Stolen Son: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 7)

by Jamie Magee

  Scorpio gripped Toril’s hips and leaned his forehead to hers. “I was pure with my wife, tonight I’m cursed. I can’t hurt you. No matter how bad I ache I can not see the same fear in your eyes.”

  Her hands caressed his neck as her lips turned and kissed his cheekbone, then moved to his ear. “I am made of you, for you. As you are for me.”

  Did it make him weak that he felt his own eyes grow damp? Maybe, but he didn’t care, as ravenous as ever he moved her face so his lips could fall on hers, feeling his chest against hers, the pulse of their souls was a newfound heaven he never wanted to leave, but knew could be ripped from him at any moment.

  Her nails rushing down his back and clawing at his ass were surely drawing blood. The action was also gearing up his need. His female wanted him closer, and he was determined to oblige every need she had.

  His long arms encircled her lush body then slid down her ass, parting her thighs, he groaned as her scent of need shattered the room and the tips of his fingers found the sweet heat he’d dreamed of. “So much smaller this way,” his words teased against her lips as she smiled then hooked her leg on his hip, leaving her wide open for his touch to explore as reverently as he always had when he possessed her in the past.

  His broad fingertip circled her entrance then slid up to her throbbing clit, the gasp that released through her kiss was sweet music to his ears. How tightly her body pressed his cock between them only made him have to hold back his feverish instinct.

  One taste, he told himself. As deep as he was into every second he had with this woman, the warrior in him didn’t let him forget that miles ahead there were angels in the heavens, the war of a generation was on the horizon.

  He lifted her body then moved her on the bed, as he laid her down she spread wide, welcoming him home, only the slightest of disappointed moans left her as he pulled their pressed bodies apart and his lips began to dance across her flesh, he ravished her neck then cupped both her breasts in his hands as he fed them, one by one, into his devouring kiss. He breathed in the sweet scent of summer as he moved across her body. He continued deeper and deeper, and then the holy grail of his female’s flesh was before him, pulsing, aching.

  Toril didn’t care much for his stare, even moved to hide the blessed view he’d found, but he was having none of it. He grasped her legs and moved them over his shoulders as he moved forward, kissing her from one luxurious end to the other. Her hips bucked, but he only held her tighter as his tongue danced with her clit, drawing it in only to gently need it through his teeth. Her entire body convulsed. Fearing this was as close as he’d get before hell came for them, his fingers pushed inside of her, hooking up to massage the sweet spot behind her clit.

  The sound of ecstasy escaping her lips, the praise of him in every language she knew drove him to plunge deeper, harder. Over and over her body released, milked by his touch.

  When she could control her body once more, she shot up and pulled his lips from her flesh, and then tried to push him back on the cabin floor, but he braced himself and growled, “No time.” He wanted inside, and now. There was no way he was leaving this earth without knowing what if felt like.

  “Make time, they can fucking watch for all I care,” she said as her power moved his large body back revealing his long, thick shaft.

  Watching her lick her lips, then her smile, the dazzle of delight in her eyes was enough to make him come right there. He had to call on every mind over body trick he knew. He even tried leaving his body, thinking watching would still give him the moment, but save him from the torment, but his soul was determined to not go anywhere.

  When her lips fell to the crown of his slick head and the beautiful waves of her red hair fell over him like a silk sheet a moan thundered from his chest. Her mouth was so hot and wet, a contradiction to every other sensation in the room. Realizing she couldn’t take all of him in, he found a way to ride the pleasure, his hand landed on the back of her head as his hips thrust up, feeding her, preparing her for what was coming her way—an unstoppable power.

  Whatever seductive control he had was shattered when he felt her grip his balls. Nope. He was done and done. He pulled her lips from him then drew her up, when she balanced on her knees, his arms lifted her further until her thighs fell on the outside of his. His cock jutted seeking the heat that was hovering over it.

  Their stares were locked, outside the seas were growing angry, thunder was vibrating the vessel, but the pair of them were in a world of their own. She reached between them and then guided the crown of his head to her entrance.

  Ever so slowly he penetrated her, the seal of her girlhood was broken, a gateway never passed was opened wide for him. Her emotions of shock and fear slammed into him, he willed himself to lower her even slower, to be as still as possible.

  The universe had different plans.

  A great wave rocked the boat, and before either knew what had happened, not only was the whole of him wedged deep inside her, but the pair of them had rolled. Now he was bracing his body over hers feeling the clench of her sheath all around him, still pulsing from her last orgasms.

  “Sorry,” he panted.

  “Move, male,” she grunted extending her hips up, hissing at the pain as she did. “Take me from the pain.”

  It was one command he could obey. His body did rock forward, but then he gripped her hips as he pulled himself to his knees. Looking down he could not only see how beautifully they were joined but every inch of her glorious body. One hand moved to her clit, massaging it in the wetness spilling from her, as his other hand swayed up her body, all the way to her neck. Wider and wider his path inside her became. Carefully, he rocked forward, taking in her reaction as he did, nothing about this female had ever escaped his attention. At this moment, he had never been more aptly aware of her.

