Darkness Undone
Book
1 of The Warlords of Empyrea
By G.L.
Hunter
Genre: Paranormal Romance
A fading realm, a
warrior bound, and the woman who will save them both…
Bound to a vengeful
goddess, immortal warrior, Reynner, has little time for the fairer sex. The
last thing he wants is to be aligned with another female, even if she is the
key to finding an artifact and saving his realm. But his stone-cold resistance
is tested, his attraction undeniable for the feisty mortal, until she demands
the one thing he cannot give her…his trust.
Eve Leighton avoids
intimacy of any sort after an accident in her teens left her with a painful
ability to see into another’s mind through physical contact. When an ice-cold
warrior claims she is his world’s savior, she’s intrigued, until she dares a
look into his soul and sees a man who’s been cruelly betrayed. She agrees to
help him and loses her heart. But the man is an unassailable fortress. With
quiet determination, she chips away his barriers and a passion darker than
night pulls them under.
As his enemies
closes in on the hunt for the artifact, Reynner must overcome his own personal
demons as battles are fought to claim the woman he loves or lose her forever.
And Eve has to face her own mortality and fight for a love of a lifetime.
The sudden hush in
the busy little café should have been his first clue shit was about to fly.
Wrapped in his
thoughts, Reynner savored his dark roasted coffee hot enough to scrape a layer
off his throat, when he became aware of the unnatural quiet. Looking up, he got
an eyeful of a tall female sashaying toward him, not in the least surprised
she’d found him. Again.
Lustrous black hair
framed a face of sheer perfection, one that made gods and men whimper for her
favor. A long, fitted white dress with a slit up to her thigh hugged her body
and fell to her ankles.
Oh, he understood
the awed silence all too well since he’d once succumbed to that same sensual spell.
Easing his grip on the mug, he set it aside, wishing he’d taken his coffee to
go. A chair scraped on the linoleum opposite him. A moment later, her stiletto
heel rode up his leather-clad leg to caress his inner thigh beneath the
tablecloth.
He shoved her foot
off him. In a measured move, he picked up a coin from the change on the table
and spun it so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach across and strangle her.
“Get lost, Inanna.
I'm busy.”
“Reynner…” She held
out a hand in appeal, her topaz eyes luminescent with tears. “Don’t do this...”
Ignoring the
Sumerian Goddess of Love and War hadn’t worked in the past, and certainly not
now.
He cut her an
implacable stare. “Don’t do what? Ignore you? Or prefer other females?”
Her face darkened
at his mention of the women. “Why would you want these weak, pathetic
creatures?” Her tears vanished as fast as they appeared. “I'm powerful. I’ll
make it wonderful between us again.”
Reynner leaned back
in the wooden chair and ran a cool, dismissive gaze over her stunning face and
lush body. More flighty promises, but no hint of an apology for what she’d done
to him. The thought would never have entered her narcissistic mind.
“I enjoy other
women.”
“You lie.”
Reynner shrugged.
Picking up the fallen coin, he worked it between his fingers. He just wanted
coffee and a few minutes of quiet before he went back on the streets. Instead,
he got her.
It should have felt
good torturing Inanna, but he got no enjoyment, just a prolonged headache that
had started over two millennia ago.
How could he have
known then that stopping at the Sumerian pantheon would so irrevocably change
his life?
“You’ve become cold
and unfeeling. One little mistake and you're still making me pay.” Her sulky
voice drew him back.
“One little
mistake?” His tone made glaciers seem warm.
“It was just a
teeny-tiny year—”
“A year?” His hands
crashed on the table. The coin flew and disappeared beneath a chair. “It was a
fucking century in Hell!”
Inanna jerked back
and blinked. Several humans turned their way in curiosity.
“Your deception
caught me unaware, never forget what I am,” he said, his warning clear.
Her eyes flickered.
Not from fear, Inanna didn’t believe there was anyone more powerful than her,
but with a gleam of sexual promise. She knew all too well what he was, and why
she hounded him.
Empyreans were a
race of beings as old as the celestial angels and just as powerful, but far
more carnal.
She leaned forward
and rested her arms on the table, her low neckline displaying an eyeful of
cleavage. “I’ll make it up to you…” Her voice lowered to a smoky promise. “I’ll
make you my consort.”
He’d rather be
imprisoned in Hell again.
“You have a mate.”
“I am a goddess. I
can do whatever I want. Come on, lover,” she wheedled. “It will be good between
us again…then I’ll help you find what you seek.”
Reynner stilled,
his instincts on alert. Did she know where the missing Stone was? But meeting
her watchful gaze, he dismissed the thought. No immortal would know for sure.
The damn thing hid from them all. Even if she could aid him, he would never
accept her help. It always came with a price.
Reining in his
irritation, he ignored her baiting and turned to take in the busy café.
The brunette
waitress at the table farther down watched him from beneath her lashes while
she served a customer. She’d been sending him all sorts of signals from the
moment she’d set his coffee down. Ones he didn’t encourage since he had no
interest in females as a whole. Besides, he knew what a jealous bitch Inanna
could be.
A virulent hiss
erupted from opposite him when she spotted the waitress. As if to prove his
point, with a flick of her hand, the waitress flew backward, crashing into a
table. Chaos erupted, drowning the female’s frightened cry. Two human males
rushed to help her.
A cat-like smile
curved Inanna’s mouth. But her eyes flared with ire as she played with the deep
blue lapis lazuli stone set in intricate silver filigree around her neck. “Look
at another human tart again, and I will hurt her.”
Of that, he had
little doubt.
I’ve been creating
stories from the moment I could string two words together. No matter the tale,
it always has romance woven through them. Yes, I'm a hopeless romantic.
When I’m not
writing or plotting new books, I like to read, travel, painting, or troll flea
markets where I usually buy things I might never actually use because they're
so pretty.
After working in a
few jobs all art related, a chosen career as a fashion designer, then an art
teacher, I finally found my passion four years ago: writing. There really is no
other job I’d rather do.
Oh, and I live in
the beautiful country of South Africa.
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