by Leia Shaw
He dipped his head in a sort of half bow. “Just out of curiosity, what would you have done had I not shown up?”
She straightened her shoulders. “Killed it of course. An arrow between the eyes,” she said because it sounded cool. It was also a blatant lie.
He narrowed those glowing eyes. “Do you know where you’re going?”
She shook her head.
“You won’t last long wandering out here on your own. Beasts will eat up a little morsel like you.”
She had no doubt he included himself in that number. Human Aila would have slapped on her most charming smile, batted her eyes, and asked for directions. Ass-Kicking-Faery Aila just shrugged. It was simple and easy and it said absolutely nothing about her current mental state – which happened to be unstable at best.
He gave her a long unsettling glance then said, “Tell you what. Since I am a benevolent dragon and because I need your services when you’re done with all your,” he waved a dismissive hand, “fae uniting, I’ll take you to your sister myself.”
Her brow creased in confusion. How did he know Sage was her sister? Or that she was looking for her? And what did he know about her uniting the fae? Before she could ask him any of the many questions pouring through her mind, she was swept up in a black mist. Nothing made sense for a moment. She was floating, entombed in the mist. But where was her body?
Oh no, she wasn’t in the mist. She was the mist. After what felt like far too long without a body, she panicked, wondering if she was bound to wander this hellish plane forever as molecules of vapor.
Finally, she was solid again and never so happy to feel her feet on the ground. Gethin materialized next to her. She swayed a bit from the trip in the mist. He grinned mockingly at her disorientation.
With a flash of his golden eyes he said, “Good luck, Aila the Foretold.” As he faded back into mist his voice carried over. “Be quick about that message. You don’t want to anger one such as me.”
And here she was, alone again, standing in front of another black iron gate surrounding a castle. Rheol Haearn, it was called. Marcelo had said it meant “iron rule.” It looked like whoever ruled it had an iron fist. It was monstrous. Black stone piled high forming three large towers. A domed roof made of glass curved up between the towers. A bolt of lightning over the castle and rumble of thunder in the distance seemed appropriate.
She sighed. Leave it to Sage to take over the Underworld. She couldn’t have stumbled upon Unicorn Land instead?
Aila tugged on the gate’s rungs but the thing wouldn’t budge. There was no sign of an intercom box or automatic gate opening button. Seriously, Sage? Not even a doorbell? She looked right, then left, but the gate went on as far as she could see. At least there wasn’t a moat.
She climbed the gate then jumped down, crouching low and slipping into a shadow. The courtyard was empty. Shouldn’t there be attack dogs or something? This was the goddamn center of the Underworld and there was no one guarding it? It was quiet.
“Too quiet,” she murmured laughing inside at the cliché. If it were a movie, this would have been the part where the audience yelled, “Run away! Run away!”
Is this what I’ve become? The “too-stupid-to-live girl”?
“Aw, fuck it. I don’t have time for this.” She inhaled a deep breath, scenting the air. Her lips curled into a smile. Marcelo’s here.
She stormed across the courtyard, eager and unafraid. A tall black statue in the middle stopped her in her tracks. It was a man dressed in a long trench coat, sword raised high, his mouth a fierce snarl. The plaque below read Cadmael, Dark King of the Underworld.
Sage’s father.
Huh. She had his eyes. And ego, apparently. Her gaze made its way down the statue’s body then did a double take. There, between its legs, a chunk of the rock was missing. Someone had castrated the Dark King?
Movement to the right caught her eye. She froze, focusing her senses as Marcelo had taught her. Then she smelled it. Blood. She spun around. Before she could blink a vampire appeared just a few yards away. Almost as tall as Marcelo, his fangs were bared, black eyes focused on her bow, now aimed with an arrow at his throat. Oh yes, vampires were fast. But so was she.
“What do we have here?” he said in laughing tone.
She rolled her eyes. What was it with male immortals and their amused arrogance?
