Blaze

by Donna Grant

  “I can’t believe I never visited Scotland in all of my travels,” she said without turning around. “I listened as Asher spoke of Dreagan, and the love and longing I heard in his words made me want to know what I was missing. Now that I’m here, I don’t ever want to leave.”

  “It’s a good thing you belong here, then,” Con said as he moved closer.

  She turned to face him. “I do belong here. Really, I belong anywhere Asher is, but this place is … I have no words for how it makes me feel.”

  “Magic,” he supplied.

  Rachel laughed softly. “Yes. It’s magical. I can feel it. Everywhere.”

  Of all the women, Rachel was the one who had seen Ulrik in his true form when he attacked her and Asher. It was only because of Asher that she hadn’t died.

  “This war will get worse before it gets better,” Con said.

  She licked her lips. “I expect as much.”

  “You’ve seen a lot with your work. Your presence will help keep the other mates calm.”

  “I promise to do my best.”

  He held out the large box. “I know you will.”

  Surprise flashed in her dark eyes as she accepted the gift. Then she opened it. Without a word she took the four strands of faceted chrome diopside to the mirror and clasped them around her neck.

  With her fingers running over the deep green beads, she turned back to him. “These are the perfect gift. Each time I wear them, I’ll feel as if I’m wearing a part of Asher. Thank you so much, Con.”

  “Welcome to the family.” He smiled and turned to the door as he said, “I’ve got one more person to see.”

  “Hurry. I can’t wait to see Asher.”

  Con was smiling when he closed the door. He gave a quick knock when he stood in front of his last stop. Almost immediately, the door opened.

  Devon moved back for him to enter. “Is it time? Please tell me it’s time because I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

  “Just a moment more,” Con said, hiding his grin.

  She closed the door, her long, mocha skirts rustling as she walked to the dressing table, then to the bed, and back to the table.

  Her two-piece gown accentuated her lithe figure and showed a hint of skin at her waist. The top of the gown was beaded and in a halter style with a low back.

  “Devon,” he said, stopping her with a hand on her arm before she could move away again. “Are you nervous?”

  She gaped at him. “Not at all. I can hear Anson in my head, and he keeps saying he’s about to come up here and get me if I don’t hurry.”

  It still amazed Con that those two were linked in such a way. It had never happened before, and he wasn’t sure it would again.

  Ryder had done extensive research into Devon’s family. It had taken a lot of work, but he’d discovered a link to the Druids on Skye that surprised everyone—and explained so much.

  But that connection was so distant, it didn’t seem as if it should matter. Yet it was the only explanation for what Devon had been able to do.

  Magic, as Con had just told Rachel, couldn’t be explained. It simply was. It worked in various, wondrous ways.

  “Then we should hurry,” Con said. “First, this is for you.”

  She stared at the velvet box for a moment before taking it. Shooting him an excited grin, she opened it. Her smile widened when she took out the smoky quartz bracelet.

  He held out his hand. “Shall I?”

  “Please,” she asked, handing him the bracelet.

  “I designed it with both round and princess cut stones because I couldna decide on which suited you better. I also think it matches you. You’re of two worlds.”

  Once it was clasped in place, Devon held up her arm and gazed lovingly at the piece. “You put a lot of effort into this.” She lowered her arm and looked at him. “I’m honored by your gift.”

  “I’m glad you like it. Now, come,” he said as he heard Anson in his head. “Anson is losing patience.”

  Devon laughed as she took his arm and they walked from the room. When they reached the main floor, the other four women were already gathered. He looked at each before leading them through the solarium to the hidden door into the mountain.

  *   *   *

  “I’m here.”

  Anson’s gaze jerked to the opening in the cavern at the sound of Devon’s voice in his mind. He didn’t see anyone but his woman, the love of his life.

  The sight of her in the dress that matched his dragon stirred his blood. He held out his hands to her. As soon as she touched him, he fought not to kiss her.

  They stared into each other’s eyes. He was smiling like a fool, but it was only because he was deliriously happy. Con had been right all those years ago when he’d said that Brenna wasn’t his mate. The proof stood before him now.

  Devon was the other half of his heart. She made him whole. And together, they would do amazing things. With their mental link, she was a part of him, and he was a part of her. The yin to his yang.

  Just like his dragons.

  He’d always wondered why he had such a tattoo. Now he knew.

  Con’s voice rang out in the cavern. “It’s a joyous day when we gather for such a ceremony. Today, we welcome five more into our family. It takes a special kind of woman to claim the heart of a Dragon King and agree to be a mate.”

  “I love you,” Anson whispered to Devon as Con stopped before Darius and Sophie for their vows.

  Devon gazed at him so adoringly that it caused Anson’s heart to miss a beat. “I love you.”

  Not once did he take his gaze from her. He wanted to remember every detail of the moment from the way her blue eyes shone in the low light to how exquisitely tempting she was by baring a portion of her stomach, her shoulders, and nearly her entire back.

  His woman was hot.

  And all his!

  Finally, Con stood before them. “Anson, do you bind yourself to the mortal, Devon Abrams? Do you vow to love her, protect her, and cherish her always?”

