by Leia Shaw
Ignoring them, she continued, “I have watched the young one from the heavens. Her bravery and wisdom are to be rewarded.” She turned her powerful gaze to Marcelo. “I will grant her life, vampire, if you trade something of yours. A life for a life.”
He should have been cautious, gods were known to be tricky, but he didn’t care. Hope burst through him like the sun over the horizon. “I said anything, goddess, and I meant it. What would you have of me?”
Those blue eyes flickered with excitement. “Your soul.”
His forehead creased, uncertain what she meant.
“For when you perish, meeting your true death, your soul will belong to me. You will work for me, do my bidding. You will hunt for me.”
He nodded. “It is done.”
She smiled once then turned to face the fae crowd. “I hereby claim this child as Aila Quinn the Favored One. Anyone who would try to do her harm will answer to me.” As she said it her pupils filled with crimson, her fingernails turned to claws, the roots and trees around them shifted restlessly in the ground. A fierce wind blew in from the south as clouds darkened the sky. The showing of enormous power was enough to scare the fae into submission. Even Marcelo was intimidated.
And just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. The sky its normal rusty scarlet, the trees were still, Artemis more beautiful than he could imagine.
She leaned over Aila’s body and placed one slender finger to the center of her forehead. When she lifted it, a crescent shaped moon, a shade darker than her natural color, marked her skin. It could have passed as a birthmark but that it was so perfectly shaped and centered.
Breath surged into the small body. Her heart beat, weak at first then gradually growing stronger. He sobbed again, but this time in joy. He rocked her limp body, wiping his tears from her face.
“You’re going to be all right, my love,” he told her though she wasn’t yet conscious. He pressed his forehead to her hers. “Mi amor, you will live.”
Chapter 18
Aila woke with hazy memories. Muted sun streaks lit a bedroom where she lay staring at a familiar ceiling. A spicy, wild scent flooded her senses. She was in Rheol Haearn. In Marcelo’s bed. How did she get here? A vast array of jumbled images floated through her mind. The fae war, a glowing light, Marcelo’s broken expression, pain, an arrow –
She gasped and shot upright gripping her chest. Marcelo was by her side in an instant.
“Shh…you’re okay,” he said, gently pushing her down against the pillows. He smiled down at her, stroking her cheek. “Glad to see you’re finally awake.”
She struggled against the hand on her shoulder. I have to stop the fae war! How long had she been sleeping? Had she missed it?
Marcelo remained unmovable, concern crossed his features. “Calm down, querida. You’ve been sleeping for three days now but you are uninjured. There’s no reason to panic.”
Three days? Then it was over. She had failed. She nodded sadly and relaxed against the pillows. Marcelo sat down on the bed. With tender hands he stroked her hair and face, a wide grin set upon his lips.
“What happened?” she asked. “I…I think I died.”
Death had been nothing like it was in the movies – a slow motion tragedy performed to a Celine Dion track. No. Death hurt. Like a bitch.
She had known she would die the second the arrow hit. She had accepted it. Her only concern had been for Marcelo. Love had poured out of him, warming her soul, making it easier for her to slip away. She remembered thinking that it wasn’t a bad way to die. She had been loved, really loved, if only for a week.
But here she was, in Marcelo’s bedroom, her stubborn vampire beaming at her side. He didn’t seem to be able to wipe that silly grin off his face.
She looked down at her chest where a pink puckered scar had formed. She was healed. Unless…
“Am I in heaven?”
Marcelo laughed and it sounded like music. She melted into the pillows, her own silly grin stretching across her face.
“No. You are very much alive. And I couldn’t be happier.” He grasped her hand, crushing it in his bigger one. His smile faded and his voice was low and grave. “You scared me, Aila. I’ve never been so afraid in all my existence. I was broken when you died. I begged the goddess to kill me too –”
“Goddess?”
He smiled again. “That’s who gave you life, Aila.”
A goddess had saved her?
“Artemis is her name. She saw your courage and gave you a second chance. It’s quite an honor. The fae believe you to be divinely blessed. They will listen to anything you say now, love. It isn’t over and it will be hard work – work that will require that pretty mouth of yours, but you can fulfill your destiny. You can begin to unite the fae.”
She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them repeatedly, trying to determine if this was a dream. A goddess? She hadn’t even known they existed yet she had been healed by one? Because of her courage?
