“Anyhoo? Got to go?” her mother repeated.
His mouth twitched with barely contained laughter.
Ash shot him a glare, then said, “Blame him, Mum. Love you.”
Race’s mirth erupted into deep laughter once she ended her call. “You’re so bad at making up stories.”
“I was trying not to lie,” she grumbled. “I just brushed over the truth because youdolive in Romania, and wedidmeet in the Himalayas.”
He grinned. “Can’t argue there. For me, it was the best save ever.”
“Save?” She arched her eyebrow. “From what? I only ran because I didn’t want to hurt those club-toting twits.”
He smirked as he crawled up the bed and over her, and she fell back laughing. He trailed his nose over the bare skin of her belly, licking her navel. “Now, where were we?”
Much, much later, they made their way down the narrow, softly lit side stairwell in the castle. Evening had fallen.
Race was dressed in his all-black patrolling gear, looking every inch the dangerous immortal he was.
She understood hunting demoniis was his job. Hell, she never realized those vile beings roamed Earth so freely, seeking human souls to steal to keep their dying bodies alive. Still, she couldn’t stop her uneasiness from taking hold.
“I’ve been doing this for millennia, I’ll be fine.” He cast her an indulgent smile, obviously picking up on her thoughts. “So, stop worrying.”
“I know.” Ash exhaled and slipped her arm around his waist. “I can’t believe this is your first time staying here, though I understand why.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Once this is over, we’ll make our home in Romania, or wherever Michael sees fit to drop me,” he said. “In the summer, we can spend time in my cave.”
“I can’t wait to see it…” she trailed off as something he’d said earlier teased her memory. “Race? Back at Talonhold House, you mentioned the Blood Singer foreseeing you’d come into raw powers. What did you mean?”
He paused on the dim stairwell, his brow furrowing. “My family comes from an ancient bloodline. We all inherited some power… The seer told my dam I would inherit the raw power of the gods one day.”
Her eyes widened. “Gods?”
“Aye. My ancestor was the dragon deity, Pyr’xian.”
Ash’s mouth fell open, then shut. “You—you’re partdeity?”
“Much diluted, but yeah.” He leaned against the wall. “Pyr’xian fell in love with a powerful, royal she-dragon and mated her—aftershe pinned him down with her claws.” A ghost of a smile flickered on his tempting mouth. “That’s how our line began. But only one male in each generation wears the Ember Crown. The Blood Singer never named me specifically—just said I would become powerful.”
He folded his arms over his chest, a haunted look crossing his features, his gaze distant, locked somewhere in his past. “It doesn’t make sense. My brothers never cared about any of that—about ascending. They knew I only ever wanted to fly with the Wing Squadron. We three were a unit, always had each other’s backs, no matter what. But when it came down to it…” His throat worked. “They traded me for their lives, and they died anyway.”
At the raw hurt in his voice, Ash reached for him, wrapping her arms around his solid frame. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
A deep sigh escaped him, his breath warm against her neck as he held her. “Not your fault. I just hate that I’ll never have closure until I get that bastard?—”
“You need help, just give us a shout,” a deep voice rumbled from above them.
Ash jumped and tried to pull back, but Race’s arm tightened around her waist.
A few steps above them, the blue-haired warrior stood, also clad in black, and intimidating despite having his leather coat hooked over his shoulder. Nia waited at his side.
“Aethan.” Race nodded at the warrior.
“Hullo, Nia.” Ash smiled, then frowned. “Your hair? I’m sure it was longer earlier. Did you have it cut?”
The woman laughed, running her fingers through the short, choppy inky strands, the overlong bangs falling into her eyes.
Ash blinked. Wait, that wasn’t Nia. She didn’t have mismatched eyes, the color of molten gold, the other as silver as the bloody moon.
