Never Again Read Free Page A

so much, he decided to punish me.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?”
    She spread her fingers against his lips. “Shush. I’m telling a story. I’m not without compassion, you see. I thought you should know why you’re going to die.”
    The blood drained from his face. Kerren wanted to kill him? Why?
    “No more questions, Gray.” Her gaze was that of a stranger, as hard and cold as muddy ice. “If you interrupt me again, I’ll stab you through the heart, and you can go to the darkness not knowing a gods-be-damned thing.”
    He pressed his lips together, mostly because he didn’t want to feel the soft reminders of comfort and pleasure the treacherous woman had once given to him. She feathered her fingertips down his cheek and let them rest on his aching shoulder as she leaned against the altar. He knew he should try to think of ways to free himself, or reason with her, but shock had numbed him. His thought processes felt sluggish, and his body clumsy, probably the result of the poisonous magic that surrounded him.
    “My punishment was to organize the archives. It took a whole summer. My stupid baby sister went to Paris while I toiled away in that tomb. But I found some very interesting things. For instance, the Earl of Mersey’s diary, his personal spellbook, and a little prophecy he’d written before his death. Imagine my surprise when I read all about the demon bargain and found out that in a few short years, I would be penniless.
    “Me? Poor? I don’t think so. I used the same summoning spell, and called forth my own demon lord. He’s very handsome and virile—a real devil in bed.” She winked at him, and nausea churned in his guts. “In exchange for me keeping my wealth and accumulated pretties, all he wanted—other than me, of course—was the heart of a Dragon. Your heart, to be precise.”
    “You don’t love me.” The realization slashed at him, and self-pity was the salt on those wounds. Everything he’d believed about the woman he’d married was wrong. He’d been fooled and cuckolded.
    Kerren watched the play of emotions on his face with avid interest, and Gray realized he was giving his sociopathic wife quite the show. He did his best to blank his features, but she merely laughed. “You can’t hide from me. Or from destiny.”
    Then she produced a wicked dagger and pressed it against his chest. Blood welled where it bit into his skin.
    “I liked you. I enjoyed you. I fucked you.” She leaned close, her breath ghosting over his mouth. “But no, my darling, I never loved you.”
    “Please,” he said as tears fell. He wasn’t sure what he was begging for—mercy or death—but he couldn’t stop the rejoinders. “Please, Kerren. Please. ”
    Disgust entered her gaze. She curled back her lips. “I never expected you to simper. You’re pathetic.” Then she raised the dagger and screamed, “For Kahl!”
    Her aim was true, vicious, and supernaturally strong.
    The double-bladed dagger slid through muscle, bone, heart, lung, flesh. He heard the tip of the blade scratch the stone; then he managed one hoarse scream before the sharp agony abruptly faded.
    In the viscid dark of hell, Gray’s soul struggled.
    Trapped, whispered a thousand voices, betrayed. You are nothing. No one. You are unloved. Unwelcome. Unheralded.
    No, he screamed. I am Gray Calhoun. I am a Dragon. I will live.
    Become one with us. You are the dark. You will always be the dark.
    Pain ripped through him. Though he had no body now, the agony was just as real. He accepted every lightning bolt of anguish, every jagged strike of terror. I will not bow to you, he yelled. You will not break me!
    Then the monster appeared. Its awful smile displayed razor-sharp rows of bloodstained teeth. Gray could discern no other form to go with its terrifying visage—just soulless black eyes, leathery skin, and that terrible grin.
    The heart, it demanded, give me the heart.
    I will not give you anything. Ever. Gray battled through