Sneak Peek - The Dark Shadows Rise

The Heat Between Us

The air in Ronan’s estate was thick with tension, the kind that coiled around Elara’s skin like an electric current. The scent of aged wood, candle wax, and something darker—something uniquely him—filled the grand space.

Shadows flickered against the walls from the soft glow of lanterns, casting long, seductive shapes that seemed to pulse in time with the rapid beat of her heart.

She should have left the moment she stepped through the heavy iron doors. Should have ignored the way his presence set every nerve in her body on fire. She should have reminded herself that whatever this thing was between them was dangerous.

But she hadn’t.

Because resisting Ronan Duvall was impossible.

He was standing near the stone fireplace now, his tall frame bathed in the dim golden light. His sharp jawline, the cut of his cheekbones, the way his dark shirt clung to his torso—every inch of him was built to tempt, to destroy the fragile resolve she’d been clinging to.

His piercing gaze locked onto hers, filled with the same hunger she felt clawing at her insides.

“Elara.” His voice was a rough whisper, gravel, and sin.

Her breath hitched.

She had spent weeks fighting this. Nights spent lying awake, trying to banish the memories of his touch, the way his hands had gripped her like she was his. But it had been useless. He was in her now, a part of her in ways she wasn’t sure she would ever untangle.

And God help her; she didn’t want to untangle it.

She took a step toward him. Then another.

Ronan didn’t move—just stood there, watching her with that predator’s patience, like he was waiting for her to make the choice. To take what they both knew was inevitable.

“Elara,” he said again, softer this time but no less possessive.

She closed the distance between them. Her pulse pounded against her ribs as she placed a hand against his chest, feeling the steady, impossible rhythm beneath his skin. Cool, strong. Undeniable.

His fingers curled around her waist, slow and deliberate, drawing her closer. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured against her temple, his breath hot as it ghosted down the side of her neck. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

She didn’t.

Couldn’t.

Instead, she tilted her head back, her lips parting on a ragged inhale as he leaned down, his mouth mere inches from hers.

“Ronan…”

That was all it took.

He kissed her like he was claiming her soul. Hard, deep, consuming. Her body melted into his as his arms wrapped around her, anchoring her against the unrelenting strength of him. She gasped as he lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. The moment his hands cupped her ass and pressed her firmly against him, a low, desperate moan escaped her lips.

“You feel this?” he rasped against her mouth, rolling his hips into hers, letting her feel exactly what she did to him. “Tell me this doesn’t belong to you.”

She didn’t answer. Didn’t have to.

Her nails scraped down the back of his neck, a silent plea, a demand for more. And he gave it to her.

Ronan carried her through the room like she weighed nothing, his lips never leaving hers as he pressed her against the cold stone wall. The contrast of heat and ice sent a shiver down her spine, but it was nothing compared to the fire raging between them.

He tore at the buttons of her dress, his hands urgent but controlled, like he was unraveling a carefully wrapped present. The moment the fabric slid down her shoulders, baring her to him, a growl rumbled deep in his chest.

“Fucking beautiful,” he muttered, his mouth trailing along the delicate curve of her collarbone. His hands roamed over her, fingers tracing every dip, every hollow, every inch of skin that belonged to him now.

Elara arched against him, her body aching, demanding.

“Ronan—”

“I know, mon amour.” His voice was dark, reverent.

His mouth found the peak of her breast, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud before he sucked it deep into his mouth. Her head fell back against the stone with a sharp gasp.

Pleasure curled low in her stomach, a slow, burning heat that coiled tighter with every brush of his lips, every teasing stroke of his fingers as they skimmed lower. He took his time, drawing her closer to the edge with a maddening slowness that had her trembling.

“Please,” she whispered, barely recognizing her own voice.

Ronan lifted his head, his silver eyes flashing with something raw, something dangerous. “Say it.”

“Take me.”

A growl tore from his throat. “Gladly.”

In one swift motion, he rid them of the last barriers between them, his cool skin a stark contrast to the fever burning inside her. The first stroke of his fingers between her thighs had her biting her lip, her hands gripping his biceps as he played her like he knew her body.

And then, when she was on the edge, desperate and writhing, he finally gave them what they both needed.

The moment he thrust into her, she shattered.

A blinding wave of pleasure crashed over her, stars bursting behind her eyelids as her body tightened around him. She clung to him, gasping, crying out as he moved inside her, slow at first, then harder, deeper, driving her higher with every thrust.

Their bond flared, pulsing in time with their bodies, raw energy crackling between them like a live wire. It wasn’t just sex. It was more. It was everything.