  “With all my heart,” he readily answered.

  Devon’s eyes filled with tears. Anson squeezed her hands when Con turned to her.

  “Devon, do you bind yourself to the Dragon King, Anson, King of Browns? Do you swear to love him, care for him, and cherish him always?”

  “With all my heart,” she said, repeating his words.

  In the next heartbeat, she gasped in pain as the dragon eye tattoo burned itself into her skin on her upper left arm. Anson looked at the tat and wanted to shout with joy.

  “The proof of your vows and your love,” Con stated. “Devon is officially marked as Anson’s!”

  The cavern erupted in thunderous cheers for all five matings.

  Anson quickly pulled Devon to the side before anyone could find them. He looked closer at her new tat that had the same black and red ink as his own.

  “I’m finally yours,” she said breathlessly.

  He pulled her against him. “You’ve been mine from the moment I first took your body.”

  “Well, we’re official now.”

  “That’s right. I have you for eternity.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “I like the sound of that.”

  Anson covered her mouth with his for a long, slow kiss to seal their vows. He craved her, and now that they were bound, he ached for her even more.

  “Let’s leave,” he said between kisses.

  She laughed. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

  “There are four other couples. They willna miss us. I need you,” he added.

  She moaned as he kissed down her neck. “Let’s go.”

  He took her hand and hurriedly led her out of the cavern. When they glanced back, the other newly mated couples were making their escape, as well.

  Anson laughed as they ran through the mountain, into the manor, and up the stairs to his—no, their—rooms. He grabbed her against him, turning around in the room.

  “This is the first day of o
ur lives together,” he said.

  She kicked off her shoes and gave him a saucy look. “Then I think we need to do some celebrating of our own. Come here, husband.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice.

  EPILOGUE

  Rhi stood veiled in the corner of the cavern, watching the mating ceremony. She hadn’t looked Daire’s way since the Dark Palace when he’d knocked Balladyn unconscious.

  She was still so angry that Death had erased her memories, and Rhi wasn’t yet ready to talk to any of the Reapers—especially Daire.

  He’d seen her at her most vulnerable. She’d told him things she hadn’t shared with anyone else. He knew her secrets. How long would he keep all of that to himself? Because there was a reason he was following her.

  And she intended to discover what that was.

  She wasn’t sure why she’d come to the ceremony. If Con knew she was there, he’d be furious. Then again, he was always angry at her for something or other.

  With each King who bound their hearts to their mortal, she felt a sting of remorse and sadness so great she found tears welling up.

  At one time, she’d dreamed of her own mating ceremony. She’d known exactly what she would’ve worn. Though it mattered little now. Everyone had moved on.

  She stilled when he approached. He kept his back to the others as he faced the wall. She hated herself for remaining near him, but she couldn’t seem to leave.

  “I know you’re here,” he whispered.

  He’d always been able to sense when she was veiled. She should’ve remembered that. If only she hadn’t needed to feel a part of something.

  His face turned her way. Her hands itched to cup his jaw, to run her hands through his hair.

  “Rhi!”

  Balladyn’s call went out to her again. She’d ignored him for too long. He was becoming impatient. And she had no business at Dreagan.

  She glanced in Daire’s direction, curious as to what the Reaper thought of her actions. Because she didn’t know what she was doing. She was supposed to be over her King.

  With one last look at him, she teleported away.

  *   *   *

  Esther read over the description of the Druid for the hundredth time. She could hear the celebration of the newly mated couples below. Now that the official ceremony was over, she was invited to join in the festivities, but she didn’t go down.

  She’d been welcomed at Dreagan because of her brother, but she didn’t feel as if she really belonged—not after what had brought her to the estate. Once she helped bring down the Druid, then she might think differently.

  Her gaze lifted to the empty chair across from her. Henry had stormed off thirty minutes earlier to disappear somewhere around Dreagan.

  The living area that connected their rooms was one of Henry’s favorite places. His need to blow off steam had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the Fae he was in love with.

  She tossed down the paper and blew out a breath. A second later, there was a soft knock at her door. “Come in,” she bade.

  The door opened, and Nikolai poked his auburn head in. When he saw her, he pushed the door wider and stepped inside. “Alone?” he asked.

  She took in the formal kilt showing his muscular legs and had to admit that he looked damn good in it. Esther licked her lips and looked into his baby blue eyes. “Yes. I really want to find out what the Druid looks like, but every time I read the description Isla gave, I come up with a different person.”

  “Perhaps I can help.”

  Esther stared at his outstretched hand for a heartbeat before she accepted it and stood. He released her almost immediately as he walked out the door.

  She ignored the pounding of her heart. Given what Henry was going through, she was determined not to fall into the same hole. It wasn’t easy, considering hunky men surrounded her.

  They went downstairs, avoiding the areas where the celebration was happening, and entered the library. Esther was surprised to find Isla and Hayden already inside.

  “I didna want to disturb Devon,” Nikolai told her.

