Darkyn's Mate (#3, Rhyn Eternal) (6 page)

“No,” she said. “You’re messing with
me.”

Darkyn responded by removing his hand from
her body. He ran one finger along her lips. She felt a drop of
warmth and instinctively licked it. Warm, sweet.

Him.

Her hunger became crippling. She wrenched
away from him, desire and thirst making her head reel.

“Look in the mirror,” he said, nodding his
head towards the wardrobe. “You’ve got the demon marking
already.”

Deidre fled to it, needing something to
bolster the defenses that were dropping too fast. She yanked the
wardrobe open and turned to peer over her shoulder.

She had two markings on her back: One
burgundy, the familiar Immortal mating tattoo, and the new one
black, positioned directly beneath the original. Both displayed
Darkyn’s name. Shocked, she wasn’t able to move.

“You will never have a chance with Gabriel,
even when you win your deal.” Darkyn touched her arm again, his
cool energy making her snap.

“You son of a bitch!” she whispered. “I will
never say those words!” Deidre slapped him hard. Darkyn’s tongue
flickered out to catch the drop of blood from the corner of his
mouth.

She raised a hand to slap him again, but he
grabbed her. Any control she had slid away. She struggled against
him, not caring what he did to her now that he’d taken away her
only real hope of leaving.

He kissed her. The taste of the blood in his
mouth ensnared her instantly. She stilled, arrested by the flavor
and texture. All conscience effort to think fled and was replaced
by a new instinct, the primal need to feed. He released her. Deidre
took his face in her hands, hungrily trying to taste more of him as
she explored his mouth with fervor.

Only when every last lingering fleck of
blood was gone did her ability to think return. She dropped back on
her heels, staring up at him in surprise. Darkyn’s dark eyes
glowed. His fangs were out, his attention riveted to her.

“Blood bond,” he said quietly. “The original
bond from the time-before-time. Demons are the only who still
practice it. Immortals and deities have mating marks. Demons have
blood marks. I am both a deity and a demon, which means you have
both. Insurance.” He stepped away, towards the bed, peeling off his
shirt as he went.

Deidre couldn’t register what he said and
how permanent he claimed it was.

“I know you are hungry. Come feed with
me.”

She
drank
blood! Horrified, Deidre
started toward the door. She needed to run away, far away, until
this nightmare was over.

Darkyn stopped where he was and lifted a
hand. He slid a fingernail across the pad of his thumb.

The scent of blood was crippling.

She tried to turn away,
but the smell filled her senses with inhuman hunger and
desperation. Deidre sank to the floor, not trusting herself. She
wanted –
needed
–
to taste him again. It was painful. Instead, she wrapped her arms
around her knees and tucked her face in the crook of one
elbow.

Wake up, Deidre!
She ordered herself.

Too aware of him, she tensed as he crouched
beside her, the scent too potent to be a dream.

“I can’t … do this.” She shook as much from
need as fear.

“You already have.”

“It’s wrong.”

“You feed me. I feed you. We give each other
life. What is so wrong in that?” he countered. His cool touch
calmed her this time, parted the reeling emotions and chaotic
thoughts.

On some level – in the
newfound instincts that wanted to taste him – his words made sense.
Even with him taking the edge off, reality still wasn’t real. This
place, him, her situation – they
couldn’t
be, or she was going to go
insane.

“Let me go. Please,” she whispered, raising
her head to see him.

“It’s too late for that.”

“Is there no part of you capable of …” she
stopped. His eyes were so cold and ancient. Hard. Unforgiving.
Merciless.

“No, there’s not,” he replied just as
softly.

“Am I so bad that I end up married to the
devil?”

“You are the only innocent soul in Hell.”
His chilling smile did nothing to make his statement more
tolerable.

Darkyn tipped her chin up, until she met his
gaze again.

“This is where you belong. You must accept
that. You must accept me. I didn’t just turn you Immortal; I turned
you into one of my kind. A demon. One who must feed on blood to
live.”

He offered his bloodied thumb. With effort,
she turned her head away.

