Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) Page 15

  Cheeky demon, I teased, ignoring Rowan’s irritation with me.

  CHAPTER 20

  “I don’t understand what your problem is,” I snapped as Rowan let his firm grip on my wrists go after an excessively bumpy jump back to my bedroom, which I suspected was intentional.

  When he let my hands go, I slapped his chest and pushed as hard as I could, searching for any demon reserves that might still be untapped inside me. Rowan didn’t budge an inch.

  He crossed his arms while straightening his shoulders, taking a defensive stance in the middle of my room. He filled the space, making the walls draw in somehow, and I was the one who backed away.

  “His true form doesn’t offend you?” Rowan asked, but it sounded like a revolted accusation.

  “Why should it?” I said, feeling protective of the demon who made my day and helped me forget my problems, even if only for a little while. “Connell prefers being unglamoured, doesn’t he?”

  Rowan’s expression was hard to read, almost blank. When normally his feelings—usually of annoyance—were written all over him, this new, blank calm kind of frightened me.

  What did I care? He could be as closed off as he wanted to be, the damn, aggravating, controlling, scowly...

  But I did care. And his blank stare was causing a dull pain to grow in my chest.

  Rowan was completely unaware, or unconcerned with my physical reaction to his coldness. “You aren’t attracted to Gray. Perhaps I should have realized you’d go for—”

  “What?” I squawked.

  “There are all types of females. If something exists, there is sure to be a living creature that prefers it above all others, no matter how appalling it might seem to some. A female who spurns a Tempter’s advances…” Rowan tilted his head, lifted his eyebrows, but he looked blank, bored. “Perhaps the Fae are more her type.”

  “I like Connell, but not like that.” I stared at his vacant face, his steady stare, and felt the growing dread in my gut, unsure why it was so strong and so chilling. “God, Rowan, what’s wrong with you?”

  He scoffed. “What could a female possibly like about one of the Fae if not—?”

  “I like that he doesn’t hide,” my top lip curled, pushing away the strange anxiety in favor of a borderline smoke-and-fire rage. Only now, I wasn’t so sure I had that in my back pocket. It didn’t feel so malevolent anymore.

  Connell was supposed to be Rowan’s friend. Why was he acting like this? I couldn’t tell if he was trying to offend me, but my words were short and filled with hostility as I snipped, “If there were no other reason, that would be enough for me. I hate glamour. It’s a lie. I wasn’t kidding before. Connell has a choice. You have a choice.”

  I glared. You choose the wrong one.

  Rowan bared his teeth, and hit me with one of those palpable waves of something I kept feeling from him. I felt triumphant at making him angry, if even for a second. Any reaction was better than the blankness I was getting a moment ago.

  “The Fae was hitting on you,” Rowan grumbled, as if that was explanation enough for his reactions. It wasn’t.

  “So?” Was it so hard to believe? I wasn’t ugly anymore. I wasn’t completely empty and emotionless. I telepathed, Why shouldn’t a male want me?

  He sneered, looked away, and mumbled, “you’re Scion.”

  If you use that as a general excuse again, I’ll…

  “You’ll what? Telepath me to death?” snapping his head back to look at me. “Not that I doubt your ability to achieve such a thing. But, it is the only power in your arsenal. Half-caste.”

  I seethed, wrath and exasperation making my bones ache. The muscles in my face twitched. My limbs shook with the force of my surge in blood flow. Yes, I was just a half-caste. But willing to take it as the insult he intended it to be? Not anymore. Especially not from him.

  Fire flooded my vision. I did still have access to it. Smoke smoldered below my surface. It told me to destroy, to rule. To command.

  Unglamour yourself.

  The command was different than any telepath because it literally shook me. My voice never could have gained such intensity before. It was primal, and in that moment, it felt right, like that kind of authority belonged to me.

  To my complete surprise, the tinsel-shimmer of glamour fell across him. I gawked. What else was I to do?

  I’d made him do something he didn’t want to do.

