Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  She removed him from her thoughts and extinguished the light in her hand. Scrambling for purchase upon his face, she gripped his cheeks as she brought his mouth to cover to hers. She forced her passion, everything she felt for him, though scary in its own right, to the surface. As Darcaryn had unintentionally taught her, she drew his energy from him, , and with it, his love.

  She reached her hands out to her sides and let the power of every ounce of energy they’d created blast from her fingers.

  Light flashed. Energy collided and hissed. The entities around them screamed as if in pain. Heat and cold slapped at their exposed flesh.

  Aedan turned to circle her body protectively with his.

  It didn’t matter. He’d trusted her. Because of that, she’d been able to build upon their joined emotions, to power her magic with them, and to keep it going even after their kiss had ended.

  Tiny explosions went off around them, mingled with the sounds of torment as the light show forced her to close her eyes again.

  All at once, something slammed into them and knocked them down onto their sides. It shoved them off the bed.

  He coiled his body around hers, taking the brunt of the fall as he cried out. Not in pain, but more a war cry.

  Everything stopped.

  “You okay?” He released her as the candles remained lit, their only source of light since the bulbs had all burst.

  As he looked her over, all she could do was nod her head at first.

  “You okay?” she questioned once her voice returned.

  “Sure,” he grunted, letting her know his movements actually hurt.

  “The way you protected me—”

  “You doubted I would?”

  “No. Never. Just another thing to experience it,” she marveled.

  “I love you. I don’t care if I’ve only known you for a week. I’m saying it. I’m not wasting another moment with fear or hesitation.”

  “I love you, too,” she cried out.

  “Hell of a first time?” he joked.

  “I’m sure we’ll never forget it.”

  “Listen, Kyna, maybe you should go back to the US, get your mom and fly away somewhere. Just keep moving until Darcaryn and I get your aunt back, figure this all out. They’re haunting you, and I’m a smart enough man to know when I’m outmatched. I can’t fight things I can’t see or understand.”

  “You just did, or at least helped me to. No! I won’t go. I won’t run. Together, you the brute force, and me the magic, we’ll fight them. Look at the team we just made. And, where did that love idea come from?” she wondered out loud.

  “I’ve read a lot. I don’t really know. Your question sparked some line in a book I’d read,” he shrugged as he spoke. “Let’s get you off the floor. You’re shivering.”

  Cuddled under the covers with her strong protector, she fell into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Waking up, warm and cozy, she felt Aedan 's hand on her shoulder, and his legs pressed down the length of her back. She realized he must be up already, watching her sleep. At the same time, it dawned on her that the sheets were the wrong color. She’d fallen asleep on silky white and awoke on cotton red. Startled, she turned expecting to see Aedan, only to find Darcaryn sitting beside her, smiling like a devil with a virgin to sacrifice.

  “What the hell? Where’s Aedan? Where am I?” she spat abruptly as she thought to look down and see if she wore clothing.

  Last night she’d fallen asleep naked in Aedan’s arms. A small inkling of relief rushed through her as she found herself garbed in her white nightgown. She still had to wonder how she got it on. She simply couldn’t remember a thing past falling asleep in Aedan’s arms.

  “Calm down. Everyone is fine. Aedan went to get a shower this morning, and I got you out of there. You know, I gave you something to calm you down, but maybe I didn’t give you enough,” Darcaryn posed thoughtfully.

  “How? Where am I? You drugged me?” she demanded.

  The heat of her anger woke her up. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Even clothed, she gripped the blanket, the one from her bed, wrapping it tight around her.

  “You’re in a castle owned by the society. It poses as a hotel, helps filter money and give certain people a place to stay when needed. Your aunt is here and anxious to see you.”

  “My aunt? She’s okay then?” Kyna questioned.

  “Perfect, actually. She’ll have quite the story to tell you once you dress for breakfast.”

  “I don’t understand. How did I get here, Darcaryn? Exactly?” she demanded.

  “Simple slumber spell. I got you dressed in that beautiful sheer nightgown I first saw you in. Then, I wrapped you up in a blanket and carried you to the car waiting out front. I have to say you are simply amazing, though. Beautiful. And, I forgive you for sleeping with Aedan.”

