The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld Book 8)

by Gena Showalter

  Still, she could have taken Secrets, but she hadn’t. She’d been careful, even though she hadn’t realized what was happening to her or to Amun.

  Were the new demons forever a part of her now?

  No. No! He couldn’t allow that. He knew how evil those beings were, how disgusting their thoughts, and he would not leave Haidee to suffer like that. But what could he do? He waited for Secrets to tell him, but this time, no response was forthcoming. The demon was still lost inside those memories.

  Haidee was curled in the fetal position, whimpering, her tears burning his chest as they streaked down his skin. He reasoned out the rest on his own. She’d been a little girl when Hate first attacked her, and she’d probably clung to the dark piece of the demon she’d drawn inside her, needing the emotion to survive the terrible deaths she’d witnessed her parents and sister suffering.

  Hate was as much a part of her as Secrets was to him, but these other demons were new and hadn’t had time to bond with her yet. He hoped. They wouldn’t want to bond with her, either, and would fight the connection. After all, Themis had ensured Haidee was a demon executioner. That meant Haidee had the power to defeat the darkness inside her, even if she didn’t realize it, and the bastards had to sense that.

  No wonder they’d been so afraid of her, of her pull and her cold.

  Guilt filled Amun, surpassing every other emotion because, with this new knowledge, he realized he alone was responsible for her current torment. She had saved him, and he had harmed her.

  Haidee, sweetheart, he said, squeezing her tight. I need you to listen to me.

  Hurt, she moaned. I hurt so bad.

  I know, darling, but fight past the pain and listen to me. Can you do that?

  A pause, another whimper. Then a hesitant, yes. Yes. Amun, you’re reading my mind. How are you reading my mind?

  I think I instinctively built a mental wall to block you out when those demons were inside me. The moment you took them, that wall fell. Now I need you to fight the demons, sweetheart. Push them out of your body. Out of your skin.

  How? Every time I mentally approach them, they dart away.

  Corner them.

  I can’t!

  You can. And you will. Do it. Now. He put enough steel in his voice to anger her. Do it, or I’ll hand you over to Strider. You think you’re suffering now, well, wait until he gets you. He will torture the living hell out of you, and I’ll cheer him on. Then I’ll make love to another woman in front of you.

  Every muscle in her slight, trembling body stiffened. B-bastard.

  I know. Get well, and you can punish me.

  T-trying. Her body uncurled, stretching taut as a bow. They’re still darting…like little flies…no, close, I’m close…they can’t go anywhere else…there they are…

  Her back arched as an agonized groan ripped past her lips.

  Haidee? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.

  Pushing, I’m pushing them. They’re screaming, want out. Out, out, out.

  That’s the way, sweetheart. You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you. Keep pushing them. He flattened his palms, his cold, cold palms, on her and stroked. He stroked her everywhere, every inch of her body, willing the cold out of him and back into her. Push them out, and then cut any tether that binds them to you. Understand?

  Slowly her skin began to darken. Not tanning, not becoming a lovely gold, but becoming a dark, sickly gray. She was doing it. She was expunging them. He could feel the malevolence pulsing off her.

  Relief only increased his urgency. His hands moved faster, trying to touch every inch of her at once. That’s the way.

  The ice. Yes, the ice. Need it. Need it. Need— She screamed. Screamed until her voice broke, until his eardrums nearly burst just to escape the noise. Darkness was now pouring off her, drifting into the air like dust motes before darting out of the cave entirely.

  Her nails raked at him, drawing blood. She thrashed, she fought, but he never released her from his hold. Finally, thank the gods, finally, she sagged against him, silent, not even trembling, as if every bit of strength had been sapped from her and she could barely even manage to breathe.

  Amun never stopped cooing at her. He whispered everything he’d learned about her past, knowing she would want every detail. He promised he would never allow anyone—not gods, demons or humans—to hurt her. Finally, she rallied.

  I suspected you were part goddess, you know, he said.

