Angelique was right on Ryder’s heals, weapon in hand.
“I’m alive.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Ryder asked.
“I have a lot to explain,” Dalton said. “But to Isabelle first.” Dalton put his arm around her. “I need to talk to her. Alone.”
Shaking, her mind awhirl with questions, Isabelle cast a pleading gaze to her sister. “Please.”
“Just give us tonight. I’ll meet with all of you in the morning.”
Ryder nodded. “We’ll head up to the house. I’ll let them know you’re alive. First thing in the morning you can come talk to Michael.”
“Thanks,” Dalton said.
They walked Ryder and Angelique to the front door, and Dalton turned the lock, then flipped the lights off, taking Isabelle to the sofa.
“I’m sorry about scaring you.”
She didn’t care about that. She kissed him, unable to believe he was there, alive. But his touch, his taste, it was all him, and she couldn’t get enough. Not when she had thought she’d never see him again. Her fingers tangled in the thick silkiness of his hair, then roamed down over the corded strength of his neck, his shoulders, his arms. And the way his mouth moved over hers, devouring it like he hadn’t seen her in years, proved he was just as happy to see her. Reluctantly, she pulled away.
“What happened with the Archangel?”
He dragged his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. When I disappeared there was nothing but a black void. I thought for sure the Archangel had granted my wish and I was going to be given over to the Sons of Darkness.”
“My demon is gone. I don’t feel it anymore.”
He grinned. “I know. The Archangel suddenly appeared before me and told me our dual wishes for self- sacrifice were so sweet it was like a sugar overdose. Then he gave me a choice.”
“What kind of choice?”
“Redemption or humanity.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips, too afraid to ask, but too curious not to. “What did you choose?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Her stomach fell. “Oh, God, Dalton. You gave up redemption.”
“You were willing to trade your life for mine,” he reminded her.
She shrugged. “I’m half demon. The Sons of Darkness were after me. What kind of life is that? You were an angel.”
“A fallen one.”
She laid her palm against his jaw. “An angel, Dalton. I’m nothing compared to that.”
“Apparently the Archangel disagreed, because he didn’t accept your offer to die. Or mine, either, for that matter. And I chose humanity because I wanted to be with you, because I love you. What good would redemption be if I’m miserable? I’d just screw it up again and end up damned.”
Tears filled her eyes. She’d never been weepy before, but lately she’d been such an emotional basket case. “I love you. I can’t believe you did this for me. And the demon blood in me is …”
“It’s gone, Isabelle. You won’t have to fight the demon side of yourself any longer. The Sons of Darkness will have no use for you.”
She felt as if a giant weight had lifted off her. For someone who had thought so little of herself for so long, she suddenly felt like she might actually deserve this happiness after all.
“So you’re human?”
His brows lifted and he smiled. “Totally.”
She warmed at the thought and leaned against him. “I really like the sound of that. I can’t begin to tell you how I fell apart when you disappeared. It was like a part of me died.”
He sobered at her words. “I’m sorry. I know. I felt the same way. It hurt to leave you. And then I suddenly appeared back at the circle in the woods with the Archangel, and he explained things to me and gave me my choice. I figured you’d end up back here, and I really wanted some time alone with you first before explaining things to the rest of them.”
“As soon as you disappeared, this is where I wanted to be.”
“We’re attached, Isabelle. Physically as well as spiritually. You’ll never be able to go far from me without me knowing where you are, without me calling to you without saying a word.”
She welled up with so much emotion she couldn’t speak. She leaned closer to him, still too raw to believe he was really there, that he wasn’t going to be ripped away from her at any moment.
He tipped her chin up with his finger and placed his mouth on hers, and everything was right in her world again. One kiss, and he placed his stamp on her, that utterly sweet and possessive mark that said she belonged to him. The way he kissed her was amazing and powerful, so tender and yet so demanding at the same time, crushing her against him in such a definite way that told her in no uncertain terms that she was his and always would be. She had never felt loved like that before-this was what had been missing from her life, what she had craved and what she would never do without again. This feeling of being whole because she was being held and kissed by someone who truly loved her, truly knew her, and accepted her for who she was.
She kissed him back, accepting the man he was now, loving him because he was strong, because he was willing to give up his life for hers. And because she knew that asked right now or fifty years from now, she would still be willing to lay down her life for him.
The power of love was an amazing thing. It strengthened all her weaknesses, and provided her the ability to give strength to others. She never knew this kind of ability existed before she met Dalton. She had so much to thank him for.
“I need to make love to you, Isabelle. I don’t want to waste a minute of time with you.”
She smiled up at him, content to look at his beautiful face every day for the rest of her life. “I’m fine with waiting to explain to the others why you’re still alive.”
He pulled her to stand, took one step back, and began unbuttoning her dress. She was amazed that she could still feel butterflies in her stomach as his knuckles brushed against her breast, as if each moment was like the very first time he touched her. She watched as he slowly, painstakingly, undid each button, keeping his gaze riveted on her face as he did, knowing it was driving them both crazy to wait. When he drew the material apart and reached inside with his hands to surround her waist, her stomach jumped at the contact.
Dalton smiled. “I love the feel of your skin against my hand, how rough I am and how soft you are.”
She took his hands and lifted them to her breasts. “I like you rough.”
He took the piercings between his fingers and tugged on them. Isabelle tilted her head back, letting the sensations tingle through her nerve endings before looking up at him again. “I love when you do that.”
He smiled. “I know.” He arched her over one arm, then took a nipple into his mouth, taking the silver ring in his teeth and torturing her further, before sucking her nipple with a long, deep draw that made her whimper and reach for him. She dragged her nails down his arm, hard, and he rewarded her by biting lightly on her nipple.
Maybe they both just needed to feel alive, to know that this was real, but their touch, their tasting of each other was fierce, not gentle. It seemed to be what they both wanted, what they each needed.
Dalton straightened her and stripped her dress off, following the fabric with his mouth, his teeth, licking her ribs, biting her hip, scratching his fingers down her legs and then holding her while she stepped out of the dress. Then he shouldered her legs apart and buried his face at her sex, sliding his tongue between her throbbing lips and tantalizing her with every stroke, every light suck, mastering her body the way he’d mastered her heart.
She shuddered against him, shocked at how quickly he could bring her to the edge of orgasm, but she couldn’t-didn’t want to hold back-she was too filled with joy, with pent-up passion for this man she loved so much. They’d been given a second chance and she was ready to burst with desire.
He dug his fingers into her buttocks, demanding what only she could give him, and she did, crying out, tilting her hips toward him and giving him everything as she came. He licked her gently over and over again while she trembled against the wash of madness. Then he raised up, stripped off his clothes and drew her down with him to the sofa, taking her mouth in a deep kiss.
Isabelle was lost in the heat of his body, the rasp of his legs against hers as he positioned himself
