Obsidian Fire (Raven Queen's Harem Part 4)

by Angel Lawson

  “I never meant for you to be last, you know that, right? It just happened that way. Fate, I think. Like everything else in this house. In the beginning I thought you would be first. You’re so sweet and gentle, but we’re in a war and I needed toughening up.” He watches me carefully as I tug off my sweater and slip out of my jeans. I don’t remove my bra and panties, though. Not yet. “I think this is better. I need you today. Someone safe. Someone solid. You don’t play mind games with me, Bunny, and I appreciate that.”

  He responds again with his mouth and grazes my side with his hand. I continue to kiss him while pulling down his shorts. When I finally get a look at his cock, I stop and blink.

  “What?” he asks in a soft voice.

  “Uh, I don’t have a lot of experience in all this, but your dick is huge.”

  We both look down at the swollen rod between his legs. I reach for the soft velvet of his skin and run my hands down his length. He shudders from my touch, shoulders slumping when I fondle his balls.

  Kneeling between his thighs, I do what I can to make this day a little bit better.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bunny

  The girl between my legs isn’t the same as the one I’d painted on weeks ago. There’s no shyness. No timidity. She’s capable and strong. Confident and secure. Even though it’s clear she had a hard day and is looking to hide from the world, there’s no hesitation as she licks the length of my shaft.

  I work my hand into her hair and cup the back of her head. My brain tells me to make her stop. My natural male instincts don’t agree. Her lips are puffy and her tongue warm. Even though I’ll regret it, I lean back in the seat and for once try to relax in the moment and not overthink.

  Turns out, thinking is pretty impossible when her fingertips skim my balls and I feel the tightening of pleasure. I inhale sharply, fighting the urge to thrust my hips. Then she takes me completely, her head bobbing up and down. I curve my fingers in her curls.

  The ecstasy of the moment rolls over me, making me forget the paintings and the dreams about the dark castle and what waits on the Otherside. I push aside the visions and the blackouts, because this is what I’ve wanted. What I’ve craved. Morgan wasn’t rejecting me. I knew that. I wasn’t last, no matter what the voices in my head said. She swirls her tongue and then her finger around the tip. I swallow back a ferocious groan.

  “Does that feel good?” she asks.

  I nod vigorously. “Please. Please keep going.”

  She smiles, her pretty red lips widening around the girth of my cock. I can’t help but move my hips now, wanting to feel the friction, the warmth along the length of my shaft. My hand leaves her hair and reaches for the satin of her bra. I feel the hard point of her nipple and brush my fingers over the raised tips before tugging down the fabric to feel the round firmness of her breast in my hand.

  This time Morgan shudders, exhaling warmth around my cock. Up and down, up and down she bobs and I’m no longer able to hold back. She must feel my intensity because she increases her pace, sucking so hard that I’m sure she’ll gag.

  She doesn’t. Not even a flinch, and she pushes one hand up my belly and another beneath my balls. I ram into her mouth, hitting her throat until the tight coil of ecstasy unfurls. I feel a click in my brain, a tug, and without warning I pull from her mouth, moving her hand to the base of my cock.

  She frowns in confusion, her lips wet and red, but quickly changes course, sliding her hand up my shaft. I’m already on the edge and hot, gooey, pent-up cum streams across her chest. Her eyes are wide as the jism slides between her breasts. I fall back against the cushion, exhausted and a little lost.

  “So that was—” she starts, but I cut her off. She’s sticky with my cum when I reach for her and pull her mouth to mine.

  “I’ve never done that before,” she confesses, and an odd swelling of pride fills my chest. A tide has turned, something shifted. I feel it in my bones.

  “There’s a first time for everything.” It’s my duty to make her content so I pull Morgan on my lap even though we’re both sticky with sex and sweat. I may not be able to cross that final line with her, I understand that now, but I slip my fingers between her legs and lead her down the pathway to oblivious bliss.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Morgan

  I’m standing outside Dylan’s door but I haven’t knocked. Bunny left my room a short while before and although our time together was amazing, something feels different.

