21 Shades of Night, page 339
Kalena sat down on the edge and slid her panties down her legs. Then she laid back and spread her knees for him. She loved watching his cock harden like a rock before her eyes. This time, his cock pulsed as his eyes swept along her legs and he paused to admire her sex.
Thane crawled on the bed, moving between her thighs. His palms stroked up her legs and his lips left a heated trail on her skin. He slid his fingers between her wet folds, pushed his shoulders back against her legs to open her wider, and then took a hungry lick at her pussy. He played with her, dipping deep inside her and against her sex until she was arching on the bed. Pushing his tongue against one side of her clit, he flicked her there until she was feverish with need. She let go of all control, released all restraints, and surrendered to him. Intense energy raced down her spine, tightened in her loins, and then pulsed out of her. She cried softly as she came against his tongue.
As Kalena came crashing down from her climax, Thane rose above her and fit his body tightly to hers. She laced her fingers through his hair and took his lips, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and tasting the sweet honey that was hers. She wrapped her legs around him. His soft, guttural groan filled her mouth. He held her in his arms and drove into her pussy. His thrusting was persistent and matched the rhythmic rise and fall of her hips. He made love to her tenderly and thoroughly.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.
“You won’t. This is love, Thane. Not pain,” she said, sliding her hair away from her neck and exposing her throat.
As he always did, he pressed his face to the curve in her shoulder. His lips trembled against her skin. His pacing slowed within her as he prepared to deliver the bite that would bind them together. A vampire to his mate. He positioned his fangs against her jugular and drove them deep into the pulsing vein.
She screamed from the shock, but the pain lasted only a few seconds before there was immense pleasure. He withdrew his fangs and suctioned her blood from the wounds he’d made. He lapped at her skin, coveting each drop. She could hear him swallowing as her blood flooded his mouth. The feeding lasted for minutes. And with each pull from his mouth, she felt a little piece of her soul leaving her, binding her to Thane. One day, she’d give up her soul completely to be like her mate, but taking her as she was now was pleasure for him. She wouldn’t deny him that. She wouldn’t deny herself that. They weren’t exiled anymore or living off borrowed time. They had time to love and cherish. And grow and learn.
The intensity with which he fed took her to the highest levels of ecstasy, and she came apart again in his arms. He tore his mouth away from her wound and then sighed deeply. He licked his lips and moaned. His release burned through her like an exotic wildfire that could not be tamed. With every pulse of seed within her, she felt a little piece of vampire elixir consuming her.
When their shared climax was complete, she held onto him. Her sex throbbed with satisfaction and the bite on her neck tingled as he breathed heavily against it.
“You are my everything,” Thane said to her. “Remember when you told me that you would never marry a man? Well, you were right. You married a vampire.”
Kalena smiled; impressed that he’d remembered that declaration. “You are my man. The only man for me. My wolf. My vampire. You are my everything.”
* * *
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Amber Ella Monroe loves weaving tales where undying love is the main element. When she’s not writing, she’s plotting. When she’s not writing or plotting, she’s reading. She’s a thirty-something-year-old wife, mother, book hoarder, 90s music fan, earl grey tea drinker, dark roast coffee fiend, platform and stiletto shoe collector, Keurig lover, and martial arts/action movie fanatic.
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JUMP TO...
BENEATH THE BROKEN MOON by SARAH MÄKELÄ
CLOSE LIAISONS by ANNA ZAIRES
TAKEN BY THE BEAST by KRESSLEY & HAMILTON
NIGHT HAWK by J.E. TAYLOR
ROOK by JC ANDRIJESKI
THE LOST QUEEN by ANGEL LAWSON
A PRESCRIPTION FOR DELIRIUM by NOREE COSPER
REAPER by K. DE LONG
PURGATORY by SUSAN STEC
FORBIDDEN LOVE by TERRY SPEAR
THE WOLF, THE WITCH, AND THE WASTELAND by JACQUELINE SWEET
KNIGHTS OF STONE: MASON by LISA CARLISLE
HUNTER UNDONE by EDEN ASHE
SOUL TIES by LJ SWALLOW
WOLF IN EXILE by AMBER ELLA MONROE
AWAKENED by LAXMI HARIHARAN
HIGHLANDER’S KISS by JOANNE WADSWORTH
THE WATCHER’S DAUGHTER by CJ FLYNN
DARK WINGS by SKYLA MADI
DESIRING DEATH by C.P. MANDARA
WITCH OF THE CARDS by CATHERINE STINE
AWAKENED
Book 1, Many Lives Series
BY LAXMI HARIHARAN
Copyright © 2012 by Laxmi Hariharan
To become herself, Ruby must turn her back on everything she ever knew
Ruby Iyer must save her city, save her friend, save her soul. For the first time in her life, she knows exactly what she must do. As criminals run rampant, it's up to Ruby to save the city that she holds so dear. Armed with a weapon most would kill for, Ruby enlists the help of the sexy and irresistible Vik Roy, a rogue cop. Together, they embark on a perilous journey.
