Primal Heat 05 - Darkness Reborn

of intensity and connection. It had been amazing and powerful, touching her soul in the most beautiful way.
    She smiled as she trailed her fingers through his hair, basking in the softness of the strands. Kane was different from Mason. More powerful. More intense. More burdened. It was terrifying, but at the same time, exhilarating and intoxicating.
    With a sigh, Sarah ran her fingers down his neck, then frowned when she felt the ridges in his skin. She lifted her head to look more closely, and then her heart broke at what she saw. His entire body was covered in markings carved into his skin. She recalled now seeing the scars when he'd first appeared, but then chaos had erupted and she hadn't thought about it again.
    Last night when they'd made love, it had been too dark for her to see them, and she'd been so close to death she hadn't felt them with her hands. His body had been shadows, salvation, and her only hope at life. But now, to see the extent of the damage to his skin... Who had done that to him? Her body went cold at the idea of how much he must have suffered.
    Then she recognized the shape of one of the scars on his shoulder blade, and she stiffened. No. Impossible. It couldn't be. She leaned closer, and her mouth went dry.
    She propped herself up for a better look, and foreboding filled her when she confirmed her first reaction. Carved in Kane's skin was the same talisman that she'd given to her brother to keep him from being consumed by the curse that haunted all the men in her village. It was the same talisman that hung on the door of every house in her village. It was the same one that had dangled from the neck of her husband as he'd struck down their child.
    And it was all over Kane's body, plus dozens more she didn't even recognize. Was he from her village? She went rigid in sudden fear, as memories assaulted her. Of stories told to her as a child, warnings of Los Muerte, the black specter who had haunted the woods. Los Muerte had nearly wiped angels from their village single-handedly six hundred years ago in a violent fortnight of death and destruction. He was the monster that had sired the race of creatures who hunted her even now. The one that nobody could stop. "Oh my God." Was Kane actually Los Muerte? Had he finally returned to finish what he had begun so long ago?
    Her heart pounding, her instincts screaming at her to run, Sarah squirmed her way out from beneath Kane, horrified by the desire that licked through her as his arm slid across her belly. Her skin pulsed at the feel of his bare skin against hers, desire racing through her even as panic hammered at her.
    Still in his healing sleep, Kane grunted and reached for her, his strong hand wrapping around her ankle. Sarah froze, terrified, waiting for him to rear up and attack her...but his touch was warm and gentle. Reassuring. His thumb stroked her ankle bone, a casual but seductive caress that made longing cascade through her belly.
    How could this man be Los Muerte? She'd seen inside him. There'd been no death, no destruction, just the honor of a warrior who had given his life to his mission. Then she remembered the emptiness inside him, the gaping darkness that had fought for him, trying to take him from her. His complete lack of a soul. She'd had to fight for Kane to access enough of his humanity to reach her, and only her white light had created the fissure that had enabled her and Kane to break him free enough to save her.
    Frowning, Sarah knelt beside him, a sense of rightness settling on her as he cupped her calf and shifted closer to her, pressing his face against her lap. She touched the markings on his back, tracing the designs as she looked at them more carefully. There was definitely the one she'd first recognized, but there were others that also matched those in her village. The concentric circles that were engraved on the fountain in the old village. The tear drop that was carved into the boulders at the entrance to the old pit. Plus so many others she'd never seen before. All the designs were overlaid, as if whoever had carved them hadn't wanted even a breath of space between the talismans.
    Had they been protecting Kane from the demon trying to take him? Or were the talismans the very thing destroying his soul? "What are you, Kane?" she whispered. "What happened to you?"
    He moved suddenly, gripping her arm. She tensed, but he didn't awaken. Heat burned in her forearm where he touched her, and she looked down, expecting to