Hers and Thanatos’s.

Could she do it?

Her stomach growled, tearing her away from thoughts that were probably dangerous to be having anyway. There would be no future for anyone if the most pressing matter, stopping the Apocalypse, didn’t take precedence.

She settled the plate on her lap and turned on the TV … and immediately wished she hadn’t. Breaking News. A Pakistani military unit had discovered hundreds of dead bodies—all impaled on giant stakes. The images weren’t graphic, but even the grainy, fuzzed-out pics showed Regan all she needed to know.

The scene looked exactly like the memory she’d read in Than’s tattoo.

Something flashed on the screen, something that froze her heart mid-beat. Hand shaking, she rewound the feed to rows of stakes and broken bodies on the ground. But what drew her attention was the shadow to the right of the picture, a shadow in the shape of a man on a horse.

“Thanatos.” Limos’s gasp came from over Regan’s shoulder.

“He wouldn’t—” Regan cleared her throat of the hoarseness. “He didn’t—”

“Of course he didn’t,” Limos said, but there was a tremor of doubt in her voice.

The giant wooden door burst inward, and Thanatos stormed inside, his armor dripping with blood and gore, his eyes burning an unholy gold flecked with crimson.

“Shit.” Limos yanked Regan out of her chair and tucked her behind Limos’s back. “We have to get you out of here.”

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Too late for that. Thanatos let out a furious snarl and stalked toward them, sword drawn, expression a mask of murder.

It was the same expression she’d seen on his face before he slaughtered his best friend.

From out of nowhere, Arik charged, slamming into the Horseman and knocking him off balance. “Go!” he shouted to Limos, and then he was airborne, knocked off his feet by Thanatos’s meaty fist.

“Run, Regan,” Limos barked. “Outside. I’ll gate you out of here.” Thanatos lunged, and their swords met in a deafening clang of metal on metal.

“No,” Regan yelled. “Stop!”

No one heard. Thanatos and his sister were a whirlwind of blades and armor. His strength was countered by her speed, and with each blow, both Horsemen grew more savage, their strikes aimed for necks, heads, eyes.

There could be no winner here… only pain.

Limos danced gracefully out of the sweep of Than’s blade. As his sword plunged downward, she thrust the tip of her blade beneath one of the plates that protected his side. He yelped in pain, blood rushing down his flank in a gruesome stream.

“Stop it!” Regan screamed.

Thanatos rounded on her, eyes blazing, and she suddenly regretted not following Limos’s advice. He moved toward her slowly, his gaze holding her rooted to the floor. Her hand crept behind her back, to the Aegis dagger he’d returned to her. He didn’t miss the action, and his lips lifted in a nasty snarl.

Even as she freed the blade, he was on her, his big body pressing her into the wall. A lifetime of training came back to her in an instant, and she brought the dagger up, leveling the tip just under his jaw.

“It’s coated in hellhound saliva, Horseman. One nick, and you’re a statue.”

A low, pulsating purr rose up in his chest. His hands, which had been gripping her shoulders, shifted, one up to cup the back of her head, while the other took a slow slide over her clavicle and lower, where it stopped between her br**sts.

“Do it, Regan.” His voice was a tortured rasp. “Please, cut me.”

“Why?” He’d been immobilized for over eight months. For him to ask for more of it, for him to make that kind of sacrifice … it left her reeling.

“I told you that you woke a sleeping demon, Aegi. My sex demon half is…raging.”

She swallowed dryly. “You don’t want to kill me?”

He dipped his head, nearly driving the blade into his jugular, and closed his mouth over her throat. The softness of his lips was a stark contrast to the stinging scrape of his teeth followed by the soothing laps of his tongue. Her entire body went loose and rubbery. And hot. Very, very hot.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noted his hand leaving her chest, and then his armor was gone and he was pressed against her, bare-chested with his erection pressing into her belly through the fly of his pants.

“Does that feel like I want to kill you?” he whispered against her throat. And then he went stiff, his lips peeling back from his teeth. “Don’t do it, Limos.”

From over Than’s shoulder, Regan caught a glimpse of Limos easing up behind him, her sword poised to strike.

“Limos—” Regan tried to warn her off, but it was too late. Thanatos shoved his own blade in a reverse thrust, catching Limos in the neck.

Limos stumbled back, clutching her throat. Cursing Than to hell, Arik caught her.

“Get out.” Than’s voice was a lethal rumble, but he was kissing Regan’s throat as he spoke, and his hands were roving over her body with the kind of care one would use while handling a newborn kitten.

