Darkness Everlasting Page 62


By the gods, there was nothing better than the feel of her warm skin pressed to his own. It was like being shrouded in heated silk. A fantasy for any vampire.


Dipping his head downward, he nuzzled her neck, nipping at her skin as the scent of her blood filled his senses.


With an effort he resisted the urge to slide his fangs into the curve of her neck. He was already hard and aching. The moment he tasted of her blood he would be lost.


Trailing his mouth over the line of her collarbone, he kissed the hollow beneath it before exploring the delicious curve of her breast.


Darcy gave a soft sigh as her fingers tangled in his hair.


"Styx."


"Yes, angel," he breathed, his lips closing over the hard tip of her breast.


"Styx, I want..." Her words broke off as he suckled her with growing insistence. "Wait, I can't think."


"You are not supposed to be thinking," he assured her, turning his attention to her other breast.


"But I want to complete the ceremony."


Styx froze before slowly lifting his head to meet her wide gaze.


"What did you say?"


She reached up to cup his face in her hands. "I want you to be my mate, Styx."


A fierce, near painful joy clenched at his heart, but he sternly kept his expression guarded.


"Do you know what you are saying?"


A sparkle of amusement entered her eyes. "I may look like the traditional ditzy blonde, but I usually understand the words coming out of my mouth."


His brows lowered at her teasing. "Darcy, to mate with me is not like a human marriage. You can't walk away from this. We would be bound for all eternity."


Her gaze remained steady. "Well, I don't know if I have an eternity, my love, but I do know that whatever time I have I want to spend it with you."


His fingers captured her chin as he searched her eyes for the truth of her words.


"This is what you truly want?"


"This is what I truly want."


A smile slowly curved his lips. His mate. For all eternity.


"So be it."


Her smile echoed his. "Tell me what I need to do."


Holding her gaze, Styx reached to lightly trail a linger down the curve of her neck. He could smell the warm blood that ran just beneath her pale skin.


"I must drink," he whispered softly.


He almost feared she might balk. Although she had freely given of her blood, this was more than just a feeding. It was a binding that would tie her to him with no hope of escape.


Besides, it wasn't the sort of romantic ceremony most young girls dreamed of.


But with a readiness that caught him off guard, she pressed his head down to her throat and softly urged him to take what she offered.


Styx gave a soft moan as he slid his fangs into her waiting flesh.


Swift pleasure flared through his body. He was prepared for the sensations. The intimate sharing of blood was always erotic. But he hadn't expected the surge of searing bliss that rolled through him like a thundering wave.


"Darcy."


With a low groan he slid his hand down her body, seeking the heat between her legs. To his relief he found her already wet for him. He needed to be inside her as he took her blood. To complete the binding in the most intimate way possible.


As if sensing his need, Darcy wrapped her legs around his hips and arched in silent invitation. Styx gave a soft hiss as he positioned himself and slid into her with a deep thrust.


A shudder shook his body as her tightness wrapped about him. This was paradise, he realized as his mind clouded with pleasure and his hips moved with a fierce insistence. This was the perfection of a man and woman truly mated.


Struggling against his building climax, Styx slipped his hand between them to stroke the center of her heat. He felt her shiver in pleasure, her nails biting deep into his skin.


He jerked in dark delight as her blood flowed through him. He could sense her heart, her pleasure, her boundless love, her utter commitment to him.


As if they had been seamlessly blended into one being.


And nothing had ever been so wonderful.


Styx heard Darcy's soft gasp and then the tiny ripples of her pleasure clenched around him. His brief moment of control was lost as he surged forward and poured himself into her.


"My mate," he breathed, his head lowering to press his face into the curve of her neck. "My eternal angel. My salvation."


