Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) (17 page)

Completely
confused, I looked up at him,
I haven’t.

“No,
but perhaps you were meant to be.”

I
don’t believe in that kind of thing.

He
cocked an orange eyebrow.  “And you think your belief in it makes any
difference?”

I
opened my mouth, but then thought about what he was saying.  Not the destiny
thing, but what he was saying about me.  I wondered if other demons would see
me as a good Scion, not as a half-caste who had no business with the title.

“Come,”
he put his arm out in a formal way, and I batted it away playfully.  When I
came up beside him, standing close enough for our shoulders to touch—or
technically my shoulder to touch his knobby elbow since he was much taller than
me—he smiled that smile again that I was quickly becoming a sucker for. 

“Are
we walking?” I asked, disappointed.

“Rowan
is below,” Connell pointed over the ledge of the building.  “And I don’t fancy
getting
rocked
in the noggin on our way down.”

I laughed,
charmed by the Mischief demon as I realized what he said, the way he said it,
was Connell being Connell.  I felt victorious.

“May
I speak plainly?” he asked as we descended a small but sturdy stairwell on the
outside of the building.

“I
wish you would.  I have no intention of getting used to these Royaly
preconceptions everyone seems to have.”

Connell
chuckled warmly.  “You’re drenched in Rowe’s scent.”

I
shrugged a shoulder.  “I’m wearing his sweater.”

“Uh
huh.”

My
eyes grew wide at his accusation, but I was also amused.  This was friendly
teasing.  When an hour ago he was afraid to look at me.

I
saw the scowl on Rowan’s face when Connell grabbed me around the waist with
both hands to help me down from the stairs that ended a few feet off the
ground.  I didn’t need to be experienced with male testosterone poisoning to
know what it meant.

Touch
him and I’ll have him take me home instead of you.

Rowan’s
eyes slit, and Connell shook with his amusement.  I deliberately let them both
hear me, making an effort to test telepathing with different castes at the same
time.  Seemed easy enough. 

If
today proved anything, it was that Rowan was definitely right.  I needed to be
able to telepath with confidence.  If for no other reason, demons seemed more
comfortable with me when I did.

“I
may wish to keep you, beauty.  You would be an entertaining companion,” he
smiled, and I smiled.  “And a fun conquest.”

“Watch
yourself, Connell.”

The
growl in Rowan’s chest was so animal, I wondered if Hammer demons were
responsible for werewolf stories.  Though Rowan was more feline than canine. 
Agile, and almost appearing leisurely though his predatory instincts were
always on high alert.  That screamed cat to me.

“Alas,”
Connell patted my arm.  “Seems as though you’re spoken for.”

He’s
required to act protective.  It’s his job.
  This time, my telepath was for Connell alone.  As I saw Rowan’s lack of
a reaction, I knew I’d succeeded.

“Uh
huh,” Connell repeated his pointed, but subtle suggestion from before, and I
couldn’t help but laugh.  Which irritated Rowan further.

Cheeky
demon,
I teased, ignoring Rowan’s irritation
with me.

“I
don’t understand what your problem is,” I snapped as Rowan let his firm grip on
my wrists go after an excessively bumpy jump back to my bedroom, which I
suspected was intentional.

When
he let my hands go, I slapped his chest and pushed as hard as I could, searching
for any demon reserves that might still be untapped inside me.  Rowan didn’t
budge an inch.

He
crossed his arms while straightening his shoulders, taking a defensive stance
in the middle of my room.  He filled the space, making the walls draw in somehow,
and I was the one who backed away. 

“His
true form doesn’t offend you?” Rowan asked, but it sounded like a revolted
accusation.

“Why
should it?” I said, feeling protective of the demon who made my day and helped
me forget my problems, even if only for a little while.  “Connell prefers being
unglamoured, doesn’t he?”

Rowan’s
expression was hard to read, almost blank.  When normally his feelings—usually
of annoyance—were written all over him, this new, blank calm kind of frightened
me. 

What
did I care?  He could be as closed off as he wanted to be, the damn, aggravating,
controlling, scowly...

But
I did care.  And his blank stare was causing a dull pain to grow in my chest.

