The ad-hal served as our protectors. Without them, we would be defenseless.
“This is for you.” Tony handed me a small card. “I was going to wait until tomorrow, but since we started talking, let’s do this now.”
I opened the card. Three words in black ink. You are summoned. The Assembly was summoning me. My actions would be scrutinized. I would have to answer hard questions.
“Don’t worry,” Tony said. “The rallying point is at my father’s inn. I’ll be there to testify. You can bring Sean, too. You’ll need to introduce him to the Assembly.”
“Um…”
“You know you have to do it sooner or later,” Tony said. “It will be okay, Dina. You’re not the only innkeeper to survive the death of an inn, but you joined a very exclusive club today. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Yes, in the morning.” I forced a smile. “Today is Christmas Eve for us. I served some very old wine.”
Tony rubbed his hands. “Then I’m going to help myself.”
“You totally should.”
He hurried to the tables.
I turned and walked away. I had two hours before the feast. I needed to take a shower and think.
* * *
I had just finished my shower when my magic told me Sean was coming up the stairs. I wrapped a towel around myself and opened the door. He was holding a bottle of wine and a tray with some delicious-looking pastries.
He saw me, in a towel, with wet hair on my shoulders. A wolf looked at me from inside his eyes, a wild wolf, hungry, feral, scarred, and every inch mine.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
He stepped inside and set the platter and wine on the bed. A quick dash of anticipation mixed with anxiety rushed through me.
“I put my house on the market,” he said.
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
I was still lost three days ago. He sold his house while I was still out, not knowing if I would come back.
“I have an offer. I accepted it.”
“What if I hadn’t come out of it?”
“I knew you would,” he said.
“How?”
“You don’t give up. And…” He raised his hand and touched my cheek. His rough fingers grazed my skin, caressing. The breath caught in my throat. “You wouldn’t leave me.”
We stood next to each other. Suddenly I was very aware that I was wearing nothing but a towel. The wolf was looking at me through Sean’s eyes, so close, if I reached out, I could touch him.
“This is the part where I should probably do that thing Arland does,” Sean said quietly. “Where he announces that he isn’t a poet, but a humble awkward soldier, and then composes a sonnet on the spot.”
“But you come from the planet of warrior poets. It shouldn’t be a challenge for you.”
“So I’m told.” His amber eyes shone, catching the light of the lamp. His gaze snagged on my lips. He was thinking of kissing me. The realization sent electric shivers through me. I bit my lip. His breathing quickened.
“About that sonnet,” he said.
“Yes?” It felt like my whole life depended on what he would say next.
“I love you.”
That was all I wanted to hear. I didn’t even know until now how much I wanted him to say these words to me. He’d said it before, when I was under, but it was different then. Now it was everything.
“I’ll never leave you,” Sean said. “If you want to stay an innkeeper, I will be one with you. If you want to do something else, I will do that with you. Whatever comes next, I’ll be there, because I want you more than anything I've ever wanted. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.”
I took a step and closed the distance between us. His strong arms closed around me. He bent down and kissed me. He’d kissed me before, but those times paled before this one. He didn’t just touch his lips to mine. He drank me in, seducing, compelling, conquering my mouth. It was an full-out assault, all or nothing. He was offering himself to me and he wanted to know if I was his. I melted into it. I had never wanted anything more.
His hands tightened around me. A shiver ran down my back. His fingers slipped into my hair. I put my arms around him, trying to get closer to the heat of his body. He made a low masculine noise that drove me wild. I fumbled with his T-shirt. He pulled it off, revealing a hard chest corded with muscle, and then he caught me into his arms. My towel slid to my hips. My cold nipples pressed against the heated wall of his chest. I felt so hot, like I was on fire. His hands roamed my body. He made that noise again, that hungry male noise that made me lose my head.
