9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC

by Unknown

  Saylym shrank from his touch. “Don’t touch me,” she whispered.

  He swallowed hard and looked away from the burning accusation in her eyes. “I suppose I deserve that.”

  He said the words so quietly she had to strain to hear them.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, turning back to face her. “I never meant to hurt you, not like that.” He ached to tell her they’d created sons together, but he didn’t think she was ready to hear this from him. Not yet. She needed time. Hell, he needed time himself to accept what had happened. And what they’d created together.

  “What have you done to me? I feel different. Powerful.” She swallowed hard. “Did I die?” she asked faintly. “I stopped breathing. I felt my heart shudder to a stop.” Her breath hitched in her chest. “I don’t understand. I begged you to stop, but you wouldn’t.”

  Talon’s chest heaved with a ragged breath. “I couldn’t stop. Sometimes the magic is beyond even a waken’s control. I had no power over what took place.”

  “I died! Didn’t I?” Her voice wobbled, broke. “Didn’t I?”

  Damn it. He felt at a loss for words. How could he explain the unexplainable? “I don’t know what happened. It’s more like you were reborn.” His brow creased with concern. “How do you feel?”

  “How do I feel?” She glared at him. “At the moment, I feel like bashing you over the head!”

  “Saylym,” he said softly. “You can’t hate me anymore than I hate myself. I would never hurt you like that if I could have prevented it. You have to understand, I wasn’t in control.”

  She sniffed. “All right. If you must know, I’m sore.”

  For a second he felt as blank as he knew he must look, until she blushed, then he understood her meaning. “I see,” he replied. “I’m sure that’s to be expected.”

  She looked away from him. “I feel a little queasy.”

  “That’s probably to be expected as well.”

  Saylym flung back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed.

  “Perhaps it will pass if you eat something.”

  She glared at him, shaking her head. “You lied to me. I don’t know what you lied about, but I know you lied. Maybe you couldn’t stop hurting me, but that doesn’t excuse your lies. A man doesn’t lie to the woman he loves. You don’t love me, Talon, and that is one of your lies. You didn’t have to tell me you loved me when you didn’t mean it. That’s something I can’t forgive.” She choked back tears. “I’d like you to leave. Now.”

  Talon hesitated. “I’m your mate.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “You’re the man who took…took my virginity. You’re the man who thought it was his right to use me…hurt me…and I don’t mean just physically…but whatever it took to accomplish the goal you set out to bind me to you, but you’re not my husband.”

  She was right, of course. Husband wasn’t quite the right word, but it was as near as she would understand as to what he was to her in this realm.

  “I am, La-Scheme. We are bonded. Handfasted. Whatever name you’d like to give it. We are one. It is a permanent thing. Sex is a part of our life. It’s the glue that will hold us together. The Flaymes appear only during bonding. Beltane comes but once a year. That is the time for conception, but there are all the months in between, and they can be rather pleasurable, if you’ll let them. You’ll get used to it,” he finished with a hint of princely arrogance. He knew as soon as he said it that he’d said the wrong thing.

  Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “I will not get used to it, because it’ll never happen again.”

  “We’ll see,” he replied, fighting to keep his temper under control. “You belong to me and there’s nothing, nothing that can change that.” A chill swept down his spine as the words echoed in his mind, somehow reminding him that the Fates sometimes had a way of making one eat his words.

  Saylym balled a fist against her trembling lips. “I think somewhere, you tricked me. And that is your shame and your loss. I gave you my heart, Talon, but you refused to give me anything in return. You didn’t even want to say the vows that you were willing to give me children, because deep in your heart, you weren’t willing. I’m an Impure, not good enough to be the mother of your children, not even good enough for you to fuck!”

  “That’s not true. I love fooking you.”

  “Shut up!” Why did his accent have to deepen whenever he was emotionally distraught? And why did it have to sound so appealing?

