Embrace the Desire Read Online Free Page B

her. “I owe you my life.”
    “Nonsense. What Damon did to you was because of me; it was a shameless and cowardly thing. There is nothing I can do to make those things up to you, so allow me to assist you in this.”
    Tears came to her eyes, her heart breaking all over again. She didn’t dare mention that somehow, Damon, in human form had made her fall hard for him. “I can never pay you back enough for saving me.”
    “Let me help you again.” His voice was almost pleading. “Allow me to send him to you so you’ll have a better chance of surviving.”
    She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
    “And if I can’t go through with it?”
    “You must. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Do it for the children at the academy. Just make sure you survive.”
    Survive? He made it sound like an invitation to a death match, but then that’s what it was. With a ragged breath, she answered, “Okay.”

Chapter 4
    In the pit of the Algea’s lair, Payne succumbed to the betrayal of his mind to his tortured body. He screamed viciously as steel spikes fell upon his limbs pinning him to the marble slat beneath him. In the darkened recesses of his mind, he heard Gyth’s personal hounds of misery, the Algea, taunting him. Akhos and Lupe laughed as Ania begged them to let her have a turn.
    The spikes vanished and his wounds started to heal, his bones mending as his shattered mind slowly gathering tidbits of information about his surroundings. A need for retribution slithered through his soul as his numb body refused to move. It was times like these that he was grateful for his ability to heal so well. Being the son of Damon had its advantages.
    Ania, a black-haired slender wisp of a goddess, crossed the black marbled floor and stood in front of Payne’s mangled, but healing body. Her hair was swept up on top of her head with a golden tiara firmly nestled in its curls. She wore a short white silk chiton that came just above her knees, gold sandals were on her tiny feet laced up her legs just under her knees. Gold bracelets dangled on her arms and gold earrings dangled from her ears down to her shoulders.
    She was devastatingly beautiful in a dark, sultry, maddening kind of way. Maddening to the point that Payne would gladly gouge out her eyes or his own for that matter. He felt the urge to laugh, but his throat wasn’t working properly.
    She pouted. “Come on Payne. Hurry and heal so we can play.”
    He wanted to choke the babbling witch until her black eyes popped out of her head. Of the three spirits of pain, she was his least favorite. Being the most abhorrent of the menacing trio, she was the most worthy of his hatred. The goddess of sorrow, grief, and mental distress, she could, with a single, slight touch, take a man to his knees and turn his hand on himself, causing him to take his own life.
    His psychotic laughter filled the dark chamber. But he was no man, he was Payne! Let her do her worst.
    Before his body had healed enough to allow him movement, Ania reached down and ever so gently ran her fingertips over his brow. Her hysterically gloomy chuckle split through his hard exterior and despair clutched his entire being. Dangerous and volatile emotions tore through his mind like red-hot daggers, sending him back through time.
    Ania’s voice echoed softly, her words scorching his thoughts. “Deeper inside than ever before. Let me see your pain, your suffering, your heart’s torture.”
    No matter how hard he tried, the images and memories surfaced like oil from water. His earliest memory took over, drowned out the male that he was and took him down the venomous path to self-destruction.
    His mother, head witch of the coven he was raised in, lifted her hand, and with a howl of anger beat him until he passed out. When he woke, she was kneeling over him, his blood dripping from the dagger in her hand. Naked and afraid to move, to breathe, to cry, he watched as his mother carved into his skin over his