Summoned to the Wilds (Villains & Virtues, #2)

by A.K. Caggiano

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, fighting off a smile. “You are my captive, after all. No one’s touching you but me.”

words were meant to make women dangerous—that was, in fact, one of the best things they did.

“Amma, the only thing that is clear is that I prefer your company, even when you are infuriating, to an entire cave full of vampires. I’d like nothing more than to be with you, but not when you’ve had to coerce yourself into it by way of magic. I do want you, but not like this.”

In just a moon, your painfully sweet voice has challenged all of my darkest thoughts, your wildly inaccurate yet optimistic outlook has clouded my sight, and your incessant kindness to me—to someone who deserves not a drop of your patience and affection and good will—has undone twenty-seven years of training to be evil. For darkness’s sake, woman, you’ve made me good, and believe when I say that it feels like falling interminably through the Abyss every moment I am not burying my cock in you, but I could not bear it if you woke tomorrow and thought I had hurt you.”

“I would just gladly be swallowed by endless darkness upon endless darkness if it meant not hurting you because I have never cared so deeply for another being. I cannot explain or understand how you have broken me in this way, but you have made me feel…things that are maddening.”

“Well, they’re probably not right. I’d reckon you’ve seen some evil magics do at least a little good—I know I have. And it’s not like the arcana knows what it’s doing, just that it wants to do. It’s mostly neutral.”

“That’s my girl,” Damien murmured, satisfaction running like arcana through his veins as he closed his fist around his magic again. After seeing how steady Amma held the weapon, he’d kill every last person in the whole of The Wilds just for a brief moment alone with her.

“Hemlock pine tea, like Laurel taught me to make.” “Is this what you’ve been up to? Perfecting the recipe?” “Um, no, that’s just hot needle juice.”

King Wil was taller than even Damien, and though he was thin, his presence was menacing. That was how fae were: ethereal, delicate-looking things until their intentions came to the surface, followed swiftly by their true visage.

Feelings, being inherently frustrating and messy, are also often vindictive. It is one of their worst traits, which is really something that shouldn’t be thought on for too long—feelings having feelings—but just quietly accepted as the truth of things. After being denied and bottled up and misconstrued, feelings too have a limit, and if they find they cannot be expressed in their natural, honest states, they will resort to putting on the cloaks of other feelings, adopting new accents and a little makeup, and when they are finally convincing enough, roar out into the world disguised as something completely different.

Amma was in his arms, she was safe, she was kissing him, and he was complete.

“You came for me,” she whispered up against his mouth. His fingertips grazed her temple, smoothing away hair that had fallen in her face, and he pressed another kiss to her lips. “You called. How could I not?”