The blade slipped between two vertebrae on his upper back and she twisted it. He unleashed an agonised roar and dropped to the ground.
The final remaining vampire moved so quickly she couldn’t track him. He was behind her in an instant and she turned as fast as she could, bringing her arm up to block the attack she could sense coming.
He was too fast.
He sank his fangs into her throat before she could get her arm across his neck and she shrieked as he pulled hard on her blood and she could feel it all rushing through her veins towards him.
No.
Sable kicked and flailed and the male laughed as he released her.
Her knees gave out, hitting the wet tarmac hard enough to jar her spine, and she slapped a hand over the wound as she stared up in horror at the brunet towering over her, looming in the shadows.
The King of Death.
His crimson eyes held hers, their elliptical pupils stretched thin and irises practically glowing in the darkness. The shadows clung to him like a lover, wrapping around him and turning his pale skin stark in contrast.
The corner of his bloodstained lips tilted into a smile.
Tears stung Sable’s eyes and she bit her tongue to stop herself from begging for her life.
“Pathetic mortal,” Grave spat at her and grinned to reveal his fangs. “I said you could not win against me.”
Sable’s heart pounded and missed a beat. Blood pumped from between her fingers, streaming down her chest.
He edged a step closer and she shook her head.
“And I warned you to keep away from her.” A deep voice boomed around the alley and Sable’s heart missed a beat for a different reason.
Strong hands grasped the sides of Grave’s head from behind and twisted it at a grotesque angle. The vampire’s expression froze in one of horror. Her saviour released him and he dropped to the ground.
Sable knelt on the wet pavement, staring up as the shadows parted to reveal the most beautiful sight she had ever beheld.
Thorne.
He towered above her, immense and dangerous, his horns curled around and flaring forwards like a ram’s and his leathery dragon-like wings furled against his bare back.
“Sable,” he whispered and held his hand out to her. She slipped hers into it without hesitation and he gently pulled her onto her feet and into his arms.
Sable didn’t have the strength to fight him. She nestled against his bare chest, using all of her strength to battle the flood of tears that threatened to burst the dam holding them back, and kept her other hand over the ragged wound on her throat.
Thorne pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she closed her eyes, shocked by the intensity of the warmth and alien feelings that flowed through her. She felt safe, protected, and loved.
“Let me see,” Thorne murmured and slowly drew back.
Sable pulled down a deep breath and peeled her hand away from her throat. Thorne’s dark eyebrows drew down above his glowing crimson eyes that held a beautiful look of concern.
He leaned in. “Let me make it better, my sweet.”
She didn’t stop him. She tilted her face to one side and closed her eyes as he licked the wound. Each careful, tender sweep of his tongue soothed her and chased away the pain radiating from the puncture marks. She mourned the loss of contact when he finally pulled back.
“There. All better.” He brushed the backs of his claws across her cheek and she looked up into his eyes.
The pain was gone.
His eyebrows furrowed.
“I would never let such a thing happen to you in reality, Sable. You do not need to fear him.”
In reality.
Sable frowned.
She was dreaming, and Thorne had walked into it and saved her. He was dreaming too and was here with her.
He had seen her secret fears and how the vampire haunted her.
Sable took a step back but he didn’t let her get further than that. His fingers clamped around her wrist and he pulled her back to him, right against his body. She tipped her head up and found him staring down at her, no trace of anger or irritation in his eyes. They held only the deep heat of desire, the intense look she had come to crave seeing in them.
Whenever he looked at her like that, she felt beautiful and desired. She felt needed.
She felt loved.
And it frightened her.
He wanted something from her that she couldn’t give him. He wanted forever.
Would he settle for now?
The sensible side of her said not to do this, not to give into the desire burning through her, the temptation that came from this being just a dream. It wasn’t just a dream. It was a vision, something they shared. It was as real as reality. She couldn’t keep giving herself to him in this place and expect him to keep his distance in the other.
Yet in this place, he couldn’t claim her. She could do whatever she desired in this vision and there would be no physical consequences. No bruises if they were too rough. No bite marks for Olivia to question. No unwanted pregnancies.
No bond.
She could satisfy her desire for Thorne, scratch the persistent itch to have him, and keep things purely physical.
The temptation was too great to resist.
“Thorne,” she whispered, looking deep into his eyes.
“I know,” he murmured in response, his gaze turning hooded and dropping to her lips. “My female hungers.”
She leaped and wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands caught her backside, holding her in place. Her mouth fused with his, a violent coupling that only served to set her on fire rather than satisfy her. She needed more.
Sable locked her legs around his waist and kissed him harder, and groaned as he nipped her lower lip with his fangs. He sucked it into his mouth and moved with her at the same time, slowly walking.
Where?
She groaned as her back hit the brick wall and he pinned her there, his broad muscular body pressing deliciously into hers.
He wanted to do it here, in the alley?
She moaned again, a thrill coursing through her, and she told herself it was just a dream. Not real. Thorne kissed along her jaw and down her throat, devouring it with playful nips and licks that sent fierce achy shivers through her. It certainly felt real.
