Born of Night (The League #1)(41)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Nykyrian wasn’t a brutal killer—well . . . that wasn’t entirely true. He could kill brutally. But there was a lot more to him than that. He had a heart.

A true, kind heart, and even though she should be terrified of him, she wasn’t. He’d protected her. Cared for her. Most of all, he touched a part of her that no one ever had before.

And that was the part of her that loved him.

Wanting to put his mind at ease, she left the bedroom and went to find him in his monstrously large house. It took her a few minutes to wade through the lorinas, who were begging for attention. Pushing them aside, she searched the media room, his office.

She finally found him in the exercise room, stripped to the waist, pounding a weight bag. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail as sweat glistened over the muscles that were taut and honed. Each blow he delivered to the bag was one in studied fury, and they caused stats written in what appeared to be Andarion to flash on a monitor across from her. She could feel his anger and pain as if it were her own. And every strike emphasized not only his power, but his lethal beauty.

“Nykyrian,” she said softly.

He hesitated, looking over at her. The bag swung back, knocking him sideways.

Grunting, he pushed the bag away and cursed. Kiara stifled her laughter over the shocked look on his face.

He curled his lip at her. “What are you doing here?” He struck the bag again with his fist. “I might get blood on you.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat as he turned to deliver a succession of fast, angry blows to the bag.

Kiara watched his hands pound into the rough canvas and was distracted by the sound and lights on the monitor. “What are those colors that keep flashing?”

He delivered a staggering blow. “When it turns red, it lets me know that I hit hard enough to shatter human bones.” He slammed a fist into the top part of it. The monitor turned black. “That tells me that if the bag were human, I’d have snapped the neck and splintered the skull.” Again, he struck a series of blows and the monitor flashed several colors that he named off. “Black, orange, red, and purple are death blows. The colors just let me know how much pain they’ll feel before they die.”

She glared at him as a much too graphic image went through her head. “You say crap like that intentionally to horrify me, don’t you?”

He spun about and kicked the bag with his foot. Again it flashed red—another death blow. “I am what I am. Nothing will ever change that.” His hand flew into the bag with a heavy thud that caused the chains suspending it from the ceiling to rattle—black flashed. “And I don’t expect a damned thing from you. Just take your prissy”—orange—“spoiled”—purple—“ass out of my sight before I show you just what Nemesis is capable of.” The monitor flashed red, black, and purple simultaneously.

Kiara’s common sense told her to leave, that he was too angry to talk to, but she couldn’t.

Before she could rethink her actions, she crossed the room and shoved him away from the bag.

Stumbling two steps before he caught himself, he gave her an astonished look. The bag swung in an arc between them. “Are you out of your f**king mind?”

“Apparently. ’Cause I’d have to be to shove at you after what I just saw, but it got your attention, didn’t it? And now you’re going to talk to me.”

Nykyrian raked her with a sneer. “Or what? Don’t think for one minute you can do anything to me someone else hasn’t done already.”

And that was what cut her deepest as she looked at the scars marring his flesh. The horrors of his past would always be there so close to the surface that all it would take was one thoughtless word to remind him of the degradation.

Just like her . . .

Kiara lowered her gaze from his face as pain consumed her, wanting some way to break through his overdeveloped defenses. Then she saw his knuckles. They were dripping blood.

“What did you do?” she snarled, crossing the distance between them to take his bleeding, swollen knuckles into her own hands.

He tried to pull them away, but she held fast. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m used to it.”

She let out a sound of utter disgust. “Why aren’t you wearing your gloves? Of all the times to be without them! What were you thinking?” Then it dawned on her. He’d done it intentionally.

The physical pain numbed the inner one.

He closed his eyes and pulled away.

“Nykyrian, talk to me, please. I swear I’ll listen. I know you aren’t capable of tearing someone apart.”

Instead of soothing him as she’d intended, her words angered him more. He spun on her with a snarl, pushing her back against the wall. His light green eyes raged with emotions she couldn’t even begin to name.

“Do you really think I couldn’t tear someone into pieces?” he ground out in rage. “I was trained to tear men apart so fast that they had the opportunity to see whatever organ I ripped out of them before they hit the floor dead.” His arms, braced on either side of her, tensed. “Have you ever held a beating heart in your hand? Felt the warm, sticky blood slide between your fingers while it pulsed?”

“No, I haven’t,” she breathed, trying to stay calm. He had a soul, she knew it. She’d seen him do too many things that contradicted such brutality. “I asked you once before if you enjoyed killing. Do you?”

He looked away from her.

For a moment, she didn’t think he’d answer, then he shook his head. “I hated it,” he whispered, pushing himself away from her. “Every damned minute of it. But it wasn’t ever that hard to do. All I had to do was reach just below the surface where all my rage dwells . . . all the times when I was wronged and abused. And I pretended they were the ones who’d hurt me. That was all it took to mutilate them.”

He turned around and stared at her with all the horrors of his life burning in his eyes. “You have no idea what lives inside me, Kiara. The absolute need to crush people who are around me. There are times when it’s so commanding that I don’t even know how I pull it back.”

“And yet you do.”

“No. Sometimes it escapes in spite of my best efforts.”

Kiara pulled him into her arms. “I would never hurt you, Nykyrian. But you have to give me time to adjust to the things you tell me.” She cupped his face. “I know you, but I have to reconcile what I’ve heard of you and what I’ve seen with my own eyes. You are a scary person. You know that. But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

Nykyrian froze at what she’d said to him. Disbelief floored him. “What?”

