Dark Wolf Rising Read online

  In the end, she said nothing.

  She simply lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to each of his knuckles, kisses so tender and intimate that time seemed to stand still. "You're a good man, Jace."

  He watched her lips pressed against his skin, every cell in his body screaming to drag her into his arms and take those lips as his own. "That's not always enough," he said softly. "And we both know it."

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  Sneak Peek: Shadows of Darkness

  An Order of the Blade Novel

  Levi Hart froze, his senses shocked into hyper-awareness when he caught the unmistakable scent of a woman. It plunged past his shields, invading his being with a force so strong he had no chance to protect himself from the sheer intensity of her presence. He swore and went utterly still. His mind went into hyper-focus as he fought to regain control, his body barely swaying on the ancient meat hook he'd been chained to for over a century.

  But with each breath he took, the fragile, delicate scent of pure femininity wrapped itself tighter around him. Hot. Sensual. Tempting. And utterly dangerous to a Calydon warrior who was driven by a dark, powerful need for a woman.

  His ancient instincts rose fast and hard, a driving lust that he hadn't succumbed to in centuries. Swearing under his breath, he closed his eyes, summoning what was left of his once formidable discipline to regain control of his body and his senses. It took precious seconds to shut down the lust burning through him. He had to engage strength he couldn't afford to waste in order to crush the almost insurmountable need to find her right then, but he did it.

  The relief was instant, but a residue of emptiness resonated through him, as if his very being was stumbling in the absence of that sexual hunger. Without the distraction, however, a sharp-edged focus settled over him. He narrowed his eyes and called upon his preternatural senses, sending waves of psychic energy out into the surrounding tunnels, searching for the physical presence of the woman he had scented.

  He found nothing.

  A dark fury raged through him, anger that he couldn't find her. Urgency mounted, and he sent out another wave of energy, but this time, he opened his mind, sending the tentacles of his consciousness out into the air, searching with ruthless speed. Within seconds, he picked up her feminine energy again. This time, he kept his physical response contained, and he allowed his mind to hurtle toward her at a mind-numbing pace, racing through tunnels and around corners, faster and faster, gaining speed with each millisecond, her scent becoming stronger and stronger until—

  He found her.

  The moment his mind touched hers, she sucked in her breath, and her mind snapped to his, injecting warmth and passion into his cold, isolated being. His entire body clenched in response, and tension radiated through his muscles as he fought to concentrate. She smelled of spring and outdoors, of grass, of nature, and of a lazy sensuality, things he hadn't experienced in over a hundred years. But since he'd opened his mind to her, it wasn't simply her physical being he accessed. Her emotions assaulted him, a dizzying onslaught of fear, courage, and desperation, all of it ruthlessly contained by her single-minded focus and determination. His name reverberated through her mind, and it was layered through her entire being.

  All her attention was centered on him.

  His body responded to the knowledge, a tightening of his cock that he couldn't control no matter how hard he fought it. To have his name and his existence so intricately woven into the fabric of her being was so visceral that he could almost feel her presence, as if she was right in front of him. He couldn't keep his physical response contained, and his lust spilled over their connection into her. Instantly, desire flooded her, and he felt her body respond to his.

  The connection between them was electric and intense, igniting his cells like fire licking its way through his body. He was a cold-blooded assassin who'd spent a lifetime honing his utter lack of emotion and eradicating his need for physical connection with a woman, and yet, in mere seconds, she'd stripped away every last defense and created a need in him so powerful he knew he'd be sprinting through the tunnels in search of her if he weren't locked down.

  Who the hell was she? And why was she there? No one had set foot in any of the caverns surrounding his prison since he'd been chained up, and he didn't believe it was a coincidence that she was so close, thousands of feet below the surface of the earth in tunnels that no human being would ever stumble across, thinking about him. Who are you? He pressed the question at her, instinctively erecting a telepathic bridge between their minds.

  She froze in response, and for a split second, he felt her confusion that he was speaking in her mind. Then fear rippled through her, and she slammed up her mental shields, severing their link. Emptiness assaulted him at the lack of connection, and he swore, struggling to regain his equilibrium. She'd cut him off, but he knew she'd heard him.

  She'd heard him. After more than a century of complete isolation, she'd heard him. The sudden shock of having his existence recognized by another living creature hit him with an almost violent crash of emotion. His entire being suddenly burned with a need to be acknowledged, to be recognized, to be seen.

  He shoved aside the emotions before they had a chance to claim him. He'd lived his whole life alone. He'd been a shadow in the night, a phantom who was everyone's worst nightmare. His solitary existence had never bothered him, not even for an instant, and he wasn't going to let it start grating on him now just because he'd been strung up like a carcass for a century and had scented a woman so enticing it could drive him mad if he let it consume him.

  Her essence became stronger, and he realized she was headed right for him, on a direct path through the tunnels. She was seeking him out. Anticipation burned through him, an escalating need to see her, to hear her voice, to drag her against him and taste her mouth against his.