“I can’t be like you. I can’t hurt people or
drink their blood,” she said.

“You don’t have to. You will only drink from
me. You will only hunger for me.”

“And you?” she asked, bitterness in her
voice.

“The same.”

Uncertain if she understood him or not,
Deidre studied him. He had yet to lie to her, and she didn’t think
he was now. He had no need to; this was his domain. In his mind,
she was already his.

“I will only drink from you,” he said
slowly, clearly. “It is what being blood bound means. Think of it
this way, love. You are saving five lives a day, simply by being my
mate.” He smiled.

Deidre’s mouth almost fell open. “You were
killing so many people?”

“Bled them dry. This will help you
rationalize and accept your place here, I believe.”

She swallowed. “You turned me into a
demon.”

“I did.” He shifted forward as he spoke and
nudged her head aside with his. The low purr in his chest was
audible. He nuzzled her neck.

Deidre closed her eyes, hating that she was
turned on by the thought of him feeding from her. Of her needing
his blood.

He turned her into a demon. A creature that
required blood to live. More tears squeezed from her eyes. She
already sensed she was fighting a losing battle. She wanted him so
bad, it hurt.

“Drink,” he whispered.

The impulse to do as he bid was too strong.
She touched his neck with trembling hands and felt his pulse. He,
too, was a demon, but he had a human body, a heart, blood.

He waited.

“There’s no going back,” she said
hoarsely.

“No, there’s not.” Sensing she was yielding,
Darkyn drew her into his body.

Deidre’s breathing was ragged as she tried
to process what she was about to do. She found herself nuzzling his
neck, compelled by the elusive scent and taste. Why didn’t the idea
disgust her like she thought it should?

“This is really happening,” she said in
disbelief.

“It is. You can’t hurt me. Drink.”

“If you knew I was blood-bound, why provoke
me into a deal you already won?” she asked.

“You need to confront what is before you.
Gabriel’s biggest mistake was not forcing you to accept your new
world from the start. I will not make the same one,” he replied.
“And I like to know you’ve got some fight in you. I’ll teach you
how to fuck like a demon before the week is out.”

She hesitated. Need was thick in her body,
an inhuman craving she knew now how to satisfy. She bit him
timidly, failed to draw blood, then closed her eyes and bit him
hard.

He growled, a sound that
made his chest vibrate against hers in a way not remotely human. He
didn’t tell her to stop. The growl faded to a purr. She drew his
blood into her mouth, immediately appeased by the elusive flavor
that made her blood burn. She was tasting
him.

The unnaturally deep intimacy of the moment
wasn’t lost on her. Deidre eased against him, the tension fleeing
her body. Her senses became saturated quickly by his scent and
heat. She withdrew her teeth from his neck, not at all certain what
to think of what she’d done.

“You are the first and only to draw my
blood.” His purr was husky.

She rested her cheek against his, and they
breathed the same air, his steady and hers erratic. Deidre felt the
wetness of her tears. She was confused again, unable to shake the
memory of Gabriel or fully accept this new fate.

“That means something important, doesn’t
it?” she asked.

“It means I accept you as my mate,” he said.
“It means you can fight me now.”

“How about running?”

“Try it and see.”

“I’m not ready for that,” she replied. “I’m
not ready for this. For you.”

“The bonds are complete.” His shifted, and
his tongue flickered out to capture her tears. “There’s nothing
else between you and me, except you accepting it.”

Deidre wasn’t expecting his version of
kindness. He was too hard and cold to offer much in that way, but
he spoke the truth softly and then kissed her hungrily. She
responded, her sorrow and confusion feeding her need. He lifted his
head.

“No more tears,” he said. A cunning smile
crossed his face.

She stared, not understanding. She smelled
it suddenly and jerked, scouring his body to find the blood whose
scent stirred her senses. She spotted the maroon drops on the pad
of one thumb and drew his hand up to her lips. Before she could
capture the drops, he lifted his hand above his head, out of her
reach. He stood.

“What are you doing?” she asked, confused.
She rose with him.

“Provoking you.”

