Free Soul Unbound (Key to the Cursed Book 3) by Jean Murray

skepticism. His fingers trembled as
he brushed the hair from the base of her neck.
    He already knew what he would find lurking beneath
the thick brown mane. The scarab brand distorted her otherwise perfect skin.
The mark of a god on death row. This was the exiler he was sent to find. Bast’s Destroyer .
    He did not make the connection until now, and why
Bast had told him to stay clear. The Destroyer had slaughtered innocents after
the war, unable to quell the thirst for blood. But, those had been rumors, ones
he gave little credence at the time. Looking at the mark on her skin, he
believed they very well may be true.
    Why then did the Pantheon let her live? Why after
all this time was Bast interested in her whereabouts? Had her killing resumed?
The memory of the body in the alley came to mind. It was not far from the
diner.
    He shook his head. Too many questions he should
not be asking in the first place. It was not his concern anymore.
    The warmth of her energy crept over his skin and
burrowed deep into his tissues. Being this close to living energy, he could not
restrain his hunger any longer. He drew in long and hard until the tendrils of
energy burned through his veins. He had gone for so long without replenishing
his powers. Similar to the god who sired him, he needed living energy to feed
his soul. Better the goddess than the humans he had been eyeing.
    The goddess stirred against him. Despite her eyes
being closed, her brows furrowed into deep lines. Her palm brushed over his
left chest above where the Underworld shield was scarred into his skin. He
inhaled sharply as his normally numb skin surged alive. The nerve endings
danced with currents of electricity. He pressed his thumb into her temple,
uncertain how much he could sedate her without harm. Tonight was the first time
in his life he tapped into his powers.
    He lived a warrior’s life and refused to embrace
the gifts his father had given him. Asar never pushed him on this issue. Bomani
had risen to the top by his own fortitude. No one dared challenge him on that
issue.
    Bomani was no god. Gods lived in the palace with
fancy dishes and servants to placate their every need. He’d lived on a dirty
mattress for centuries. He valued only what he earned through blood and pain.
    Yet, it seemed appropriate to incapacitate the
female before she caused herself more damage fighting him. Based on the burning
red glow of her eyes, she would not stop. Witnessing the accident from a
distance, he was surprised she remained conscious after the hit she’d taken.
The horse’s leg had buckled on the injured side, just a few strides from the
portal’s entrance.
    Mine ? What the fuck was that about? He
heard the thought in his head as clearly as if it was his own. He could not
discern if he was driven purely by his need to feed his starving soul or anger.
He had too much of both at the moment.
    The tightness in his chest dissipated as the
goddess’ energy recharged him from the inside out. He closed his eyes and
tipped his head back, reveling in the feeling. Bathed in warmth, his tight
muscles loosened and the pain released. The darkness of his vision faded, his
hungry soul sated.
    At least for the moment.
    Movement against his chest brought him out of his
high. He gazed down at the goddess. The wound on her scalp dripped blood. Her
healing stalled, allowing the wound to open again. A sharp spike of regret
filled his chest. He could not replace what he had taken. Guilt rode hard and
deep. He pressed his hand against her head to slow the bleeding.
    What had he become to take advantage of a helpless
female?
    This was not the first time. His conscience
reared its ugly head.
    He released the goddess— no , exiler. Her
body slid to the sand as he surged to his feet. Bitterness raged in his chest.
    Damn, Bast.
    Damn, Kendra.
    Damn them all.

Chapter Eleven
    Black sands and warm waves greeted her sore eyes.
The cold metal of her sword lay under her fingertips in the sand. She pushed