His Darkest Salvation by Juliana Stone Page A

meeting is here. I’ll be fine.”
    She flipped off the com, effectively cutting off the torrent of curses that fell from Nico’s mouth and turned toward Julian.
    She kept her eyes averted, placed the ice against her skin, then walked toward her bedroom.
    “Don’t leave this suite, Castille. When I’m done, we’ll talk, and for Christ sakes can you let please let Tank out.”
    She disappeared from sight, and the air rushed from his lungs. He’d not realized he’d been holding his breath until the wave of dizziness followed.
    Julian hated the tightness that pulled at his gut. Hated the way things were no longer cut-and-dried but blurred and fucking crazy. When he’d been in hell, there had been some sort of order to things.
    It had been real simple. The bitch in the corner, her knife, pain, then more pain. That was it.
    Julian much preferred the darkness and pain. At least he knew where he stood. But none of this made sense to him. Funny how feelings muddied the water, made things so much more complicated. It was probably good that half his soul was missing; it made it easier to push back when his emotions started making noise.
    Like now.
    Jaden was a DaCosta, the enemy. She was also, apparently, his mate. She was strong, a jaguar warrior, yet she let her father beat her, made no effort to protect herself.
    He began to pace the length of the room, his nostrils flaring in disgust as Jakobi’s scent wafted over him. It was tinged with violence, and he could still smell Jaden’s blood as well.
    It only served to agitate him even more.
    He crossed to the closet that was located near the kitchen and yanked the door open, ignoring the strangled growl that gurgled in the back of Tank’s mouth. The jaguar warrior was furious.
    He quickly untied his feet, stood back to allow him room to leave, then followed the large guard back to the elevator.
    He refused to untie Tank’s hands, however, and pointed to the lift with a smile. “Jaden says you need to be a good kitty cat and go back to your post.” He winked. “But this time don’t fuck up.”
    Tank stared back at him, his eyes fierce and filled with anger.
    “Go back to your post, Tank, I’ll talk to you later.” Jaden’s voice drifted back toward them from down the hall, and the warrior threw Julian another nasty glance before disappearing from sight.
    He heard the shower start and decided he needed to do something rather than think of her naked and wet. She might be a DaCosta, but that didn’t negate the fact that she was achingly beautiful.
    His eyes fell upon the broken pottery that was now scattered across the floor. He quickly crossed to the kitchen, searching through her cupboards until he found a large container. Carefully, he retrieved the pieces, noticing the intricate carvings and exotic markings that adorned them. They were Aztec, he recognized that much, and very old from the looks of it.
    Once he’d placed all the pieces into the container, he swept up the remnants of the ones that were not usable and tossed them into the garbage.
    He yanked her fridge open and snorted. It was nearly as pathetic as his had been: a half loaf of bread, some eggs, and a carton of milk. He grabbed the milk and gulped the cold liquid heartily, washing away the whiskey as he did so.
    He finished it and tossed the empty container into the garbage before striding over to the balcony once more. He slid the door back and stepped into the lush, tropical air.
    Instantly, he felt his animal relax as the cooling breeze off the water ruffled his hair. Night was falling fast, and her far-reaching fingers would blanket the area within the hour.
    He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting his nostrils grab the myriad of scents that drifted up toward him. He smelled the underbelly of the jungle, the rich earth and tangled foliage. The salt that lay beneath the water, the sand that met it on the shore . . . the smell of sex from the couple below.
    All of it rushed at him,