  A small, sad smile. I almost can’t take this in. Chosen and betrayed by Justice. Targeted by Hate. Part Hate myself. I mean, I’m a demon and I’ve fought demons all my life. Lives. It’s ironic and weird and…and…I hate it. Hate. A bitter laugh. Makes sense now.

  No one can blame you for what happened.

  I can. I do.

  You shouldn’t.

  I want to deny it all, so damn badly, but I can’t.

  You are a wonderful person, and what we’ve learned today doesn’t change that.

  I— Whatever argument she meant to give, she changed her mind. Thank you, Amun. For everything you did, everything you said. For liking me despite this.

  Liking? He more than liked her, but she’d endured enough revelations for the moment. Sleep now, sweetheart.

  Yes.

  The gray cast eventually faded from her flesh, returning her skin to that lovely golden shimmer. The fever even cooled. He, too, sagged, his relief so great he practically choked on it.

  Hours passed while she dozed, her body trying to fortify itself. Though he was exhausted, he never allowed himself to drift. He remained awake, alert, keeping guard. And as always, just being near Haidee aroused him. More so now, considering how close he’d come to losing her.

  She was naked, he was naked, and her soft scent was imprinted in his sinuses. Her breasts were pressed into his chest. Breasts he’d held, suckled. Her legs were twined with his. Legs he’d spread, caressed. Soon he was sweating, the chill inside him gone as if it had never been. He needed to reaffirm that his woman lived, that their bond hadn’t been shattered.

  She’s too weak. She needs a little recovery time. More than that, making love had almost killed her. He would not risk her again. Ever. He would be with her, safeguard her, pamper her, but never again would they be together in a sexual way.

  “I’m not too weak,” she murmured sleepily, the coolness of her breath tickling his chest. “I’ll never be too weak for that.”

  He inhaled sharply. In that moment, he knew. He knew she was going to be all right. His arms tightened around her, squeezing so tightly he feared he would crack one of her ribs. But he couldn’t temper his reaction, couldn’t dilute his need to hold her and never let go.

  “Make love to me,” she said. She raised her chin and looked up at him, though she never lifted her cheek from his chest. “Remind me that I’m alive.”

  No, sweetheart. No. We’re just going to hold each other.

  “But why?” Was she…pouting?

  His cock twitched in response. What if there are other demons hiding inside me? Or what if you draw Secrets out this time? Secrets is a High Lord, and the demons you took from me were merely minions. High Lords make minions look like infant children in need of a bottle.

  “But there were hundreds of those minions.”

  Thousands of minions could not compare with one High Lord.

  She sighed. “That’s probably true.”

  Is that piece of Hate still inside you? he asked. Or did you expunge it, too?

  “It’s still with me. I can feel the emotion, weaker than before, but there.”

  Good.

  “Good?”

  I don’t want to risk losing you. I’ll die if I’m separated from Secrets, and I fear the same will happen to you if you’re separated from Hate. Even so small a piece.

  “Oh…yeah,” she said, disappointed. “I forgot about that.”

  His heart stuttered to a stop. Does it bother you that I will always be a demon?

  “Not at all.” She
slid one of her hands to his neck and pressed a fingertip against his pulse, jump-starting his heart into action again. “I accept you for who and what you are.”

  He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed to hear those words until she’d said them. As I accept you.

  She placed a soft kiss on his sternum. “I’m still in shock. But God, this explains so much, you know? Why I have so much trouble loving, why people tend to dislike me when they first meet me. Why moods are sometimes blackened in my presence.”

  I’m sorry. Sorry that happened to you.

  “I should be sorry, too. I want to be—well, more than I am—but it brought me to you, so…”

  He kissed her temple in thanks. I wonder how you drew that piece of Hate inside you without killing the host. I wonder how you took Hate, but not Secrets.

  “From what you told me, the host of Hate wanted me to free him. Until the pain started. Then he changed his mind. You didn’t want me to take Secrets. Maybe that has something to do with it.”

  Maybe.

  “Or maybe I wanted to hurt him, but didn’t want to hurt you.”

