by Donna Grant
“Interesting.”
She winced as she caught sight of the bags of clothes from the day before. “I was only going to spend my money yesterday, but then I wanted to erase all parts of the last four years.”
“It’s understandable.”
“I know how all of this makes me look. I needed to make a clean cut, to eradicate the past.”
“You can no’ erase it. It’s part of you. It made you who you are today,” he said as he leaned back in his chair and pushed his empty plate aside.
Lily rubbed her left wrist that was beginning to ache. A reminder of one of the first instances of abuse from Dennis. “My scars will be a constant reminder, yes, but I have to remove the parts that keep me from being who I really am. The clothes, the attitude. The fear.”
“He chose your clothes?”
It took her two tries to answer. “Yes. He didn’t like anyone looking at me, so he had me wear loose, baggy clothes. I forgot what it was like to feel good in something until yesterday.”
“Did he break your wrist?”
Lily stopped rubbing it and stared at him.
Rhys’s gaze dropped to her left wrist for a moment. “You’ve no’ stopped rubbing it for some time. Does it hurt?”
“Only when it’s about to rain, and yes. He broke it a month after I chose him over my family.”
“Why did you no’ go back to them then?”
Lily wrapped her now cool fingers around the cup of coffee to warm them. “My mother was a commoner. She had no connections to the upper class, and yet my father fell head over heels for her. My grandfather wasn’t pleased at all. He wanted his children to marry in the upper class, but especially his heir. My parents snuck off and married, much to the dismay and anger of my grandfather. It wasn’t until my eldest sister was born three years later that my grandfather would even speak to my parents.”
“All because your father chose your mother?”
Lily nodded and scrunched up her face. “Sad, isn’t it? My parents told all five of their children that it didn’t matter who we fell in love with, be it prince or pauper, if we loved them, then they would be welcomed into the family.”
“Then what went wrong with your lover?”
“Dennis won my parents and brother over initially. He could be very pleasant when he wanted. One weekend my father and brother went hunting and invited Dennis. When they returned, my father was agitated. He told me I was still young and that I shouldn’t be ready to settle down so soon.”
A frown furrowed Rhys’s brow. “No explanation?”
“None. My sisters never liked Dennis. They were always rude to him, and yet he was so congenial. But they saw the evil inside him that I never did. Until it was too late. After the harsh words to my family when I left, I was too proud to go back to them then. I only wish I had.”
Rhys’s aqua ringed dark blue eyes held a hint of anger when he said, “The bastard will get his day.”
“Yes. He will.”
Rhys tossed his napkin on the table. “What do you want to do today?”
Lily glanced at the clock and cringed. “I was supposed to be at work fifteen minutes ago.”
“Everyone knew Denae brought you to Edinburgh. Your job isna in jeopardy.”
“Are you sure?” she asked as she rose and searched for her clutch that had her mobile phone in it. “Perhaps I should call.”
“Denae already has. They left a few hours ago.”
Lily slowly straightened from picking up her clutch. “Oh.” Was Rhys taking her back? She prayed for it even as she hoped that he had another engagement. Being so close to him was a harsh reminder of what she had to do.
“I’m to drive you back to Dreagan.”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “You don’t mind?”
“Only if you do.”
Lily lowered her gaze to his chest, visible in the gaping robe. She frowned when she saw the dragon move again. That couldn’t be right. Tattoos didn’t move.
“Lily?”
She jerked her gaze to him. “Yes, that’s fine. When did you want to leave?”
“We doona have to. Would you like to remain another night?”
More than anything. It was on the tip of her tongue to say yes. Then she thought of Dennis’s phone call the night before and his threat to Kyle if she didn’t get him the information. “They might excuse me today, but I doubt I’d have a job tomorrow if I didn’t come in.”
“As you wish.”
With their conversation now strained, Lily stared at her plate. A magical night was now spoiled by Dennis. Could her hate grow any more? Apparently it could.
