Soul Scorched

by Donna Grant

  Rhi drew in an unsteady breath, unsure of what to do.

  “You’ve no idea of the power flowing within you, do you?” Balladyn chuckled. “I didn’t either until you leveled my compound. We can rule the Dark. You’ve had my heart for years without knowing it, but I’m freely handing it to you now.”

  They stared at each other. The expectant look on his face only confused her more. She didn’t know what to say. So she chose not to speak at all.

  “You know how to find me,” he said before he stepped back through the doorway and disappeared.

  For long moments, Rhi stood staring at the doorway, Balladyn’s words running through her head over and over again.

  She compared Balladyn’s kiss with Henry’s, which had been pleasant. She knew it had been wrong to kiss the mortal, but the way Henry looked at her had been too much. She missed being a part of something special with someone else. Henry was sweet, and he kissed well. Still, she wasn’t one to dally with mortals.

  As for Ulrik—his kiss had been swift. She’d barely realized what he was doing before he pulled back. Which was too bad really. She would’ve liked to know more of his kiss.

  Which brought her back to Balladyn. There was only one other man who stirred such a reaction in her. But her King didn’t want her anymore, and hadn’t for some time. Perhaps it was time to move on.

  Unrequited love was the worst. It killed souls, slowly destroying all hope until all that was left was a hollow shell. A soul that was withered and dry. Like hers. It was also the reason the darkness was able to enter her as it had.

  Just another reason to resent her Dragon King. If there weren’t hundreds already.

  She dropped her face in her hands and let out a shaky breath. There was no way to force love any more than there was a way to stop loving someone.

  But when did the time come to let go of the past? When did she stop longing for what could never be and look to the future?

  Now. Do it now or you’ll never let go.

  Rhi lifted her head and squared her shoulders. Yes. She had to let go now. It was the right thing to do.

  Why then did her heart feel as if it were shattering all over again?

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

  Warrick looked into the fern green eyes of Darcy Allen. She stared calmly back at him, even though he could see the tension in the way she stood. She was frightened, but she was holding it in check.

  Her auburn curls fell around her. Her bearing was that of someone with an old soul, someone who was rarely ruffled. She dragged in a breath and adjusted her purse on her shoulder. Her wide eyes glanced down at his tat, making his skin warm at the thought of her interest.

  Her gaze returned to his face as he took in her beauty. With her oval face, her eyes were what kept his focus, but there was no denying the appeal of her smooth skin, high cheekbones, and plump lips. There was a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose that he found appealing in ways he couldn’t describe.

  “So, these Dark Fae are dangerous. Got it,” Darcy said nervously.

  Warrick realized that once more he’d done something wrong. It’s another reason he preferred to be by himself. Even when he didn’t talk, he made others uncomfortable.

  “Aye. I was going to have a look in your flat, but perhaps that isna a good idea.”

  “Why?” she asked with eyes wide with surprise. “Do you think they won’t venture there?”

  Warrick glanced up at her windows. “They most certainly will. I just assumed you would rather I get Thorn.”

  She rolled her eyes and unlocked her door. “You’re already here. Why make me wait for someone else?”

  Warrick had no choice but to follow her inside. He glanced around to make sure there were no Dark near, even though he knew Thorn was watching the building as well.

  Following Darcy, Warrick tried—and failed—not to notice how her hips swayed as they walked up the stairs. Her legs went on forever, and the leggings that clung to her slender limbs brought his attention to them again and again.

  The woman had no idea of her allure, of how she tempted him. And he was exceedingly thankful.

  “I expected anger,” she shot over her shoulder.

  Warrick jerked his gaze from her shapely behind to her face. “What?”

  A frown formed between her brows as she reached the landing to her door. “For my helping Ulrik. I thought if a Dragon King did come, I would be met with resentment and fury.”

  “What you did is done. There’s no reason to be upset.”

  She made a sound at the back of her throat as she unlocked the door. “I doubt the rest of the Kings feel that way.”

  Warrick stopped her with a hand on her arm before she could enter. He motioned for her to stay put as he pushed open her door and stepped inside.

  It didn’t take him long to look in her studio since the only other room was the bathroom. When he knew everything was clear, he walked back to the door. That’s when he saw the carvings in the doorway. His gaze slid to Darcy.

  “I’m a Druid,” she said with a shrug. “You think I’m going to move into a place and not protect it?”

  “These willna keep the Dark out.”

  Her lips flattened for a moment. “No, I’m going to need something much stronger.”

  Warrick moved aside and let her enter. He glanced at the Celtic carvings. It was rare for Druids to use spells in carvings. However, since she was from the Isle of Skye, it made sense. Those Druids clung to the old ways more so than in any other place in the world.

  He shut the door behind him and took in the flat. Before he had been looking for Dark Fae. Now, he could look his fill at Darcy’s home.

  She liked things simple and eclectic, though she had a taste for a few floral items like an old round yellow pillow with a small floral print atop the frayed cream sofa. There was also a fringed scarf in a soft pink floral hanging on the corner of the armoire.

  Aside from the florals, Warrick found himself liking the gray walls and white trim. There were just three pictures hanging on the walls, but it was the two long sections of dried orange slices hanging from the ceiling near the kitchen window by the sink that caught his eye.

