Primal Temptation

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Primal Temptation Page 21

by Sydney Somers


  The lines between Lucan’s eyes creased, but he didn’t stir.

  He’d fed from her.

  The memory of it drenched her mind in images and emotions that swirled beneath her skin, warming her from the inside out. She’d never felt anything like it, the pleasure bone-deep, marking her heart.

  She was in love with him—and he still didn’t know.

  Careful not to disturb him, she slipped from the bed and dressed quietly. She needed space, room to think, to breathe without feeling like the pain in her chest would crack her wide open.

  Downstairs, she passed the Fae sitting near the door, his head bowed. Meditating again?

  Starving, she fed her rumbling stomach, her hunger seemingly endless. Because she’d offered her blood to Lucan? Once she’d stuffed herself with cheese, meat and fruit, she walked outside.

  She had no idea how long she’d been out of it, which she liked even less than knowing it was the second time the games had put her out of commission to heal.

  Through the trees she spotted Nessa and the enchantress. She mentally tightened her hold on the cat, anticipating a reaction toward Seva like the last time in the training room.

  Her feline half didn’t so much as raise a hackle at the enchantress doing yoga next to the pool. Her earlier possessiveness of Lucan seemed to have abated. Another side effect of what happened in the catacombs?

  “I still don’t get how you guys can make people want each other,” Nessa said from the edge of the pool where she sat with her legs in the water.

  Seva moved into another pose. “We can’t.”

  Nessa noticed Briana walking toward them, but kept her conversation with the enchantress going. “Sorry, but I’ve got the wolf bites to prove it.”

  The enchantress arched a brow. “Our magic can only heighten an attraction that already exists. The deeper the connection, the more effective the magic.”

  Nessa scoffed. “So you’re telling me that even though one of your skanky sisters hit Pendragon’s with the stuff, the only people that really got it on…” she trailed off, gesturing for the enchantress to fill in the blanks.

  “Already had a connection in place.”

  “Not a fucking chance.” Nessa stood, snatching up a towel behind her.

  Something—a spark of hope—kept Briana from denying the possibility as quickly as Nessa.

  The enchantress straightened. “Rhiannon herself tried to make a deal with me once to make a human fall in love with her. If my sisters or I can’t even accommodate a goddess willing to pay the highest price, do you think we’d waste time doing it for free at a third-rate immortal bar?”

  Ignoring the dig at Pendragon’s, Briana kept a fierce hold on the excitement building in her stomach and pressed for more information. “So you’re saying that the magic that was used can’t make someone want you who didn’t already.”

  “Exactly.”

  Either the enchantress was lying to her, or Lucan had.

  But why?

  He’d been so quick to point out that he hadn’t wanted her enough all those years ago either. But he hadn’t been free then, not while being pledged to Gwen. And since then he’d repeatedly mentioned being bound to serve Rhiannon.

  Was that why he’d lied? Because he wasn’t free to be with her? She turned away from the others, scared to consider the possibility. How many times could she let herself believe that things were different only to have reality slap her in the face?

  “Briana?” Nessa called out.

  “I’ll be back in a while.” She hurried back inside, climbing the steps two at a time only to freeze outside her bedroom door. What if she was wrong? What if the enchantress was just trying to rile them up?

  The cat prowled beneath her skin, forcing her to face the possibility that she’d stayed in the competition to free the wrong person. If Lucan really wanted to be with her, and if he won…he could be free of Rhiannon.

  Don’t go there.

  Every protective instinct cried out for her to go back downstairs, but she didn’t move. What if she’d been so determined to stay to save herself from the madness of the Forgotten she’d let Lucan convince her of a lie?

  Lucan was still asleep when she closed the door behind her. Halfway to the bed, she hesitated. If she was wrong and he told her all over again how much he didn’t want to be with her…

  Believe.

  Torn between her mind and her heart, she paused next to the bed already knowing which part of her would win.

