Midnight's Temptation dw-7

by Donna Grant

  He looked around at the couples as they sat together smiling, sharing whispered words and silent looks. He’d never been jealous of any of them until now. Until Aisley.

  She’d opened up his heart and shown him something new and wonderful. To know she had done it only to betray him stung his pride like nothing else could.

  As a Warrior, he should have seen through her beauty and words. He should have felt her black magic. It didn’t matter how much he wanted her. He should’ve known.

  He didn’t know how long he was lost in thought until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Phelan looked up to find Laura beside him.

  “We’re all going to rest for a few hours,” she said. “I know you Warriors don’t need sleep, but we do.”

  Phelan nodded and rose from his seat. “I think I’ll … go do something.”

  “You know we’re here for you, Charon and I.”

  “Of course,” he said hastily and looked around at the empty hall.

  Laura patted his arm. “Of course. Get some rest, Phelan.”

  He waited until she was up the stairs and out of sight before he sank back onto the chair and dropped his head in his hands. He had to stop thinking of Aisley.

  “I’d ask if you want a drink, but I can see you need it,” Charon said as he held out a glass of whisky in front of him. “Laura is worried about you. Truth be told, so am I.”

  Phelan accepted the glass and downed the whisky. “I’m fine.”

  “Keep telling the lie, and it’ll eventually become truth?” Charon asked. “I tried it. It doesna work.”

  “You didna crave the touch of a drough.”

  “Nay. I craved the touch of Laura who I thought had no magic at all. Which is almost the same.”

  Phelan took the bottle of Dreagan scotch from Charon’s hand and poured more into his glass. “I want to forget her.”

  “Marcail can take away your emotions if that’ll help.”

  It would, but somehow Phelan wasn’t ready to relinquish them. Not to mention he didn’t want to face Quinn’s wrath when Marcail got sick from helping him. “Nay.”

  “I knew you’d say that.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes drinking.

  “You need to talk to her.”

  Phelan drew in a deep breath. He wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t know Charon referred to Aisley. “Impossible.”

  “It’s no’. I hate to admit it, my friend, but I believe she cared for you.”

  “It was an act.”

  “How do you know? Let Reaghan go with you. She can look in Aisley’s eyes and determine if she’s telling the truth.”

  Phelan chuckled. “I can’t imagine Galen would be happy to put his beloved wife in the same room as a drough.”

  “There are Druids here who can help. Let them, dammit.”

  The frustration lacing Charon’s words was impossible to miss. He knew his friend was just trying to help, but Charon didn’t realize there wasn’t anything anyone could do.

  “I can no’.”

  Charon leaned forward and shook his head. “Damn, but you’re a stubborn bugger.”

  “It’s why you appreciate my friendship.”

  Charon didn’t return his smile. Instead, his dark eyes pinned him. “She changed you. For the good, I might add.”

  “There’s no use buttering me up,” Phelan said with a forced laugh. “I may be a prince, but I doona have a throne.”

  “Joke all you want,” Charon said as he rose and set aside his glass. “You know I speak the truth.”

  Phelan watched his friend walk away. The one thing he and Charon always promised each other was the truth, no matter how hard it was to hear.

  He knew all too clearly how Aisley had changed him. The armor he’d always worn was stripped from him, leaving him bare and exposed. He felt defenseless.

  “Fucking wonderful,” he murmured.

  Phelan stood and slowly made his way up the stairs to his room. There wouldn’t be any rest for him, but at least he could wallow in his self-pity without others seeing him.

  Maybe then he could face them again with some measure of his armor back in place.

  * * *

  A moan fell from Aisley’s lips as she came awake. She’d been having the most delicious dream involving Phelan, the Fairy Pool, and the waterfall.

  The tingling of her skin from the dream faded abruptly as the discomfort from her numerous injuries brought her fully awake.

  She wanted to rub an itch on her nose, but she couldn’t lift her arms, not after Jason had placed dozens of shallow cuts all over her arms, neck, and face.

  Blood pooled beneath her cheek from lying on her side. As disgusting as that was, she couldn’t roll over. Even if she could endure the pain from the rest of her body, the welts on her back from the caning would stop her.

  How much time had passed? Days or weeks? Being locked in the dark dungeon took away all track of time. Aisley wondered what Phelan was doing at the same time she hoped he would find a way to kill Jason.

  “Please, God,” she whispered, then waited to be struck dead for praying. When God didn’t take His wrath out on her, she sent a silent, heartfelt plea to Him for Phelan.

  She wasn’t sure He would even listen, but it was worth a shot.

  “Why don’t you pray to me?” came a deep, eerie voice from inside her cell.

  Aisley’s heart skipped a beat and fear slithered down her spine. “Who are you?”

  “Look.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I can’t. My sight was taken.”

  The sound of cloth moving reached her. A second later, thick, black-soled biker boots came into view. The man squatted next to her.

  The shadows clung to him, but she could tell he was young. He wore dark jeans, a dark shirt, and a black leather jacket. She was able to see his hair was dark and cut short yet she couldn’t see the exact shade. His eyes, however, were easy to see. They were black.

  “Does this form please you, Aisley?”