Lily rose and nervously looked around. “I guess I better get ready.”
She walked to the bedroom with a heavy heart. Without even trying Dennis had shattered her dream, destroyed the one day that would get her through the rest of her life. Loathing grew and spread through her. She could feel it seeping into every nook and crevice of her mind, smothering anything good. But she didn’t care. In order to kill Dennis, she was going to have to be methodical, meticulous. And cold.
Lily removed her robe and put on another new set of bra and panties, a pretty nude lace confection. She decided on a pair of jeans and a blue and white striped nautical long-sleeved fitted shirt and a navy sateen jacket with gold accents. A pair of black boots with four-inch heels completed the outfit.
She looked at herself in the mirror and ran her fingers through her still damp hair. The clothes were her armor, a reminder that she made her own decisions and chose what was best for her. Every time she dressed now she would be severing another tie to her past. And it felt wonderful.
Lily walked out of the bedroom and found Rhys still sitting at the table. His smile of appreciation set butterflies off in her stomach.
“I feel like I should take you sailing.”
She laughed and glanced down at herself. “So that’s what I inspire, huh?”
“Nay.” Rhys stood and walked to her. He stopped in front of her and set his hand on her hip, their bodies brushing. “I was thinking how much I’d love to strip those clothes from you and keep you in the bed for the rest of the day.”
Lily forgot to breathe as a mental image flashed in her mind of their bodies entwined. She reacted instantly, desire tightening, coiling within her until her chest heaved. Rhys wasn’t just sexy. Every movement, every smile, every look of his beautiful eyes was erotic, stimulating. Suggestive.
He was the god of sex, skilled and proficient in the many ways to bring a woman to her knees with a seductive smile.
“If I got back in that bed, I wouldn’t ever want to get out.”
Rhys’s grip tightened on her waist. “Is there anything wrong with that?”
“No, but it wouldn’t be long before those at Dreagan came looking for you.”
“And you.”
No, it wouldn’t be anyone from Dreagan looking for her. It would be Dennis. “You’re the one important to Dreagan.”
“You doona think you’re important?” he asked with a slight frown.
Lily rested her hand atop his arm holding her. “I meant at Dreagan.”
“You’re important to us. We doona hire anyone that doesna fit.”
“I’m just an employee.”
Rhys raised one dark brow. “If you think that, then why did Denae ask you to accompany her yesterday?”
Lily didn’t have an answer.
“You’re part of the Dreagan family. And we doona let just anyone in.”
A sharp pang of guilt and regret pierced her. She couldn’t believe she was going to betray people who considered her a part of their family. But she had to remember her true family, she had to remember that it was Kyle’s life that was on the line. As much as she loved working at Dreagan, her brother was more important.
“I love it at Dreagan. I don’t ever want anything to change that.”
“Then doona let it,” Rhys whispered.
That was the second time Lily got the fe
eling Rhys knew what she was about. She shifted her feet nervously, but didn’t look away from his gaze. “I never willingly would.”
Rhys’s mobile rang, splintering the silence. He sighed and dropped his hand from her waist. “There are really times I hate those damn things.”
She smiled as he walked to the bar and answered the phone before taking it into the bathroom with him. He closed the door, and a moment later the sound of the shower reached her.
Lily sank down on the couch and put her head in her hands. That’s when she began to plan how she would ensure Dennis never bothered her again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ulrik wasn’t just shaken at seeing his uncle, he was alarmed. All the dragons were supposed to be gone. All except the Dragon Kings, and his uncle was never a King.
“Sit, Ulrik,” his uncle said in a smooth voice. “Let’s talk.”
Ulrik was tempted to remove Mikkel from the store, but he was intrigued. Not to mention there were questions he wanted answers to. So Ulrik took the chair opposite him. He looked Mikkel over in his tailored black suit and white shirt opened at the neck. His uncle’s hair wasn’t quite as long as his, but it was the same inky shade of black, just as his eyes were the same golden color as Ulrik’s.
