She watched him with glittering eyes. “Deep down, I knew you’d be like this.”
“Like this?” He lifted his shirt overhead and dropped the material to the floor.
“Mmm-hmm.” Passion painted her flesh with a rosy flush. “Irresistibly demanding.”
“Oh, you knew it, did you?” He undid the button on his leathers. “How often did you ponder this phenomenon?”
“Too often,” she grumbled.
He gave a rusty chuckle filled with more strain than amusement. “That’s good. Because I have never stopped thinking of you. And Lyla? I will demandmanythings from you.”
Here, now, only one question remained. Where should he start? Instincts shoutedrushwhile begging forslow.
Roux dragged his gaze down her curves, setting off a chain reaction of sensations. His blood burned hot, nothing but fuel. Energy pumped into muscles. Sweat glazed him, and ferocity whipped at his back.
“My Lyla is a prize among prizes.” Strands of inky hair clung to her rain-dotted skin. A pulse raced at the base of her throat. The rise and fall of her bare chest left his insides clenching.
Where the skirt parted...
The moisture in his mouth dried, and he wiped a palm over his face. “No one compares to you,” he croaked, throbbing for her.
“How do you know?” Remaining reclined on one elbow, she stroked a tiny claw around her navel. “I’m your first.”
“Yes, but I’m thousands of years old.” And then some. “I’ve seen much. Trust me when I say you are my favorite sight in all the worlds.” His favoriteeverything.
She entranced him with a sensual smile. “I want to see you, too.” Her gaze dropped to his zipper, and she licked her lips.
A hoarse sound brewed at the edge of his tongue. As the storm intensified outside, reaching a new pinnacle, obscuring the siren’s song, he slowly opened the metal teeth. “Is there something specific you’d like to see, harpy?” To bare himself to her...to remove all barriers between them...
“Very much so. I—wait. Hold up.” A frown pulled at the corners of her mouth. She shook her head. “This isn’t right. Something about this is wrong.”
A denial threatened to detonate. But she wasn’t wrong. Fighting for air, he dropped his arms to his sides. The most difficult action he’d ever completed. In that moment, however, he comprehended the problem—the siren’s song.
He growled with more force. Without the tantalizing melody filling his ears and clouding his judgment, reason bombarded his mind in a rush. With reason came recognition. Fury pitched and swelled, fast and hard.
Now he understood the smug satisfaction every member of the welcome party had exhibited. The treacherous group had decided to bring Roux and Blythe together. Why? To introduce him to the pleasure he’d been missing all his life? Because mission accomplished. Now he knew what the harphantom tasted like. He’d glimpsed the rapture awaiting him in her arms. He could never be satisfied without her.
“The siren dies today,” he hissed.
“She diesbadly.” Eyes as black as night, Blythe jolted upright, refashioned her vest as best she could, then smoothed her skirt, blocking his gaze from the lushest, sexiest, most exquisite view he’d ever come across. Another reason to rage.
How was he supposed to keep his hands off her now?
“Allow me to do the honors.” She jumped from the bed and darted around him, lacking her usual grace. Her motions were clipped, her legs trembly.
A small mercy, he supposed. He hadn’t left her unaffected.
After swiping up his bow and fishing two arrows from the quiver, she stomped to the window, aimed, and released a double shot. Roux flashed behind her as the missiles sliced through the siren. One dead center in her mouth, the other dead center in her throat. Both silenced her for good.
“There. Problem solved.” To the others, Blythe shouted, “Anyone else want to join the choir?”
The rain lightened as the welcome party rushed over to circle the fallen immortal. Comprehending what had happened, they glared up at Blythe and Roux. It was only then, as the countdown clock in the back of his mind ran out, that he pieced together the crux of their plan.
They knew about his bargain with Penelope. They’d hoped to make him miss today’s feeding, giving the wraith a reason to drain the harpy.Craftier than I realized.
Other females stopped partying to frown at their mugs, as if they weren’t sure why they held a mug filled with a mix of brew and rain in the first place. Other victims of the siren’s song, meant to drink themselves into a stupor before tomorrow’s battle?
Roux turned on his heel. “I must go,” he told Blythe. He flashed to his discarded shirt, donned the material, and amended his pants.