  Rowan hardly looked any different without his glamour, especially since he sneered and glared at me, accusing me of doing exactly the thing I did. At first, I thought he’d tricked me, making me believe he was obeying my telepath.

  But I’d seen the tell-tale tinsel-shimmer over his body. I saw the same exact thing I’d seen other demons do when they lifted their glamour.

  With the same fair hair, the same champagne eyes, the same height, impressive muscle structure, and sun-kissed skin, there was scarcely a difference.

  But there were fangs in his mouth now, each tooth larger, sharper, with four impossibly long canines. And there was a presence to him that screamed dangerous, though I couldn’t figure out if it had anything to do with his appearance. He had retractable claws like a wild cat, and when he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, even that slight movement looked lithe and sure. Exactly like the feline predator I’d classified him as earlier.

  He was unbelievable.

  My eyes grew wide as I realized how to define what my body was feeling. I liked how he looked. I loved that his glamour was hardly a glamour at all. He was remarkable. He was…

  Sexy.

  The smoke-and-fire was washed away in a sea of so many things. A full-body tremble. Surprise. Shyness. Undeniable desire.

  I wanted to touch him. Oh God, I wanted him to touch me.

  And I think he knew it. His glower softened, and I got a wave from his direction that added to the draw I already felt towards him.

  I sighed shakily, and he growled low in his throat and deep in his chest. The muscles along his arms rippled. His champagne irises were flecked with pinpricks of white gold.

  My body needed to feel the power of this male against it. I’d never felt anything so pure. I couldn’t resist the need. Didn’t want to.

  He growled louder, lower, and my shaking went deeper.

  Before I realized I began moving, Rowan was in front of me, unfolding his strong arms carefully so not to touch me.

  He blinked repeatedly.

  My breath was ragged. My pulse pounding a beat in my throat, deep in my belly, and in other places that were going to embarrass me when I thought about it later. I reached out an unsteady hand, and touched my fingers to his arm.

  Ziiiing! Skin to skin.

  Only this time, it was all Rowan. His coarse hair beneath my fingers. His heat. No glamour separating us.

  He flinched, but didn’t pull away.

  Wow.

  At first, Rowan’s moves were reluctant. But I wanted him closer, and he wanted to be closer. If he didn’t, he would have snapped at me, and left.

  “You’re projecting,” he said, and I was afraid I was making him uncomfortable again, but his words came out husky, and he laughed quietly.

  So I said, I’m meaning to, my internal voice matching his husky words. He growled that deep, throaty growl again, and let his head fall so his face buried into my hair.

  His hands found my wrists, just as before when he’d jumped us back to my room, but now, his touch was tender—sizzling, but tender. Rowan’s thumbs made soft circles over my racing pulse. When he began moving his hands along my arms, using his claws against my sensitive skin, I moaned, letting him feel everything I was feeling, and his lethal body trembled.

  Guess projecting does have its uses.

  Rowan chuckled, the rumble next to my ear, the vibrations exhilarating.

  I placed my hands on Rowan’s biceps, encouraging him to look at me. When he did, his champagne and white gold eyes crackled with alluring warmth. I didn’t have to be experienced to know wha
t the heat in his eyes meant. Part of me shook with desire, while another melted under the look of affection, and the unbelievable patience he was showing.

  Because he was letting me control this.

  The most amazing realization struck me. Like the ease of no longer projecting, I felt the key to a puzzle that had evaded me click into place. Suddenly, I just got it.

  I liked him.

  Not only how he looked. I really liked him. Like females liked males. Like he’d thought I liked Connell. Like I’d never been open enough for before.

  Rowan didn’t treat me as fragile, or as less than for being a half-caste. He was the only one who didn’t. He hadn’t been insanely alpha male like I’d told Connell. He’d let me handle Holly and Jake. He took me to Faction even if it could have been dangerous.

  Rowan believed in me.

