When Darkness Ends (Guardians of Eternity #12)(45)

Rage ripped through him.

He wanted to yank her into his arms. To kiss her until her pale cheeks were flushed and he’d replaced the scent of the damned fairy prince with his own. Territorial? Hell, yes.

Unfortunately he couldn’t risk touching her. Not when he continued to vibrate with the savage need to tear apart the male who had dared to try to take her away.

Instead he was forced to watch her stand in the center of the hallway, her golden hair tumbled around her shoulders and her amber eyes wide with a distress that sliced through his heart.

She looked like a lost waif.

It was . . . unbearable.

He stepped to stand close enough to feel her intoxicating heat wrap around him, easing the frigid fury that had nearly sent him over the edge.

“Fallon?”

“He’s playing his own game,” she said, her voice distracted.

Cyn didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that.

“Who’s playing a game?” he demanded.

“My ex-fiancé.” She gave a slow shake of her head. “Styx is powerful, but Magnus possesses the magic of royals.”

Belatedly Cyn recalled Roke telling him about Sariel’s ability to fry the Nebule demon to a gooey tar. He’d said that it’d destroyed everything in its path. He’d also admitted that it was a talent that his mate, Sally, had inherited.

It’d never occurred to him that Fallon might have the same dangerous power.

Bloody hell, he was lucky not to be a smudge on the floor.

“The burst of light?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her expression remained absent, as if she was pondering some deep thought. “It’s lethal to most demons.”

“He’s not stupid.” Cyn shrugged. Magnus might have all sorts of fairy magic, but it wouldn’t protect him if he harmed Styx. “If he’d killed the Anasso there would be nowhere he could hide from us. We would destroy him.”

She continued to study that empty spot where Magnus had disappeared. “Still, he could have used his magic to disable Styx long enough for him to escape. So why would he have let himself be forced back to the king’s lair?” The question wasn’t directed at him. Hell, he wasn’t sure she was even aware he was around. “And why didn’t he try to force me home? It was almost as if he was hoping I would break our engagement.”

A rational part of him knew that Fallon was right to be concerned if her prick of an ex-fiancé was acting out of character. But he wasn’t in the mood to hear another word about the glorious, f*cking golden prince.

He’d been to the edge of death, and before he could fully recover, he’d been driven into a berserker frenzy. Who could blame him for being a little twitchy?

“Is he a threat?” was the only thing he wanted to know.

“No.”

Satisfied, he crowded her against the wall, using his larger size to keep her trapped. “Then forget about him.”

He heard her breath catch in her throat, her heart thundering, but her expression remained troubled.

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.

His fingers tangled in her hair, his voice coming out as a rough growl. “You told me that you didn’t love him.”

“I don’t.”

Something dangerous eased in his chest as he allowed his fingers to lightly stroke through the satin strands.

“Then why are you upset?”

“I’m going to be shunned.”

He grimaced. He didn’t know the ins and outs of fairy society—thank God—but he did know that any demon would be traumatized at being disowned by their people. Even vampires who could be solitary creatures instinctively created clans. It wasn’t just a need for protection, but a sense of belonging.

To have that torn away because she felt it was her duty to use her skills to halt a looming genocide must feel like the worst sort of betrayal.

Someday he intended to beat the shit out of Prince Magnus and King Sariel for daring to treat this exquisite creature with anything less than utter devotion. But for now he couldn’t deny that their stupidity played directly into his hands.

“Does that mean you can’t return to your homeland?” he asked, his fingers sliding from her hair to outline the faintly pointed tip of her ear.

She was such a fairy.

Licking her lips, Fallon visibly struggled to concentrate even as the warm scent of champagne drenched the air.

“I can return, but I will no longer be allowed to attend any social functions or to be seated with my family during meals. It will be . . . difficult.”

His hand glided down to cup her jaw so he could tilt back her head.

“Stay,” he said.

She stilled, an unmistakable yearning darkening her wide eyes before she was hurriedly trying to disguise her vulnerable reaction. Her life among the Chatri had taught her not to reveal her deepest desires.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why is it ridiculous?”

“You’ve been trying to get rid of me since I—”

He brought an end to her argument by the simple process of covering her mouth with his own.

Bloody hell.

She was right. He should be encouraging her to kiss and make up with her stupid fiancé so she could return to fairyland. She was in danger here.