  He swore and closed his eyes, raising his own shields to block her scent so he could recalibrate. What the hell? Why was he reacting like that to her? Was it just because he'd been isolated for so long? Or maybe she was some sort of seductress? Not that it mattered. He didn't want to make out with her. He wanted to escape.

  This might be his chance.

  He took a deep breath, summoning the combat-focus that had once been as instinctual as breathing and staying alive. Decades of no food, no water, and no external stimulation had weakened him, and his mind fought against his commands to concentrate so intently.

  With a snarl of fury, he forced his mind to respond, channeling what was left of his strength into his mind until it coalesced into the razor-sharp clarity that had once defined him.

  Straining to see in the darkness, he scanned the cave that had been his prison for so long. It had taken years for his eyes to adjust to the rampant darkness enough for him to be able to see anything, and even now, he could make out only the faintest dark shapes that indicated tunnel openings, escape routes that were only yards away, and yet completely out of reach.

  She was in one of those tunnels, getting closer with each step.

  Manipulating his body weight with the effortless grace of a man who'd spent countless hours figuring out how to stay fit and strong even while he was suspended by his wrists in a frigid, underground cave, Levi spun in a circle. He systematically inspected every inch of his cave, searching for indications that would tell him which direction she was approaching from.

  Unable to resist the temptation, he inhaled again, and her scent wrapped around him, diffusing through his cells like a tendril of sunshine in a body that had long been dead. Energy pulsed through him, a sense of vitality he hadn't felt in decades. He reached out to her again, this time searching the space around her for more information on who she was. With his attention no longer only on her, he noticed the presence of two powerful males flanking her.

  His hands clenched, and his muscles went taut. She was with two Calydon warriors. Possessiveness surged through him, a sudden fear for her safety. Was she their prisoner? Were they going to lock he
r up the way he'd been strung up? Suddenly, it was no longer about sex. It was no longer about his need to be acknowledged. It became only about protecting her. Are you in danger? He pressed the question ruthlessly at her mind, shattering her mental shields.

  Again, she flinched, clearly hearing him, but once again, she didn't answer. Instead, she thrust him out of her mind as efficiently as he'd penetrated it.

  He had to admit, he was impressed with her defenses, but at the same time, it was annoying as hell. He had no idea what the situation was. Did he need to protect her? Was she in danger?

  No. No. No.

  His job wasn't to protect anyone. He had one last mission to accomplish, and he couldn't afford to get distracted by a woman. He had to escape, hunt down the man who had nearly destroyed Levi's soul…and then kill him. He could allow the approaching threesome to mean only one thing to him: a chance to gain his freedom.

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  Sneak Peek: Leopard's Kiss

  A Shadow Guardians Novel

  Coming early 2016

  Anya Diaz felt as if invisible fingers were sliding down her spine in a sensual caress of lethal danger. Fear rippled through her, and for a brief second, she wondered if meeting this unknown contact was worth the risk. She couldn't afford a single mistake, and she really couldn't afford to die.

  She swallowed, her mouth dry, wishing she'd ordered water instead of tequila that she'd never drink.

  She feigned a look across the room, slanting a sideways glance behind her, trying to ascertain the cause of the sensation along her spine. Her breath caught when she saw a man, well over six feet, wearing a black leather trench coat, standing several yards behind her, his gaze boring into her. His dark hair was short, his blue eyes so intense it was as if they were made of pure fire. Even through his coat, she could tell he was heavily muscled, a predator more than a man. He was unshaven, his dark whiskers making shadows fall across his angular cheeks. He looked like he lived in untamed wilds beyond the reaches of civilization, a man who lived by his own rules, not the ones society tried to impress upon him. He was pure sex, deadly sin, and unmitigated danger…and he was staring at her.

  Her heartrate began to escalate as his gaze dropped to her mouth, his eyes darkening as if he were imagining what she tasted like, what she would feel like against him. Desire pooled in her belly, desire that was completely out of character for her. She'd learned her lesson long ago about letting her need for a man rule her, and she never bothered to notice men anymore…but it was impossible for her to drag her gaze off him.

  She felt as though his hands were gliding over her skin, touching every inch of her body as he assessed her. She shivered, trying to shake off the desire pulsing low in her belly, the need he was awakening in her, even though she'd never seen him before in her life.

  He was clearly there for one reason, and that reason was her.

  Except he wasn't the person she'd come there to meet. He was all wrong…but she couldn't stop her response to him.

  He walked toward her, moving with the lithe grace of a predator. As he got closer, a cold chill seemed to wrap around her, the chill of death, and danger. She stiffened, sliding her hand along her lower back for the dagger she'd hidden beneath her shirt. It was small, but she was very good with it. She'd known how to defend herself since she was three, but as he neared, doubt flickered through her. He radiated raw power, the kind that could devastate his prey without him so much as blinking.

  He was a man who delivered death, she was sure of it. Her heartrate sped up as he neared, and a cold sweat broke out between her shoulder blades. She didn't know if she could defeat him, and she didn't have time to try. Keep walking, she urged him silently. Just keep walking.

  One dark eyebrow quirked at her, and for a split second, she thought he'd heard her silent command. Then his gaze dropped to her mouth again, sending searing heat cascading through her. She caught her breath, as he raised his gaze to hers again. His expression didn't change, and his stride didn't falter as he walked right past her toward the bar.

