The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(101)

He couldn't give her up; he simply could not do it. She was more important to him than his lungs or his limbs. He was nothing without her. He would keep her. She'd inflicted pain, yet she was still his Danika, still his angel. Good and pure and right. Oh, yes, he would keep her.

The decision unleashed a torrent of joy inside him, so sweet he surged into her, his thumb finding and flicking against her clitoris. That's all she needed to hurtle over the edge.

"Reyes!"

"Angel, my angel." He came just as powerfully as before, rolling her over and fusing their mouths, his tongue thrusting deep. He stayed with her this time, and he suspected the bond between them was too strong to allow him through any portal.

Suddenly a blade sank into his back. Not put there by Danika, whose hands were tangled in his hair. He shouted in shock and jerked from the kiss, his head turning.

Aeron stood beside the bed, his wings spread, his eyes glowing crimson. That knife had been meant for Danika.

PARIS DROPPED TO HIS KNEES. He'd left the warriors in the entertainment room when a sense of urgency had filled him, the god king's whisper of "Now" echoing in his mind. He'd strode to his bedroom, knowing he had to at last make a decision.

It was time. He couldn't wait any longer. He felt torn apart, raw.

Now he raised his blade high in the air, shouting, "Cronus, Lord Titan, I am here as you bade me." As he spoke, he slashed the knife over his chest. Deep, as deep as he could get it. Skin ripped, organs tore and blood gushed.

The pain was severe, and he nearly doubled over. But he had to prove his determination. He'd already slept with two women today. Two women he couldn't even recall, and one he had bedded only an hour before. He was sick of it. So sick.

He had spent these last few days thinking. It's all he ever did anymore. What a novelty that was for a man who had spent too many centuries to count giving in to his body and shutting down his mind. Now his mind was a constant swirl of questions and possibilities. Aeron or Sienna.

"Cronus, I beg you. Appear. One more audience, that's all I need. I - "

"Am shouting unnecessarily," the god king said behind him. The scent of stars instantly filled the room. A hum of power charged the air, raising the fine hairs on Paris's arms.

Though he wanted to, he didn't turn and look at his guest. He bowed his head reverently, assuming the position of a servant. He hadn't decided if this sovereign truly meant him ill or if Cronus was as confused about the Lords of the Underworld as they were about the gods.

He was unsure, tentative, but he planned to proceed as if the latter were true.

"Before I make my decision, I have questions for you," he said. "If it would please you, I would ask them."

"I have wondered about you many times, demon. You and your desires have presented a mystery I am determined to solve." The thump of sandals, the swish of cloth, and then Cronus was standing in front of him. "Ask."

"If I chose Sienna, would I merely receive her rotting corpse?"

A warm chuckle of true amusement echoed. "So suspicious. That is something the Greeks would have done, I am sure, wily bastards that they were. But I am a more generous soul. From me, you would receive her just as she once was. For you, she will look the same, speak the same. She will not simply be a talking dead body. She will have a heart, and it will beat."

For you.

The words echoed through his mind and he frowned. Did those two little words have significance or was he simply looking for hidden meaning where there was none? The gods had been known throughout the ages for their tricky natures. Wily bastards, Cronus had said about the Greeks, but Paris would bet the Titans were no different.

Still, he pressed on. "Would she hate me as she did before?"

Another chuckle filled his ears as fingers stroked the back of his neck. They were gentle, yet emitted a strong pulse of energy that sped his heart into an erratic rumble. "Of course she would hate you. She is a Hunter. You are a Lord. But I am sure, Promiscuity, that you can charm her into love."

Could he?

And was having her back worth the guilt he would feel at not saving Aeron when he had the chance? Reyes seemed to think so, for he couldn't keep his hands off the woman Aeron was desperate to destroy.

Paris slowly lifted his head, and his gaze met Cronus's. The king's expression was blank, seemingly uncaring. Damn it! What should he do?

DANIKA SCREAMED as Reyes leapt away from her and tackled - Aeron, she realized, wide-eyed. Terror sprouted inside her and quickly spread its limbs. She scrambled backward on the bed, the cold headboard soon pressing into her back. What the hell should I do?

The two men rolled on the floor, punching, tearing at each other's skin, biting and snarling like animals. Aeron repeatedly slashed at Reyes's neck, screaming that Reyes's head would soon roll. Twice he made contact, causing the side of Reyes's throat to bleed profusely.

Reyes was already weak. She'd stabbed him only minutes before, for God's sake. Her knife. Yes. That's what she needed. Where the hell was her knife?

Her gaze scanned...there, on the floor. So close, so far. Last time this had happened, Aeron had knocked her down and she'd stayed down. Reyes had saved her, but he'd taken a beating for his efforts. This time, she wouldn't passively watch, wouldn't run away. She would help. She'd trained to help.

She inched off the mattress as the two men sprang apart, circling each other, panting.