  The demon saw something in me, and it had nothing to do with my Scion status which I’d done nothing to gain or deserve. Rowan was the only one who told me anything about demonkind, anything at all useful about the Underrealm. He wasn’t manipulative like Grayson, he didn’t bow before me like Cyrus.

  And I craved knowing him in every way a female could know a male.

  There was no doubt he’d be a difficult male to love. I wasn’t even saying I expected to fall for him. But I also knew the idea of falling in love with Rowan didn’t strike me as so far-fetched.

  For now, he was going to be, already was my first crush. And I wanted him to be my first everything.

  I swallowed hard, harnessed my courage, and reveled in how tender the heavily-muscled, temperamental male was being.

  Kiss me.

  My only choice was the telepath. Because I didn’t have the confidence to say it aloud. Because this was the first time I’d even wanted to be kissed, been in a position to be kissed, let alone had such an incredible male to kiss, who might want to kiss me.

  For a moment, I had no question that Rowan would. But when the thundering footsteps making a racket up the wooden stairs registered in my mind, Rowan was out of my arms and halfway across the room before I knew what was happening.

  CHAPTER 21

  Grayson burst into my apartment, then my bedroom, both without knocking, crystal blue eyes flecking with bolts of silver. It took him moments to assess what he saw, jump to conclusions, and focus his rage on the one he thought was the guilty party.

  I didn’t waste my time wondering why the Tempter knew what had been going on even though Rowan was nowhere near me. Even I could feel the charged energy, read the thumping heartbeats, see a Hammer’s astonishment and hint of shame.

  “Did he hurt you?” Grayson’s usually velvet voice was razor-sharp. “Force you to—”

  “What? No!” furious at his intrusion and accusations. “Of course not.”

  I looked at Rowan, who shook himself like a dog and made no move to defend what had been happening.

  “Leave us, Warrior,” Grayson spat, and Rowan, still looking stunned and guilty, though he had no reason to, left the room without giving me another look.

  The floor dropped out from under me, my stomach plummeting with it.

  “You had no right to do that,” I said, still feeling stunned.

  “Your training is complete. You have no reason to be alone in a room with a Warrior,” he said bluntly, his haughtiness harsh.

  There was domineering, wounded pride behind his granite eyes, and my demon half whispered an explanation for Grayson’s actions.

  “You can’t imagine a female choosing someone like Rowan over you.”

  Eyes level, he said, “I am the worthier male.”

  Revolted, I shook my head. “Strip you of your looks and celebrity, you’re nothing but a whiny, elitist playboy.”

  “Warriors are below you, below your station. You are Scion.”

  I’m just a half-caste nobody! I telepathed, and it left me shaking violently.

  You are Scion.

  My hands fisted, my body vibrating. “I still get to choose who I want.”

  “You know nothing of what you want,” he said as if he knew me well enough to make such a declaration. “The Warrior could never be for you what I can be.”

  You’re an arrogant bastard. There’s nothing you can be for me.

  It has been written, Savannah.

  “Nothing has been written. I choose. And I don’t choose you.”

  You will belong to me.

  “I will never want a male like you!”

  Days ago, it wouldn’t have been possible. But along with my newfound appearance, my sensitive skin, the telepathy, and my tendency to feel emotions with extreme strength and clarity, I had a powerful compulsion not to hurt others.

  It didn’t go with my Razer genes, but it was there. And when my words made Grayson turn away, made his granite-grey eyes go glossy and his beautiful mouth quiver, I went to him, my fury extinguished.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, putting my hand on his arm, which now seemed to be second nature to me when a week ago, I avoided all physical touch.

  “Rowan, Bennett, they have your trust, your respect. Even my aide has been allowed into your confidence.” His words were pained, low and unsteady. My demon instinct was suspicious. This was Grayson, a powerful Tempter, advisor to two Royals. There was no way he was this sensitive, this fragile.

  But this new part, this other part of me had to mend what I’d done.

  “They’ve been sincere with me.”

  Grayson turned, and his eyes were pure blue diamonds. His mouth was full and luscious. His candy and spices scent lured me closer.

