Sherrilyn Kenyon - One Silent Night

Zephyra pulled back with a curse. "You were always a coward."

He grabbed her arm and jerked her closer. "Never a coward. A fool maybe, but I've never run from anything."

"If you really think that, you're even dumber than I thought. Now give me Medea."

He shook his head. "My daughter stays with me."

Growling, Zephyra went for his throat.

Stryker caught her and held her back. "Still so unreasonable." But worse, she was delectable and he wanted her with a madness that was allconsuming. He leaned close enough to her hair that he could inhale the delicate scent of valerian mixed with lavender. That smell slammed into him. Gods, how he wanted her. "I'll tell you what. You want me dead and I want to taste you. What say we settle this like the warriors we are?"

"How so?"

"We fight and if you win, you kill me."

She cocked her head suspiciously. "If I lose?"

"You give me two weeks to win you back. If at the end of two weeks you still loathe me, I'll let you execute me."

Zephyra froze at his offer. She eyed him suspiciously. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"I'm a man of my word. Of all people, you know my honor means everything to me. If I haven't won you back in two weeks, then I deserve nothing better than to die by your hand."

"You know I'm not the same weak-kneed fool who couldn't cut her own meat that you married. I will kill you."

"I know."

"Then I accept your terms." She stepped back. "Now prepare to die."

Stryker manifested two ancient Greek swords and handed one to her.

Her eyes glowing with anger, she took it from his hand and readied herself. Stryker saluted her with his.

She charged, slicing at his throat. He caught the blade with his and forced her back. Twirling, he changed hands to catch her on an upswing that almost succeeded in disarming her. But she was quick and strong. And like him, she changed hands, and drove him back with the ferocity of her attack.

"You're incredible," he breathed, impressed with her skill and passion.

"And you're not." She scissor-kicked him back and swung the blade at his neck.

Stryker felt the burn of it as he dodged left and dropped to the floor, where he swept her feet out from under her. Cursing him, she flipped to land back on her feet before she thrust at his outstretched arm. Stryker smiled in appreciation as he continued to press his attack. She feinted left, then right. He caught her blade with his and swung it high, out of her grasp.

She shoved him back, sank her teeth into his arm, then rolled on the ground so that she could scoop the hilt back into her hand and rise with the sword held at ready.

Stryker cursed as he covered the wound on his arm with his hand. "You bit me?"

"We use what we have." She came at him swinging.

"That's such a girl move," he said, disappointed that she'd used those tactics.

"But it works. Maybe if you fought like a girl and not a stunted baboon, you'd actually win."

His arm throbbing, he caught her blow and pressed her to his left. Out of instinct, he lifted his hand to strike her face, then stopped.

He would never lay hand to the mother of his child. Never lay hand to the woman he'd once loved more than his own life.

That hesitation cost him, as she jerked the sword free and laid open the skin on his shoulder. Hissing in pain, he staggered back. Like a true warrior, she pressed her advantage, slamming her sword against his over and over again.

The ferocity of her attack did more than just damage his injured arm. It cut him deep in his heart. "You really want me dead?"

"With every part of me."

Unwilling to concede that to her, he renewed his attack, sweeping his blade under hers and then wringing it from her hand. It arced up.

Pushing her away, he yanked it from the air and then angled both blades at her throat.

"Yield."

Her eyes flared with anger. "I hate you, you bastard!"

"And I've won in all fairness. Concede the fight."

She spat on the ground at his feet. "I'll abide by my word, but you will never win me back. Believe me, in two weeks I will slice open your throat, drink from your blood, and then pierce your heart and laugh while your body explodes into dust."

"Beautiful imagery. You should write for Hallmark." He used his powers to dissolve the swords. "I want you to know that I fought you fairly. Equal to equal. I could have used my powers against you, but I didn't."

She gave him extremely sarcastic applause. "Should I warm the oven and bake you a batch of hero cookies?"

He let out a long breath. "I have my work cut out for me where you're concerned, don't I?"

"Not really. Hate you today. Will hate you tomorrow. What say we don't waste any time? Give me the sword and let me have your throat now. You told me once that you'd die for me. How about you keep that one promise?"

He scoffed at her rancor. "Why keep one now after I've broken so many?"

That brought color to her cheeks as her eyes glistened with her rage. "Just as I thought. A liar and a coward. You'll never submit yourself to me in two weeks, will you?"

"This isn't about promises. It's a matter of honor. I've never sacrificed my honor for anyone."

"No, only your love," she sneered. "Tell me something, Strykerius. Was it worth it?"

That was always the one question in life, wasn't it? One of the priestesses who'd tended him when he was a child had once told him the biggest regrets were those that hadn't been done. And she was right. He wished he'd never left Zephyra.

His heart softened as he remembered the past. "I had ten beautiful children. Strong. Determined. And I loved every one of them. How could I ever regret that?"

"And your wife? What of her?"

She had been beautiful, too. Docile and quiet. Never questioning. A true lady of the ancient world. "She was dutiful and faithful. I would never besmirch the honor of or insult the mother of my children."

Her eyes flared an even darker shade. He'd struck her without meaning to.

And he would never take away from her what they'd had between them. "But she was never you, Phyra. Not in face, form, or passion. You were always the light in my darkness."

Zephyra moved toward him slowly. Cautiously.

His shoulder still aching and bleeding, Stryker tensed, expecting her to attack him again. Reaching up, she sank her hand into his hair and pulled his lips down to hers so that she could give him a kiss so feral and hot it set fire to his blood. His body roared to life as he returned it with every part of himself that had missed her.

Growling, she pulled back and glared at him before she shoved him away. "That is only to remind you what you gave up. My heart is dead except for Medea. She alone keeps that last piece of me."

"Then I will release her."

She snorted contemptuously. "Your tricks won't work on me."

"No trick. You gave me your word and I'm giving you my faith. I trust you to abide by our terms and so I release her back into your custody."

Zephyra narrowed her eyes on him, not trusting him for a moment. He was smarter than any man she'd ever known. Cunning. He knew how to manipulate people to get what he wanted. He always had.

Everyone except his worthless father.

More handsome than any of the gods, her Strykerius had once made her body burn with insatiable lust. Now she only felt anger and hatred.

It was so strange to see him now with those eerie swirling eyes. As a mortal, his eyes had been the clearest blue. She'd wanted to bear sons and daughters with those eyes to remind her of how much she loved him.

Medea's eyes had been green like hers, and while they'd been mortal she'd been grateful to the gods for that small mercy. Until the night Apollo had cursed every member of her race because a group of Atlantean soldiers had slaughtered his Greek mistress and bastard son.