Kissing Flames (Kissing Monsters 6)

By Lynn Robin

“If I lose myself to Lady Scarlet,” Kiss repeats, pressing a finger to his mouth, “then I count on you to find me.” She leans closer, her whisper close to a breath. “To bring me back to you.”
His lips part slightly, his exhale brushing her skin.
“Will you promise me, Zane?”
His fingers wrap around her wrist and his lips move against her fingertip, almost like a kiss—but not quite.
“I promise,” he rasps.

Separated by dark forces once more, Kiss and Zane split ways—Kiss sets out to find the Gifted One known as the Healer in order to save the dying angels, while Zane risks his life to look for Skylar and August, hoping he can convince Skylar to control her Nightmares, as well as finding and saving August from Lock’s trap.

As Kiss fights both Nightmares and Lady Scarlet, she soon starts to doubt whether it’s a fight she can win without losing herself forever—but Zane has promised to save her when that day comes.
And it’s a promise he will never break, no matter the stakes.

But soon forgotten powers from the past appear to play a greater role than anyone could have anticipated—even the angels—forged from fire and still burning bright.

Love isn’t the only thing that burns like flames.
So does the past; so does the need to survive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lynn Robin
• Release date: Jan 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005503338

Lynn Robin

Lynn Robin (1992) is an author of Paranormal Romance novels.Born and raised in the historical city of Leiden in the Netherlands, she has felt the urge to write stories ever since she was little— preferably ones with ghosts and other spooky things (probably because her parents let her watch Stephen King film adaptions when she was nine).Next to that, she likes to add a healthy dose of romance to her books; star-crossed lovers and forbidden romances, preferably about monsters hiding in the bodies of young men, and girls blessed with angelic powers—or at least humans touched by magical abilities.She made her debut in 2017 with her Dutch series entitled the Schimmenwereld Serie (the Phantom World series), containing six books about ghosts, angels, demons, music, dance, art, and—of course—love. She won the Best Book of 2018 award with the fourth installment, Schimmendroom (Phantom Dream), chosen by the jury of The Dutch Indie Awards.In 2020 she debuted internationally in English with the highly romantic Kissing Monsters series which concluded with 8 volumes in 2021. Her latest release is The Sea of Her, a still ongoing paranormal romance series in a tropical setting about the Weeper of Pearls, a Wild Stranger from the Sea and a long-lost King of the Ocean.Besides being passionate about writing, she’s also a rather dedicated running/fitness/yoga/martial arts enthusiast, and likes to spend time with her family, play videogames, or freak herself out watching documentaries about haunted houses (for research, she claims).

Book preview

KISSING FLAMES

Kissing Monsters — Book Six

Lynn Robin

KISSING FLAMES

Kissing Monsters — Book Six

Copyright (c) 2021 Lynnette Robin Slijkhuis

Cover and interior design: (c) 2021 Kimberly Jolanda

ISBN: 9781005503338

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the author.

www.lynnrobin.com

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Table of Contents

Kissing Flames

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilogue

Coming Soon

Kissing Secrets

About Lynn Robin

Connect with Lynn Robin

Books by Lynn Robin

PROLOGUE

devil’s kiss

He slips in through the window without a noise.

Voiceless like a dream.

Evanescent like a nightmare. Yet so very real.

Though soundless, his feet truly touch the bedroom floor as he makes his way inside, growing smaller as he does to make sure he will fit, shifting out of the shape of a large, horned beast with membrane wings that leave a trail of purple smoke.

He enters the room looking like a young man—harsh features, powerful cheekbones, cobalt eyes contrasting heavily with his pale blond hair and equally pale skin, a set of expressive lips that now quirk up into a grimly amused smile as he examines the dark room.

There.

This is exactly what he’s been looking for:

Two humans occupy the bed. A young man and a young woman, entangled beneath the sheets to keep their naked skin warm. Their breaths are deep. Their faces soft and peaceful.

Vulnerable. Not just physically—no, mentally as well.

He moves closer, his gaze trailing the woman’s long locks of hair. He doesn’t need to touch them to know their silky feel between his fingers.

After all, he has run his hands through similar locks of hair.

In another life.

In a life when he was a monster called Lock. In a life when he pretended to be human and told a red-haired, midnight-skinned girl that his name was Julian.

Julian Lock.

Leaning over the woman, he briefly glances at the man as he stirs in his sleep, half-expecting him to wake up. Not that it would matter; the man wouldn’t be able to see him. No human can. To them he is like a dream—an invisible thing that slips from your grasp with the ease of water… and like a nightmare, he’ll cling to your skin and mind for several hours or even days after.

The man doesn’t wake.

Wings slowly unfurl from his shoulder blades as he directs his attention back to the woman, breathing out a puff of purple smoke that swirls down and around her head before evaporating.

He leans closer. Inhales deeply through his nose.

The purple smoke reappears as if pulled out of the woman’s head. He opens his mouth. Swallows it.

And finds himself in her aimlessly wandering, unconscious mind.

The setting is vague, as he finds it always is in dreams. A blur of colors and impressions and movement. But in the midst of all that, in the heart of the dream, there is always the center of attention.

Right now, it is the table the young woman is sitting at, the café a blur around her. Voices buzz around him, empty conversations.

The woman stares at him as he steps up to her table.