  “You’re sick. What the hell? You dressed me! You spelled me! And, you kidnapped me, again! Now you tell me my aunt is here and fine. What’s going on, Darcaryn? The truth! And, for your information, I love Aedan!” she screamed. The sheer volume scratched her throat.

  “You’ll soon change your mind,” he countered as if she’d told him she loved oranges.

  “What, another spell? You’d want someone to love you spelled to do so?” she growled.

  “Wouldn’t be the worst thing, but no, I think you’re going to like all that’s offered to you here.”

  “Doubtful,” she huffed.

  Her mind remained dizzy from the abrupt change to how she assumed she’d wake, wrapped in the protective arms of her lover. Instead, she’d opened her eyes to the demented wizard who’d chosen to kidnap her, and in the castle of a society she’d been told wanted to use her.

  “I want to see my aunt...now!” Kyna stormed.

  She crawled from the bed as gracefully as she could wrapped in a blanket. The idea this monster had seen her naked nauseated her, made her want desperately for a shower. At the same time, she couldn’t get out of this room fast enough.

  “Did you bring clothes for me?” she demanded. She forced the words out as she swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise from the burn in her stomach.

  “No, but I got you some. There are several beautiful gowns your aunt bought for you in the armoire. Pick one out,” he offered, puffed up like a peacock.

  “She picked out gowns for me? What the hell are we going to, a breakfast ball? And what was she doing picking out clothes for me? I thought she was kidnapped, being held in some dungeon somewhere?”

  “Get dressed, silly witch, and all of your questions will be answered. I’ll not explain another thing. Pick a gown,” he demanded. With the last statement, his fake play nice voice had turned to tyrannical.

  “You leaving while I dress?” she snarled.

  “I’ve seen every inch of you. No need for modesty now,” he barked back.

  He was dressed in a black suit today, his hair brushed, practically styled as it hung in big, soft curls far past his shoulders. His face flared red to match. Lips pursed, his eye twitched as he stared at her. With the beard and the hair, he looked like a Jesus impersonator, although she more expected him to grow red horns.

  “Underwear?” she barked, despite her sore throat. A small price she paid for a little satisfaction. “Do I even have underwear?”

  “No need, love. Just pick a damn gown and let’s go.”

  He jumped off the bed, gripped her arm, and dragged her to the armoire.

  With him huffing down her neck, she opened the wooden door. Determined to not let him get to her, to get dressed and get some answers, she grabbed the first gown, trying not to focus too much on the fact they were all one hundred percent black. There seemed to be a dozen in there, but she had no time to shop now. As quickly as she could manage, pushing all concerns of him seeing her from her mind, she whipped her nightgown over her head, and threw it in his face. Then, she stepped into the gown while he recovered from the surprise cotton attack.

 
“You bitch. I won’t tolerate such nonsense from my bride to be.”

  He grabbed and yanked her by her hair, pulling her to him until her chest bounced off his.

  Then, he kissed her. A quick, horrible, painful hit of his dry, hard mouth against her lips.

  She clutched at her unzipped gown as her stomach rolled from the slimy magic that tasted like tar and hissed in her ears.

  “Don’t ever do that again!” she screamed. “What the hell is wrong with you? You were at least a nice guy before. What’s your perverted issue today? And, bride? Excuse me? I’ll never be your bride!”

  “Sorry,” he yelled, then sucked in a deep breath. With a much calmer, lower voice, he apologized again. “Sorry. A lot has changed for me since I last saw you. For one, I know you slept with Aedan. The sounds coming from your room last night, they tore my heart to shreds. That changes a man. But, right before that, these men, the ones I work with in the society, they summoned me. When I got here, they took me to your aunt. I’ve been played a fool for years. But, once I got the truth, or at least the version they deemed for me this time, I sort of like my part in it. Our part in it. But then, I came back for you, only to find you with Aedan.”

  “Were you the one who attacked us last night?” she asked, fear clutching her heart.

