by Donna Grant
“Not completely inactive,” Fintan pointed out. “It protected Ettie.”
Baylon cleared his throat. “Well, I for one am glad it’s gone. I didn’t want to be anywhere near it.”
“None of us did,” Talin said.
Ettie leaned against Daire. “Is it over? Is Bran gone?”
“He’ll be back,” Cael said. “But for now, it’s over.”
Daire wrapped an arm around her. “You can’t remain here.”
“Then who’ll protect the sword?” she asked.
He looked up at Cael. “I think the sword guards itself. If it wanted to be with Bran, it would’ve gone to him.”
“Daire’s right,” Cael said.
Ettie held out her hand and tried to call for the weapon. She tried for several minutes before she lowered her arm. “Now what?” she asked.
With a nod, Cael and the others teleported away. Daire turned to Ettie and smiled down at her. “The decision is yours. We’ll keep your sisters safeguarded until we can end this threat with Bran.”
“Where are Jamie and Carrie?”
“I don’t know exactly where Fintan took them, but we need only ask him.”
She licked her lips. “All right.”
“You can stay here if you wish, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Bran will return.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“Come with me.”
She glanced at the ground. “With you?”
“Yes. I want to make sure Bran can’t get to you, but I also want to see more of you.”
“Do you?” she asked with a grin.
He smoothed her hair back from her face. “I . . . well, I have feelings for you.”
“What kinds of feelings?” she pressed.
He looked up at the stars, feeling a bit sick to his stomach. He hadn’t wanted to put anything into words. Not yet, at least. They barely knew each other, but the one thing he did know above all else was that he wanted Ettie in his life.
His gaze lowered to her. “I care about you. Deeply. In fact . . . I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you.”
“Pretty sure?” she asked as a blond bow arched.
“Certain. I’m certain,” he amended.
She nodded and took a step closer to him, placing her hands on his chest. “So, if I told you that I’m certain I’ve fallen head over heels in love with you, you wouldn’t freak out?”
“Freak . . . ?” His heart pounded in his chest as happiness and excitement filled him. “No, I wouldn’t freak out at all.”
“You sure?”
It was then that he saw the teasing light in her blue eyes. He tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Certain of it.”
They shared a smile before she released a deep breath. “What will Death say?”
“I don’t know. Whoever that black sword belongs to is powerful enough that you being able to wield it means something.”
“I have a feeling that will only work if I’m here.”
“Exactly,” he said. “There’s something important about this land, which means you’re valuable. Even if that weren’t the case, I’d fight to keep you with me.”
She ran a finger along his lips. “Why?” she asked in a whisper.
“Because with you, everything makes sense. It’s like I can finally understand things.”
“As if the glasses have come off and you can see clearly,” she offered.
“Exactly.”
She smiled. “I feel the same. Complete.”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, she stepped out of his arms and walked into the cottage. Daire followed her inside and found her standing in front of the cabinet. She unlocked it and opened the doors before she reached inside for something. When she turned around, she was holding the jar of dirt.
“I know what this is.”
He frowned and walked to her. “What?”
“It’s this land. It’s dirt from beneath our feet.”
Daire took the jar, rolling it around as he stared at the dark earth within the glass. “The residual magic I feel is from the sword. But how did your ancestors know to take this?”
“Probably the same way I knew what the dirt was.”
“The sword talks to you?”
She shook her head, her forehead crinkling. “It’s more like a feeling. Like the truth has always been there, but I can see it now that I’ve held the sword.”
“I think you’d better keep this with you,” he said as he handed her the jar.
Ettie tucked it against her. “It needs to be somewhere safe.”
“I know just the place.” Daire held out his hand. As soon as she placed her palm against his, he teleported them to Inchmickery.
Chapter Twenty-one
Safety was something she’d always taken for granted, but Ettie learned the true meaning of the word after Daire teleported her to Inchmickery.
She knew how powerful Bran was, but not even that dampened her spirit on the small isle. A fierce winter storm battered the fort. The winds howled, and the rain lashed the buildings, but Ettie didn’t mind. She explored the rooms while watching the interaction between the Reapers and their women.
For the first time in days, she was able to breathe easier because she knew Bran couldn’t get to her or her sisters. Jamie and Carrie were also at the fort, but they wouldn’t remain much longer.
Ettie smiled when she felt Daire move up behind her before he wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back against him and covered his hands with hers.