  Her fear was gone, with desperate need taking its place. He pulled his hands from their ministrations and gripped her hips, then pushed going deep, only slightly pulling out before he did so again, and again. He felt his seed swelling inside him, pushing for an overdue escape, but he held back.

  Finding her way past the pain, Toril’s body writhed and reached for him to come closer, when the depth left as he did, she changed her course and used his body to pull herself up, with her arms encircling his neck she moved her hips in slow circles as his hips hooked upward, back to his deep seat.

  “Let go,” she said across a short breath. He didn’t want to, he wanted to feel her pleasure release around him. Seconds later, that was exactly what made him let his seed explode within her. Like a fist, her body milked him over and over as the pair of them thrust together.

  A surge deep and pure ruptured from within his chest, and that instant he was sure they were not divided by two bodies, but they were woven together as one brilliantly bright soul, pristine, and flawless in every way. Nothing else mattered in that moment of ecstasy. And he knew that the wait was worth it, that he would wait a million years for this chance once more.

  The images came then, fast and fleeting, some more embodied by the essence of the soul than a mortal image, but still they came in the masses. Seeing them, feeling them, was bending his mind. He was sure if this was the size of his Throng they’d never prevail. There were too many, they’d go mad if they ever tried to sync, too mad to help anyone, much less themselves.

  Trembling he pulled his mind from the head spinning revelation and put both his hands on either side of her face. Panting he said. “All of them?”

  Her breaths were deep and fast, and for a second the best she could do to answer him was sway her head no. Finally, she reached for one of his hands and moved them between them, against her navel. “It begins with one...”

  The ramifications of her words had only seconds to strike home. He was still wildly searching her amber eyes when a wave rocked the boat so ferociously that the pair of them were thrown to the opposite wall. Still inside her, his lips hastily kissed hers then he pulled away. With immortal speed, he pulled his armo
r on.

  “Stay here, stay hidden,” the look of warning in his eyes awakened anger in hers. He’d told her to do so before, mere months ago when the Sons were fighting Zale, and Toril was determined to get a piece of not only Zale but Reveca too. Scorpio never meant for any of his power to go near her, but once it did and he watched her fall into a rich sleep, he fought fearlessly, determined for his enemies to either fall or deliver him to where his precious Toril was.

  When the battle was over he was still standing and determined as ever to bring Toril back around. He was desperate enough to take her to Reveca if not Zale but not ignorant enough for it to be his first choice. He’d felt life in Toril, even though any other soul would swear she was dead. He could still sense the emotions of her soul.

  A Druid took her in, and told Scorpio she would return if life willed it, only the darkest of spells could bring a soul back from death. He’d eyed Scorpio with suspicion knowing he was a member of the Pentacle Sons who had all but taken over the lands. Lead by a witch who crossed the boundaries of life and death often, the richest of sins to the Druids. To them, it was a slap in the face to the gods. An insult to the good, and a beckon to the bad. Point blank, the Sons were a swelling curse devouring the lands they occupied.

  “Which ones, what spells?” he’d asked. The Druid gave him a tea to drink. “If you are meant to know, you will dream of the answer. If she is meant to rise, she will. Leave the witches be if you care at all for the tomorrows of the masses.”

  Toril did rise, nearly a week later. Instead of telling her of the hell of worry he’d been through, Scorpio laid a simple threat at her feet. “Asleep you are safe from wars that you are not ready for. Female, if you want to stay awake heed my demand, stay behind.”

  Toril obeying anyone, much less him, was a joke. She left his sight only to emerge in the forest once the rumors of the Sons sailing to the Old World found her. The fight was still raw between them. This was the first time his threat or promise had the chance to be exercised.

  Scorpio gave his lover a lasting look, begging for the unknown power that created them to help him understand the female on any level at all. Then he left her side to fight the hells that were promised to descend on him if he ever indulged in the female that was made for him. “Worth it,” he grumbled into the howl of the storm.

  Chapter Two

  Above deck Scorpio found the sails broken, more than one had broken from its mast and fallen into the sea. Any men that were aboard before were long gone.

  The ship began to spin in a whirlwind of water as the wind threatened to take his feet out from under him, and thunder roared so violently that he felt his bones vibrate.

  The constant flashes of lightning gave Scorpio no sight on who or what he was about to fight. But he could feel them.

  His foe was not the legions of angels in the heavens in the distance; he could still sense them there. There was something with him, a phantom of evil.

  He turned in time to see the rain wrapping around the beast of a male. The male would have been blind to him without the storm Scorpio had cursed seconds before.

  A war of supernatural powers was at hand. No blow or weapon of Scorpio’s would score the male before him. Only the thrust of vim would offer any defense much less a worthy blow. The beast aimed for the precious cargo below decks, but was unable to reach it due to Scorpio’s ferocious defense. The phantom tore away at the vessel itself, wood planks soared through the air, only missing Scorpio each time.

  The phantom’s distraction was Scorpio’s victory, he could see the being losing form. He could see him breaking away. Then the worst of hells happened. The phantom no longer had to dig for Toril, she emerged proud as ever and began to aid the fight.