  I’m really not sure why Bunny and I didn’t have sex. I wanted to and I thought easing him into it would help. He was nervous, but I also knew it was time. Each barrier broken between us brings us closer and tonight was no different. But it also revealed something—something I’d been fighting inside myself. With each of my Guardians, I’ve seen them at their most vulnerable. I can’t get the image of Bunny’s red cheeks and glazed-over eyes just before his orgasm. I’d had every intention of having him come in my mouth—I’d done it with the others—but at the last minute he’d pulled away. Why? What was he afraid of?

  I don’t want to see it as a rejection. But over the last few days something has awoken and it’s telling me to be wary. This part of me resides deep inside, past the place where my soul ends and the goddess begins.

  The Goddess. That’s what I’m calling it. Not the Darkness or the Morrigan, they’ve both been banished with the spell. The anger and fear from before is gone, along with the frantic need to consume. I’m left with something different—something I haven’t tapped into. Honestly, I’m hoping I don’t have to.

  My mates still have an important role in all of this, maybe more than I realized. My encounter with Dylan proved that to me. I need these men as much as I always have.

  The Morrigan feels it. I have no doubt of that.

  Which is why I’ve come to Dylan’s room and why I have to tell him what transpired between Bunny and I, or rather, what didn’t. I finally realized we’re a circle. A group. There’s no beginning and no end, except we’re not whole. Not yet, and something—or someone--is keeping my final mate from fully bonding with me, keeping me from full strength.

  I bang my fist on the solid wood door.

  I just hope I’m not too late.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dylan

  “Is something wrong?” I ask straight off. She glances over her shoulder, in the direction of Bunny’s studio. The door is closed, I’d heard him go in not long before. “What?”

  She pushes me into the room, hands flat against my stomach. Her touch sends flares through my body, but the wild look in her eye tells me she’s not here for sex. If I had to guess from the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the scent coming off her skin, she’d recently done that anyway.

  “Morgan.” She shuts the door and I ask again, “What’s going on?”

  I’ve lit a fire in the massive, stone fireplace across the room, warming the drafty attic. Her eyes flick to the small tabletop covered in bottles. The first words out of her mouth are, “Can I have a drink? I could really use a drink.”

  Silently I walk to the makeshift bar and pour her a glass of amber liquid. I hand it to her and lean against the back of the sofa and watch her carefully. She swallows the whole thing in one gulp.

  “It’s Bunny,” she finally says.

  “What about him?”

  She holds out her glass again and I grab the bottle by the neck, refilling it generously. “I need you to hear me out, just let me get this out, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “For the longest time I didn’t exactly understand our mating. Not really.” She holds the empty glass in her hands. “I just knew I didn’t want to choose and that being with each of you felt right.”

  “Choosing one mate was locked in stone. There was never any altering that, but choosing all of us? That was totally you—and it was the right thing to do. It’s how we fought off the Morrigan.”

  “Right. I know that now, but I also know something else. When you an
d I finally, you know…” I’m not sure why she stumbles over these words at times. She’s not inhibited in bed. Or against a wall. But speaking freely about sex and lust is a stumbling block. I blame her Southern upbringing.

  I help her along. “Yes, I know.”

  “I had another awakening after we were together. My words came back—they flowed. Then I learned the truth about Christensen, who he is and what he means to all of us.” Her cheeks are red from the alcohol. “I didn’t need to be told the goddess still resides in me. Even when I pushed it away, I felt her power. But she too is bound to my choice in mates and how you can help me fight the infecting Darkness.”

  “How?” I ask, but I already know the answer. She just needed to find it herself.

  “We’re a circle that will be forged in fire of our lust and combined energies.” She walks over to the fireplace and stares down into the flames. “It didn’t connect until he rejected me.”

  I frown. This I don’t know. “Who?”

