Darkness Descends: A Skye Faden Novel

by Alisha Ashton

  And so he remained by her side, guarding her as she slept, marveling over the twist of fate that had brought him such a perfect companion.

  Skye was tormented and complex – a contradiction, an enigma. She possessed inconceivable fragility and unwavering invulnerability at once. She was femininity wrapped in strength beyond anything that he had ever dared to hope for in a mate. Once more, a smile came to his lips, his brow arching in amusement at the thought: and a pup, at tha.

  Her life had been impossibly short in his perception. She was a whelp in need of guidance, commanding an attitude entirely too large for her body, but the wherewithal to back it up. Thankfully, Taran was willful enough to handle her inflexible nature. He was a millennia-weary faol to match her requirements. Let’s face it; no one had ever mentioned that immortality would be so mundane. He was in dire need of the fire and passion that she possessed. He had lost his quality of life longer ago than he could recall.

  Skye had changed all of that with her presence here. She offered a captivating distraction from the inertia that settled in over the fleeting centuries. Instead of the endless precession of days and months and years, Taran was now taking notice of the passing seconds, of the simplest of touches and sounds, of the feeling of her warm skin beneath his lips. The challenge of winning this enchantress’ affections lay before him and he was thrilled at the prospect. Her mind would fight it every step of the way, he knew, but he had gained a great deal of patience throughout the centuries. They had time – an eternity of time to play the game if necessary.

  When the hour approached for her to change again, he so wished that he could prevent it – wished that he could continue this connection between them. Her defenses were down, her mind unable to choke out her heart as it did when she was awake. He offered her comfort and protection in his arms, nothing more. In sleep, she allowed herself to accept it freely.

  Waiting until the last possible moment, he stood from the bed, keeping her wrapped in the sheet as he carried her out into the hall. He smirked as Miko all but turned himself inside-out at the sound of the door opening. Taran’s assurance that she would not wake had failed to deter the young hunter from waiting. Apparently, he had slept with his back against the wall beside the door.

  “Is she okay?” Miko whispered groggily as he climbed to his feet.

  Ah, young Lance, Taran thought fondly as he smiled down at the boy.

  Miko was a good soul, one worthy of the change by any standards. Taran had considered offering him the gift of his bite on more than one occasion, only to recall his own suffering at the loss of his mortality and decide against it.

  Taran nodded in response to the question as Miko fell in behind him, all the while trying to peek over his shoulder.

  “Did she tell you?” Miko asked cautiously, and sighed in relief when Taran nodded once more. “At least she finally told somebody.” His brows drew together when he took a closer look at Skye. “Umm...Tar? What’s up with her hair? And her face?”

  “Hush. Later,” Taran breathed and cast him a warning glare.

  Miko held his hands up in surrender. When a man, a faol the size of Taran told you to shut it, you did just that. In his mind, however, Miko began a count-down until he would be allowed to address the issue.

  They reached the basement and Taran told a thoroughly shocked Miko that he intended to change outside of the cage this time. He gave him the option of bowing out if he wished. Miko pretended to be fine with it, despite taking a mental inventory of how many tranquilizer darts remained in his case.

  Taran entered the cage and knelt with her still cradled in his arms. He placed a kiss on her forehead.

  “Time to wake, wee one,” he urged softly in her ear, waiting for her eyes to begin fluttering beneath their lids. “Skye, love... ya must wake now,” he whispered and found his breath catching in his throat when her blue and yellow eyes slowly opened to gaze up at him. “The change is coming,” he finally managed.

  Her eyes widened in panic.

  “Leave,” she demanded in a startled and hoarse whisper. Even with her mind in chaos, too foggy to realize that he had been, and in fact still was, cradling her to his chest, the fear for his safety was crystal clear. She began pressing her hands against his shoulders, struggling with her remaining strength to make him release her.

  He smiled and nodded in agreement.

  “Aye, love,” he whispered and rested her on the floor, trying to ignore the fact that he had done so with the gentle touch of a lover.

