Born of Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon
But as the doctor opened the door and he saw his wife and child, all thoughts scattered. Kiara looked exhausted, but stunningly beautiful, as she looked down at the tiny baby in her arms.
Love and joy ripped through him with such sharpness that it actually brought tears to his eyes.
Kiara met his gaze and the smile on her face slammed into him. "Hi."
"Hi." He made his way over to her, wishing he could run. Uncertain, he reached out to pull the blanket back so that he could stare at the smallest being he'd ever seen.
His son.
Nykyrian couldn't believe it. After all the lives he'd taken . . .
He didn't deserve this. That baby was too perfect and too beautiful to have come from something like him. His hand shook as the baby made a gurgling sound.
Kiara watched Nykyrian closely, wondering what thoughts were in his head. "Meet your son, Nykyrian." She held him out toward him.
Nykyrian stepped back as if afraid. "I don't think I should."
She arched a brow until she realized something. "You've never been around a baby, have you?"
He shook his head. "I didn't know they were that small."
She laughed. "He won't be for long." Reaching out, she pulled him toward her. "You won't hurt him."
Nykyrian swallowed as she put the baby in his arms. It was the most surreal moment of his life. He was a father . . .
While he'd grown used to the title with Thia, it wasn't quite the same as looking down at this tiny infant, and it made him ache that he hadn't been there when his daughter had been born.
He'd missed her entire childhood and he hated that fact. But he would never miss a second of Adron's. He met Kiara's gaze. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For giving me a life worth living. I know I'm not worth it, and that I don't deserve it, but I swear to the gods I finally believe in that I will spend every moment I have left making you happy and trying to be worthy of you."
Kiara's eyes filled with tears. "Nykyrian, you are worth everything to me. And you always will be."
And when she pulled his lips to hers and kissed him, for the first time in his life, he truly understood love. It wasn't just an intangible emotion, it was when his own happiness was found by making her happy. It wasn't something found in a grandiose gesture. It was found in the simplest form.
A single smile that made a cold-blooded assassin weak in the knees.
Read on for an excerpt from Sherrilyn Kenyon's next book
BORN OF FIRE
Coming soon from St. Martin's Paperbacks
"Don't move," a smooth, lilting feminine voice ordered.
Syn arched one brow. It wasn't every day someone got the drop on him, especially a woman who had a voice that leant itself to seduction.
"Or what?" He wished he could catch a glimpse of whomever had outsmarted him. She had to be something, because this never happened to him.
She clicked off the safety release of her blaster.
Syn wasn't prone to panic, and having people level a weapon at him was pretty commonplace, but he didn't usually face unseen attackers.
Especially not in his home.
"Are you an assassin or tracer?" he asked.
"Free-tracer."
Free-tracers, unlike assassins, had a conscience, as a rule. And since he was still breathing and not dead, it told him she was going after his living contract which gave him a lot of latitude in dealing with her.
"Good." He snatched her blaster from her hands.
A blast of red sizzled up toward his ceiling, searing a long black streak across the white paint. He cursed at the mark. He'd fought too long and too hard to drag himself out of the streets and have a nice home for someone to come in and start destroying it.
"No one messes up my place." He grabbed a small, silken wrist and jerked the woman into his view. Shock jolted him as he stared into the face of a startled angel. Damn, she was beautiful.
In that instant of hesitation, she drove her knee straight into his groin.
Pure agony spread through him. Gasping, he doubled over with a sharp curse.
Shahara pulled the reserve blaster from her boot and leveled it at C.I. Syn: Rapist, Murderer, Traitor, and Filch. He was huge and powerful. She'd have to watch him closely if she were to succeed. Keeping her eyes on him, she bent her knees to retrieve the other two blasters from the floor.
The man in front of her was not the usual type she was used to dealing with. Not only was he more refined, but something proud and primal emanated from every molecule of his body. Only one word could define it.
Sexy.
And she was far from immune to it.
Unlike the other class three and four felons she'd traced, this one possessed an air of sophistication. When he spoke, it wasn't in a gruff ignorant street dialect, it was with a fluid, baritone voice that resonated deep from within him. His cadence and syntax were that of an educated man or an aristocrat, not a lowly filch.
With a deep breath, he recovered himself from her kick--something she'd never seen a man do so quickly before. He moved away from her with the lithe powerful grace of a predator.
Granted, he was still limping, but there was an unmistakable fluidity.
That was it. That was what she sensed from him. He had a raw animal magnetism. He moved like a caged panther--sleek, rippling, deadly.
Vicious.
And he moved like lightning. Before she realized what was happening, he had her completely unarmed. She kicked him back. He spun and shoved her into the wall.
Shahara used the rebound to propel herself at him and caught him a stiff blow to his jaw. Grunting, he grabbed her. She flipped up and kicked him back.
Syn cursed at her skill. She was incredible when it came to fighting. And every time he tried to pin her, she escaped. He hissed as she caught him another blow to the gut.
Kill her!