  That makes more sense. But either way, I never want you to go through a purging again.

  Frowning, she sat up, turned, and straddled his waist. “So you plan to deny us both for the rest of our lives?”

  Yes. Even though the word passed from his mind to hers, his tone still managed to drip with all kinds of irritation. He wanted her, damn it, and resisting her was nearly impossible. Practically riding him as she was, her breasts uptilted, her nipples hard, she wasn’t making it easy on him. She was making it hard. Very, very hard.

  One of her brows arched, and a calculating gleam entered her eyes. She flattened her palms on his pectorals and leaned forward, as if she meant to push off him and stand. “I can’t believe you’re making me resort to rape, Amun.”

  Haidee—

  In the next instant, she raised her hips and impaled herself on his erection. She was already wet, and took him easily. His lips parted on a silent moan of bliss.

  Her head fell back, and her nails dug deep. “A girl will do what a girl has to do to prove to her man that the only way to hurt her is to deny her. But then, I guess I’m not a girl. I’m borderline demon, so you should have expected this kind of behavior.”

  You shouldn’t have—you need to—oh, gods… Unable to stop himself, Amun arched his back and surged the rest of the way inside her, hitting her deep, so deep. A hoarse cry left him this time, echoing around him, and in the back of his mind he expected words to start falling from his lips. They didn’t. So he forced himself to return to that motionless state, panting, afraid and hopeful.

  As her knees squeezed his sides, her stomach quivered from the pleasure of having him inside her. She’d never looked lovelier, he thought. Never looked more pagan, more…his.

  Haidee, he gasped into her mind. I shouldn’t have thrust the rest of the way. You have to…move…off me…on me…you just have to move, damn it.

  She didn’t. She remained still, watching him.

  His fingers banded around her waist, holding tight. She was so wet, so wonderfully cool inside, and she was killing him with every second that passed, refusing to move off him—or on him.

  Finally he sagged against the ground. He didn’t have the strength to push her away. And he damn sure didn’t have the courage to urge her on. He wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t risk her.

  Haidee, he said, trying again.

  “Just hold on, baby,” she whispered huskily. “This little lady is gonna do all the work.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ALL THE WORK…

  Holy hell, she really would kill him.

  Especially since there were no more secrets between them. Not anymore. Amun knew she could now read him as easily as he could read her, and knew why she was doing this. She had felt his fear, his determination never to touch her like this again, and even though he had felt her fear, she was willing to risk herself. To try this again.

  But more than he wanted the exquisite pleasure he could find in her body, the utter bliss of feeling her inner walls clamp around him, holding him close, the thrill of sliding inside of her, retreating, then sliding back in, he wanted her safe.

  Secrets, he gritted out. Do you know what will happen to her if we…if I…take her again?

  His demon was still lost in her mind, soaking everything in.

  Damn this! Haidee hadn’t moved since her announcement. She merely sat there, his shaft buried deep inside her, giving him time to adjust to her plans. If he’d been a stronger man, he would have shoved her off. But he wasn’t. He was a warrior who had finally found his woman. A warrior who wanted to possess her, body and soul. A warrior who needed to stake his claim, to warn every other man away.

  “I’ll go slow, all right? Just release my hips and I’ll rock us both to paradise.”

  No, he managed to growl into her mind. He’d grabbed her again? Yep. He had. I will protect you. Even from myself.

  “You want me to go fast, then?” she asked, ignoring the other things he’d said.

  No! Gods, yes.

  “Well, what do I have to say to change your mind? I need your fire, Amun. Your heat.” As she spoke, she leaned down, shifting the slant of his erection inside her and making him groan. She braced her hands beside his head, her breasts meshing into his chest, her nipples stabbing at him, her wanton mouth poised about his. “And I think, maybe, you need my chill?”

  That slight hesitation revealed something her thoughts and tone hadn’t. Uncertainty. She was afraid she couldn’t please him sexually. That she was too cold for him, that she would hurt him.