  Something about the voice made her blood freeze in her veins. “Why do you care?”

  “It’s one of many forms I can take. Tell me what pleases you, and I’ll look the part.”

  An image of Phelan entered her mind. Almost instantly the man transformed into Phelan.

  She closed her eyes, her chest heaving from the sight of him. “Stop it. You aren’t really him.”

  “It’s what you wanted.”

  “No. Just … go away.”

  There was a pause. “I no longer look like Phelan. Open your eyes.”

  Aisley peeked through one eye. When she saw the image of Phelan was gone, she opened her eyes. “Who are you?”

  “You already know the answer to that. Wouldn’t you rather ask what I’m doing here?”

  “I suppose you’ve come to hurt me like Jason has.”

  The man’s chuckle was the most evil sound she’d ever heard. “I’ve come to help you. All you have to do is ask.”

  “Jason pledged himself to you. You helped him come back.”

  “Actually, I didn’t.” The man ran a finger down her cheek, and as he did, he took the pain with him. “Jason delved into places I didn’t think he had the courage to go. He’s helped himself to magic.”

  Aisley took in a deep breath and slowly released it. Without the pain wracking her body she was able to think clearly. She knew the man before her wasn’t a man at all but actually the Devil.

  She also knew exactly what he was asking.

  “I can restore you, Aisley. I can triple the magic within you. I can help you kill Jason.”

  “Why don’t you just take away his power?”

  The Devil smiled. “That would be too easy. I have more … finesse than that, my dear.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you have that passion inside you just as Deirdre did. The difference between you and her is that you’re smarter. Deirdre grew reckless in her long years of power. She forgot who was really in charge.”

&nb
sp; “And I won’t forget?”

  “I won’t let you.” He scratched the tip of her nose that itched. “So, Aisley. What’s your answer? Shall I take away all your pain, grant you more magic than you can imagine, and help you kill your cousin?”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Aisley couldn’t look away from Satan’s black eyes. He was trying to woo her to use as his own. And she didn’t like it.

  “I could make Phelan yours again. You could have him by your side for eternity,” the Devil enticed.

  “He would be evil.”

  “Of course.” The Devil tugged her arm until she was sitting up. “Those damn droughs had no idea how long it took me to lock those gods away in Hell. They were kept in check because they hadn’t been unbound. But Deirdre used them to her advantage.

  “Just think, Aisley. You could command the Warriors. They’re such powerful beings. With Phelan by your side, you could be happy.”

  She knew that was true, but her soul cried out at the thought of Phelan as evil. Yes he had evil inside him, but he wasn’t evil. There was a difference.

  The Devil’s head cocked to the side as he studied her. “Power doesn’t appeal to you, does it?”

  “No.”

  He placed his hand on her stomach. “I could change what nature did to you. I could heal your scarred womb so that another child could grow there.”

  She could imagine the child without difficulty. It would have Phelan’s blue-gray eyes, his determination, and his loyalty.

  Her hands clenched as she yearned to hold such a baby in her arms again, to share the love of a child with Phelan. But it would never be. It could never be.

  She was drough, and though she didn’t believe in prophecies, the Druids on Skye did. Their fear was enough to make her think twice.

  As much as she wanted another child to call her own, she couldn’t have that baby hold all the evil of the world.

  “No,” she said and moved the Devil’s hand from her stomach.

  His gaze narrowed as flames burned in his eyes for a split second. “It’s what you want.”

  “No,” she repeated, her voice stronger. “It can never be.”

  “You’ve no idea what you’re turning away, Aisley.”

  “I do. More than you realize.”

  He unfurled his body to tower above her. “But you’ll take my offer to kill Jason. If you ever change your mind about the babe, just let me know.”

  “You misunderstand me. I mean no to everything.” She couldn’t believe how steady her voice sounded, especially when she was shaking so hard inside.

  “No one refuses me.”

  A shiver raced down her spine at the malice in his voice. “Actually they do. And often. I’m not the one for you.”

  His smile was slow and cold. “You may want to change your mind. At the rate Jason is torturing you, you’ll be mine in a matter of days. Shall I show you what could be in store for you?”

  She shook her head, but it was already too late. An image about three feet tall erupted out of the ground. It was of a woman of stunning beauty whose white hair was shorn close to her head.

  Surrounding her were creatures that were half-human and half-animal. Demons, most likely. Their skin was a muted red and only semicovered their skeletal bodies, and they had elongated jaws with rows of long, sharp teeth that ripped the flesh from the woman’s body.

  The demons used their six-inch claws to slice her as well. Her screams were filled with terror and pain. And just when Aisley thought it was over, the woman’s flesh returned and the demons started again.

  “Do you know who that is?” the Devil asked.

  Aisley shook her head, unable to look away from the image.

  “Deirdre. I warned her to listen to my instructions, but she chose to go her own way. There was an instant when her plan could’ve worked and she took over the world. But the Warriors won. Deirdre then became mine. She’ll be tortured like that forever.”

  Aisley shivered. He was threatening her with the same treatment once she died if she didn’t take his offer. The idea of suffering that way made her want to agree to anything.