  She let her breath out, her hands shaking with relief as she wiped her wrist across her damp brow. The intensity of her response to him was shocking. What was going on?

  He took over a seat at the bar, still staring at her. Her moment of relief fled, replaced by rising tension. He wasn't even trying to hide the way he was watching her. His gaze was locked on her, watching and assessing her every move. The way he'd eased onto the edge of the bar stool, relaxed yet primed to react in a split second, made him look like a wild panther, a predator so agile and lethal that he could take her out in a single leap. He was too dangerous to be handsome, and too elusive to be appealing, and yet, there was something about him that was drawing her in. Something compelling. Something...

  Yes. You want me.

  A deep, darkly seductive male voice rolled through her mind, making her belly clench with desire. Had he just spoken in her mind? The voice was sensual, rough, erotic, with a hint of accented culture that made her think of black tie dinners and foreign royalty instead of the dangerous predator sitting so still on his perch.

  Don't hold back. His voice slid through her mind again, a sensual caress that made her belly tighten with desire. Think about kissing me. Think about my hands sliding over your naked skin—

  "Stop it." She glared fiercely at him. The satisfied gleam in his eyes told her that it was him in her head. "I didn't invite you in there. Get out."

  He didn't smile, and he didn't back off. What's your darkest fantasy? Handcuffs? A threesome? A little pain... As he spoke, images of each scenario flashed through her mind. Her naked, silken ties around her wrists—

  "No." She jerked her gaze away from him, breaking the connection. She fisted her hands, quickly weaving safeguards in her mind, invisible walls that encased every last thought, every feeling, every bit of herself that wasn't physical. Within a millisecond, he was out of her mind. Her lungs expanded in a sudden relief as the sensual sensation of being caressed along her spine vanished. Had it been his touch she'd been feeling on her back? Some metaphysical extension of his mind that felt like a real caress and seduction? What kind of power did he carry? And why was he directing it at her?

  His expression didn't change, but he seemed to become even more still.

  She met his gaze, daring him to try again.

  He did.

  She felt him testing her protections, feeling his way through her mind, searching for the one gap she'd missed. Anya smiled, allowing the same satisfied gleam into her eyes that he'd had in his. "I'm good," she said. "Don't bother."

  He didn't answer, his gaze flicking behind her.

  She sensed the approach at the same moment, and she sat up more erectly in sudden anticipation, sensing that the person approaching her from behind was the one she'd come to meet. Her instructions had been not to turn around, and not to look, or the deal would be off. Someone leaned up against her seat, and a warm breath brushed over her neck.

  Anya's heart began to pound. This was it. Her chance. "Is Julia still alive?" she asked, her breath frozen in her chest as she waited for news of her best friend, her only friend, the only person still alive who mattered to her.

  Fingers drifted through her hair, and lips brushed over the back of her neck. A seduction, for anyone in the bar who was bothering to watch. A charade to protect them both. "For now." It was a woman's voice, breathy and sensual.

  Tears of relief burned in Anya's eyes. Alive. Her best friend was alive. "How do I find her?" She slid her gaze toward the mirror behind the bar, taking a forbidden look at the woman she'd spent the last three weeks hunting down. Raven black, ultra-straight hair reached just past her shoulders, and her eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. Her lips were pale, her skin the color of a latte, and her simple outfit of a tight black tank top and fitted jeans made her look sexy, but unmemorable. Who was she? How did she know what had happened to Julia? How was she involved? She'd found the woman's email address in
Julia's belongings, the only clue she had as to what had happened to her friend. It had taken weeks to track this woman down, and longer to convince her to meet…assuming the woman standing behind her was the same person who had answered her emails.

  The man at the bar leaned forward, drawing Anya's attention off the mirror and back to him. He was staring at her even more intensely, his gaze boring into hers as if it were a dagger that could cut out her heart. She could feel him testing her psychic defenses, trying to get back in her mind.

  She jerked her gaze off him, refusing to let him distract her. She closed her eyes to cut him off, so she could focus on the woman behind her. She couldn't afford to miss a word. "Where is Julia?"

  The woman's breath tickled her neck. "You must go to the warehouse on the corner of Hartford and—"

  Fingers closed around her wrist. Anya's eyes snapped open as she was jerked off her feet and across the floor. She slammed into the hard body of the man at the bar, and his arms locked around her. He stared down into her eyes. No longer were his eyes blue. They had shifted into dark, bottomless pits of death…and something else. Something more dangerous. Something more personal.

  "I love you," he said, his whisper rolling through her, making sudden tears fill her eyes as longing swept over her. To be loved, to be held like she mattered, to be—

  He kissed her.

  Not just a kiss.

  A kiss so tender, so beautiful, so seductive that it made her heart cry for more. Never had she been kissed like that. Ever. His lips were decadently soft, his tongue a sensual dance of promise and tenderness, his hands on her hips like he was her shield against the world. He was pure male, offering himself to her as her protector, her lover, the man who would never let her be alone again.