The vampire’s skin was as black as night, his long dreads swayed when he took an exaggerated whiff of the air. “A fae? Interesting. Far from home, aren’t you, little one?”
She did her best to imitate Marcelo’s predatory gaze. “Back off, jackass. I’m here to see the queen.”
The vampire didn’t move. His eyes flared then husky laughter burst from his throat. “Lucky for me she’s not here right now. I’m hungry and you’re the tastiest looking thing I’ve ever seen.”
She gulped, fear finally making an appearance. “I’m Marcelo’s. That is…I mean…I belong to him.”
He put his hands out to the side. “I don’t see him here now.”
“Get out of my way,” she commanded with false bravado.
He grinned.
She aimed her bow lower. “Unless you want to end up like your friend here,” she gestured to the Dark King’s statue, “I suggest you move. I already shot one vampire this week, don’t test me.”
He looked at her as though she was nothing more than a petulant child making ridiculous threats. But his grin faded when his gaze fell upon something behind Aila. Another inhale of the stale air and her heart stopped. Richness and spices. Anger and joy.
Marcelo.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Wait for his forgiveness or tackle him to the ground.
“Atsu, go.” Marcelo’s voice eased her soul.
The vampire cast her one last longing glance then disappeared. Slowly she turned to face Marcelo. Their eyes locked for a long, tense moment. Neither one of them moved, neither spoke.
Talk, Aila! Say something! Like what? I’m sorry I put an arrow through your windpipe then left you passed out and helpless on the forest floor while I ran off with a fae prince. Oh, and I think I might be in love with you?
She cleared her throat and squeaked a timid, “Hi.” She wanted to smack herself in the forehead. Good one.
He stalked towards her, eyes dark and angry. She suddenly wondered if she was safer with Atsu, who only wanted to eat her, than with Marcelo, who looked like he wanted to screw her until she couldn’t even stand, let alone escape with a fae prince.
He cocked an eyebrow. “You belong to me?”
“I…I…uh…” Forgive me. Love me. Tell me this desperate ache in my chest isn’t for nothing. Tell me you belong to me too. She swallowed hard. “I was…just…the vampire was going to…”
Her rambling was cut off when he appeared inches in front of her. She looked up. His face was an unreadable mask. But God he smells so good. Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into him, seduced by his warmth.
She startled when he grabbed her shoulders in a firm grip and wordlessly raked his gaze over her body. He spun her around and looked over the back of her. After a confused moment she realized he was checking her for injuries. She tried to step away to tell him she wasn’t hurt, but the look he gave her froze her in place.
Finally, he turned her to face him again. She wished he would just yell at her. Get it over with. The silence, the indifference, was torture.
“Did you sleep with him?” he asked in a cold voice laced with dangerous undertones.
“What? Sleep with who?”
“The bloody fae I smell all over you!” His bellow echoed across the courtyard. “Who do you think?”
Finally some emotion! Yet Aila’s own temper flared. She hadn’t even spent two minutes in his presence and already he was questioning her loyalty? Not even a “hi there, hello, how are you?”
She narrowed her eyes and gave him a cruel stare. “No! Of course not!”
His shoulders sagged with relief.
/>
“We kissed. That was all.”
Black eyes flared and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
She backpedaled. “Before you freak out, let me tell you it was because of that kiss that I’m here. That kiss made me realize how much I missed you.”
He blinked. “You missed me?”
“Yes, I missed you!” She was shouting now, frustration mixed with hurt made her voice crack. She hadn’t meant to reveal her feelings quite this way, but since screaming matches were kind of their thing, she went with it. “Does that satisfy your ego? That I was miserable without you? That I found out I need you more than I need a family, a history, a culture to belong to? Do you feel better knowing you hold some kind of power over me? I hope so cause now I just feel stupid!” She paused and searched his face for any hints to what he might be thinking. She came up blank. “If you don’t say something soon I’m going to turn right back around and –”
“The hell you will!” Then he grabbed her.