  “Lucan.” Her voice refused to rise beyond a whisper. She brushed the hair away from his forehead.

  He grabbed her by the throat, his fingers clamping down until she couldn’t breathe.

  She clawed at the hand holding her, kicking out as he opened his eyes. Lucan’s forest green eyes stared back at her.

  No.

  Twisting hard, she fought to break the hold. He rose from the bed, and she felt her feet leave the ground as he held her away from him. She shook her head. Lucan wouldn’t hurt her, couldn’t hurt her.

  Her lips moved soundlessly, and she thrashed, needing to get free, to breathe.

  Black pooled into Lucan’s eyes and his hand fell away from her, and she hit the ground.

  Her teeth snapped together from the impact, air rushing into her lungs so hard she coughed uncontrollably, her claws scraping the floor.

  Movement from the corner of her eye sent her scrambling backward. She slammed into the wardrobe, her eyes never leaving the wraith as he crouched in front of her. He reached a hand out, and she turned her head, flinching at the gentle touch.

  “Neither of us was in control.”

  It took a moment for the words to sink in, the roar of both the cat and her heart thundering in her ears. Her eyes slid shut. Nothing made any sense. Lucan wouldn’t hurt her, she knew that, but he’d been the one to grab her, not the wraith. Yet it was the wraith watching her now, insisting someone or something else had been responsible?

  What the hell was going on?

  “I want to talk to Lucan.” A raspy sound that she knew had to be her voice made it past her lips.

  “Impossible.”

  Clinging to the edge of the wardrobe, she forced her shaking legs to hold her. “You won’t let him have control.”

  The wraith shook his head, something that might have passed for sympathy crossing his granite expression before he turned away.

  “Why not?”

  The lower half of his body was already slipping into its phantom form. “Right now, he would kill everyone in here if I did.”

  More confused than ever, she took a step after him, needing to understand what just happened. “Why would you care?”

  “I wouldn’t.” He offered a grim smile. “But you would.” Without another word he vanished through the door.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Pan’s shadow is still stalking you, I see?”

  Briana didn’t look over her shoulder to check that the wraith was there. He was always there. For two days he’d shadowed every move she made in the house, refusing to give Lucan control.

  The phantom presence had everyone on edge, Briana included. She wasn’t any closer to figuring out what had triggered the attack, and if the wraith had figured anything out, he wasn’t sharing.

  Kel had been the only one to see the bruises on her neck before they’d healed, but he hadn’t commented. He was careful, though, to give the wraith a wide berth.

  Nessa had been the first to assume Lucan’s thirst for blood had triggered the loss of control, and Briana hadn’t bothered to correct her. Either someone in the house had found something that could manipulate Lucan into hurting her, or the gods had orchestrated the whole thing.

  There was also the slim possibility that Rhiannon had been trying to reestablish her control over Lucan.

  Until she knew one way or another, Briana planned on watching her back in case it had been an indirect attempt to remove her from the competition. She was hardly the biggest threat in the games,
but there seemed to be layers to the Gauntlet that had yet to be revealed.

  “How do you stand it?” Nessa continued, dropping next to her. They sat outside in the shade of one of trees without getting too close to the temperamental vines that twisted around the limbs, a constant reminder of what happened in the catacombs.

  Briana shrugged. “He’s not that bad.” She resisted the urge to check how close he was or if his eyes had returned to normal. She wasn’t sure if the wraith preferred his phantom form to intimidate everyone or to prevent her from seeing too much.

  Elena floated on her back in the pool. “I know I’ll be keeping my distance next round.”

  “B’s not into letting others do her fighting for her,” Nessa put in.

  The icy kiss of the phantom’s presence licked over her skin, and she knew as well as he did that Nessa wasn’t assuming as much as she was asking. The wraith’s presence was getting to the huntress, too, then.

  The only one who seemed unconcerned with the wraith was Vaughn. He dozed in one of the lounge chairs by the pool, his body twitching now and then.

