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Or…maybe being locked in a hopeless situation was the key to his redemption. For Davian’s military undertaking had gotten completely out of hand because he’d made too good a ruler in the demonic world. And was now strapped with the moral consequences for the rest of his eternity.
Was his torment meant to be the catalyst for some sort of restitution and restoration that encompassed more than simply keeping the peace?
His hand dropped from Morgan’s shoulder. He moved away, turning his back on his friend. Perhaps what had been set into motion had a specific purpose in this new world.
Davian said, “It’s possible the die has already been cast. Leave Jade be for now.”
* * *
Jade was not followed home that night. An
d while it came as a relief, it also struck her as odd. She’d grown accustomed to the mysterious stalker. It had never been a comforting presence, yet there had been something alluring about not being all alone in the woods of Ryleigh, given she’d felt alone the majority of her life. A point Michael had successfully made this evening.
As she entered the cottage and slid the wide, heavy-metal latch into place on the door, she wondered who’d been outside the tavern, watching her. And why. While she fanned the flames of the low-burning fire in her living room, she considered the possibilities. Was she being stalked for the inevitable purpose of being preyed upon? Or had the Demon King sent one of his wraiths to spy on her?
She would concede she had abilities that might draw speculation and concern from the king. But Jade had never used any of her natural powers in front of another and had told no one of what she was capable. Not even Lisette.
From the time Jade was a little girl, she could skillfully move objects with her mind. Her psychokinesis had alarmed her at first—what normal person could do such a thing?
But then she’d witnessed her father, Liam, moving his pipe from the mantle to his hand without ever getting out of his chair. The “gift” they both possessed had been their shared secret. Never to be revealed to anyone else. Never to be used in front of another, including Jade’s mother.
There was a second gift Jade had discovered when she’d fallen from a horse and had broken several bones. Those bones had healed at such an accelerated rate, her father had insisted he be the only one to tend to her. With instruction from the local physician to straighten her limbs so they set correctly, Jade’s father stayed by her side while her body repaired itself.
He’d had to backtrack and announce he’d been overly dramatic in his assessment of her injuries—so overcome with fear and grief, he’d assumed the worst—when, instead, she’d merely had the wind knocked out of her and that had made it impossible for her to move, causing Michael, who’d been riding with her, to seek help from Liam. Given her father’s principal position within the village, and Jade’s expeditious recovery, the lie had not been questioned.
Recently, Jade had added a third specialty to her obscure talents. The ability to sense an evil entity when it skulked along the periphery.
Convinced she still wasn’t under observation at the moment, she ducked into her bathroom and splashed water on her face from the glass basin sitting on the vanity, then dabbed at her wet skin with a towel. The plumbing was akin to that in a rural cabin with a septic tank buried in the side yard.
She changed into a pewter-colored flannel nightgown and built a small fire in the hearth in her bedroom before slipping under the covers. It had been a busy night at the tavern. That, combined with her tribulations, left her exhausted. She was asleep within minutes.
But her overactive mind did not rest. Jade dreamed of Michael. A mental vision she hadn’t conjured in a year or two. Her subconscious homed in on his earlier lean-in and what might have happened had the demon on the horse not interrupted them.
In Jade’s reverie, Michael’s lips brushed hers. A tentative kiss full of uncertainty, yet laced with desire. The street corner melted away and the images playing in Jade’s head were of her and Michael lying naked in her bed, his body covering hers. Her hands roamed his back and she writhed beneath him.
It had been eight long years since Jade had been with this man—the only man she’d ever been with—and her base need for intimacy was more acute than ever, given her close encounter with him this evening.
She yearned for a deep, sizzling kiss. To feel him inside her.
She whispered, “Make love to me.”
“Yes,” he murmured.
Though it wasn’t Michael’s voice she heard.
The dream took a wayward turn as a thick shaft slowly penetrated her aching pussy. Jade’s body moved with the stranger’s as he filled and stretched her. His features morphed from Michael’s athletic physique to an even more muscular one. Wider shoulders, larger biceps, stronger back.
He was a mammoth of a man, in every way. Jade’s inner walls clenched his hard cock as their hips undulated in a languid, sexy rhythm. Her palms moved over his sinewy backside and cupped his ass, as much as her hands could manage, because he was huge from head to toe.
She couldn’t see his face, given that it was burrowed in the crook of her neck. His mouth was on her throat and he nipped at her flesh, then soothed the love bites with his teasing tongue and warm lips.
One hand caressed her breast, and her body responded ardently to the tender massaging and the sweeping of the pad of his thumb over her puckered nipple. Back and forth. Pebbling the sensitive bead tighter.
Jade moaned and it seemed to encourage him. He thrust into her more aggressively, driving deep, hitting all the right spots along the way.
Her spine arched in her need to get closer to him. She dragged a hand from his backside and wove her fingers through his lush, obsidian hair. The tension pulled taut within her and mixed with the searing desire flooding her veins.
“You feel so good,” she told him.
