The Darkest Passion

her toward…something. Soon she was thrashing against him, desperate for that something, willing to kill everyone in this building if she didn’t get it.

“Hurry.”

“Gods, you feel good.”

She clawed at him, hurtling over…finally over…drifting, spinning, floating, seeing stars winking over her eyes. Every muscle in her body clamped down, let go, clamped down again. It was powerful, it was moving, but all too soon it faded. Leaving her strangely shattered.

Her eyelids flickered open. She was panting. Galen was still inside her, still moving in and out. Absolute pleasure consumed every inch of his features. He must be getting close to his end, as she had done.

And she couldn’t allow that, she thought. He didn’t deserve to feel like that. Even though he’d made her feel better than she ever had before. Even though sex was her new favorite game and she planned to have it as often as possible.

“Galen,” she said, and his shocked gaze met hers. A tremor moved through her, reigniting the fire in her blood. How odd. But there was no time to enjoy another round. “See you in hell.”

With that, she sank her teeth into his neck, clamping down as he roared. A roar born of pain rather than completion. He shoved at her, trying to rip her away, but she held tight, pumping her poison deep into his vein. Only when the last drop left her did she lift her head and smile at him. He’d gone pale, almost green.

“What did you…do to me?” His knees gave out and he sank to the floor.

Silent, she hopped to her feet and dressed. Her knees trembled the entire time. Part of her wanted to stay, to ease him, but she couldn’t forget who and what he was—not again. This had to be done. For Aeron. She owed him this much, at the very least.

“I planned to take you to my man and have him kill you, but this is better. Have a nice life,” she said, and then blew Galen a kiss. “Not that it’ll last much longer.”

AERON STARED over at Lysander. The threat of decapitation had been issued, the angel’s determination unwavering. “Olivia,” he said. He hadn’t moved from beside the bed. He and Wrath were both oddly calm. “Return home. Now. Please.”

“No. No.” She threw her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek into his back. The wet warmth of her tears scalded him. “Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”

“You have caused her nothing but pain, demon,” Lysander gritted out. “You did not see her tortured at your enemy’s hand. I did. You didn’t beg her to return home to save herself the pain. I did. And why did she deny me? Because she’d made a promise to you. Because she wanted to say goodbye. Again, to you. I will not give you time to wheedle another promise from her. I will not give you another opportunity to make a mockery of my pact with you. This ends now. Today.” One moment his hands were empty, the next he clutched that sword of fire. A sword he twirled, sparks of flame crackling from it.

Not yet, Wrath cried. Not yet. We must kill Galen first.

“Lysander, no!” Olivia cried. Realizing she’d get nowhere with Aeron, she attempted to move in front of him. “Not the sword. Anything but the sword. I’m begging you.”

Reeling from the force of his guilt, Aeron pushed her back onto the bed and spread his wings to full length. He wanted this battle out of the room and away from Olivia. And there would be a battle. He wouldn’t simply lie down and die. Not yet, as his demon had reminded him. He had too much to do.

“You want me,” he told the warrior angel, “then come and get me.” With that, he launched himself out the window, breaking the glass with the force of his momentum before soaring high into the sky.

Along the way, he dropped his daggers, watching them thump harmlessly on the ground. Olivia loved Lysander. No matter what, even to save himself, Aeron wouldn’t kill the warrior. That would hurt Olivia, and Aeron vowed then and there never to do so again.

No matter the consequences.

Lysander was quick to follow. He knew because Olivia screamed, “No, Lysander. Don’t do this! Come back.”

He hated her worry, her despair. Later, if he still lived, he would soothe her. Give her anything she desired. He would also find a way to save Legion from Lucifer’s possession without having to touch her. He had to. He couldn’t give himself to any woman but Olivia. He had no illusions about that now.

She’d stayed for him. She’d endured a Hunter’s brutality for him. He would not penalize her for that.

Reward.

Always. Aeron twisted midair, and sure enough, a scowling Lysander was only a few feet away. He no longer held the sword, his hands empty but balled. The moment their gazes met, both of them stilled, hovering, not quite within striking distance.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Aeron said.

“It can be no other way. You claim to love her,” the angel snarled, “and yet you would keep her here while you bed another. You would ruin her spirit.”

“I had planned to let her go first!” But would he ever have been able to do so? He’d wanted to kill something every time he’d considered it. And when she’d wanted to go, he’d convinced her to stay a little longer. Despite the danger.

No, he never would have been able to let her go. He never would have been able to sleep with Legion.

He would have reached this decision eventually. Lysander had merely sped it along.

“I will only ever be with her,” he said with a proud tilt of his chin.

“And that’s worth continuing to allow her to put herself at risk? Do you know what the Hunters did to her?”

He shook his head, stomach clenched painfully. “No. But I saw her, saw the end results, and I will be haunted by that image for all eternity.”

“That’s not enough! Listen. And know. Stefano hit her with a closed fist, as well as an open palm. He broke her bones. Tried to drown her. She, who has not a single thread of malice inside her. And the demons, the ones she battled to reach you? They touched her in places only a lover should. But she endured it all. For you.”

Hearing that, Aeron spread his arms, face lifted to the highest part of the sky and roared. Roared with fury so potent he had never known its like. He’d known Olivia had been hurt; as he’d said, he’d seen the evidence. He’d raged even then. But now, having the details tossed at him, sharper than any blade…that rage intensified. Grew. She was so delicate, so fragile. She could have died, alone and human. Wrecked by pain.

Punish.

“Stefano will pay. By my hand.” Target, switched. End result, the same. Another vow. He’d already decided to kill anyone involved, but this…Stefano would be brought to the brink of death over and over again, only to be revived so they could start again. “The demons, too.”

PUNISH!

“I have stood back and watched all of this, helpless to stop it from happening.” Some of Lysander’s own rage seemed to cool. “I tried bargaining with you. I tried helping your cause, even distracting the gods who pulled your strings. But no longer. You will feel pain by my hand. You will suffer as my Olivia has suffered.”

Pinpricks of red dotted Aeron’s vision. “She is not your Olivia. She is mine.”

Ours. Ours to protect, ours to reward.

“For how much longer?” the angel snapped.

“Forever.”

“Don’t you understand?” Lysander shouted. “You can’t give her forever. You decided not to bed the demon Legion, only Olivia, so Lucifer will be coming for you. There’s no way around that. Your friends will die, one by one. Their demons will not be able to defeat their master. And that’s what Lucifer is to them. Master. The women will be next. Think that your woman, your human woman, will be overlooked? Only your death can fix the problems you have wrought.”

Wings flapped, a war cry sounded, and then Lysander was there, all distance between them conquered. They collided, rolling through the air. Fists hammered at him, even as his own hammered at the angel in defense. There were grunts and groans, explosions of breath. Their legs tangled, kicked.