скачать книгу бесплатно
Burning Dawn
Gena Showalter
Showalter's signature blend of sizzling attraction, breathtaking worlds, and lethal stakes rocks me every time! - Sylvia DayAn Angel Renowed For Ruthlessness and the Woman Who Became His Obsession A tormented past has left Thane with an insatiable need for violence, making him the most dangerous assassin in the skies. He lives by a single code: no mercy. And as he unleashes his fury on his most recent captor, he learns no battle could have prepared him for the slave he rescues from his enemy’s clutches—a beauty who stokes the fires of his darkest desires.Elin Vale has her own deep-rooted scars, and her attraction to the exquisite warrior who freed her challenges her every boundary. But Thane’s unwavering determination to protect her means she must face her greatest fears—and enter a world in which passion is power, and victory means breathtaking surrender.
New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter returns with a sizzling Angels of the Dark tale about a winged warrior renowned for his ruthlessness, and the woman who becomes his obsession….
A tormented past has left Thane with an insatiable need for violence, making him the most dangerous assassin in the skies. He lives by a single code: no mercy. And as he unleashes his fury on his most recent captor, he learns no battle could have prepared him for the slave he rescues from his enemy’s clutches—a beauty who stokes the fires of his darkest desires.
Elin Vale has her own deep-rooted scars, and her attraction to the exquisite warrior who freed her challenges her every boundary. But Thane’s unwavering determination to protect her means she must face her greatest fears—and enter a world in which passion is power, and victory means breathtaking surrender.
Praise forNew York TimesandUSA Today bestselling author
GENA SHOWALTER
‘Showalter’s signature blend of sizzling attraction, breathtaking worlds and lethal stakes rocks me every time!’
—Sylvia Day
‘Another sizzling page-turner … Gena Showalter delivers an utterly spell-binding story!’
—Kresley Cole
‘One of Showalter’s biggest strengths is her ability to create wounded characters who are riveting and intense, but who also hold out the hope of redemption.’
—RT Book Reviews on Beauty Awakened
‘Showalter does her magic with an intricately developed world, complex and intensive character arcs and dark, compelling paranormal themes. She releases that literary punch to the gut with excruciatingly detailed scenes that haunt the senses long after reading the pages.’
—USA TODAY on Wicked Nights
‘Gena Showalter knows how to keep readers glued to the pages and smiling the whole time.’
—Lara Adrian, New York Times bestselling author
Also available from
GENA SHOWALTER
Angels of the Dark series WICKED NIGHTS BEAUTY AWAKENED
Lords of the Underworld series THE DARKEST NIGHT THE DARKEST KISS THE DARKEST PLEASURE THE DARKEST WHISPER DARK BEGINNINGS THE DARKEST PASSION THE DARKEST LIE THE DARKEST SECRET THE DARKEST SURRENDER THE DARKEST SEDUCTION THE DARKEST CRAVING
Atlantis HEART OF THE DRAGON JEWEL OF ATLANTIS THE NYMPH KING THE VAMPIRE’S BRIDE
GENA SHOWALTER is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of the White Rabbit Chronicles, Other-world Assassins, Angels of the Dark and Lords of the Underworld series. She has written over forty novels and novellas. Her books have appeared in Cosmopolitan and Seventeen magazines and have been translated into multiple languages.
To learn more about Gena and her books, please visit www.genashowalter.com (http://www.genashowalter.com) and www.genashowalterblogspot.com (http://www.genashowalterblogspot.com).
Burning Dawn
Gena
Showalter
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
To Jill Monroe. You’re pretty freaking amazing. You deserve only the best—which is why I hang around you so much. (Yes, I somehow managed to make your awesomeness all about me. I’m THAT good.)
To Emily Ohanjanians. You always go above and beyond the call of duty and I’ll be forever grateful.
To Kathleen Oudit, Tara Scarcello, Glenn Mackay and Alan Davey. You guys gave me the cover of my dreams—my sweet, sexy dreams. Thank you!
To Donna Hayes, Loriana Sacilotto, Craig Swinwood, Brent Lewis, Christina Clifford, Stacy Widdrington, Diana Wong, Ana Luxton, Amy Jones, Melissa Anthony, Erin Craig, Michelle Renaud, Margaret Marbury, Susan Swinwood, Natashya Wilson, Emily Martin, Don Lucey, Lisa Wray, Aideen O’Leary-Chung, Larissa Walker, Arista Guptar, Reka Rubin, Jayne Hoogenberk, Kate Studer and Chris Makimoto (and Emily O, of course—you get it twice!). You guys are an awesome team and I’m blessed to have you in my corner!
