Heart Of Atlantis by Alyssa Day

down the corridor on all fours, leaving his humanity further and further behind with each swish of his silken tiger’s tail.
    Future and past were both too much to contemplate for Quinn’s exhausted mind, so she focused on the present. She found an empty room with beds in it, and she collapsed onto the nearest one, silently apologizing to the bed’s owner for the tears she could no longer contain.
    She’d solve it after she slept. All of it.
    Before exhaustion pulled her under, she thought she saw an Alaric-shaped shadow appear in her doorway, but when she tried to stir, a gentle glow of silvery blue light surrounded her and she found herself drifting further into sleep.
    Jack snarled and then began to snore, a low, rumbling noise, and she thought she heard Alaric’s laughter.
    “You may be sure,
mi amara
, that we will discuss this habit you have of allowing another man into your bed.”
    Her lips almost curved into a smile, and then the world curled around her into the warmth and safety of darkness.

Chapter 4
    Quinn woke up from a dream of walking through fire toward a dragon with glowing emerald eyes, and found herself alone on a bed in a room she didn’t recognize. She automatically checked her knives and guns; all were in place, so she took her first full breath since opening her eyes.
    “Always the warrior first.”
    She snapped her head toward the darkest corner of the room, where Alaric leaned against the wall, blending in with the shadows as if the darkness within him had become tangible while she slept.
    “Interesting comment, coming from the warrior priest,” she countered. “Which comes first with you?”
    “
You
come first with me,” he said harshly, as if he despised her for it. Or hated that she’d asked; that he’d been forced to voice taboo desires. An Atlantean priest sworn to celibacy wanted a rebel sworn to redemption. All of his gods must be laughing.
    “Always you, since the moment I first lay my hands on you to heal that bullet wound. Since I fell inside your soul. Don’t you know that by now, Quinn?”
    She caught her breath at the stark pain in his voice, but steeled herself against it. Warriors and rebels had no business falling prey to emotion.
    “You can’t protect me from the monsters, Alaric,” she said quietly.
    His laughter was dark and somehow terrifying, even to Quinn, who lived her life pretending to fear nothing.
    “Protect you? I would drown the entire world for you, and laugh as every single living being on it died.
I’m
the monster, Quinn. Better you find a way to protect yourself from me, because I am the high priest of blood and battle, and the lord of death and destruction. I will never, ever let you go.”
    Before she could begin to form a response to that, he was across the room and yanking her up off the cot and into his arms. “Never, do you hear me? I will give up my friends, my country, my duty, and even my honor—but never you.”
    He swallowed her protest with his lips, as he captured her mouth in a searing kiss that devoured her, claimed her, branded her as his. She felt herself falling, melting, burning, and she had no chance to deny him or even her own feelings. The walls between them shattered and—for one glorious moment—they stood together, locked in a tempest of need and want and a far more powerful emotion.
    One she didn’t dare name.
    She tangled her hands in his silky hair and kissed him back with every ounce of longing she’d been suppressing for so very long, and the feel of rightness—of
home
—that unfurled within her was so intense that she almost didn’t hear the shouting.
    Almost
. But so many years of training couldn’t be denied for the illusory dream of a moment. Not to mention that Jack had shown up and was snarling and baring his teeth at Alaric. She spared a moment’s embarrassment that he’d seen her kiss Alaric but dismissed it as the unimportant detail it was.
    Flying monkeys, attacking vampires, Atlantean portals