“You don’t have to watch your sisters,” he said.
She looked into the room where River was reading one of her books, and Cat was talking to Jamie. A moment later, Carrie walked in with a tray of tea and biscuits.
“I like watching,” Ettie said.
Daire rested his chin atop her head. “Are you going to be all right with your sisters leaving?”
“It’s time. It’s been time.”
“You’ll be able to see them whenever you want.”
She turned around in his arms and looked up at him. “I know. I’m really fine with Jamie and Carrie setting out on their own together.”
“Cael found them a nice place in—”
She put her finger over his lips to stop his words. “My sisters will be safe. They’ll have a life.”
“Bran could come for them eventually.”
She dropped her hand to his shoulder and shrugged. “I don’t think so. He had his chance to get the sword, and it didn’t work.”
“He won’t give up that easily.”
“No doubt you’re right, but he’ll go about it another way. Now that the land is vacant, he’ll search for it himself.”
Daire bent and gave her a soft kiss. “But that’s a worry for tomorrow.”
“Is it really okay that I’m here?”
“Yes.”
She raised a brow. “And Death? How does she feel?”
“She will no doubt wish to talk to you.”
Ettie smiled. “Should I be worried about her visit?”
“I’m not going to lie, Death is intense. But she’s also fair. Cael said she’s away right now.”
“Does she not want to fight Bran for her magic?”
“That’s what we’re doing,” he said.
Ettie glanced at her sisters over her shoulder. “While Death gets weaker, Bran gets stronger. We need something that can beat him.”
“I think we found it. Or, rather, you did.”
“The sword,” she said with a nod. “I’ve been wondering about that. I don’t know how it appeared. I didn’t even think about it.”
He took her hand and led her down the corridor. “I believe it’s attuned to you. It’s why it appeared when you needed it most.”
“And you think I can do that again?”
“It’s worth a try.”
“That it is. Anything to put Bran back in the Netherworld.”
A muscle jumped in Daire’s jaw. “I don’t think he’l
l survive what we have planned for him.”
She glanced into the room where Cael, Fintan, and Baylon were deep in conversation. Then she looked up at Daire. “Bran is a murderer. He deserves whatever is coming to him.”
“And I get to do all of it with you by my side,” Daire said with a grin.
“Do the girls really want me to start training them?”
He leaned against the wall and nodded. “Neve will be with the Reapers, so she can’t train them. You, however, can.”
“Because I’ll be staying behind to guard them and this place.” It was a heavy burden, but she willingly and happily took on the responsibility.
“Damn, you make me proud.”
She beamed up at him. “It seems everyone is busy.”
“So it does,” he said with a sly grin.
There were no words needed as they hurried through the hallways to the room he’d claimed as his. They shut the door behind them as they came together, their lips meeting as the passion took them.
Ettie didn’t wonder or worry what the future held. Why would she when she was in the arms of someone like Daire? He was everything to her, and the fact that she was now part of the war only completed everything she’d trained for.
This is what she was meant to do. And Daire was who she was supposed to be with.
“I love you,” she said as he kissed down her throat.
His head lifted as he looked at her. “Together, we face whatever comes our way, bound by our love.”
“Together.” She threaded her fingers into his long, black hair and gazed into his eyes.
“Bound.”
She pulled his head down for a kiss, sealing their words as effectively as if they were vows. Because they were.
Epilogue
Six days later . . .
Every morning, Daire woke smiling. How could he not with Ettie by his side? Though he was beginning to worry about why Erith hadn’t paid them a visit. She always did after a mission, and this one had been particularly interesting because of the black sword.
Daire left Ettie sleeping and made his way to Cael’s office. He found their leader sitting on the sofa with one arm resting on the back while he stared at the opposite wall. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Cael sighed and swung his head toward him. “A lot.”
“About Erith.”
“Even more.”
“Should I be worried that she’s not come to talk to Ettie?”
Cael lowered his arm and sat forward. “I don’t know.”
“Should we call for her?”
“It wouldn’t do any good.”
Daire frowned as he took a step farther into the room. He stared at Cael a long moment as realization dawned. “You’ve been calling for her.”
“A few times, yes. She’s either unable to answer, or unwilling.”
“I’m not sure which is worse.”
Cael ran a hand down his face. “I have a bad feeling about what’s to come. We’ve thwarted Bran again, but these small victories are getting us nowhere.”
