Davina (Davy Harwood #3)

As if she had cast a spell onto herself, the battle melted away. It was only this vampire and herself . . . She drew closer.

Her hand slid down to the side of his mouth, and she was directly in front of him. She stood on tiptoes—her breath held—she needed to feel this man again. Then, with her heart pounding to be freed from her chest, she touched her lips to his. It was soft. This was foreign to her, but the human inside wanted more. She demanded a harder touch, and Davy found herself answering. She pressed closer to him, and as she did, he felt her.

Her eyes widened, as she knew the instant he grew aware of her.

His hands grasped her arms. He stiffened in shock, and just as she feared he would pull away, he took control of the kiss. He caught the sides of her face and moved for a better angle to meet her. He breathed against her mouth, “Davina.”

She didn’t reply. She closed her eyes and sighed inwardly as he grasped her in his arms. Lifting her, her legs wound around his waist, and he stepped away from the fight. “Davina,” he gasped again, but then he pressed her against a tree. “My God—I don’t care.” His mouth opened, demanding hers to do the same and his tongue slid inside. The brush of him against her was a caress and Davy wound her arms around his neck. She arched her back into the tree, pushing her breasts toward him. She hungered for more. She wanted his touch in the center of her. The human was clambering to get closer and Davy answered.

Her hands went to the side of his face and held him.

He kept kissing her. He was claiming her.

Me. He was claiming me . . .

“No!” The Immortal rose up. “You cannot have her!”

The Immortal slammed her backwards.

“Davy!” Roane roared, moving with her. He didn’t know how she came to him. He didn’t care to question it, but he had her. He wanted her back. He had to have her. Whatever was going on inside of her, he needed to grasp her. He had to be her anchor. He could tell that she was losing herself. He reached out for her and Davy tried to grasp his hand, but The Immortal growled, and broke through the barrier inside of Davy.

She gasped.

The power was immense. It spilled out inside of her, coating her insides with its power. It was a burst of cold air. It felt alien, but refreshing, and then it was over. As soon the floodgates opened, she was drowning. There was no chance of a fight inside of her. The power overwhelmed her, instantly suffocating her. Davy was gone. She had lost. The Immortal was free inside of her—her body bent in half. Her back arched upward, and as it did, her body flew in the air.

She flew.

Her entire body transformed. Her body was going up in the air, flying, and her hair billowed out, turning into a black color. A white dress covered her now, and her hands flung backwards. She pushed up into the sky, going higher and higher until she was above the entire foray below.

All of them stopped. The woman in white had taken over the battle, but as Roane watched, she stopped in mid-air and looked down.

A rumbling started in the distance.

Everyone stopped.





THE IMMORTAL


This was her world.

The Immortal relished this sudden experience. She was free. She was alive. She was in control and she gazed down upon the war beneath her. Simpletons. The lot of them. All of them were weak. She wrinkled her nose. Here she was in the air and looking down on them. She was above them.

She was a god to them.

She couldn’t believe this was the world Davy honored above everything else. She wanted to be one of those weaklings. No. It was worse. These creatures were more powerful than humans. Davy wanted to be the lowest of the beings.

Never.

Determination coursed through her and as she gazed beneath her, The Immortal’s hands formed into fists. She would never be replaced. The human in her would never become human again. Davy’s destiny was linked with hers. She would not allow it. She would never go back into the shell, contained as a thread, jumping from one less than worthy human to another. All of them. They were all stupid. Everything they believed was wrong.

“Davy?”

She looked over to the cliff. Lucas Roane, the vampire that Davy loved. He was the vampire Talia loved as well, but he had no idea where their love for him was created. He would need to understand. Even now, while she was still acclimating to her new freedom, her body felt a stirring in her core. Her body wanted this vampire, but that was no surprise to her.

Everyone had stopped to gaze upon her, like the goddess she was. They felt her power. There were pockets among them, places where one person had more power than the other, but none matched her. She could feel her superiority over them, so they were ignored. For now.