Darkyn's Mate (#3, Rhyn Eternal) Read Online Free

arrived. It
dissipated.
    The odd scent was closer, and she found
herself breathing in deeply to try to capture it.
    “Think about it. When you
win your deal with Past-Death, there’s no requirement for her to be
rendered dead-dead at the end of the week. She may live an
eternity, even if her soul comes to you eventually,” Darkyn
explained. “Gabriel cannot kill his own mate. It’s against the
Immortal laws. Which begs the question: What happens to you in one
week?”
    It was the same question she’d been asking
herself. She didn’t know the answer. She was terrified to find out.
As he spoke, he continued the light stroke of one thumb and trailed
a finger down the side of her face and traced her jaw. A line of
cool fire remained. His touch went down the side of her neck,
lingered on her collarbone then continued down her arm. Mesmerized
by the sensations, her confusion and his direct gaze, she had to
concentrate hard to register what he said.
    “I, um, don’t know,” she murmured then shook
her head. “I mean, this is temporary. It won’t happen that
way.”
    Darkyn’s hand rested on her hip. He drew her
against him. Deidre found herself leaning into his solid frame
without resistance, entranced by the combination of his hot, hard
body and cool fire on her swimming senses. The faint, sweet scent
was close. Calling to her. Tugging at her ability to reason.
    She nuzzled the hand cupping her cheek, and
his thumb traced her lips. He lifted her hand to his heart.
Instinctively, she flattened her palm against his chest once more
to feel his heartbeat. It was the opposite of hers: calm, steady,
strong.
    “You don’t sound certain enough to make a
deal with me.”
    “I … I’m not sure why I should.”
    Touching him felt too natural. He was
saturating her senses, seducing her somehow. She’d walked away from
Gabriel, because he all-but-pushed her away. Darkyn’s intentions
were the opposite. He was using the truth to hammer down her
resistance and his power to seduce her. She didn’t expect it; she
expected him to lie rather than point out the flaws in her
desperate logic.
    The fog around her thoughts grew
heavier.
    Waiting for him to snap or yell as he had
when she arrived to Hell, she touched him timidly with her other
hand to begin exploring the ridges of the scars on his chest.
    “Touch me, taste me, scratch me, bite me,”
he whispered. “You can’t be too rough for me.”
    “You can be for me,” she said uneasily.
    “I made you a deal. I know how to give
pleasure without pain.” By the distaste in his voice, he wasn’t
happy about it. “I won’t hurt you, unless you ask me to.”
    Her hands ceased quivering as she ran them
across his chest, over his firm shoulders and shapely arms before
returning to his chest.
    “Yes or no, love?” he purred. “Will you take
your place in my bed as my mate?”
    “You won’t wait a week?” she asked.
    “Only if you make me a deal.”
    She groaned. The same instincts that warned
her against the last deal with him told her she’d never win any bet
with the devil
    “I’ll give you the terms first this time.
You can gauge the risk.” He chuckled, a sinister sound. “You can
fuck me here, now, the way mates should. Or, when you lose our
deal, you can fuck the Dark One.” He nuzzled her neck, and she
tilted her head. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin without
biting.
    “Oh, god,” she breathed. No part of her was
willing to risk an encounter with Darkyn’s other form. The world
around her was dark around its edges. The fever had taken her out
of her mind and into the alternate reality of a dream.
    Except, when he touched her, it felt real
again.
    Unable to exit the dream fully, Deidre had
no concept of how long they stood before the black flames of the
fire.
    “Choose.”
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    Rather than drink from her, he kissed her.
Unlike Gabriel, who was gentle, teasing, Darkyn was demanding.
Deidre felt herself breathless and consumed before