  The image of her in that moment – her hair flowing across the ground beneath her as she stared up at him – was nearly too much to bear. He could imagine her exact expression if he leaned down and kissed her mouth sweetly right then. The surprise, the yearning, the passion... And finally, the instinctive outrage that would flare in her, the backlash of emotion that would effectively destroy all pleasure the gesture could have offered either of them.

  It took all of his will to resist her, to slide his arms from beneath her and let her go. He cleared his throat and stood, aching to stay with her as he walked away. He closed the door and watched as she slowly began to stir.

  There was far less fear in her screams this time when the pain came. He studied her through the bars with intrigue as she closed her eyes and simply endured. She had been through things of this nature before. She had survived unimaginable anguish, simply because there was no other option. Crying did not help. Fighting did not help. This pup had already learned her lessons well. There were instances in life when you had to accept your fate – to realize that what did not kill you, would only make you stronger.

  She clenched her teeth and sat up, drawing her knees to her chest and calming her breathing. Her face took on a look of serene concentration. Her body stilled as she learned the agony that was to be a recurring part of her life.

  “... a’ sabaid mar ghaisgeach...” Taran breathed in awe as he gripped the bars and watched her. After catching Miko’s confused sideways glance, he provided a translation. “I said she fights like a warrior.”

  Miko nodded as his eyes widened at the memory of that night in the club.

  “Tar? Trust me when I tell you this – you have no idea how right you are,” he assured.

  Taran arched a brow at the sudden uncharacteristic severity of Miko’s tone. He rubbed his beard thoughtfully.

  “Perhaps it’d be best if we have a talk aboot tha,” he muttered.

  Conversation died out as a series of pained moans, almost incoherent chants in their rhythm, began erupting from Skye. She was finding her center, blocking everything out and focusing on the agony. She was harnessing it, directing it, preventing it from overcoming her senses. With one final wail, she lay back on the ground heavily, unable to fend off the change any longer. The blackness of her faol coat blotted out every inch of her pale flesh before the transformation had visibly begun this time around. Taran smiled knowingly. Whether she intended it or not, her wish to keep her skin from prying eyes was effecting the transformation.

  With his natural curiosity driving him on, Miko ventured a little closer. He was more confident in the strength of the bars this time around, emboldened by Taran’s calmness despite being so close to the cage. He wanted to see it clearly this time. After all, he was not just learning this for his own sake. There was an entire network of scientists foaming at the mouth to read his report on what he witnessed here.

  Skye’s training was evidently set to be the simplest in the history of the Tàcharain Fhaol Clan. All the things that Taran could say to her, she already seemed to know – be it from experience or instinct. She was not afraid tonight. She had survived this once and knew she could do it again. She had only to master it now. The change was progressing far slower than it had the night prior and it was her doing. She was calming herself and, in turn, her wolf. With Taran safely beyond the bars, she had no reason to resist. She was allowing it to come forth unhurriedly.

  “Tha’s it, love... just like tha,” Taran coa
xed.

  Having finally summoned the courage to step up beside Taran, poor Miko arrived at the exact moment when Skye’s yellow eyes snapped open in response to Taran’s voice. She leapt at the cage, the transformation completing in a fraction of a second. While Miko took a giant step backward with the words “holy mother of... ” tumbling from his mouth, Taran remained as he was. There was no anger in the posture of the beast that stood before him. She was simply staring down at him, studying him... waiting.

  “Tired still, wee one?” He asked with a smile.

  The faol towering over him simply cocked its head to the side. The sedatives were still present in her bloodstream. She looked like it was taking all of her strength to stand. Skye and the wolf within her had yet to connect, Taran knew. She was nowhere to be found in the eyes that stared back at him. The beast however, desperately exhausted by the drugs, was eyeing him with interest. She pressed herself against the cage, squeezing her muzzle between the bars and sniffing at Taran inquisitively. Miko swallowed back his terror as the ancient stood his ground. The beast’s muzzle was now pressed to Taran’s chest while she huffed and let out small growls and grunts. Taran did not move an inch during the inspection. He merely watched, knowing what had caught her attention. She found her own scent on him this night. The hours that he had spent holding Skye had marked him as safe to the senses of her faol.

