Mystik Warrior: (Dark Warrior Alliance Book 2)

by Brenda Trim

  “How is that possible? How old are you?” She couldn’t wrap her brain around what he was saying.

  “I was born seven hundred forty-five years ago, and I know to you that must seem impossible, but supernaturals are immortal. We don’t age beyond twenty-five, and before the Great War, there were countless of my kind that were several millennia old. As for how they traveled back then, there are many powers in the Tehrex Realm. Its inhabitants have always had the ability to travel to foreign lands through portals. There was a time that we could travel to other realms, but that information is in our Mystik Grimoire. My da was the Guild Master and was especially proficient at portals.”

  Cailyn was shocked. There were depths to this fierce warrior and caring doctor that she hadn’t expected. Despite his age, there was something vulnerable about him that one often saw in adolescence. At the same time, he was confident, had immense pride, and a brutal strength that was frightening to see in action. The combination excited and intrigued her. “Your dad must have taught you well because you’re pretty good at portals yourself.”

  Pain and grief ravaged his beautiful features. She expanded her telepathy and tried again to capture his thoughts. It was muddled, but she sensed that he harbored guilt about events that she suspected were out of his control. She had this overwhelming urge to reach out and ease his burden. She was definitely falling for this guy.

  “All sorcerers are good at portals within this realm. It’s the ones to other realms that we can’t access without the Grimoire. In fact, I don’t think there is anyone alive who has done one since my da.”

  “By what you are saying I assume these other realms don’t exist on earth like you guys,” she shook her head at the complexity of this world. “I didn’t realize there were other realms out there. There is so much to learn, but what I really want to know is how you feel about me being your Fated Mate. I know you have all the instincts and you said you aren’t mate material, but I want to know how you feel about it.”

  She watched a million emotions wash over his features as he pondered her question. “Honestly, I have mixed feelings about it. The Goddess made a mistake. I’m not someone who should have been blessed with a mate. You deserve far better than me. It is for the best that you are going to marry another.”

  She wanted to punch him in his gorgeous face for being such an idiot. How could he say that? She must have been a disappointment in bed. He didn’t know her enough to reject her for any other reason. “Maybe you’re right. John wants me and he loves me,” she pushed him away, annoyed with herself for hoping he reciprocated her feelings. She needed to remember that sex for men didn’t involve an emotional attachment. Irritated, she huffed and tried to stand. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hard line of his body.

  “Get one thing straight. I want you more than I want to take my next breath, but there are things about me that you don’t know. I wish I were fit to be your mate but the reality is that I’m not. You are perfect, Cailyn. Beautiful, intelligent, caring, and sexy as hell. I couldn’t ask for more, but we can’t happen.” She lost time staring into those amethyst gems while a million thoughts and feelings ran through her.

  Part of her wanted to smile and throw her arms around his neck. He did care about her, and he thought she was perfect. No one had ever called her perfect. She wanted to erase the pain and anguish she saw. It was heart wrenching to think that he truly didn’t feel good enough for her. A loud ruckus in the nearby kitchen shattered the intimacy of the moment.

  “This conversation isn’t over,” he told her and held her gaze until she nodded an acknowledgement, then turned and tugged on her hand for her to follow him. They walked into the kitchen to find Kyran had returned home bloody, covered in ash, looking like death-warmed-over. The tension in the room was tangible.

  Orlando dropped his spoon into his bowl and surged to his feet, knocking his stool over. “Where the fuck have you been?” he bellowed at the disheveled warrior.

  “Oot killing skirm. What the fuck does it look like?” Kyran replied as he crossed the room and retrieved a bottle of scotch from the pantry. He twisted the top off and tipped it back.

  While he drank deeply, Orlando continued his tirade. “You decide to flip the fuck out and left the Queen, your brother’s beloved, without your protection. What if the demons had arrived and overwhelmed us? Zander should put us all out of our misery and take care of you.”

  The bottle lowered and Kyran disappeared only to reappear right in front of Orlando. He fisted Orlando’s shirt and spat in his face. “Fuck you, arsehole. I doona have to listen to this shite,” Kyran snapped and strode from the room, bottle in hand.