  “You’re the one who brought it up. In fact, you not only brought ‘it’ up, but kept ‘it’ up.”

  She snorted. “It’s just like you to have a one track mind.”

  “It’s Beltane.” He shrugged as if that explained everything. “Saylym, I—”

  “Please,” she whispered. “I need time. Please…go.”

  Talon gave a stiff bow. “Very well. Dawn’s near, but I’ll return tonight. We’ll not spend our nights apart, La-Scheme. No matter how angry we are with one another, our nights will be spent together. Understand, I would do anything within my power for you, but we are mated. The one thing I won’t do is let you go. We need to talk this out.” He leaned forward to brush a kiss against her mouth.

  She jerked back. “We should have discussed these issues before the bonding ceremony, Talon. You knew what was going to happen. I didn’t.”

  He nodded. He refused to lie to her again by not answering truthfully. “Yes. I knew.”

  But not everything. Not everything.

  Though she stiffened and tried to side-step him, he jerked her close and kissed her. His mouth covered hers, hard and demanding. “Mine,” he whispered, setting her free. “And you’re wrong, La-Scheme. You own my heart. You’ve owned it from the first moment I saw you. And I won’t accept it back. It’s yours for all the centuries we spend together.”

  “You don’t love me.”

  “I’m not sure I know what love is, not the kind you mean. I don’t know what the depths of my feelings are for you. This is all just as new to me as it is to you. Like you, I need time.”

  She stared at him, her gaze narrowed and angry.

  With a brief flick of his wrist, he vanished into a cloud of white smoke.

  Saylym promptly burst into tears.

  * * * *

  Talon hated it, but Saylym gave him little choice but to leave her for a time. Alone now in the flat above her shop, he paced, mulling over everything that had happened the night before.

  If he lived to be a hundred thousand, he would never forget the chilling experience of mating with his bride for the first time. It still felt as if a knife had been driven deep into his heart and the blade twisted off and left behind, a cruel reminder of what he’d done to the woman for whom he proclaimed his love.

  Damn, but there had been unforeseen complications with their coupling. By the time he realized something was terribly wrong, it had nearly been too late. He couldn’t tell her how devastated he’d felt. There were no words to describe his grief.

  Maybe one day he’d tell her how he’d breathed life back into her lungs. If Dym had claimed her, he would have gone berserk.

  But how does one fight Death?

  He’d breathed his own life-force into her lungs, started her heart beating, her blood pumping. The moment life returned to her, he knew she was pregnant.

  What was shocking was the fact she’d conceived twins. In all their history, there had never been a dual birth recorded. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from cupping the slight mound of her belly. Placing his hands on her stomach, he’d been thankful for Dym’s generosity. He spread his fingers and massaged gently. Two heartbeats. Both strong and steady drummed against his hands.

  Twins. How was it possible?

  It wasn’t possible.

  This never happened in his race.

  But there was no doubt those two boys lay curled against each other, sleeping in her womb. His sons. His hands had trembled against her belly. The wonder of it was more magical than anything
in their world and it was a humbling experience to magically feel his sons inside their mother’s womb, to communicate with them through magic. Sons he’d nearly lost along with his mate. He’d known instantly what they looked like and he’d realized they’d sent him the mental image. That meant their magic was so powerful they could reach out to him, control at their fingertips and send images to his mind.

  He’d been in awe that their features were identical. They’d inherited his dark coloring. They had his dark hair, and his features. A waken’s features.

  They had their mother’s original tri-colored eyes with his striations of gold rimming the irises. Tri-colored. How very strange. What did it mean?

  He stopped pacing and rubbed his heart. Guilt at what had nearly happened to Saylym chewed away at his mind. If not for Dym, he would have lost her and their precious babes.

  Saylym was right. He should have told her everything, and prepared her for the possibilities of what could happen when they mated.

  But hell, he hadn’t known all the possibilities himself. There was just too much history lost to them. As it turned out, it was unlikely he could have changed anything.

