Dark Skye (57 page)

He nodded.

“We were best friends as children,” she told him. “Just as we are now.”

“Friends?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “But we’re so much more. You love me. And I love you.”

“You? Love
me
?”

“Wildly. Madly.” Maybe a kiss would remind him. Maybe she needed to spur his body as much as his mind. She rose on her toes, cupping his
face between her glowing hands, drawing him to her. Within his wings, her iridescent sorcery lit his eyes, joining his surreal pulselines. “Can I kiss you?”

His brows drew tight. “By all the gods,
yes.
”

Just as he had kissed her after those time loops—so she would kiss him.

A claiming kiss.

A no-going-back kiss.

He went motionless as she brushed her lips over his, once and again. When she slanted her mouth across his, he parted his lips.

She deepened the contact, slipping in her tongue to tease his. He met her with a groan, and she grew encouraged—as if he’d conceded far more than a kiss.

He began one of his slow-build love affairs with her mouth, sensuously licking her until her eyes slid shut.

Her hands shook on his face as their tongues slowly twined. His arms wrapped around her. He palmed the back of her head with one hand, his other dipping toward her ass, as if he couldn’t help himself. His wings tightened around her back even more, squeezing her closer.

Once they were sharing breaths, she drew back to whisper against his lips, “Remember me, love.” The ground tremors intensified, until even the immense trees shuddered. She felt like a sorcery reactor, stronger than she’d ever been.

Because I’ve never wanted anything like I want him.

“Remember”—she commanded between seeking kisses—“Thronos, please, remember me. I’m waiting for you.
Remember, remember, REMEMBER!
” Sorcery blasted from her to him.

Breathless, she drew back.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, vivid silver. Flickering remnants of blue light sparked around them.

“Anything?”

He shook his head. “Though I’d like to repeat this process to be sure.”
He tenderly brushed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “Shall we try again, lamb?”

He frowned; she beamed.

Voice roughened, he murmured, “I . . . smell magics on you?”

Her eyes misted again. “Those were the first words you ever said to me.”

His brow creased as he clearly recollected. “I remember you!” Recognition flared in his gaze. “My Lanthe.” As they had so long ago, his eyes told her,
I’ve been pretty much lost without you.

“Um, there’s a part in the middle. . . .”

“I’ve already skipped past it,” he told her. “We don’t dwell on things that have no consequence, and I’m not one to squander my golden”—he kissed her forehead—“coins.”

She grinned up at him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I never would’ve given up.”

“I love you, Lanthe. I knew it before, was going to tell you that night . . .” He trailed off. “And you love me too?”

“I do. I love us together. I want you back.”

“I’m here.” His smile was glorious. “You’re right. Our story is epic.” He buried his face in her hair, inhaling—

His muscles went tense. “Wait. I’m to be a father?” His wings fluttered open—as if
they
were stunned. “We’re having a baby?”

“What were the odds, huh?” she asked wryly. “Now we’ll be an army of three. And I have it on good authority that we can handle this.”

He swooped her up, spinning her around. Then he slowed, his face falling. He set her back on her feet, his hand dipping to her belly. “I have nothing to offer you. You—and our babe.” His hand shook over her as he said those words. “I have no kingdom. No home. What would you want with a displaced king and faction, living on borrowed time in a mortal forest?”

“
Our
faction could live here in Pandemonia. You felt something for this realm, I know you did.”

“It’s true. But the land is rife with danger.”

“Because of the demon hordes?” She waved that away, tugging her necklace up. “Don’t forget that I’m the Keeper of Keys and you’re the Reader of Words. We’ll open both gates and air this place out a bit. Oh, oh, I can speak Dragon now! So we could negotiate some kind of treaty with them—we might have to offer them a hottie Rothkalinan dragoness, but that’s okay.” Lanthe walked her fingers up his chest. “I’m not saying we, like,
own
Pandemonia. But I’m not
not
saying that either.”

He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “You’d live with me here?”

“Of course! I’d rather live in hell with you than in heaven without you.”

“The Vrekeners will think we’re mad.”

“I believe they’ll feel a pull to this place, just like you did. In any case, we’ll convince them. I know it’s a bit of a fixer-upper”—she motioned around her—“in need of Vrekener TLC. But it’s nothing that a bucket of paint and some lava dams can’t spruce up!” She stood on her toes, wanting more of his kiss. “We’ve
got
this, Thronos.”

He leaned in, his eyes telling her he was about to kiss her till her toes curled. Just before his lips met hers, he rasped, “If my mate has her heart set on Pandemonia, who am I to deny her?”

W
hat if there’s an even better place than the demon valley?” Thronos asked, his voice roughened from his many bellows to the proverbial rafters. After Lanthe had healed his old injuries once more, he’d made love to her until well after the sun had gone down. Now they lay within the cocoon of his wings, telling secrets. “What if we were to lead the Vrekeners to something even greater?”

“What do you mean?” She stroked the backs of her fingers over one of his cheeks.

“I keep thinking about one of the paths here: The Long Way. I can’t
stop
thinking about it.”

“Then it must mean something,” Lanthe said, excitement filling her. “Let’s go see what awaits us at the end!”

He cupped her face. “Exactly my thoughts.”

After dressing, they set off hand in hand into the night. They stepped upon The Long Way—which was anything but straight and narrow.

Together, they followed its many twists and turns.

With each league away from the fuming lava and the miasma of the swamp, the air grew cleaner. The sun was beginning its long, slow rise when their army of two (soon to be three) arrived at a lush plain. In the
center was a colossal gray-stone mountain wreathed in white clouds and moonrakers. A babbling brook meandered around the trunks.

The temperature was cooler here, the morning sun brighter.

The sky was a dazzling violet.

“Oh, my gold,” Lanthe whispered. “It’s so beautiful.”

Gaze still on her, he said, “Beautiful.”

She grinned. “And what do you think about the mountain?”

Thronos turned to take it in, canting his head.

Lanthe saw his chest bow, as if it were filled with too much emotion to be contained.

He tugged her back against his front, draping a possessive arm over her. “It smells like you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She sank into him, luxuriating in his warmth. “How’s that?”

Pressing a kiss into her hair, Thronos murmured, “It smells like sky. And
home
. . . .”

BOOKS BY KRESLEY COLE

The Immortals After Dark Series

The Warlord Wants Forever

A Hunger Like No Other

No Rest for the Wicked

Wicked Deeds on a Winter’s Night

Dark Needs at Night’s Edge

Dark Desires After Dusk

Kiss of a Demon King

Deep Kiss of Winter

Pleasure of a Dark Prince

Demon from the Dark

Dreams of a Dark Warrior

Lothaire

Shadow’s Claim

MacRieve

The Game Maker Series

The Professional

The Arcana Chronicles

Poison Princess

Endless Knight

The MacCarrick Brothers Series

If You Dare

If You Desire

If You Deceive

The Sutherland Series

The Captain of All Pleasures

The Price of Pleasure