  “Bunny. I was just with him and well, things were progressing, but at the last minute…”

  “Bunny can be shy, you know that. He lacks confidence since the injury.”

  “No. I felt it. I felt the moment it shifted. The Goddess knew. I knew.”

  “He chose not to seal our relationship. On purpose, to keep me from fighting at full strength.”

  “That’s a bold accusation.” I’m standing behind her. “It amounts to treason. Bunny is sworn to your service, to your protection.”

  She spins, hair flaring over her shoulders. Her eyes narrow. She’s beyond beautiful. “You don’t believe me?”

  “You’re in charge here, Morgan. I’m your Sentinel. If you think one of the guards has gone off course, I will follow up.”

  “I know he has.” She swallows. “I feel it in my gut. And with the Darkness spreading we can’t have anyone going rogue.”

  “I’ll check on him now and report back.”

  She grabs my arm before I walk off. “I won’t allow any more infection or death under my watch, do you understand that?”

  I nod in understanding and ask her to stay in the studio. She sits in my chair looking less shaken than when she came in. I walk down the hallway and consider that if what she’s saying is true, we not only have a problem but a catastrophic event. Morgan’s perception of the six of us is probably accurate—she needs all of us to solidify the power of the Goddess inside of her. If Bunny has stepped out of line, we’re screwed.

  I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and pause, bracing myself to face him. Instead I see Damien’s shaved head and the glint of his earrings in the dim hallway light.

  Our eyes meet. I ask, “Looking for me?”

  He shakes his head and steps on the landing. “Nah, I’ve been asking Bunny for some indigo for a few weeks. I need it for a project. Figured I’d just come up and get it.”

  “He wouldn’t give it to you?”

  “Kept brushing me off. The one other time I came up, he was gone.”

  “When was that?”

  “A few nights ago.” Outside Bunny’s door, Damien rests his hands on his hips. “His door was locked.”

  Bunny is notorious for keeping late working hours and sleeping most of the day. It’s just about time for him to get up and it dawns on me that he’d been in Morgan’s room when he’d normally be asleep.

  I rub the back of my neck and Damien catches the grimace on my face. “What?”

  I sigh. “We may have a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?” His entire demeanor shifts.

  I raise my eyebrows. “Let’s find out.”

  Damien raps on the studio door. After a moment’s wait there’s no answer, no sound from within. Damien jerks his chin up and before I nod my approval he’s pulled a tool from his pocket and has inserted it in the lock. He fiddles for a moment but the spring triggers and the lock unlatches.

  Before opening it Damien stops me and says, “Are you sure about this?”

  “Morgan sent me. I’m just doing my job.”

  “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He glances down at the tool and keeps it in his hand. The door opens with a soft creak, like all the old hinges in this house. I walk past him, getting the first look of his studio in a while. He’d been quiet lately. I didn’t think much of it with things having calmed down with Morgan and, frankly, being involved in my own personal concerns. What I’d been was distracted and when Damien calls me over to look at the first of a dozen canvases, I realize what a tactical error that had been.

  “What the hell?” Damien says, but I’m stunned speechless. The paintings tell a story. The Morrigan’s story from the Otherside. Her dark castle looms in each one, sitting on a foundation of bone and ash. I’m struck by how real it looks. How I can feel the cold air. Smell the charred flesh. So many lives have been lost at the hand of this vindictive bitch.

  Nearby are another series of paintings. Recognizable locations around New York. He’s captured the same realism. They’re an odd contrast of both worlds.

  A sound captures my attention and I turn and find Damien at Bunny’s work table. He’s picking through the tools and paints. He holds one up and shakes it. A powdery substance moves inside.

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re right. We have a problem,” he says, grimacing. “These aren’t normal paintings. Bunny’s been playing with magic.”

  “How so?”

  Alchemy is not my area of expertise. I’m the historian. “It’s just a guess but this is elder root. When mixed correctly with compounds from this realm and the Otherside, it can be very powerful.”