“Want you naked.” Those whispered words sent more than a shiver through her. She burned to give him what he desired and to feel him hard and hot against her, skin-to-skin. She ached to have him sliding deep inside her, filling her up, giving her another hit of bliss.
Sable released him and tried to pull her top up. She hit a snag when he refused to stop kissing her throat.
“Trying to get naked here, Big Guy.” She tugged his little left horn to get his attention and he groaned. Her eyes widened as it grew in her hand and he flexed his hips, driving the rock hard bulge in his leathers against the apex of her thighs. “Naked. Now.”
Thorne practically dropped her. Sable pulled her top off and was about to tackle her leather trousers when she caught sight of Thorne opening his. She moaned, gaze lost in roaming rope after rope of muscles on his stomach and the delicious curves over his hips that led her eyes downwards to the thick pulsing shaft rising out of a nest of dark curls.
He had stopped her last time. He wouldn’t have the chance this time.
Sable wrapped her hand around his length, pulled him to her and dropped to her knees. He went to speak and it came out garbled as she licked the blunt head. He slammed his hands into the wall and brick dust rained down her back.
She looked up and grinned wickedly. He leaned over her, his face screwed up and his fists buried in the wall behind her.
Sable swirled her tongue around the head of his cock and ran her hands over his powerful thighs and he groaned again, his muscles trembling beneath her touch.
“Sable,” he whispered, his chest heaving and fangs flashing between his lips.
She closed her eyes and took him into her mouth, and he
shuddered, moaning loudly. She smiled and moved her mouth on him, taking him as deep as she could before withdrawing. He groaned with each stroke of her mouth and swirl of her tongue, and muttered something in the demon tongue that she hoped was complimentary when she brought one hand into play, teasing his shaft and his balls. His trembling worsened and his breathing quickened.
“Sable,” he implored and his hands claimed her shoulders. “No more.”
He pushed her back and stared down into her eyes, his bright crimson in the low light.
“Let me touch you.” He caught her arm, pulled her onto her feet, and caged her against the wall with his body. He shifted his hand, wrapping it around one wrist and then the other, and pinned them both above her head.
He had done that in their other shared dream too.
He wanted to be in control.
Or did he like how doing that made her arch against him?
The full length of her body pressed into his and he rubbed his hard shaft against her belly.
“Going to touch you now.” He lowered his hand, frowned and growled when his fingers met leather. “Need you naked.”
Before she could respond, he had broken the zipper of her leather trousers and had ran a claw along the stitching. He tugged and she gasped as the rest of the stitching gave, and he was lucky this was just a dream and he hadn’t just ruined her favourite leather trousers by turning them into a pair of chaps.
He groaned and palmed her mound through her panties and she forgot that she was mad at him about something and gave herself over to sensation instead. His hand was hot on her, pressing, demanding, and it thrilled her. He had been rough in their last dream, battling her for control, his wickedness matching her own. She wanted him like that again.
Sable raised her legs and had them around his waist before he could notice. She locked her feet and yanked him against her, trapping his hand between them. The first flex of her hips tore a groan from his throat and the second had him pulling his hand free and forgetting his desire to touch her.
He ground against her instead, driving the full length of his shaft along her cleft. Sable pressed the back of her head into the wall and rode each thrust, moaning as the head rubbed her sensitive spot.
“Naked,” she whispered, urging him into going through with the thought she could see flickering across his eyes.
He growled, ripped her cotton knickers from her, and impaled her in one deep, commanding thrust.
She cried out, the sound echoing around the alley and mingling with Thorne’s grunt of bliss.
“Thorne,” she moaned and he held her hip with one hand and her wrists with the other, keeping her at his mercy. She rocked on him as much as she could, urging him to let go and give her what she needed from him. Pleasure. Bliss. Ecstasy. A moment of sheer madness. “Your female needs.”
He growled and his lips claimed hers in a soul-searing kiss that melted her bones and left her liquid and compliant in his arms. He pumped her hard, stroking every inch of her with his long length, each thrust taking her a little higher.
The brick was rough against her back, adding a touch of pain to her pleasure together with Thorne’s tightening grip on her wrists. She moaned with each hard meeting of their hips, her breath mingling with his.
“Sable… Sable… Sable…” he chanted her name like a prayer and she found herself doing the same with his, uttering it each time their bodies met, willing him to keep going. He thrust deeper, possessing all of her, and she arched into him, using her feet to force him to roughen his strokes and take her harder.
She wanted to feel his strength.
She wanted to lose herself in him and never find herself again.
She wanted to become one with him.
Madness, but in this moment, she wanted his fangs in her throat and that ultimate connection to him.
She wanted to know what Olivia had and wanted it for herself, with Thorne.
“Thorne,” Sable whispered and it was as if he had sensed her need, as if he was so attuned to her that he knew her thoughts and her feelings, and what she was afraid to ask.
