For the Reign

by Debbie Cassidy

  He didn’t know about the Hunt, but there’d be enough time to tell him after. His ember eyes began to glow as they swept over my face, and then he reached up to graze my cheek with his fingers.

  “Eva … what are you thinking.” He leaned in so his lips were brushing mine and then spoke against them. “Are you thinking what I feel you’re thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that this”—I pressed my palm to his pectoral—“is your own body. It’s just you and me. I’m thinking I’m done waiting.”

  His chest rumbled in agreement and then he captured my mouth with his and rolled me back onto the bed, covering me with his body, all dips and planes and ridges I was aching to explore. He kissed me as if I was a delectable fruit, as if I was his savior, and each brush, each lick of his tongue teased the fire inside me. His body heated against mine, his skin silken-soft beneath my fingertips and hard and unyielding beneath my palms.

  “Eva.” He kissed my neck, trailing across my shoulder then back over my collarbones. The callouses on his fingertips sent delicious shivers up my arms. The tingle settled at the nape of my neck and then spread over my scalp in a wave that tugged a soft moan from my lips. He settled between my thighs, the ridge of his hips pressing against my sensitized flesh. It felt right. It felt perfect, and my mind switched off, giving in to the sensation of the skim of my fingers over his back and down to his butt, firm and perfect and mine. I squeezed, and he groaned into the hollow of my throat.

  I turned my head to find his mouth, to take him, to claim him. I needed to feel and taste and explore. A twist of my hips, and he was on his back beneath me. Sweet and salty on my tongue as I trailed down his chest, running my tongue over the ridges of his abdomen, down, down to the sweet, hard length of his desire. I peeled down his boxers to free him, and my heart swelled at the sight of his arousal.

  “Eva …” His hand fisted in my hair. “You don’t have to—”

  He was taut velvet in my hand. I took him in my mouth, tip first, sucking and licking.

  His grip tightened, and he drew a sharp breath through his teeth. “Eva, fuck.”

  I was doing this to him. Me. This was a new kind of power, one that sent a sharp thrill through me that settled at the apex of my thighs, throbbing and aching. More, I had to have more. I worked him, encouraged by his moans and groans, by the arch of his back and the thrust of his hips against me.

  “Enough, fuck.” He pulled me up his body and claimed my mouth in a crushing kiss that sucked the breath from my lungs. His arousal pulsed between us, too hard, too big. I needed it. I needed it inside me. Straddling him, I leaned forward, positioning him at the sweet spot and rubbing against him. His mouth found my breasts, and his tongue swirled around my nipples. He grazed them with his teeth, tugging on them until I was rocking against him, slippery and wet and ready. A slight shift and he was pushing inside me, his hands on my hips while I undulated, taking him inch by inch, breath hitching because the girth was almost too much … Almost.

  “Shit, Eva, you’re so tight.”

  “No, I think you’re just fucking huge.” My voice was breathless, every atom focused on the connection our bodies were making.

  He reached between us, and his fingers found my sweet spot, sending a new sensation through me—a tightening and rippling that radiated outward, melding with his gentle thrusts as he entered me a little at a time. Our pants and gasps filled the room as he finally pushed all the way in. We rocked together, easing into the fit, mouths melding, tongues tangling as he rolled his hips against me. My body relaxed into him, eager to take it to the next level, to ride him and watch him come. I began to move my hips, countering his movement and leaning back to allow more room to maneuver, to allow him to see himself thrusting in and out of me. His jaw clenched and his eyes were fire as he fucked me, hips rising to meet my rhythmic motion. Each thrust pushed against my G-spot, each slide and slap of flesh on flesh pushed me closer to the edge. I braced myself with one hand on his chest, the other behind me between his legs, and worked it, finding that pace, the sweet rasp until my body was trembling, whimpering with the inevitable release. He rose up, pushing me back, adjusting me so my legs were over his shoulders, and drove it home, over and over until there was nothing else but the stars in his eyes and his name on my lips.

