Dark Alpha's Caress

by Donna Grant

  Shock reverberated through her when they went flying like bowling pins. As the two nearest her landed, unmoving, she saw that her magic had torn a hole through their centers. The other three fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

  She advanced on them. She had never felt such hatred before. Sorcha halted next to the first one she reached and looked down at the female who was now missing an arm. The Light had fear in her eyes as she silently pleaded with Sorcha.

  “You wanted to kill my friends,” she told the Light. “Why should I show you any mercy?”

  “Please,” the woman said, her voice filled with agony.

  Sorcha lifted her hand, ready to end the Fae, when someone gently took hold of her arm and turned her. She found herself staring into crimson eyes she knew well. Relief swept through her to find Cathal on his feet. She could tell that he was still in pain, but he was alive and standing before her.

  He said nothing as he cupped her cheeks in his hands and searched her face. She didn’t know what it was that he looked for, and it didn’t matter. She smiled up at him, happier than she ever imagined. Yet, as each second passed, she began to fully comprehend what it was that she had within her grasp. The more she thought about Cathal leaving and never coming back, the more she knew that she would never forgive herself if she didn’t tell him how she felt.

  Just as her lips parted, a shout came from Aisling. Sorcha and Cathal turned their heads toward the female to find the leader of the Fae group and one other teleporting away. When Sorcha looked down at the Fae she’d been about to kill, she saw that the Light had died.

  “You could’ve been killed,” Cathal said. “Why didn’t you stay in the manor?”

  Sorcha cocked her head at him. “I left because I couldn’t let you or Aisling die.”

  “But,” he began.

  Whatever he had been about to say faded as Aisling collapsed. They rushed to the Dark. Sorcha winced as she noted the wounds covering Aisling’s body. Then she looked at Cathal and saw that his were even worse. Sorcha had no idea how Cathal was still standing.

  He checked Aisling’s pulse and then lifted her into his arms. As he stood, his gaze found Sorcha’s. “I’ve got to get Aisling help.”

  “Of course,” she urged.

  But if she’d thought he might take her with him, she was wrong. Sorcha found herself standing alone with only a handful of manor guards still standing. She swallowed and turned around to retrace her steps to the house. She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she return to Scotland? Stay here?

  It was one thing to arrive by teleportation. She couldn’t exactly get back the way she’d come. And she didn’t want to ask her father or uncle for help either. Sorcha decided to walk the grounds and lose herself in the vast garden behind the manor as she thought about Cathal. She didn’t want to worry whether or not she’d see him again. There was a very real chance that she wouldn’t.

  Whoever he and Aisling were, they weren’t normal Fae. She sighed wistfully as she looked at the sky to see the sun beginning its descent. Sorcha wasn’t sure what her life would be like from here on out, but she knew she would never be the same. The person who had locked herself away in her home for a decade was no more.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The moment Cathal arrived on Death’s realm, he teleported straight to the white tower and bellowed for Erith and Cael. The two appeared immediately.

  “What the hell happened?” Cael demanded as Cathal laid Aisling down on a table.

  Cathal rested his hands on the table as he struggled to keep standing. “The Fae group of Others.”

  Erith’s lavender eyes studied him as she frowned. “Sit.”

  “I need to get back to Sorcha,” he said. As he pushed away from the table, the world went black.

  Erith watched over both Cathal and Aisling for the next day as their bodies mended. Cael insisted on helping things along and used his newfound power to heal them. She knew her Reapers would survive, but she couldn’t help but worry. There was more to the story that Cathal hadn’t been able to tell her before he passed out.

  The news that the Fae group like the Others had been responsible for the injury to her Reapers left her furious.

  “How are they?” Eoghan asked as he entered the chamber.

  Erith lifted her head and regarded him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cael watching her. “Their bodies are healing.”

  “But?” Eoghan pressed.

  Cael blew out a breath. “There was something different about the magic used against them. It was…very potent.”

  Potent enough to take down a Reaper. Nothing should’ve been able to do that to her family.

  “They’re here and healing. That’s good news,” Eoghan said. He clasped his hands behind his back. “The rest of my group is eager to locate the Fae responsible for this.”

  Erith shook her head. “Not yet. I’m not going to rush into anything until we figure out what the group is, who is leading them, and what they want.”

  “Seems pretty clear. They wanted to kill two Reapers,” Cael pointed out.

  Eoghan’s black brows drew together. “The only reason Cathal and Aisling were in Scotland was because of the Halfling. Do you think it has anything to do with her?”

  “I think we should ask Cathal,” Cael said.

  Erith’s gaze jerked to Cathal to find his eyes open and watching her. She rose and went to stand beside him. “How do you feel?”

  “Better than before,” he replied as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  Eoghan nodded to Cathal. “Good to have you back. Care to tell us what happened?”

  “How is Aisling?” Cathal asked instead as he peered past Erith to the bed behind her.

  She glanced at Aisling before meeting Cathal’s gaze. “She’s healing quickly. She’ll be fine. Now, I think it’s time you tell us everything.”

