Shadow's Claim

But pride lit Daciano’s masculine face, his green eyes aglow with it, his chest bowed.

Great. Now I have to do this thing, if only for more of that addictive look.

The glade lay ahead. She swallowed. How had she not noticed that the trunks and roots of those trees were so monstrous, that the fog was so creepy?

But the sounds were still raucous. Seize it!

The twenty-five feet were the longest of her life. Her thoughts raced, keeping pace with her frantic heartbeat: Before the rain comes the clear. Terror or beauty? Daciano is nearby. He’ll annihilate any Vrekeners. Nice picnic, nice picnic. Vrekener torture.

And then . . . she was in the glade, shoulders hunched—but still there.

“I-I made it,” she tentatively called, half disbelieving. “Out to the middle.”

“And so you did, love,” he called back. He couldn’t possibly sound prouder.

Within seconds, a break opened in the fog bank, just as she’d known it would. A downdraft of warm air dissipated the mist, as if in the eye of a hurricane. She was in the middle of a tunnel of clear.

She swallowed. Terror or beauty? With all the courage she could muster, she lifted her face.

Bettina didn’t find attackers; she saw . . . a scene from dreams.

“Vampire, you’re going to want to see—”

He was already at her side.

Above them, the nearly full moon was a silvery coin. Fireflies as big as Bettina’s hand hovered in the sky, glowing gold, leaving tracers of light. Fluorescent crimson petals spun in the gentle vortex, twinkling red lights. Glossy leaves swirled down leisurely, moonlight striking their surface. . . .

I made it here, and I was rewarded. What other rewards had she missed out on?

She felt something shifting inside her chest.

Was she ready to traipse around town by herself? Not quite. Was she healed from her fear? Uh-uh. But right now, she felt none.

And she knew she’d turned the corner toward recovering.

Daciano didn’t say anything for long moments, just seemed to marvel at the sight above them. Never looking down, he reached for her hand again, clasping it in his. “You’re lifting a film from my eyes, Bett. I never want to go back to the way I was before.”

She stopped looking at the sky, turning her attention to something just as remarkable—the vampire’s face tipped up to the moon.

So handsome she nearly lost her breath.

His eyes were heavy-lidded as he admired the scene, as if he was experiencing bliss.

Dear gods, that’s how he looks at me.

Sensing her gaze on him, he turned to stare down at her—and sure enough, his expression didn’t change.

Dalit. Again that word entered her consciousness. Lightning. In quaint old Demonish, it also meant the bolt of desire one felt—before falling in love.

Could she leave behind her feelings for Caspion and allow new ones to grow for this gorgeous, patient, brave vampire?

Words tumbled from her lips: “What would you do if I died? If I was . . . murdered?”

His brows drew together. “I don’t want to speak of that.”

“You said you’d answer any question.”

His hand squeezed hers. “Avenge you.” He pinned her gaze with his own. “Follow you.”

Her lips parted in amazement just as sultry rain began to fall.

Chapter 32

Trehan didn’t understand her sudden question, only knew that his answer had surprised her.

When she peered up at him, blinking against the drizzling rain, he sensed they were at the precipice of something and didn’t dare trace her away. Droplets shimmered over her braids like a sparkling veil, her eyes so luminous.

Her expression looked . . . lost, as if he’d done far more than admit a simple truth.

“Bettina? Why ask that—”

Two soft hands cupped his face, tugging him down. His lips met hers. Now I am lost. . . .

He looped an arm around her waist, drawing her body against his, groaning at the feel of her. Her skin was so warm, so slick beneath his hands. Their breaths mingled, the kiss deepening, rain now pouring; the night mirrored the intensity of what burned between them.

When he lifted her up against him, her slim arms closed around his neck, her long legs wrapping around his waist. He traced her to the furs, laying her down.

Between kisses, she said, “Are we about to go up to a point?”

“Almighty gods, we are!”

“Will you make me forget tomorrow?”

He drew back on his haunches. “I intend to. As long as we’re here in this place, tomorrow doesn’t factor. Just you, me, this storm.”

When he only gazed at her, she frowned. “What do you want me to do?”

“Bare yourself. Show me your pretty breasts as you did that first night.” This time, to me. Only to me.

She bit her bottom lip. “You think about that night a lot.”

“You don’t?”

With a blush, she reached behind her, untying the lace of her top. When she peered up at him for courage, he rasped, “For me?”

She removed the material, revealing perfect pale swells tipped with rosy peaks. He’d seen them before, he’d kissed them before; a groan still burst from his chest.

The corners of her red lips curled. “You . . . like them.”

“Like?” He covered one with his palm, giving a gentle squeeze. “Already I’m obsessed with them. I imagine an eternity tending to them and every inch of your ravishing little body.” He leaned in to kiss her, promising her, “Soon, Bett,” just before his lips met hers. He drank in her sweet gasp.

She met his seeking tongue, lightly swirling the tip of hers against his. He loved the way she kissed—with shy laps of her tongue, welcoming lips, and now a needy moan.

One of his shaking hands cupped the back of her head; his other eased down to unravel the ties of her skirt, pulling it free.

He broke away, but only to admire the gift he was unwrapping. “Loveliness itself,” he declared when he saw her in only a scrap of black lace.

Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he tugged her panties down her legs, leaving them around one slim ankle.

The sight of her body stole his breath. Waist so small, skin so sleek. Water drops trailed over taut limbs, delectable curves, and those pert breasts. The tiny thatch of dark curls on her mound beckoned. . . .

No, he was not a mere observer. As he raised his face to hers, he realized he couldn’t be more present, more engaged. Scents washed over him. Warm rain lingered over their heated skin. The beat of their hearts sounded in his ears.