Gravity

Also By Dannika Dark:

THE MAGERI SERIES

Sterling

Twist

Impulse

Gravity

NOVELLAS

Closer

GRAVITY

A Mageri Series Novel

All Rights Reserved

Copyright © 2013 Dannika Dark

No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any

means, or stored in a database retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

You must not circulate this book in any format. Thank you for respecting the rights of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is

purely coincidental.

Cover design by Dannika Dark. All stock purchased.

http://dannikadark.blogspot.com/

Fan page located on Facebook

Acknowledgments:

This book is for every reader who has taken the long journey with me down an uncertain path.

I have created this world, and you have brought it to life. Each turn of the page is a heartbeat,

keeping the story alive.

Sacrifice only means something when you’re willing to give up everything for a greater purpose.

—Twist, by Dannika Dark

Chapter 1

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” I said as Logan’s hands cradled the back of my head

and pushed it down.

“Hush, Little Raven. I’m an experienced male who knows what he’s doing. Stay still and you

won’t get hurt.”

“How long is it?”

He chuckled darkly. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that size doesn’t matter?”

My chin pressed tightly against my chest as I listened to the snip snip sounds from the scissors

behind me. Sadly, I’d been neglecting my hair over the course of the past year since my

transformation as a Mage. Christian, my guard, had accused me of growing a new breed of cat on

my head. He said if I didn’t do something about it, he was going to put it down. Justus would have

footed the bill for a hairdresser, but frivolous things had remained low on my priority list.

After I’d made a remark about it, Logan had taken my hand and led me into the bathroom. He

offered to cut it, and I thought he was kidding until he lifted a pair of scissors from the drawer.

The last lock of hair fell on top of my foot. I stared in dread at the pile of black hair on the floor.

The towel snapped away and Logan gave it a hard shake.

I lifted my eyes like one of those sad puppies at the pound, and Logan held a fist in front of his

mouth, suppressing a smile.

Logan wasn’t built like most men. His tall, V-shaped physique and sinewy muscle tone proved

it. Not large muscles, just defined. Although it did seem like since I’d met him he’d filled in a little

more. Broad shoulders, a confident gaze, and a unique face—masculine and predatory all at once.

Especially with his deep-set eyes framed by a prominent brow. Yet when he smiled, it was nothing

less than spectacular and I melted like butter in the hot sun.

His golden eyes lavished me with affection. The same savage eyes that could make the

toughest man tremble in terror. Logan’s fierce expression contrasted with his polite mannerisms.

Those characteristics are what had made me fear him when we first met. A Chitah ran on instinct,

and I could never underestimate for a moment how dangerous he was.

“Someday I’d like to see you with short hair,” he said, tugging at the ends that fell just below

my shoulders.

I turned to look in the mirror, unable to erase my smile as I shook my glossy black hair. Logan

had given me an angled cut with layers that suited my oval-shaped face.

“I think not,” I murmured, brushing the tiny hairs from my arms. “Short hair isn’t for me.”

He watched my reflection in the mirror from behind, leaning in close to pull in my scent. I

shuddered and spun around, pushing myself up on the sink. “How did you learn to cut hair like

that?”

Logan stepped forward and set the scissors down. “In a family of males who are not mated and

don’t visit the barber?” He chuckled softly. “It’s a role I took on for lack of options.”

“Why not one of your brothers?”

“After Levi shaved our heads many years ago, we decided not to rotate the responsibility.”

I softly stroked his jaw and wondered if Logan had done this for his mate long ago. He leaned

into my touch as he often did when I initiated physical affection.

“You should quit your day job and cut hair. Sure beats a killer for hire.”

Logan eased between my legs, sensually running his hands up and down my thighs. He

smelled like a thunderstorm when he nuzzled my cheek, and I loved the smooth feel of his freshly

shaven jaw. My hand caressed the nape of his neck, exploring all the soft spots. When I stroked

his Adam’s apple with my thumb, it stimulated an immediate reaction.

He began to purr.

Damn, I loved it when that man purred. It was intense and deep, like distant thunder or a well-

tuned motor. That primal, seductive sound gave me goose bumps and made me want to curl up

against him.

I reached around and stroked his long blond hair, tied at the nape of his neck.

“Speaking of haircuts,” I said, giving it a tug. “This is getting a little long, isn’t it?”

“Oh no,” he said defensively and stepped back. When Logan folded his arms, he meant

business. “That stays.”

Logan’s beautiful golden hair rivaled the length of my own. If it were a little bit longer, he’d be

able to wear it in a braid.

“Care to explain? Who are you? Samson?”

Logan shrugged lightly and his arms fell to his sides. Chitahs were notorious for their piercing

gaze, but I no longer felt afraid when I looked into his eyes. All I felt was a desire for him to say

sweet words and make me blush. And he could still do that—turn butterflies into pterodactyls

within my stomach. Within the black rims of his eyes that encircled the bright amber hue, I saw a

man with a secret.

