And he is a fish, at the end of the day.
Just look at his freaky, weird eyes.
Eyes that weren’t as cute right now as they’d been a few moments ago, before the insulting began. Mostly because right now she had a sudden compunction to slap them out of his head.
“Last time I checked, I did possess feminine body parts. Pretty sure you noticed that as well, given what you just did and all. So what has that do to with anything?”
He brushed his hair back. “What if you’re pregnant with me wee spawn?”
“What if I’m not?”
His frown deepened, as did his stern tone. “Cameron, be reasonable.”
“You be reasonable.” She stood up to gather the rest of her clothes and finish dressing. “I’m quite certain I’m not the first woman you’ve been with. In fact, I know I’m not, as that harlot at the party was quite quick to point out. And you weren’t in any hurry to marry her. So why this hurry to rush me to an altar?”
“They were different. You are different!”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it.” It was nice to know that he hadn’t just tupped her without some thought to the matter. Perhaps he even held some true feelings for her underneath that male arrogance that was suddenly getting on her nerves and coming close to proving her brother right. That thought made her much warmer than it should. “But it changes naught, as I’m rather sure you’ve no desire to really marry me.”
“But—”
She placed her hand over his lips to stop his words. “Answer me honestly, Kalder. Do you truly, deeply wish to marry me, or are you only asking because you think it’s the right thing to do, and because Paden would expect it?”
He looked away and she had her answer.
“As I thought.” She dropped her hand.
Were she to ever marry anyone, she could imagine no one finer than Kalder Dupree. His taste and feel would haunt her forever.
But that was no reason to rush headlong into a lifetime commitment that could destroy the fragile friendship they shared.
Not to mention the rest of her life.
And his.
Cameron desired more than obligation for marriage. She wanted real love. A burning, lasting, fiery romance.
The last thing she wanted was to come to hate the man she shared her life with. As insane a notion as it was, she wanted a man she could love for a lifetime. One who respected her and who took her wishes into account whenever he made a decision regarding her, her children, and their life together.
She would settle for nothing less than what her parents had shared.
“You’re not ready for marriage, Mr. Dupree,” she said gently. “And neither am I. What we shared today was wonderful. Incredible even, and I thank you for being me first, and for being so considerate with me body. But it shouldn’t make either one of us do something we’ll come to regret. I want to open up me tavern and settle for a quiet life on shore, and you’re a creature of the sea, on a quest to save the world. What kind of marriage could we have if one of us had to give up our dream for the other? In time, we’d come to hate the other for it and we both know that.”
Still lying on his back while he watched her, Kalder took her hand into his and held it over the center of his chest, where she felt his heart beat a slow and steady rhythm. His grip was firm and binding, her hand pale against the darker tone of his skin and the outline of his tattoos that marked where his fins would spring out of his body whenever he was in the sea. Aye, they were different in every way.
His hard, muscled body was taut with his masculine strength and power. Even naked, he was a force to be reckoned with. One she found impossible to deny.
But she must, for both their sakes.
“And if you carry me spawn?”
“We will deal with that when the time comes. There are plenty of women who have survived the birth of illegitimate children—such as Lettice is doing even as we speak. For now, let’s not rush headlong into disaster. Besides, I can always tell them that I married during me time away and that me husband perished on the journey home.”
Though her solution annoyed him, Kalder was amazed by her as he watched her honest and open stare. Never in his life had he met her equal when it came to courage and conviction.
Any other woman would have leapt at the chance to lay a marriage noose around his neck.
But not her.
Cameron was fair in everything.
He kept her hand in his and reached with his other hand to tease a lock of her dark hair. “You are truly remarkable.”
Her light blue eyes teased him with warmth. “You say that only because you took one too many knocks to the head and your wits are addled.”
He snorted. “Me wits are fine.”
Her smile dazzled him.
And he still couldn’t get over her beauty and grace. Not once in his life had he thought to meet a woman who could tempt him to marriage.
Yet he felt that temptation now.
What would it be like to have a wife this strong at his side?
Forever.
Someone who wouldn’t just submit docilely, but who would question and speak her mind regardless of consequence? Unlike the others of her species, she wasn’t turned by his looks or title. While other women crawled naked into his bed just to boast later that they’d been with him, he knew Cameron would never tell a soul of what they’d shared.
And it was a sharing. Unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.
He felt his body stirring again at the memory of what she’d been like under him.
Cameron’s eyes widened as she noticed him growing hard again. “Seriously? Does it do that a lot?”
Kalder pulled her closer to him. “Only when I think of you.”
Cameron moaned as he captured her lips. He buried his hand in her hair and drew her closer. She felt his fingers splay against her scalp as he held her tightly to him.
Oh, this was heaven. She inhaled the crisp, manly scent of him. Let the warmth of his body seep into every part of hers. She could just melt into him.