  The sun was truly up, bathing the room in gold, when Sage and I pulled on our clothes. I’d filled him in on the horn and the Wild Hunt, and the fact that we could go home. That we had what we needed. Or the best we were going to get.

  He buttoned up his jeans, covering up his boxer-clad butt.

  I sighed. “You have a fabulous arse, you know that?”

  He chuckled low in his throat. “I don’t think anyone has ever quite put it that way, but thank you.” He wound an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss.

  It was sweet but short because the interlude was over. It was time to get back to reality, to leave the love nest and prepare for the final battle.

  I zipped up my boots and shrugged on my jacket, a pleasant warmth lingering in my limbs and chest. His warmth, the djinn flame. My body felt energized in a way it hadn’t for weeks. I’d always been that little bit faster, that little bit stronger and alert, but I’d been frayed at the edges—unraveling and wearing thin—but it was as if someone had taken a brush and slapped on a fresh coat of paint, rendering me brand new. If this was the effect sex with a djinn had on a person, then I’d be having a lot more.

  “You ready?” Sage asked.

  I nodded. “Let’s get the heck out of here.”

  Sage led the way back into the empty tavern. The fey had probably departed for their homes once they realized the dead were gone. Elsi looked up from wiping down tables and smiled.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  Was that a mischievous twinkle in her eye? Shit, how loud had we been?

  Sage ambled over and took her hands in his. “I’m grateful for your aid, Elsi. I truly am.”

  She waved a dismissive hand, but her cheeks bloomed pink. “Pah. It was nothing. Sit and I’ll make breakfast.”

  As lovely as that sounded, there wasn’t any time to waste. “No, we won’t be staying.” I smiled to soften my words. “We need to get home.”

  She nodded. “Yes. King Alaron said you may say that. He asked me to tell you to meet him at the border to the village, under the Merryville sign.” She tutted. “He’s kept watch all night in the chill, making sure the wolves didn’t venture forth.” She shook her head. “I fear that they’ve moved on. I fear that he won’t find what he’s looking for.” She tucked her wiping cloth into her apron pocket. “You saved our village, child. You freed us from death. I wish you success in your quest.”

  We left her pottering around the tavern and headed out into the cold morning light.

  Without a raging blizzard, the walk back up the hill and through the forest was almost pleasant. The sparkling snow, the trees tipped with silver, and the sky a crystalline blue were like a fantasy postcard.

  Alaron led the way, his boots barely making a dent in the snow, while Sage and I proceeded at a slightly more sedate pace. Alaron wasn’t in a talkative mood. He kept his head down and his hood up the whole way. I guess the disappointment of not finding his daughter was heavy in his heart.

  Sage didn’t try and strike up a conversation either. Instead, we walked in silence. The forest ended, and we were back in the clearing where Sage and I had gotten separated. The Winter King kept walking. He knew exactly where the thinning was, and ten minutes later, he came to a standstill and pointed at the air.

  “This is where you would have come through. Give me a moment, and I will open it a fraction, but you must be quick. I cannot risk holding it open for long.”

  Yeah, we’d never have found the thinning without the Winter King’s help.

  Sage placed a hand on Alaron’s shoulder. “You know the djinn will aid Faerie if need be.”

  Alaron nodded. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, but my gut feeling isn’t p
ositive. This Faerie is the hub, it is the spawning dimension of many other versions of Faerie dreamed into existence by Morrigan herself, and if this one falls, the others will be lost also and the mortal realms that all the fey realms touch upon will be doomed.”

  “But Morrigan has a plan?”

  “Morrigan always has a plan,” Alaron said with a smirk. His sapphire eyes grew darker, as if saturated in memories. “She’s more than a queen. She’s the most formidable woman I’ve ever met.”

  Sage smiled. “Yes, I recall.”

  Alaron cleared his throat. “Ah, the banquet.”

  Sage arched a brow. “Yes. The banquet.”

  They both burst into laughter at the inside joke, but Alaron sobered quickly. “Let’s get you back.” He turned to me. “When you’ve won your battle, the Hunt will guide you home.” He indicated the horn. “It belongs in Faerie and it will find a way back.”

