one, but which one is the best for the Dark?”

  What Taraeth really meant was which one was better for him. Balladyn was no fool. Taraeth had been on the Dark throne far longer than most Dark Fae who claimed it, and if Balladyn had anything to do with it, Taraeth wouldn’t be there much longer.

  Balladyn just had to bide his time a little longer. He could take Taraeth now, but why get in the middle of a war between Ulrik and Mikkel if he didn’t have to?

  He’d already made his choice, though it hadn’t been easy. Balladyn would help Ulrik if only because Ulrik would become King of Kings and then wipe out all the other Kings. That would free Rhi to love again.

  Mikkel claimed to want to kill all the Kings as well, but if he did, he would have no one to rule. Mikkel wanted others to bow before him. His younger brother, then Ulrik, had been King of the Silvers.