Golden Stair by Jennifer Blackstream Page A

danced in front of his eyes and he cursed and blinked. After he could see again, he found Ivy crumpled on the floor, sobbing with her arms limp at her sides.
     
    Curiosity rose inside Adonis and he crept closer to the edge of the circle. He tucked his wings against his back as he settled into a comfortable sitting position as close as he could get to the crying woman. As the last vestiges of his rage left him, so did the adrenaline. His body grew heavier, tired. If he didn’t renew his pool of energy soon, he might not make it home…ever.
     

Chapter Three
     

     
    Everywhere Ivy looked, the world had a blinding golden glow. Furniture, the sky, even the incubus curled up in the circle beamed like somehow the sun itself had leaked its radiance all over them. She could hardly see, could hardly think.
     
    He’d called her a sun elemental. It was ridiculous, impossible. And yet, now that the words were in her head, she couldn’t help but look at the sun. Its rays caressed her like an old friend, its soothing waves brushing against her skin as soft as a mother’s touch. She couldn’t deny that sunlight had always refreshed her, always revitalized her in a real, tangible way.
     
    But it couldn’t be true. Surely her mother would have told her—
     
    Her gaze zeroed in on the remains of the chair Adonis had fallen onto then darted up to the trapdoor in the roof. Her mother had built that for her. How many times had Dame Gothel guided Ivy to that chair, told her to sit in the sunlight? As if she knew…
     
    Ivy focused her attention to the broad ceiling of the main room of the tower.
     
    The crystals were full. Ivy held her breath, staring open-mouthed at the crystals that covered the ceiling, hanging like shining stalactites. Her mother had planted them there, telling Ivy they would be nurtured by the sunlight that shone in the tower. As each one absorbed the light and became a shining beacon of flame, Ivy harvested them and packed them for her mother to take into battle. Her mother claimed they helped to power her spells.
     
    Now they were all full.
     
    The ceiling was like a blanket of flames, a kaleidoscope of yellow, orange, red, and white burning fingers. A layer of power, if her mother was to be believed.
     
    Because of me. The epiphany fell like a lead weight onto Ivy’s shoulders as she remembered the brilliant bursts of light that had exploded from her body. There was no other explanation for the crystals. She had harvested some yesterday, she knew that only a few of them had sparkled—she certainly would have remembered if they had all mysteriously burst to life at once. Was the incubus right? Was she a sun elemental? Why hadn’t her mother told her?
     
    “I don’t envy you the thoughts you’re having.”
     
    In a daze, Ivy faced the incubus, her attention drawn by his voice. It had changed, grown smoother, almost physical like the slide of silk over skin. The rage of moments earlier had vanished, replaced by the seductive tones he’d used when he’d first arrived.
     
    Seductive.
     
    She looked away, trying to get a grip on her hormones and the completely incomprehensible fact that she did not find him frightening—not at all. Bit by bit, she slid her gaze back to the circle.
     
    Her mother had told her about the demon many times. Ivy had painted him more than once. And it wasn’t that the details were wrong, per se. Somehow they just…came together differently in real life. His broad shoulders were well-rounded with thick muscles, tapering down a smooth, hairless chest to a solid waist. She swallowed hard and jerked her gaze away before she could look any lower. As it was, her cheeks were burning hot enough to make her thoughts plain for the demon to see.
     
    He sat inside the circle, dark eyes intense as he scrutinized her. His skin appeared completely healed, free from the hideous burns she’d inflicted on him. Goosebumps erupted on her flesh as she remembered the way he’d screamed,