Darkyn's Mate (#3, Rhyn Eternal) (18 page)

Deidre tried to suck in
deep breaths. Her body trembled from emotion. As she stared out at
the deserts of Hell, she figured out what she felt. She was
furious
and so hurt, she
wished she’d jumped into the Grand Canyon like she originally
planned.

“My mate, helping someone win a deal against
her.” Darkyn was amused.

“I need to be alone,” she said with more
sharpness than she intended.

“Maybe I should say, my mate, facing
reality.” His touch on her bare shoulder made her angrier.

Deidre moved away.

He touched her again, cold energy spinning
through her. Deidre swiped at his hand. She knew the danger of
letting him provoke her, but she was too overwhelmed to handle him
calmly. He’d been orchestrating everything, always aware of what he
did to her without being able to care how hurt she was.

Darkyn took her arm. Deidre snapped.

She whirled and slapped him hard.

“Stop. Please,” she said with effort. “I
can’t think when you do that!”

The demon smiled. Her slap didn’t even faze
him. He took a step closer. Claustrophobic, Deidre backed away. A
flare of interest was in Darkyn’s black gaze, one that made her
realize he wasn’t leaving until he was finished with her. Her
throat was tight, her eyes blurring from tears. Her heel hit the
solidness of a wall, and she tried to bolt.

Darkyn caught her easily and pushed her back
in front of him, her back to the wall. Deidre shoved at him
unsuccessfully. The demon lord took her wrists and pinned them
above her head. He leaned into her, lowering his eyes to her
level.

Deidre heard her own harsh breathing. Unable
to look away from him, she couldn’t fight the sense she was about
to have a total meltdown.

“Please, please let me go,” she choked out.
“Please.”

“No.” The low purr was firm.

She pulled at her trapped arms, hating the
feeling of being vulnerable to him.

“I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I … just
… can’t …”

“You can,” he replied. “I know every part of
your soul. I know exactly what you are and what you’re capable of.
If you weren’t capable, you’d be dead.”

She shook her head, struggling not to
cry.

How the fuck did she live with being married
to the devil? She’d given relationship advice to the woman who
condemned her to Hell, advice meant to help snag the heart of a man
she hadn’t stopped loving.

Yet this was the way it was always supposed
to have been. The histories and their relationship were destined to
end this way.

Deidre hated that Darkyn was right. There
was one place for her in this mess, and it was with him. It was a
truth acknowledged by the primal instinct drawn to the scent of his
blood and invigorated by his touch. She’d spent five days with him,
silently fighting him, only to realize there was nowhere else to
go.

“There’s only one door open now,” he
continued.

The truth of his words made her last meager
attempt at resistance melt. Deidre stopped trying to control her
tears.

Darkyn’s grip loosened. She tugged her hands
free and leaned into him, sobbing and shaking, unable to support
herself. Of all the emotions running through her mind, the one that
hurt the most was knowing that everyone outside Hell had already
written her off as a goner. She was the last to lose hope, and it
was being forced to see how out of place she was in Gabriel’s
equation that finally broke her resolve.

He held her for a moment then swept her up
in his arms. Deidre clung to him, no part of her capable of
resistance. After a moment, she felt him place her on the bed. She
rolled onto her stomach, weeping. Her heart hurt too much for her
to stop. Even the scent of his blood barely impacted her
senses.

The bed shifted under the weight of Darkyn’s
frame as he settled in beside her. Deidre was rolled onto her side.
He placed the bloody thumb to her lips. Its effect was
immediate.

She swallowed the few drops. She was able to
breathe deeply again and her weeping turned to a trickle. Too
exhausted to move, she closed her eyes as he pulled her into his
body. He was warm and solid at her back, the only thing capable of
grounding her in the nightmare of a world she lived in.

“Drink,” he ordered in the low purr.

Deidre opened her eyes. He’d torn his wrist
for her to feed. His other arm wrapped around her while his breath
was hot against her ear. She fed, ensnared by his scent, until she
was soothed then tucked her head in the crook between his neck and
shoulder.

“I’m yours, Darkyn,” she said the words in a
hushed voice. This time, they felt true. This time, there was
nothing else standing between her and her destiny.

“You accept your place by my side.”

“Yes,” she murmured.

He nudged her onto her back. She went,
meeting his dark gaze. The soulless, ancient intelligence there was
as fathomless as the night sky. Even if his features were young and
his body lean, he wasn’t able to hide what he was.

“You feel pain,” he said, studying her
features.

“Yes. I hurt.” Tears raced from the corners
of her eyes. She didn’t try to hide them this time; Darkyn had
stripped her bare. There was no hiding from her mate.

Deidre touched his face with trembling
fingers. His jaw was roughened from a five o’clock shadow. The
quiet purr that only emerged when they were alone rumbled gently in
his chest. He seemed content to study her. She was afraid to know
what he thought, if he was counting the ways he could manipulate
her now that there were no more barriers.

“You have always been vulnerable to me,” he
said, amused by her thought.

She sighed. “You don’t understand.”

“I have studied human nature for the
entirety of my existence. I cannot exploit it, if I do not
understand it.”

“You want me to hurt. Isn’t that what you
do?” she asked, wiping her tears.

“I want your pain to be of a physical kind
that I cause when we fuck like demons,” he replied. “I do not wish
you to feel pain otherwise.”

“Are you trying to be nice?”

“I do not
try
at anything I do,”
he said with some irritation. “I conquer.”

“So I’m a conquest.”

“Without a doubt, love,” he said without
hesitation. “You are also my mate. I see weakness and vulnerability
as I do everyone. But I see more.”

