swept off my feet, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” I teased.
“What are you saying? That sparring and romance don’t mix?” Trent helped me up. “Because I think it does. All this sweaty one-on-one action and breathing hard—”
“Stop with the sexual innuendos!” Rolling my eyes, I pirouetted away from him and crouched into a fighting stance. “Can you show me that kick—”
He moved blurry fast and gripped my upper arms. Instead of showing me more of his fighting moves, he kissed me crazy hard. My knees buckled. Passion ignited between us as the kiss intensified. His fingers cradled my head, knotting in my hair. He kissed me long and deep, his hands slid to my waist, anchoring me against him. It was nice being in his arms, as if he was a barricade between me and everything bad that had happened since my dad had died. That’s what I liked best about his insanely passionate kisses. In his arms, with his lips fastened to mine, his presence eclipsed the hurt, eased the heartache. Finally, we parted, but continued clinging to each other.
“I can’t seem to keep my hands off you,” he said in a husky voice.
Still experiencing warm tingles, I stared up at him. “Uh, wow.” I dragged a hand over my lips. “Stop distracting me, I need to train” —I gestured at the gym equipment— “before the big lycan brawl. I don’t want another death on my hands because I wasn’t prepared…you know, like the last time.”
Trent moved away from me and stared at the floor, his expression unreadable. “Oh, you mean like what happened to Madison…or your dad?”
Among others who’d been hurt or killed since meeting me. The list kept getting longer.
“Well, yeah.” Biting my lip, I asked a question I’d been curious about for some time. “Did you ever talk to your dad about that stuff between our parents? Because everyone heard my aunt blabbering about their hot love affair at your party.”
The entire room seemed to chill with a wintry blast. Talk about a mood killer. My questions filled the air with tension and unease. I mentally cringed. Insert foot into mouth. Obviously, our parents’ adultery was a hot button.
Trent raised his head. His expressive face, which usually only displayed passion and fire, revealed nothing. His blank stare was like a switch inside him had been flicked off at the mention of that awful night, when my aunt Darrah and his father’s love child had fallen down the stairs at Craven Manor and broken her neck.
Trent’s body stiffened. “Yeah. But it didn’t go well. He refused to even discuss it.”
He had a tense, complex relationship with his family. After his mother died, his dad had dumped him in boarding school. I didn’t even think they spent vacations together. His dad was a selfish jerk. At least he had his uncle, like I had my mom.
“I know, the whole thing’s a complicated mess.” I sighed. “My sucky life resembles some drama-induced V. C. Andrews’s novel now.”
His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I really don’t want to talk about it… or my father, okay?” Trent’s pupils dilated. The whites vanished and his gaze became completely black. He stood rigid, staring into space with that emotionless, obsidian gaze. It wasn’t natural—wasn’t normal .
I stared, frozen. My heartbeat acted like a mosh pit. All crazy and out of control.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked, my voice wobbly.
Trent seemed lost to something dark. Horrible. His barely visible aura burned in hues of night and vermilion, so far removed from humanity it wasn’t even related anymore. Trent must’ve been infected with demonic blood like me. There was no other explanation. Esael had somehow poisoned him, too.
“Trent?” Like a magnet pulling it out of me, I sensed the Darkness living within me uncoiling. Somehow in direct response to Trent’s black gaze. “Hey, are you all right?” No answer. I moved forward and shook his arm, but it felt like
“What are you saying? That sparring and romance don’t mix?” Trent helped me up. “Because I think it does. All this sweaty one-on-one action and breathing hard—”
“Stop with the sexual innuendos!” Rolling my eyes, I pirouetted away from him and crouched into a fighting stance. “Can you show me that kick—”
He moved blurry fast and gripped my upper arms. Instead of showing me more of his fighting moves, he kissed me crazy hard. My knees buckled. Passion ignited between us as the kiss intensified. His fingers cradled my head, knotting in my hair. He kissed me long and deep, his hands slid to my waist, anchoring me against him. It was nice being in his arms, as if he was a barricade between me and everything bad that had happened since my dad had died. That’s what I liked best about his insanely passionate kisses. In his arms, with his lips fastened to mine, his presence eclipsed the hurt, eased the heartache. Finally, we parted, but continued clinging to each other.
“I can’t seem to keep my hands off you,” he said in a husky voice.
Still experiencing warm tingles, I stared up at him. “Uh, wow.” I dragged a hand over my lips. “Stop distracting me, I need to train” —I gestured at the gym equipment— “before the big lycan brawl. I don’t want another death on my hands because I wasn’t prepared…you know, like the last time.”
Trent moved away from me and stared at the floor, his expression unreadable. “Oh, you mean like what happened to Madison…or your dad?”
Among others who’d been hurt or killed since meeting me. The list kept getting longer.
“Well, yeah.” Biting my lip, I asked a question I’d been curious about for some time. “Did you ever talk to your dad about that stuff between our parents? Because everyone heard my aunt blabbering about their hot love affair at your party.”
The entire room seemed to chill with a wintry blast. Talk about a mood killer. My questions filled the air with tension and unease. I mentally cringed. Insert foot into mouth. Obviously, our parents’ adultery was a hot button.
Trent raised his head. His expressive face, which usually only displayed passion and fire, revealed nothing. His blank stare was like a switch inside him had been flicked off at the mention of that awful night, when my aunt Darrah and his father’s love child had fallen down the stairs at Craven Manor and broken her neck.
Trent’s body stiffened. “Yeah. But it didn’t go well. He refused to even discuss it.”
He had a tense, complex relationship with his family. After his mother died, his dad had dumped him in boarding school. I didn’t even think they spent vacations together. His dad was a selfish jerk. At least he had his uncle, like I had my mom.
“I know, the whole thing’s a complicated mess.” I sighed. “My sucky life resembles some drama-induced V. C. Andrews’s novel now.”
His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I really don’t want to talk about it… or my father, okay?” Trent’s pupils dilated. The whites vanished and his gaze became completely black. He stood rigid, staring into space with that emotionless, obsidian gaze. It wasn’t natural—wasn’t normal .
I stared, frozen. My heartbeat acted like a mosh pit. All crazy and out of control.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked, my voice wobbly.
Trent seemed lost to something dark. Horrible. His barely visible aura burned in hues of night and vermilion, so far removed from humanity it wasn’t even related anymore. Trent must’ve been infected with demonic blood like me. There was no other explanation. Esael had somehow poisoned him, too.
“Trent?” Like a magnet pulling it out of me, I sensed the Darkness living within me uncoiling. Somehow in direct response to Trent’s black gaze. “Hey, are you all right?” No answer. I moved forward and shook his arm, but it felt like
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