  “What?” Sage turned to me, a question on his face.

  I hadn’t told him about the whole obligation thing, how Alaron was expecting me to come back and take Cernunnos’s place. What was the point in worrying about something that I may never live to have to contemplate?

  I tucked my arm through Sage’s and shook my head. “I’ll explain later. We should go.”

  Alaron’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, probably to elaborate on the issue, but a series of howls cut through the crisp morning air, cutting off his words, and from the look on his face, his train of thought.

  His head whipped round toward the direction of the sound, and his shoulders beneath his cloak tensed. He tucked a strand of silver hair behind his ear.

  “You should go. Now, before it’s too late,” he said.

  The world was crackling with energy.

  The howls grew closer.

  “Now,” Alaron ordered.

  I looked across the clearing to see the pack of white wolves bounding toward us, and behind them came the storm, gray and bubbling in the otherwise crystal sky.

  “We can’t leave you to deal with them alone.”

  He turned to me, his eyes blazing blue fire. “You can, and you will. I am the Winter King, and I command you to leave. Now.”

  The force of his anger, his intent, had me stumbling back. So, this was the king behind the mask of a man.

  The spot where the thinning lay began to fizz. Alaron turned away from us and toward the rapidly approaching pack. He drew his sword from the sheath at his waist.

  “Now,” he urged us.

  The word was cut off as Sage grabbed me around the waist and pulled me toward the thinning. The snowy world melted away, my boots splashed in water, and darkness stole my vision.

  “Shit.”

  Sage clapped a hand over my mouth, his body super tense behind me. And then it registered—the breathing, the panting, and our location. We were back under the bridge, but we weren’t alone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I nodded to let Sage know I understood we weren’t alone. He slowly removed his hand from my mouth and drew the huge knife at his waist. I pulled my tulwar from its sheath. Feet shuffled, and the pants grew excited. My night vision had kicked in enough to make out several shapes—several human Feral. Was it nighttime outside?

  Sage unclipped the radio from his belt, and I nodded slowly, letting him know I was ready, that I had him covered, because as soon as he made the call the Feral would be disrupted by the sound and attack in a frenzy. I took a stealthy step, putting me in between Sage and the Feral.

  The radio erupted in static as Sage switched it on, and the Feral attacked. My sword cut through the gloom, neatly decapitating two of them. I ducked and brought the blade up to eviscerate another. Kill, kill, kill. Dammit, these were souls that we could have saved. The human count was dropping.

  “The others are on their way,” Sage said, joining me as we cut our way through the Feral and out from under the bridge into the moonlight. We scrambled up the bank, not looking back until we were safely at the top.

  Sage looked down at his hands. “I don’t know how long the residual energy from Faerie will last.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t have a host, Eva. The energy I absorbed in Faerie is allowing me to keep form for now, but I will become incorporeal soon, and then I’ll be of no use.” He grabbed my hand. “I need to get you safely to the others before that happens.”

  “Okay, yes. I like that plan.”

  Sage’s gaze slipped over my head, and his face froze.

  “No. Hell no.” I slowly turned to track his gaze, to see a horde of human Feral running toward us, quick and nimble and determined. Too many to count, too many to fight. “Motherfuc—”

  Sage tugged me hard. “Run.”

  We broke into a sprint, headed for the forest and the way out of the town, headed toward the guys and the van and, hopefully, sanctuary. Strange whoops and snarls drifted to my ears, carried by a helpful breeze.

  Just what I needed to hear to kick up my heels and run that little bit faster. Sage kept pace, still corporal, still with me. The edge of the forest loomed up ahead. The guys couldn’t be far. Probably on the other side of the tree line. How long had it been? Minutes? They should be bounding out of that forest at any moment. Maybe even in wolf form. My heart swelled at the thought of seeing them. It had been less than a day, but fuck, I’d missed them.

  The radio crackled, and Logan’s voice drifted out. “Feral in the forest, we’re on our way. Working through them.”