“Fuck, Elara,” Ronan groaned against her throat, his fingers digging into her hips as he drove into her again and again. “You’re mine. You know you are.”

Her climax hit like a violent storm.

A rush of heat, pleasure, and something other—something dark and electric—surged through her, stealing her breath. She screamed his name as the world around her seemed to bend, the air warping, twisting.

And then—

A vision.

Not hers. His.

A flash of pain. Blood. The sound of a woman screaming. The smell of smoke and loss.

Elara’s eyes flew open as the images crashed into her, drowning her in a past she had never known.

Then it was gone.

She was back in Ronan’s arms, their bodies still entangled, but the room felt different. Wrong.

Ronan went still, his grip on her tightening as his breath shuddered against her skin.

“Elara,” he rasped, his voice laced with something unfamiliar.

Fear.

She swallowed hard, her pulse still racing. “I saw something.”

His gaze snapped to hers, and she knew, without a doubt, that he had seen it too.

The vision had burned into her, a violent intrusion that didn’t belong. It was Ronan’s past—his pain, his loss—but she had felt it as if it were her own. The echoes of screams still rang in her ears, the scent of fire and blood lingering in her senses like a cruel trick.

Then, just as she opened her mouth to speak, a whisper curled through her mind—low, dark, seductive.

Don’t stop now. You want this. I want this. I need this.

Elara stiffened, her fingers digging into Ronan’s shoulders.

The voice was everywhere and nowhere, slithering through the crevices of her thoughts like smoke, curling around her senses like a lover’s caress. It didn’t belong to Ronan, yet it spoke as if it did—his tone, his desire, yet not quite him.

A chill skated down her spine.

Ronan’s body locked against hers, his grip tightening as his breath turned sharp and ragged. His silver eyes darkened, flashing with something primal. Not lust. Not hunger. But recognition.

He heard it, too.

The room seemed to pulse, shadows stretching unnaturally across the walls, flickering in time with the frantic beat of her heart. The lantern flames dimmed the air, thickening and pressing in. The bond between them, the raw energy that had always burned so hot, now simmered with something new—something tainted.

“Elara,” Ronan rasped, his voice edged with something foreign. A warning. A plea.

Elara swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze fully. “What the hell was that?”

His jaw clenched. “It’s inside us.”

Her stomach twisted. She didn’t need him to clarify. She could feel it—the weight of something watching, feeding, reveling in their connection. It had been there in the background, whispering at the edges of her mind, but now it had slipped closer, sinking its claws into their bond, latching on with an insatiable hunger.

A hunger that didn’t belong to them.

The realization sent ice through her veins.

She had always known their bond was powerful. Unpredictable. But never had she thought it could be a beacon for something else. Something waiting. Something using them.

Elara forced herself to take a steadying breath, even as her pulse rioted in her veins. “It wanted more,” she whispered, the words barely audible over the hammering of her heart.

Ronan’s fingers twitched against her waist, his expression unreadable, yet she could feel the same turmoil swirling inside him. “It wasn’t just watching,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “It was feeding.”

Her breath hitched.

The memory of the voice, of its slick, possessive need, slithered through her again, sending another shudder through her body.

Don’t stop now…

Elara’s nails pressed into Ronan’s skin as dread coiled in her gut.

Whatever this was—whatever had been waiting in the darkness, lingering at the edges of their bond—it was no longer just an observer. It had been invited in.

And worse?

They had let it in.

Her magic still crackled around them, the remnants of their passion lingering in the air like the static before a storm. Their connection had always been electric, a wildfire neither of them could fully control. But now, something else had latched onto it, curling around the raw energy they had unleashed, drinking it in like it had been starving for centuries.

Elara’s throat tightened as realization struck. “It feeds off us.”

Ronan’s entire body went rigid. “What?”

“When we…” She swallowed, heat and fear warring inside her. “When we connect like that, when our magic is at its peak, it’s strongest. Our power is strongest.” She dragged in a breath, dread settling deep. “That’s what it wants.”

Ronan’s grip on her hips tightened, his fingers pressing into her skin as if anchoring himself. “It doesn’t just want to break us.” His voice was rough, edged with something dark. “It wants it all.”

The thought sent a violent shiver through her.

It made sense. Their magic, their bond—it had always been something beyond them, something powerful enough to turn the tides of war. But now, that power had become more than just theirs.

Something else had claimed it.

And as she felt the lingering heat of Ronan’s breath against her throat, the slow, taunting echo of that whisper still circling the edges of her mind, she knew one terrifying truth.

Whatever this thing was, it was never going to be satisfied.

It was inside them now.

And it was hungry.