KISS OF THE NIGHT by Sherrilyn Kenyon

no choice except to lose him."
    "Why?"
    "Everyone dies, my lady. At least in the mortal realm. Yet I go on as everyone around me perishes over and over again." He lifted his gaze to hers. The agony on his face reached deep inside her. "Have you any idea what it is like to hold a loved one in your arms while they die?"
    Cassandra's chest drew tight as she thought of her mother's and sisters' deaths. She had wanted to go to them after the explosion, but her bodyguard had pulled her away while she howled in grief for their loss.
    "It's too late to help them, Cassie. We have to run."
    Her soul had screamed that day.
    Sometimes it screamed even now at the injustice of her life.
    "Yes, I do," she whispered. "I, too, have seen everyone I love die. My father is all I have left."
    His gaze sharpened. "Then imagine doing it thousands of times, century after century. Imagine watching them be born, live, and then die while you carry on and start over with each new generation. Every time I see a member of my family die, it is like watching my brother Erik die all over again. And Chris…" He winced as if the very mention of Chris's name caused him pain. "He is my brother made over in face and form." One corner of his mouth lifted in wry amusement. "And mouth as well as temperament. Of all the family I have lost, his death will be the hardest to bear, I think."
    She saw the vulnerability in his eyes and it affected her deeply that this fierce man would have so human a fault. "He's still young. His whole life is ahead of him."
    "Perhaps… but my brother was only twenty-four when he was slain by our enemies. I will never forget the look on his son Bironulf's young face when he saw his father fall in battle. All I could think of was saving the boy."
    "Obviously you did."
    "Aye. I swore I would never let Bironulf die as his father had. All his life, I kept him safe and he died an old man, in his sleep. Peacefully." He paused for a moment. "I guess in the end I do follow my mother's beliefs more than those of my father. The Norse believed in dying young in battle so that we could enter the halls of
Valhalla, but like my mother, I wanted a different fate for those I loved. 'Tis a pity I came to understand her feelings far too late."
    Wulf shook his head as if to banish those thoughts. He frowned at her. "I can't believe I'm thinking of this while I have such a beautiful maid with me. I am truly growing old when I would rather talk than take action," he said with a deep laugh. "Enough of my morbid thoughts."
    He pulled her forcefully against him. "Now why are we wasting our time when we could be spending it much more productively?"
    "Productively how?"
    His smile was wicked, warm, and it devoured her. "I am thinking my tongue could be put to much better use. What say you?"
    He ran said member up the column of her throat until he could nibble her ear. His warm breath scorched her neck, causing her to shiver.
    "Oh yeah," she breathed. "I'm thinking that is a much better use of your tongue."
    He laughed while he unlaced the back of her gown. Slowly, seductively, he pulled it from her shoulders and let it fall straight to the floor. The fabric slid sensuously against her flesh as it left her body and cold air caressed her.
    Naked before him, she couldn't suppress a deep tremble. It was so odd to be exposed while he stood before her wearing his armor. The firelight played in his dark eyes.
    Wulf stared at the unadorned beauty of the woman before him. She was even more luscious than she had been the last time he'd dreamed of her. He ran his hand tenderly over her breast, letting the nipple tease his palm.
    She reminded him of Saga, the Norse goddess of poetry. Elegant, refined. Gentle. Things he had spurned as a mortal man.
    Now he was captivated by her.
    He still didn't know why he had confided in her. It wasn't like him to speak so freely, and yet she had lured him.
    But he didn't want to make love to her here. Not in the past where his memories and