Damon could not contain his scream of pain as he felt the rope that tied him fray apart with his body’s change. He watched his hands as the flesh wavered, grew larger, more grotesque. Black fur sprouted like needles through his skin and claws grew from the beds of his bloodied nails.

  “As for Arcadia’s women and children, by your own hand you will grant me retribution this night. The devil within you will leave you no choice. Your women for my woman. Your children for my child!”

  Damon felt the beast stir within him, straining to attack, and held it back with a sheer force of will. In his mind, a screaming voice kept demanding him to search for his mother.

  He pushed through the crowds of hair-covered beasts. His shimmering eyes took in the fanged, drooling monsters as they ravaged their prey in a mad frenzy, ripping out the throats of every female, every babe in sight.

  Smells and sounds bombarded him from every direction. He could hear the screaming in the streets, could smell the strange, sweet aroma of the blood as it filled the hall.

  Beneath the other odors, he caught his mother’s scent. He knew it better than his own and he vigorously renewed his efforts to cross the giant hall to her side.

  What he saw then would haunt his dreams for thousands of years. His mother lay still, her clothing torn, blood pouring from the bite just delivered to her shoulder.

  Lycaon, looking like a crazed, mindless animal, was thrusting on top of her roughly, chanting her name over and over in a deep garbled voice around his blood soaked fangs.

  Damon’s vision went red with rage as he leapt on the beast, ripping him from his mother’s broken form. Lycaon struggled for a moment, until his gaze caught on and were riveted to the sight of the woman on the ground, her life blood pumping quickly out to soak into the dirt floor.

  His horrified expression clashed with Damon’s for a moment, then the cursed king was kneeling on the ground, his arms open in invitation. His howl of grief resonated through the maddened crowd.

  Damon didn’t hesitate. With the knowledge of the beast he had become, he punched through the king’s chest with a clawed fist, crushing his heart to sand. He reared back with an angry roar, swiping the sharp daggers across the waiting throat, severing the head completely from its shoulders.

  Ignoring the outraged bellows behind him, he lifted his dying mother in his arms and ran.

  Through the narrow streets of Arcadia, where the blood ran free. Through farmed fields and rocky hillsides. Even as he’d felt the change reverse and his human legs grow weary, he continued forward.

  He ran all night beneath the mocking glow of the moon until he reached the shore where the ships of the traders were moored. Laying his mother on the pure white sand, he listened to her dying words.

  She had held on as long as she could, but she knew she wouldn’t make it home alive. She asked that her body be taken to the shores of Eire and burned there. Damon agreed huskily, his heart in his throat.

  He told her what he’d done, how he’d informed Zeus of the king’s treachery and asked for her forgiveness, which she immediately gave. She asked him to forgive his father but he could not.

  “He was not a good man and he deserved to be punished,” she choked out, obviously in tremendous pain. “But I know that he loved me, as well as someone like he knew how.” And with those last words, tearing his soul to pieces, she died.

  He’d had wrapped her in a blanket and carried her body onto the nearest trading vessel, intimidating the captain into granting them passage and him some covering for the long journey.

  The captain had recognized Damon’s resemblance to the terrifying King of Arcadia, so he didn’t question Damon’s request to have himself locked in the tiny hold for the length of the voyage.

  The slave he sent to feed him each day often came back looking shaken, as if he’d seen a ghost, but he’d never said a word in complaint. And the captain never asked, lest the wrath of that bloodthirsty maniac Lycaon fall upon his head.

  When they’d arrived in his mother’s homeland, Damon burned her body on the beach as she’d requested. Then he turned and headed into the woods, as deep as he could go, where he couldn’t hurt any passersby should he change again.

  He wasn’t sure how long he existed there in his limbo of grief and fury. Years spent cursing himself, cursing his father, cursing Zeus. He learned that strong emotions triggered his beast. He discovered that his appetite, as well as myriad other senses, had increased dramatically.

