Alana Serra - Sky Lord’s Desire (Sin & Salvation Book 2)

Sky Lords Mate Alana Serra and Holly Lexington 2019.

Amazon Kindle Edition.

Edited by Mystique Editing.

Cover design by Resplendent Media.

A ll rights reserved . No part of this story may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writers imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

The author has asserted his/her rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book.

This book contains sexually explicit content which is suitable only for mature readers.

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I am so close to salvation. So close to giving myself to my mate and claiming her in turn. The single, bond-affirming kiss we shared is not enough for me. It will never be enough. I will always want more of her sinfully sweet taste, that husky edge to her voice, the way her soft, warm body melts into me. Even as I lean in to claim her mouth once again, my blood thrums insistently, my cock already painfully hard for her. I want to do away with this clothing, no matter how thin, and use my lips and tongue to make her scream. Then I want to bury myself inside of her tight, wet cunt and pray I will never again have to be parted from her perfect body.

But before I can even feel her lips on mine, Im stricken by a sudden, sharp pain in my back. It sears through my body like pure flame lashing my spine, and I cry out in agony. I was so caught up in Allie that it takes me far too long to realize what has even happened, and when I do, I feel as though Ive been stabbed anew as anger shocks through me. My pulse pounds, my teeth grind together, and there quickly comes a moment where the pain is secondary to the only thing that truly matters:

Protecting my mate.

Yet as my attacker wrenches his blade freesomething long, thin, and cut with jagged, torturous edgesI cannot move. Ice floods my veins and I drop to one knee, letting out a gasp. I can feel the wetness of my own blood streaking my back, but it is the only thing I feel there. My muscles are utterly useless, its a struggle even to remain on one knee when everything in me wants to collapse outright.

Allie, I manage, her name choked, my throat closing around it.

I know what this is. The assassins of the Anjari coat their daggers in a substance that paralyzes my kind, rendering us all but defenseless in a matter of moments. It is bad enough to stab a Warlord in the back, but to completely shy away from a fair fight is the ultimate sign of cowardice. Rage burns in me, my body growing hot with it, my hands clenched into fists at my side. But all the rage in the world does not help me now, and it cannot help Allie, either.

Fear lances through my soul, striking deeper than the assassins dagger could ever reach. It would be madness for him to kill her. If the Anjari believe the humans are their mates, they will want her brought back to them. But the idea of being unable to do anything as my mate is taken from me, taken to a place where she is meant only to be a vessel it tears me apart like nothing else.

I try to push myself up, but the effort only results in my other leg giving out. Allies eyes are wide as she looks at my attacker, and I can see she is torn between helping me and fleeing. I look up at her, urging her to save herself, and she backs away from meas well as the Anjari who steps over me to follow.

He wears a mask, only his lifeless, silver eyes visible above it. Everything about him speaks to what he is. Sharp features, lithe limbs, a thin and agile form. His shimmering, pale skin and the near-translucent clothing that clings to his body are meant to blend into nothingness, allowing him to hide in perfect daylight. Even still, I have no idea how he breached the barrier.

I move as if to lunge for him, but it takes such a monumental effort just for my muscles to twitch and my body to lean forward. I dont come anywhere near him, my hand so far from being able to close around any part of him. In my heart, I know I am about to watch my mate be taken, right in front of me.

And there is nothing I can do about it.

But I have underestimated Allies resourcefulness--and her bravery. When the Anjari grabs for her, she darts to the side. Her keen eyes take in her surroundings and fix on something in the corner. I follow her gaze to the fireplace and pride surges within me. She intends to fight. I can see it in her iron resolve, feel it coming off of her in waves.

I sensed from the moment I met her that she was meant to be my Queen, but now I can see it as she grabs the poker from the fireplace, strikes it through the embers, and immediately thrusts it forward. It catches the Anjari in the side, just below his arm, and satisfaction pulses through me as he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

But then his hand shoots out, his long fingers curling tightly around the poker. I see Allies eyes widen as he wrenches the makeshift weapon downward. She holds on with both hands, gritting her teeth against the obvious pain as her arm twists beneath his strength.

I struggle again, a roar tearing from my own throat. Fighting the paralysis, I push myself to my feet, but it takes all of my strength just to do that, and already my muscles and joints have locked. I cant get to her. I know I cant, and I have never been filled with more terror. She will fight him, and he may well decide to kill her over it.

The door opens and I expect to see another Anjari to assist in the task. Instead I see Tulivan, his dark eyes widening, his aged face setting into immediate ferocity. He moves with a speed I did not think he possessed, his hand closing around the handle of a sickle thats belted at his waist. Slashing outward, he aims right for the Anjaris neck, trying to cleave his head from his shoulders.

But the assassin is too quick. He darts beneath the swipe and one of his hands shoots upward, gripping Tulivans wrist. He twists so hard, so fast that I can hear the snap of brittle bone from here. The old Daevosi does little more than grimace, his face set in determined fury as he refuses to yield.

I understand why moments later. The further the Anjaris arm extends, the less of a hold he has on Allie. She is well aware of it, perfectly still in his grip until the moment when it eases just enough. With a rush of energy, she breaks free of her captor and stumbles toward me. My mates presence, her instinct is enough to keep me on my feet. The paralytic still pumps through my veins, but my duty to her wins out. I thrust my arm out before her, putting my body between Allie and the assassin, my free hand going for one of my blades.

Tulivan is losing his valiant struggle. Theres another snap of bone before he cries out, the sound sending a shockwave of agony through me. He should not have to endure this for me, but I know he would do it a thousand times over. I step forward, hand gripping the hilt of my blade, but Tulivans eyes catch mine.

Dont, he breathes.

And then he jerks forward, his eyes wide, mouth open as blood trickles from the corner. The Anjari stands so close to him, his face beside Tulivans, his soulless silver eyes fixed on me as a rictus stretches across his lips.