But he had a bad suspicion about her identity and if she was whom he thought . . .
Better to have her beat on him than the alternative. Out of her sleeves, two knives appeared. She moved at him, slashing. He put his arm up to block her attack. Their forearms collided, then she swiped his arm with the blade. It sliced straight through his flesh.
"Son of a . . ."
She stomped his foot. "Surrender, convict. I don't have to take you in alive."
He glared down at her as he tried to pin her again and failed. "Then you better get ready to kill me, 'cause that's the only way I'm going in."
Shahara head-butted him, then scissor-kicked his chest. In a fluid roll, she scooped her blaster up from the floor and angled it at him.
He finally froze.
"Cute attack," she sneered, waving him back into the bedroom with the barrel of her weapon. This time she knew to keep a good distance between them.
His eyes blazing obsidian fire, he obeyed in a manner that told her he didn't often cooperate with orders.
No, she could tell by the arrogant, taunting smile that this man was a leader or a loner.
Never a follower.
"Not half as cute as yours." He rubbed his groin meaningfully.
She shrugged at his sarcasm. "He who waits, loses."
The fierce scowl Syn gave her told her he didn't like the old Gondarion proverb at all.
Disregarding the look, she tossed him a pair of cuffs. They landed at his booted feet with a soft jingle. "Put those on quick or I'll blast you straight to hell."
He picked the cuffs up in his fist as if they disgusted him. His black gaze hardened and she swore she could actually smell the danger that radiated from every pore of his body.
She tensed her finger over the trigger, expecting him to toss the cuffs in her face. It wouldn't be the first time a convict had reacted that way and she had a few more tricks to unleash if he chose that action.
A loud whistle blared in the room behind her. Startled, she snapped around to make sure someone wasn't coming in to help him. Before she could focus on what the noise was
How had he moved that fast? He should still be on the other side of the room.
Her heart racing, she struggled for her weapon, kicking and punching at him with all the fury coursing through her body. If he got her blaster away, he'd kill her for sure.
His grip tightened around her hand, numbing her fingers until she could barely feel the roughened grip of her blaster. She tried to head-butt him, but he moved too fast.
To her horror, the blaster dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.
Cursing, she reverted to her strict training and punched at his throat.
Syn caught her hand in his before she could make contact with his windpipe. Wrenching her arm painfully behind her back, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.
Shahara cursed as she struggled. In spite of her best efforts and blows, he knelt down, retrieved the blasters from the floor, then tossed her on his bed.
The soft, lump-free mattress startled her for the briefest moment before true panic consumed her. He stood a few feet away from the bed, gazing down at her with dark, lust-filled eyes.
Her vision dimmed. Snarling, she dove for him with only one goal--to escape with her life and body intact.
Syn switched his blaster setting from kill to stun and shot her in the shoulder before she could reach him.
A soft gasp left her lips. Her eyes widened as she clutched at her shoulder, then she crumpled to the floor.
A twinge of guilt annoyed him. He'd been stunned enough times to know she'd have a vicious headache when she woke up.
But what other choice did he have? She seemed to be a determined little cozu.
Shaking his head in bitter amusement, he knelt beside her to check her pulse. Satisfied he hadn't hurt her, he took a good look at her peaceful features. Damned if she wasn't the most attractive woman he'd ever thrown onto his bed.
The Future Is Coming.
THE LEAGUE IS HERE
Surrender to a brave new world of trained assassins and lethal lovers, when danger rules the night, passions are on fire, and those who dare to defy The League walk on thin ice. . .
Read all of The League novels by #1 bestselling author
SHERRILYN KENYON
BORN OF NIGHT
ISBN: 978-0-312-94230-4
BORN OF FIRE
ISBN: 978-0-312-94231-1
AVAILABLE NOVEMBER 2009
BORN OF ICE
ISBN: 978-0-312-94232-8
AVAILABLE DECEMBER 2009
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Fang Kattalakis isn't just a wolf. He is the brother of two of the most powerful members of the Omegrion: the ruling council that enforces the laws of the Were-Hunters. When war erupts among the lycanthropes, sides must be chosen and enemies must become allies. But when the woman Fang loves is accused of betrayal, he must break the law of his people to save her.
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They are Darkness. They are Shadows.
They are the Rulers of the Night.
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Fantasy Lover
Night Pleasures
Night Embrace
Dance with the Devil
Kiss of the Night
Night Play
Seize the Night
Sins of the Night
Dark Side of the Moon
Devil May Cry
The Dream-Hunter
Upon the Midnight Clear
Dream Chaser
One Silent Night
Acheron
Dream Warrior
Bad Moon Rising
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THE DARK-HUNTERS
VOLUME 1
Story by Sherrilyn Kenyon
Art by Claudia Campos
ISBN: 978-0-312-37687-1
The first graphic novel in the New York Times bestselling world of The Dark-Hunters, illustrated in the traditional Japanese manga format. . .
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Born of NightCover
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Author's Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Sherrilyn Kenyon, Born of Night
(Series: The League # 1)