Skimming her hand down his lean, hard body, she delighted in the rugged male terrain. She loved the sensation of the thick thatch of hair that nestled his cock. He growled and deepened their kiss as she raked her fingers through that most private area until she could cup him in her hand. His shaft turned rigid once more as she explored it from the very bottom to the tip.
Sucking his breath in sharply, Kalder covered her hand with his and showed her how to stroke him a few seconds before he pulled her hand away. “You’d best stop doing that.”
“Why?”
“Because if you don’t, I’m going to be inside you again, and you’re far too new at this to have me again so soon. It’ll make you even more sore.”
Cameron didn’t feel sore, but then, as he said, she knew very little about this physical side of love, other than what she’d seen or overheard in passing in the taverns. “Have you taken many virgins?” she asked before she could stop herself. “You seem to know much about us.”
“Nay, love. I’ve only had you. But I’ve heard other men talk enough to know.”
She smiled at his confession. Though why it pleased her, she couldn’t imagine. “Who was your first lover?”
He looked a bit startled by her question. “Do you truly wish to know?”
“Seems only fair since you know who mine is.”
He gave an odd half laugh at that. “The Shadow herself.”
Cameron choked on the last thing she’d expected to hear him say. “Scáthach?”
“Aye.”
“So war wasn’t the only thing she trained you for?”
“It didn’t happen the way you’re thinking.”
“How do you mean?”
Kalder sighed and reached for his breeches. “Scáthach had come to me father’s kingdom. I was in Wyñeria when I first saw her. She seduced me there and told me of Dún Scáith”—the fortress of shadows—“and said that if I was man enoug
h, skilled enough, that I should fight me way into her fortress and that she’d train me to be an even greater warrior than me father.”
“And of course you did.”
He winked at her. “Of course I did. Had me reputation to live up to, don’t you know?”
Cameron couldn’t fault the woman for being entranced by Kalder, and she wished she had known him then. Had he been as handsome as a young man as he was now?
“Was she much older than you?”
“Aye, quite a bit, but it didn’t matter. She was still beautiful beyond belief and I was stunned that a queen of her caliber was taken by a boy of me age.”
“And how old were you?”
“I’d just turned ten-and-five.”
Cameron was stunned by his words. “You were far too young for her.”
“She thought not.”
Cameron rolled her eyes at his arrogant boasting. Typical male to say such. “Have you seen her since you left your training?”
“Nay. It’s not how she does things. As her name goes, she’s the Lady Shadow.”
That was what they said, but still …
“Do you miss her?”
“Nay, I barely knew her, even though I lived in her lands for a year. Again, she’s a creature of mystery and likes it that way. I don’t think anyone has ever really known much of anything about her. Not even her children.”
Kalder helped Cameron dress while she reflected on what they’d done, and everything she’d learned about him and his family, and world.
As she smoothed her gown over her stomach, she paused her hand there. Surely she wasn’t pregnant. The women in her tavern were forever carrying on with men, and seldom did they seem to come up pregnant over it. Lettice and Paden had been lovers for almost two years before she’d conceived.…
Even so, the prospect of having Kalder’s baby wasn’t quite as scary to her as it should be. Instead, a part of her that was terrified almost hoped for it.
What would it be like to have a child growing inside her? To see Kalder play father to a child of his own?
He would be a good, kind da, she was certain, like her own father had been to her and Paden. Protective and loving. Patient.
But with that thought came the bitter reminder of what had happened to her father. Of the hard, harsh life he’d lived.
Kalder had even more enemies out to end him.
He’s not human.…
Neither are you.
And that was the most sobering thought of all. Their children would be forever hunted. For his abilities and for hers. They’d never know peace. Or safety.
Instinctively, she flinched away from him.
“Cameron?”
“Forgive me,” she said, forcing those thoughts out of her mind.
She’d been right. There was no hope whatsoever of any kind of future with him. To think of one was all kinds of madness. It was cruel to even entertain a moment’s thought of it.
And to put a child through that kind of nightmare would be the ultimate cruelty. Nay, having been orphaned and forced into hiding herself—to live a lie where she had to conceal something as basic as her own gender—she couldn’t subject her own child to that kind of life.
How could she even think it?
“What is it, ma petite?”
“Nothing.”
He tilted her chin until she looked up at him. “Tell me.”
Cameron never got the chance. Instead, a weird, foreign buzzing started in her ears. One that drowned out Kalder’s voice and left her unable to hear him.
Kalder stepped back as he saw the change come over Cameron. Her skin turned a bright orange. Blackness filled her eyes.
In an instant, he realized what they’d done to her.
“Cameron?”
She couldn’t see him or hear him. She was an Iri … a Dark Seraphia. It was the tainted blood that Vine had used to corrupt her.
“Cameron! Listen to me! You have to focus on me voice.”
But he knew she was past that. This was his nightmare. She was the very thing now that he was sworn to destroy.
Worse, he heard Gadreyal’s voice. “So you’ve finally chosen.…”
“Chosen what?”