“Not a good enough answer, Logan. You promised we wouldn’t keep anything from each

other.”

He traced his long finger across my bare knee and looked down thoughtfully. “It’s part of the

courting.”

My head jerked back. “Huh? You never told me this.”

He blinked slowly and lifted his eyes to mine. Logan’s demeanor altered, and he spoke with

honor and a hint of bashfulness—something I rarely saw in him.

“When courting a kindred spirit, Silver, the male does not cut his hair. To cut his hair is to cut

his chances. Once the female accepts him as her mate, only then should it be trimmed.”

“Is that symbolic, or do you believe it’s true?”

“Do you think I want to find out?” His brows angled over his serious eyes.

“If this goes on for years, you’re going to look like…” I tapped my finger against my chin, trying

to remember that fairytale.

“Rapunzel?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Or maybe the Winkle guy.” I bit my bottom lip as Logan put his hands on the

counter on either side of me and bumped his nose against mine playfully. I ran my fingers through

his hair while he whispered something unintelligible against my neck.

“If you ever get locked up, Logan, just throw down your tresses and I’ll save you.”

He twirled a lock of my dark hair between his fingers, bringing the soft tendril to his nose as he

drew in a deep breath.

“Do I still smell like lemon cake?” I asked. My fingers wandered along the tight muscles on his

arms, sliding underneath the sleeves of his light grey T-shirt.

He suddenly crouched low and ran his nose along the length of my body—close and inviting.

God, I loved it when he did that.

Smelled me.

What a strange thing to love about a man. The gesture felt erotic and the tiny hairs on my

arms would stand up. With each inhale, his soft purr rumbled and I pulled his face close to mine,

planting a soft kiss on his warm cheek. He caged me with arms that had once climbed a thirty-foot

tree with blinding speed to rescue me—his agile body leaping from branch to branch as he held

me tightly to him.

“Put your mouth on mine, Little Raven. I’m ready for a taste of lemon cake,” he said in a deep

and tumbling voice.

“Maybe I’m not so sweet,” I whispered, wetting my lower lip with a sweep of my tongue.

Logan’s eyes followed every movement, and he licked his lips in response. “I want your mouth…

on my mouth. Do it, or I’ll have to find something else to kiss.”

His gaze wandered down the length of my body to where his hands were stroking my hips. A

five-alarm fire heated up my cheeks and he burst out laughing, leaning in to give me a smoldering

kiss. I nibbled his lip defiantly and he moaned as if he were sampling something delicious.

“Do you have more information on the labs?” he asked, switching gears.

The secret labs conducting experiments, attempting to create a mutant Breed. My Creator,

Samil, had been involved. After his death, we searched his home and uncovered a list of names of

children born from Breed experiments, including mine. Simon had done a little research and found

that some of those children were still alive, but had been adopted out to humans when the

scientists discovered nothing unique about them.

Samil, on the other hand, saw potential.

We were uncertain how many people were involved and what advances in science had

occurred in the years since my conception. What if there had been a genetic leap with those

human children as they aged?

“Simon’s tracking down Grady, the man who seduced my mother into this whole thing,” I said

with irritation. “He might know if the experiments are still going on. Then again, he might not.”

“You still refer to her as your mother.”

I sighed and wiped a few stray hairs off the sink. “I know; it’s a habit. Maybe she was afraid of

Grady finding her someday, but she could have loved me. She could have tried.”

He brushed his knuckles along my cheek and lifted the anguished scent from my emotions.

“Sometimes love comes from those we least expect.”

I played with the ends of his T-shirt, thinking how right he was.

“HALO is working on a special case by request of the Mageri, so Justus hasn’t had the time to

pursue this any further. I’m meeting with Novis later tonight. Maybe he has some good news.” I

rested my head against his chest.

“As much as I’d love to ravage my beautiful Little Raven, I must go. Leo is waiting for me at the

Red Door and I suspect it’s more than just a social visit.” He kissed the top of my head.

I looked up and smiled. “Come here, Rapunzel, and give me a kiss that counts.”

“All my kisses count,” he said in heavy words, watching my lips.

Very slowly, I locked my legs around his thighs and a low vibration emanated from deep within

his chest. Logan’s tongue glided across my lips as he curved his hand around the nape of my neck,

massaging ever so slightly.

He kissed me slow and hard. I caramelized in his arms, sweetening to his taste as he consumed

me.

It counted.

***

“Well, this is an interesting change of scenery,” I remarked, admiring the fifties décor within

the diner where Novis chose to have our meeting.

A silver border trimmed the edge of our cherry-red table. Two juicy burgers rested on our

plates, buns smothered in sesame seeds and exploding with pickles. Instead of fries, we opted for