Whatever happened to Mikkel, he had stopped aging as well. He looked only a handful of years older than Ulrik. There was only one thing that would stop him from aging.
“Mikkel, what are you doing here?”
“I never left,” he said with a smile that held a healthy dose of smugness. “Oh, Con tried to send us all away. I fought it, because I knew if the dragons ever left, we’d never return. This realm is ours.”
He said the last part in a hard tone. Ulrik didn’t disagree with him, mostly because he felt the same. Earth was the dragons’ home eons before humans ever arrived. “It doesna explain how you’re here. Or why you’re in human form.”
“Ah. That,” Mikkel said in distaste. “The Dragon Kings were so obsessed with taking your magic they didn’t know what I was about. When your magic was suppressed, the Silvers needed a King.”
Anger crackled through Ulrik, but he kept a tight rein on it. There was only one King of the Silvers, and he was it. Until he knew what his uncle was about, he wasn’t giving anything away. But how it burned to know Mikkel was a Dragon King.
Though that wouldn’t be for long. As soon as Ulrik had all of his magic back, he would take the title once more. Mikkel hungered to be a Dragon King, but his magic and power didn’t come close to comparing to Ulrik’s.
“No outrage?” Mikkel asked with a small smile. “You really have become soft after all these millennia of being in human form.”
Ulrik simply stared at Mikkel. “You’ve been here all this time as a Dragon King. Why no’ challenge Con? Why no’ go to Dreagan?” He purposefully left out the Silvers caged in the mountain at Dreagan, because he wanted to see how much his uncle knew.
Mikkel’s laugh was that of an adult humoring a child. “All in good time. I intend to take over Dreagan and remove Con from existence.”
“Con is mine,” Ulrik said in a low tone, the silent warning dripping from his voice.
Mikkel’s gold eyes expressed his doubt. “You don’t have any magic. You can’t go against a Dragon King without your magic.”
“But you can?”
Mikkel gave a halfhearted shrug. “I’ve got my ways.”
“So you can shift?”
“Let’s focus on you right now.”
Ulrik began to laugh, the sound empty. “You can no’.”
Mikkel’s pleasant expression faded to one of fury. “Nay, I can no’!”
Ulrik didn’t think his uncle realized he’d slipped and used the brogue. Mikkel had been so careful to speak in his British accent, and Ulrik knew it was by no accident.
“Does that please you?” Mikkel asked, once more in control.
“Immensely. However, I’m curious. If you’re a Dragon King, why are you unable to shift?”
Mikkel crossed one leg over the other. “When your magic was locked and I became the King of the Silvers, I immediately shifted into human form.”
Ulrik watched the aversion on Mikkel’s face, and almost laughed. “Aye. That’s what happens to all Kings. That’s how one becomes a King.”
“Exactly. I knew something must’ve happened to you, so I remained in this form and went to find you. I saw Con in dragon form standing over you, and then I saw him fly away with the others following.”
“So you watched me walk away?” Ulrik said, a new bout of anger emerging.
Mikkel gave a shrug of indifference. “You were no longer King.”
“I was alone,” he said tightly.
“You survived.”
It took everything Ulrik had to keep his fingers relaxed and not rip the arms off the chair. “Then what happened?”
“I tried to shift.” Mikkel stood and began to walk around the area while he spoke. “No matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t get away from this human form. The magic I had wasn’t as strong either. It was like something dampened it.”
Ulrik knew it was the spell Con and the others used on him that somehow affected his uncle as well. “All these thousands of years you’ve been right here. Why show yourself to me now?”
Mikkel stopped behind the chair he had vacated and smiled. “Because I want you to join me. You’ve no idea how long I’ve been planning this, or how much I’ve already done.”
“Tell me.”
“I’ve come to an understanding with a group of mortals. They like to think they’re in control of things, and I allow them to believe that. You might know them as MI5.”
Ulrik recalled the visits from the Dragon Kings as things began to make sense now.
