Page 20

T he sound of Rosie's heartbeat thundered in my ears, each beat a staccato reminder of how fragile humans were.

How breakable. Even as she ran after me, calling my name with desperation in her voice, all I could focus on was the echo of her pulse, the lingering scent of fear that had rolled off her when Roger touched her.

When he dared to put his hands on what was mine .

The mating bond thrummed violently beneath my skin, demanding retribution.

My demon form pushed against the carefully constructed walls of my human disguise, wanting to break free, to show that pathetic excuse for a man what true terror felt like.

The urge to shift, to let my true nature emerge, was almost overwhelming.

I strode faster toward the edge of the property, my fingers clenched into fists so tight I could feel my nails cutting into my palms. The pain helped ground me, gave me something to focus on besides the rage still coursing through my veins.

"Aldaine!" Rosie's voice came closer. "Aldaine, wait! "

I didn't slow down. I couldn't. Not when I was this close to losing control. The manicured lawn gave way to wild forest ahead, offering darkness, solitude, a place where I could safely let my demonic nature surface without witnesses.

But she caught up to me near the old stone wall, her breathing labored from the chase. I stood rigid, unwilling to turn and face her, knowing my eyes would betray me. The mating bond pulsed between us, desperate for contact, begging me to take her in my arms and claim her properly.

"Aldaine," her voice soft, reaching for my shoulder.

I flinched away from her touch, though every fiber of my being screamed in protest. When I finally turned to face her, I kept my expression cold, distant.

But seeing her there in the moonlight, her red hair gleaming like liquid fire, her green eyes bright with concern, made maintaining that distance nearly impossible.

"You shouldn't have followed me," I growled, my voice rougher than intended.

She lifted her chin defiantly. "You shouldn't have run away."

"I wasn't running," I snapped, then closed my eyes, fighting for control as my demon form tried to surface again. When I opened them, I forced my voice to be calmer. "I was removing myself from a situation before I did something I'd regret."

"Like what? Turning Roger into a pile of ash? Because honestly, I don't think anyone would have minded."

A spark of amusement tried to break through my carefully constructed walls. She had no idea how close I'd come to doing exactly that. The memory of his hands on her, his alcohol-laden breath against her skin as he cornered her, sent another wave of possessive rage through me.

"You don't understand what happened back there, Rosie."

"Then explain it to me. "

I ran a hand through my hair, disrupting its careful styling. How could I explain that the mating bond had nearly driven me to murder? That seeing another man touch my mate had awakened something primal and vicious inside me?

"I lost control. Me. A demon who's lived for centuries, who prides himself on his control." The admission tasted bitter on my tongue. "You saw what happened. What almost happened."

"I saw you protecting me," she insisted.

"No." I cut her off sharply. "What you saw was the tip of the iceberg.

If I hadn't pulled back when I did.," I looked out into the darkness, unable to meet her trusting gaze.

"I've spent decades, no, centuries, perfecting my restraint.

One touch, one insignificant human touching what's mine, and it all unraveled. "

The possessive words slipped out before I could stop them. The mating bond hummed in approval, even as I cursed my lack of control.

"You can't scare me away that easily," she stepped closer. "I know what you are, Aldaine. I've seen your true form. I'm still here."

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You have no idea what I am, Rosie. What I'm capable of. The things I've done." I turned back to her, letting her see the coldness in my eyes. "I'm not good. I meant that. I'm dangerous, especially to you."

"Why especially to me?" she asked, her heart rate picking up.

The mating bond surged, urging me to tell her the truth. To explain why I'd reacted so violently to another man touching her, why I couldn't seem to maintain my carefully crafted control around her. For a moment, I almost did.

Instead, I locked everything down, retreating behind centuries of practiced indifference.

"I need space," my voice flat. "Go back to the party. Or to our room. I'll return when I've regained my composure."

"Aldaine, I.."

"Please." The word felt like broken glass in my throat. "Just go, Rosie."

I watched the hurt flash across her face before she masked it with dignity. "Fine. Take all the space you need."

She turned and walked away, her head high, shoulders back. Every step she took away from me felt like physical pain, the mating bond stretching thin and taut between us. But I remained still, watching her disappear into the darkness, knowing this distance was necessary.

Because the alternative was claiming her completely, binding her to me for eternity. And I couldn't do that to her. Not when she had no idea what being mated to a demon truly meant.

Not when I knew I would eventually destroy everything good in her.

The pain in my chest was excruciating as I watched Rosie's form disappear into the darkness.

Each step she took away from me felt like someone was driving a burning blade between my ribs.

The hurt I'd seen flash in those green eyes, hurt that I had caused, made me want to tear my own heart out.

If I still possessed such a human organ.

I had come dangerously close to revealing everything.

The mating bond that had snapped into place that first moment of contact.

The possessive rage that threatened to consume me whenever another man so much as looked in her direction.

The terrifying realization that after centuries of existence, I had finally found the one being in all the realms who could bring me to my knees.

The one who could destroy me completely.

"Fascinating," a cultured voice drawled from behind me. "I've lived a long time, friend, but I don't believe I've ever seen a demon in love before."

Every muscle in my body tensed as I turned to find Blackwood leaning against a nearby oak tree, a champagne flute dangling elegantly from his manicured fingers. His eyes twinkled with amusement in the darkness, like he was privy to some private joke.

"Blackwood," I acknowledged stiffly. "I didn't hear you approach."

"No, you were rather distracted." He took a deliberate sip of his champagne. "I must say, your little display back there was quite impressive. And careless."

My fingers twitched with the urge to wrap around his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do." He pushed himself away from the tree and strolled closer.

"The way you materialized across the lawn in the blink of an eye.

The way your eyes flashed that rather distinctive shade of magenta.

The way the temperature dropped ten degrees in your immediate vicinity. " He waved his free hand dismissively.

I remained silent, calculating my options. Killing him would be simplest but that would bring unwanted attention.

As if reading my thoughts, he chuckled. "Don't worry, I've taken care of it. A simple memory charm. The guests will remember a misunderstanding, nothing more. Your secret is safe."

"Why would you do that?" I was suspicious of this unexpected assistance.

"Let's call it professional courtesy," Blackwood gave a cryptic smile. "Besides, I like Miss Thompson. She deserves better than that drunken lout Roger pawing at her. "

My jaw clenched at the mention of the human who had dared touch Rosie. "You know what this means to her."

"That she's your mate?" His eyebrows rose. "Oh yes, that was quite obvious from the moment you two walked in. The way you look at her is rather touching, actually. Like she's the sun and moon and stars all rolled into one deliciously curved package."

"Don't speak about her that way," I growled, feeling my control slip again.

"See? That's exactly what I mean." Blackwood finished his champagne with a flourish. "Protective. Possessive. Willing to risk exposure to keep her safe." He paused, studying me with suddenly serious eyes. "Does she know?"

I looked away, unable to meet his knowing gaze. "No."

"And why is that, I wonder?" he mused. "Afraid she might reject you? Or afraid she might accept you, demon and all?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," my voice was cold.

"Don't I?" Blackwood set his empty glass down on the stone wall. "I did you a favor tonight, clearing up that little mess. The least you could do is be honest with yourself, if not with me."

I remained silent, staring at the path Rosie had taken back to the house. The lights in our room window had just come on. She was there now, probably hurt and confused.

"She deserves better than me," the words dragged from some hidden place deep inside me.

"Perhaps," Blackwood agreed. "But fate rarely concerns itself with what we deserve." He turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing, those memory spells are effective but easily broken. I'd suggest you get your story straight."

With that, the man walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the ache in my chest.