When
Darkness Ends
Guardians of Eternity # 12
Guardians of Eternity # 12
By: Alexandra Ivy
Releasing May 26, 2015
Zebra
The Guardians of Eternity are facing a
final battle to save their world—but battles of the heart may be the most
difficult to fight…
Cyn,
the vampire clan chief of Ireland, is an unabashed hedonist whose beauty is
surpassed only by his insatiable appetite for pleasure. It’s no wonder he’s
furious when he’s transported from the magical land of the pureblooded feys to
his desolate private lair—only to have his very existence thrown into a chaos
that even he cannot charm his way out of…
Most
women may be all but powerless against Cyn, but Fallon, a sharp-witted fairy
princess, is less than beguiled by the silver-tongued vampire. She’s a serious
soul with no time for the sort of games he plays—especially when they learn
that someone is trying to close the veil that separates the dimensions. But
seduction may prove the most powerful force of all, as attraction ignites
between the unlikely pair even as worlds are colliding around them…
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/40933-guardians-of-eternity
Author Info
ALEXANDRA IVY graduated
from Truman University with a degree in theatre before deciding she preferred
to bring her characters to life on paper rather than stage. She currently lives
in Missouri with her extraordinarily patient husband and teenage sons. To stay
updated on Alexandra’s Guardian series or to chat with other readers, please
visit her website at www.alexandraivy.com
Rafflecopter Giveaway (three copies of
WHEN DARKNESS ENDS )
EXCERPT
Ireland, present day
Cyn, clan chief of Ireland and former
berserker, moaned as he slowly regained consciousness. His brain was fuzzy,
which meant it took a full minute to realize he was lying butt-naked on the
cold stone floor of a cave.
Bloody hell. It had been a millennium
since he’d woken in this precise cave, naked and disoriented. He didn’t like it
any better today than he had a thousand years ago.
What’d happened?
With a groan he forced himself to a
sitting position, his body hardening at the intoxicating scent that teased at
his nose.
Champagne?
A fine, crisp vintage that made his
entire body tingle with anticipation.
For a blissful minute he allowed the
fragrance to swirl around him. It was oddly familiar. And, surprisingly, it
stirred a complex mixture of emotions.
Arousal. Wariness. Frustration
It was the frustration that abruptly
forced him to recall why the scent was so familiar.
Muttering a curse, Cyn had a searing
memory of following a beautiful fairy through a portal. No . . . not a fairy,
he wryly corrected himself. A Chatri. The ancient purebloods of the fey world
who’d retreated to their homeland centuries before.
He’d been there to help Roke locate his
mate, but Princess Fallon had shoved him out of the throne room when it was
obvious that Roke and Sally needed time to work out their differences,
insisting that he leave them in peace.
He’d only been vaguely annoyed at first.
He didn’t trust the cunning Chatri as far as he could throw them, especially
not their king, Sariel. But he wanted Roke to work out his troubles with his
mate.
Besides, he was male enough to appreciate
being in the company of a beautiful woman.
Or in the case of Fallon . . . a
breathtakingly exquisite woman.
Her hair was a glorious tumble of rich
gold brushed with hints of pale rose. The sort of hair that begged a man to
bury his face in the silken mass. Her eyes were polished amber with flecks of
emerald and framed by the thickest, longest lashes Cyn had ever seen. And her
ivory features . . . gods almighty, they were so perfect they didn’t look real.
He might be suspicious of Fallon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy
fantasizing about having her tossed on the nearby chaise longue while he peeled
the gown off her slender body, he’d assured himself.
So he’d allowed himself to be distracted
by the lovely female as he sipped the potent fey wine, not realizing the danger
until his head began to spin and the world went dark.
Idiot.
He should have known that they were
plotting something.
He might have a fondness for the fey, but
that didn’t mean he wasn’t well aware of their mercurial natures.
And their love for luring the unwary into
their clever traps.
With a low growl he turned his head,
easily spotting the female who was sprawled naked on the ground, her golden
hair shimmering even in the darkness.
He wanted to know how the hell she’d
managed to bring them to the caves beneath his private lair. And he wanted to
know now.
Cyn moved to bend beside her slumbering
form, pretending that he wasn’t acutely aware of the enticing temptation of her
long, slender body and the fragile beauty of her pale face.
Sleeping Beauty . . .
A scowl marred his forehead. Aye. She was
a beauty. She was also a powerful fey princess who’d managed to catch him off
guard once.
It wasn’t going to happen again.
“Fallon?” Cyn murmured, his voice deep
and laced with an accent that hadn’t been heard in this world for centuries.
She heaved a sigh at the sound of his voice, but she remained stubbornly
asleep. Cyn knelt at her side, knowing better than to touch her. The feel of
that satin skin beneath
his fingertips was guaranteed to make him
forget he was pissed as hell at her little trick. “Fallon,” he growled, his
voice a command. “Wake up.”