Hunger roared within her. Deidre stretched
but couldn’t reach. He pushed her away and moved towards the bed.
The sensations within her churned and burned in a way that demanded
she do something. She treaded to him and pulled his head down to
kiss her then nudged it aside instead to reach his neck.

Darkyn pushed her away again. Madness was
settling into her at the scent and sight of his blood. She could
neither control her body’s reaction to it nor satiate it.

“Come on. I’ll teach you to play with your
food.” The light of challenge was in Darkyn’s eyes. He waited.

Deidre caved, unable to take the newfound
hunger. She went to him. She ran her hands over his chest and
leaned forward, nipping him hard enough to draw blood.

“Nice try,” Darkyn chuckled. He grabbed her
hips, kissing her hard and leaving her breathless. He drove her
back onto the bed, pressed her down and rested on top of her.

Deidre reached for him, straining to ease
the need to taste him. Darkyn played keep away, until she was
drowning in heat, desire and the hot hunger that felt like it was
going to consume her. His solid body was on top of hers yet
unattainable. He withheld kisses and blood, refusing to sate either
of her cravings.

“Come on. Play,” he whispered into her ear.
His direct look managed to stir what part of her wasn’t already
desperate.

Near frenzied, Deidre fought to pull some
part of him close enough for her to taste. He growled in response
and nipped her neck, pushing her away roughly. He was different
than the last deity she’d slept with. Whereas Gabriel was willing
to give-and-take, Darkyn toyed with her and demanded submission in
exchange for controlled pleasure.

He alternately let her feed just enough to
drive her mad then drank from her, while he commanded her body
relentlessly. Only when he finished with her did he relent.

Panting and exhausted, Deidre couldn’t have
moved, had he not shifted to hold her against him.

“Drink,” he whispered.

Deidre let her newfound instincts guide her.
She fed. The hunger abated, and she dropped her head back to the
pillow, satisfied. Her body entwined with his, she breathed in his
scent as deeply as she could. Her mind returned now that her need
was gone, and she opened her eyes.

She drank blood. She slept with the devil.
Why wasn’t she freaking out?

“I am very satisfied with you, my little
human,” Darkyn said, his lips moving against her temple.

“I get to live another day,” she
murmured.

“Maybe two, if you please me again.”

“You’re not funny.”

“You have nothing to fear from me now.”

“Is that true?” she asked. “Like, really
true?”

“I have no need to lie to you.”

Deidre was quiet. Physically at ease with
him, she nonetheless had no idea how to talk to a lover who was
neither one she chose nor human. She couldn’t help thinking the
creature whose job it was to trick people into Hell wasn’t above
lying to the human mate he took.

“You’re not afraid I’ll try to run away?”
she asked.

“You need my blood and don’t yet understand
how to curb the hunger. If you leave, you won’t stay away long or
go far.”

Her face warmed at how desperate she’d been
for a single drop of him, to feel him inside her while his fangs
sank into her neck.

“Insurance,” she whispered, distraught.
“You’re serious about keeping me.”

“I don’t lose. I love a fight and an
absolute victory even more,” he replied.

Her eyes blurred with tears. She wiped them
away. Darkyn was quiet and still, his body relaxed for the first
time since she’d known him. He slid a pointed fingernail down her
arm. Blood bubbled up. The scratch healed itself as fast as it
formed.

“You will be able to use some of my magic,”
he said, following her gaze. “You will heal like I do. You will
have the instincts of a demon and a human. I’ve assessed that you
are vulnerable to the deception and depravity of others. In time,
the ability I’ve shared with you will enable you to determine
deception, weakness and threat from others.”

“Like a human lie detector?”

“Of sorts. You will sense without reading
minds.”

“If I had that originally, Wynn couldn’t
have almost killed me and I wouldn’t be here now,” she
murmured.

“It’s useless to dwell on what might’ve
been. What is and will be are all that matters.”

She ran her hand down his arm and side,
unable to shake the desire to saturate her senses with every part
of him. The thought of an eternity with someone incapable of caring
for her was a nightmare beyond those she had already lived. She
tried to distract the building panic.