Vik may be the only person Ruby can truly count on—and need. The more they work side-by-side, the more intense is the attraction between them. And, when the chemistry finally ignites, neither can deny the desire for each other.
But when they begin to uncover secrets—secrets Ruby was never meant to learn—she doesn't know who she can trust. Her friends may be her enemies, and her enemies just might be out to save her.
Now, it's up to Ruby to not only battle for her city, but fight to protect her heart as well.
Cover design & all stories copyright © 2015 Laxmi Hariharan
All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
WCAUK Reg No 3455856552
Chapter 1
I SHOULD BE dead and headed for my funeral pyre. Except in a final desperate attempt to slow down my fall, I put out my hand, grasp the concrete edge of the platform and scream as my fingernails tear.
There's a low rumbling, growing louder.
The noise heightens, building, and then, it whooshes towards me.
The 8:05 a.m. local train to Churchgate station blares its horn, coming straight at me.
My heart slams with panic, mind gone white with fear and I can't think. Can't. Breathe. I've got to get the fuck out of here.
Stuck between the platform and the tracks, I look up into the man's face. Eyes gleaming, he's caught in the throes of arousal.
I'm afraid, so very afraid, and when he leans down, stretching out a hand, I shrink away towards an end that is more preferable. I look the other way and see the stream of white sparks spewing out of an open electric wire dangling on the other side of the tracks. Get out of here. Get out. Now.
"Help!" I scream.
Not one of the rush-hour Bombay commuters hears me. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Look at me. Help me, somebody. I am here. Here. I scream again.
My voice, torn out of me, scatters over the crowd who have eyes only for the incoming train.
No one sees me.
None except him.
He's there, standing on the platform, staring at me.
He's waiting.
Waiting for me to ask him, to beg him to rescue me. I don’t have a choice. I have to ask him for help. Ask him. Do it. DO IT.
I fling out my arm and, bending towards me, he clutches my wrist. It’s him—the same guy who fondled my thigh earlier and threw me off the platform—he claws my other palm off the platform, jerks me up, high, almost at eye level with him. I hang there suspended, swaying.
Heat from the oncoming train rushes at me. It's on me, almost at me. I shriek with terror. My mind’s babbling, thoughts tripping over each other; the blood thunders in my ears. It's over. All over. A trembling grips me. I shut my eyes tight.
"Don't go too far, little girl," Ma's voice taunts. "You don't know what demons are out there."
Then, I'm flying through the dust. He throws me free of the track, out of the path of the train and towards the open electricity wire.
Blessed silence.
I've always been obsessed by the future. Is it because I don't have one?
Chapter 2
I OPEN MY eyes to the sight of a perfectly round object suspended above me. A finger appears in my line of sight. I follow it first to the right, then to the left. A hundred questions run through my head.
"Wait!" I catch my housemate Panky's wrist. "What happened?"
He blinks, "You don't remember?"
There is something inside of my chest, pushing me forward. A violet spark in my heart flickers. It zooms up my spine to the top of my crown, fracturing into flames. I squeeze his hand in a silent cry for help.
"I'll tell you what happened." A doctor strides in, on his face a look of concern, carefully schooled to nonchalance, "How are you feeling?"
"I feel like I was run over by a train …" I snarl. Bad joke.
"Not quite," he replies apparently not noticing my irritability. "You missed the train, but did catch yourself a live wire instead."
He smiles at his own pun. He's the only one.
"Then how am I alive? Tell me," I growl, feeling I have no control over my life anymore.
"I was hoping you could tell me that." His voice is soft, placating.
I glower, but don't reply.
"How many people have ten thousand volts of electricity shot through their body, and then wake up looking like this?" He asks, his tone serious.
My breath catches in my throat and the room tilts slightly around me. "T-Ten thousand?" I gasp.
He nods, "The chance of surviving it is nothing short of a miracle." He says in an excited voice.
“Look, Doc," I plead, uncomfortable at the attention, "I had an accident, I survived. No big deal."
To my relief, he sits down once more in his chair. "So, how did it feel to be struck by such a high dose of electricity?"
I try to recall, but my mind goes blank every time I think about what exactly happened after I was thrown over the side of the platform. Instead, I ask, "How long have I been in hospital?"
"Since yesterday," Panky helpfully supplies.
"Yesterday?" The last thing I can recall is that … that creep, and his hand touching me.
I shudder, my skin crawling with disgust.
"We had to sedate you, to take the edge off the pain," the doc says. He looks down at his clipboard. "You've certainly made a fast recovery."
"Can I go home? I'll feel much better if I sleep in my own bed." I plead and am relieved when he answers, "I suppose that should be okay."