“You think something bigger is coming.”
“I feel it in my bones. We need Eoghan. We need Erith. Both are missing.”
Daire felt as if he’d been sucker punched. “What do you mean Death is missing?”
“Do you have another word for her absence?”
He didn’t. Daire blew out a breath. “Erith will always do her own thing. If she’s not answering, I have to believe it’s because she doesn’t want to. As for Eoghan, he’s out there.”
“Then let’s find him.”
“What about Bran?”
Cael got to his feet. “Eoghan is our priority now.”
“About damn time,” Daire said with a smile, eager to begin.
* * *
Bran walked the O’Byrne land. Despite his considerable power and magic, nothing he’d done produced the black blade. For the past twelve hours, he’d tried every spell, every command he knew, to no avail.
The sword, it seemed, had a will of its own.
Ettie was with the Reapers—Daire in particular. Jamie and Carrie were also missing, though it wouldn’t take much for him to find them.
In order to deliver the final blow to Erith, he needed her blade. He’d believed it would be easy to obtain. Not once had he considered the O’Byrnes to be any sort of roadblock. Yet, that’s exactly what they’d been.
But there was always more than one way to get what he wanted. As elusive as the black blade was, it would eventually be in his grasp.
“Enjoy your time, Erith,” he said. “It’s coming to an end.”
He called up the journal page and read her words as more of her magic flowed into him.
* * *
Eoghan was huddled with his head down and his back against what felt like rock. Since he could see nothing but darkness, he wasn’t exactly sure what he touched.
But even without any light, the being that hunted him could be felt. So far, Eoghan had kept just out of its reach. He didn’t remember how he’d come to be on the realm, or who had bound him for the beast.
For all he knew, he could be blind.
Eoghan lifted his face, wishing to feel the sun upon his skin. There was no doubt in his mind that Cael and the others searched for him. But not even that gave him hope that they’d find him.
He didn’t know how long he’d been on the realm. He should be searching for a way out, but his days were spent staying one step head of the thing that hunted him.
Eoghan stood and looked behind him. The beast’s search was bringing him closer. Eoghan hurried away, tripping over rocks. He winced when he scraped his skin, but he kept moving.
He didn’t know how long he walked before he heard it. The sound was so faint at first that he almost thought it was only in his head. He kept moving towards the noise, and as he did, it grew to a soft whisper . . . music.
A violin to be exact.
The melody was haunting, evocative. Its melancholy sound moved Eoghan’s very soul. An inner voice urged him to seek the source. He told himself it was to better hear the tune, but he knew there was more to it.
Like a golden thread that shimmered in the night, he followed the music.
Read all of the Dark Kings Novels
Darkest Flame (Volume 1)
Fire Rising (Volume 2)
Burning Desire (Volume 3)
Hot Blooded (Volume 4)
Night’s Blaze (Volume 5)
Soul Scorched (Volume 6)
Passion Ignites (Volume 7)
Smoldering Hunger (Volume 8)
Smoke and Fire (Volume 9)
Firestorm (Volume 10)
Blaze (Volume 11)
The Dark Warriors Series
Midnight’s Master (Volume 1)
Midnight’s Lover (Volume 2)
Midnight’s Seduction (Volume 3)
Midnight’s Warrior (Volume 4)
Midnight’s Kiss (Volume 5)
Midnight’s Captive (Volume 6)
Midnight’s Temptation (Volume 7)
Midnight’s Promise (Volume 8)
Midnight’s Surrender (Volume 8.5)
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant has been praised for her “totally addictive” and “unique and sensual” stories. She’s the author of more than thirty novels spanning multiple genres of romance including the bestselling Dark King stories. The acclaimed series features a thrilling combination of dragons, the Fae, and Highlanders who are dark, dangerous, and irresistible. She lives with her two children, a dog, and four cats in Texas.
Want to know when Donna’s next book is available? You can sign up for her newsletter at www.DonnaGrant.com, follow her on twitter @donna_grant, or like her Facebook page at facebook.com/AuthorDonna Grant.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Epilogue
About the Author
Copyright Page
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
“Dark Alpha’s Night” Copyright © 2018 by Donna Grant.
All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Jacket by Patricia Schmitt; couple © Wisky/Fotolia; smoke © Toson/Fotolia
Author photo © Yvette Michelle Portraits LLC
eISBN 9781250138125 (ebook)
First eBook Edition: March 2018
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