  Cathal blew out a breath as he ran a hand down his face. Then he began his story. Erith had known there was something about the Halfling. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have drawn Cathal’s attention. But Erith would never have guessed Sorcha’s connection.

  As Erith listened to Cathal’s story, she realized that he had feelings for the Halfling, especially given the things he wasn’t telling them. She didn’t point that out, and neither did Cael or Eoghan. They waited until he finished his retelling before any of them said anything.

  “She had that kind of power?” Eoghan asked in surprise.

  Cathal raised his brows as he nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It was… pure. I don’t even think Sorcha realizes what is within her grasp.”

  “Did her stepmother know, you think?” Cael asked.

  Erith shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever known of a Halfling who is half Skye Druid. The combination of two powerful families created Sorcha and her magic.”

  “She seemed surprised by it,” Cathal told them. “And based on her story, she never had that kind of magic before.”

  Erith exchanged a look with Cael before she told Cathal, “Sorcha always had that kind of power. It wasn’t until she needed it that she was able to use it.”

  Cathal frowned. “That isn’t true. She could’ve used that power to save her mother and sister.”

  “You misunderstand Death,” Eoghan said. “Sorcha came to your defense.”

  Cathal paused for a moment before he jerked his chin to Aisling. “Not just me.”

  “It was you. Trust me,” Cael said.

  Erith watched the play of emotions cross the Reaper’s face. She wondered if Cathal knew that he was in love with Sorcha. Some Reapers were loud and boisterous, and others were quiet. Usually, it was the quiet ones who had suffered the most. Eoghan had been such a Reaper. So was Cathal.

  As for Aisling, her pain was a hundred times what any other Reaper had ever endured.

  “How long have I been unconscious?” Cathal asked.

  Cael said, “A day.”

  “I need to see Sorcha.”
/>   Erith issued a nod. “I assumed you would.”

  “I’d…I would like…” Cathal dropped his chin to his chest and grew quiet.

  Erith looked at Eoghan and Cael and waited for them to leave. Once she was alone with Cathal, she walked to the bed and sat beside him. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Finally, she said, “I know what you want to ask.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll refuse me,” he said without looking at her.

  In all her time with Cathal, she had never known him to be afraid of anything. To hear him admit that now proved just how much he loved Sorcha. “You don’t want to ask it because I’ve let the other Reapers have the women they love by saying those women have proven themselves to me. By helping us out against Bran or aiding a fellow Reaper.”

  “Aye.”

  “What do you think Sorcha did? Had she not stepped in and used her magic, it’s very likely both you and Aisling might have been killed.”

  Cathal’s head turned so that he looked at her. “You’ve not asked why I didn’t call for help.”

  “Because you knew the Fae Others were after you, and you didn’t want any other Reapers to be hurt,” she said.

  Cathal blew out a breath and nodded. “It almost got Aisling killed.”

  “You don’t just have a team, Cathal. You have a family. You felt that about the others, but I think you’ve come to realize they think that about you, as well.” She got to her feet and faced him. “Sorcha is waiting for you. It’s up to you what you tell her. As for me, you have my blessing to tell her who you are.”

  “What if she says she doesn’t want to be with me?”

  Only a fool would pass up someone like Cathal. In fact, she felt that way about all her Reapers. They had all been betrayed and killed. She had given them a second life, and by doing so, had given all of them—including herself—a family. She would protect each of her Reapers with her very life.

  “You’ll never find out if you don’t go see her,” Erith said with a smile.

  Cathal nodded as he got to his feet. He looked at her and grinned. “Thank you.”

  As she watched him walk out of the room and down the stairs of the tower, she hoped that Sorcha wanted Cathal, as well. No one had refused a Reaper yet. She wasn’t sure what she would do when that time came—because it would. Maybe she could take a page from the Dragon Kings and wipe the person’s memory of anything having to do with the Reapers.

  It was either that or kill the person. Because no one could know about the Reapers or her. It put everything they were and what they did in jeopardy.

  Cael filled the doorway. He leaned a shoulder against it and crossed his arms over his chest. “It looks like we’ve got to find out how the Fae Others discovered the Reapers.”

  “I know,” she said as she walked to him.

  Just when she thought they might have some peace, a new enemy reared its head. And they still hadn’t had any luck finding Xaneth. She was losing hope when it came to the Light Fae. He’d been a friend, and she had promised to find him and free him. Save him from his aunt, Usaeil. However, if she didn’t find him soon, it might be too late for the royal Fae.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sorcha stood in the garden. Her tears had dried. Even knowing that her father was dying hadn’t stopped the grief when the poison finally took him. At the funeral, she’d met his side of the family. She hadn’t been prepared for how large it was.

  At some point, she would have to tell Rhona everything. She’d spoken to her cousin to let her know that she wasn’t on Skye, and while Rhona had asked several questions, Sorcha had asked for some time before she answered them.

  A gentle breeze ruffled the flowers. Sorcha was still getting used to having an entire manor to herself. She’d been content with her little cottage. Yet she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love the manor and the estate. Maybe it was because it had been her father’s and the home he’d wanted to give to her mother. Or perhaps it was because it had been the last place she’d seen Cathal.

