Stolen Son: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 7)

by Jamie Magee

  Dust may have well understood what kind of essence coursed through him, but he also understood if he were a part of any kind of Throng, as Scorpio had always told him he must be, that he would have had the symptoms Scorpio had quizzed him on for longer than Dust could remember.

  No wild orgasms here. Well, yeah there were wild ones, but there was always one girl present, or maybe two or three. But yeah. And no, he’d never dreamt of lives he’d never lived, just the long ass one he was cruising through.

  At best, there were just some people that were easier to deal with. They were few and far between, but Adair was one of them. Things just felt still around her. All of his other emotions swirling like little demons waiting to fuck up someone’s life nulled out when she was near.

  Dust could see where Scorpio was going with his train of thought, but it didn’t make any sense, and the last thing he was going to do was give him hope when there wasn’t any. Adair Vallet was an infant compared to Dust and very mortal.

  “Only on the surface, I can feel the power coming from her.” Dust answered. “It’s Talon,” Dust said easily. There was no way in hell anyone would’ve ever fooled Dust or Scorpio into believing Adair was some lost child Talley and his Ol’ lady had taken in.

  Scorpio swayed his head, he had thought so too. He also thought if he got close enough to Adair, gained her trust he could find the answers he needed. Emotionally that was, not physically. Things went too far, but his good sense came to him in time, and it was easy enough for him to convince himself and her that he did so to honor a biker code, a claim Judge had placed but never upheld.

  Years after, and especially lately, Scorpio regretted letting his front as a biker take the lead with Adair just as much as he regretted trusting it would all come out in the wash in the end. With any other case, five years was a beat, something anyone who had lived as long as he had could get through with next to no effort. For Scorpio, though, it felt like he was watching something precious and vital dance in the wind of chance.

  Dust was glad Adair had surfaced. Fucking thrilled Scorpio had his cage rattled by her all over again. It gave Scorpio the heads up that no matter how much he may want to be the part he played, he could not erase who he was or what he was.

  Dust was still trying to get a number on Adair, and he had a list of reasons to do so. Scorpio giving her a first, then second look, was the biggest. It wasn’t his style to care that much, not for as long as Dust had known him.

  The Voyagers in the mix were another good reason. Knowing how easily they could fuck with time, even hide a freaking kid’s existence—from their own parents—said they were not be underestimated. Dust even wanted to believe that was why there was an odd draw to Adair that he and Scorpio felt. For all they knew she had crossed their past, and the Voyagers had erased it.

  The thought sent a chill down Dust’s spine. He did not like being fucked with. And it wasn’t because the unexpected always happened to him, it was because it rarely happened, and when it did—shit got real.

  “I know how he works,” Judge said. “He didn’t leave on a whim. He planned this. You’re going to tell me where he is and he’s going to give me and the others the answers and respect we deserve.”

  Dust’s eyes soared over the map before him. He knew where Scorpio was, at least he knew where he sent his own personal Corvette. It wasn’t due to arrive for another twenty hours. What Scorpio was doing was a mystery in and of itself. Living as Dust had, it wasn’t hard to imagine who Toril was to Scorpio. Who she was to the pair of them. But the words had never been spoken. Much less how the possibility of such came to be.

  All Dust could recall from his beginning was a man coming to his tribe every year and vanishing into the forest. Once Dust was no longer a boy but a young man, worthy to be a warrior, the man in the woods stood at the chief’s side one night as they both told him an impossible story. When Dust refused to believe he was immortal or any of the heritages he was told of, Scorpio ran him through with his blade.

  It was the first time Dust understood real fear, the kind a soul could only personally own. It wasn’t the pain, if there was any he didn’t notice, it wasn’t the feeling of betrayal—it was the fact that he lived that frightened him. All at once, the simple life he had imagined for himself, the girl he planned to ask for, the family he’d have one day, the land he’d hunt and live off were gone, and a great unknown awaited him.

  Dust left with Scorpio at dawn and traveled across vast lands and seas until Scorpio abandoned him again, this time with the Druids. It was fifteen years before he saw him again, he later discovered that Scorpio had watched his every move.

  “Now you must learn this lie. Never falter from it. No one is to ever know your true past,” Scorpio schooled when he came for him again. By the time Dust met the Sons, he met fear for the second time. The very idea that there was a witch that could taint his natural abilities was petrifying; in his mind, she could be nothing short of evil. “We are here for them, remember that,” Scorpio had said nodding in the direction of Talon and the men behind him.

  Even after Dust’s rite of passage with the Sons, the third rite he had survived in his twenty-five years of existence (compared to his tribe and Druids, the Sons was the hardest of them all), he was not at ease. He knew then that one day he would see Reveca demand their heads.

  Dust looked over his shoulder meeting Judge’s determined stare. “He’s trying to save Talon.”

  “No one can do that alone.”

  Dust lifted his lip in what resulted looked like a failed smirk, then turned to face Judge. “It will take special power to help him.”