  All he heard was a booming voice in his head demanding that he protect his female, and Creator forbid, whatever she may be carrying deep within. The battle changed when Scorpio realized he was only getting in more blows because the beast was distracted by the reach he had for Toril.

  “The dark gods oversee the living. They haven’t much say over the dead, not truly...” the words of Toril’s mother from long ago came to him as if the woman were at his side begging him to fight with more wisdom than brunt.

  And so he did, Scorpio’s next blow was aimed at Toril, knocking her down so violently that her soul escaped before her body ever hit the deck, like the protective male he was he pulled her soul into him. As pissed as she was at him for delivering his promise the pair of them swelled with power.

  The beast was doused in confusion. To him, Toril had simply vanished, he had no need for her body, and therefore it was nothing to him as it lay broken at his feet. Blow by blow, Scorpio struck the being until its essence shattered and then vanished. At once, the seas stilled. The wind stopped. The silence had never been more terrifying.

  The next days were long and haunting. If it were as simple as taking his female into his body and walking the mortal earth with her, Scorpio would have done so long before the battle forced his hand. They were called soul visits, for only a visit could be withstood. Even two souls made of one could not rejoin in the plane of life he was in. He had to return her to her vessel and let fate have its say.

  Seconds after the battle he no longer heard her, but he felt her all the same. When there was no anger, but only the love she felt for him he knew something tragic had happened. Lost at sea, there was not a single soul for him to reach out to. No one to tell him how an immortal could be slain by a phantom. No one to tell him who or what he fought and if they’d return. There was nothing, only his thoughts and daydreams that took him back over every second he’d had Toril in his life. Every warning given to him by her people and those who crossed his path only to mysteriously give him sage advice before vanishing.

  If he released her back to her body, would that mean the one hunting them both, her more so, would sense her again? If so, they were both too weak to fight them. The chance was too high.

  Putting her soul into the deepest of sleep would give them both time to grow and understand exactly who they were fighting and why. It was his only choice, but it was not one he made easily or quickly.

  Her lips were blue, her emotions near tranquil before he drew forward the words of the dark spell he had dreamed of weeks before. One that would give his female rest, and once awoken the vengeance she craved so desperately. He’d have no choice but to make sure she was victorious. If not, he’d lose her again...this time forever.

  Holding her body staring down at her beautiful face he was sure no loyalty or leniency to any person could ever sway his desire. Today, staring at her lying in the bed she had rested in for eras, he knew he was right then. He loved her more.

  After the storm and the battle with the phantom, the Sons were sure Scorpio had been lost at sea, but he knew, and had crossed the waters he was in more than once. Scorpio guided his vessel down a familiar path, and once he made landfall, he began the long journey to take his queen to the only land that ever truly felt like a home to him in the realm he was in.

  Day after day he watched as Toril’s stomach swelled. At night under the stars, he would whisper to the being within, whisper to Toril, then dream of the way it should’ve been and now the way it would be. He’d arrived in his homeland, in the worshipping arms of his tribe hours before his son was delivered.

  As he watched the women and listened to the shamans lead the entire tribe in sacred dances and prayers, he prepared for the worst. When the flushed bundle of flesh was laid in his arms, and he heard the cries of his son for the first time, for the briefest of moments, everything he had been through was worth it.

  Toril never awoke, but life still remained deep within her. For months, as he built her resting chamber and sealed it with protection from every threat, her body nursed a child she had yet to lay eyes on. Scorpio would stare at the two of them and drawn in the deepest of breaths, feeling a precious bond that was unexplainable.

  No matter where Toril was, how deep she was into the u
nknown, the smallest part of her was with her boys. By the time Scorpio laid Toril in the hidden palace he had built for her his grief was so rich it was nearly crippling. All of life was a fog, and he was content to let his anger overtake him, it was easier to hate, easier to blame.

  It was his son that awoke him. When Dust was barely one-year-old, he began to speak in his sleep as he nestled against his father’s chest. He was speaking in the language of Scorpio’s mother. Ancient spells and stories would leave his lips, and as they did, Scorpio’s own childhood memories came back to him. He was told of this day, he was told of his future the way all mortals are, through signs and meanings that are only clear when he was ready to see them.

  Then a name came from his infant son’s lips that changed everything.

  Jamison...

  Scorpio knew a Jamison and knew where he was. Going back to the Sons was the only way he would discover the answers he needed. Dust was three before Scorpio left him and Toril. His journey over the next years took him across the Old World, back to the lands the Sons had conquered, and back again, over and over. In all his travels, his eyes were open, his mind the same. He was looking for answers to questions he didn’t know how to ask. Very few came, and then time became his enemy.

  There were days when he did exactly what Toril accused him of, he became one of ‘them.’ He let the simple life of a Pentacle Son seduce him into an odd comfort where ‘one day’ was too far off to fear. He was a fool to do so.

  Over the last decade, he’d struggled to bring himself into focus. It was even harder to do. No one in the modern world knew of ancient wars, much less cared to discuss them. Still, Scorpio felt it, he sensed it when Reveca grew weak years back. And even more so now that she was coming into focus once more, becoming the emotionally power stricken witch he’d first met.