The Darkest Day

by Britt Bury

  No! He should be happy she was suffering. Not fantasizing about what her skin would feel like against his.

  He stared into the fire, certain the blaze of hate within himself was far hotter than the coals before him. This chit was affecting him in a way he didn’t like. Hell, the fact that she was affecting him at all sat ill.

  His teeth gnashed together. And I can’t “physically hurt her.”

  He looked at the brand on his wrist. It had appeared the moment he’d agreed to Izel’s terms. The sodding thing wouldn’t disappear until the bargain was fully completed, or Izel released him from it. A humorous laugh escaped his mouth. Christ, he was in a contract with a Campbell. His father would turn over in his grave.

  He could have, should have, just knocked her out, but he was to deliver her unharmed. Not to mention, one blow to the head from an immortal would likely kill a human.

  When her exotic scent danced in front of his nose, he clenched his fists. He was so hyperaware of her it bordered on obsessive. Her presence was overwhelming him again. He wasn’t lying when he said she made him uncomfortable. Christ, “uncomfortable” was an understatement. This little female made him crazed.

  His gaze was rapt on her, recalling her delicate hands stroking her shoulders and drinking from the canteen. When a drop of water strayed from her lips and down her jaw, he had actually envisioned licking the liquid from her neck.

  He shifted his hips, subtly attempting to adjust his incessant erection. For the hundredth time tonight, his shaft was as hard as a rock. “Ah, shite,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Whatever this bond was, Kelvin didn’t welcome it. And by God, he would fight it. At least until he figured out what to do, or Ian got back to him with some damn information. Because one would be utterly stupid to fuck with the Dryads. His eyes continued to look over the female before him. She was still struggling with who knows what emotion.

  Distract her?

  Kelvin thought for a moment about how to proceed.

  If she knew of his people’s hatred for hers, she would have let on by now, right? What kind of information did the Mystic pass on to her? Did she know of her prophecy? These were questions he needed answers to, but how to retrieve them?

  Still shaking from the intensity of the mystical aftermath, he tilted his head in examination. Could this wobbling little human really possess realm-defying powers?

  “Ya must be hungry,” he said, removing a dagger from his belt and picking up the rabbit. Her green eyes shot between him and the animal. A look of disgust came over her face.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” she answered while palming her throat.

  “You canna eat that measly chocolate and expect to have strength for our journey. We need ta make good time tomorrow, and I donna want ya slowing us down.”

  Her eyes turned to slits and she gave him a heated glare. “What is your deal?” she snapped. “Are you always a jerk to people? It’s not like I’m thrilled to be traipsing through the goddamn old country with you.”

  Keeping his gaze down, he began skinning the rabbit.

  “What is your issue with speed, anyway? It’s not like you’re getting older by the day.”

  Kelvin didn’t take his eyes from his task. “I wanna get ya outta the forest as soon as possible. Your human scent is strong and bound ta draw unwanted attention.” And I canna be near you on the Solstice.

  Her eyes widened as if he had just spilled some big secret. After a moment, she settled and looked him square in the face. “Unwanted attention, huh?”

  “Do you know anything about my kind?” he asked, desperate to redirect the conversation. He was inadvertently upsetting her. And if she was angry, she was less likely to give up information. His best bet was to befriend her. Earn her trust.

  Maybe he could soften her by offering up useless intel of his own. Women liked chatting. Yammering on and on, constantly trying to get males to “share their feelings.” Kelvin gave himself an imaginary pat on the back. Aye. Good plan.

  Izel faced him fully, her previous “emotional episode” seeming to settle. “Not really,” she shrugged, “though I heard once that you come in threes, like Fionns.”

  “We are no’ like Fionns,” he spat the words. “You have traits where we have instincts.”

  Rolling her eyes, she shifted, giving him her side.

  He sighed. “Yes, there are three breeds o’ Pookah.”

  She spun back, facing him again. Kelvin grinned. So she was curious about him. Although he’d never admit it out loud, the thought pleased him.