And for a moment…— Just for a moment, he suddenly wonders whether this girl knows; whether she’s aware that she is dreaming. And that he is not supposed to be here, after having wormed his way into her mind. A trespasser. An intruder.

But she doesn’t say a word. He slowly sits down opposite her.

I… I was waiting for someone, she protests faintly.

Yes, he says, leaning closer to her over the table. For me.

Her lips part and her eyes roam over his face, taking in his features. Her gaze takes on a glassy shine and then a smile curls her lips. Perhaps I was, she murmurs, her voice low. Seductive. Dark, like the waves of hair falling over her shoulders.

You have always been waiting for me, he murmurs back, trembling slightly with the power he can feel building up inside him; because dreams, well, they are his ultimate playground.

He is the architect of the unconscious mind.

The puppeteer of nightmares.

Dark satisfaction swells in his chest as he watches her posture soften and her gaze grow more intense, her hand lifting as she starts to reach for him with a hunger he knows she can’t explain to herself.

But here, in the world of dreams, she doesn’t care.

She doesn’t even wonder.

Doesn’t even blink when, the moment her fingertips graze his arm, the café shifts out of existence and she finds herself stumbling forward in the shadows of a rainy alley at night. He catches her against him, her weight both solid and feather-light, changing constantly.

Breathless, she tilts her head up to look at him. Though not breathless with surprise or confusion.

No. With wanting.

Rain pours down around them and though both of them imagine the wetness, he knows neither is truly feeling it. He focuses on her eyes, making sure he’s keeping her attention so her mind can’t wander down another corridor of her unconsciousness, and takes her chin between his fingers.

She shivers, and he knows she’s also experiencing it in the real world, in her bed, in the arms of her lover, her body shuddering with anticipation.

Kiss me, she whispers—and he knows she’s actually whispering it out loud too, breathing into her pillow.

He crushes his lips to hers. He pushes her back until she hits a wall. Her hands roam over his shoulder blades, tugging at his clothes, squirming against him as he deepens the kiss. She moans into his mouth as he gathers her closer and slides his hands down the back of her legs before lifting her up effortlessly. She wraps her legs around his waist and buries her hands in his hair. Lost in him.

With a mere thought he takes control again—and once more, the surroundings shift, with the inexplicable suddenness only known to dreams.

Her back is no longer pressed to a wall, but to bars instead. The steel bars of a cage.

Almost like a giant birdcage.

A mere thought makes his muscles ripple and his membrane wings burst from his shoulder blades. Her hands grow still on his back. She breaks the kiss and leans away, her eyes wide.

What…? she breathes out.

You have been waiting for me, he murmurs, haven’t you… darling?

He allows his other shape to leak through his human one and senses his eyes sinking back into pitch-black holes, razor teeth slipping out from under his upper lip, his nails growing into talons that dig into her flesh.

Terror flashes across her face.

No, she says, NO, she screams, No, no— she whimpers when he pulls her back into a kiss again, ignoring her struggles.

If you wish to kiss a devil, he whispers into her ear, a devil’s kiss is what you’ll get… my darling.

Her screams start out faint—but grow deafening the instant he’s thrown out of her mind, finding himself back in the bedroom, the open window behind him, the bed in front of him, and the woman screaming and sobbing, tearing herself out of her boyfriend’s arms. Her eyes are wide open, but she gazes straight past him.

Unaware of his closeness.

What is happening? Sweetheart—hey, says her boyfriend, sitting upright now and pulling her to him. She sags back in his arms, breathing hard, her hand trembling as she presses it to her mouth. Her boyfriend whispers softly to her, brushing her hair from her forehead.

It—It was a nightmare, she manages at last.

What was it about?

She hesitates. A monster, she says finally. It… was suddenly there. It scared me. It was so real, she whispers as her boyfriend hugs her closer, kissing her cheek.

But it’s only a fragment of the truth. She leaves out the part of letting herself be seduced by this monster; by falling into his arms so willingly.

Would her lover still kiss and hold her like this if he knew she’d betray him so easily? Because dreams, well… they hold the truest secrets, after all.

His smirk grows as he watches the woman some more. She’s still trembling, still pale, her eyes still alive with fear. She’ll be unsettled for a while longer.

Surely, there are more important things for him to do these days. Tasks that await him. Plans that need to be followed through. Especially after all that happened last night: he made a pact with a powerful, blue-haired girl; he took the Wandering Artist hostage, and with the latter allowing him to lay claim to any kind of weapon the Gifted One can create for him in his war against the angels and his revenge on a certain red-haired girl.

Yes, there are far better ways to spend his valuable time.

But you see, he’s still getting to know his new powers… while his old self still longs to control—to be a master over others, to be a cage that can trap the weaker souls.

Julian Lock turns his back to the woman, satisfaction still sizzling in his veins, grabs the windowsill and heaves himself up. He pauses, taking in the cityscape before him, still quiet with slumbering humans. But not for long. The world will wake up soon; dawn is breaking across the horizon, rays of sunlight bravely reaching out to brighten the sky.

And yet, heaven is a dark place hovering above the roofs. Starless.

Angeless, if that were a word.

Pushing away from the windowsill, his wings burst from his back as his body shifts and reshapes itself into that of a bull-like creature, looking large and heavy, though it’s weightless as he glides along with the wind, held adrift by a pair of great wings.

It is time to go back to the forest where Skylar and his brethren await him.

And the Wandering Artist.

For there is a