Angie Fox - ADS 03 - A Tale of Two Demon Slayers

“Yes.” I nodded.

Satisfied, he continued. “The Argillos chooses a plain stone like the ones you see here.” He gestured to the ground and I picked up a stone. It was rough and heavy in my hand, an ordinary piece of rock. “At the altar, the Argillos takes this rough ingredient and imbues it with part of who she is.” He wrapped his hands in mine, closing them as best as they would fit around the stone. “She infuses it with her love and power and dedication to her family. It is no longer a mere stone, but a beautiful relic of the power inside each one of us.”

I opened my hands. “The rock changes too?” Mine sure hadn’t.

“It becomes a Skye stone, clear as cut glass. Almost impossible to break. It is strong and whole like the one who creates it.”

“But this place, this altar, almost feels alive. If each stone is connected to one person…”

“As I said, this is also a place of sacrifice.” He stood for a moment in front of the stone slab, his back to me. “When the curse came to my family, each of the women of my line was stricken down by the demon Vald on the twenty-eighth day after their twenty-eighth birthday. The first, Danae, refused to be taken with what little of her power she had left. She feared the demon would use it to grow stronger. So she came here on her twenty-eighth birthday.”

Dimitri bent his head, as if in prayer. “Usually, the stones are used as conductors, a way to focus the magic within. But that day, Danae infused her Skye stone with every bit of her remaining magic. Then she embedded it into the rock of this altar.” He brushed his fingers over the softly glowing stone. “The others did the same. Generations of women giving back their strength and their love. This is a very powerful place.”

“They gave away their magic.” I couldn’t imagine choosing to face death completely unarmed.

“They did it for the good of their husbands and their children,” Dimitri said quietly.

He turned. “This is where things changed for me. It happened on the day my sisters came to place their magic back into the altar. It would have been the end of our clan—of the two women I loved most in this world. I said no.” He took two steps toward me, towering over me. “I had been looking for a slayer. I was close. I couldn’t let the last remaining members of my family—my own sisters—die. So I used my protective magic to find you.” My stomach churned at the thought as he continued. “I drew out a thread of you in order to determine your location. I had to find you,” he rumbled. “You must understand that.”

I shook my head. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He gave a sharp laugh. “I don’t know if that’s true. Lizzie, I—” He looked to the sky. “I didn’t know you,” he said, almost to himself.

Then to me, his eyes blazing green like they did when he’d lost the veil of nice society, he said, “I didn’t set out to hurt you.”

I believed him, but I knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

He stood, his shoulders rigid, and admitted it. “At that point, I would have done anything, sacrificed anyone to save the last of my family.”

The crazy thing was, I understood. Dimitri didn’t fight for power or glory, he fought for the people he loved most.

That’s how it began. The question was, where did it end?

“And what about now?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Never. I can’t believe you even have to ask.” He took me in his arms, his touch grazing my cheek. “You know I love you. We will find those who stole the link to you. I’d do anything and everything to save you, the same way I saved my sisters.”

“I don’t need you to save me.” Help me, yes. But so far, I was the one who had solved problems for myself.

He studied me, running his hands up my arms, my shoulders, my neck. He traced his fingers along the sensitive spot right behind my ear. I felt the warmth of his touch ease through my veins.

“You are strong, Lizzie,” he said, drawing me closer, his lips brushing my forehead. “Believe in that,” he whispered against my cheek, his lips tracing across my skin in what was almost a kiss. “I do.”

He slipped a hand behind my neck and lowered his mouth to mine.

Mmm…the man knew how to take his time. He kissed me slowly. Gently. For all my faults and fears, despite my imperfections and the way I tended to turn his life upside down, this man wanted me. He showed me with every taste, every touch.

He took my mouth, my lower lip, my mouth again with a stark desire that drove slivers of pleasure through me.

I closed my eyes and leaned into him, savoring the heat of his chest, running my hands along the hard lines of his back, embracing this man who had stood alone far too long. I could never get over how large he was, how potent. He was rock-hard steel and strength. He tried to hold it in check, but anyone could see the power thrumming underneath. I ran my hands along his waist, down his thighs.

I could feel how much he wanted me.

He loosened my ponytail, tossing the band into the grass as his fingers wove through my hair, sending a shiver from my scalp to my toes. This man knew me so well.

Knew how to love me.

He kissed me and touched me until my pulse pounded and my blood surged through my veins. I kissed him back with everything I had to give, pushing, demanding, willing him to take it all and then some.

With a moan he wrenched himself away. “Here,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Dimitri led me away from the ruined temple into the soft grass beyond.

My body ached for him, and that tiny part of me—the wild child, the bad girl, the one who didn’t like things all neat and organized and perfect—sighed with pleasure.

I’d always wanted to make love in a field under the stars. And now, here—with this man—it would be perfect.

“Lizzie.” He slipped the strap of my pink sundress off my shoulder, kissing my bare collarbone. Then he eased away the second strap.

He looked up at me, eyes glittering with desire.

“Dimitri—” I barely had time to ease away from a stray stone before he was on top of me, over me. The weight of him pressed me into the soft earth.

He fitted himself to me. We rocked together as his mouth devoured mine. I kissed him with abandon, relishing the pleasure of this man, this moment.

But still I wanted more.

I grazed a hand down his body and found the hard length of him.

He leapt, groaning. “Lizzie,” he began, his voice low and husky.

“Hmm?” I whispered as he stilled my hand.

He throbbed with excitement. I could feel it as I touched my tongue to the salt on his neck.

“Wait,” he gasped.

He was hard and ready, almost to the edge. I could feel it.

“I’m not a patient woman,” I whispered in his ear.

I was near panting and he wanted to take it slow.

“I’m trying to make this last,” he said, sounding like he was almost in pain.

“Good luck.”

He slid his hands up my calves, massaging them, running the rough pads of his fingers over my breasts, down my stomach, sending shots of pleasure though places I didn’t even know could feel that good. He worked his hands up the backs of my legs, over my knees, under my dress and higher still.

I dug my fingers into the curve of his back, urging him on as he slid my underwear aside. I heard myself moan as he swept his hands under my hips and entered me.

He dove into me hard, possessing. His power, his presence, was overwhelming. This place, this man, it seemed as though everything I’d done had led me to this moment.

I reveled in him, matched his pace, wound my legs around his hips and pulled him even deeper, until we came together in the ultimate fusion of body and soul.