  “I am a Razorback, but there are also Wolverine and Bear Pookahs.”

  Her eyes were locked on him, fascination radiating from her. “What makes you different?”

  He looked down at his moving blade. “Being a Razorback comes with”—he thought for a moment how to present this—“consequence.”

  She put her elbow on her knee and rested her jaw in her palm. “What kind of consequence?”

  He finally had her attention.

  Maybe if I befriend her, tell her some things about myself, I can gain her trust and she’ll answer my questions.

  Simple.

  If Ian wanted to know how much Izel was privy to, Kelvin was on the right track.

  “There are different rules, so ta speak, with each breed. Different variables set us off.”

  Izel straightened and he heard her gulp. “What sets you off?”

  Her wide, innocent eyes were staring straight at him. He couldn’t help smirking. “Several things,” he replied coyly. “More specifically, it’s the night. The darkness.”

  She gave him a questioning look.

  “Darkness brings my animal instincts to the surface,” he clarified.

  Now she jolted completely upright. “Are you saying that every night you turn into a pig?”

  “No.” He retorted quickly, eyes going back to the rabbit in his hands. “I told you, I’m no’ a shifter. No changing.”

  “Then what?” she asked curtly.

  “It has ta do with mating.” Was his voice rougher than it had been a moment ago? He forced himself to go on. She was going to hear it eventually anyway. “My kind has a single mate. Some refer to it as our companion.” He glanced at her again. She was quiet, watching him diligently. “And we can only find ’em on the Winter Solstice—”

  “The darkest day of the year,” she chimed in. Kelvin tensed. The woman was quick.

  “Aye.”

  She nodded, silently urging him to continue.

  “There’s no way ta find her, or… well, know for absolute certain it’s our mate… until we attempt them.” His hands were moving quicker on the rabbit. He didn’t risk looking at her. Too busy cursing himself for getting onto this subject. So much for thinking things through before speaking.

  “By ‘attempt’ you mean”—she tilted her neck, obviously seeking eye contact, but he didn’t take his focus from his task—“you mean fuck,” she finished. He flinched.

  Why did he care about her knowing this? This was who he was. How he was built. Never in his long life had he been ashamed of his kind. Yet with the angelic stare of this small female upon him, he felt a little uneasy with his Pookah caste.

  “The basic rule of nature is to acquire necessities to thrive,” she said calmly. “Since reproducing is key to a mammal’s survival, I assume, by what you’ve stated, the night of the Solstice is a busy one for you.”

  Kelvin snapped his head up, shocked by her simple logic and indifferent tone.

  “And how is it you’re made aware that one is your companion?” she asked, still seemingly unaffected.

  “Ah… well…” How in the hell was he to say this? Any way he tried it was going to sound less than flattering. “There really is no way ta know without attempting them—”

  “You mean fucking them,” she interrupted, still no feeling in her words.

  “In order ta find our match we have ta—”

  “Fuck,” she said again. “And since th
e only way to find her is by fucking, then you must fuck a lot.”

  Kelvin had just watched the prettiest mouth he’d ever laid eyes on say the dirtiest word in this realm, and damn if it didn’t turn him on. What he’d give to hear her use such a word in reference to them. These newfound emotions of hers—dare he hope jealously—were making an appearance and he liked it. The previously prim Miss Campbell would never use such language.

  “Are you no’ takin’ me seriously?” he asked. She made an odd psssh noise in response.

  “Ah, not really. This all just sounds like an elaborate excuse for being a player.”

  He heard the disdain in her voice that time. And for some reason it bothered him. He didn’t want her thinking the worst. “It’s no’ my choice. It’s how my kind is. How all Razorbacks are.”

  She just shrugged. He was losing her again.

  “Once we find ’em, though, we never desire another again.” That got her to look at him. Kelvin saw her slight frame gently shiver.

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms. “But you still haven’t said how you know when you find her.”

