Nox would take Rayne in so violent a storm as to rival the one inside her. A hurricane of passion and pain to slake all his needs with enough friction to counter a lightning strike. He’d take his satisfaction in her destruction and consummated swells until Rayne drowned in turbulent ecstasy.

If only she would arrive in the dream.

Nox sat and waited on his throne for three hours thus far, staring at the emblem on his ring. His body rested in his quarters within the Bakersfield, California CoN compound. Sacramento’s facilities no longer existed. An unfortunate necessity and nothing more.

Korac, ever the professional, had attended to the cleanup. The General even placated Colita back into her role—All business Nox appreciated his second-in-command for managing on his behalf. The King of Cinder would take all of it into consideration when Korac lost the wager in the coming months. While victorious, Nox would remain generous in his triumph and grant his General leniency of his choice.

But that was a matter to contend with later.

Where was Rayne?

Surely after all her precious proclamations of love and unity the night before, Rayne would arrive eager to discuss her imaginative arrangements further.

In the last twenty-four hours, the hope which had shone in Rayne’s bright blue eyes visited Nox near every thirty seconds or thereabouts. Such potential, so easily stoked with words and cemented with longing kisses. The sweet perfume of Rayne’s arousal, the silkiness of her skin, and the way Nox’s name fell from her lips on a gasp.

Every.

Time.

Rayne was exquisite.

If not for their distance on this tour, Nox feared the loss of his control, such was the urge to touch Rayne in person. He would risk everything to claim her, to feel her hair bunched in his fist and to watch her eyes widen in surprise during her first release. The first of many, contributing to a list of Nox’s conquests over Rayne.

“You lied to me.”

Nox glanced up and saw Rayne’s appealing shape through the pyre. As the flames licked and danced, he caught glimpses of her eyes, staring into him like cobalt glass—hard and fractured. Rayne’s accusation held a deadly promise Nox could kiss out of her, she was so under his influence now.

Still, this conversation should prove entertaining. Nox said, “Perhaps. Can you be more specific?” He let the smirk into his voice, lest she not see it for the perception filter.

Rayne danced around the pyre, saying, “You never wanted to heal this rift between our people. You let me go on believing you’d actually consider diplomacy over invasion without ever hearing a word I said. Because you know what you want. Don’t you, Nox?”

When Rayne stood before the throne, Nox did know what he wanted. The same complication which drove him to destroy the compound last night. The same complication standing before him now.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

But this—her words—were all lies.

“Celindria—”

Rayne shook her head in disdain and disappointment.

“—You know so little of the history which drives the Icari. You can’t understand how immature your notions of love saving our two worlds sounds to me. Don’t insult the suffering of my people by simplifying this matter with a single emotion. We are dying!” Her innocence angered Nox until he pounded his fist on the throne and stood, towering over the young woman before him.

Intimidation was lost on Rayne, such was the case from the beginning. She squared off against him, her voice thickened with grief. “I want to help.”

There it was again.

A tug, a nudge—a confusion which had occurred to Nox throughout the years of their sparring. Rayne’s beguiling determination threatened his resolve to see her as Celindria’s descendant. This girl was the reincarnation of evil, and Nox had spent eight thousand years planning to send her to the Wrong Side of Eternity.

But there were other ways…

Quieter, Nox said, “You can help.”

Rayne looked away, trembling and devastated before asking, “Nox, why do you want me?”

The way she asked it assumed she already knew the answer. Still, Nox indulged her with the truth. “Your tenacity and righteousness—So potent you could form a religion with it. It’s in your stance when you fight, your eyes when you’re sure you’re winning, and in your smile when you try to convince me there’s a future for us. You’re intoxicating, Rayne.”

Tears spilled from her lashes, ones she forcefully wiped away. Rayne’s heartache nearly convinced Nox of her sincerity. It seemed to take all her might to meet his eyes. Then she pointed at his hand—at his ring. Her voice shook, half in sobs, as she said, “You don’t want me.”

The certainty in Rayne’s broken voice—the wound she nursed, cut by the idea Nox was lying about his desire for her—Well, it required correction.

Nox took a single step and crossed the space between them. He stared down at Rayne, letting his hunger into his eyes, into his voice. “Oh, I do want you. I intend to spend every night until the invasion proving how much. Then after which, you’ll beg me to take you.”

Rayne shivered, but held firm. “I know you want my blood, not me.”

“Every. Night. Rayne. And soon, I will have both.”

Relief and self-loathing stormed in Rayne. The contrast cast clouds of doubt in her eyes, electrified by her own longing.

All according to plan.

With a pained cry, Rayne punched him.

Nox evaded, weaving left then right to avoid her next swing. He backed away from her, letting the young woman’s attempts to find catharsis dissipate into thin air.

Frustration mounted in Rayne, and she threw in some impressive leg work. An effective roundhouse kick, Nox blocked. A cartwheel kick. A leg sweep.

All of which Nox expertly evaded. Even as Rayne backed him against a wall, he moved away from her fists until they smacked into the stone and left bloody impressions.

Rayne cried, the salt of her tears tasting of desperate denial. She wanted him and hated herself for it.

Nox kept close to the wall, getting some distance between them.

When Rayne shored herself for a major offensive, Nox knew it was time. She ran up to him, kicked off the wall for some height, and aimed to wrap her legs around his neck.

The takedown.

Nox killed Rayne’s momentum by catching her mid-air around the waist and slamming her back against the wall. He kissed her, rough enough to smack her head into the stone. She kissed back, the taste of her tears on her lips mingling with her natural sweetness. She didn’t stop him from deepening the kiss with his tongue or lowering his hands to her hips.

Instead, Rayne ground against Nox, granting him permission to do the same.

But as delicious as this was, it would never be enough.

Nox balled a fist in Rayne’s hair and pulled back enough to hurt. She gasped against their kiss, and he raised her up by the thighs with a squeeze hard enough to bite his nails into her bare flesh.

Pain.

Passion

Destruction

Consummation.

Nox took Rayne, fueling the flames of her self-hatred and tormenting her with ecstatic agony.

This was the only future for them.