  “I like the smell,” Darcy said as she walked up beside him. “And I like the way the sunlight hits them.”

  Never in all his years had Warrick ever thought to cut an orange into slices, dry them, and then hang them from the ceiling. Just another way the mortals intrigued him.

  “They do smell nice.”

  Darcy smiled and took off her purse and coat. “I suppose it’s a girl thing.”

  It was a mortal thing, but he didn’t bother pointing that out.

  She walked to the small stretch of kitchen countertops. Then she took a deep breath and asked, “Tell me all about the Dark. I need to know how to defend myself.”

  “You saw firsthand tonight what they are. As for defending yourself, if they get near you, it’s over.”

  “They used some magic on me, didn’t they?” she asked angrily.

  Warrick leaned back against the door and shook his head. “It’s no’ magic, exactly. It’s a part of a Fae—Light and Dark alike. Humans are attracted to them. That pull you felt? It’ll happen again.”

  “Surely there are those of us who aren’t affected,” she said, worry tingeing her voice.

  “Those humans are few and far between.”

  Darcy’s fern green eyes narrowed. “You know something else. I can see it in your eyes. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “The only other ones I know who are no’ affected by the Fae are the females mated to a King.”

  “Mated as in…” She trailed off, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

  “Married.”

  She nodded. “Ah. Well, then. Looks like I need to come up with something myself.”

  “You’re against marriage?” Warrick had no idea why the question came out. He waited for her to tell him to mind his own business.

  Instead,
Darcy reached up and touched one of the dried orange slices, before her eyes skated to him. “Not at all. I just can’t see myself married. It’s not like I could tell just any man what I am. Many would think I’m daft.”

  “And the Druids on Skye?”

  “So you do know all about me,” she said with a flat look. She sighed loudly. “It’s a rather long story, but to condense it—there’s nothing for me on Skye.”

  “It could be the safest place for you.”

  Darcy turned so that her back was to the countertop, a hand braced on either side of her. “I left because I didn’t want to be confined. I’m certainly not going to go back knowing that I could never leave that place.”

  “Is it no’ better than death?” He might know the basic facts about her, but he was innately curious as to what made her leave Skye—and why she wouldn’t go back.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to die, which is why I want to know all there is about the Dark Fae. So, back to the topic.”

  Warrick crossed his arms over his chest. “All they want from humans is sex. They kidnap or lure mortals with the promise of untold pleasures. Once a mortal has sex with a Fae, another mortal could never measure up.”

  “So they ruin us for anyone else,” she stated with a twist of her lips. “That sucks.”

  “Aye. The Light Fae have banned having sex with humans, but it still happens. When it does, they’re careful to only have sex once.”

  “That one time is all it takes, isn’t it?”

  “Aye.”

  Darcy slumped back against the counter. “That’s good to know, I guess. How can I tell who a Light Fae is?”

  “Their beauty. And you’ll recognize the same pull you felt tonight.”

  She nodded slowly, as if filing it all in her mind. “And the Dark? I gather they don’t have sex with us just once?”

  “They live for evil. Remember that. They can use glamour to disguise their eyes and hair, but there’s no denying the appeal they have. If nothing else, you’ll be able to recognize that.”

  “Glamour. Got it.”

  The more he spoke, the whiter she became. Her voice and words said she was doing fine, but her demeanor and pallor said otherwise. Warrick almost stopped. Then he remembered why he was there. “Perhaps I should give you time to digest what I’ve told you so far.”

  “No, please,” she urged, her gaze beseeching him. “Finish.”

  He hesitated for a moment. Then he said, “The Dark take a person and never release them. The females are known to be gentler with the men, prolonging their lives for years. The males have no compunction. For each time a Dark has sex with a mortal, they drain that mortal of their soul.”

  “How didn’t I know about them?” Darcy said as she hurriedly walked to the sofa and sank onto it, her head buried in her hands.

  Warrick dropped his arms and moved closer to her, though he didn’t get too near—even when his fingers itched to wind a curl around a digit.

  She lifted her face and speared him with a look. “Do the Druids know of the Fae?”

  “No’ many do. Corann does.”

  “Of course he does,” she said tightly.

  “I’m sure there are reasons your elder didna tell you about the Fae. We know of them because they tried to take over the realm and we fought them for centuries.”

  “Did you lose? Is that why they’re still here?” she asked, her voice pitched higher.

  Warrick ran a hand through his hair. “We won, but we allowed the Fae to remain on this realm with the understanding that we protected humans and that they didna try to live here. The Dark were quiet and smart in how they began to take over Ireland.”

  “They actually suck out the soul?”

  Her face was pinched in fear and worry, sending a peculiar feeling though him that he couldn’t quite name. “The Dark females only take a wee bit at a time. They like the idea of the humans, and want their men to remain that way as long as possible. The Dark males can go through a woman a night.”

  “I won’t let them get their hands on me.” She rubbed her palms on her thighs and sat up straight. “Now that I know they’re out there, I can prepare. Right?” she asked.