  “Think he’s dreaming about chasing a rabbit?” Elena quipped.

  “Or you,” Nessa laughed.

  Elena rolled her eyes. “I’d sooner be duct-taped to a lawn chair and forced to watch a Duck Dynasty marathon.” She shuddered as though both scenarios were equally disturbing.

  Aware of the wraith trailing in her wake, Briana walked over to Vaughn. Remembering all too clearly what happened with Lucan, she kept out of arms reach, nudging his leg with her knee. “Vaughn.”

  He bolted upright in the chair. “No! Don’t kill her!” He gripped the arms of the chair, a sheen of sweat covering his face.

  “Hey.”

  His head snapped around, and he blinked a few times before running a hand down his face. “B?”

  Elena snickered. “Somebody’s been eating too many Scooby Snacks before bed.”

  Briana ignored the sorceress. “Bad dream?”

  “I guess.” As if he sensed that she’d listen if he wanted to talk about it, he shook his head. “Whatever I was dreaming, it’s gone now.” He didn’t quite meet her eyes.

  In the pool, Elena cocked her head but made no further cracks. She came out of the pool, tossing Vaughn a towel before using the one on her chair to dry off.

  Vaughn’s jaw tightened, but Briana couldn’t tell if the response was related to the sorceress or the nightmare. Throwing the towel back, he walked toward the far courtyard.

  Unsure whether to try talking to him or giving him some space, she went with the latter. He knew where to find her if he felt like talking about it.

  “He’s strung tighter than one of Pavlov’s dogs waiting for the dinner bell to ring.” Elena’s comment lacked her earlier teasing as she watched Vaughn walk away until he disappeared from view. “Can’t you just pace like most people?” she snapped at the wraith. “All that creepy gliding is making me twitchy.” She plopped down on one of the chairs.

  If the sorceress noticed the wraith circled her more closely, she didn’t waste a breath pointing it out. Nessa grinned though.

  On her way across the courtyard, Briana noticed the Fae walking in her direction. The wraith was almost on top of her by the time she stopped in front of Bran. She hadn’t been able to get him alone since the catacombs. Although some of the details remained foggy after the cave-in, she did remember one thing she’d been meaning to ask him about.

  “How did you do it? How did you control the vines?” Controlled them to a point anyway. She wasn’t sure they hadn’t turned on him right before Elena had brought the roof down on their heads.

  “When a magician reveals their tricks it ruins the magic.” He walked around her, or more specifically, around the wraith. “I’d be careful with that one during the next competition.”

  She watched the Fae leave, felt the wraith’s gaze linger a beat longer than her own. “You don’t trust him.”

  “I trust no one.”

  “And me?”

  The wraith said nothing.

  “You can’t protect him forever,” she said when the darkness in control of Lucan turned from her.

  Inky shadows solidified into Lucan’s form. Three clipped strides brought him within an inch of her, and she tipped her head back to meet the soulless eyes that weren’t as unfeeling as the wraith would have everyone believe.

  “How long are we going to do this?”

  No response.

  “I want to talk to Lucan. Please.” She didn’t want to beg, wasn’t even convinced it would sway the bloodthirsty mercenary in front of her, but she couldn’t keep waiting for the wraith to relinquish control whenever he felt like it.

  “Why did he lie to me? I know it wasn’t the enchantress’s magic. His feelings for me are real. They’ve always been real.” Saying it out loud, embracing the possibility as truth, finally loosened the chokehold on her heart.

  The wraith turned away from her.

  “You can’t play dominant personality forever. He’s stronger than you.”

  “His humanity makes him weak.”

  “No, it’s gives him the strength to make harder choices. Ones even you can’t make.” Like trying to end his existence to prevent others from dying, or worse, staying in control so there was no needless suffering.

  Baring sharp teeth, the wraith snarled at her. Then vanished from sight.

  For the first time in two days she was alone, but as much as she’d provoked him, she knew the wraith wouldn’t stay away for long.