My towel slipped to the floor. He let me go for a breath and then he was naked. We stared at each other in the moonlight slipping through the small window of my bedroom. The silver light slid over him, playing on his broad shoulders, his powerful chest, the ridges of his stomach, and lower, where his hard length made it obvious just how much he wanted me. His eyes glowed like liquid amber, heated from within by intense need. There was no softness in him, just dangerous, lethal strength. He was my wolf, half in the light, half in the shadow. I loved him so much.
I opened my arms. He came to me and swept me off my feet. I kissed his lips, his stubbled jaw, his neck… He dipped his head and nuzzled my neck, his tongue hitting just the right sensitive spot. The burst of pleasure dragged a moan out of me. We landed on the bed. The platter with wine went flying and the inn caught the bottle before it shattered. His mouth slid lower… His tongue grazed my nipple, painting heat over it, the sensation so intense, my whole body tightened in response. An insistent, impatient ache built between my legs. I wanted him to make love to me. The anticipation was killing me. I sank my fingers into his hair and wrapped my legs around him.
“Do you need me to slow down?” he asked, his voice a ragged growl.
“No, I need you to speed up.”
“I can do that.”
He looked into my eyes and thrust inside me, into the liquid heat. Pleasure swept through me and I cried out, thrusting my hips up to better meet him. He kissed me and thrust again, straight into the center of my ache, turning it into bliss. He moved inside me in a smooth rhythm, each thrust stoking the fire until I couldn’t stand it anymore. My body shuddered and waves of pure pleasure swept through me. His body tensed, clenched, and I felt him empty himself inside me with a hoarse groan.
* * *
I lay my head on Sean’s chest and rubbed my foot along his leg. He was smiling in the moonlight. It felt so good to lay next to him. Like nothing in the galaxy could hurt me. So that’s what happiness felt like. I'd almost forgotten.
“Should we get dressed?” he asked, sliding his thumb along my shoulder.
“It’s our inn. They’ll wait for us.”
They would wait, but others wouldn’t. I raised my head and looked at him.
“What is it?”
“The Assembly summoned us.”
“Are we in trouble?” He grinned at me.
“Yes.”
He pulled me closer, his arm around me.
“I don’t want tomorrow to come,” I whispered.
“Why?”
“All the problems will come back tomorrow. The Assembly, the ad-hal, the corruption…” I was so happy right now. I wanted it to last a little longer. Just a few more hours.
“You won’t have to deal with your problems alone,” he said.
I hugged him tighter.
“We’ll look for your parents together,” he said.
I kissed him. A light sparked in his eyes. He pulled me on top of him. His mouth closed on mine—
Beast scratched at the door.
“Aunt Dina!” Helen called. “Mom said…”
I collapsed on Sean’s chest, face down.
“… to tell you that you should wrap around your private time because Orro’s head will explode.”
A quick patter of feet announced her running down th
e hallway. Beast whined at the door, putting extra sadness into her crying just in case I failed to notice it.
Sean patted my back.
I rolled off him. He kissed me again and we got up off the bed.
“One thing,” Sean said. “I’m not wearing a robe.”
“My father wore a robe. All innkeepers wear robes.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Sean Evans, don’t you start with me.”
He bared his teeth at me and bit the air, clicking them.
Tonight was the feast, tomorrow would bring problems, but it didn’t matter. Sean was right.
No matter what the universe threw at me, I wouldn’t have to face it alone.
The Ripper of Souls jumped on the empty bed and regarded us with his witchy cat eyes. Great. We’d had an audience all along. It was probably absurd to be scandalized by a cat, but I was still embarrassed.
Sean frowned. “Where did you get this cat?”
“He was trapped in a glass box in a PetSmart.”
“Did you notice he has a collar?”
“I noticed. I thought about taking it off, but he seemed to like it, so I let him have it. This is my first time owning a cat and I don’t want to damage our relationship.”
Sean grabbed Olasard and held him up.
“I don’t think you should manhandle him like that. I’ve just gotten to the point where he comes when I call him and lets me pet him.”