  Yet she’d already made so many wrong choices in her life. She was destined for Hell anyway. She wouldn’t make things worse.

  “Find someone else.”

  He slowly shook his head. “You’ll be praying to me soon, Aisley. I know what Jason has in store for you. You won’t survive it. The pain will be unbearable. That’s when you’ll change your mind and pray for me. I’ll be waiting.”

  Without so much as a sound, he and the image of Deirdre disappeared. Almost at once the injuries he’d taken from her returned.

  Aisley closed her eyes and concentrated on taking deep breaths so as not to pass out. She wanted to be awake when Jason came for her.

  * * *

  Phelan smiled as his hand cupped her ass before he caressed up her back. He loved the feel of her skin and the way she responded to his touch.

  “More,” she whispered as he kissed her neck.

  He rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his. Her legs parted easily. He looked into her fawn-colored eyes and knew life would never get better than it was with her.

  With her hands at his side, she urged him to her. His cock jumped, eager to be inside her and feel her wet heat. He angled his hips, and with one hard thrust, filled her.

  She cried out, her nails sinking into his skin. Her back arched, which shifted her hips. He began to drive within her with long, slow movements.

  Her moans filled the room. They urged him on just as her body did. He began to thrust hard and deep, pounding into her as his own desires surged.

  “Phelan now!” she screamed.

  He came awake instantly, his body on fire with need and tangled in the sheets. Phelan jerked the sheets away from his sweat-soaked body with a curse.

  He could still feel the touch of her skin beneath his palms; the dream had been so real. Every time he closed his eyes it was the same. He knew better than to fall asleep.

  Phelan swung his legs over the side of the bed and braced his hands on the mattress. When that didn’t calm him, he rose and walked to the window. He threw it open and took in a deep breath of the sea air.

  He waited until his body cooled before he dressed. A glance at the clock told him he’d only slept for an hour, but it had been an hour too long.

  The memory of the dream would stay with him all day. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake Aisley from his thoughts. Even knowing what she was, who she was related to didn’t help.

  He stalked from his room and made his way down to the great hall. The only one there was Galen who was eating again.

  “You look like hell.”

  Phelan flipped him off. “Nice to see you, too.”

  Undaunted, Galen asked, “Want to talk about it?”

  “When I’m dead.”

  “Charon told us about you being a prince.”

  Phelan stopped on his way to the kitchen. He turned and walked back to the table and stared at Galen, who sat across from him. “What do you want to know?”

  “Nothing. I know you’ve never been comfortable here or around us, but I hope you know you’re always welcome. We’re your friends, Phelan.”

  He looked away and blew out a harsh breath. “Aye, I’m a prince. I’m some rarity in my family. It makes no difference.”

  “Really?” Galen said and pushed away his empty plate. “Why do I get the feeling it makes you feel even more alienated from others than before?”

  Phelan made sure Galen wasn’t touching him and using his power to read people’s thoughts. This was one of the reasons Phelan didn’t like to come to the castle. Everyone was always in his business. The fact they were usually spot-on only irritated him further.

  “What of it?” he asked as he looked at the Warrior.

  “We’re all different. It’s what makes us individuals. You can no’ take the blame for what your family did for you. It’s
what families do.”

  Phelan rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable hearing Galen, but even more awkward because he wanted to talk about it. “I didna know what they sacrificed.”

  “Children rarely do of their parents. They’re no’ supposed to. You were no’ supposed to. It’s the way of things.”

  “Is it? How do I know? What family have I been around to learn these things?”

  Galen stood and walked around the table. “This family. You’ve seen and experienced it without even knowing it. You’ve seen us sacrifice, but more importantly, you’ve sacrificed.”

  Phelan was about to argue that point when Galen held up a hand.

  “It’s true,” he went on. “How many times have you willingly helped one of us heal with your blood? How many times have we called for you to aid us in battle? How many times have you protected the Druids?”

  Phelan swallowed, unable to answer.

  “Exactly,” Galen said with a small smile. “You’ve been a part of us since the first time you fought by our side. We’re an unconventional family, but a family just the same.”

  “I’ve been an arse.”

  Galen chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling. “That’s true, but it makes you you. Better grab what food is left over before the others come down. If they ask, I wasna here. Reaghan says I’m eating the others’ share.” Galen snorted and backed away.

  Phelan couldn’t believe he was smiling as he watched Galen hurry up the stairs. He walked into the kitchen to find Charon leaning against the counter drinking a tall glass of milk.

  He met his friend’s gaze and nodded. “I suppose you heard all of that?”

  Charon finished his milk and set the glass in the sink. “Aye. Galen was right about all of it. It took awhile for me to see my place here as well. There are times I still feel like an outsider, but that’s my doing and nothing to do with the others.”

  “Things have changed,” Phelan said. “Wallace is more powerful than ever before.”

  Charon frowned and pushed away from the counter. “How do you know?”

  “I felt his magic, but … I was told.”

  “By?”

  Phelan hesitated. The Fae hadn’t told him he couldn’t tell others about her, but he wasn’t sure if he should. He walked farther into the kitchen until only a few steps separated him and Charon.