Rowan
was completely unaware, or unconcerned with my physical reaction to his coldness.
 “You aren’t attracted to Gray.  Perhaps I should have realized you’d go for—”

“What?”
I squawked.

“There
are all types of females.  If something exists, there is sure to be a living
creature that prefers it above all others, no matter how appalling it might
seem to some.  A female who spurns a Tempter’s advances…” Rowan tilted his
head, lifted his eyebrows, but he looked blank, bored.  “Perhaps the Fae are
more her type.”

“I
like Connell, but not like that.”  I stared at his vacant face, his steady
stare, and felt the growing dread in my gut, unsure why it was so strong and so
chilling.  “God, Rowan, what’s wrong with you?”

He
scoffed.  “What could a female possibly like about one of the Fae if not—?”

“I
like that he doesn’t hide,” my top lip curled, pushing away the strange anxiety
in favor of a borderline smoke-and-fire rage.  Only now, I wasn’t so sure I had
that in my back pocket.  It didn’t feel so malevolent anymore.

Connell
was supposed to be Rowan’s friend.  Why was he acting like this?  I couldn’t
tell if he was trying to offend me, but my words were short and filled with
hostility as I snipped, “If there were no other reason, that would be enough
for me.  I hate glamour.  It’s a lie.  I wasn’t kidding before.  Connell has a
choice. 
You
have a choice.” 

I
glared. 
You choose the wrong one.

Rowan
bared his teeth, and hit me with one of those palpable waves of something I
kept feeling from him.  I felt triumphant at making him angry, if even for a
second.  Any reaction was better than the blankness I was getting a moment ago.

“The
Fae was hitting on you,” Rowan grumbled, as if that was explanation enough for
his reactions.  It wasn’t. 

“So?” 
Was it so hard to believe?  I wasn’t ugly anymore.  I wasn’t completely empty
and emotionless.  I telepathed,
Why shouldn’t a male want me?

He
sneered, looked away, and mumbled, “you’re Scion.”

If
you use that as a general excuse again, I’ll…

“You’ll
what?  Telepath me to death?” snapping his head back to look at me.  “Not that
I doubt your ability to achieve such a thing.  But, it
is
the only power
in your arsenal. 
Half-caste.
”

I
seethed, wrath and exasperation making my bones ache.  The muscles in my face
twitched.  My limbs shook with the force of my surge in blood flow.  Yes, I was
just a half-caste.  But willing to take it as the insult he intended it to be? 
Not anymore.  Especially not from him.

Fire
flooded my vision.  I did still have access to it.  Smoke smoldered below my
surface.  It told me to destroy, to rule.  To command.

Unglamour
yourself.

The
command was different than any telepath because it literally shook me.  My
voice never could have gained such intensity before.  It was primal, and in
that moment, it felt right, like that kind of authority belonged to me.

To
my complete surprise, the tinsel-shimmer of glamour fell across him.  I
gawked.  What else was I to do?

I’d
made him do something he didn’t want to do. 

Rowan
hardly looked any different without his glamour, especially since he sneered
and glared at me, accusing me of doing exactly the thing I did.  At first, I
thought he’d tricked me, making me believe he was obeying my telepath.

But
I’d seen the tell-tale tinsel-shimmer over his body.  I saw the same exact
thing I’d seen other demons do when they lifted their glamour.

With
the same fair hair, the same champagne eyes, the same height, impressive muscle
structure, and sun-kissed skin, there was scarcely a difference. 

But
there were fangs in his mouth now, each tooth larger, sharper, with four
impossibly long canines.  And there was a presence to him that screamed dangerous,
though I couldn’t figure out if it had anything to do with his appearance.  He
had retractable claws like a wild cat, and when he shifted his weight from one
foot to the other, even that slight movement looked lithe and sure.  Exactly
like the feline predator I’d classified him as earlier.

He
was unbelievable. 

My
eyes grew wide as I realized how to define what my body was feeling.  I liked
how he looked.  I loved that his glamour was hardly a glamour at all.  He was remarkable. 
He was…

Sexy. 

The smoke-and-fire
was washed away in a sea of so many things.  A full-body tremble.  Surprise. 
Shyness.  Undeniable desire.