  He subsisted on the animals of the forest and he shied away from any possible encounter with the few villagers who braved the darkened wood. After several bitter years, when he caught the scent of a stranger in his territory, his loneliness and curiosity compelled him to seek out the source.

  The distinctly unusual aroma told him that there was something unique…powerful, about this man dressed in the robes of the spiritual leaders his mother had described, when she’d tell him about her people in a voice tinged with longing. His instincts told him the sage could be trusted.

  Myrddin knew all about Damon and what he’d gone through. He’d listened in disbelief as the elder had told him the truth about the gods he had worshipped, their fallibility and their deception.

  The wise man offered to teach him to control the untamed thing inside him. Said he would train him to use his curse to help the innocent. Those who fell victim to creatures just as deadly as he. Seeing it as a chance for redemption, a chance to honor his brave mother’s memory, Damon had agreed. And the rest? Well, the rest was history.

  Chapter Eight

  He blinked away the memories and turned, surprised to feel Meru’s face pressed against the back of his neck, shoulders shaking. He knew she wasn’t laughing this time. He felt her tears soak into the collar of his shirt.

  Damon slid her around from behind his back to his lap in one smooth maneuver, wrapping her up and rocking her in his arms as she cried. She humbled him, this compassionate, generous, amazing woman.

  She slid under his iron-plated defenses as if they were made of cobwebs and air. Decimated his control, dissolved his anger. It made him feel all too human…when he was anything but.

  “I’m so sorry.” She sniffled, rubbing her nose with the sleeve of her pajama top, looking sweetly adorable. Eyes as blue as the ocean looked into his, moisture threatening to spill once more, tangling in her curled up lashes.

  Such simple words, said with honest sincerity, and he felt the dark hole inside him mend a little, healed by the light that was Meru.

  He kissed away the tear that had fallen to her cheek, tasting the warm salt of it on his tongue. She looked at him, silent apart from her sniffles, before turning her other cheek toward him for similar treatment. He willingly obliged, holding her close as she snuggled deeper into his lap.

  Tenderness. That was the emotion twisting his heart. And something more. Something he knew, but wasn’t ready to acknowledge, even to himself.

  He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, easing them both with his gentle rocking motions, before he became aware of a few important details.

  The first being that the squeezes and pats they had been offering each other in comfort had turned into caresses laden with sensual undertones. Her hand on his shoulder, running down his arm, making his blood heat.

  The second was her scent. His nose nuzzled against the curls at her temple, intoxicated by the warm, arousing fragrance that he now knew he’d recognize anywhere. She responded by placing her lips at the base of his throat and inhaling blissfully before reaching up to plant a soft, closed-mouth kiss on the cleft of his shadowed chin.

  The final, and possibly most critical, detail he noted as their gazes clashed was the delayed awareness of something it shamed him, as a man, to have missed.

  “You’re not wearing underwear.”

  She arched an eyebrow, an impish little smile formed on her full, pink lips. “Nope.”

  “I should go.” Rather than moving away, he held her a bit tighter. Meru, an expression of true bewilderment replacing her grin, leaned back to look him square in the eye.

  She had no doubt he was aroused. Not only because of the proof currently making its presence happily known against her hip but also from the heated expression in his darkening eyes.

  But she also saw worry there. Caution.

  As he’d told her about his traumatic past, she’d been overcome with despair for all that he’d been through, all that he’d suffered. She’d also come to several stunning realizations.

  She was in love with Damon Arkadios. How else could she explain her awareness of him, the powerful pull he had on her? She’d never leapt without looking as Lily did, though she wasn’t as cynical as Sheridan. But this, the way she felt about him…it was easy. It was right. As if she’d always known him, always loved him.

  She realized why he had been so careful to assure her of his control, even at the height of passion…especially then. He was afraid he would hurt her. Afraid his own feelings would overwhelm him and he would become no better than his father.

