Deidre saw the club move towards him in slow motion. A scream stuck in her throat. The massive stone club smashed into the back of the Dark One with a sickening crunch and threw him twenty feet into the air. As if one blow wasn't enough, the ogre hit him again mid air, driving him straight into a tree.

She stared, not believing what she saw to be remotely possible.

Deidre stumbled forward, jarred back into the moment by the sound of her own scream. Oblivious to the dangerous battle so close to her, she darted across the cleared area to the still form of her mate.

"Darkyn!" she cried, dropping onto her knees beside him.

The scent of his blood was thick in the air, the sources too numerous for her to identify.

"Darkyn!" she said more softly, rolling him onto his back.

He was alive and growling. His skin was warm, and she wiped blood from his roughly hewn features. His chest appeared to be crushed, along with most of his body.

"Oh, god!" she gasped and bent over him, fluttering kisses over his bruised face. "You can heal. Feed and heal." She sliced her wrist for him, placing it to his lips.

He twisted his head away.

"What're you doing? Drink!" she insisted.

"Can't heal fast enough … here."

"Of course you can!"

He lifted an arm. Even with a bone protruding from it, he seemed oblivious - and determined. Gripping her neck, he pulled her face to his.

"Kill me," he said, his lips brushing her ear.

Deidre stared, uncertain she'd heard right. She cupped his face gently with both her hands, desire and hunger spinning through her again. "Darkyn, you need to feed."

"It's too late for that. Kill me, quickly."

Her eyes watered, and she shook her head. "It's not too late. You just have to do it."

"Love, if you don't take Hell, that fucking giant will."

Her brow furrowed.

"Whomever defeats the Dark One, the last to strike, the last to deal, takes his place," he explained, rasping painfully.

"No, no, no!" she whispered frantically. "Darkyn-"

He squeezed her neck, silencing her. "Quickly. I am dying." He pulled her to his neck. "Drink until I am dead."

Deidre's body shook, and tears blurred her vision. She pressed her mouth to his neck, unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste that was him.

"I'm giving you Hell, love."

"I don't want Hell. I want you!"

"I know. This isn't the end." He was fading, his voice distant, his effort to fight his death clear. "You … remember what I taught you of … deals?"




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