Page 82 of Thane's Demon
Strong arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me off the ground as effortlessly as someone catching a falling leaf. I gasped, struggling instinctively, but the fight left me the moment his chest pressed against my back. His breath brushed my neck as he held me, and I felt the trembling of my own fear melt into something helpless and raw.
“Alora,”he murmured, his voice low and aching,
“Stop running, little one.” I murmured my answer, my words a muffle no one would understand. So, he asked me,
“Now, are you going to be good for me?” I nodded, prompting him to lower his hand and place me back down so my feet touched the tarmac. He then spun me gently in his arms, turning me to face him. My hands pressed against his chest, his heartbeat hammering beneath my palms, intense and confident and terrifying. His fierce eyes burned into mine. But before I could speak, before I could breathe, he leaned in and suddenly he…
Kissed me.
It was not gentle. It was not hesitant. It was not something meant to calm me. It was desperate, consuming, a kiss that stole every thought and replaced it with heat and longing. A helpless surrender. His hands framed my face, pulling me deeper, claiming every trembling breath I had left.
My body melted against him. My fingers curled into his shirt. My fear blurred into something wild and dizzying. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his voice a low murmur that slid through me like silk.
“Sleep.”
My breath caught.
“Thane, what are you…?”
His thumb stroked my cheek, and a warm, velvety sensation wrapped around my mind, softening everything, pulling me down into heavy exhaustion I could not fight.
“Sleep for me, my little dreamer,”he whispered again, his tone both command and comfort. And as if weaving some spell over me, my world dimmed. My knees buckled, but his arms were already there, catching me, cradling me against his chest.
My vision blurred, his face the last thing I saw before darkness swept through me.
He held me close, and I surrendered to the sleep he placed upon me with his name slipping from my lips like a prayer…
“Thane.”
34
A DEVIL’S PROMISE
THANE
Alora slept, curled against the leather seat as the jet slipped through the night sky, her small body tucked into itself, as if instinctively seeking warmth. The soft rise and fall of her breathing moved in a rhythm so delicate, it almost hurt to watch. A faint crease sat between her brows, the last echo of her fear and exhaustion lingering even in sleep. Her cheek rested on a pillow I had placed behind her head, her lips parted just slightly, her lashes brushing her skin like dark strokes of ink.
I should have looked away.
Given her peace.
Allowed her rest.
But how could I, when everything inside me pulled toward her with a terrifying force? When the sight of her sleeping so close made something deep within me tighten and unwind all at once. I had never known softness until her. Never known warmth until the first time she whispered my name. Never known what it meant to be truly seen until she looked at me with something fragile and hopeful instead of fear.
And tonight, she had run from me.
Not from the intruders.
Not from the threat.
But from the truth of me.
The memory of her eyes, wide and horrified when she saw the demon surge from beneath my skin, came back to me with punishing clarity. That look had cut through me more deeply than any blade could. And now she slept beside me after I had kidnapped her. After I had just made her my prisoner, yet I was the one who felt trapped in a cage.
‘Mine.
Our light.
