Lord of the Dark by Dawn Thompson Page A

vaulted out of the chair, his wings menacing. “Come no nearer!” he warned her, his voice echoing off the rocky walls. “There are conditions.”
    She halted in her tracks. “O-of course,” she said. “Name them.”
    He hesitated. What was he doing? He should snatch her up and take her to the mainland. Any delay was dangerous for them both. One could not cheat the gods. He’d learned that lesson firsthand over time. This was what his brain told him. What came out of his mouth was something entirely different.
    “You must keep your distance, for one thing,” he began.
    “Fair enough,” she said with a nod, her hands raised in a gesture of acceptance. She was so excited then, he was certain she would have agreed to anything.
    “You must never touch my wings,” he said. She blushed at that and lowered her eyes with a nod. He hesitated. Should he tell her about the watchers? No. Why frighten her for naught, though he weighed it over and over in his mind before he spoke again on an audible breath. “And while you are my guest here”—he didn’t want her to think she was his prisoner—“you must remain inside the cave.”
    “Why?” she asked him warily.
    “Because I wish it.”
    “I thought to take the air in the daytime,” she said.
    “There are dangers in the air,” Gideon responded. “Besides, if your Rolf has washed up on these shores as well and I am not here to protect you, you could put yourself in great danger.”
    She considered it. “Not even in the courtyard or the gardens if I stay close by? You keep such a dreary house. I thought perhaps I might pick some flowers.”
    “You ‘thought,’” he said, arms akimbo. “There is no courtyard, and there are no gardens. Nothing grows upon the Dark Isle. Did you not see the trees in that wood out there? They are as dead, bearing neither fruit nor foliage. Flowers!” He spat out the last in disgust. “I see you had this all planned out. Well, miss, I have resided upon this isle for many ages. It is fraught with pitfalls where you might do yourself a mischief. I have valid reasons for my conditions. If you cannot abide by them, we leave for the mainland straightaway.”
    She nodded. “I don’t suppose you will tell me what those reasons are?” she murmured.
    She would not leave well enough alone, this enchanting, outspoken beauty the sea had left on his shore. She was passionate and innocent, virginal and seductive all at once. He had never met the like, or her equal. Yes…there was great danger, indeed, for he was passionately intrigued.
    “My reasons are not important,” he said. “Suffice it to say they are very good ones, and have done.”
    “Are there more conditions?”
    He breathed a sigh that flared his nostrils. “Those three shall suffice,” he said. “That you will keep your distance from me and not touch my wings will protect you from my curse—”
    “And what if I do not wish to be protected from your curse?” she interrupted him boldly.
    Gideon stared. This was the last thing he expected her to say, and he froze for a moment. “That would be very unwise,” he finally said in his most casual voice. He went on smoothly, “Remaining inside this cave will keep you safe from any who might see you…unless you want your Rolf to find you?”
    She stamped her bare foot. “He is not my Rolf!” she shrilled. That struck a chord. She had a temper too. He was impressed. He’d seen enough insipid females in his time. This could be quite a pleasant interlude if things were different. He shook himself, disturbing his wings. What was he thinking?
    “A figure of speech,” he said, “nothing more.”
    “Why wouldn’t you let me tell you my name earlier?” she snapped. “Oh, I heard what you said, but there is more to it, I think. If you won’t tell me the rest of your valid reasons, will you at least tell me the real reason for not wishing to know my name?”
    “I had a valid reason for that then as well,” he grumbled