Beast of Fire -- a Demon Hunting Sexy Romance by Lisa Renée Jones Page A

three hundred years. He would not fail to control it when the life of his mate was on the line. But had he really been in control of his beast? When he’d take this deal to trade himself, he’d already feared it was too late for him, already feared the beast was too dark, too powerful to be controlled. He'd already feared that he’d found his mate only to be her destroyer. He could not be that to her.  
    So, he’d take the path of certainty, never to face her with his own weakness, never to face the beast again. But he had faced it this night, and he had faced the choices he’d made, and they did not sit well. He had been strong for three hundred years, yet he had failed that night he’d made the deal with the Guardians. He’d failed to be strong enough to see other options. He’d run. Run from the possibility that he was like the others who had been devoured by their own beast. Run from being weak – and in the end – running itself had been weak. He’d been weak. Weakness he could not escape, as it had consumed his existence–and he agonized, Kresley’s as well. Had he saved her or doomed her to a life of guilt and self-doubt? Had he been so afraid of failing her that he had ensured exactly what he'd feared–failure. And in doing so had failed himself and the Knights as well.  
    Suddenly, the door opened, and his hand fell away from the wooden surface. Kresley stood there, her hair in disarray, a white silk robe clinging to her soft curves. The shadows of a dimly lit room inviting sultry images of her in bed, of him with her.  
    His gaze snapped to her face, their eyes colliding midair, the sizzle of instant awareness crackling between them.  
    “Hi.” Her soft-spoken word held a hint of shyness.  
    That innocent quality was something that had drawn him to her from the day he'd met her. A quality that her life circumstances would have killed in most – but not her. Not Kresley. “Did I wake you?”  
    She shoved a lock of hair behind her ear and hugged herself. “I wasn’t sleeping. I . ..sensed you were at the door. I do that,” she hesitated. “I sense things now.” Her gift didn’t give him pause, not considering her firestarting and her angelic bloodline. Many of the mates possessed special talents.  
    He thought of the edginess he’d been feeling, the tingling of warning. “You feel it too, then.” It wasn’t a question.  
    Her teeth worried her bottom lip a moment. “Yes,” she said, nodding. “Like someone is watching us.”
    Exactly what he felt. “I’m going to scout around the area.” He hoped to sneak out of the building unnoticed. “You have a fire escape in your room, right?”
    She pulled open the door and motioned to her right. “Yes. I hate that thing. I’ve been sitting here watching the window.”
    Lucan hesitated, steeled himself for the impact of walking into her tiny bedroom, of being so near her. With a discreetly inhaled breath, he entered the room, his gaze sweeping her bed, the covers still neatly in place, a sword lying on top.  
    “The Knights taught me how to use a sword,” she commented.  
    He cut her a sideways look, relieved she had ways beyond her fire of defending herself, yet upset by the way he’d left her to fend for herself.   “You should have told me how nervous you were feeling,” he said, hating that she’d been sitting there staring at the window with a sword in hand.  
    She laughed, an uncomfortable sound. "I figured if worse came to worst, I’d set the place on fire and we’d escape.”  
    Guilt vibrated within him. She could have come to him but hadn't. He’d set her away from him, giving her a feeling of alienation.  
    “I’m sorry, Kresley,” he said, emotion welling in his chest. “I’ve been nothing but a bastard to you since you arrived.” And it wasn’t his nature to yell and demand, but then, he hadn’t been this terrified of failing in three hundred years. Not since he failed to save his family. He started