“Pinch me,” she told Marcelo and he laughed. His joy was contagious. She’s never seen him so happy.
“I have a better way of proving you’re alive.” He bent down and kissed her, tenderly, lovingly, but with a hunger that was unbridled and raw.
Oh yes, she was alive. Pulling away seemed difficult for him but he did then gazed deep into her eyes.
“Still believe you’re dreaming?” he asked.
“If I am, I don’t want to wake up.”
The door to the bedroom flung open with a bang. A slender girl with chestnut brown hair, lively green eyes, a black tank top and worn jeans stormed inside. Sage.
“You crazy little bitch!” she said teasingly as she shoved Marcelo aside and gave Aila a tight hug.
Marcelo sent an irritated glare towards a figure standing just in the doorway. “You couldn’t even give me fifteen minutes?”
An unfamiliar masculine voice answered, “You know who I’m dealing with, right?”
Sage ignored them. “I can’t believe you! You died! You actually thought to die in my kingdom without visiting me first? What’s wrong with you?”
Aila couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle. “Sorry, I didn’t know I needed your permission.” Sage was just as vibrant as Aila remembered.
“You should hear what the fae are calling you. Aila the Transcendent. Aila the Favored One. Aila the Fucking Savior of the Universe! Personally, I’m partial to the Favored One. The Transcendent? That will go straight to your head.” She patted Aila’s head.
Aila rolled her eyes. “I didn’t even do anything. Except die.” She frowned. “Which really wasn’t that difficult considering the circumstances.”
“But you came back to life,” Sage reminded her. She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Marcelo let you run into the middle of a fucking war.” She gave him a disapproving glare. “Idiot.”
His lips twitched. “You already made your opinion of my intellect perfectly clear.” Under his breath he added, “More than once.”
Sage nodded, unashamed. “It’s true. I tried to kill him. James held me back.”
She brought her gaze to the man leaned casually against the door jam. Sage waved him over. “This is James,” she told Aila with pride and fondness in her voice she had never heard from her sister.
Aila covertly looked him over. Sage wasn’t the only one who was protective. James was tall and lean with pale skin and even paler blue eyes. They were beautiful, hypnotic like Marcelo’s. Was that a vampire thing? His strawberry blond hair was styled to perfection, his appearance neatly groomed. He didn’t look anything like the rough and tumble Marcelo, but there was something lurking just under the surface that emanated danger. Like he could charm the socks off you then snap your neck while you smiled in bliss. And he had the same regal air as Kieran. He was the opposite of Aila’s wild and untamed sister. But when he wrapped a possessive arm around Sage’s shoulders and their gazes locked, Aila could see pure love between them. And that was good enough for her.
; “Hi, James. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She stuck out her hand to shake his. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” he said, his lyrical Welsh accent making him all the sexier.
Sage shifted away from James’ embrace and took Marcelo’s spot on the bed. “So, you and Marcelo, huh?”
Aila’s cheeks heated.
“He’s a hottie, right? I thought so too at first but after he forced blood down my throat…well, that changes a person. But still, look at that gorgeous body!” She chuckled then muttered, “I suppose I don’t need to tell you that.”
Aila looked for James’ reaction knowing that if she’d said something so bold about another man in front of Marcelo, he’d have been pissed. Just as she’d thought, James was no exception. A jealous black fury filled his eyes before he wrapped his hand around the back of Sage’s neck in a proprietary hold.
She rolled her eyes and batted him away. “Oh, relax, you silly, jealous man. You know you’re the only vampire for me.” With a mischievous look in her eye, she added, “Although…some of those fae warriors –” She was cut off when James gave her neck a little squeeze.
Aila shook her head, laughing. Her sister hadn’t changed much, even after becoming Queen of the Underworld.
Sage winked at Aila. “We’ll talk later. I want to hear all about it, including the graphic details –”
“Enough!” Marcelo boomed from the corner. “Everyone out.” His gaze landed on Aila. “We have unfinished business to attend to.”
Sage pouted. “But –”
“Come, cariad,” James said, tugging on her arm. “Leave the happy couple alone. You can catch up later.”
She followed her mate towards the door. “I’m really glad you’re not dead.” As James pulled her into the hallway she gave a backward glance and mouthed, “Love you.”
Aila’s heart burst with joy. She was surrounded by the people she loved, and who loved her in return. It was a tangible thing, thick in the air, making butterflies dance in her stomach.