  This wizard posed an actual threat now. She’d always known she couldn’t trust him, but this new, more arrogant Darcaryn, one with an axe to grind and a new plan, he terrified her. She began to mentally prepare herself for whatever he had in store for her.

  “No. Honestly. I didn’t haunt your sexual encounters with that ass of an ex-SEAL. Your amorous activities didn’t fall into their plans either. No one expected you to fall for the bodyguard, however cliché that is. We thought you better than to fall for a human, all muscle and no magic.”

  Her thoughts fell to her hero as Darcaryn moved to zip up the back of her gown. It took everything in her not to strike out at him rather than have him touch her.

  The slippery bastard used the moment to run his fingers over her back.

  Biting her tongue, she reminded herself that one gathered more bees with honey. Or, was it ants? Whatever! She grew determined to play their game, take a lesson from her aunt, and play along to gain information. To a point, that was. No way in hell would she marry Darcaryn.

  “You truly look beautiful,” he offered.

  She thought of the last time a man had said that to her, and how different the time had felt.

  “You must come,” he urged, tugged on her arm like an abusive man, with anger, and without concern for her body. “They won’t be kept much longer.”

  She took his arm to keep the peace and to hurry this show along.

  A ball formed in the pit of her stomach as she walked along the twists and turns of the hallways and staircases, her black sequined gown swishing on the floor, against the walls, and over the steps. She felt like a prisoner being led to her last supper.

  They entered a large dining room, full of empty tables and chairs except for one. Among the group of six seated men, she spotted her aunt. The woman calmly sipped something from a dainty teacup until she spotted Kyna.

  “Oh, Kyna! How lovely you look,” the woman exclaimed as she rushed from her seat to hug her.

  “You made friends with your enemies?” Kyna ventured, confused at the scene before her.

  The woman ignored her words and sat back down at a huge table of food. Maybe the woman truly played her same game. Work with the enemy. Gather information. Then, bring the suckers down. Each man seated there wore elaborate clothing, a touch gothic for her taste, but obviously expensive, nonetheless. Silver and diamonds glistened under the huge chandeliers against their all-black attire. A wishful symbolism of hell and ice, she mused.

  “Looks like I chose the right color from the closet,” she whispered to herself.

  Obviously, no one present cared what she had to say. They’d all resumed talking and eating as if she didn’t even stand before them.

  She tried to remain as calm as she could. Her mother had taught her well over the years that calm allowed more to be accomplished. Fear and anger, as well as jumping to conclusions, only muddied the waters of communication, the fastest way to resolution. If she ever saw the woman again, she’d thank her. She’d never let herself be suspicious that each lesson of her upbringing had truly prepared her for this ordeal. She must’ve known the possibility of bad things happening given the circumstances of her adoption. Her aunt had even alluded to the fact her mother had been taught or prepared to deal with her, to keep her safe, whatever that meant.

  “Sit. Eat. We have much to talk about,” her aunt cooed.

  Kyna followed instructions, figuring the best way at this point to get the information they were willing to give her was to keep her mouth shut. Surely, whatever she heard would be some distorted version of the truth anyway, a ruse to put her right where they wanted her. Regardless, she figured fighting them was futile. It would only get her locked up in some actual dungeon. Surely, this castle had them. On that, she’d bet money.

  Darcaryn pulled out her chair and pushed her in after she sat, reminiscent of the gentleman he’d once pretended to be.

  She nodded her head his way in an automated gesture of thanks, and then casually observed all the people around the table. No one bothered to introduce him or herself. So, she waited, bit her tongue, and sat in silence.

  Her body felt tensed from head to toe in her attempt to prevent the flurry of thoughts in her head from erupting from her mouth. Her day just kept getting better and better. Instead of luxuriating in Aedan’s strong arms, naked in bed, she wasted her time held hostage in a formal castle dining room, dressed in a black gown.

  Darcaryn poured her tea, and then took her hand. She kept her fingers stretched out. Her whole hand remained rigid in his. She needed something, some small measure of rebellion or defense to keep up this rouse.

  She started when he began to speak.

  “Kyna, we have much to reveal to you. First, your aunt was neither kidnapped, nor did she sacrifice herself for information as she left you a message to believe. That was all part of an elaborate plan set in motion years ago.”