  Damon would rather die than cause her the slightest discomfort. There was no doubt in her mind. Not because she had any romantic delusions that he had fallen as quickly as she had but because of the kind of man he was.

  A protector. A guardian. Fianna. A sexy, wonderful man. And she was determined to prove it to him.

  New to the art of seduction, she sent a quick prayer to her new best friend, Danu, that she didn’t send him screaming, or laughing, in the other direction.

  She smiled up at him from beneath her lashes and gently pulled herself from his arms. He looked at her, his suspicion evident as she stood beside the bed, her knees brushing his, her hand fiddling with the hem of her top.

  Sliding her fingers up to the top button of the white cotton top, she twirled it to and fro before releasing the catch. She saw his throat work as he swallowed hard, she had his full attention.

  “So that’s one vote for leaving.” She murmured as she moved on to the second button in the line, releasing it quickly and moving on to the third and fourth. “And one vote for staying.”

  She glanced quickly at his eyes, smiling in secret delight as she noted how focused he was on the small patch of skin revealed by her impromptu striptease.

  If her actions were affecting him, that was nothing compared to the havoc they were wreaking on her. Her breasts had begun to tingle, aware as never before of the scrape of the cloth against her tightening nipples. Her fingers trembled and fumbled with the buttons as she felt his attention, riveted on her, arousing her to a fever pitch.

  She pressed her legs together, her hips rocking in a slight, sultry sway to the music in her head. She lifted her fingers from their task to caress her skin along the edge of the fabric. Wetness gathered between her thighs at the deep, warning rumble that came from his chest.

  Reaching the fifth and final button, she stood poised for a moment, enjoying his anticipation before shrugging her shoulders, the top sliding to the floor. Suddenly she was worried about his reaction. All her old insecurities about her generous figure rose to the surface. Diving for the bed covers sounded more and more tempting.

  “Can I change my vote?” he grated harshly, the muscles in his neck taut, his hands fisted against his thighs in restraint. She took one step back when he made a move as if to reach for her.

  “It’ll cost you.” She brazened it out, distracting him by motioning to his clothing. “We do have a very specific dress code.” He flashed a devilish grin before standing to tower over her.

  “I do believe my ability to remove my clothes in an entertaining fashion has been questioned.” She chuckled softly at his words, remembering their conversation on the dance floor that first night. The laughter died in her throat as he began to unbutton his shirt.

  His dark eyes scorched her skin as he revealed his body slowly, sensually. He toed off his boots and reached for the clasp on his pants, and she was sure she might actually swoon. He was good. She’d been right. He could have made a fortune.

  Making sure she was watching, he bit his lower lip and slid down the zipper. Moments later he stood, tossing the pants in a heap on the floor, completely naked.

  Her mouth parted on a panting moan as her gaze traveled over the rippling mass of corded muscles now bared to her gaze. Her throat closed and a shiver of delicious trepidation skitter down her spine at the sheer size of him.

  He took a determined step toward her and she stepped back once more, hands raised. His nostrils flared at the action, his eyes narrowed in warning.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, Meru.” His rasping voice slid down her spine in a rough caress and she shivered. “If you act like prey, the predator in me will want to run you down.”

  He thought he was warning her, she thought a little wildly. In reality, his words went off like volcanic explosions throughout her body. Her nipples hardened to diamond points, her already dripping pussy pulsing in need, ready for him.

  “Promises, promises.” He looked ready to pounce at her husky words, so she spoke up quickly.

  “Damon, please. This afternoon was the hottest, most incredible experience of my life. I only have one regret.” He tilted his head in question. “I didn’t get to see you. To touch you and taste you the way you did me.”

  She saw him still, his white-knuckled fists clenched at his side. Damon’s eyes closed for a moment before nodding sharply, turning toward the bed and gifting Meru with clear view of his incredible backside.

