Primal Heat 04 - Forever in Darkness

appeared in his hands, the glittering steel ready for battle.
    “What is it?” Ryland called out his own machetes with a crack and a flash of black light. “I don’t hear anything. Tell me what you got.”
    Kane shoved his teammate aside, his entire soul howling with the need to find the woman. “Where are you?” he bellowed, his voice echoing into the night.
    No response. Just the ominous doom of silence.
    Agony ripped through Kane, loss so severe he went down on his knees, gasping for breath. He braced his hands on the earth, his fingers digging into the moss, fighting against the crushing blackness, the loss, the shredding of his innermost core—
    Help me.
    His head snapped up at the desperate plea that suddenly invaded his mind. His entire being vibrated with rightness at the sound of her voice. He lurched to his feet as her anguish shredded his mental shields and consumed him. I hear you. He sent out his reassurance, his iron-strength, showing her the immense power he offered.
    There was no relief from her. Just another stab of pain that knifed all the way to Kane’s gut. Hurry. Please hurry.
    Son of a bitch! Kane focused every fiber of his soul on her voice, and his entire existence zoomed in on those two words, on her voice, on her spirit, on her very being. Then he found his target. He knew where she was. I’m coming.
    Kane didn’t hesitate. He didn’t pause to question his motives or ascertain what he was heading into. He didn’t even take the time to grab his teammate and take Ryland with him. He just locked onto her location and dematerialized, using her desperation as his only guide as to where he needed to be.

Sneak Peek: DARKNESS AWAKENED
    (The Order of the Blade: Primal Heat Trilogy, Book One)
    (dark & sexy paranormal romance, available now)

    Quinn Masters raced soundlessly through the thick woods, his injuries long forgotten, urgency coursing through him as he neared his house. He covered the last thirty yards, leapt over a fallen tree, then reached the edge of the clearing by his cabin.
    There she was.
    He stopped dead, fading back into the trees as he stared at the woman he’d scented when he was still two hours away, a lure that had eviscerated all weakness from his body and fueled him into a dead sprint back to his house.
    His lungs heaving with the effort of pushing his severely damaged body so hard, Quinn stood rigidly as he studied the woman whose scent had called to him through the dark night. She’d yanked him out of his thoughts about Elijah and galvanized him with energy he hadn’t been able to summon on his own.
    And now he’d found her.
    She’d wedged herself up against the back corner of his porch, barely protected from the cold rain and wet wind. Her knees were pulled up against her chest, her delicate arms wrapped tightly around them as if she could hold onto her body heat by sheer force of will. Her shoulders were hunched, her forehead pressed against her knees while damp tangles of dark brown hair tumbled over her arms.
    Her chest moved once. Twice. A trembling, aching breath into lungs that were too cold and too exhausted to work as well as they should.
    He took a step toward her, and then another, three more before he realized what he was doing. He froze, suddenly aware of his urgent need to get to her. To help her. To fill her with heat and breathe safety into her trembling body. To whisk her off his porch and into his cabin.
    Into his bed.
    Quinn stiffened at the thought. Into his bed? Since when? He didn’t engage when it came to women. The risk was too high, for him, and for all Calydons. Any woman he met could be his mate, his fate, his doom. His sheva.
    He was never tempted.
    Until now.
    Until this cold, vulnerable stranger had appeared inexplicably on his doorstep. He should be pulling out his sword, not thinking that the fastest way to get her warm would be to run his hands over her bare skin and infuse her whole body with the heat from his.
    But his sword remained quiet. His instincts warned him of nothing.
    What the hell was going on? She had to be a threat. Nothing else made sense. Women didn’t stumble onto his home, and he didn’t get a hard-on from simply catching a whiff of one from miles away.
    His trembling quads braced against the cold air, he inhaled her scent again, searching for answers to a thousand questions. She smelled delicate, with a hint of something sweet, and a flavoring of the bitterness of true desperation. He could practically