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each word he spoke. “And then, you were just gone. Disappearing to a place we could never touch. Leaving us to wonder if you were dead, or being tortured to the point you wished you were.”

Surcy stepped back, more aware of him than ever. “That wasn’t—“

“Now you come back into our lives and just expect, what? What is it that you want, Surcy?”

She was shocked by his anger. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know!” he repeated, closing the distance between them, his eyes burning.

“No, I don’t!” She shoved at his chest, but failed to move him. “And I don’t think you do either!”

“Is that right?” he grated out.

“Yeah,” she challenged.

He moved closer. So close that when she exhaled her breasts touched his chest. “Well, unfortunately for you, I know exactly what I want.”

And then, he kissed her. His big hand wrapped around the back of her neck and held her in place while he devoured her as if there was nothing more he needed in life.

Her body awakened. She kissed him back, clinging to the front of his shirt, pressing herself against him as he controlled their kiss.

Their mouths battled for control, moving against each other as if they had done this a thousand times before. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and a shudder wracked her body. Her own tongue slid along his, and a deep groan slipped from his lips.

One of his hands grabbed her hip, drawing her against his erection. Instead of feeling panicked, heat uncoiled within her belly. Knowing she was turning him on made her breathless.

More.

She ached to touch more of him. To unbutton his shirt and stroke the hard muscles of his chest and the chiseled planes of his belly. To unzip his pants and pull his hard length free.

She needed to have him inside her. She ground against his erection, and was satisfied when he broke their kiss and swore.

His lips moved down her neck, leaving a hot trail of fire. She turned her head, giving him access to more of her throat. She was on fire, so hot she felt as if she was burning from the inside out.

Her inner-muscles clenched and she gasped, clasping the back of his neck as he tugged her sweater to one side to suck along her shoulder. Her nipples hardened into twin points as her breasts rubbed against his chest.

What would it feel like to have his hands on her breasts? Would he use those big hands of his to cup her? She imagined his thumbs brushing her nipples. And then, to her shock, she imagined his hot mouth closing over her eager nubs.

Her hips bucked against him and she knew they had crossed a barrier and wouldn't go back. Soon she would have this big, handsome demon inside her. And somehow, she knew she would have no regrets.

When his phone buzzed in his pocket, they both froze.

He raised his head and their gazes locked. Indecision warred within his eyes.

But he reached for his phone. Sliding the screen, he stared at the message.

“What is it?” she asked, out-of-breath.

He drew back from her, clearing his throat. “They’re in trouble.”

22

Tristan closed his eyes and let his magic wash over him. In an instant, he was made of stone once more.

“What the fuck do we do?” Mark asked, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“What are those things?” the woman asked, springing from the boulder to grasp his brother’s arm.

Wordlessly, Tristan handed the girl to his brother. These creatures were Shadow Hounds, some of the most dangerous beings in existence. Their bites were poisonous to the soul, ensuring that when a person died, they would be gone forever.

There was only one thing that could be done. Mark had to live. He was the only person who could find the other gods and goddesses. And the goddess and her child must live. Only one thing made sense.

“Take them and go.”

Mark stiffened. “No.”

“You know it’s the only way.”

The eyes moved in the dark, coming closer.

“You always say that,” Mark whispered.

“And I’m always right.”

His brother took a step back, clutching the sleeping girl to his chest. “Can they hurt you?”

“No.” Tristan spoke the lie with ease.

Mark nodded. “Then, I’ll take them and come back for you.”

Goodbye, my brother.

“Stay close,” Mark told the woman.

She nodded and they moved backwards.

Tristan stretched out his massive stone wings to their full spread and let loose the roar of a gargoyle, a sound that was ancient and harsh. Dark birds exploded from the trees all around them, filling the bright night sky. His distraction did the trick. All eyes were on him. Mark and the woman shuffled away unseen.

When the first creature stepped out of the shadows, Tristan stared at the dark wisp with two brilliant red eyes. Suddenly, he spotted a flash of sharp teeth forming in the insubstantial body. When it leapt at him, he easily knocked it back with his wings.

The creature whimpered like a dog, but Tristan had no time to relax because two more of the beasts came at him. He ducked, struck one with his wing and the other with his fist. Both flew back. One hit a trunk with a satisfying crunch.

But he already knew. There was no destroying these beings. All he could do was fight as long as possible.

He would fight until he took his last breath, and give Mark and the goddess the time they needed to reach the sanctuary.

As the Shadow Hounds renewed their attack, Tristan's thoughts shifted to his long life. He thought of his birth, when a frightened woman created him from stone. Her fear of the vampires that preyed upon her town drove her to make him, but it was her love for her family that brought him to life.

Many years passed when he provided protection to the small town. But times shifted and he spent more and more time as a stone figure, no longer taking interest in life. When the small girl’s terrified screams brought him back to

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