Page 46 of Violet Legacy

Heat flared in Dante’s eyes, the color darkening until they appeared black.

Rieka arched into him. His touch seared into her, making her want to forget everything else.

“Wildfire.” This time, it sounded like a promise.

Dante trailed kisses along her neck. His touch made her want more. Rieka held her breath as his hand softly moved along her stomach. Even through the material, her body was on fire, and desire washed over her. Dante released her hands, and she found herself sitting precariously on the edge of the table, body bowed, ready for Dante to feast on. She reached out, trying to steady herself, her hand hitting something metal.

Clang.

It took a moment for reality to intrude into her lust-induced haze. A small bronze artifact rolled off the table in slow motion.

“Fuck.” And it wasn’t the good kind.

Dante caught it before it hit the ground.

“Wildfire,” Dante said as he sighed and straightened himself, desire etched on his face. He ran his hands through his hair, but it was no use—there was no mistaking the fact that someone, Rieka, had tussled it.

Heat pooled between her thighs once more.

Dante gazed at her as if she was a priceless object.

Conflicting emotions crossed his hard features. He caged her with his arms. She dragged him closer until his body was flush with hers. The evidence of his desire was hard against her.

“It is midnight.”

Rieka stilled. “The statue.”

Chapter 27

Somethingwaswrong.

Rieka expected to see the guards surrounding the moat. Instead, they stood armed and at attention. Something darker quickly replaced the excitement she had been feeling.

“Stay here,” Dante ordered.

She scoffed at the command as she moved around Dante to get a better view, grateful that she’d worn sandals instead of heels to the gala, despite Sypha’s protests.

The metallic stench of blood in the air stopped her short as she entered the secure room. She waited for the crystals, half embedded into the wall, to be activated, but nothing happened. Silently cursing that her eyesight hadn’t improved with the rest of her heightened senses, Rieka stayed next to Dante. In the darkness, she couldn’t hear the guards move but she could sense them. Their aura of lethality danced at the edges of her newfound senses. Light suddenly exploded around her. Rieka slowly blinked, waiting for the black spots to disappear as her eyes adjusted to the ambient light.

The black marble pedestal stood untouched. A small bridge, no wider than a foot, appeared over the chasm. They could now securely cross the moat. Her heart raced with undulating excitement. And then she saw it. She forced her hands by her sides as she stood ramrod straight. The glass encasing the statue had shattered into a million shards. Pieces were scattered along the ground, glistening in the muted light.

The statue was gone.

She clenched her fists as she scanned the mess. Rieka walked closer to the edge, her gaze never leaving the pedestal. She tapped the bridge with one foot, unsure if it could still take her weight. The smell of blood was stronger where she stood. She wrinkled her nose. The guards were paying zero attention to the atrocity in front of her. Following their gaze, she tilted her head to the ceiling. Her mouth opened without a sound as the pit of her stomach dropped. Pieces of flesh and blood clung to the jagged rock, dangling precariously from their perch.

“Idris?” Rieka asked. She hadn’t seen him at the ball. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her. She took a step back and pressed against Dante.

“He has not left the gala.”

Rieka looked up at the familiar voice. It had been too much to hope that their close encounter on the balcony was enough. Dressed in pale silver from head to toe, he looked like he’d had a fight with a snow globe and lost.

“Which is more than we can say for the hybrid.”

“It is Dr. Sinha,” Dante answered, his tone Antarctic cold and just as unforgiving.

Rieka wanted to hide behind Dante. The balcony had been a moment of respite. But she wasn’t a coward, and she didn’t let other people win her fights. “It has been a while, Lord Kai.”

Kai sneered at Rieka. His pale amber eyes grew large and sinister. His perfectly coiffed black hair made him appear like a movie villain. It was unlikely Kai personally had anything to do with the guard’s death. The Atlanteans’ aversion to manual labor and blood was almost comical. She’d witnessed it firsthand the summer she interned at House Mestor’s Japanese summer palace. The year she had identified their statue of Vandana as a forgery.

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