He released her wrists and buried his face against her neck, kissing it hard and teasing her. She didn’t want teasing. She wrapped her arms around his head and he clutched her backside, pumping harder with each stroke, adding another hint of pain to the pleasure boiling through her veins.
Just as she thought he didn’t know her deepest, darkest desire after all, he sent her shooting into the stratosphere.
His fangs sank hard into her throat, pain blazed a trail across her flesh from the centre of his bite and her blood ignited, detonating the tight ball of heat in her belly.
Sable shrieked and clawed his shoulders as she convulsed against him, every inch of her on fire and tingling, trembling. A full body orgasm that left her boneless and shaking, and left her mind reeling and ears ringing.
Thorne pulled hard on her blood and another explosion rocked her as he climaxed, his length pulsing and hot jets of seed filling her. With each jet and each pull on her blood in time with them, another bomb detonated within her, ripping another cry of ecstasy from her throat. They grew in intensity until she couldn’t take any more.
The pleasure overwhelmed her, overloading her senses.
She shuddered with the last one, weak and shaking in Thorne’s arms. Her hands slipped down his arms. He was trembling too and breathing hard against her throat.
He whispered something in the demon language and she caught only her name, but whatever he said made the marks on her throat burn and her body come alive again, blistering hot and tingling.
“Look at me,” Thorne whispered.
She tried to prise her eyes open to obey that husky command.
It was too much.
Sable slipped into darkness.
And shot up in bed.
She slapped her hand over her throat, breathing hard and fast, her eyes wide and fixed on the wall. It was blurry, her focus turned elsewhere, locked on the level below her and a room there.
A vicious roar shook the floor and she tensed.
Thorne.
She scooted from the bed and ran to the mirror on her dressing table, her heart thundering against her ribs. She dragged her hair aside and her breathing slowed as she danced her fingers over the smooth untouched skin of the left side of her throat.
The relief she had felt faded as a pair of dark red spots bloomed on her skin.
Son of a bitch.
Another roar sounded, louder this time.
Heavy footfalls joined it, growing in pace and volume.
Thorne.
Sable rushed to the door to hold it closed and had her hands on the wooden panels just as it burst open, sending her stumbling into the dressing table. Thorne’s crimson gaze swung her way, wild and dangerous, and her heart slammed against her chest. She clutched the table behind her for support and glared at him.
He advanced on her, a picture of menace and determination, a man out to finish what they had started in that dream. His gaze flickered to her throat and he frowned, cocking his head to one side as he halted.
The accusation balanced on the tip of her tongue died as confusion lit his scarlet eyes.
Hadn’t he known that he could claim her in their vision?
She touched her neck but felt no marks there.
Sable scrambled for the antique mirror and held it up. The marks were pale and faded into nothing as she stared at them. Why?
She had awoken before Thorne could complete the claim. Was that why the marks had now disappeared?
She didn’t feel bonded to him. Not that she knew what it would feel like. Olivia said that she could feel Loren though, and maybe demon bonds were similar. She couldn’t feel anything from Thorne other than confusion and a lingering touch of anger, and it was her gift telling her of those emotions.
He reached for her.
The bells tolled.
“What’s happening?” Sable looked towards the arched windows lining
the other wall to her left. It was pitch black outside. Still night. The bells weren’t ringing for a meeting.
Thorne curled his fingers into a fist and snarled, “We are at war.”
CHAPTER 11
Sable was angry with Thorne, and not just because he had almost claimed her in their shared dream. She had almost forgiven him for that, convincing herself that he hadn’t realised that he could do such a thing and hadn’t intended to ensnare her in a bond she didn’t want.
No, what had her really angry with him was the fact that the moment she had finished dressing, he had grabbed her and teleported them both to the courtyard. The people already gathered there had drawn their conclusions about her and Thorne the second they had set eyes on them and really, she couldn’t exactly be angry with them or argue that it wasn’t what they thought.
Not when her hair was all over the place and Thorne was wearing only his leather trousers, and had failed to tie them up.
He tied them now as he barked orders to his men in the demon language. Didn’t that look just great?
The vampires and werewolves snickered behind her. The demons looked ready to pay up on the bets that they had placed barely a few hours ago, but were eyeing her closely, paying particular attention to her neck.
Sable kept it covered and glared at them.
Thorne hadn’t even given her a chance to grab her weapons.
She turned to head back to her room.
“Where do you go, Little Mortal?” Grave said from right beside her and she whirled to face him, bringing her arm up at the same time, ready to block him.
He didn’t attack.
He quirked a single eyebrow at her gesture and then she sensed his focus intensify and knew he was listening to her racing heart.
“Jumpy tonight, are we not?” He reached his arms above his head, closed his eyes and loosed a low moan, as if he took great pleasure from the stretch.
It was then she realised that he was only wearing black boxer shorts.
“Jesus… put something on before I retch.” Sable turned away from him, and not only because she really didn’t want to see Grave mostly naked. If Thorne saw her looking at Grave, then he really would kill the vampire.
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