  Warrick studied the Druid for long moments. “You’ve ancient magic from Skye. I doona know if it can deter a Dark forever, but you might be able to find a spell that will give you enough time to get somewhere safe.”

  “I’m not leaving Edinburgh. I briefly considered it when Ulrik told me…”

  She trailed off, which set off warning bells. Not to mention she’d said Ulrik’s name. “What did Ulrik tell you?”

  “Well, he didn’t outright say it, but he implied that I might get a visit from the Dragon Kings.”

  He knew she wasn’t telling him the entire truth, but Warrick recognized that he couldn’t force it out of her. It would have to be something Darcy told him on her own.

  “If you’re no’ leaving town, then you better ward this place and the shop as much as you can.”

  “And you? Where will you be?”

  Why did his heart jump at her question and the hope in her gaze? Then he reminded himself that she wanted to live, and if that meant having Kings around, she would accept it. “I’ll be near, as will Thorn.”

  “I know you didn’t help me because you wanted to, and that’s all right. I’m very grateful that you did, however.” She got to her feet then.

  Warrick took a deep breath and gave the flat one more look before he headed to the door. “Doona venture out again tonight, and be vigilant from now on.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  With nothing else to say, Warrick reached for the door. He opened it and walked out, amazed that for the first time that he could ever remember, he wasn’t ready to leave someone’s company.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

  No matter how hard Darcy looked through her books at the shop, she couldn’t find any known spells that would protect her from the Dark Fae. It didn’t help that she couldn’t stop thinking about Warrick and how he’d saved her.

  The words in the book blurred as her mind went back to the night before and how he stood dripping with cold danger. His wrath was palpable, his loathing obvious. He moved quick as the wind, his motions lethal.

  The Dark Fae hadn’t stood a chance. No one did if the Dragon Kings were angered.

  Darcy closed the book and shoved it aside. She rose and poured herself another cup of coffee and held it between her hands as she leaned back against the desk.

  Sleep had come in snatches during the night. Every sound woke her, because she knew that no matter how many protection spells she put on her flat, the Dark could get through. Not even putting the spell up to alert her if someone came into her flat helped.

  On the walk into work, Darcy had expected—and hoped—to see Warrick. To her disappointment, she didn’t spot him anywhere.

  She took his words to heart, however, and was vigilant. Any man who she suspected might be Fae she steered clear of. Once she reached the shop, she quickly added dozens more protection spells. They would at least give her a bit of time if a Dark did show up.

  Darcy rubbed a hangnail on her finger with her thumb. She couldn’t stand long nails, so kept hers cut short at all times. She might not like her nails to grow, but she was meticulous about keeping them neat. Now that she realized the hangnail was there, it was all she could mess with.

  It didn’t help that her mind was occupied between fear of the Dark and Warrick. The King had no idea how handsome he was. He’d met her gaze evenly, but there was no conceit or arrogance in his cobalt eyes.

  She sighed as she thought of the deep blue color. She didn’t know blue could get so dark, or make her so weak in the knees. There was something about his eyes that trapped her, ensnared her. She could hardly look away, and when she had, it had been down to the hard line of his jaw, his wide lips, and his magnificent body.

  Nudity obviously didn’t bother him as he’d stood in the middle of the
Edinburgh streets uncaring if anyone saw him. She doubted there was an ounce of fat on his body. Every muscle was toned as hard as granite.

  At first glance, Warrick had a reserved look. Yet the more she watched him, the more she discovered how interested he was in everything. He wasn’t obvious about it, but the curiosity was there if someone looked for it.

  Darcy covered her mouth as she yawned. Then she walked to the bookcase that housed the majority of her books. There were a few she’d looked through at her flat, but none had given her information on the Fae or the Kings.

  After another two hours of searching—and three cups of coffee—she slammed the book shut and shoved it back into its spot on the shelf. There was no point in looking online for spells, because they wouldn’t be there.

  There were some Druids who posted spells online, but they were the simple spells for love, money, or the like. What she needed was a grimoire. Too bad she couldn’t get her hands on one, not that the Druids would ever put one together.

  All the Druids she knew committed spells to memory, which left her with nothing. She didn’t want to die, but she couldn’t go back to Skye. The pull that initially made her leave the isle was still there, refusing to release her. If only she knew what she was supposed to do, then she could do it and be free.

  But it wasn’t just that. She had no desire to be back under Corann’s rule. He was a good man, and a powerful Druid elder, but she felt confined on Skye. It wasn’t just the rules she had to follow as a Druid, but the way the elders protected the isle and the Druids limited everyone.

  Most didn’t mind it, but Darcy chafed at it from the moment she realized what was going on. No one in her family understood how the restrictions made her feel. They all tried to talk her out of leaving. The only one who understood was her sister who urged her to go.

  The funny thing was that Darcy still followed the same rules from Skye. That’s when she knew it wasn’t the rules—it was the elders, namely Corann. Now that she knew he consciously didn’t tell her about the Fae, it infuriated her even more. That information could have prevented last night from happening.

  Darcy sat down on the floor and crisscrossed her legs. She placed her hands on her legs and closed her eyes. Meditation had helped her work out problems or spells in the past. There was no reason why it couldn’t work now.