Darkyn's Mate

"You are the only one I'd ever try to kill," she whispered.

"I'm the only one you never could kill, even if you used all my power against me," he replied. "You are my mate. It's not possible."

"You're bluffing," she said, searching his face.

"Am I?"

She couldn't tell, but she doubted it. Anger stirred within her at the satisfaction on his face. He was serious about destroying the mortal world. If he was half as creative at torturing people and planning his battles as he was in bed, he was more than capable of doing it.

"We are nothing alike," she said.

"I am what I am. You are what you are. Your purity and my depravity. It will make eternity intriguing." He leaned forward to kiss her once more, his fangs fully extended.

Deidre pushed him away. The demon side of her was always turned on by him, the human side of her determined not to let him do anything to her world. Before he could start another round of rough sex on his terms, she leaned into him, using her body to press him to the bed. Darkyn didn't resist. His hands roamed her body, his long nails leaving trails of blood down her skin. They healed fast and brought exquisite little pricks of pleasure.

She bit his neck harder than she had before, and he chuckled.

"Now you're ready to play," he assessed. "Drink deep, love. What I plan on doing to you would kill a demon ten times over."

Anger burned in her blood. Deidre did as he said and fed long, prepared to put up an honest fight this time. Her fear was tamed by fury. No part of her would let Darkyn hurt her world. Ever. No matter what the cost to her. She'd show him she wasn't afraid to back down in bed or anywhere else.