  She had tried not to think of him, but it was a losing battle. Cathal invaded her thoughts constantly. She wondered where he was and if he and Aisling were all right. He hadn’t said he would come back. She tried not to hold out hope that he would, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Even with the knowledge that a new life awaited her, she kept reliving the time she’d had with Cathal.

  “You look fetching among the flowers.”

  At the sound of his voice, she stilled, her heart thumping wildly. Sorcha spun around to find him standing behind her. His long hair was pulled back in a queue. All his wounds looked healed, and he had a smile on his face. She wanted to run to him, but she held herself in check. “Apparently, this is my home now.”

  He nodded. “It suits you.” Then he frowned. “I’m sorry about your father.”

  “Thanks,” she said and glanced away. The silence grew awkward, so she searched for something to say. “How is Aisling?”

  “She’s good. Healing.”

  “As did you.”

  He glanced down at himself and shrugged. “You saved us. I still can’t believe you did that. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “After everything you did for me…” she said with a smile. “You don’t ever need to thank me for anything.”

  “I disagree,” he said as he took a step toward her.

  She moved closer to him. “It’s good to see you.”

  “It’s really good to see you.” He took another step.

  Sorcha bit her lip and found herself closing the distance between them. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”

  “I would’ve been here sooner, but I was still healing.” With one last step, he bridged the gap between them. “There is something I want to tell you.”

  She nodded. “Sure. Anything.”

  His lips parted, but instead of talking, his arms snaked out and pulled her against him. The feeling of his lips moving over hers made Sorcha moan. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his, sinking into the desire that erupted between them.

  Unfortunately, he ended the kiss as quickly as he had begun it. Cathal pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes squeezed closed. “You never asked me why I could do all the things I can. You simply accepted it without question.”

  She smoothed her hand down his cheek. “Did you want me to ask?”

  “I don’t know,” he said as he opened his eyes to look at her. “The fact you accepted who I am without question isn’t something I’m used to.”

  Sorcha smiled as she shrugged. “I knew you’d tell me if you could.”

  “I’m a Reaper.”

  She blinked, unsure if she was supposed to know what that was. “All right,” she finally said.

  Cathal took her hand and led her to a bench. He sat and pulled her down beside him. “What I’m about to tell you isn’t something anyone can know. If a Fae discovers this information, Death kills them.”

  “Death.” Now that got Sorcha’s attention.

  Cathal looked away briefly. “I told you about my stepmother’s betrayal and my death. Death comes to some of those who are betrayed after their souls leave their bodies. We’re offered a second life, if you will. We get to live, but we become Reapers. Death is the judge and jury for the Fae, we’re the executioners.”

  “Reapers,” Sorcha said with a nod. “Now, I understand. You reap Fae souls.”

  “Exactly. Most Fae think we’re myths. That’s how Death wants it. If the Fae discover who we are, they’ll try to blackmail us or get us to help them.”

  Sorcha could well imagine that. “Makes sense.”

  “When Death gives us back our souls once we agree to service, we have added power, enhancements to our magic that allows us to do things other Fae can’t.”

  “Like remain veiled for as long as you want,” Sorcha said.

  Cathal grinned. “My life is dedicated to Death and the other Reapers. I obey Death in all things.”

  The
hope Sorcha felt at hearing Cathal’s story quickly diminished. “Are you telling me all of this because you can’t be with me?”

  “I’m telling you this because I want to be with you. I want to spend my life with you. But you need to understand that it’s going to be different. For one, we don’t live on this realm. We live on another that only we can get to.”

  She hadn’t expected that. Then again, it made complete sense.

  Cathal hesitated, his gaze searching hers. “I know we’ve not known each other long, but I know how I feel. If you nee—”

  “I love you,” she said over him.

  He blinked, then a smile broke over his face. “I love you.”

  She flung herself into his arms and held onto him. “I don’t care where I live, as long as I get to be with you.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t know if—or when—you’ll be able to see your family again.”

  Sorcha thought about that for a moment. “This is my father’s home. It’s the place he and my mother were supposed to be. As much as I like it here, it’s not mine. I know it’s my inheritance, but others in the family probably deserve it more than I do.”

  “It was meant to protect you. His wife would never be able to harm you here.”

  Sorcha nodded slowly. “As for Skye, it’s the only home I’ve ever known. It was my mother’s land, and I stayed because I punished myself. I’ve not been a part of the Skye Druids in a long time. And now, knowing that I’m a Halfling…I don’t feel as if I belong there anymore.”

  A slight frown marred Cathal’s brow. “Do you understand that you can’t tell anyone where you’re going if you come with me?”

  “I do. All I’ve thought about these last few days is you and what a life with you would be like. Granted, I didn’t know you were a Reaper, but I don’t care. I want my life to be with you, whatever that entails and wherever that is.”

  Cathal touched her face gently. “I’ve never been happier than I am in this moment. Tell me when you’re ready, and we’ll go.”