“I love you.”

He jerked back from her, unable to accept that. It wasn’t possible. “No, you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I feel. I know exactly what’s inside my heart.”

Still, he refused to believe her. He had to make her understand what she was dealing with. While he might have been worth something as a child, he’d long since damned himself by his own actions. “I’m a killer, princess. Plain and simple. It’s all I’ll ever be.”

“You can be, but you’re also the man who holds me while I sleep. The one who tenderly cared for me when I was sick even while I cursed you. You’re not just one thing, Nykyrian. Like you told Jana, no one should judge you for what you’ve done to feed and clothe yourself. Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. Have you ever once killed purely for profit?”

“No.”

“Would you ever kill for the money?”

He shook his head.

“Have you ever killed a child?”

“God, no.”

“Then you’re not an animal.”

He stared at her in awe. How did she do it? How was she able to see him—to look at his bare face and eyes—and not sneer or curl her lip when everyone else had?

She brushed a stray piece of hair back from his face and cupped his cheek. “While your past may shock me at times, I promise that it won’t change how I feel about you. Unless you’ve been slaughtering baby bunnies on the side . . .”

He wasn’t amused. “I’ve butchered people.”

“And I’ve seen you do it. But I wouldn’t consider them people. People don’t take pleasure in hurting others. Even when you killed Arast, did it give you pleasure?”

“No.”

“Then you’re a better person than most, and that is why I love you.”

Stepping away from her, he leaned against the wall, watching her with hooded eyes. “I don’t care if you turn me in, but I want you to swear to me you’ll never betray Hauk, Syn, Darling, or Jayne.”

“I would never betray any of you.”

Nykyrian nodded as she closed the distance between them. He took her hands and turned them upwards. “In your palms, I’ve placed my life, my secrets,” he whispered, his breath falling against her cheek, making her skin tingle. “I give you freedom to leave me at any time. I’m not easy to love. No one ever has. All I ask is that you always keep your silence, if not for me, then for the families of the others you’d destroy.”

Kiara blinked back tears at the sound of resignation in his voice. He expected her to turn on him just like Syn’s wife. But she would never do that.

“I could never hurt you, Nykyrian. You can trust me. I swear it.”

His lips covered hers, burning her as he kissed her passionately. Kiara welcomed the feel of his warm mouth, the hunger of his need. She clutched him to her, needing the feel of his body against her.

She ran her hands over the hard, muscled flesh of his ribs. To her shock, Nykyrian jerked and laughed.

She stilled her hands and looked up at his face. “Was that a laugh?”

He looked as baffled as she did. “I think I’m ticklish.”

Devilishly, Kiara ran her hands back over his ribs. True enough, he was ticklish. His rich, throaty laughter filled her ears and her heart with happiness. She kept tickling him, delighting in the way he squirmed.

“Mercy,” he cried at last, his eyes bright.

She gave one last rub before she pulled her hands back. “Okay.” She kissed his cheek.

He pulled her to him, his eyes serious, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Don’t ever leave me,” he said in a ragged voice that tore through her.

“I won’t leave you.”

In one deft movement, he pulled her nightgown from her body and lowered her to the floor. Kiara welcomed the feel of his skin against hers even though he was sweaty. Strangely enough, he didn’t stink. It was a warm musky scent that made her instantly wet.

She caressed the hard tendons of his back that were covered with deep scars, wanting to keep him with her forever. “You lied to me, you know.”

He scowled at her. “How?”

“You told me you slept with Nemesis every night.”

His gorgeous dimpled smile teased her. “No, I said I f**ked him, which I do. I screw myself over pretty much every day, or at least on a regular basis.”

She rubbed her nose against his. “You’re terrible.”

Not around you, I’m not. Nykyrian stared at her in amazement. What was it about her that tamed the anger inside him . . . well, not when she pissed him off. But right now, her touch quieted all the fury that lived inside him. His soul was at peace.

How did she do that?

Lowering his head, he took possession of her mouth and tasted her. Her scent and soft skin succored him like nothing ever had.

For this he would be willing to die.

She wrapped her legs around his waist. He pressed his cheek to hers as he savored the sensation of being held. Her br**sts pressed against his chest as he breathed her in. He pulled back to stare down into those eyes that reflected his face back at him. It was the first time he could look at his reflection and not a sneer.

The child’s eyes had shown him a monster.

Kiara’s showed him the man.

And he wanted to be that person she stared at so adoringly. Rolling over, he set her on top of his bare stomach. The hairs at the juncture of her thighs teased his skin and made him even harder.

Kiara took Nykyrian’s hand and grimaced at the blood still on his knuckles. “We should take care of this.”

He pulled a towel to him that was on the floor a small distance away and wiped at the blood. “Trust me, I don’t feel it.”

She took his thumb in her hand and nibbled the pad, tasting the salt of his skin. “You are a masochist, aren’t you?”

“Most assassins are.” He traced his free hand over her breast, toying with her nipple. “You know, I’ve never had sex with the same woman twice.”

Dropping his hand, she arched a brow at that. “You really do stink at social skills, don’t you? Telling me you’ve been with a bunch of different women isn’t exactly the thing to do . . . especially right now. Just so you know, it’s really a buzz kill.”