  He looked at her face, overcome anew by how lovely she was. “We bed ’em”—he held up his hand to stop her from interrupting with the word “fuck” again—“on the Solstice, and she will be the one we return to in the light.”

  She was silent for a long moment. He let her take in his words, hoping he wouldn’t have to go into even more detail. The whole process of finding one’s mate was tricky. There was one clause that he wanted to keep from her. A tiny detail about his breed that had never really bothered him until that moment.

  Kelvin, like many Razorbacks, had been with a lot of women. However, once a Razorback slept with a woman and she wasn’t his mate, which was likely, the Pookah would never desire that particular female again. But the moment he bedded his true and only female, a choice was made. A choice many Razorbacks feared as much as anticipated… one he could never come back from.

  “The Solstice is the only time this can happen?”

  “To find our companion, yes; it must be on the Solstice.” He looked down at his bloody hands. How did he ever think this a wise idea? A millennium-year-old Pookah gabbing about his sex life with the most pure mortal left in this realm.

  Bloody brilliant, Kel.

  Where was Ian when he needed him? He would have already come up with a plan to extract information from this female. Instead, Kelvin was sitting here, gossiping like a schoolgirl about his sexual escapades.

  For all of Ian’s strengths, though, Kelvin held the upper hand when it came to harnessing the Pookah instinct. Old scrolls said that a Razorback would be drawn to his fated female and be able to deny her body until the Solstice, so that he might possess her for an eternity.

  Despite his own belief, Ian didn’t put much weight in the ancient writings of their ancestors. He didn’t believe one could be “pulled” to another being. To be on the safe side, his brother generally avoided any woman unless he was absolutely certain there was no way she could be his companion. Kelvin shook his head slightly, feeling sorry for his brother. There was always a bloody consequence.

  If a Razorback wasn’t careful and slept with his fated female for the first time before the Solstice, he would relinquish her indefinitely and live a bleak existence, suffering the loss. Kelvin had lived more than a thousand years, not caring if he ever did find his female.

  Looking at the woman across the fire, he now felt a ping in his chest.

  There was always a consequence.

  “What happens the other three hundred sixty-four days a year? Are you celibate?” Izel asked honestly.

  He chuckled. “God, no.” Her shoulders slumped. Christ, what was wrong with him? Was he trying to gain her trust or push her away? Tough to tell at this point.

  Bloody fucking brilliant, you sod!

  “The night still affects us year-round,” he said, trying to double back on his earlier words. “The closer it gets ta the Solstice the stronger the effect.”

  There. Better.

  She bit her bottom lip and looked to the ground. He could tell she was still curious. After all his verbal screwups, he hadn’t completely run her off. “Do you just pick one woman the night of the Solstice and hope for the best?” A touch of naïveté laced her tone.

  Kelvin looked at the rabbit again, which was now ready to be put on the fire for roasting. “No’ just one,” he mumbled. He didn’t have to look at her to know she was staring at him, jaw slack.

  “So what?” she snapped. “You run around like a madman screwing every female in sight?” Her breaths began quickening, and he could feel the anger rolling off her. “And what if she doesn’t want you, huh? What then? Do you just do it anyway?”

  His eyes shot to her. “I’ve never forced myself on a woman! I just—” He shook his head. This conversation had gone so wrong. “The only reason I told ya this was so that ya understand the nights are getting longer and more difficult for me ta—”

  “For you to what?” she sneered. “Keep control? Are you saying you want to ‘attempt’ me?” She mocked the last words. “You think to make me another notch in your bedpost? Well, you are out of luck, because I would never—”

  “I have a pull from nature,” he cut her off in a bored tone. It was time to end this. He’d gain answers from her another way. He didn’t need her to like him. Didn’t need her to trust him. Fated female or not, the fact remained that they were enemies. En-e-mies! It was time to start treating her like one.

  “Donna get carried away. I would ne’er seek you out for anything more than a good throttling. You’re a mere human. I am over a thousand years old, an immortal warrior. I have seen”—he looked her dead in the eye—“and fucked countless women. You are no’ of my interest.” With that, he jabbed a stick through the rabbit meat and held it over the fire.

