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In her three hundred years no one—human, vampire, or otherworld—had awoken such longing, such need.
She’d known instinctively that he was the one man who could break her—the one she could love. But he wasn’t vampire. It was forbidden.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked once more.
“Why are you here?” she countered. “Who sent you?” She needed to keep him off balance.
Declan was breathing hard and nudged his knee between her legs as he leaned toward her. Energy flowed from his fingers and rolled over her skin. She smelled the heavy magick that clung to him and heard the blood rushing through his veins.
God, it was sweet, tantalizing.
She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the steady pulse at the base of his neck. And yet she immediately envisioned her lips against him, her teeth breaking skin, and her tongue lapping at the sweet nectar below his flesh.
Declan called to her basest nature, and her fangs throbbed painfully. Her eyes flew open and her gaze traveled over his handsome face. The dark eyes, square jaw, and full lips hadn’t changed at all.
She needed to be away from him. He was a distraction she couldn’t afford.
His hand tightened around her throat, just enough to cause pain. “Why did the boy call you Ana? She’s dead.”
She glared up at him, opened her mouth, but couldn’t answer until he relieved the pressure. Slowly her fangs receded and she hissed, “Are you that dense, Declan? Did Hell fry your brains? Bill not doling out enough vitamins or what?”
His grip loosened for just a second and she grabbed the opportunity. Ana head butted him, hard, and brought her knees up sharply, smiling as she connected solidly between his legs.
Declan cursed and she kicked out once more, rolling to the side, and was up on her feet facing him in less than a second.
He glared at her as she continued to smile. “It’s not possible.” He spat.
“Really?” Ana was annoyed. “After everything you’ve been through, you would question the fact that I’m not rotting beneath the ground?” How could he not know she was the real deal? “You spent six months in the Hell realm and came back. Why do you find it so hard to believe that I managed my own miracle?”
Long moments of silence passed between the two of them.
His eyes were like liquid licorice. She’d always loved that.
“How are you alive?” he asked. She could tell he was wavering, on the cusp of belief.
Ana clenched her hands as she wondered how much to share.
“Freaky mojo, I suppose.” She stared up at her home and her lips thinned as she spied Kaden watching from the upper level. “We’re all players in a game much bigger than either of us can imagine. I was presented with an offer, life and servitude to a new master, or eternal death.”
Ana turned back to Declan. “I chose life.” She shrugged. “Well, my version of it anyway.”
Declan moved toward her until he stood so close his warm breath touched her face. He stared down at her, and when his hand rose in the air she tensed. Not because she was afraid he’d hurt her—that would be easy to deal with. Physical pain at its most basic level was one-dimensional.
It was the other, the emotional pain that was hard to live with. It fragmented and grew until it became a monster. Hell, she’d done her best to avoid it for decades.
And yet as she stared up at him, her gut clenched tightly, she wondered if it would be worth it. To have the one thing she’d desired for so long . . . if only for this one moment.
His hand hovered, a whisper away from her cheek, and Ana’s breath caught in the back of her throat. Her mouth went dry as her gaze focused on his lips.
It had been so long since she’d been touched. Her last lover, Diego, had died fifteen years earlier. There’d been no one since. What was the point?
If only his scent wasn’t so enticing. So far she’d been playing nice. Declan had no clue of the strength that lay beneath her small frame.
Ana groaned softly. She could do it. Take a drink.
Would that be so bad?
His eyes dilated until they were huge, round balls of ebony. He bent lower, so low that she could have opened her mouth and touched him with her tongue.
