Hour of the Dragon - Heather Killough-Walden Page 0,139

years ago?

Everything, she thought.

Again it felt like he’d read her mind when Ares released his hold on her hair to brush the backs of his knuckles across her cheekbones. “Shall I show you?” he asked. His touch was tender, and she knew that tenderness was a lie. It felt like a thin, soft veil over something treacherous. And there was a part of Annaleia that thrilled at that thought.

Standing so tall above her, Ares’ smile became cruel. A heartbeat later, he was gripping her hard again, pulling her against him – and taking her with him over the edge of the balcony.

Annaleia tried to scream as open air greeted their rushing bodies and the sudden gush of wind sent her hair flying, but the sound was caught in her throat. Split seconds after he’d taken them both over the side, Annaleia heard the unmistakable sound of massive wings beating against the air, and their descent slowed.

Another beat and they slowed again, nearly coming to a stop. It took her a few seconds to realize she was airborne but no longer falling. Hovering.

It took her a few seconds more to also realize she had shut her eyes tight and had yet to open them.

“Open your eyes, Leia.”

Somehow Anna garnered enough courage to do as she was told. She slowly pried her eyes open, gasping and stifling all sorts of unflattering whimpering sounds at what she saw.

They had not fallen at all. In fact, they’d climbed higher. She hadn’t been able to see it earlier because of the shelf balcony waterfall that was above her in his cave, but the ceiling of Ares’ cavern was in fact several hundreds of feet high. And when she looked down, she realized they hovered somewhere near the top.

“You’re okay, Raindrop,” Ares told her. Anna heard the words and then also felt them. They moved through her like a spell, forcing her to believe him. So she did. Her death grip on his black leather jacket eased up, allowing blood back into her fingers. Her attention spread out past the thought of immediate death, and she noticed something that sounded like cut electrical wires sparking.

“Now lean back, little one,” Ares commanded.

Not a chance! she thought desperately. But then, just like before, she was reconsidering. She remembered that she was absolutely safe with Ares. She knew he would never let her fall.

With this new courage she slowly straightened in his arms, peeling her cheek from his chest and turning a little so she could see him. Oh my God, she thought… That wasn’t a dragon who had her in his grasp. She stared wide-eyed and breathless. That was a devil. It was Lucifer. It had to be.

Ares laughed, the sound so beautiful it very well could have been the fallen angel in disguise. Or not so disguised. Not anymore.

She’d never seen wings like his. They matched his eyes in their array of color. They possessed the general shape of a bat’s wings but were covered in a shining blanket of feathers like a raven’s wings. Each feather was a transitional ombre from black to amethyst, shimmering and mesmerizing just like his eyes. All along the edges of the immense appendages, like life blood runs through a man’s veins, purple-blue lightning crackled and zapped, filling the cavern’s upper levels with an eerie black light and energy. That was what she’d heard.

The black lightning of his wings was also mirrored in his eyes, as well as the highlights in his black hair. He was too beautiful. It made her ache somewhere inside, somewhere she wouldn’t have been able to find if she’d searched a lifetime.

Like a ghost ache.

He was getting to her in every dimension.

Ares’ arms were secure around her waist already, but his grip on her tightened further before he leaned over and spoke in her ear. “You wanted to know where we are right now,” he told her. “And you were wondering what else I haven’t yet shown you.”

Anna processed that. Her eyes widened again when she realized with a mounting sense of horror that she hadn’t said any of that out loud. He had in fact been reading her mind.

Oh no… no, no, no…. How long had he been doing that? How many of her thoughts had he overheard? Had he always been able to do that? Oh God! She was mortified to think that he could have been listening in on her thoughts in school all those years ago. How could he do that and