  Neither the wraith nor Lucan had reappeared a few hours later when the gong sounded, signaling the start of the next competition. She found a map in her room, next to a full length mirror. The glass shimmered, awaiting her to cross the veil. At the bottom of the crude map, she noted the combination of random letters that made up four words she couldn’t decrypt.

  A cipher? She flipped the paper over, hunting for a clue as to which letter was the key to decoding the words. Finding nothing, she studied the map again. She didn’t recognize any of the landmarks.

  Setting it aside for now, she strapped a dagger to her calf and grabbed the sword she’d taken from the weapon’s room. There was a good chance neither weapon would crossover with her, snatched away on a god’s whim, but she’d rather take her chances.

  Readying herself, she grabbed the map, her gaze falling on the fuzzy reflection of it in the mirror. She frowned, tracking the landmarks on the reverse image.

  “Caerleon Canyon?” The mountainous region east of the barren lands was sparsely populated, the terrain too troublesome for most to reside in that part of Avalon. Before Camlann, a few dragon clans had favored the area, but even they’d moved on as far as Briana knew.

  She checked the map three more times before feeling confident she was headed to a destination in that region. Having tracked a missing gargoyle through the area centuries ago, she easily held an image in her mind as she stepped into the mirror and through the veil.

  Like walking through cobwebs, the Fae magic washed over her as she emerged on the other side.

  A brisk wind snapped across her cheeks, tugging at the hair she’d pulled back in a ponytail. Towering trees lined the trail leading down the gorge that served as the first landmark on the map. Beyond that, a steel-gray sky, thick with clouds, promised snow.

  The cat’s tail snapped playfully at the thought of pouncing through piles of white fluff. Another time maybe. She planned on reaching the valley at the base of the gorge long before the first flakes fell. A forest then stood between her and whatever waited at the oval marked in the middle of the map.

  Three steps. Maybe. That was as far as she got before she felt the wraith behind her.

  He paused beside her, his black gaze tracking something on the horizon. “Do you know the way?”

  It would be pointless to argue about him following her. Until her earlier comment about him protecting Lucan, she hadn’t succeeded in convincing him to leave her alone. Under other
circumstances she might have felt better about someone watching her back, but if someone or something had gained control of Lucan and the wraith once before then it could happen again.

  It couldn’t be a coincidence that only days before the Gauntlet there had been other reports of immortals losing control of their bodies. There was a good chance that Maeve and Aren had been responsible, another form of testing to rule out possible competitors.

  Or, the guilty party had been selected to participate in the games.

  Without answering the wraith, she began the downhill trek. Though they moved closer to the valley and the trees grew denser, the chill in the air deepened. She shivered under the cold breeze but didn’t let it slow her down. There was no way of knowing who else had figured out the map and might be ahead of them.

  “I don’t protect him.”

  Briana nearly tripped at the unexpected sound of the wraith’s voice, his words rough, unpracticed. Afraid that if she stopped to talk, he’d change his mind, she kept walking. “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

  “No.”

  She picked her way down a particularly steep section of the trail, waiting for him to continue.

  “I’m protecting you.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt me.” Although she’d been shaken by what happened, she knew the wraith was telling the truth about someone else pulling the strings when Lucan had attacked her.

  “He doesn’t believe that.”

  That didn’t make him right, and she said as much, adding, “And what are you protecting me from exactly?” She didn’t point out the irony of a creature known for death and destruction playing bodyguard.

  The question fell on deaf ears, fraying the already taut threads holding her together. More confused than ever, she pulled the map out of her pocket to distract herself, matching up her current surroundings.

  The code at the bottom continued to stump her. No matter how long she studied the scrambled letters, she couldn’t spot a pattern.

  The ground shifted under her feet, and she stumbled sideways.

  Her hand shot out to grab the nearest tree, the thin branches snapping like dead twigs in her grip. Nothing but air slipped through her fingers, and the world emptied around her.

 

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