House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1) novel Chapter 28

Standing tall, face hooded, he was intoxication at its most mature as she walked up to him. He did not attempt to move until she was in touching distance. Tilting his head, he took her right hand in his own, engulfing it as he tugged her close until she was encased in his hold. Face tucked in his broad chest, She inhaled the musky scent of him, and closed her eyes, revelling in the perfection of his hold.

The heat of his lips on her hair was her undoing, gripping the robe tighter in response. The comfort too great to warrant any explanation. No words to understand it, it was what it was like she’d spent her whole life in this man's embrace. His voice quiet in her presence, embrace strong and possessive. Clare raised her head to look at him, though she could see blackness in the hood, his cold eyes froze her in place.

She looked closer, air caught in her chest when she saw the pair of mesmerizing sapphire blue eyes. They had the luminescent of a cheetah at night, but he defined the word exquisite. A true perfection, without seeing his face, she knew he was perfect, he would be to her. Looks weren't important to her now, just him.

The heat of his breath on her forehead as he brushed his lips across her skin, his voice melodious to her ears, “Caidrians waiting. I have to let you go now.” After her reluctant nod, she heard his soft chuckle as he moved toward the edge of the cliff pathway. Apparently, he was going to jump down to the bottom. Clare screamed in panic, “WAIT.”

The man’s hood turned with his body, his face a shadow, but she could see his eyes that glow resembled an aqua gem, “Who are you?”

His voice was deep, his accent- none, his tone that of an ageless perfection, “That Princess is for you to decide.”

The words stood between them, just when she thought he would speak again he jumped, and instinctively she ran to the end of the pathway to see him drop but instead watched him vanish mid-air, gone.

Her heart pulsed at the glimpse of this man, his touch alone held her spellbound. All her worries vanished, all the blood spilt around them, mindless in that space of time, it was just her and him.

His voice, inhumanly masculine as the words left with the tune of addiction, lured her, entranced her, compelled her and now she starved for more.

She pushed the thoughts away and for some reason her mother flashed in her mind, punishingly brushing the image of Barbatos as he stood with her mother’s heart in his hand. Choosing to ignore the worried frown on Caidrian’s face she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, shifter bites heal fast.” He showed her his arm, the bleeding had stopped, and the tissue was only red and scarred where the wolf had bitten into his flesh.

She cleared her throat, “So does he have a name?”

Instead of answering her Caidrian pointed to the dead on the floor, “Those are Shapeshifter’s, stray ones.” Wiping his sword on his pants he added, “The Asguardians were hunting them, we’re to side with Asguard in most situations, so they saw us as a threat the minute we arrived, and the guy in the robe is someone you should stay away from, far away from.”

“I didn’t even see his face.”