"Can you prescribe some strong painkillers? Adding quickly, "For when the pain comes back."
The doc scribbles out a prescription for me. Reaching to take it, the sleeve of my loose hospital gown falls back, exposing my upper arm.
Panky exclaims, "What is that?" He points to the exposed skin on my arm.
I look down, my mouth going dry. I have never got a tattoo, yet there it is. A darkly colored pattern on my upper arm.
I slide out of bed, and walk to the small mirror in the corner of the room.
A dark red, branching fern-like design winds up my left upper arm. It curls up and over my shoulder. The dark red turns almost black before disappearing below the hospital gown, only to emerge between the gaping folds on my back. Here it breaks into tiny hair-like tendrils, many with forked ends.
"It's cool, Ruby." Panky comes up to stand behind me. "Can I touch it?" Without waiting for my reply, he places a finger against the mark. "Does it hurt?" He asks.
"No." I shake my head.
"It's a Lichtenberg figure, also called a lightning tree,” he adds.
Panky's a walking treasure trove of pointless trivia, and people are always taken aback when he reels off these little known facts.
"Correct," The doc remarks, grudging admiration on his face.
"What is a Lichten—uh! —A lightning tree?" I turn to face them.
"It's a branching electric discharge pattern that occurs on the skin of lightning-strike victims," Panky replies.
"Well, at least lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place … if you're lucky, that is." The doc laughs at his own joke.
"But I wasn't struck by lightning, was I?" My voice comes out a little high.
“No,” the doc agrees, "but everything that happened to you is odd. This seems the least surprising consequence of it all."
"What is this pattern on the lightning tree?" I once again roll the sleeve back to look at the design.
"They are formed when delicate capillaries beneath the skin rupture from the shock of electrical discharge. These usually appear within hours of the incident and disappear within days. They normally tend to occur on the upper body," the doc replies.
The explanations only make it more disturbing.
"So you don't think this is permanent?" I touch the skin.
"Normally not. But in your case, it's difficult to predict, isn't it?" says the doc.
That’s me all right. Unpredictable.
And suddenly I've had enough. Tiredness rushes over me and I just want to get out of here, away from the questioning gaze of the doctor.
Walking towards Panky, I grab his arm, "Can we leave now?" I ask.
He gets to his feet and tries to pull away, but something makes me hang on to him.
"Hey! You're hurting me!" Panky's face loses color.
I loosen my fingers, allowing him to break free.
He takes a step back, cradling his arm, "What's wrong with you?" He asks.
There, imprinted on his arm are deep grooves outlining my five fingers.
I inhale in disbelief.
"You hurt my arm!" His face mirrors my shock.
"I didn't mean to. Honest"
"Seems you don't know your own strength anymore." Panky turns away, his lips curving downwards.
"I'm sorry," I place a hand on his shoulder. "Please, Panky," I whisper, "just get me out of here, okay?"
"As if I have a choice?" Panky asks his voice strained.
Chapter 3
LYING BACK AGAINST the cool tiles in the bathroom, I'm grateful for the wet towel Panky holds against my forehead. I've spent a sleepless night at the bungalow I share with him. My stomach is still unsettled. I'd tried to eat, only to find I'm unable to keep anything down.
"It's understandable, you being sick,” he exclaims, "I would be too, after everything you've been through."
"I owe you," I say, sitting up slowly.
"You do," he agrees. "Promise not to hurt me again."
"I promise." I say, glancing at his hand still cradled in a sling.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, little girl."
Trust Ma to jump in at the most awkward of moments.
I 'd never knowingly hurt him.
Panky pouts. "And get me front row tickets to the Lakmé Fashion Week?"
I hesitate and he raises his eyebrows
"Okay, okay!" I add, "Provided I still have a job."
Looking satisfied, he gets to his feet, "So, are you going to stay there all day feeling sorry for yourself?" he asks.
Not waiting for my reply, he walks back into his bedroom, and switches on the TV.
The newsreader's shrill voice fills the room.
"… And now an exclusive: we have the first lead on the identity of the girl involved in the Bandra train accident. Eyewitnesses say the girl was pushed off the platform and onto the live electric wire."
"Ruby!"
I am already at the doorway of the bathroom, holding on to the frame for support, as she continues. "We are talking to the policeman who rushed her to the hospital."
The camera switches to a cop standing stiffly at attention. “She was fine,” he says.
The reporter's voice probes, "So, she was alive?"
"Yes, yes, alive, of course." He pats his belly.
"Was she hurt?"
"No." He scratches his head this time, looking somewhere off-screen."
"So she was electrocuted by a live wire, and is still alive?"
"Ah! No, actually—"
The reporter jumps in, "Yes, yes, tell me!"
"Ah, yes, I mean, yes, she was still alive, though I think she hurt her arm."