“Whose life you value most.”
His heart went still. “Pardon?”
Too late, he realized the trick Bron and Muerig had played on him. That hadn’t been his mother’s ring Bron had returned to him.
He’d felt the cold power of it for a moment when Cameron had placed it on his finger, but their attack had distracted him, especially since he’d drawn power from everyone right after that to escape there. Not to mention, he hadn’t known his mother, so he’d had no way of recognizing the fact it wasn’t his mother’s powers.
“She’s not me offering to you!”
“Aye, but she is. You cling to your past. Wallow in it. Your fears define you, and so you’ve given us your future.”
Disembodied laughter rang out. “A soul escaped and a soul must be returned. Yours is worthless to us.…”
Because it was corrupted already.
Unlike Cameron’s, which was pure and untainted.
The dark clouds returned. Along with the thunder.
“Give us what we want, little fish. Death doesn’t bargain with anyone. Especially not you. And not even with the mighty Thorn.”
14
Thorn’s head throbbed as he watched Bane and his crew of Deadmen making the most of their small hiatus. He envied them their merriment.
There had never been a time in his life when he’d been so carefree. Not even as a boy. Indeed, his stepfather had made certain that no one enjoyed their time in his court. His idea of music had been the agonized screams of those being tortured. His favorite pastime had been feeding children to wild boars.
Given that, he could almost forgive his mother for what she’d done to escape his stepfather’s wrath.
Almost.
Had his childhood not been the Stygian hell it was, he might have mustered a degree of compassion for her. But as it was …
He’d hate her for all eternity.
Most of all, he’d hate himself. His life had never been anything more than one bad decision after another. A choice between being mauled by a lion or devoured by a dragon.
“Are you all right?”
He looked up at Valynda’s question and had to force himself not to wince over the unfortunate circumstances that had made her a member of this Deadman crew. What had been done to her was the cruelest blow of all. Bringing her back in that temporary body to serve in this latest fiasco had probably been the worst bargain he’d ever made.
“You’re wrong, by the way.”
Thorn scowled. “Wrong? About what?”
“This is nowhere near as bad as being dead. I will never be able to thank you enough for your mercy, my lord. Even if I’m never human again, I should rather spend eternity in this body than spend it where I was.”
He wondered if Valynda would always feel that way toward him. Funny thing about gratitude …
Like snow, it never stood up to the test of time. And people quickly forgot all the nastiness it’d swallowed the minute the warm summer of abundance came again and melted the bad memory of the cold snowstorm away. No one ever remembered being out in the frigid wind when the sun was shining bright on their face.
But worse than that, gratitude left a chill on the soul once it was gone, as the person who ought to feel it oft held it against the person who’d once done them the favor.
Aye, gratitude was a double-edged sword that was too often turned against the one who was only trying to do good in the beginning.
Thorn wasn’t sure where the corruption came in. If it was the pettiness of the person who did the original favor wanting more for their sacrifice, or the guilt of the person who received the favor who knew in their heart that they didn’t really give a shit about the person who’d made the original sacrifice, and were only using that person to get something from them
they hadn’t earned.
Either way, he had no use for gratitude. It, much like the balls of a flea, was a tiny useless thing.
But what stunned him was the guileless depth of hers. Valynda actually meant what she said and truly felt grateful to him for what he’d done. Even though that meant trapping her in such a horrible in-between state.
How peculiar.
“You’re a remarkable woman, Ms. Moore.”
“Not really.” She handed him the cup in her hand. “But I should like to think that I’m not a stupid one.”
He smiled at her logic before he tipped the cup to see that it contained wine, and not the blood Devyl was fond of feeding him whenever he wasn’t paying attention to the large, hulking bastard.
“Can I ask you something?”
He swallowed his drink. “You can always ask.” He just seldom ever answered.
“What made you bring me back?”
Thorn started not to answer, but there was something vulnerable about her. Something that reminded him of a girl he knew a long time ago, and it weakened him. Before he knew it, the truth came out against his will. “I owed a favor to a friend.”
“Do you always take such elaborate steps for friends, my lord?”
“No. I normally kill them.”
Her eyes widened at another truth he was shocked to hear leave his lips. Being around him was indeed hazardous to people’s health. They hadn’t once called him the Death Collector for no reason. Mercy and compassion were alien concepts for him.
Just ask his son. Cadegan’s current stint in hell, where he cursed Thorn’s every breath, testified to what a heartless bastard he was.
You save the world, spare all those around you, and yet leave your own flesh and blood to suffer. You are despicable.
From my first breath, to my last.
Thorn ground his teeth and did his best not to think about something he dared not change. The consequences could be too dire.
For all of them.
Valynda eyed him with way too much sagacity for his comfort. “You like to frighten people. It keeps them away from you. You have that in common with Savitar. But even nightmares have things that scare them.”
“I have no nightmares, child.”
He was the nightmare.
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