Page 5 of Sustaining
He’s still holding my hand, still rubbing his thumbs in small circles across my knuckles. He never once looks away from me.
“I don’t know.” His head shakes, his inky hair skimming against his now serious eyes. “I never possessed dark magic. That’s what’s in you. I can feel it.” He swallows hard at that, like he hates thinking about it. “I’d rather it be in me than in you, Arrie.”
“I wouldn’t.” Wider my eyes strain, glaring at his suggestion.
“I’m a fucking demon. You’re a gorgeous mage. I think I can handle a little darkness, love. I was made for darkness.” His teasing smile doesn’t change the outrageous way I’m staring at him.
“Oh, here we go.” I sigh.
“You know you’d love if I got all edgy and brooding on you. Your shifters wouldn’t know where they stood if my cockiness matched theirs.”
“I’d absolutely hate that.” I blink at him, my head shaking as his nods more and more.
“I could stomp around a little in my free time and work on my icy smolder in my downtime. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Shut up. I can’t talk to you like this.”
His hand slips up my arm, over the crook of my elbow, and along my shoulder before he kneels in front of me, coming closer to skim his fingers along the curve of my neck. His hard body leans over me, brushing mine here and there in small, teasing touches. Hooded crimson eyes stare into mine, his lips nearly pressing to my parted mouth. The way he towers over me, kneeling for me, it’s romantically captivating. Suddenly every snarky thought in my head slips away until all I’m thinking about is how his sexy mouth would feel sealed against mine.
“Trust me, Arrie,” he whispers the plea.
And that’s all he has to say.
Because I do.
I nod slowly, his mouth still so, so close to mine.
Instead of kissing me, he leans in, his breath parting my lips with want. I want him so bad I ache.
Then I feel it. My eyes fling open wide as pain scrapes up my lungs, scratching my throat and slicing across my lips. His fiery eyes clench closed, his jaw spasming while he keeps his mouth skimming over mine. Faint flecks of shining ash whisk between our lips. Glittering ash twirls from our mouths, floating from some place deep inside me, and he breathes it right in. My vision blurs as tears stream down my face. I lift up to my knees, trying to meet him, trying to end the pain in any way I can. The arch of my back is painful, but his hands press there in an intimate and caressing way.
“It hurts, Sin.” I gasp on a shaking cry.
“I know, baby. I know.” More dark glitter slips from my lips and into his. He takes that poisonous magic and consumes it just for me.
I hear movement all around me, thundering boots and pressing hands, but I can’t look away from him. I feel like if I look away from the darkness that’s overtaking the crimson color of his eyes, I might die. The blackness in his gaze bleeds out until the red iris is just a sliver of a ring, and it’s both terrifying and captivating all at once.
All I can focus on his how anguished his handsome face is right now. The flinch of his eyes, the strangling way he’s holding my body to his. Every single muscle in his body is rigid against me.
My hands come up, both hands fist into his shirt, the fingers of my right hand clutching hard over the solid panes of his muscles. The thrashing feel of his heartbeat is the very first thing that my scarred hand feels. That strong and dangerous heartbeat pounds wildly against my fingers, calming me even as the pain shakes through my body.
He breathes me in. Every part of that glittering substance pulls from me and right into him, ripping into him as painfully as it’s ripped out of me. For a moment, when my vision spots and my lungs burn with a fiery intensity, I’m sure he and I will both die like this. I think we’ll die from the violent magic that’s slicing up our insides. We’ll die clinging to each other. I’ll die in this beautiful man’s arms.
And still I trust him entirely.
The carving sensation is cut away. Sinister’s closeness is torn away with it. The warmth of his body falls as he’s thrown to the floor. His back jars against the pretty green rug, his jaw tight, holding back the groan in his throat. His tattooed hand trembles from the energy that was just consuming me. He took my pain away. He took it all just so I wouldn’t have an ounce of discomfort.
But my father doesn’t understand any of that. Seething anger is slashed in tight lines across his face.
“You think I don’t see you, you little fucking soul sucker.”
“No.” I stand on wobbling legs, my lungs still gasping for a breath. My knees give out before I can even take a step.
Kain is faster.
His big body steps in between my father and the demon lying in a heap at his feet. Kain’s simple stance alone is a weapon. The solidness of his body, the broad span of his chest, and the fearless look of his eyes, is enough to make any man back down.
Except for a father.