  His stare remained on the coals, unable to look at her. He kept his features harsh and bit down on his tongue to keep from taking back his words. His plan of gaining her trust had just horribly backfired.

  She didn’t say another word, just silently curled down on the ground, putting her back to him. Kelvin looked to the sky, running two fingers along his temple. He’d hurt her badly. Worse than that, he’d chosen to do so. He could have let her be. But he didn’t.

  I deserve to be gutted.

  Chapter 6

  Izel tossed and turned on the plush leaves Kelvin had laid out for her. She was cold, hungry, and nearly sobbing. It had taken all the strength she had to keep from crying at Kelvin’s earth-shattering insults.

  She’d gotten caught up in a topic she knew nothing about, and she paid dearly for it. Of course, she wasn’t upset by the fact that Kelvin had bedded an obscene number of women. Noooo, not bothered by it at all. And yet, despite her struggle to remain calm and return to her unfeeling self, her blood was racing and her body tense.

  This is me, totally unaffected.

  She rolled again, facing him. He was sitting against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, clinging to his daggers. Her gaze lingered at his thick biceps and meaty forearms. Even after his cruel tirade, her body still responded to him. That is going to change, she promised herself. She wanted nothing to do with this a-hole Pookah. And he wants nothing to do with me.

  Good, fine, done. She would get a grip. As soon as they reached this castle, she would acquire the answers she sought, then go. And maybe, if she was lucky, she would find her grandfather, live a happy life, and maybe meet a nice man she could try out her new feelings of lust on.

  Her gaze landed on Kelvin again. Although new to this whole “feeling” thing, she was pretty sure Kelvin was a man she should steer clear of despite her body’s protest. He was the dark, dangerous kind of man her party friends back home would go for. Not Izel. Plus, he didn’t want her… and had tried to kill her.

  His sword lay next to him, the shining metal glinting in the moonlight. He took slow, even breaths. Glad someone could sleep. Dawn was only a
few hours off, and Izel contemplated running. Sure, she’d be unprotected, but maybe she could find her grandfather’s clan on her own. Surely she didn’t need Kelvin. Okay, maybe she needed him, but she certainly didn’t want him. Still, with a stroke of luck and a headlong sprint, she might stumble upon another Fionn and ditch this Pookah once and for all.

  Or run into a bloodthirsty psycho mass murderer.

  Was she really considering fleeing? Purposefully putting herself in harm’s way just to get away from Kelvin? Did his snarky, totally jerkish words really hurt her that badly? She flinched, recalling what he’d said. Yes… they did.

  A noise that sounded a lot like footsteps came from the distance. Her gaze shot to the dense trees just a few yards beyond. Branches rustled slightly and she peered harder, straining to see. Stupid, useless human eyesight. Holding her breath, she internally muttered, It’s just the wind. Don’t freak out. It’s just the—

  Her eyes shot wide when she caught a glimpse of the creature in the distance.

  Kelvin awoke to Izel’s potent human scent, fading. Across the fire, he saw the pallet he’d made for her, but the human was not upon it.

  “Damn,” he mumbled, rising to his feet. Shaking his head, he sheathed his sword and one dagger. A blade in his hand, he lifted his head to the light breeze, easily catching her trail. He sprinted after her.

  His blood boiled beneath his skin. He didn’t know if he was angrier at Izel or himself. Had he not warned her? Told her never to part from him? It was a useless effort; she couldn’t get away. Already he was closing in on her, her scent becoming stronger with every stride he took.

  Why would she take off? She knew his protection was essential to her survival. It stood to reason that his hateful words were behind her incentive to run. Should he have said what he had? Probably not. For it was not only an outright lie, it actually caused him physical pain. Jesus, what was wrong with him? He didn’t care about Izel’s feelings. He had never been one to sit and ponder such things. Yet here he was, once again, worried about the human. He was about ready to carve at his own body. Traitorous sack of skin!