  Orlando leaned his muscular frame against the counter and clasped his hands in front of his stomach. “That went well, I think. So, Jace, Cailyn is your Fated Mate?” Orlando arched an eyebrow in question.

  Jace’s fingers squeezed hers before he leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Yes, she is. The situation is complicated. Cailyn is engaged to another, and there will be no mating.” Cailyn’s heart twisted painfully in her chest and Jace’s soul protested his words.

  “You didn’t tell him?” Elsie asked. Cailyn looked at her sister, pleading her to keep her mouth shut.

  “Grab me a drink to go, Jess. Elsie said there was chocolate in my room, and I need some girl-talk,” Cailyn said, wanting to get out of the room before Elsie spilled the beans.

  “I wonder if matings in the past were all this complicated. The Goddess must be rusty. I pray she takes her time getting to mine. I want simple,” Orlando said as he placed his empty bowl in the sink.

  “You guys solve the problems of your realm. We are going to solve my female problems. Come on,” Cailyn intervened, letting go of Jace’s hand. Knowing it would throw him off her sister’s comment, she brought her face close to his. “You’re right, this isn’t over, Miakoda,” she whispered against his lips then turned and grabbed Jessie and her sister on her way out. She put more sway in her hips and was rewarded with a heavy groan from Jace. Yeah, I get to him, too.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Kyran opened the door to Bite and entered the familiar waiting room. A sexy little nymph sat at the desk talking with another customer. His patience was a thin thread ready to snap. He had been entranced by a feisty human female who made him want to perform acts that were completely foreign to him. He didn’t do tender, normal sex. His entire world was being turned upside down. His desires had followed a certain path from the day he’d witnessed his parents’ murder, and it was a choice he was comfortable with, a preference that excited the predator within. He had embraced his deviancies because they helped him gain power over the memories. He refused to acknowledge Mackendra, or drag her into his hell.

  “Hey honey, your usual?” the nymph drawled, catching his attention.

  He turned around slowly, careful to keep the nightmare at bay. He was close to breaking and needed to release his demons. “Aye, my usual.” He hoped that neither the room nor his regular sub, were currently occupied.

  “Head back and I’ll send Charlotte your way.”

  Thank fuck, Kyran thought as he turned on his heel without another word and headed back to the room. He had worked with the owner, Madame Madeline, to outfit the room with every device he needed during one of his sessions. He turned down the left corridor and reached the burgundy door. He twisted the nob and took a deep breath when he entered the small room. The scent of leather, plastic, and metal reached him, loosening the tight knot.

  He sauntered over to the large wooden cross, noting the smell of bleach and lemon polish. Soon that smell would be replaced by that of blood, sweat, and fear, his favorite combination.

  He contemplated using the cross today, it would provide a sturdy base for his play. The large bed in the corner was too soft for his mood. He selected a paddle, whip and cane. A nipple clamp, vibrator, and butt plug followed. He didn’t know what would strike him in the moment and didn’t want to have to stop mid-session. He
gazed at the kneeling bench, steel stockade, and wooden rack. This was what had kept him sane, not his mate’s soul. Nobody had a fucking clue what his world was about.

  Charlotte walked in in the middle of his brooding, and like a good little sub knelt at his feet, waiting for instruction. She wore a leather corset and had her collar with nipple clamps already on. He tossed the ones he’d grabbed in the corner. “Grab a ball gag and go to the cross,” he ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied. She stood up and selected a ball gag then dutifully walked over to the cross. She fastened one of her wrists onto the wood as he stalked to her and fastened her other wrist. Her whimpering told him he had been rough, but that she liked it.

  He walked around her, each step bringing an image of Mackendra into his mind. Her silky, short, black hair and her full bust were exquisite. She had smelled of orange and vanilla. His cock hardened at the picture and he fantasized about her being on his cross. But she wasn’t the type of female who would submit, and would never be on his cross. In fact, she’d likely be disgusted by his predilections. Hell, the female would stab him in the heart without hesitation if she ever learned what he was. She hated vampires, hunting and killing what she believed were vampires nightly. His anger spiked out of control.