To Deidre Knight and Jia Gayles. I think Hard Work and Dedication are your middle names. Thank you!
CONTENTS
Chapter One (#uaa2af566-360a-53e8-8d29-184ebf5c96cf)
Chapter Two (#u5cf45298-82bf-5fbe-b282-dc3fbe312731)
Chapter Three (#uadbb1c23-6e90-536f-8a46-44afa30c5d25)
Chapter Four (#ub3379130-3533-53f1-8d62-eb27715c48df)
Chapter Five (#uee9e871f-04bb-5732-bb7d-f46062b45e3e)
Chapter Six (#u1e5026d2-e994-5b2d-81cd-d3f6666bfa7a)
Chapter Seven (#uc90a0633-9204-50e2-81e4-f6a6ebd1c36f)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
HE LIVED SEX. Breathed sex. Ate sex.
He was sex.
Maybe that was his name.
No. That wasn’t what she called him. She—his heart. His reason for being.
She would straddle his waist, feed his aching length into her hungry body, and say, “My slave needs me more than air to breathe, doesn’t he?”
My Slave. Yes. That was his name.
My Slave wanted his woman. Craved her like water to drink.
Must have her.
Only she would do. He couldn’t live without her smoke-and-dreams scent...mmm, or her too-close-to-the-sun heat...or her fiery claws. How deeply those little daggers cut into his bare chest. And her peekaboo fangs...how deliciously they nipped at the vein in his neck.
She was perfect, and only when she was with him, her strong body taking and receiving pleasure, was the gnawing hunger within him finally satisfied.
Must. Have. Her. NOW.
But...he looked around. She wasn’t with him. He tried to rise from the bed. Something bound his wrists and ankles again. Not rope. Not this time. Too cold, too hard. Steel? He didn’t care enough to look.
Problem. Solution. My Slave gritted his teeth and jerked with all his considerable might. Skin tore, muscle ripped, and bone snapped. Pain. Freedom. He grinned. His woman was out there. Soon he would find her. He would thrust inside her and slake his need for her. Again and again and again...
Nothing and no one would stop him.
* * *
“HE’S LOOSE AGAIN,” someone grumbled.
At the pond washing clothes and dreaming of salted caramel cupcakes...and frosted brownies...and, oh, oh, oh, peanut butter cookies, Elin Vale lumbered from the over-warm water. Brittle grass covered the small bank provided by the gorgeous desert oasis of Sahel, abrading her bare feet. As the sun glared from the clear morning sky, golden sand dunes undulated on every side; she sought shade under one of the handful of trees. A gentle breeze carried more grit than she was ever able to wash away.
At least there was a silver lining. A free daily body scrub meant her sunburned, freckled skin always glowed.
Yay me.
Now, if only she could accomplish her life goals so easily. 1) Escape the Phoenix warriors holding her captive, 2) make big bank, and 3) open a bakery. She would sell desserts good enough to induce orgasm...except peanut butter cookies because she would single-handedly consume the entire stock.
Life would be over-the-moon crazmazing. She would be doing what she loved and eating what she craved. Except, for one wee problem—she hadn’t yet managed to cross number one off her list. Phoenix were immortals with the ability to flame to ash and rise from the dead, stronger than ever before. They were vicious. And, ironically enough, they were cold-blooded. They enjoyed pillaging and plundering, and killed for grins and giggs.
Elin had seen the worst of their handiwork up close and all too personal, and even now, a year later, the memories were formidable enough to break her down. Memories she couldn’t stop...please, please stop...but there they were, flashing through her mind. Her father’s head rolling across the floor—without his body. Bay’s pain-filled moan echoing in her ears as he sagged to the floor, a sword sticking out of his chest. Silence descending. Such dreaded silence.
Even now her heart rate went full throttle, with enough horsepower to break records. Going to vomit.
“Catch him!”
The frantic shout was a welcome and wonderful distraction, the only life raft in a sea of horror, halting the oncoming breakdown.
Her gaze scanned—there.
Oh, blimey. He’s magnificent.
Because of Elin’s supposedly disrespectful mouth—some people couldn’t tolerate the truth—she had spent the past two weeks stuffed inside a small, dank hole, unable to see the new prisoner “worth toppling an entire empire to possess.”
The quote had come from every female in the village.
For the first time, Elin had to agree with her captors. The princess’s immortal slave was a god among men.
He stomped through the sand, flinging expert soldiers out of his way as if they were stuffed animals. He did this despite the fact that his wrists and ankles looked like raw hamburger meat.
His scowl was dark, frightening, and despite her fascination, she instinctively lowered her gaze.
Oh, wowzer. Hello, massive erection. The beast was in no way concealed by the leather loincloth the slave wore.
