Free Dark Destiny (Principatus) by Lexxie Couper Page A

Triathlon, an event he himself had competed in for more than ten years, the idea of being jealous never entered his mind. Patrick was his brother and he loved him unconditionally. There had never been a need for jealousy.
    And yet here he was, green with envy over Death’s lustful interest in Pat when he should be dealing with her deadly interest in him instead.
    He scowled, forcing the unwanted, traitorous emotion away with a sharp breath.
    The scent of secret spices and subtle, feminine arousal filled his nose and a ravenous surge of hunger—both blood and sexual—immediately roared through him, making his cock pulse and his fangs extend.
    Death’s blue eyes shimmered to pale ice. “I can feel the hunger in your veins, Steven.”
    He curled his fists and glared at her, refusing to acknowledge the desire gnawing at his control. “What do you want with my brother, Death, if not to take his life?”
    She chuckled a silent laugh, obviously humored by his tenuous resolve. “That’s not the question that needs to be answered, fang face.”
    “What is, then? Will he go to the prom with you?”
    Death leant forward in her seat, her gaze locking on his with fierce curiosity. “ How can he see me? If he is just a mere human—albeit a fucking sexy-assed one—how can he see me ? No one sees me unless I chose for them to do so, no demon, no demi-god, no entity beyond the Powers. No one. And yet, Patrick did. How?”
    The enormity of her statement made Ven’s already ice-cold blood run colder.
    A smile played over Death’s lips. “Told you he isn’t what you think he is.”
    “So what is he, then?”
    She gave the slightest shake of her head, her midnight-ink hair tumbling around her shoulders, her eyes unreadable again. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. One way or the other.”
    Hot, red anger flooded through him. He leant forward, staring her hard in the face, his nose almost touching hers, his fangs extending to lethal points. “Stay. Away. From my. Brother,” he whispered, letting his demon turn each word into a guttural promise of pain.
    Death’s lips parted, enough for the tip of her tongue to touch her bottom lip. “Or what?” she whispered back.
    Ven moved without thought. His mouth crushed hers. Hard. Brutal. She froze for a split second before kissing him back with a savagery that equaled his. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, flicked at the insides of his lips, the daggers of his fangs. The wholly erotic caress was electric. His pulse tripled immediately, an explosive detonation of mortal response he’d not experienced for eighteen years.
    He jolted to his feet, his body thrumming with blistering energy, his cock throbbing with rapacious need.
    Death stared back at him, her eyes wide. Shocked.
    Ven ground his teeth, the sweet elixir of her saliva still on his fangs. “Stay away from my brother,” he growled, his confused mind incapable of commanding his mouth to say anything else. He turned and stormed through the club, struggling to sheath his fangs and his demon.
    The hunger surged through him, devouring him, made the battle to keep his human façade almost impossible. He pushed through the crowd at the club’s entry foyer, his every breath filled with the tauntingly delicious stench of human blood and sweat leeching from those around him.
    Bursting out onto the street, he clenched his fists, fighting for control.
    Focus on your anger, Steven. Think about how hideously you’ve just betrayed your only brother. That should cure your depraved hunger.
    The thought brought no relief. Instead of guilt and rage dousing his lust, his demon grew closer to the surface, powerful and insatiable. Craving blood and sex with such voracious, predatory force, he almost locked his arms around a nearby hooker there and then, his fangs growing longer, readying for her sweet coppery blood to gush from her jugular and flood his throat with vital life.
    He barged through the busy sidewalk, rigid cock