  The terror he’d felt when Saylym stopped breathing would haunt him forever. Even now, his heart slammed against his ribs with panic. He loved her. The thought of ever losing her brought him to his knees.

  Did she love him back?

  Would she love him if she discovered he’d once tried to steal her soul? That he would have forced a bonding with her if she had not accepted him?

  Would she fear him? Distrust him?

  Would he lose her a second time?

  He knew deep in his heart that the terrible answer was yes to every silent question he asked himself.

  He’d asked for her trust, knowing he wasn’t trustworthy.

  Then he’d set her up with lies. He lied when he spoke his wedding vows to her. Everything and every word was a lie. Or at least, if he loved her then, he hadn’t known it for certain, so in fact, he lied when he’d vowed his love to her. Sacred vows and he lied. He hadn’t loved her as he should have loved her. Not then.

  Only when he thought he’d lost her had he realized how much she meant to him.

  He told her to trust him, instructing her in his smug, superior way, then he practically raped her He’d never even asked her if she wanted children. He’d had an itch to scratch, and he damned well nearly destroyed her in the process.

  What if she didn’t want children?

  What if she didn’t want his sons?

  In his superiority, he’d taken the choice from her. But the choice had also been taken from him. Had Katch known all these things would happen? By the gods, the wizard had some explaining to do.

  What if Saylym was so angry she never let him back in her life? Damn it, he refused to contemplate such a thing.

  Talon sat down on the side of the single bed in the flat. He still felt drained of energy. Exhaustion swamped him with its heavy weight. He pushed his fingers through his hair and sighed. Hell! He hadn’t even told her they’d created two sons.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Giles Corey was stripped naked, a board placed on his chest and then—while his neighbors watched—heavy stones and rocks were piled on the board. Corey begged them to place more rocks on him, to have more weight added, so that his death might come quickly. He was pressed to death for refusing a trial.

  ~Salem Witch Trials

  September 19, 1693

  Ru-Noc

  Droth

  City of the wakens

  Topaz made his way up the grand staircase and down the wide corridors. He passed Talon’s room, then Stry’s. When he turned the corner, he caught a flash of familiar white fur.

  Ah, his sweet Persian. Had she followed him to the palace?

  How had she escaped the hex he’d placed over Saylym’s house? He snorted. Females! Indeed, they had their ways. She probably thought to escape him and never return to Sanctuary. She hated him enough to do that to him.

  He hesitated, mulling things over in his mind. His sweet Celine. He wasn’t about to let her get away from him. No matter how many other felines he’d had in the past, Celine was his chosen mate.

  Leave him? Never!

  She could just get that thought right out of her mind.

  Maybe she’d had it in her head to meet another Futhar. Perhaps she was in love with another male. Rage raced through his blood like hissing steam. His Persian? In love with another? Giving her body to another male?

  He’d just put a stop to that right now.

  It had taken him the past two days to catch the fattest rats he could find for his love to dine upon, a gourmet meal, nothing but the best for his Celine.

  But now, his sweet Celine was sneaking around in the palace.

  Ah, but she wasn’t going anywhere. The thing to do would be to breed her this very minute, then take her back to the house at Sanctuary where, by the gods, he’d start searching for a place in the country and put her there. And there she’d stay and like it!

  He summoned his Cloaking Sheath and began stalking his sweet Persian. There she was, pausing to admire her sweet figure in the hall mirror. Ah, but she was beautiful. He panted. He was so hot for his sweet love kitten. He couldn’t wait.

  It had been two days since he’d last seen her. Too long. As always, he turned feral when he went after his Celine. This time, he’d nail her.

  Topaz leapt upon his sweet Persian, riding her to the floor. He clamped his teeth in the back of her neck, holding her still. She shrieked madly, hissing and clawing.

