Lucian dropped the heart some distance from the writhing body and glanced toward the sky. At once clouds gathered overhead, more and more of them coming to his bidding. Shocked, Jaxon watched him orchestrate the storm. Lightning arced from cloud to cloud in a brilliant display. He opened the hand that had extracted the heart, and a fiery ball dropped from the sky into his palm. For one moment the orange flames danced over his skin, reflected in his black eyes; then he tossed the ball onto the heart and waved his hand, spreading the flames.
Noxious black smoke rose into the sky. In it she could see images of death and darkness, violent, misshapen creatures hissing and crying out to the heavens. They slowly evaporated in the smoke, and the rising wind carried them away. Fire raced across the ground, leaping from one body to the other, incinerating the two creatures for all time, erasing all evidence of their existence, as if they had never been.
Jaxon watched as the glass door smoothed, as rain began to lash at the windows of the house, and outside Lucian raised his head and looked at her. Her heart thudded uncomfortably. At once she knew the barrier imprisoning her within the house was lifted. She lay the gun and binoculars on the top step and hurried down the winding staircase to the first floor.
Lucian terrified her—the power he wielded, the fact that he could destroy life so easily, that he could command the very heavens to do his bidding, that he could hold fire in his hand and not be harmed. Yet she wanted to touch him—no, she needed to touch him—to know he had not suffered one single scratch.
Lucian came striding into the house, tall and powerful and dangerous beyond her imagination. His face was expressionless, calm, as always in complete control. But something in the way he moved gave him away, and she faltered in her headlong rush toward him, coming to a halt just inside the living room. Lucian continued to move quickly, never breaking stride, flowing across the room like water, only his eyes alive with something she had never seen before.
“Lucian.” Her hand went defensively to her throat.
He didn’t respond, merely caught her fragile wrist in an unbreakable grip and continued walking down the hall, taking her with him to his den. As they entered, he waved a hand, and flames sprang to life in the rock fireplace. He turned in one motion, his fingers wrapping around her throat. He stepped toward her, locking her against the wall, trapping her with his taller, heavier frame.
Jaxon’s heart missed a beat, and she could only stare up at him with wide eyes. He suddenly looked like the dangerous predator he really was.
“You will never defy me like that again and place yourself in danger.” His voice was so soft she barely caught the words, yet she recognized the iron, the command in it. His black gaze moved over her face, brooding, possessive, gleaming with that extra unknown quality that made her heart pound in fear. Abruptly he lowered his mouth to hers, and her heart stopped completely.
The very earth rocked beneath her feet. She felt his immense strength in the fingers curled around her throat, felt the hard aggression of his body, and knew his sudden resolve. She should stop him—she had to stop him—yet his body was hot and heavy with need, and his hunger was swamping her, overwhelming her. She was going up in flames right there with his mouth fastened on hers and his hand threatening to choke the life out of her as punishment for her needing to protect him. Unable to think clearly, she made a small sound of protest, even as her body relaxed into his.
“Listen to me, little love.” He framed her face with his large hands, resting his forehead against hers. “You do not yet love me, I know. But you are a strong woman, and even facing the monster in me, your first thought was to see to my health. I am frightening to you only because you do not fully comprehend what I am.