Page 2

"Fine, Tomas," she calls back, never taking her eyes off me. "Our visitor was just leaving."
I make an elaborate show of looking around the shop one more time. "Pity. I was hoping to contribute to the clearly thriving local economy." I lean in, lowering my voice. "But perhaps I'll return when you're feeling more... hospitable."
"Don't hold your breath." She steps back and points to the door. "Out."
I move to the doorway, pausing with my hand on the frame. "Until we meet again, Ronnie."
"We won't." Her jaw is set, but there's a tremor in her voice that betrays her.
I spread my wings slightly, letting sunlight catch the silver flecks scattered among the gray. "The universe has a way of bringing together those who leave an impression on each other." I wink. "And you, fierce one, have definitely left an impression."
The sun dipsbehind the mountains as I wait outside Ronnie's shop, leaning against the weathered stone wall. I've spent the afternoon familiarizing myself with this forgettable village, learning that the fiery shopkeeper is something of a local fixture—respected but solitary, known for her sharp tongue and sharper business sense.
Perfect. I do enjoy a challenge.
The shop door finally swings open as she steps out, locking it behind her. She's changed from her work clothes into a simple dark tunic and pants, practical but doing nothing to hide the curves beneath. Her hair falls loose now, a curtain of deep auburn catching the last golden rays of sunset. The sight stirs something primal in me.
When she turns and spots me, her expression hardens instantly. "You've got to be kidding me."
I push off the wall with languid grace, wings shifting slightly behind me. "Evening, fierce one."
"Do you make a habit of stalking women who've rejected you?" She clutches her key tighter, knuckles whitening.
"Rejected?" I laugh, the sound rolling through the empty street. "You can't reject what wasn't offered. I merely wanted water earlier. Now I want something else."
Her eyes narrow as I step closer. "Stay away from me, xaphan."
"My name is Araton." I move closer still, enjoying how she refuses to back away despite the tension radiating from her body. "And I'm not going anywhere until I get what I came for."
"Which is what, exactly?"
"You." The word hangs between us, blunt and unapologetic.
She actually laughs, a harsh sound without humor. "I hate everything you represent. Everything you are."
I reach her now, close enough to see the rapid pulse at her throat, to count the freckles scattered across her nose. "I'm notafter your heart, Ronnie." My voice drops lower, edged with hunger. "You can hate me with every breath while I fuck you. In fact, I might prefer it that way."
Her breath catches, eyes widening as color floods her cheeks. "You're disgusting."
"And you're aroused." I reach up, tracing one finger along her jawline. "Your pupils are dilated. Your breathing's shallow. You haven't run, though you've had every chance."
"Don't touch me." But she doesn't move away.
Something shifts in me, patience giving way to a darker hunger. In one fluid movement, I crowd her against the wall of her shop, wings spreading slightly to block the view from the street. One hand braces beside her head while the other grips her hip, fingers digging into the flesh there.
"Tell me to leave," I growl, my face inches from hers. "Say the words like you mean them, and I'll go."
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, gray eyes blazing with conflict. "I hate you," she whispers instead.
"Not what I asked." My grip tightens and I press closer, letting her feel exactly what effect she's having on me. "Do you want me to leave, Ronnie?"
Her hands come up to my chest, neither pushing me away nor pulling me closer. They just rest there, burning through the thin fabric of my tunic. I can feel her trembling, torn between desire and what sounds like years of learned resentment.
"I should," she breathes. "Any sane person would."
"Sanity's overrated." I lower my head until my lips hover just above hers. "Last chance to send me away."
Instead of answering, she surges forward, closing the final distance between us. Her mouth crashes against mine, all fury and hunger and pent-up need. The kiss is nothing like the practiced, elegant affairs I'm accustomed to with xaphanwomen. This is raw, almost violent, her teeth catching my lower lip hard enough to sting.