  The others just sat there, observing. It freaked her out to some degree, so she feared they’d provided for her the amount of calm she had in her possession. It made sense for a fleeting second. Her mind stumbled with puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together. Many were even missing. Yet, she sat docile, kept foolishly trying to gather the facts she could grasp in a meticulous fashion. Unsure why the idea of being spelled hadn’t dawned on her before, she realized they’d wanted it that way. She couldn’t keep up with her thoughts or feelings. The way she acted or reacted, she couldn’t take complete ownership of.

  “Kyna, you are not my niece, but my daughter,” her aunt stated. “Please pardon the lie, but we felt it best. We feared the drama of me being your birth mother would only take away from your training, you being groomed into this society. You wanting to get to know me wasn’t as important.”

  “My mother? My training? This society? What?” Not one word her aunt said made sense, despite the woman’s matter of fact tone and ease of speaking.

  “I don’t get what you’re confused about, dear. It’s a simple matter. I am your birth mother. I didn’t tell you before because your training and your joining this society were more vital. Any lies were told for the greater good.”

  “The greater good? What the hell…sorry.”

  She paused a second, tried to calm her voice, make it not reflect the pounding of her heart or the swirling thoughts in her head. While she did relax, she knew it not her doing. She clung to that one truth.

  “I don’t understand how telling me you were my aunt rather than my mother changed anything. I still wanted to know about her,” she got out.

  “Yes, you did. You’ve proven more headstrong than we’d hoped. Your constant questions were the reason I disappeared so soon after your arrival. You denied
me the right to get to know my daughter,” her aunt, or mother, chastised her.

  “I denied you? Okay,” Kyna stuttered.

  “I forgive you,” the woman said in a flat tone. “But, you have to understand, I live to serve. I’m that important here. We are more than mere witches, dear. We share the mark of great power. The appearance of the mark on your hip at your birth told me of the great power you would possess, same as my own. And, your role in this society will soon be essential as well. They’ve waited a long time for you to be brought back to Ireland, as have I. My bastard father hid you well. I paid the man back dearly for that sin, I can tell you that.”

  “You did, I’m sure. Does this society have a name?” Kyna interrupted, then bit her lip for not following her own plan of silence.

  Her thoughts circled around her birthmark. Rather than a mere eyesore all her life, it had marked her and made her a target.

  The audacity shrouded in insanity of this woman, god forbid, her mother, stunned her. Her words, so twisted in meaning, painted a clear picture of the insurmountable odds stacked against Kyna at this moment. She focused hard on every trick she had in her to appear the team player her demented mother wanted, to process this new and stupid information.. Right now, it seemed like her only logical plan for survival. That is, until a real plan of escape presented itself.

  She formed a mantra to keep her vigilant, and to keep her from vomiting into her food. Then, a forced calm doused her like a wet blanket, dripped over her thoughts, and saturated them into a murky mass of confusion.

  “Not really. It’s not imperative for you to know anyway. It goes by many names, for many people, depending upon what it needs from them. Names aren’t important. Membership is, as well as your role in the organization. I’ve paved the way for you, made sure you had the privilege of being a part of all of this. Regardless, your mark would make you desirable all on its own. Enough about that. Let me explain further, as you’ve proven yourself the curious type. I suppose you deserve a little time to gain some answers.

  “So, in a nutshell, my father was an ambitious man, rich and power hungry. He tried to join this group for political gain. Interested in his powers and what he could bring to the table, they agreed to let him in. The story takes a turn, though, when I found myself pregnant at a young age. My father had you taken from me the minute I gave birth. Not good for his image, you see. Anyway, I got one brief glance at you, and then I got to hear you cry on your way out. Hating him, I lurked, I learned, and I found out Darcaryn worked for both sides. I went to the society then. I convinced them to ruin my father, no matter what the price. In return, I offered them my powers, whatever they wanted, along with my undying gratitude. I signed you up as well. That way I was guaranteed their desire to search by telling them of the mark you wear. It shows bloodline, a powerful bloodline.”