"How certain are you that what you feel is not real?"
Deidre met his gaze. He always knew how to read her. He had since they first crossed paths in the shadow world, when he offered her a choice: to cure the inoperable brain tumor killing her or to outright kill her before she declined, whichever outcome she preferred.
His gaze was penetrating and direct, stirring desire and fear within her. His features were masculine and strong. His nose bore the appearance of having been broken and set incorrectly more than once. Where Gabriel was always clean-shaven, Darkyn's strong jaw was shaded by a day or two of growth, lending danger to his appearance. His fangs were long, his eyes burning with more than hunger.
"Certain enough to make me a deal?" He touched her, his hand settling on her arm. Her breath caught. Cool energy worked its way into her. The simple, purposeful touch reinforced what she already knew. This was too similar to what she physically felt towards Gabriel to be anything other than the Immortal bond that branded Darkyn's name across her shoulders.
If she could only think straight for a few seconds! But her thoughts were falling under the control of something else.
"It's not fair," she whispered in a choked voice.
"It is the nature of the mating rite. You were never meant to belong to Gabriel. It took me too long to find Past-Death's soul. You almost waited too long to seek me out for a deal," he said. "A few more days, and even I wouldn't have been able to undo what Wynn did."
Had the deity Fate betrayed her like everyone else did? His advice had been to give in to Darkyn. Why try to help her, if he knew her destiny already?
"You're trying to trick me again," she said with resolution.
Darkyn cupped her cheek with one hand, the cool energy spreading as his thumb rubbed her cheek lightly. She shuddered at the contact. With his other hand, he removed the slender collar he had placed around her neck when she arrived. It dissipated.
The odd scent was closer, and she found herself breathing in deeply to try to capture it.
"Think about it. When you win your deal with Past-Death, there's no requirement for her to be rendered dead-dead at the end of the week. She may live an eternity, even if her soul comes to you eventually," Darkyn explained. "Gabriel cannot kill his own mate. It's against the Immortal laws. Which begs the question: What happens to you in one week?"
It was the same question she'd been asking herself. She didn't know the answer. She was terrified to find out. As he spoke, he continued the light stroke of one thumb and trailed a finger down the side of her face and traced her jaw. A line of cool fire remained. His touch went down the side of her neck, lingered on her collarbone then continued down her arm. Mesmerized by the sensations, her confusion and his direct gaze, she had to concentrate hard to register what he said.