Raven-black hair set off deep golden skin, and the tight cut of his clothing revealed a broad muscular chest and equally muscular arms. He smelled like leather and crisp mountain nights with the barest hint of charred cedar.
The more I studied him, the more I realized that every inch of this male seemed designed to draw me in, which triggered all my internal alarm bells. He wasdefinitelynot mortal.
My hunter senses surged out, tasting the magic that seemed to ooze from his pores. It danced over my lips, all darkness and shadows, and made my skin prickle uncomfortably.
There was somuchof it, and yet I got the feeling he kept the better part of it tethered — contained to conceal just how powerful he was.
“Where is the other one?” he asked.
I was so wrapped up in trying to place the male’s unique magical signature that I didn’t immediately realize what he was asking. When I didn’t answer, he said, “I sensed three of them in the area, so the third must be around here somewhere.”
The other demon.
“I killed him,” I said in a hollow voice.
“You did.” It wasn’t exactly a question. He sounded . . . satisfied.
When I looked up, I found him staring at my witchwood dagger, which was still lying on the ground where I’d dropped it.
Before I could move, he let out a low whistle and reached down to grab it. I tensed as his fingers closed around the flat of the blade, cursing myself for being stupid enough to drop it in the first place.
He flipped the dagger in his palm, catching it smoothly by the handle. “A witchwood blade,” he mused, lifting one dark eyebrow as he examined the runes engraved along the hilt. “I haven’t seen one of these in centuries.”
He said it casually, but my insides clanged at the admission that he was hundreds of years old. I tensed, waiting for him to pocket the dagger — or plunge it into my chest — but he just gave a soft “hmm” and slid it smoothly into thesheath at my thigh. I felt the light touch through my leathers, and my skin tingled where his fingers made contact.
My gaze flicked to his leather-clad thighs and moved up to his broad chest. I couldn’t see a single weapon on him, which unnerved me even more. Judging by the kiss of his power and the way those demons had fled, he didn’t need them. He was enough of a weapon himself.
“What are you?” I blurted, too unsettled by his strange power to care how the question came out.
“Now that’s not very polite.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, but there was something about his tone that set me on edge. He brushed back a swath of choppy black hair, revealing the pointed tips of his ears.
My blood went cold.
Fae — and not just any fae, judging by the scent of night that wrapped around him. Dark fae.
“How about we start with introductions?” he continued in that velvety smooth voice of his. “I’m Kaden. And you are . . .”
My chest tightened, and my breathing became more shallow as I tried to remember everything I’d ever learned about the fae. There was power in a name, I knew. There was nowayI was giving him mine.
He waited patiently for my answer. When I didn’t give one, those silvery-gray eyes twinkled with mirth. “Shy?”
“No,” I choked. “Just not stupid.”
“Clearly, if you managed to dispatch a higher demon.” His eyes roved over my face before drifting down to take in the rest of me. “Clever little huntress.” Then he caught sight of my blistered hands, and a crease appeared between his brows. “You’re hurt.”
My entire being shuddered at the prospect of showing weakness to an enemy, and I opened my mouth to deny it. But before I could, Kaden reached out one long tanned hand.
“Getawayfrom me,” I growled, ignoring the throbbing pain in my hands as I tried to skitter away.
Those eyes surged with a tumultuous darkness, but then his expression softened. He reached for me again. I tried to move back, but that strange magic wrapped around me. I threw all my strength into my legs, willing myself to stand, but my body didn’t respond.
Panic thrummed in my chest as he held me immobile. I couldn’t move an inch. I was magically frozen in place. And when Kaden’s long fingers closed around my wrist, my nerves seemed to jolt with the impulse to escape my useless body.
Kaden’s touch was surprisedly gentle as he took my burned hand in his own. I felt the light scrape of callouses against my skin, and the pain in my hand ebbed away, leaving only a pleasant warmth.
He turned my hand over to examine it, and I blinked in amazement at the healthy, unmarred skin. The burned flesh and weeping blisters were gone, along with my pain.
I was so mesmerized that I didn’t fight him when he reached for my other hand. That one wasn’t as badly burned, but relief still trickled through me as he healed it.