  He carefully closed the book and placed it on the bedside table. She watched as he reclined on the bed, his back supported by the pillows against the headboard, his nude body displayed for her pleasure. And he waited.

  Happy Birthday to me. She let out a lustful sigh. Her present was definitely worth the wait. She looked at his reclining form and marveled at the massive proportions of perfection that made up this man.

  My man, her body said adamantly. Her logical mind was too busy ogling the eye candy to argue.

  She wondered how someone so big could move so gracefully. And he was big. Everywhere. He sprawled out on her silk coverlet, his frame taking up half the bed, skin like dark velvet on steel. A larger than life personification of sex and sin. Her eyes lingered over the black swirls of hair around his chest and navel, begging for her touch, before they lowered, giving in to irresistible temptation.

  She had never considered that part of a man’s body particularly attractive. Granted, she’d never seen one this up close and personal. But she thought she’d seen enough to make an informed decision. She had been wrong. It was a work of art.

  The thick length of his cock lay heavy against his muscled abs and she felt a little faint at the sight. How on earth had that fit inside her?

  The object of her fascination was hard and taut, the veins clearly outlined on the flushed shaft, the tip of the wide, crowned head already weeping with arousal.

  She licked her lips, her mouth watering, the desire to taste him as he had tasted her a carnal need. To make him as wild as she had been. Wild for her.

  A deep, delicious rumble came from the direction of the bed and she dragged her eyes upward with difficulty. Damon was a study in restraint. His biceps bulged as his fists held the gold and emerald bedspread beneath his hips in a white knuckled death grip. His torso seemed to strain toward her, black eyes lava hot as they studied her naked frame.

  She knew she was a hypocrite, but she felt very insecure. The perfection of his body highlighted the flaws of her own. She lifted her arms to cover her nakedness, though she didn’t seem to have enough arm for the job. Damon wasn’t amused.

  “Don’t hide from me, Meru. I need to see you too.” He saw the embarrassment on her face and the rumbling in his chest grew louder.

  “Don’t you know how sexy you are? How hard you make me?” He leaned back, his voice low and husky as he gripped his thick erection in his fist. Meru watched, hypnotized, as he began to stroke himself, his fingers sliding through the pearly liquid leaking from the head of his cock.

  “You do this to me. Only you.” Up and down, twisting roughly, his hips pumping up from the bed as she watched. He groaned and her fascinated gaze jumped to his face. Tight with need, almost savage in its beauty, his look seared her through to her core, her own hips thrusting slightly, already imagining the feel of him inside her, filling her.

  “Come closer, baby, and touch me. I need your hands on me. I’m craving the taste of those lush breasts. Longing to stick my tongue up that creamy, delicious pussy and eat you alive, your thighs draped over my shoulders. To fill my hands full of your sweet curves as I make you scream.”

  She trembled like a leaf in a storm, unaware that she was shuffling closer toward him, mesmerized by the erotic pictures he was painting.

  “I can hold off if you need me to. Control the need to pin you down and fuck you, hard and fast like I’m dying to, but not for much longer. Just imagining your soft hands on my skin, your mouth stretched wide around my aching cock…”

  She closed her eyes on a moan. The man said the dirtiest, sexiest things. His words flooded her system like a drug.

  Her eyes popped open seconds later, stunned that she had gotten close enough to the bed for him to wrap his large, hot hands around her wrists.

  His face was so tight with lust that she was sure he would make good on his words to take her quickly. And she was too turned on to object, all her insecurity forgotten. She just knew she needed him any way he wanted to take her.

  Damon didn’t attack her. He pulled her up onto the bed beside him instead, gentling his grip on her wrists as he placed her palms against his heated chest. “Touch me.” It was a gruff demand. Damon leaned his head back against the wooden frame as if in pain.

  Her hands shook with need. He was so warm, his skin as velvety as she imagined, as hard as she’d known it would be.

  “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Her husky chuckle caused Damon to shift impatiently beside her.

 

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