Graveyard Watchman (Book 1)

Chapter 45

Instantly my other senses kick in and it feels as if my body is being lifted and pulled into a horizontal position...almost like I'm flying.

Holy hell...

Out of nowhere, gusts of wind swirl around me and I hear what sounds like large wings flapping in mid-air, and they're thrusting us slightly up and down with each stroke.

Oh. My. God. This can't be happening.

Suddenly, my gut is hit with a blast of nausea and I try like hell to will the vile from creeping up my throat.

No, no, no...You're okay, Kate. You—are—okay.

I tell myself over and over, concentrating on every word as I try to divert the overwhelming thought of hurling all over myself.

You—are—okay...yes, get in a rhythm...you—are—okay...

I can feel it starting to help but I barely have time to allow the relief to wash over me when a hard thud to the ground pushes my body forward. I instantly feel the Watchman's arms slip a little tighter around my waste, keeping me securely pressed up against him until we're steady and in one place. He's warm, almost too warm and his scent is suddenly intoxicating. Maybe because I no longer feel like I'm going to vomit and am now standing on the ground with my feet. Clearly, we've landed. At least I freaking hope we have.

"Kate." he says a few seconds later--his deep, rich voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

Opening my eyes I look up and gaze into his warm, brownish-yellow eyes and for the first time since I laid eyes on him five months ago, I'm no longer afraid. He's looking back at me with the same intense stare but it's softer somehow. Without thought, I reach up and cup the right side of his face as he closes his eyes. His unshaven skin feels amazing against my palm and that's when it hits me. I want him. More than I've ever wanted anything in my entire life.

"Kate." he says again. "Are you able to stand on your own?"

I don't think I could answer right now if my life depended on it. Our eyes are still locked and I don't want to let go. And I sure as hell don't want him to either. Words have escaped me as I stand, frozen in his embrace, hoping this moment never ends.

"We must talk." he says before gently taking my arms and guiding me to a seat. Or, I should say, a flat-ish, cold rock.

Wait, where are we?

Darting my eyes around the room, I instantly recognize it. We're back at the cave. The cold, damp, under-lit, wonderful cave.

He walks away, pulling his hood down from his head as his black hair spills around his face, then turns back to me. "Forgive me, I--I do not know how this has happened." he says, looking away.

I'm so mesmerized by his sheer masculine beauty I can barely breathe but his choice of words somehow jar me out of my trance, or whatever this is. "What do you mean? How what's happened?" I ask, genuinely confused.

He turns his gaze back to me and takes in a deep breath, as if preparing me for the worst.

"I am afraid I have marked you."