  He reached down and grabbed the paddle then ran it across the sub’s breasts. A harsh tug on the nipple clamps drew blood. He bent and licked the drops of blood from each breast, his hunger rising to the fore, the taste only wetting his appetite. Needing more, he tilted her head, exposing her jugular and sank his fangs into her slim neck. He bit down hard and drank several mouthfuls of her sweet blood. “You want more?”

  The pretty red-haired shifter moaned loudly. “Yes, please sir.”

  His reached down and tugged the silk thong from her body and discovered how wet she was. He stroked her intimate flesh and was for the first time in his life revolted by a female. Disconcerted, he grabbed the anal plug and lubricated it in her juices, not as effective for what he was planning, but then she liked pain. He inserted the plug roughly into her tight opening and she cried out. He felt her body tense beside him.

  “Doona cum or you know I will punish you,” he growled.

  She trembled, trying to hold back. Ruthless bastard that he was, he pinched her clit and drove her over the edge. “Ah, you should no’ have done that.” Leaving the plug in place, he dropped the paddle and grabbed the whip. Several lashes to her breasts had her panting and close again to climax. His strokes came down on her core this time. “Hold it back,” he ordered and like a well-trained dog she obeyed. He breathed deeply of her arousal.

  He ripped open his pants and palmed his erection, but even with her blood on his tongue and scent in his nose he found no real pleasure in his touch. Unbidden, Mackendra’s smirk entered his mind and he recalled her fresh scent and his balls drew up tight. His body had never responded to anything so strongly, and it made him angry.

  He brought stepping stools under her feet and had the sub step up, spreading her legs. He ran a finger through her moisture and crouched, licking her core. She held still like he had trained her, only letting out whimpers. He toyed with the plug while he tasted her. Normally, he would be rock hard, but the moment he shoved Mack out of his mind, he softened. He stood abruptly and retrieved the cane, returning to his position in front of the sub. He penetrated her with the tip of the cane and she sobbed. “Please, sir…”

  “Doona cum, dammit.” If he found no pleasure, neither would she. She cried out and her body shuddered, he ripped the plug from her body and brought the cane across her legs. He lashed out and struck her breasts, abdomen, and thighs repeatedly. Her sobbing took on a pained tone. He thought of Mackendra, and what she’d think of him if she saw him at that moment. She would be disgusted with him, and it pissed him off that he cared. The sub’s cries reminded him of his mother’s rape and murder. Instantly, he was back in that room over seven hundred years earlier.

  Thud,

  Thud,

  Thud.

  A menacing laugh was followed by a wet, tearing sound, thick and obscene, something out of a nightmare. A creature unlike any he had ever seen entered his parent’s bed chambers. It was well over seven feet tall and had huge black horns on its head.

  “Hold her,” the demon ordered his minions. His mother fought back and screamed obscenities at the demon. The demon’s lips pulled back to reveal huge fangs and before Kyran could blink they were in her throat. Kyran shoved his fist into his mouth to keep from crying out. He wanted to run out from his hiding spot and help his mother, but he was no match for the huge creature.

  He closed his eyes. “Please don’t hurt me,” a whispered gurgling plea from his mother. He glanced up to find his mother’s throat torn out. The demon smiled and ran his hand down her cheek. “Shh, bitch. This will only hurt, a lot.” His laughter was filled with evil intent. Then he shredded the green, velvet gown from her body.

  Unable to look away, Kyran watched as the demon grabbed his mother’s breasts sinking his claws in deep and ripping one from her body. He sucked the nipple of the other breast and spread her thighs while she cried. When the demon surged his large, grotesque cock into her body, she turned her head away and met Kyran’s eyes where he was hidden in the wall. As he prepared to surge from the closet to her aide, she shook her head, not wanting him to help her. The demon ripped his mother to pieces as he ruthlessly raped her. Kyran swallowed back his bile and was grateful that the demon took pity and beheaded his mother after he had his fill. No female should live with that memory.