“Lights,” Sean said.
The electric lamps snapped on. Gertrude Hunt had obeyed him. Huh.
He held the cat out to me, parting the fur with his fingers to expose the collar. A small metal plaque embedded in the blue nylon caught the light. Two letters, engraved in elaborate cursive, shone on the plaque.
S.N.
Sebastien North?
THE END
THE UNDYING KING Exceprt
His people once called him Cededa the Fair, then Cededa the Butcher, and then they called him no more.
Imogen couldn’t help but gawk. Her attacker was the effigy's living twin, only far more painful to behold. The terrible beauty, trapped in marble, was no artist trick but a true reflection of the man standing before her, his malevolence increased tenfold by a piercing gaze that pinned her in place.
Flaxen hair fell past wide shoulders and framed a stern, pallid face. Clad in an indigo tunic and trousers overlaid by a tarnished chainmail hauberk, pauldrons and vambraces, he was heavily armed and armored. A short sword and hand axe were strapped at his narrow waist, and he casually cradled the hook-back glaive whose blade had lightly kissed her neck. Judging by the manner of his dress, he’d not come to talk but to do battle.
Imogen wanted to bow beneath the weight of his scrutiny. He may not be her king, but he was still a king if his resemblance to the effigy was anything to judge by. And not only the king but one possessing the title of The Butcher.
Her back teeth clacked together in a rising chatter as he shifted his stance, and those peculiar eyes narrowed even more. So light a blue they almost faded into the surrounding whites, his eyes reminded her of the blind Blessed—those whose milky gaze saw into the past and the future but never what was before them. Unlike them, Cededa took in the here and now with a predatory gaze. He was as strange and beautifully eerie as the city he guarded. And just as extraordinary. If he’d been human once, he wasn’t now.
* * *
Click to continue reading THE UNDYING KING.
* * *
About Grace Draven
Grace Draven is the award-winning and USA Today bestselling author of RADIANCE and MASTER OF CROWS. In a last ditch effort to avoid doing laundry, she took up writing fantasy romance and hasn't looked back since. Laundry has now been assigned to the kids.
Grace currently lives in Texas with her husband, three kids and a big doofus dog that fancies himself her muse.
Please visit her website gracedraven.com to discover more.
DISCOVER MORE BY ILONA ANDREWS
Kate Daniels Series
Magic Bites
Magic Burns
Magic Strikes
Magic Mourns
Magic Bleeds
Magic Dreams
Magic Slays
Gunmetal Magic
Magic Gifts
Magic Rises
Magic Breaks
Magic Steals
Magic Shifts
Magic Stars
Magic Binds
Small Magics (compilation of short stories)
Hidden Legacy Series
The Hidden Legacy Series is being rereleased in 2017.)
Burn for Me (rerelease 3/17)
White Hot (rerelease 6/17)
Wildfire (coming 8/17)
The Edge Series
On the Edge
Bayou Moon
Fate's Edge
Steel's Edge
The Innkeeper Series
Clean Sweep
Sweep in Peace
One Fell Sweep
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
"Ilona Andrews” is the pseudonym for a husband-and-wife writing team. Ilona is a native-born Russian and Gordon is a former communications sergeant in the U.S. Army. Contrary to popular belief, Gordon was never an intelligence officer with a license to kill, and Ilona was never the mysterious Russian spy who seduced him. They met in college, in English Composition 101, where Ilona got a better grade. (Gordon is still sore about that.)
Gordon and Ilona currently reside in Texas with their two children and many dogs and cats.
They have co-authored several New York Times and USA Today bestselling series. They are currently working on urban fantasy of Kate Daniels, the paranormal romance of Hidden Legacy, and their independently published series, Innkeeper Chronicles.
You can read more about their work on their website: http://www.ilona-andrews.com
Ilona Andrews, One Fell Sweep
(Series: Innkeeper Chronicles # 3)
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