I
wanted to touch him.  Oh God, I wanted him to touch me.

And
I think he knew it.  His glower softened, and I got a wave from his direction
that added to the draw I already felt towards him.

I sighed
shakily, and he growled low in his throat and deep in his chest.  The muscles
along his arms rippled.  His champagne irises were flecked with pinpricks of
white gold.

My
body needed to feel the power of this male against it.  I’d never felt anything
so pure.  I couldn’t resist the need.  Didn’t want to.

He
growled louder, lower, and my shaking went deeper.

Before
I realized I began moving, Rowan was in front of me, unfolding his strong arms
carefully so not to touch me.

He
blinked repeatedly. 

My breath
was ragged.  My pulse pounding a beat in my throat, deep in my belly, and in
other places that were going to embarrass me when I thought about it later.  I
reached out an unsteady hand, and touched my fingers to his arm. 

Ziiiing!
  Skin to skin. 

Only
this time, it was all Rowan.  His coarse hair beneath my fingers.  His heat.  No
glamour separating us.

He
flinched, but didn’t pull away.

Wow.

At
first, Rowan’s moves were reluctant.  But I wanted him closer, and he wanted to
be closer.  If he didn’t, he would have snapped at me, and left.

“You’re
projecting,” he said, and I was afraid I was making him uncomfortable again, but
his words came out husky, and he laughed quietly.

So I
said,
I’m meaning to
, my internal voice matching his husky words.  He
growled that deep, throaty growl again, and let his head fall so his face buried
into my hair.

His
hands found my wrists, just as before when he’d jumped us back to my room, but
now, his touch was tender—sizzling, but tender.  Rowan’s thumbs made soft
circles over my racing pulse.  When he began moving his hands along my arms, using
his claws against my sensitive skin, I moaned, letting him feel everything I was
feeling, and his lethal body trembled.

Guess
projecting does have its uses.

Rowan
chuckled, the rumble next to my ear, the vibrations exhilarating.

I
placed my hands on Rowan’s biceps, encouraging him to look at me.  When he did,
his champagne and white gold eyes crackled with alluring warmth.  I didn’t have
to be experienced to know what the heat in his eyes meant.  Part of me shook
with desire, while another melted under the look of affection, and the
unbelievable patience he was showing.

Because
he was letting me control this.

The
most amazing realization struck me.  Like the ease of no longer projecting, I
felt the key to a puzzle that had evaded me click into place.  Suddenly, I just
got it.

I
liked him. 

Not only
how he looked.  I really liked him.  Like females liked males.  Like he’d
thought I liked Connell.  Like I’d never been open enough for before.

Rowan
didn’t treat me as fragile, or as less than for being a half-caste.  He was the
only one who didn’t.  He hadn’t been insanely alpha male like I’d told
Connell.  He’d let me handle Holly and Jake.  He took me to Faction even if it
could have been dangerous. 

Rowan
believed in me. 

The
demon saw something in me, and it had nothing to do with my Scion status which
I’d done nothing to gain or deserve.  Rowan was the only one who told me
anything about demonkind, anything at all useful about the Underrealm. 
RowRnfkdbkjd;fnkj
He wasn’t manipulative like
Grayson, he didn’t bow before me like Cyrus. 

And
I craved knowing him in every way a female could know a male.

There
was no doubt he’d be a difficult male to love.  I wasn’t even saying I expected
to fall for him.  But I also knew the idea of falling in love with Rowan didn’t
strike me as so far-fetched.

For
now, he was going to be, already was my first crush.  And I wanted him to be my
first everything.

I
swallowed hard, harnessed my courage, and reveled in how tender the
heavily-muscled, temperamental male was being.

Kiss
me
.

My
only choice was the telepath.  Because I didn’t have the confidence to say it
aloud.  Because this was the first time I’d even wanted to be kissed, been in a
position to be kissed, let alone had such an incredible male to kiss, who might
want to kiss me.

For
a moment, I had no question that Rowan would.  But when the thundering
footsteps making a racket up the wooden stairs registered in my mind, Rowan was
out of my arms and halfway across the room before I knew what was happening.