NocC 004 - The Ancients 03 - Bonnie Vanak - Hunted by the Jaguar - Harlequin 2011-12 by Nocturne

blood on this compound. He would die with the vow on his lips.
    Never. Her heart pounded hard. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she whispered. “A promise is a promise, but I love him. I will not let him die.”
    She did love him. His cheeky, cheerful grin, the way he snagged her attention and held it like a flame. His fierce protectiveness of her. His loyalty toward his friends.
    The man she sensed he could become, if only he would learn to forgive the past.
    “You do deserve my love,” Ariana silently told him.
    Standing in the glen, she watched Daimon’s struggles with Jarrett grow weaker. Jarrett’s teeth snapped again, this time drawing a thin line of crimson across Daimon’s neck.
    Ariana closed her eyes, folded her arms across her chest. Concentrated. She looked deep inside herself into the part of herself she never examined.
    The dark part of herself inherited from her demon father.
    The cruel strength she had never tapped. It now consumed and filled her.
    Stretching out her hands, she opened her eyes. With a loud screech, she released the demon magick and sent it hurling toward Jarrett and Daimon.
    The black mist blasted them apart like two strong hands. Each went hurling backward, rolling several yards.
    Next she directed the darkness to the sleeping jaguars. Sending it straight into their sleeping consciousness. The big cats sprang awake with several growls, shaking their heads. They turned and snarled at the wolves, now backing away with threatening growls.
    Ariana directed the demon magick upward, swirling higher and higher until it reached the treetops. With a cackle of laughter that sounded foreign to her own ears, she let it burn the treetops. Branches crackled and sizzled, and limbs began showering down on the melee.
    Wolves and jaguars alike shrank back from the burning ash, seeking refuge as they dug into the earth, or hid in the brush. The cries of wounded animals sang in her eardrums like sweet music.
    Two strong arms slid around her waist, lifted her. “Ariana, stop it, it’s okay, stop it, bring it back. Bring it back.”
    “Never.” It was part of her, part of her soul. Her soul was black and chortled at the havoc she created, the sheer chaos.
    Daimon released her, cupped her face and kissed her savagely. He kept kissing her, suctioning at her mouth as she struggled in his powerful grip. Kept kissing her until the swirling fury inside her dampened, replaced by sheer arousal.
    Drawn to her rising desire, the demon darkness slammed back into her. The white light twined with it, repressing the darkness until it threaded with her angelic side and became quiet. Ariana stopped struggling, slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back with all the passion inside her.
    A shudder raced through him. He released his hands, exploring her body, sliding his palms down her back. Pressing her harder against him as if wishing to meld fully with her body.
    Gradually she became aware of the quiet around them, the sweeping mist dousing the fire she’d created, and then a hesitant cough.
    “Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice said.
    Ariana opened her eyes and wrenched free, staring at the odd man with the green horns jutting out of his forehead.
    “I’m Anderson Stamos, director of the Society. If you two don’t mind, could you get a room. Please?”
     
    The battle was over. The body count was amazingly zero.
    Because of you, Anderson told Daimon as he surveyed the damaged woods, the wounded jaguars glaring at the wolves, swaying on all fours from the exertions of the battle. A light rain splattered the dead leaves at their feet, droplets rolling off Daimon’s naked shoulders to mingle with dried blood.
    “You refused to kill. You had the power to kill all the wolves, but did not. By holding them off with your magick, you saved them all.”
    “It was Ariana. She gave up that most dear to her, repression of her demon.” Daimon shook his head in wonder.
    Sitting against a thick fir trunk, his mate looked weary