Chapter 16
Aila lay passive in Marcelo’s arms as he whisked her through the castle hallways. A moment later she was airborne then bouncing on her ass in the middle of a mattress. Marcelo’s heavy body followed her down. He placed urgent, wet kisses over her face and neck while admonishing her.
“You left me, Aila,” he said, lips grazing her forehead. “Do you know how scared I’ve been?”
“I –”
His lips descended on hers, cutting off her defense. Too soon he pulled away, leaving her bare and empty.
“Don’t you ever do that again. Do you hear me?” He kissed her eyelids and the tip of her nose. “You could have been hurt. Or worse. I’m so angry I could strangle you!”
She couldn’t hold back a snicker.
He lifted his head to look her in the eye. “Don’t you dare laugh about this. There’s nothing funny about it.”
“But –”
A heavy, punishing kiss covered her protest. “It was a dangerous, reckless thing to do,” he scolded against her mouth.
When he let her breathe again, she asked, “Should I act repentant?” She had to force herself to stay still under his assault. “‘Cause I’m not.” She gasped when he nipped her earlobe. Goose bumps rose on her skin. If this was the wrath of an angry vampire, she should shoot him in the neck more often.
“If you had any sense of self-preservation you would.” He pushed up to look her in the eye again. His expression was hard but she could sense a softening underneath. “I am but a breath away from tying you to this bed and lecturing you.”
The fact that he was so serious about such a ridiculous threat made her laugh out loud. His brows arched in challenge but she could see a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. He had forgiven her.
“It’s hard to take you seriously while you’re kissing me all over,” she said between giggles.
“Make no mistake, querida, I am very angry with you. But my relief exceeds my anger at the moment. Consider yourself lucky.” His mouth moved down her neck where he pushed the fabric of her yellow sundress aside and planted kisses on her collarbone. “You’re so damn irresistible,” he breathed against her skin. “I’ve missed you so much, mi amor. It felt like my heart was gone from my chest.”
She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his head up to meet her gaze. Her fingertips trailed from his temple down his cheek and landed at his lips. One finger stroked along the bottom. He gazed deep into her eyes, tenderness and love pierced her soul. She didn’t want to leave this moment.
He claimed her mouth again, more forceful this time. She tasted his passion, felt the fierceness of his hunger. Teeth clanked together, tongues intertwining. How she missed his taste. When he pulled away, both of them were gasping for air.
“Well,” she said between breaths, “do you really want to waste time yelling at me when there are more interesting things we could be doing on this bed?”
His body stilled. His eyes locked onto hers with a darkness that promised wicked things. A shiver crept up her spine. “You’re right,” he rasped then yanked her to a sitting position and pulled her dress over her head before she could utter a single word. “This time we finish it, Aila, yes?”
He didn’t allow her to answer. His mouth was on hers with a searing kiss that melted her body all the way down to her toes. She gasped when he released her. He graced her with a seductive smile. It faded in only a few seconds and his forehead creased in concern.
“You’re nervous,” he said. “Aila, love, there’s no reason to be nervous with me. I’m not like the person who hurt you.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Will you stop if I want you to?”
His dark eyes narrowed in concentration. For a moment she thought he would say no. But then he leaned down and brushed his lips across her eyelashes. “Of course, querida.” His mouth grazed hers, the lightest of touches, his warm breath lingering along her skin. “But I’m hoping you won’t ever need to say those words again.”
He rose to his knees, keeping his gaze on hers. Gentle hands circled her ankle. He placed a soft kiss on her leg as his hand slid up her calf and behind her knee. She giggled and tried to pull away but he tightened his hold.
“I forgot you’re so ticklish,” he said with a mischievous smile. With a firmer hand he rubbed up her thigh then back down to her calf. She melted into the mattress. He nestled his face against her knee and placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh, his unshaven face scratchy against her tender skin.