“There is also another alliance I’m particularly proud of,” Mikkel said. “The Dark Ones.”
“I might no’ have been a King during the Fae Wars, but even you know what occurred during those years. You can no’ trust a Dark.”
Mikkel’s lips twisted as he considered Ulrik’s words. “I have an understanding with Taraeth.”
The king of the Dark. Mikkel really was playing with fire. Ulrik himself had made friends in the Dark Fae world, so he knew all the participants.
“With the Dark and MI5 on my side, I’ve been able to do a great many things.”
Ulrik rubbed his hand over his chin, feeling a day’s growth of stubble beneath his palm. “Like what?”
“My people have infiltrated Dreagan multiple times.”
“To what end?”
“I’ve convinced MI5 that those at Dreagan need to be exposed for the dragons that they are.” Mikkel chuckled. “You should’ve seen their outrage and fear to know they aren’t the only beings on this realm.”
“They know of the Dark now.”
Mikkel’s eyes narrowed as his smile faded. “Of course. They must work together.”
“How did the mortals take the Dark?”
“Not well, actually. Neither do the Dark like being so near humans and not able to take them as they normally do.”
Ulrik knew there was more, and he wanted to know all that his uncle had been doing. “What else?”
“There is a weapon on Dreagan that can kill a Dragon King.”
Of all the things he thought Mikkel might say, this one took him aback. “What?”
“A weapon that Con has kept hidden from all.”
Not all. Kellan would know as Keeper of the History, but Ulrik didn’t bother to tell Mikkel that. “What kind of weapon?”
“That I don’t know. Yet. I’ve a man who will get on Dreagan any day now and find it.”
“Why no’ have MI5 or the Dark get it?”
Mikkel made a sound at the back of his throat as he waved his hand. “Damn mortals screw it up every time. The Kings know as soon as someone crosses their boundary. Same with the Dark. The patrols the Kings set up night and day prevent the Dark from getting onto Dreagan unnoticed. We did find a
way, a secret doorway. You might know where that doorway is located since it’s the spot the Kings killed your woman.”
A slow blaze of rage enveloped him. No one spoke of her. No one.
Mikkel put his hands in the pockets of his pants. “That doorway is the only place someone can get onto Dreagan without the Kings knowing it. Can you believe the Kings made a pact with the Campbells years ago to guard the piece of land that borders Dreagan?”
Ulrik glared at his uncle.
“Apparently one of the Campbells is a Warrior. I know you must have run across those bastards over the last few hundred years. Mortals who allowed a primeval god inside them to give them power and immortality. Then there are the Druids the Warriors are married to.” Mikkel grunted. “The Druids use their magic to alert whatever Campbell lives on the land that someone is there.”
“So you can no’ get on Dreagan.”
Mikkel grinned then. “The Kings are used to people coming to take a tour of the distillery. My man is going to get on Dreagan that way.”
“The plan will fail. Those who work for Dreagan are loyal.”
“Not if you use the right motivation,” Mikkel said softly.
Ulrik blew out a long breath. Mikkel had always had a way of getting what he wanted. The only thing that slipped through his fingers was becoming a King. “I guess you have been busy.”
“That’s not all I’ve done. My most impressive feat yet is the beginning of the end of the Kings.”
Ulrik feared he already knew what it was. “Care to explain?”
“I mixed Dark Fae magic with my own during a battle between the Kings and the Dark. Rhys never knew what hit him. Not until it was too late. I never did like that reckless idiot.”
“You made it so he can no’ shift.”
Mikkel rubbed his hands together, his gold eyes alight with merriment. “Oh, yes, I did. It was fabulous. I don’t imagine Rhys was without pain. He learned soon enough that he could either stay a dragon forever, or remain human to the end of his days. Odd how he chose the human form.”
“You condemned him to what we’ve suffered.”
“Rightly so,” Mikkel said in anger. “One by one, I’ll ensure the Kings know what it means to suffer. Con will be the last.”
