Home > Dark Surrender (The Dark Ones Saga #3)(6)

Dark Surrender (The Dark Ones Saga #3)(6)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

His smile widened just as the door opened. Cassius poked his head in. “You’ve made your choice.”

“It seems, it was made for me before I even had the chance to say anything.”

“Funny how that happens.”

“Hilarious.” Alex sounded more irritated than amused.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Cassius closed the door and that damn lock sounded again, only this time it was several clicks followed by a thud and then a sucking noise, like we were in an air tight container and only had twenty-four hours worth of oxygen.

I gulped.

It? What was it? Why wasn’t I getting to leave? I wasn’t one of the human virgin sacrifices! Even if I was a virgin. I was… a botanist! Okay, a horrible botanist since I’ve killed more plants than I’ve kept alive, but not the point.

Alex lifted his hand into the air. The large metal locks slid across the door and clicked into place.

Again.

So basically at this point, I was in my own tomb.

Locked from the inside.

Lovely.

With one sweeping movement, he pulled the hood over his head and tossed the cape to the floor revealing a rock-hard eight-pack that could cut ice and long tresses of hair of so many colors I couldn’t focus on just one.

His eyes illuminated blue and then turned purple.

His beauty hit me full force, sending me to my hands and knees even though I don’t remember telling my body to fall in front of him.

“And now?” He teased. “Now what do you think?”

“I think…” My voice shook. “That I’m in trouble.”

“You would be right…”

Alex

TO SAY I was pissed.

To say I was angry

To say I was intrigued.

I couldn’t decide which emotion was going to win out, which made her all the more exciting. Sirens, for the most part, kept their physical appearance at a five. On a scale of one to ten, a five meant that you were clearly above average but not to the point that a person would literally sell a kidney and spleen in order to sleep with you.

No, the selling of body parts came at six.

Seven meant they were willing to commit a crime and sell body parts.

Eight was when they neared the wailing stage. I typically called it bartering, where they asked what they could possibly do in order to gain just one taste, anything, anything at all!

Nine was a rarity. I was a nine when I was tired, when I wanted a piece of ass from someone hot, and I didn’t want to make a big fuss over it. But a nine was dangerous because showing myself at a nine made it easier to wipe the individuals’ memories. Meaning I was more than likely cursing them to a life where they would never settle down because they’d be stuck comparing me to some sad human male with a beer gut, and he’d always fall short.

Even the Toms fell short.

Tom Brady.

Tom Hardy.

You get the picture.

In my entire existence, I’ve pulled a nine maybe four times. And each time I felt regretful — after all the sex had never been worthy of ruining some pathetic human’s chance at love.

And tens?

Tens weren’t done. To become a ten in front of a human would be the equivalent of a human discovering the sweetest tasting sin, the most physical and emotional ecstasy known over and over again. Add that in with good looks that made women, men, plants, atoms — you get the picture — full-on weep, and it just wasn’t done.

Never.

In fact, some might say it was forbidden.

I’d never been tempted.

Until five minutes ago.

I was currently at an eight, flirting with a ten, and she’d finally succumbed enough to fall to her knees, but when she glanced up, she blinked a few times then stood. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”

The hell?

I did a double take, my eyes narrowing as she shuddered before me, but still, nothing. No weeping. No sudden burst of adoration.

Nine, here I come.

I exhaled as I allowed my hair to go pure gold and my eyes to turn a shade of amber that looked like a never-ending ring of fire around my blue iris. I released waves of energy that I could see pulsing from my body with each exhale, and I was aware that she was being assaulted with my scent, a mixture of rain, fresh air, and finally a deep sweet chocolate.

The most addicting scents known to mankind.

The most cleansing scents to a human.

Her eyes widened as she gulped and then squeezed them shut and covered her face with her hands, her knees knocked together as she swayed.

“Open your eyes, human!”

“I-I’d rather not,” she said in a weak voice.

“Now!” The walls of the room shook causing a shriek to explode between her lips, and suddenly she was moving towards me and launching her plump body into the air.

Directly onto mine.

Mine.

My body.

Without any other option, I braced myself for her impact. Not that she could physically harm me, it was more of a mental brace of, oh shit the woman might be plump, but she moved with the speed of a torpedo.

I caught her in my arms.

The shaking stopped.

Her hands clung to the front of my shirt, her breathing was unsteady, her body sweaty, hot, and curvy.

I appreciated all types of beauty.

Even hers.

I would have preferred a small mate, one that I could terrify into submission — one I had no risk of falling in love with.

Because a siren in love — was a dangerous thing.

And a part of me wondered if that was what Cassius had planned all along. In order for me to be at my strongest, I needed to be in love.

   
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