  “Miko,” Taran called over his shoulder once she had withdrawn her snout from between the bars.

  “Huh?” Miko responded with his mouth still hanging open as he stood a safe distance away. He decided that calm faol-Skye was possibly even more terrifying than vicious faol-Skye.

  “If ya were wantin’ to leave before I change, it’s aboot tha time,” Taran offered as he pulled off his shirt.

  Miko took a breath to steady his nerves and averted his eyes as Taran’s pants fell to the floor. “I’m fine. Just... you know, do your thing.”

  “Suit yerself – but a word to the wise, if ya get scared and shoot me in the arse with one of those darts, ya’d best nah be here when I wake,” Taran warned with a smile. Within seconds, he was standing in faol form once more.

  “Ooohh fuck,” Miko whined as he backed away. His instinctive fear was making it difficult to resist running up the stairs.

  After several moments spent convincing himself that he was not about to be eaten, he finally managed to sit on the table to watch them. Skye’s faol form was still staring at Taran intensely, though she was now looking up at him, as opposed to down. There was no indication that she wished to harm him like the previous night. Miko watched with bated breath as the two beasts continued to stand in silence.

  Slowly... carefully, Taran finally moved to lie on the floor beside the cage. A low growl of warning rumbled from her throat as she watched him. Her body tensed as she prepared to strike if given a reason. He gave her none. Following his lead, she cautiously lowered herself to the ground. Her curled lips and snarls made it clear that, despite her weakened state, she was still willing to fight if the need arose. But she was still so very tired and he was warm and covered in her scent...

  With a low ‘oof’, she exhaled and lay beside him.

  Though the bars separated them, they each pressed closer to one another. After a long stretch of fighting to remain conscious, she finally drifted off to sleep at his side.

  Taran knew that it would likely be safe for him to enter the cage at this point, but he decided against it. He had to earn the trust of her wolf before such close proximity would be tolerated entirely. He resigned himself to the position of guardian, keeping her safe as she slept, just as he had when she was in human form.

  13: Feel

  Skye awoke slowly with her hands clutching at warm fur. She smiled and nuzzled closer, mistakenly believing that she was once again under the protection of the wolves. The unspoken words were there as before to soothe her; so clear to her senses: I am here. Do not be frightened. Rest now. I will protect you.

  She sighed contentedly and opened her eyes, but confusion instantly set in. Black fur filled her vision instead of gray; there was cold concrete beneath her instead of a soft bed...

  And whatever she was nuzzling against, was triple the size of a wolf.

  When a horrified gasp escaped her, the beast’s head came up. She nearly fainted as her current situation dawned on her. She had been sleeping stark naked, caged, and curled up beside a massive faol beyond the bars. She scrambled backward away from it frantically, her eyes wide and unblinking as she took in the absolute enormity of its form.

  The beast climbed to his feet, eyeing her reaction with interest.

  She snatched the sheet from the floor, pulling it over herself as she backed to the far side of the cage. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she pressed her body against the bars.

  “Taran!” She shrieked, sensing his presence somewhere close by. She was too afraid to be angered by her cries for his help in this, too frightened to curse that she was seeking him out for protection.

  Answering her plea in a way she definitely did not expect, the beast bowed its head to her. Its form shifted and changed. Within seconds, the transformation completed to reveal Taran as he slowly rose to his feet before her. There was simply no way to mask the astonishment on her face. Not only had she been cuddling with a freaking werewolf, but said werewolf had just transformed into the devastatingly sexy, impossibly muscular, and entirely nude Scotsman himself.

  “Aye, my love,” he answered with a sly smile.

  She exhaled sharply in disbelief. Her eyes were still bulging and jaw was damned near touching the floor. With every ounce of self-restraint she possessed, she fought to keep her eyes locked with his. Alas, her eyes had different plans.