Chapter Twenty-Five


It was a series of low curses that woke Darcy from her deep slumber. With a lazy stretch, she forced her heavy-lids open and discovered herself alone in the bed. Not surprising, she ruefully acknowledged. The past two weeks had taught her that Styx was ruthless in his demands on himself, sleeping only a few hours before returning to his endless duties of Anasso and of course, devoting a great deal of the night to pampering his mate.


Suddenly, she was no longer that lonely outcast struggling to survive without family or friends.


Turning on her side, she regarded the crimson markings on her arm with a dreamy smile. In less than a month, she had collected a family of werewolves, as well as friends who included gargoyles, demons, and goddesses. And a heart-stopping, bone-melting, to-die-for vampire for a mate.


All in all, not a bad few weeks.


With a chuckle, she pushed back the covers and reached for the heavy robe that was tossed at the foot of the bed. It was several sizes too large, but at least the thick brocade was a welcome warmth. Styx hadn't lied when he'd warned that the caves would be cold and damp.


Once again the sound of low voices floated through the air, and with a sense of curiosity, Darcy headed toward the opening.


She had never expected to be alone with Styx in the remote caves. He was the Anasso and as such must be protected by his Ravens at all times. But the five vampires who formed Styx's Secret Service were usually so silent that it was impossible to know when they were even around.


Surely something must have happened for them to be making actual noise?


Belatedly wishing she had taken time to pull on a pair of socks, Darcy entered the large room that was connected to the bedroom. Her gaze first went to the large fire burning happily in the fireplace before slowly searching the chamber to discover Styx and two of his Ravens in the center of the room.


Her eyes widened as she took in the large pine tree that was leaning precariously from the tub of sand it had been stuck in, defying all attempts by the vampires to stand straight.


Instantly sensing her entrance, the three vampires turned as one, the two Ravens giving a deep bow before silently sliding from the room.


Darcy barely noticed their retreat as she walked toward the tree with a faint frown.


"Styx ... what is going on?" she demanded.


Attired in nothing more than a pair of leather pants and his hair hanging loose down his back, the vampire looked just about as delectable as a man could look.


And when he smiled ... sheesh. Darcy struggled not to drool.


"Attempting a surprise, pet," he said, with a rueful grin. "Without much success, I must admit."


She gave a slow shake of her head, her heart doing an odd flop as she abruptly realized what she was seeing.


"Is that a Christmas tree?"


"Yes."


Her gaze dropped to the gaudily wrapped boxes set on the floor. "And ... presents?"


"I believe that is the tradition, is it not?"


Her breath caught as he bent to pluck one of the boxes from the floor and moved to stand directly before her. It had been years since she had celebrated Christmas. And even in her youth it had never been a day that truly captured the warmth and peace she had so desperately needed. Not when she was so obviously unwanted.


In this moment, however, her fantasies were complete.


"Oh, Styx," she breathed as she took the box from his hand.


His expression was unbelievably tender as he touched her cheek. "It's your first Christmas with your new family. I wanted it to be memorable."


She moved close enough to press her face to his bare chest, reveling in the feel of his cool skin beneath her own.


"It is perfect."


"Open your present, my love," he urged.


Pulling back, she hid her smile at his hint of impatience. How anyone thought this vampire aloof and indifferent was beyond her. She had never known anyone who cared more for others.


With swift motions she tore the paper from the small velvet box, and with an eagerness that seemed to please Styx, she flipped open the lid to reveal the large, outrageously flawless ruby ring within.


Stunned, she lifted her head to meet his searching gaze. "Good . . . heavens."


Taking the box from her nervous fingers, Styx plucked the ring from its resting place and gently pushed it onto her finger.


"I believe it is a human tradition to exchange rings between mates?" he said huskily.


She gave a shaky laugh. "Yes, but this is much more than a wedding ring."


His hand closed over her fingers. "It doesn't please you?"


"It's beautiful, but it's too much. You shouldn't have—"


"I wanted to," he interrupted firmly, his finger slipping beneath her chin as he gazed into her wide eyes. "I want you to be happy, Darcy."