Regan caught Limos’s pained gaze. Go. I’ll be fine.

The female Horseman inclined her head in a nod, and then she allowed Arik to help her out of there. Limos would be fine, Regan knew, but she’d be sore for a while.

Thanatos nipped her earlobe and flicked his tongue over the tiny bite before sucking it between his lips. Lower, his hand cupped her breast as his thumb swiped across her nipple, and even through the fabric of her blouse and bra, the pleasure was luxurious.

“Cut me.” One hand came up to wrap around hers where she still held the dagger to his throat. “Last chance.”

She opened her palm, and the blade clattered to the floor.

Twenty-one

“Fuck.”

Thanatos’s harsh curse should probably have frightened Regan, but her body was on fire, and the only thing he’d done was throw gasoline on those flames.

He swept her into his arms and strode down the hall, his mouth on hers, his teeth nipping at her lips. He kicked the bedroom door closed and in three strides, was at the edge of the bed. Despite the barely leashed power radiating from his body, he placed her so gently on the mattress that she could have been made of the most delicate crystal.

By the time she’d pushed herself up on one elbow, he’d ripped—literally—his pants off. The wound on his thigh had already knitted closed and was now hidden behind a gorgeous medieval lion tattoo. It didn’t matter how many times she’d seen him na**d … each time she couldn’t help but stare. His body was a work of masculine art.

Slabs of sleek, toned muscle rippled under a tapestry of tattoos on deeply tanned skin. From his neck to his toes, he was a living, breathing tablet of history, emotion, and sex.

Silence stretched in the half-dozen feet of space separating them as he stood, chest heaving, his hands fisted at his sides, his head bowed. Still, he watched her through slitted eyes that smoldered.

“I need to see you.” His voice was harsh, as smoky as his gaze.

A serious case of nerves made her stomach churn. “I’ll put on my nightgown,” she said, as she fumbled around on the covers for it.

Thanatos took a single, heavy step closer. “I have missed eight months of seeing my son grow inside you. Don’t deprive me of another day.”

A wild series of glorious shivers skittered over her skin. God, what a wonderful husband and father he’d have made if fate hadn’t cursed him the way it had. He would have been there for every second of her pregnancy if she’d asked him to be—and probably even if she hadn’t. Most women would kill to have that kind of interest and devotion.

Most women. Regan had never considered the idea that she’d have a relationship or a family outside of The Aegis. So maybe it was her hormones messing with her brain, or maybe it was her biological clock ticking, or maybe it was the fact that so many of her Aegis family members had died recently, but she was suddenly wondering what being in a relationship would be like.

Being in a relationship with Thanatos.

You’re crazy. Certifiable with a capital C.

“Regan.”

She looked up. Thanatos had moved closer, and dear God, he’d taken his arousal in his hand and was stroking himself. Every pass of his hand revealed glimpses of dusky flesh against a background of fluid black lines that defined his tattoos.

The effect on her was insanely powerful, and with shaking hands, she peeled out of her stretchy maternity pants and her tent-like top. Were they really going to do this? One look in his eyes told her that yes, they were. They so were.

Though her hands shook, she wriggled out of her bra and underwear.

“Beautiful,” he rasped, and man, she melted. “Come here.”

She obeyed, compelled by the erotic authority in his tone. All her life she’d needed to be in control, taking orders only from her superiors. But something about Thanatos made her want to comply, to for once be okay with giving over control to someone who wouldn’t hurt her. At least, not physically. Emotionally… that was another story.

“What now?” she asked when she was standing directly in front of him.

In answer, he took her hand and placed it on his shaft. His breath hissed through his teeth and his gaze simmered with heat. Her body responded with a jolt of need that electrified every nerve ending. If he so much as touched her now, just the lightest brush of one finger, she’d come.

Squeezing her fist, she slid her thumb up over the satiny head of him, and as he groaned her sensitivity heightened even more, until she was sure that she wouldn’t even need a touch … just the whisper of his breath across her skin would set her off.

“Bed,” he said. “Now.”

Regan’s chest went tight, so tight that every heartbeat hurt. Silly, maybe, since she’d known what he wanted when he carried her into the bedroom, but at the sudden, undeniable reality, she froze in a sticky mire of guilt. She’d caused Thanatos so much pain, and it had all started on that mattress.

In a raspy whisper, she blurted, “I … can’t.” Overwhelmed by shame, she dashed to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.




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