  Lower... she really, truly was trying, mind you. Lower... this was entirely his fault. Lower... and why did he have to be grinning so damned knowingly as she lost this battle? Lower...

  Holy mother of...

  Feet thundering down the stairs caused them both to turn, which was a good thing. If she had been allowed to keep up that battle any longer, she might have injured herself – be it by slamming headlong into the bars trying to reach him, or by swallowing her tongue.

  “Skye? What’s wrong?” Miko called as he raced down the steps.

  When he spotted Taran, he nearly tripped over his own feet skidding to a halt.

  “Ugh!” He cried in disgust and quickly covered his eyes. “For fuck’s sake! Again?” He growled as he turned his back on Taran’s naked form. “How many times am I going to have to repress the memory of you strutting around the castle bare-assed? I swear I’m sending you every one of my therapy bills when I get back to the States.”

  Taran merely smirked in response.

  Skye was too busy to find Miko’s discomfort amusing. You see, those uncooperative eyes of hers had wandered back to Taran. She was currently taking advantage of the distraction Miko’s arrival had provided. His ranting was giving her ample opportunity to discretely admire the glorious expanse of Taran’s full frontal nudity.

  The transformation had not caused him to cry out in pain. She assumed that he was accustomed to it after so many centuries. It did, however, apparently still take a bit of exertion to achieve – for every inch of his blessedly toned physique was covered with a sheen of sweat. It took all of her willpower not to let a breathy sigh escape her lips at the sight.

  If she had been a dog (all right, fine... if in that moment she had been a dog), she would have been panting her ever-loving ass off. A man had no right to look so good. It simply was not fair. There should be laws prohibiting a male body from inflicting such arousal with its mere existence. She was not touching him. She was not standing within fifteen feet of him, yet she had somehow lost the powers of speech and thought. Motor functions were failing her and breathing was fast becoming an issue.

  “It’s like the friggin ‘Full Monty’ around here!” Miko declared angrily and sidestepped to the table, groping around blindly for something
to toss in Taran’s direction.

  He came up with a blanket and Skye suppressed a whimper at the sight of Taran’s muscles, every blessed one of them, tensing as he caught it. Taran shook it out behind himself and she tore her eyes from his body just in time to find him turning his face back toward her. He gave another of those damnable ‘and yes, I know you were staring’ smiles as he wrapped it around his waist. She shifted awkwardly, avoiding his gaze as he approached the cage and unlocked the door.

  “How are ya feeling, wee one?” He asked.

  She had to look down at the floor in an effort to keep her eyes from his bare chest and stomach.

  “Better, thank you,” she barely managed. Her voice cracked and quivered despite her attempts to speak in a calm, cool, I’m-not-fighting-the-urge-to-jump-your-bones tone. The fact that she knew the sexy bastard could hear her thundering heart did not do much for her charade of unaffectedness.

  He nodded and stepped to the side slightly.

  With a smirk, he motioned for her to exit the cage... through the narrow space in front of him.

  She arched a brow before taking a deep breath and forcing her feet to move.

  No big deal, she thought, I can do this. I mean, it’s only a bare chest, after all.

  Oh, but holy hell what a chest it is! Who am I trying to convince with this ‘no big deal’ stuff? Of every opponent I’ve come up against, this man’s glistening pecs are, without a doubt, the most formidable. I’ve never had such an irrefutable impulse to touch something.

  She clenched her jaw and slid past him.

  The world slowed in her perception the instant their bodies were all but pressing together. Her eyes closed for that fraction of a second. She inhaled deeply despite herself.

  She could taste his sweat and skin once more, hear his breathing and the beating of his heart, sense his gaze upon her...

  The fact that she emerged on the other side of the bare-chested blockade without incident gave her cause for inner celebration. Had she been alone, she might have broken into an all-out victory dance. Resisting something as tempting as Taran was worthy of an award in any female’s book – well, either that or an intervention because seriously, who would want to resist him?