Ascension by Felicity Heaton Page A

she wanted to try again and this wasn’t just fear controlling her actions and making her seek comfort from him, she had fallen asleep. He had sensed her soft rhythmic breathing and heard the steady beat of her heart in the silence of his apartment.
    Now he was in a foul mood, but that wasn’t a bad thing. He had business to attend to tonight and normally things went quicker when he was pissed off.
    Lealandra stood in the kitchen, doing something to the stove that had seen little action since he had moved in.
    Which was more action than he had seen in six years.
    Taig walked past Lealandra and stared at her, his gaze raking down the length of her shiny black hair to her creamy shoulders and the tight deep purple strapless corset she wore. He diverted course, heading for her rather than the en-suite bathroom in his bedroom. His hands came up as he neared her, ready to claim her waist and pull her against him. He needed to kiss her again. He needed to taste her and be inside her.
    She turned to face him.
    One hand immediately dropped to his side while his other ran through his hair, nonchalantly pushing the black mess out of his face. He smiled his best smile, the one that always got her hot and bothered.
    Her cheeks burned and then she turned away and attacked something with a spatula.
    “What’s for breakfast, honey?” Taig said and, when she didn’t answer, moved around her and leaned against the black counter-top. He folded his arms across his bare chest so his biceps bulged and his pectorals tensed, and peered down at the pan she had on the stove.
    Her gaze darted to his chest and then back to the pan.
    “Eggs,” she mumbled and stabbed at them with the spatula.
    Taig sidestepped, distancing himself in case she started hitting him with it next. Whatever the poor eggs had done to her, it had been bad. Still, at least he wasn’t the only one grouchy this evening. Abstinence made the heart grow darker.
    His was about as black as they came.
    Lealandra moved towards him and he sidestepped again, and then again when she picked up a knife and started dicing the hell out of some perfectly innocent potatoes.
    “Damn it,” she muttered and sucked her left index finger.
    He frowned and caught her wrist, pulling her finger from her mouth. “Let me see.”
    She tried to tug her arm free but he tightened his grip. She huffed and rolled her eyes while he inspected the cut on her fingertip. A tiny bead of blood blossomed to the surface when he squeezed it. The way she had been cutting the potatoes, he wasn’t surprised that she had cut herself too.
    “Go a little easier on them,” Taig whispered and then impulsively pressed a kiss to her cut. Her blood coated his lower lip and he licked it clean. His power surged and his eyes popped wide. Claws shredded his fingertips, dark brown scaly points breaking through the skin. He quickly backed away from Lealandra and rubbed his mouth, trying to get her blood out. His hands shook as he struggled to control his demon side. He didn’t want Lealandra to see it. He spat in the stainless steel sink and then grabbed a glass from the rack on the drainer.
    The skin on his fingers tore apart when he turned on the tap and filled the glass. He took a great gulp of the water and choked, coughing it back up into the sink. The glass in his hand smashed, cutting his palm to ribbons, and blood dripped down into the sink, mixing with the water and turning the pieces of glass into islands on a swirling red sea.
    “Calm down.” Lealandra’s tone was soft and soothing, a melody he wanted to listen to above all else, but he couldn’t focus on her, couldn’t stop the hunger to change and shed his human mask. Her hand came to rest against his bare back, sliding over his skin in a way that stirred his blood. He felt her power seep into him, straining to reach his, and he let go a fraction, enough that they would meet. He needed the connection, needed to feel that she was here with him and that this