Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes. Gena Showalter
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even deeper....deeper still. Her lungs shrieked for air. She desperately needed to breathe. Now. Now!
Can’t...
Terror devoured her.
I’m going to die, she realized. My life will be over before I ever truly lived.
A thousand regrets surfaced, along with all the lies she’d told herself. She didn’t like herself. She wasn’t happy. She should have forgiven those who’d wronged her. Clinging to hurt instead of embracing love seemed so silly now. Like wasted time. Every moment counted, and hurt only ever, well, hurt. Love healed, always. She should have written a book instead of simply talking about it. Her characters could have had the happy ending she’d secretly craved for herself.
She should have gotten a second tattoo. A rose in full bloom, or a cross, or a butterfly. Basically the opposite of the skull and crossbones she had on her lower back—an image she’d gotten to make her parents notice her.
Her mom had definitely noticed and still mailed her articles about new methods of tattoo-removal every few weeks.
Her mind suddenly blanked, becoming as dark as the water, wiping her thoughts clean.
Have to breathe, she mentally shouted.
Between one heartbeat and the next, the murky water cleared, so glassy she could see as perfectly as if she were on land. Even the salt dissipated, soothing her irritated eyes.
Valerian tugged her forward so that they were eye to eye. She tried to push away from him—her tormentor—but he held tight.
Breathe, she mouthed. Please.
With a hand on her nape, he drew her close and pressed his mouth to hers; he used his tongue to open her lips...and then he exhaled, gifting her with the last breath he’d taken.
The burn inside her cooled, the vise-grip easing from her throat and lungs.
Lifting his head, he motioned with a tilt of his chin, and she squelched her panic long enough to turn and look. Her eyes widened when she spotted the swirling, gelatinous whirlpool that loomed ahead.
What was that? And why was Valerian swimming straight for it?
She fought to paddle in the opposition direction, but an undeniable suction pulled her closer...until she shot through the whirlpool and into dark nothingness.
She began to spin, faster and faster, left and right, tumbling toward the unknown. Nausea churned in her stomach, and needles jabbed at her pores, the pain nearly too much to bear.
She didn’t understand what was happening; she only knew the water had disappeared, leaving the spiraling black abyss that seemed to stretch for eternity.
Zipping lights whizzed past her, firefly flickers extinguished all too soon. A bevy of screams assaulted her ears, and a sharp ache began to hammer at her temples. Her blood flash-froze in her veins even as sweat beaded over her skin.
As a little girl, her favorite fairy tale had been Alice in Wonderland. Alice had fallen down a rabbit hole, and Shaye had envied her. A whole new world! Adventure!
Suddenly she pitied Alice.
Brighter streams of light appeared. Gusts of wind erupted, blustering around her.
Where was Valerian? She shouted his name.
Dizziness invaded her mind as she continued to twirl, twirl, twirl, alone, frightened...finally crash-landing inside a new world, just like Alice.
“I’VE GOT YOU, MOON.”
Strong arms lifted Shaye, and she gratefully buried her face in the hollow of Valerian’s neck. In that moment, she no longer cared what the warrior was doing to her; she was just happy he was with her. She even wound her legs around his hips to prevent any kind of separation.
I’m safe?
“Don’t you dare let me go,” she cried.
His hold tightened. “I will never let you go.”
The vehement tone should have frightened her, but oddly enough she felt comforted instead.
Maybe because he clung to her as if she were a treasure. As if she were someone special. As if he’d waited his whole life to meet her and now couldn’t imagine living without her.
A deception, she knew. But that was okay. For now, that was okay.
“Take a moment to breathe.” He petted his fingers down her spine. “Breathe for me. I don’t feel your chest moving.”
Right. In, out. Air filled and exited her lungs. In, out. Surprisingly, she did calm. The scent of salt and Valerian’s particular brand of black magic teased her nostrils. His heart beat against hers. His hard strength welcomed her soft femininity.
Valerian set her on her feet and framed her jaw with his big, callused hands. “You are pale,” he said, a hint of concern in his voice.
“I’m always pale,” she muttered.
She forced her gaze to abandon the stunning beauty of his chiseled features in favor of studying her new surroundings.
They’d somehow entered a cave. The walls were rough and rocky, silver stones painted with streaks of crimson. Blood?
She swallowed the barbed lump growing in her throat. A metallic tang layered the cold, cold air, and that cold, cold air continued to stroke her nearly bare body, chasing away Valerian’s delicious warmth, making her shiver.
A shuffle of footsteps sounded behind her.
Gasping, she looked over her shoulder. Tendrils of mist curled toward a domed ceiling as, one by one, warriors walked from a clear, jellylike whirlpool identical to the one she’d seen under water. The women still followed, but they were no longer smiling.
“Where are we?” she asked Valerian.
A pause. “Look at me, Moon. Please.”
The nickname made no sense to her, and yet it somehow delighted her—the only reason she obeyed him.
The rest of the world vanished as her gaze traveled from his booted feet to his muscled legs, skipping over the ridge between his legs to stop on his chest—where rope after rope of bronzed masculinity awaited. Droplets of water trickled over perfect male nipples—even through the silver piercing—and pooled in his navel.
How could one person be so...delicious?
He had perfect sandy brows, perfect crystalline eyes framed with spiky black lashes and a perfect nose. His lips were plump and pink—and perfect.
Confidence clung to him like a second skin, making him the most sensually erotic creature she’d ever seen. Even better—or worse!—he radiated primal ferocity.
“We are home.” Gently, so gently, he traced his fingertips over her face to wipe away the water.
She stood completely still, not encouraging him but not rebuking him, either. His touch reverberated through her like a live wire, hot and scorching.
“This isn’t my home,” she said. “I live in Cincinnati.”
“You used to live in Cincinnati. Now you live with me in Atlantis, the capital of the gods’ finest creations. Home to nymphs, vampires, Amazons and many other races.”
Wait. Wait, wait, wait. She blinked rapidly as her mind attempted to make sense of his words. Atlantis...the city buried under the ocean? Like the ocean she’d just exited? Her mouth went dry. No way. Just no way.
“Home of nymphos and vampires? You’re lying,” she grated. “Why are you lying?”
He frowned at her. “I told you. I’ll never lie to you. And I’m a nymph. Nymph.”
“Well,