  That was his Celine all right, shrieking and snapping her sharp little teeth at him, but this time she wouldn’t escape. No more games! A warning growl slid from his throat as he turned her into a receptive position, and then with a single, powerful thrust, pushed inside her. “Just relax, cupcake,” he moaned. “This will only take a second.”

  He was buried to the hilt before she could voice a whimper of protest.

  Then she gave an almighty screech. “Ahhhhh.”

  “Hot damn,” Topaz hissed. “You feel good. Hot. Tight.” He panted and thrust harder. He wasn’t called three-thrust-Topaz for nothing. And by the gods, he was damn proud of his rep. Three strokes and his seed jetted within her. Panting, it took him a few seconds to realize his sweet Celine was mewling with pleasure, grinding against his mating rod, and whispering, “More. Give it to me again, stud.”

  Stud? She wanted more?

  He frowned. That wasn’t right. His sweet Celine would never surrender to him this easily. She’d never use a word like ‘stud’ or beg for more. This little female bucked and panted, butting against his big cock like a puss in heat. Aw, no. No! Her tight pussy sent him spiraling into an instant second release. By the time he gathered his wits a second time, he knew he’d made a terrible mistake, but it was too late, the rush of warm liquid shot from him, bathing the Persian with his hot seed.

  Still planted deep inside the female Futhar, Topaz shuddered violently. His cock twitched, then finally relaxed, but he was far from satisfied His body felt as tight as stretched catgut. He not only wanted more of this sweet, hot pussy, he needed more. No, he couldn’t. Something was dreadfully wrong.

  By the gods, what had he done?

  For a moment, he stared blankly at the sweet-faced Persian he’d just made his own. Then breathless, he gasped, “You’re not my Celine.” There was no way his sweet Celine would act like a shameless Alley Cat.

  The female hissed as he pulled out of her tight channel. She whirled and raked her sharp claws down his face, leaving deep furrows.

  Aw, crap! How in hell would he explain another female’s claw marks on him? This crazy pussy had just branded him. She sank tiny needle-point teeth in his chest, leaving a second brand behind, another mark as proof they’d mated and that he belonged to her now. Proof he’d been unfaithful to his sweet, sweet Celine. Gods! But he was in deep shit here.

  “I’m Maxine, lover boy, Celine’s twin.
” She walked her paws up his furry chest. “Who are you, besides the hottest tom on four feet?”

  “Celine’s bond mate. Crap! Oh, shit!” Topaz paced up and down the wide corridor, his body quaking with despair and urgent need. He’d really mucked things up. He’d set his heart and mind on Celine and here he was, in a super-sized mess! A stray Alley Cat his little Persian might forgive, but her sister? Her twin? Never! No way was his little love kitten going to forgive him for this gigantic mistake.

  He stopped and stared at Maxine. She was a tempting beauty. He snorted. Of course she was a beauty. She looked exactly like his Celine. Twin sisters. One hot. One cold. And he wanted both of them. How could he feel like that?

  How could he have known? Celine should have told him she had a twin.

  How unlucky could a Futhar get?

  He was a goner. His neck in a noose. Oh man, he was in such trouble.

  Up and down, up and down, like a caged tiger seeking its freedom, he paced the long corridor. The bars sealing his fate and making him a prisoner grew narrower by the minute. Celine would place a rope around his neck and toss him over a balcony. She’d have him neutered. So what if they hadn’t mated yet. They had an understanding. He’d committed to her. He paused, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his paw. “If Celine finds out I shagged you, she’ll kill me.”

  Maxine stared at him wide-eyed and innocent, a pout on her lovely mouth. “I certainly won’t tell my sister I’ve had a sweet taste of her mate.”

  “You won’t?”

  She rubbed up against him, mewling softly. “I like you. I don’t mind sharing you with Celine. You’ll get fed up with her icy nature fast and desire only me. I want to go with you when you leave.”

  “No.”

  “No? You’re refusing to take me with you?”

  Topaz frowned. “Of course, I’m refusing, Maxie. I have other plans. I want your sister.”