  He couldn’t allow her to find fault with herself. To question her power over him. Some men might not like their women knowing just how badly they were whipped, but Amun wasn’t one of them. The better she understood the depths of his feelings, the more confident she would be. He wanted her confident.

  As she nipped at his lower lip, he released her hips, slid his hands under hers, beside his temples, and twined their fingers. She peered down at him, those pearl-gray eyes luminous—and confused, as if she didn’t understand what he was offering.

  I’m not wearing a condom this time, either, he said.

  Her pupils expanded as she realized what his comment meant. Surrender. He was giving in, giving her what she wanted. Risking her, the most important part of his life, to share this moment with her.

  “Do you mind?” she asked, her radiant expression lighting her up from the inside out.

  No. He imagined her pregnant with his child, as radiant as Ashlyn was with Maddox’s twins, and almost came inside her without a single thrust. Do you? His voice was choked now.

  “No,” she whispered.

  Then move on me, sweetheart. Let me give you fire, while I luxuriate in that ice. When she tried to rise, to ride him, he squeezed her hands, holding her in place. Just like this.

  “Yes.” She used her knees as leverage and glided up his length, making both of them gasp.

  Now kiss me.

  On the downward slide, she pressed her mouth into his. Immediately he opened, welcoming her tongue. Cool, wet, just the way he liked her. She tasted of his wildest fantasies and unending passion, both of which wiped his thoughts, his concerns, and left only need. He fought the urge to hammer at her, hard and fast, driving them both to the sweetest insanity.

  They would go slowly this time. If, at any point, she seemed to be in pain, he would find the strength to pull from her.

  Up and down she moved on him, savoring. Savoring until they were panting in each other’s mouth, silently gasping each other’s names, her nipples rasping against his chest, creating a decadent friction. His blood was heating, and that heat was seeping into her. Her blood must have been cooling because that chill seeped into him, wrapping them both in fire and ice, one sensation feeding off the other.

  Too fast, he said, even though they were moving at such a leisurely, languid pace, hips
rolling together, her clitoris grinding against him, her desire providing such a tight, perfect glide. Hurting?

  “So…good…”

  He licked his way to her jaw. Her ear. He nibbled on the outer shell, then dove inside. A shiver raked her spine and her lower body jerked against his. Another nibble and then he was licking down her neck. He stopped at the wild thump of her pulse and sucked, drawing the blood higher, just under his tongue. That earned another shiver from her.

  “Amun?”

  Yes, sweetheart. Gods, he would never tire of hearing his name on her lips. Tilt your head farther to the right.

  She obeyed, and he sucked at the tendon between nape and shoulder. Her movements quickened, but the thrusts became shallow, her body riding him only part of the way. Sweetest. Torture. Ever. She kept him in a state of unwavering desire, his skin so sensitized even the caress of air stoked him higher.

  “I—I love you,” she said.

  W-what? Dare he hope she’d said—

  “I love you.”

  Oh, sweetheart. She was everything to him. Simply everything. After her declaration, there was no holding back. No going slowly, no taking their time, playing it safe, easing their way to climax. Amun rolled her over, releasing her hands to grip her knees and shove them as far apart as they would go. Tell me again.

  “I love you.”

  He pulled nearly all the way out before slamming home. Again.

  A cry spilled from her lips. “I love you.”

  Again. In, out. In, out. Hard, fast. The heat spreading, the ice consuming. He stared into her eyes, so deep, losing himself, glad.

  “I love you.” Her nails dug into his back, drawing blood. Her head thrashed from side to side.

  In, out. In, out. He released one of her legs and placed it between his own, his testicles suddenly rubbing against her thigh. The new position diminished the space between her core and his hammering erection, the rounded, weeping head scraping against her clitoris with every insistent inward pounding.

  Soon she was gasping, incoherent. So was he. From pleasure, no hint of pain. And if he’d thought their first time intense, he learned the error of such a mind-set. She loved him. He owned her heart, just as she owned his. They were melded by more than their bodies. They were melded in spirit, part of each other forevermore.