  “What shall I do to prove my sincerity?” the demon asked, only inches from me now. I was stricken by lust. I wanted to lick and nibble, let myself be taken by this male. He was the one who could…

  What was I thinking? Five seconds ago, I’d said the exact opposite.

  “You enticed the Warrior to lift his glamour.” Grayson touched my cheek. “Is that what you wish from me?”

  What was he asking? What was going on? Was there anything in the world but those diamond blue eyes, those perfect, bitable lips?

  Without knowing what I was saying, I answered, “nothing would please me more,” but it wasn’t my voice. Those weren’t my words, my feelings.

  But I no longer remembered my suspicions once he began to change. Vivid, deep purple intertwined with an underlying pattern of silver on his pale skin, which was almost luminous now. The exact colors of my bedroom were imbedded into his body. His irises were pure metallic.

  “No wonder you’re so conceited,” I whispered, reaching out my hand, willing the demon to stay put so I could touch the liquid swirl of color that decorated his skin.

  He didn’t have horns. He didn’t have reptilian wings or a forked tail. Just a seductive, ethereal beauty and that purple-silver pattern. And also the look of shame on his mesmerizing face.

  Turning away from my touch, Grayson refused to look at me. I wanted to laugh.

  The Tempter had no idea how amazing he looked in his true form. He saw himself as a monster, as an instrument for destruction. He liked to hide. His glamour felt more like him to him.

  I could understand that. Hiding was…just fine.

  The thought felt wrong.

  The silver and purple pattern on Grayson’s skin clung to the pads of my fingers and I examined it, in awe of the colors and of the male it came from. The silver and purple shuddered along my fingertips, exciting the otherwise ordinary place on my body into a fevered frenzy.

  Until the pattern exploded.

  The world disappeared.

  Pleasure-pain was all I knew.

  For so long, time ceased to exist.

  Days could have been lost for all I cared.

  I swam in a sensual dream, hot, true sensation kissing, licking, penetrating.

  It felt real.

  It felt right.

  But it didn’t. This wasn’t me. This skin to skin wasn’t right. Wasn’t mine.

  The deep place insi
de me that I usually feared would devour me saved me. My demon instinct singed my pleasure, strengthened the pain.

  I forced my eyes open.

  Grayson was kissing me. All I could think about at first was how disappointing my first kiss turned out to be, especially since I knew it could have been so much better.

  I squealed and squirmed and he mistook my actions for excitement, and pulled me closer, my full body pressed against his.

  I remembered what happened, but I hadn’t been in control. The pattern imbedded in his skin got on me, stuck to my fingers, and then spread everywhere, stroking parts of me with an unwanted, invisible touch. There had been no chance of resisting him. His eyes had gone black-out silver. He told me to come to him. And I’d pounced with vigor, with a hunger I didn’t know existed.

  Because it didn’t.

  It wasn’t real. These were Tempter tricks and I was some plaything in his games.

  He held my arms against my sides, trapping me in the embrace as he ravaged my mouth. I wanted to bite off the tongue that danced along mine, but knew I now had a much more efficient weapon.

  With all the force I had inside, I telepathed, with my brand new authority.

  Let. Me. Go.

  Grayson threw me across the room as he obeyed. I was lucky I didn’t hit the wall. My bones would have shattered.

  “What is wrong with you?” I screamed, and my apartment shook.

  Grayson, now that he had a moment to compose himself, looked entirely too unapologetic. His expression, his total lack of understanding what line he’d crossed, kicked my anger into overdrive.

  “You are going to be mine, Savannah. I had to let it be known.”

  What does that mean?

  Through my fury, I couldn’t form the words aloud. The smoke-and-fire scorched every nerve ending. I saw bloodied bodies, ash covering their faces, all Grayson’s. Pink flesh and white bone marred by crimson and blackness. It called to me. I wasn’t far from minding its call.

  Except the smoke-and-fire felt different. Strength-and-light. Not smoke-and-fire. Not as scary, but just as powerful.