“What?” she asked.

“I see beauty.”

She gazed at him, puzzled. When he said no
more, she smiled slightly. “What does that mean?”

“I see a conquest that gives me pleasure to
think of as mine.”

Deidre laughed. The demon lord had just
admitted to being happy, in his own way. Her hope had been crushed
in every other way – except that it stirred once more at the idea
there was more to him than she knew. Though she doubted he was
capable of emotions like she was, he was capable of more than he
claimed, too.

“I’ll never tire of conquering you, either,”
he said and nuzzled her neck. His hand circled her neck to release
the clasp of her dress.

Her desire stirred, aided by emotion and
hunger for him. Deidre pulled his head to hers and kissed him long
and hard. Within seconds, their petting grew frantic, and she
shimmied out of her dress before pushing off his shirt.

She groaned at the sensations he caused,
soon drowning in the scent of blood and need to feel him inside
her.

They wrestled, fed and fucked until sheer
exhaustion overtook her, and she slid into a short doze. She awoke
to the sensation of him drinking from her. Darkyn wore her out
enough to where her thoughts no longer spun out of control. Calm,
she was able to focus. The image of Past-Death wouldn’t leave her
mind. She’d felt that level of desperation before and didn’t wish
it upon the woman meant to be with Gabriel.

“Is it wrong for me to want her to be happy,
too, even after all she did?” she whispered.

Darkyn withdrew from her neck.

“I cannot see humans or
Immortals or deities as you do. I see only the parts of them that
hold depravity, weakness. I do not wish them well or
happy
. I evaluate them
for opportunities,” he said. “I understand pleasure, not
happiness.” As he spoke, he slid a nail down her hip, drawing
blood. She shivered at the sensation.

“I know,” she murmured. “You see me
differently now, but did you when we met?”

“I saw what I do with everyone: what it
would take to bring you here,” he said. “You feared death, and I
dangled hope in front of you. You made up your mind to deal with
me, even if Gabriel was not part of your future.”

“When did you figure out I was your
mate?”

“In the shadow world when you told me about
your tumor. As soon as I touched you, I knew,” he said. “You
remember what you were thinking when you turned down my offer the
first time?”

She was quite for a moment, thoughtful. It
was difficult to hear how easily he’d evaluated and cornered her to
get her to Hell.

“You were the first person to give me a
choice,” she murmured. “You’ve been reading my mind from the
beginning, haven’t you?”

“From that moment, off and on. I had to be
sure I even wanted you here.”

“You let me go the first time because you
knew I was your mate. You could’ve killed me and taken the soul out
of my head at any point.”

“Yes.”

She shivered, unaware just how close she’d
been to dying by his hands.

“Is this what all demons do?” she asked.

“Love, what I do to you would kill a demon
many times over.”

She gave a startled laugh. “Are you
serious?”

“Yes.”

“A blood bound, deity’s mate is the only
person who could keep up with you,” she guessed.

“Eternity is a long time to go
unsatisfied.”

It was almost an admission of loneliness, if
a demon had feelings. She understood a bit more why a mate might
appeal to even the Dark One. Darkyn was ancient, according to the
tutorial she’d watched, from the time-before-time. He’d never had a
partner in all his time alive.

“Are you satisfied?” she asked.

“Very.”

“You aren’t going to ask me?”

“I already know you are,” he replied. “I see
your thoughts like mine.”

“All
of them?”

“Even the one where you planned to lie to me
about Wynn healing Selyn.”

“Ah. Okay.” She waited for some sort of
reaction. He was quiet. “Did I make a good deal?”

“You did,” he said. “Carte blanche never
breaks bad for me. You were emotional, though.”

“Yeah. I forgave him, but I just …I think
I’m angrier at myself for falling for all his lies than I am at him
for lying,” she admitted.

“It will become second nature to know when
one lies to you.”

“I felt it,” she said. “I was able to hear
when he lied.”

“Private deal,” he said. “You make no deals
with anyone aside from our private deals.”

“In exchange for…” She frowned, reluctant to
give up the ability.

“A favor of your choosing, so long as it
pleases me to grant it.”

Deidre sat up, staring at him. His cold gaze
was calm and steady, his long fangs resting on his lower lip. The
sight of them thrilled and scared her. He was relaxed, and it
struck her how different he was with her in bed compared to outside
their room.

“You’re serious,” she murmured. “You would
do that?”

“Deal?”

“Yes.”

“I am physically satisfied for the fifth day
in a row, for the first time since I was hatched,” he said. “I feel
generous. Use it wisely, love. You may never get another. You can
try by pleasing me every night.”

“I will try, and I’ll use
it wisely,” she said. “You can trust me.” She looked at him
curiously. “Do
you
trust
me
?”

“You have yet to be tested.”

“But you sense depravity and weakness,” she
said in a mocking tone she hoped was similar to his.

“You are challenging me already.” He flicked
his nail against the pad of his thumb. “I am always ready for a
fight. Are you, mate?”

Deidre groaned. She wasn’t, but she doubted
she’d have a choice. As if sensing she was tired, he didn’t tease
her when she reached for his hand. She sucked his blood clean from
his thumb. The demon purred, watching her. She settled beside him
again, comfortable in bed with him.

“Selyn has asked to see you,” he said.

“I’ll be happy to talk to her,” she said. It
was the first time Darkyn ever brought his daughter up. “Is she
well?”

“Yes.”

His voice never conveyed emotion. Deidre
wasn’t certain if there was any affection for his daughter, though
his persistence in healing her was a sign of either care or
obligation.