  “How so?” I take the container from him and open it, taking a sniff. It has a dusty, woody smell.

  “When he mixes it with his paints it fuses with the painting, connecting the two worlds.” He walks over to a painting of the Otherside, a massive depiction of the decaying woods outside the castle grounds. Then he points to one of the modern, local paintings. A train station downtown. There’s nothing notable about it other than Bunny’s skill. “See these lines, the way they arch the same way?”

  I do, now that he’s pointed it out. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “If you enter here,” he points to the station sign. “You’ll exit in there.”

  “Seriously?”

  “With a spell, yes, I think so.”

  I look around the room at all the paintings. There’s an equal number of both. “He’s created gates.”

  Damien nods. “All over the fucking city.”

  “Why?” The realization is almost too big to comprehend. “Why would he do that?”

  “Because,” a voice surprises us in the doorway. “The Morrigan can’t do it without me. Not anymore. So she found someone new.”

  “Bunny?” I’m still shocked. He’s always been the most steadfast. The most loyal.

  “I suspect he had a little help.”

  “From who?” Damien asks, but the pieces are clicking into place.

  “Anita helped him. She’s the one spreading the virus.”

  Morgan nods. “The virus I spread to her. We need to find them and cut off the Morrigan’s reach before it goes too far.”

  Damien and I share a look. We’ve never had to go after one of our own before and Morgan isn’t at full force. I don’t tell her this. He doesn’t either. Our job is to protect her and keep the Darkness away.

  “I’ll get the others.”

  Morgan nods. “I’ll meet you in the training room.”

  “Why there?” Damien asks.

  “Because we’re going to need weapons to kill them,” she replies and walks out of the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  Morgan

  All four of my remaining Guardians meet me in the training room. I’m dressed for battle: stretchy black pants, shin-breaking boots and a leather jacket Damien gave me to wear on his bike. The men watch me as I enter, four sets of eyes skimming down my body. I walk past them and go directly to the weapons case, p
ulling out my blade.

  “You’re taking that?” Damien asks.

  “Yes.” I slide it into the harness on my back, another gift, from Clinton.

  Sam steps in front of me. “You do understand you can’t kill anyone, right?”

  “I understand I’ll do what I have to.” I tug the edge of my gloves higher. “Since we’ve been unable to find Anita, I called in a favor.” I walk across the room and open the door. Hildi stands on the other side, dressed to fight. Her blonde hair is woven in a tight braid.

  “Hello Morgan.” She nods at the Guardians. “Boys.”

  Dylan stares at me so hard I think his brain may crack. Finally he clears his throat. “Can we speak for a moment? Alone?”

  “Sure,” I reply, following him into the hallway. He didn’t dress for a fight but his shirt is tight enough to show the curved muscles over his shoulders. Intimidating to anyone that crosses his path. “Problem?”

  “It’s unorthodox to bring in an outsider for a situation like this.”

  “A situation where I’ve been betrayed by one of my own?”

  He crosses his arms. “Yes. The outside world cannot know we’re having this problem. It’s a sign of weakness.”

  “Hildi is an ally. And is very knowledgeable about the activities of the community.”

  “She’s a gossip.”

  “And my friend,” I say with a touch of warning. “We need her help.”

  “At the risk of sounding disrespectful, Morgan, there are times you should defer to those with the knowledge and experience for handling the situation at hand.”

  “This is common? Traitors? Betrayal?”

  He smiles and it’s so glorious my knees wobble. “Have you learned nothing of the myths surrounding the Morrigan? Betrayal is her forte. Bunny learned from the best.”

  “Fine, but the Valkyrie comes.”

  He starts to argue again but Hildi interjects from the doorway, where she’s clearly been listening. “I’m sent by the Goddess Freyja to choose the dead. I’m aware of your sickness and the looming battles. I can help you find the woman you’re looking for. And the Guardian. Their stench is all over the city.”