“You smell so good. Like the summer days I remember when I was human.” His gaze held hers in a moment of vulnerability. “I haven’t felt human in many centuries, Aila.”
He massaged and kissed his way up her other leg until Aila could swear she was lying on a bed of clouds. Each touch sent sparks shooting to her most intimate parts, yet it relaxed her at the same time. Her eyes were half-hooded, a languid smile stretched across her face.
Marcelo’s gaze locked on her breasts. He crawled up her body, planting kisses as he went. Any more relaxed and she could have fallen asleep. But sleep was the last thing on her mind when her bra disappeared in a flurry of barely detectable movement. She saw it in pieces on the floor. She opened her mouth to scold him but when he filled both palms with her breasts and kneaded them with his callous hands, she forgot what she was going to say. His tongue lashed her nipples until they were firm and aching. She arched into him and groaned.
“Marcelo,” she whispered. “You’re making me crazy.”
He chuckled then licked and kissed his way around her neck. His tongue lapped the spot behind her ear sending shivers down her spine.
Her core was throbbing now, yearning for contact. She wanted so badly to part her thighs and grind against his erection, but fear held her in place. Fear. She had every reason to be afraid. Last time she had been in this position she had been hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut but was taken back to that night. The black star-less sky above, the crunching of dead leaves under her body, the heavy panting in her ear. Someone pulling her hair roughly, a scream trying to erupt –
“Aila,” a familiar voice pulled her back to reality. “Stay with me.”
She opened one eye, then the other.
Marcelo’s warm gaze held hers. “Right here,” he said, pointing two fingers at his eyes. “Keep your eyes here. Stay with me.”
He took her hand and rested it on his chest, directly above his heart. “Feel that?” he asked. She nodded when the thump, thump reverberated under her palm. “Learn it. Remember it. Whenever you hear that noise, Aila, you’ll know you’re home.”
Home? She studied his face. How did she fall so hard for a man in just a couple of weeks? Yes, she was home. Not the room, or the building, or even the dimensional plane. Home was with Marcelo. By his side. In his bed. As much as her twenty first century feminist upbringing dictated she didn’t belong to anyone, her heart disagreed. She was his.
With a nervous smile she nodded.
“Your turn to be in control,” he said
. Then he swung her so she was on top, straddling his hips. “Now then, mi amor, I am your slave.” He grinned and put both hands behind his head.
She huffed when she saw his gaze fixated on her breasts. Such a man. Her palms rested on his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt under her hands finally registered. He was still dressed. And I’m sitting here naked except for my underwear?
“First things first,” she said. “Shirt off.”
His grin widened as he rose up and pulled off his shirt. Her gaze got lost somewhere between his flexing pecs and washboard abs, all coherent thought gone.
“Aila,” he rasped. “Are we going to do something here? I can’t hold on much longer.”
She gave him a sultry smile. Even though she knew what he wanted, being in control set her fears at ease.
Her fingertips trailed down his chest as she slid down his body. She replaced her fingers with her tongue. He was a perfect combination of salty and sweet. His breath hitched when her breasts mashed up against his chest. She rolled her tongue around his pebbled nipple.
“You have such a beautiful body,” she said, worshipping every inch of it. “It isn’t fair to the rest of the male population. No one can compare.”
He chuckled, a deep, sexy sound that rumbled through his chest. “I like the sound of that, querida. I’m the only man you need to keep your eyes on. Now take these off.” He snapped the elastic of her underwear against her skin.
“Hey! I’m supposed to be the one in control here,” she teased, but slid off him and obeyed.
She unbuttoned his jeans and his erection sprang forth. Commando, figures. She had forgotten the daunting size of him. How would they fit together?
“We’ll fit, Aila,” he assured her as if he could read her mind. “We were made for each other.”
His eyes were bottomless pools of a blackened midnight sea, honest and sincere. Something just snapped. Maybe it was the simplicity of the statement, or the purity in which he said it, but he was right. They were made for each other. It was as easy as that.
