Reluctant (Heroes of the Highlands) (The MacKays #3) by Kerrigan Byrne Page B

green fire and her little nostrils flared with the first hint of anger he imagined she’d shown in decades.
    “ Excuse me ?” Her voice had lost all husky notes of pleasure and sex, infused with a shrillness that was not Banshee, but purely female.
    He continued, unfazed. “What do you know about hatred? What do you know about being so consumed with an emotion that you’re willing to give your life for it? Have you ever experienced darkness so cavernous, that you could throw yourself into it and take an eternity to reach its depths?”
    She just stared at him.
    “Have you ever explored the capacity of your own brutality? Have you forced yourself to accept the ugliness that lives in your own soul?”
    Kamdyn shook her head with such vehemence, her curls bounced over her shoulders. Denial shone in her stance, in the clench of her tiny fists, in the intensity of her delicate features. “I don’t have the capacity for brutality.”
    His sound was so devoid of mirth it didn’t qualify as a laugh. “No? How do you describe a woman who will accept a man’s cock, but deny his love?”
    She shrieked, and reached for him. For a brief moment, Soren thought that he’d goaded her enough to finally jolt him with her magic, but she merely pushed at his chest in utter frustration.
    He took a step back, just so she’d feel like she’d gained some ground. Now if that wasn’t love, he’d cut out his own tongue.
    “I do not deny your love!” she insisted. “Because you do not feel love. Lust, yes. Possession, perhaps. But because you are capable of feeling hatred, doesn’t mean you can just as easily fall in love. And not in one night.”
    It’s exactly why I can,” he insisted. “I’ve seen the most vile ugliness man or God is capable of producing. I’ve been consumed with hatred, vengeance, and emptiness for more decades than you’ve been alive. And I know what I feel for you is love because it is the opposite of all that, but equally as powerful, perhaps more so.”
    When she began to chew on the inside of her cheek, Soren knew he’d gotten to her, at least a little.
    “You live in a perfect world full of perfect immortals and you hate it,” he pressed. “Everything in your soul rejects it, and do you know why?”
    “Nay,” she whispered.
    “ Because in a place devoid of ugliness, a land without flaws, how can you appreciate the beauty of perfection? How can it hold any meaning?” Soren suddenly knew he could not convince her. Not with words. Frustration warred with the more tender, foreign emotions she nurtured inside him. His little Banshee was afraid and love and hope couldn’t pierce such fear unless she reached beyond it. And maybe there wasn’t time for that.
    “Because of the ugliness I’ve seen, I find your sweet, innocent beauty more tempting than all the other women in this world.”
    She crossed her arms over her breasts, a gesture he didn’t appreciate. “You haven’t seen that many women.”
    “I’ve seen enough.” He waved her words away. “I know that I enjoy no sound above your voice. Not the wind in the trees, the roll of the sea, or the dying screams of my enemies.”
    Her brows drew together at that last one, but she said, “Go on,” in a mulish voice.
    “I know that after having you, I will never lust after another.”
    “Of course you won’t,” she argued. “I’m going to kill you in a couple of minutes.”
    That dragged a harsh laugh from him, which seemed to startle her. He liked that she was stubborn. She’d have needed it were they to share a life together. “I could live a couple of centuries and still never find the pleasure you’ve given me in one night. I’ve experienced enough pain to know that, beyond a shadow of a doubt. But if I still belonged in this world, it would be to live beside you. Inside you.” He stalked her like the predator he was. She backed away from him, but there was only so far she could go. “I know that every Berserker searches the