Page 5 of The Guardian (Dark-Hunter 20)
Seth frowned at the dream god's violent reaction. Solin hadn't fought like that in weeks. If sheer strength of will could sever chains, Solin would have easily broken free.
He'd been right with his assessment. The woman meant something to Solin ...
No, he realized as he saw the murderous rage in Solin's eyes while the god cursed Seth's being and parentage. She meant everything to him.
This is priceless.
Seth grabbed her hands, spun her around in his arms, and pinned her against his body so that she faced Solin. Furious, she fought him like a lioness protecting her pride.
Interesting ...
Solin broke off into a string of more profanity as he tried even harder to reach them.
Very interesting.
He was willing to die to protect her.
I finally found the key. She was the tool to break Solin once and for all. The gods had finally taken mercy on him and thrown him a bone. A slow smile curved his lips.
Until she slammed her head into his jaw with enough impact that it flashed him back to his centuries of torture. It took everything he had not to break her in half. In that one moment, all he could taste was her blood. It was all he wanted.
Kill her and Solin is useless. He'll never talk then.
That knowledge was the only thing that saved her life. But she wouldn't be breathing much longer if she kept this up. In fact, his control slipped even more as she sank her teeth into his hand and bit him until he bled.
Flashing them out of the interrogation hole, he took her to his room. There, he flung her away from him.
She twirled about twice before she caught herself. Her black hair settled down around her shoulders into a silken mantle as she fell into a crouch like some deadly predator about to go for his throat.
He glared at her. "Don't."
Lydia froze at that one word that promised her an excruciating death if she disobeyed. Still, she remained in position, ready to attack if he took even one single step toward her.
His cold gaze held hers prisoner as he reached to his arm and jerked her dagger free of the wound she'd given him. She'd been able to drive it between the armor plates and knew from the blood on her own hands that she'd succeeded in wounding the beast.
But other than the bloody dagger he dropped to the floor, he showed no sign of it. He didn't even grimace from the pain. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it.
I am so screwed.
Who was he?
What was he?
He wiped the blood on his hand across his armored breastplate as if it were nothing. It left an ominous, bright red smear that didn't quite blend in with the burgundy. "You can't kill me, Greek. All you can do is piss me off. I suggest, if you want to keep breathing, you don't do that."
Forget screwed. This went so far beyond that it wasn't even measurable. This was screwed on steroids.
What am I going to do?
Die, no doubt. But not without one hell of a fight.
Seth saw the sanity return to her eyes. Feline topaz eyes that literally glowed with her intrepid spirit. He'd never seen anything like them. And they were what had told him Solin was a liar. The Greek Dream-Hunters, those who protected sleepers from nightmares and other predators of the unconscious, all had vivid blue eyes.
Never had he seen eyes akin to hers.
"Can you speak?" He wanted to know if Solin had lied about that as well.
She shook her head slowly.
At least she could understand him. That was something. Not much, but something.
She started moving her hands in a graceful dance. It was beautiful to watch. And it took him a minute to realize it was her language.
"I don't understand you."
This time she flicked her nails at him. That gesture of obscenity, he got. "Back at you."
Now she moved her hands rapidly and with obvious anger. No doubt she was cursing him as much as Solin had.
Damn, she was beautiful. Not in a classic, perfect way, like a goddess or demon. Her eyes were too large for her oval face. So much so, they almost overwhelmed it. And her nails were ragged as if she chewed on them from a nervous habit.
But her lips ...
Plump, full, and bright pink, they were perfection. The merest thought of them, stirred his body into total rebellion. It made him ache to possess the very thing he should be killing.
No wonder Solin was so protective of her. If she was his woman, he'd kill anyone who came near her, too. How could you not? It was a primal instinct to protect the things that mattered to you.
Not in your case.
True. He was an animal who cared for nothing except himself. It was all he knew. He didn't live life. He endured it. Noir had driven that point home and nothing would ever dislodge it again. His entire existence was basic survival. There was no higher functioning in his mind. None. He did what he was told.
He had no other choice.
And right now, he had a god to break.
"You will stay here," he told the woman. Then he returned to question Solin for what would hopefully be the last time.
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