She gave a small jerk, her lashes
fluttering upward to reveal the striking amber eyes with the shimmering flecks
of emerald.
For a long moment she studied him in
stunned confusion.
Understandable.
Most people found Cyn . . . intimidating.
At six foot three he had a powerful chest and thick muscles that marked him as
a warrior. His thick mane of dark blond hair hung halfway down his back except
for the front strands that he kept woven into tight braids that framed his
face.
His features were chiseled along blunt
lines with a square jaw and high cheekbones. His brow was wide and his jade
green eyes heavily lashed. Females seemed to find him handsome enough, but
there was never any mistake that he was a ruthless killer.
She sucked in a shaky breath as her gaze
lowered to the barbaric Tuatha Dé Danann tattoos that curled and swirled in a
narrow green pattern around his upper arms, emphasizing the perfect alabaster
of his skin.
His lips twisted, wondering what she
would think of the golden dragon tattoo with crimson wings that was currently
hidden beneath the thick mane of his hair.
He’d earned the mark of CuChulainn that
was branded onto his right shoulder blade after he’d survived the battles of
Durotriges.
It marked him as a clan chief.
“Vampire,” she muttered, as if having
difficulty remembering who he was.
He narrowed his gaze, wondering what game
she was playing. “Cyn.”
“Yes . . . Cyn.” Her confusion was
replaced with a horror as if she were suddenly remembering who he was. A horror
that only intensified when she belatedly realized they were both butt-naked.
“Dear goddess.” She shoved herself to a sitting position, curling her arms
around her knees as she glared at him with angry accusation. “What have you
done to me?”
“Me?” He made a sound of disbelief,
unconsciously reaching to push a strand of golden hair off her flushed cheek.
“No . . .” With a flare of panic she was
scrambling backward, a genuine fear flaring through the amber eyes. “Stay
away.”
Cyn muttered a low curse. Her pretense of
confusion was annoying the hell out of him, but he didn’t like the thought that
she was afraid of him.
Strange when he’d devoted several
centuries to terrifying his enemies.
“Settle down, princess,” he murmured
softly.
“Settle down?” A flush stained her
beautiful face. “I wake up naked in the company of a strange vampire far away
from my home and you want me to settle down?” She bit her bottom lip, her flush
deepening to crimson. “Did you—”
“What?”
“Violate me?”
What the hell? Cyn surged upright. Six
foot three of quivering, offended, naked male.
“No, I didn’t damned well violate you,”
he rasped. “And if I had, I can assure you that you would not only remember,
but you’d be on your knees thanking me for the privilege.”
Her fear was replaced by a more familiar
disdain. As if he was a bug that needed to be squashed beneath her royal heel.
“Why, you arrogant . . . leech.”
He folded his arms over his massive
chest. “At least I’m not a stuck-up prig of a fairy.”
“If you didn’t violate me, why are we
naked?” she demanded, careful to keep her gaze locked on his face. Was she
afraid his bare body might strike her blind? “And how did we get here?”
He snorted. “That’s a question I should
be asking you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m a vampire.”
Her lips thinned in annoyance, her chin
tilted as she continued her ridiculous charade of innocence.
“Yes, I had managed to figure that out.”
“Then you know that I can’t create
portals,” he snapped, deliberately allowing his gaze to skim downward. Unlike
the aggravating female, he had no problem enjoying a naked body. Especially one
so appetizing. “Only the fey can do that.”
She frowned, belatedly realizing she
couldn’t try and pin the blame of their abrupt teleportation on him.
Odd, she hadn’t struck him as stupid.
Just the opposite, in fact.
“Fey aren’t the only creatures who can
create portals.” She tried to hedge.
“Well, I obviously didn’t do it.”
“Neither did I.”
He made a sound of impatience. Why was
she continuing with this game?
“You expect me to believe you?”
The flecks of emerald shimmered in her
eyes. “My father has forbidden his people to leave our homeland.”
“Oh aye, and a daughter has never dared
to disobey her father.”
She cast a condemning glance around the
barren cave.
“Trust me. If I did decide to defy my
father, I wouldn’t choose to travel to this dump.”
His low growl filled the air. He was a
true hedonist. A vampire who reveled in rare books, fine wine, and beautiful
women.
And in turn, women adored him.
All women.
But this female . . .
She wasn’t the warm, willing, bundle of
pleasure he was accustomed to. She was rude and prickly and downright
dangerous.
“Watch your tongue, princess,” he
snarled. “This dump happens to be a part of my private lair.”
“There.” She pointed an accusing finger
toward him. “I knew it. You kidnapped me.”
Cyn rolled his eyes. Could this farce get
any more ridiculous?
“The only one kidnapped was me.”
“Why would I kidnap an oversized,
ego-bloated vampire?”
Yeah. Why would she? It took him a minute
to shuffle through his still-fuzzy thoughts.
“To keep me from protecting my friend,”
he at last concluded.
