Page 32 of Love, Rekindled

“Now you’re back to take your revenge?”

“Exactly. I want to watch that bastard suffer. And I finally have my opportunity.” He held out his hand. “Give me the sword.”

Jayla settled her features into a bored expression as if she were over the desire to fight for the weapon. “You really want it?”

The fey stepped toward her, anticipation smoldering in his eyes. “Yes.”

“Very well.”

With a movement too fast to anticipate, Jayla lifted the sword and threw it end over end. At the same time, Azrael flowed forward, snatching the blade out of the air and swinging it in a wide arc. Silvanus turned, his hands desperately reaching out as if he could wrestle the weapon from Azrael’s hands.

In his panic, Silvanus didn’t even bother to duck as the blade swung toward him, slicing through his neck.

Grimacing, Jayla watched the male’s head fly off his body, bouncing down the side of the abyss. At the same time there was a loud popping sound as the curse was broken.

“Done,” Azrael said, tossing the sword over the edge of the cliff with a grim smile of satisfaction.

* * *

For Azrael,the journey back to the lodge at the base of the mountain was a blur of icy wind and blinding snow as they gingerly made their way down the treacherous path. He’d been struggling to accept that the curse was well and truly broken, not to mention the strange sensation of having his soul nestled back into the center of his being.

It was a lot to process.

Back in the village, however, his confrontation with Siros was vividly burned into his mind. The bauk demon had been dead set against letting them stay another day. Quite literally. Azrael had threatened to rip out his heart and feed it to the dragon with no luck. Jayla offering an exhausted smile and a soft plea for assistance had finally induced the male to begrudgingly lead them back to the room in the cellar.

At last alone, Azrael closed the door and leaned down to pull off his heavy, snow-coated boots. Next, he removed his thick sweater, now damp and clinging unpleasantly to his skin, before moving to help Jayla slip off her boots and heavy parka. At first, he’d assumed he was keeping busy to avoid thinking about Silvanus and the reason he’d been cursed. He wasn’t proud of the thought that he’d spent his human years slaughtering helpless villagers. But as he slowly straightened to gaze down at Jayla’s pale, perfect face, he knew that wasn’t the reason.

The Viking he’d been in the past had been destroyed when his sire turned him into a vampire. No. He was trying to keep himself from tossing Jayla onto the bed. It didn’t matter that she was weary from using her powers to retrieve his sword or probably frozen to the bone after their journey through the howling blizzard. His body, his heart and soul, ached to hold her in his arms.

Jayla tilted back her head to regard him with a small smile. “Siros is going to bar the doors the next time he sees us coming.”

“Doubtful,” he said dryly. “He’s enchanted by you. As am I.”

She blinked. “Enchanted?”

He nodded without hesitation. “Enchanted. Enthralled. Obsessed.”

Slowly, she lifted her hands to place them against his bare chest. “At least you’re no longer cursed.”

Wrapping his arms around her narrow waist, Azrael splayed his hands against her lower back.

“Thanks to you,” he murmured. “Not only did you retrieve my sword, but you also kept Silvanus distracted.”

“You were the one to strike the killing blow,” she reminded him, arching her body forward. “You freed yourself.”

Azrael released a low growl. Silvanus was dead, but the memory of what he’d done to him would never be forgotten.

“No doubt I deserved to be cursed,” he admitted. “But I’m glad it’s gone.”

“Even though you won’t be returning from the grave?” she teased.

His hands lowered to cup her ass, desperate to feel her pressed tight against his thickening cock.

“My reckless days as a mercenary are over. I intend to retire and live a very quiet, peaceful eternity with my exquisite mate.”

He braced himself for her to pull away. Or at least to deny that she was his mate. Instead, she smoothed her palms over his upper chest.

“I suppose I could use some muscle at Dreamscape,” she murmured.

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