  “I’m aware,” Judge said ticking his head back. “Adair is on the hunt for it. I don’t think she cares to hurt her mother, but she damn sure is not willing to watch her father destroyed.” Judge stepped forward and didn’t stop till he was face to face with all six foot seven inches that Dust was. “I want to know why he didn’t give the order himself. Why he sent you into Church. A low blow, brother.”

  “You know him well. Co you think he would do this without reason?”

  “I know he is a stone-cold killer, and Reveca Beauregard has gone off her rocker over the years, but she’s never been bat shit crazy. She’s scared.”

  “Are we picking sides here?”

  “Should we be?” Judge countered.

  “Do what you will, but if I were you, a man with so much to lose as of late, I’d chose carefully.”

  Judge stepped up ready to get to the bottom of that fucked up statement, but before a single word left his lips an uproar coming from the front lot could be heard. Slowly, they broke their glare with each other then strode to the front.

  The scene was a breath short of a riot. Bastion’s bike was down in the gravel, so was he, with three officers holding him in place, and Gwinn was next to him. It appeared Shade had taken out four officers before Echo and Knight had managed to hold him back, Thrash was being held back by Talon and Dagen. Everyone was screaming, demanding answers.

  Everyone but Dust and Vike, the two of them passed a long knowing stare. Akan had begun his reign of terror.

  ***

  There were a lot of reactions Scorpio expected when this moment came, him trembling wasn’t one of them. He felt like an addict a breath away from the one thing he’d give his life for, not caring that the destruction of his life is exactly what must occur to possess a sweet sin.

  He didn’t expect to feel Toril’s emotions this richly, as completely as he did when he traveled across the world to find her. If it was possible to understand, they felt even richer, even more prized. Scorpio fisted his hands reminding himself not to touch.

  The twenty-foot-tall golden doors before him were etched in sacred runes of protection, each one carved out by his own hand. It had been a painstaking task that even as quick and immortal as he was had taken him months. They were designed to only open for him.

  With his body still trembling, he moved forward and placed his hands on eac
h door and bowed his head, his mind chanted the words that soared through the vibration of his energy and eerily, the doors began to shake, and then shifted open.

  Vast, cool, sweet darkness was before him through the open doors. Even without a shred of light, he knew where everything was in the room before him. There was no way he could ever lay his queen down on rock and seal her tight. A palace had to be built not only for her sleep, but also for her glorious rise.

  Glorious. Toril’s resting place had to be, for anything short would destroy her, and if there were a Creator of his kind, surely they would grant him the same leave. No man would be able to live with the heartache of a loss that promised no chance of a reunion.

  When it occurred, Scorpio had little choice on the matter of laying Toril down and even less on how. When the solution that was the darkest of fucked spells surfaced in his distant memory, he saw it as a sweet sign that he was not off course. There was hope. In the simplest of terms, the spell stated Toril would have to consume the power of her enemy before the first full moon of her resurrection.

  When he read the spell, he almost imagined Toril foreseeing his choice, leaving him a precious clue when he was alone and helpless—his back was against the wall, and he had no time to weigh his choice. Over and over he heard Toril’s promise to Reveca in his thoughts.

  “In the hallows of the underworld, I will drain the blood of your forsaken and slay you with the sword of their souls. Your power will be thine!”

  One life for another. Sweet retribution.

  At that point, as angry and desperate as Scorpio was, the cost and consequence were small. Standing in the darkness now, eras later, time had not swayed him, but it had layered a degree of guilt that he was having a hard time swallowing.

  He shook his head as the biker in him weighed in on the minimal options before him. Far too easily, Scorpio could fall in line and ride into the end of days with the men who had been at his side longer than anyone else. For all he knew, he’d survive that apocalypse too, then crawl back to this mountain and find another way to being again.

  Where would karma lay then? What happened if the stolen son returned only to slay the roots he was wrought from? What happens if the stolen son became the one wild card that changed the entire game?

  Deep down, he knew there was no question. He was stolen from his life, stolen from Toril, the only soul that ever mattered to him, his entire identity was shattered. When the rape of his personality and instinct happened, he had no choice but to stay with his abuser. He stayed for Talon. A lost member of his Throng that was wickedly twisted in a bed of denial as the seductions of a witch kept him drenched in the desires that had always entangled him.

  Leaving Talon behind would’ve been the same as leaving a child behind— Talon was a part of him. When someone you care about that deeply is in danger, you don’t throw a punch or two then run scared waving the flag of natural self-preservation. You swing until you can’t swing anymore, you never rest until your day of victory comes.

  There were days when Scorpio was sure it wasn’t worth it, when he was sure that he should have fought with more brunt and less strategy. There were days when he wished his enemy was not also his ally, when he wished he was not a prisoner of choices he didn’t make for himself.

  Every right and wrong turn in his life had left him standing where he was clenching deliverance that was overdue.

  A breath from him slowly began to light the candles, that side by side in two rows encircled the massive stone room. Beyond them, others sat on the natural rugged edges that reached hundreds of feet into the air. Chandeliers hung from outstretched ledges, the glass surrounding the candles on them only amplified all the light.