  Back in the present, Kyran realized he had lived with the pain of that memory every day for over seven hundred years, and needed to escape it. Taking two steps back, he surveyed the female. She was bleeding and bruised in several places. He released her from the cross and smoothed his hands over her back as he walked her to the kneeling bench.

  He kissed her neck and brushed her hair away from her face. He grabbed the ball gag and shoved it in her mouth securing the strap. He pushed her forward so she draped limply face first across the bench. He thrust his pants to his knees and gripped his semi-erect shaft. Nothing moved it until he let the sultry orange-vanilla scent enter his mind. When he added Mackendra’s whiskey eyes, pre-cum slicked his head and his spine tingled.

  He maneuvered his body behind the sub and rubbed the head of his cock in her wet slit. They both moaned and he saw whiskey eyes glaze over with passion. He refused to make love to a fantasy of his female and erased those thoughts. The sub’s muffled cries and scent reached him. He went to thrust into her pussy but his cock had deflated. He tried again.

  Nothing, no toy, no play, not a thing aroused him. He may be able to feed, but he couldn’t fuck. He’d rather starve to death. Enraged, he grabbed the cane and brought it down across her ass.

  Crazed, he swung the implement until blood ran in rivulets, and the cane broke over her back. The paddle was in his hand before he knew what he was doing, but that wasn’t enough.

  Hadn’t the Goddess taken enough from him when she took his parents? He was forced to relive the brutal murder and rape of his mother. Now, he couldn’t have sex like he wanted without obsessing about a ridiculous human female. He screamed his rage, and reached for his sgian dubh tucked into a sheath in his boot.

  The sub had gone still at some point, but he was beyond seeing anything. He pulled the female’s limp form to his chest and sliced the blade across her throat, nearly decapitating her. When her head lolled and her sightless eyes gazed at him accusingly, he came back to himself. What the fuck had he just done?

  He snatched his cell phone from his back pocket and called Zander. “Brathair, I need your help. I’m in trouble,” he uttered brokenly.

  “Shite, Kyran, is that you? Where are you?”

  “Aye, ‘tis me. I’m at Bite, hurry and bring Jace.” He dropped Charlotte’s body and was unable to look at what he had done. He pulled up and fastened his pants then walked as far away from the bench as he could befo
re sinking down on the cold tile floor.

  *****

  Jace and Zander walked into a blood bath. Jace rushed to the broken female across the room, slipping in blood as he skidded to a stop at her side. He immediately laid his hands on her throat and sent his healing magic into the wound. Some throat injuries he could repair, but he feared this injury was beyond his ability.

  He looked over at Zander where he crouched in front of an unrecognizable Kyran. He was covered in blood and gore, but the scariest part was the bleak look in his eyes. He realized he was not the only one with skeletons in his closet, and wondered what terrible thing had happened to Kyran to cause him to brutalize an innocent female. Jace was too ashamed to share his own torturous past with his fellow warriors, and imagined Kyran’s must be even worse.

  “She is close to death, Liege. I will try my best, but I don’t think I can save her.”

  Zander threw blazing eyes at Jace. “Do whatever it takes. She didna deserve this.” Zander turned to Kyran and placed a hand on his shoulder. Jace noted the slight tremor as the two connected.

  Jace turned back to the female and kept trying to heal her wounds to no avail. She was gone and nothing was bringing her back. He lowered his head in sorrow. How the hell Zander was going to fix this, Jace had no idea.

  “Liege,” Jace swallowed the lump in his throat, “she is gone. There is nothing I can do to bring her back. What do you want me to do?”

  Zander took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Black had swallowed his sapphire blue irises. He was pissed as hell. “Go and gather Madame Madeline. I need to talk to my brathair.”

  Jace nodded his agreement and left the room like Lucifer was hot on his tail. One thing was certain. Kyran’s issues ran deeper than his own. He shook his head and made his way down the hall, ignoring the sounds of pleasure mixed with pain as he went. When he reached the reception desk, the pretty nymph’s horrified gasp reminded him he was covered in blood.