When Darkness Calls

Unedited Excerpt

The dream came to her again. This time more vivid and powerful than ever.

Catarina’s heart stopped at the sight. Raped by fire, a thousand deadwoods, brittle and bare towered around her, each mighty tree singed from its roots to the tips of deformed desiccate branches stretched far above her head. The scent of smoldering wood filled her nostrils. Soft gray ash warmed her naked feet and the hem of her thin, white nightgown hovered above piles of fine dust. He was here in this place of all consuming death. She sensed him. But where?

His power whispered to her in the low, seductive caress. One that commanded the fine hairs on the back of her neck to rise, the center of her palms to moisten, and the pits of her belly to knot. Fear or Desire. Catarina wasn’t sure which emotion would win the battle tonight, but regardless his whisper would draw her to him. It always did.  

Through the colorless array of natures annihilation, Catarina hiked her gown a few inches and started toward the clearing, each step cautious and slow. When she reached the edge of the Valley of the Dead, she froze.

Mile high, black waves roared and rushed toward where he stood on the jagged cliff that overlooked the dark sea. He stared out beyond the water, unfazed, he held no regard for the massive upsurge that threatened to swallow him whole. He feared nothing.

Even from twenty-feet his power coursed through her veins, the sight of him captivated her. She stepped closer. Her fingertips inadvertently brushed against one withered trunk and her breath caught in her throat. The tree burst into dust and ash rained from the sky.

 “Stop.” At the sound of his voice Catarina looked back and saw him flash up his palm toward the sea.Time suspended, along with all movement from the angry sea and descending ash. He slowly turned, his eyes pinned her, vibrant,blue, surreal—the only element of color ever found in this world of darkness—his world.

His long, dark mane acted as canvass, draped against broad shoulders, framed his strong, determined jaw and flawless features. His gaze roamed from the hem of her gown, lingered on her scantily clad bosom a moment, returned and rested on her heated face. Although she wasn’t frozen in time as all other things at his command, Catarina didn’t move. His stare smoldered, held her immobile. He started towards her, his strides long, slow, and confident—a predator’s gait.

On his approach, ardent hunger burned evident across his face. A muscle worked in his jaw. He towered over her, peered down then slowly grazed his knuckles against her cheek. “You have returned to me,” he murmured. “My pure, untainted power.”

And the battle inside her began.

War raged in her mind, commonsense pleaded that she break free from his embrace. As he touched her, darkness poured through the tips of his fingers, under her skin, bled through her veins. It crept down her throat, spread though her chest. Fear ignited as the light in her dimmed.

“Please stop,” she begged.

Run, damn you! Run!

With every ounce of willpower she possessed, Catarina wrenched her head, tore herself from him, and launched back among the deadwoods. Frantic, she searched for somewhere to hide but it all looked the same. Everywhere she turned, the same trees loomed above her, the same death spilled across the landscape. It was hopeless. Her legs burned but she continued to run. Her breath choked her but she refused to slow. One misplaced step and she staggered, a pile of twisted limps, face first, Catarina slammed into the ground.

Ash explode into the air, and within that gray haze he appeared again. Before she could escape two vice-like hands gripped her bare arms and hauled her up and shook her.“You think you can run from me? From your destiny?”

Her breathing labored, she didn’t answer, but stared into the searing depths of his eyes. His mouth twitched and he shook his head. “You should know better by now.” He leaned, skimmed his lips against the line of her heart-shaped jaw, brushed her ear, and she shivered. He slid his hands down her arms, his thumbs brushed against the sidewalls of her breasts. “Don’t fear me,” he whispered, his voice a spell so potent her mind reeled from the power. “I need you.”

On those words, all was lost.

His hard body pressed against hers and he captured her mouth. Strong, demanding, he parted her lips. His tongue plunged, explored, seduced. Tingles shot up her spine as he drank of her lips—her light, her goodness, her soul, extinguished. And in his arms, his heavenly embrace, she surrendered.