  Well, of course, he didn’t. It was her wedding day. Esther smiled up at Nikolai as she came to a stop beside the Druid and Warrior. Nikolai moved to stand before them next to four easels that were covered.

  The Dragon King looked at each of them, his shoulders bunching beneath the tux jacket. Finally, he removed it and ran a hand over his chest.

  Esther’s gaze followed his large hand, noticing the hard lines of his wide shoulders. Their gazes briefly met. She hastily looked away, disconcerted by the flutter in her stomach.

  Nikolai cleared his throat. “I’ve never done anything like this before. My gift allows everything I see to imprint upon my mind so that I can paint, draw, or craft it later. I’ve never tried to read a description and create something until now.”

  Esther looked at the four easels with interest. One of those four could be the Druid. They might actually have a face, and with it, Broc could then locate her.

  Nikolai removed the cover from the first canvas. Esther noted the drawing had everything on the list she’d been reading, but since she’d never seen the Druid herself, she didn’t know for sure. Her head swiveled to look at Isla.

  Isla moved closer to the easel, her brow furrowed. She touched the forehead of the sketch, then the chin. “You’re close, Nikolai, but not quite.”

  Without a word, he pulled the cover off the second canvas. Once more, Isla stared at it for a long moment before shaking her head. The same thing happened with the third canvas.

  Esther focused on the fourth easel. This had to be it. Isla had said Nikolai was close on all the other three. Surely the last one would be right.

  “Ready?” Nikolai asked her and Isla.

  Esther nodded hurriedly, ready to rip the cover off herself. Thankfully, Nikolai didn’t keep her waiting long.

  She gazed at the face for a long time before looking at each of the other three drawings. It looked like almost the same face with only subtle differences, but she knew from experience that subtle was important.

  Esther jerked her gaze to Isla to gauge her reaction. The Druid stared at the picture wordlessly. The seconds ticked into minutes. The anticipation was killing Esther.

  “It’s her,” Isla finally announced.

  Esther wanted to jump for joy she was so excited. She turned to Nikolai, smiling. “You did it!”

  “It’s a start,” he replied, his blue eyes shining with delight.

  But she knew how big of a start it was for them. Because of Nikolai, they could find the Druid who had nearly destroyed her life.

  “Finally,” she said. “Let’s find Con.”

  Nikolai grabbed her hand, halting her. She looked down at his long fingers curling around hers and felt something move between them.

  “Let the others have this night to celebrate their love,” he said softly.

  The argument died on her lips when she gazed into his pale blue eyes. She was so used to only having her work that she forgot others actually liked to have fun. “Of course.”

  She tried to tug her hand free, but he held tight. That’s when she realized Hayden and Isla were gone.

  “Where do you think you’re going, lass?” Nikolai asked.

  With a shrug, she said, “To my room.”

  “I have something better in mind.”

  She couldn’t find the words to refuse him as he led her out of the library and straight to the party.

  Dublin

  Ulrik stood on the Ha’penny Bridge, overlooking the River Liffey as the sun sank into the horizon. The red sky reflected in the water wasn’t what kept him engrossed—it was memories of the events of last week.

  He knew being so near the Druid was asking for trouble, but he hoped to see her in action to better understand just how powerful she was.

  “Still in Ireland, I see,” Balladyn said as he leaned against the railing. “Just can’t stay away.”

  Ulrik braced
his hands on the barrier. “Something like that.”

  “Why did you help Anson?”

  He turned his head to look at the Dark. “Why did you help Rhi?”

  “I had to,” Balladyn explained as he faced Ulrik. “I’d do anything for her.”

  “Because you love her.”

  The Fae nodded. “More than life itself.”

  “That’s a fraction of what a Dragon King feels for his mate. Devon is Anson’s mate.”

  “How do you know?”

  “All I had to do was look into Anson’s eyes when he spoke of her. It’s there for anyone to see.”

  Balladyn leaned a hip against the rail. “But you hate the Dragon Kings.”

  “I hate Con. He’s the one I want to bring down.”

  “Yet the others sided with him.”

  Ulrik shrugged indifferently. “It was Con’s decision. He has to pay for what he did. I’ll no’ take it out on other Kings in the meantime.”

  “I came to tell you that Taraeth has called for your head. He blames you for Muriel’s murder.”

  “Of course, he does.”

  “Every Dark is now looking for you.”

  Ulrik narrowed his gaze on Balladyn. “Including you?”

  The Fae held his gaze for a long moment before issuing a snort. “I wouldn’t be talking to you if I were going to bring you in.”

  “It seems my alliance with the Dark is no longer valid.”

  Balladyn pushed away from the metal and smiled. “I wouldn’t say that. Taraeth’s time has come to an end.”

  “So has Mikkel’s.”

  “It looks like we’ve got a couple of messes to clean up.”

  Ulrik gave a nod. “Let’s get started.”

  “About fekking time,” Balladyn murmured.

  Read on for an excerpt from the next book by Donna Grant

  HEAT

  Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

  It was while he was making up his bed that there was a soft knock upon his door. He didn’t look up as he bade them enter while he bent, tidying the comforter.