  The slow, delicate ignition of fire throughout the cavern was beautiful to watch as it unveiled the secrets of the dark, but Scorpio’s eyes were set on the platform that was still in the darkness—on it was a bed fit for a queen. A beautiful black canopy towered over it with white silk curtains clinging to its posts.

  Fine furniture, chairs, couches, tables, drawing tables, rows and rows of text filling an ancient library on lore— anything and everything a beautiful mystic queen could desire was there. He had built it all around, and as the years went by, he thought to never leave.

  If all they had to care for was each other, he might have stayed. But that wasn’t the case, and he knew that he had to go on without her.

  With his next step, the light of the cavern reached her. His breath hitched. He was sure there wasn’t a single feature he could ever forget, he was wrong. Lying in the center of the bed, her long red hair that had been touched by the sun waved out like a halo. Her creamy skin was full of youth and angelic beauty as it stretched over her long, lean, curved body.

  He fisted his hands so hard he was sure he’d hear his bones break at any moment. Even closer now he would see the rose tint of her heart-shaped lips, the peaceful lie of her long lashes on her high cheekbones.

  The spell he needed to wake her was one he had said to himself once a day to ensure he would never forget the words. But now the words were in the fog of his mind as he breathed her in.

  Time eased by and finally the throbbing in his soul lessened enough for him to think, to call on the words he needed to break the protective seal around her, and then...awaken her.

  He tensed as the spell to release her shield was spoken, but apparently not enough, as soon as it was gone the wave of all she was slammed into him, it felt like he had fasted for eras and all at once, not only was she a feast before him, he felt ravenous for her.

  To restrain himself, he leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees, drawing in fast short breaths. His body was straining to go to her, to consume her. The only thing that brought him back around was seeing her move.

  He stood and watched as her long legs slid together causing the silk of the gown she was wearing to highlight her sweet heat. Trapped in a spell and she still felt him, he could still stir her with only his presence. If his ego needed a boost, or his pride a rocket launch, she had given him one.

  It was hard to break the moment, to speak the words from a dead language, but each one fell from his lips, and as his voice grew deeper, richer, and more commanding, her body reacted. The scent of her desire slammed into him hardening his cock, and tensed every muscle in his body. His fist clenched as her back bowed off the bed, straining the hard peaks of her nipples against her gown, her long neck begged to be kissed as her hips bucked and the sweetest of moans left her lips.

  Finally, he said, “Come to me, lover. Your vengeance awaits. Our tomorrow is here...”

  Her amber eyes fluttered open landing on his, the sexiest of smiles touched his lips as he pulled his shoulders back and waited for her memory to catch up, for her to see beyond the warrior who shared her soul who was standing before her. Holding himself back from ravishing her for all of time was the hardest test he had ever faced.

  Season Three: Volume One

  Episode Three

  Chapter One

  Some seconds can last lifetimes; they’re unforgettable and change everything. All that was before them had been altered for eternity. It didn’t matter how many tiny pieces had to fall in place for the said change, it felt like the universe, in all its divine power, shifted at once. A soul would never feel larger or smaller than in the instant the glory of change washed down upon them, giving them no choice but to go forward. What was, was. What will be, cannot be stopped.

  At best, only half a minute passed as Toril’s mind fluttered into the present, but Scorpio knew where she was for each of those thirty seconds or so. He was there with her. His mind, hers, both reenacted the forbidden sensations making it even harder for him to keep his body and soul at bay.

  ***

  The last waking year Toril had was by far the hardest and greatest of Scorpio’s life. They had fought just as fiercely as the battles they landed in over and over. Toril was stained with jealousy and mad with the desire for all that was taken from her
to be returned.

  Not a slither of patience could be afforded in her mindset. Which made them both careless. When you are eager to move time forward, bringing every desire to you at once is so powerful that it overtakes your mind, foolish mistakes can and will be made. Often Scorpio was sure all the stress and tension was doing nothing but calling forward their demise.

  The beginning of the end was when Reveca and Talon announced that they were all to set sail to the Old World, what was today called America. At the time, it had yet to be discovered by the masses. Reveca knew of it because her coven had landed there long ago when they crossed into this dimension. It was much the same for Scorpio, no one but him was aware he too was sailing to a place he once called home.

  “You’re a blind man if you can not see her plots!” Toril raged in a sharp, quick whisper. “A bloody Roman could be trusted more than the likes of her and the evil she is.”

  “It is where her coven arrived in this world,” Scorpio said, doing his best to send the tiniest part of his soul to Toril. He had to feel her. He was sure it was becoming a matter of life and death. She could not deny him much longer if she expected him to string a single thought together much less fight for any side in this war. A male had needs for fuck’s sake!

  Deny him, again...no he would not allow it, not when he saw the dark circles beneath her beautiful eyes, how her skin was so pale. He was sure in the right light he’d be able to see right through her. Weak was not a position he could ever allow them to be, least of all her.

  What strength she had, she used to block the approach of his soul. Then she teased him in the worst of ways by moving her lips breaths from his. Desire and yearning for what had never been given—a simple kiss— ached throughout his body. It was sweet torment. “It is where you arrived! It is where all sacred power to take her down rests. She seeks to destroy it before either of us can reach it.”