  Pale shapes came running out of the tree line. Feral probably scattered by the Fangs’ attack, but they were headed our way.

  Sage and I ground to a halt. Feral at the front, Feral at the back. Our gazes locked, and we reached for our weapons at the same time. There was nothing to do but fight until help arrived. My tulwar was already out, ready to swing, and Sage had that smile on his face, the slightly sadistic one that made my nether regions tingle. And then his dagger dropped to the ground with a soft thud.

  His eyes went wide. “No. Fuck no.”

  Shit, I could see right through him, and there was no time to dwell because the Feral were on me. My sword slashed and cut and stabbed. I ducked and rolled and ran, but there were too many and no room to maneuver. Oh, shit.

  “Eva, the horn. Use the horn.” Sage’s voice was a panicked bellow.

  I yanked my blade from a Feral gut and reached for the horn at my waist. Would they come? Would this work?

  The ivory kissed my lips, and I exhaled hard and long, running and dodging the Feral. Something slammed into my back so hard it knocked me off my feet. I went down hard. Breath on the nape of my neck, Sage’s scream in my ear, and then thunder and lightning tore the sky. Power shot through me like electricity and the weight was gone. I rolled to my feet, suddenly energized.

  “They’re here.” Sage came to stand beside me. “Oh, God, Eva, you weren’t exaggerating.”

  The Hunt rode back and forth through the horde. Each time their whips cracked, a Feral fell down dead. It was over in a matter of minutes, and then, as before, the Hunt turned to me, their energy fizzing and popping around us.

  Caister and Dia dismounted and strode over, stopping a couple of feet away from me. Their hoods were pulled low, leaving only the bottom half of their faces visible.

  “The air smells odd. This mortal realm is tainted,” Dia said.

  I crossed my arms. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  “But …” She smiled. “The souls are still delicious.” She didn’t touch me but it was as if her aura reached out and caressed mine, sending a spike of desire through me. The urge to step back, to put distance between us, was a visceral thing, but I held my ground. Alaron had warned that I needed to keep a tight leash on them. To control them while in the mortal realm.

  I stood taller. “I’m glad you enjoyed your meal.”

  Caister and Dia were silent for a long beat and then the male spoke. “Is this the fight you spoke of, the souls you said had lived too long?”


  “No. This was just … an interlude.”

  Caister inclined his head. “Then we will ride once again soon?”

  “Yes, you will.” I held up the horn. “But for now …”

  His lips curled in his favored mocking smile, one that said, enjoy the power while you have it. “Of course.”

  “Eva!”

  Logan? I glanced over my shoulder to see Logan, Ash, and Elias running toward me, but their gazes weren’t on me, they were on the spectacle surrounding me.

  Thunder clapped and lightning crackled and the Hunt was gone. The power that had been coursing through me was sucked out, and my knees felt suddenly weak. I braced myself, swaying slightly.

  “Eva?” Sage reached for me, but his hand passed straight through me.

  “What the fuck?” Logan came to a standstill beside me, his eyes on the spot where Caister had stood a moment ago. His dark hair looked unruly and windswept, and his warm brown eyes were dark with concern, but damn it was good to see him. Elias stood farther back, his violet eyes fixed firmly on me. His silver hair seemed to glow in the moonlight. He was utterly and undeniably beautiful. And Ash, shit I needed an Ash hug.

  “Eva?” Sage reached for me but pulled back at the last moment. “Logan, there’s something wrong with her.”

  “What the fuck, Sage. I can see right through you,” Logan said.

  My knees buckled and I made a grab for Logan, my fingers gripping his ripped bicep, but there wasn’t enough strength in my hands to hold on.

  “Eva!” Logan and Sage cried out in unison.

  And then the fever flared, sweeping over me in a violent rush and drowning me in heat and darkness.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Logan

  I catch Eva as she falls and scoop her up into my arms. She feels warm, too warm. The heat is seeping through her clothes. Her head hangs back, and the smooth column of her throat is exposed, pale in the moonlight. Panic shoots through me.