She raced into the murky forest, gaping at the size of the trunks. They made redwoods look like twigs. Face raised, she spun as she ran. The leaves were silver, the bark as black as Abyssian’s eyes.
Reminded of his pursuit, she increased her pace. Light cascaded from a clearing ahead. What would hell show her next? She burst into the clearing and stopped short.
In a silver-grass glen, a cascade of . . . gold flowed. An illuminated goldfall.
Molten ore—the same shade as her dress—poured from a cliff into a large steaming pool. “My gods.” She wanted to stare at such a scene forever. But he closed in on her; she could hear his breaths.
Abyssian appeared mere feet behind her. He lunged for her, snaring her bag. She twisted, shimmying from the strap, then took off.
He tossed away the bag, yelling, “Enough, female!”
She hurried past the pool—then skidded to a stop. Dead end. The tree trunks were all grown together. The demon had cornered her.
She ran behind the fall of gold, slowing along the pool’s edge.
He scowled at her from the opposite side. When he went to her right, she fled left. He adjusted his course; so did she. They both slowed, gauging what the other would do.
“How did you get the ring off?” he demanded.
“Like it was hard?”
“You could have been killed a dozen times over out here. Is your captivity so unbearable that you’d risk your life? Or are you bent on getting to Sylvan?”
She raised her chin.
“Do you really believe warning your kingdom will save them from me?”
“Instead I should sit in that tower and do nothing? You might not give a shit about the inhabitants of Pandemonia—other than devising ways to punish them—but I care about my fellow fey.”
“You’ve already sliced your cheek open . . .” He trailed off. “Calliope . . . it’s healing. The wound is mending without the ring.”
She reached for her face; the tingle of regeneration was unfamiliar, but pleasant.
He exhaled a gust of breath. “You’re an immortal now.”
It’d finally happened! No wonder she felt so supercharged.
I am supercharged.
“But even an immortal can die out here. Calliope, do you want this to be the last night of your life?” he asked, his gaze stricken.
Oh, yes, his interest in her was about so much more than revenge. Some part of her had hoped N?x was wrong, that no tie between Lila and Abyssian existed. His expression left no doubt in Lila’s mind.
I’m his mate.
He offered his hand. “I will take you home, and we will discuss this. Can we not be reasonable?”
She straightened. “I’m not going back to that tower.”
Seeming to reach the end of his patience, he clenched his big fists. “I’m king of this realm—you’ll go wherever I bloody tell you to.”
Ha! “You’ll have to catch me first.” As if he could. “And you’re looking worn out there, relic. The old-timer didn’t have his nap today?”
The sculpted muscles of his bare torso tensed. “You’re going to pay for that one, female.”
“Threats, Abyssian? What’re you going to do? Lock me up?”
Voice gone husky, he said, “Maybe I’ll toss you into my bed, and we won’t leave it for years.”
She hated how smug and arrogant and sexy he made those words sound. Her attention shifted down. Whoa. “You’ve got a hard-on. Shocking. You get off on the chase?” She sidled to her left.
He eased that way also, so she edged back to compensate. “If so, I’m not the only one. I can scent how much you enjoyed my pursuit.”
She followed his gaze as it dipped to her bodice. The gold material clung to her breasts, outlining her hard nipples. “Overstimulation.” She was in heat. Couldn’t be helped.
“How long will you use that excuse?”
“As long as I’m still suffering from it.” Even now, she was torn between the impulse to throat-punch Abyssian and the urge to explore his glyphs. With her tongue.
His eyes flickered from green to black and back. “Want to hear a secret that most young Loreans don’t know? Overstimulation never lets up. You simply learn to deal with it better over the years.”
“You’re lying.” In this state, she could barely think! She’d assumed there was a set time limit. If this lust went on indefinitely . . .
“Not at all. The years will bear that out, and I look forward to them. But first I need to get you out of danger. I’m about to trace, little fey. I’ve got a fifty-fifty shot of predicting which way you’ll go.”
“Whatever you’re going to do, you better be quick about it. Because I’m faster than I’ve ever been.”
He lunged to her left; she skirted right—
Arms snagged her waist. The demon had faked her out and tackled her!
The force sent them hurtling across the glen. His wings closed around her, and he twisted to take the impact as they landed.
She was . . . unharmed? He’d handled her like a crystal vase someone had beaned at him.
He released her from his wings, but only to flip her onto her back in the silvery grass. Levering himself above her, he pinned her wrists above her head.
Neither of them moved. Their breaths sounded loud, even over the bubbling pool. As his body loomed over her, his massive size registered in a way it never had before. He’s a lethal warrior.
His scent—clean sweat and fire—hit her. Overstimulation left her dazed. The molten gold lovingly highlighted his features, the color matching his glyphs.
Light played over his straightened horns. His sweat-slicked skin. His brutal but mesmerizing face.
When had he grown as captivating as the rest of this world? Rugged terrain; rugged demon.
He looked like hell’s version of a sex divinity.
Inner shake. This was a M?ri?r holding her. She thrashed against him, didn’t gain an inch.
“I scent your arousal, female. If it’s anything like mine, you’re frantic for release.” He wedged his hips between her thighs, propping himself over her. Only their clothes and a slight space separated their bodies.
She was high from her immortality, from exploring Pandemonia. If overstimulation lasted forever, her chances of resisting him grew dim.