Hadn’t she pulled him out of the throne
room, leaving Roke at the mercy of her father, Sariel? And then she’d plied him
with some wicked fey brew that had knocked him unconscious.
Aye. It made perfect sense that it was a
nefarious plot to separate him from his friend.
At least it did until she glared at him
in outraged disbelief.
“Are you completely mental? Your friend
was exactly where he wanted to be.”
Okay. She had a point. Roke hadn’t looked
like he needed Cyn’s services. In
fact, the last he’d seen of his fellow
vampire, he was wrapping his mate in his arms, his expression one of besotted
devotion.
Bleck.
“Then perhaps you simply wanted to be
alone with me.” He flashed a smile that revealed his snowy white fangs. One way
or another he was getting answers. “You wouldn’t be the first female to use
magic to get me into your bed.”
She muttered something distinctly
unladylike beneath her breath.
“I am a fairy princess.”
“And?”
“And I don’t share my bed with—”
He planted his hands on his hips, his
expression daring her to finish the sentence.
“With?”
Her lips parted to complete her insult,
but before she could speak there was a sizzle of power in the air. Cyn turned
toward the center of the cave, his muscles coiled to attack as there was a
faint pop, and then a tiny demon dressed in a long white gown appeared out of
thin air.
Cyn gave a startled hiss, his eyes
widening at the creature who could easily pass as a young girl with her small
stature and long silver braid that nearly brushed the floor. Cyn, however,
wasn’t fooled. He recognized the strange oblong eyes that were a solid black
and the sharp, pointed teeth.
This was no harmless juvenile.
She had enough power to crush him and his
entire clan.
Even worse, she was an Oracle. One of the
rare demons who sat on the Commission, the ultimate rulers of the demon world.
“Enough squabbling, children,” she
chided, folding her hands together as she studied them with an unnerving
intensity.
“Holy shite.” Cyn offered a belated bow.
“Siljar.”
Fallon crouched on the ground, her arms
wrapped around her knees in a futile effort at modesty.
“You know this person?”
“Not person,” Cyn corrected, shivering as
Siljar’s energy sizzled over his skin. “Oracle.”
The amber eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Forgive me.” Siljar gave an absent wave
of her hand and Cyn made a strangled sound of shock as he found himself covered
by a plain white robe that hit him just below the knees. The Oracle gave
another wave of her hand and Fallon was covered in a matching robe. “I haven’t
created a portal into the fairy homeland for a number of centuries.”
Cyn scowled, ignoring Fallon’s
I-told-you-so glare. “You brought us here?” he demanded.
Siljar gave a nod of her head. “I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I have need of you.”
His acute hearing picked up Fallon’s soft
sigh of relief as she rose to her feet and brushed her hands down the satin
robe.
“You need the vampire?”
“I have a name,” he reminded the princess
with a snap.
Siljar clicked her tongue, her gaze
shifting from Fallon to Cyn.
“I need both of you.”
Cyn stiffened. It was never, ever a good
thing when an Oracle had need of him.
“Why?”
There was the unmistakable scent of
sulfur as Siljar’s expression tightened with anger.
“I fear the Commission is being tampered
with.”
Cyn arched a brow. Hadn’t Styx sent word
that they’d uncovered the plot by the strange demons who’d been holding
Fallon’s father captive?
“Aye, we know the Nebule planted a spy to
pose as an Oracle,” he said.
Siljar shrugged. “He has been destroyed.”
Oh. Cyn grimaced. “You suspect there’s
another traitor?”
“That was my first thought,” Siljar
admitted. “But I believe that on this occasion the Oracles are being
manipulated without their knowledge.”
That seemed . . . unlikely.
“Why are you suspicious?” he demanded.
Siljar hesitated a second before
revealing what was troubling her.
“Over the past few weeks I’ve found
myself awakening as if from a trance to discover I’m seated in the Council
Room,” she at last said.
Cyn blinked in confusion. That was it?
He’d been kidnapped and dropped naked in these caves because the old gal was
becoming forgetful?
He forced himself to consider his words.
Only an idiot implied that an Oracle might be going a bit batty.
“The past year has been stressful,
especially for the Commission,” he murmured.
“It has. And if I was the only Oracle to
experience the strange phenomenon, then I would assume that your implication
that I’m suffering from some sort of mental decay was right.” Her lips twitched
as he flinched at her blunt words. “I am, after all, quite old and it wouldn’t
be entirely unlikely that I would accidentally transport myself to a familiar
location without realizing what I’m doing.”
Cyn ignored Fallon’s barely hidden
amusement at his discomfort.
“But?”
“More than once I discovered I wasn’t
alone.”
Cyn grimaced even as he heard Fallon suck
in a startled breath.
Having Siljar suffering from an
occasional blackout was one thing. To think of the entire Commission being
controlled by some unseen force . . . bloody hell.
“The other Oracles didn’t know how they
got there either?” he rasped.
Siljar gave a somber shake of her head. “No.”
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