Marcelo watched her from across the room, his arms folded across his chest in that protective, masculine way. He narrowed his eyes but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, softening his expression.
“You’ll have a scar,” he said.
She looked down at the ugly mark on her chest and smirked. “Well, look at that. I’m a regular badass.”
He chuckled. “You’ve come a long way from the scared little girl I met in Albany. I only had to drag you kicking and screaming from your safe little world to get here.”
“No,” she snorted. “You took my safe little world, tore it up, stomped on it then burned it to ashes.”
He shrugged and stalked towards her. “I challenged you.”
“You taunted me.”
“I pushed you.”
Beyond what I thought I could handle. You thrust my fears in front of my face where I couldn’t ignore them. You forced me to take a good, hard look at what was holding me prisoner and decide if I wanted to die there alone.
“It wasn’t comfortable,” she said.
He nodded. “I’ll bet it was downright painful.”
“By all logic, I should hate you.”
“But you don’t.”
“No, I don’t. Because of you, I’m free.”
“No, querida.” He cupped her cheek. “It was in you from the start.”
She smiled. “And what about you? Did you gain anything from this little adventure?”
“Ah, love, I gained the most valuable thing of all. My heart. I can never thank you enough.”
“For existing?” She raised her brows in amusement.
“For loving this overbearing, unrefined vampire.”
“Don’t forget grumpy.”
He threw his head back and laughed. Her heart exploded in her chest. Being loved by Marcelo was like taming a wild beast. To the world he was a savage and fearsome thing. Possessive and formidable. Growling and baring his teeth at every threat. But she would place her head in that lion’s mouth without hesitation. His love was raw, honest. It stripped her down to her most basic form.
She was a woman.
He was a man.
They loved.
Nothing else mattered.
She’d spent most of her life afraid of being hurt. And now she loved so hard that her soul ached from the depth of it.
“How do you feel?” he asked. “Tired? Any aches or pains?”
None. In fact, she’d never felt better. “Nope. I feel great.”
His thumb traced her bottom lip. Goose bumps rose on her arms. He grabbed the back of her head and drew her to his lips. His kiss was soft and tender. She opened her mouth to find his tongue but he pulled back.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
A week ago she’d have hesitated. Two weeks ago she’d have laughed. Today’s answer was easy. “Yes.”
His mouth curled up on one side and that was all the warning she got. One blink later she was pinned underneath him, her wrists manacled by one of his hands over her head.
“Now, I am going to make love to you…” He kissed her, hard and deep, a fiery branding of her lips. “Over and over,” he mumbled against her mouth, “until we are both sore…” He kissed his way to her ear. “And we can’t think anymore.”
She smiled blissfully and melted into the mattress. This was a part of Marcelo she had grown to love. This primitive, wild thing. One look at those black eyes narrowed with precision on his target and she was captivated. A willing slave to his seduction.
He lifted her up, ripped off the baggy t-shirt and sweatpants someone must have dressed her in, leaving her exposed in only a pair of pink lacy underwear. Then he sat back on his knees raking his bold gaze over her nearly naked body. Something dark and sinister flashed in his eyes as he took his time studying her. She shuddered. This was no romantic vampire. This was a predator. And he was just about to eat his prey. She felt something much stronger than longing. More than just desire. She was hungry. For him. She could match his savage lust with her own.
He licked his lips and she could barely contain herself. Liquid heat rushed between her thighs. She clenched them in anticipation.
“Marcelo,” she rasped.
He arched a brow.
“Please.”
He smiled. Damn him, he liked the sound of her begging. “Please what?”
Irritation ignited her. She was lying there, almost naked, like an offering and he was toying with her? “You know what!” she hissed.
“No, I don’t. Tell me.”
She grunted and reached for him but he dodged her greedy hand. “Say it Aila, love. Tell me what you want.”
With a sly smile she feigned disinterest. “The book Kieran gave me. I was going to catch up on some read – ”
She yelped when two hands clasped her ankles and she was dragged under his warm body. “You wicked little thing,” he said, his voice muffled against her neck.
She laughed at the small victory.
“I’ll have you begging before we’re through.”
“Or maybe I’ll have you begging.”
He lifted his head from her neck and looked into her eyes. “Querida, it would be my pleasure.”
His hand grasped her breast, kneading it while his mouth took over hers, his tongue plunging inside. He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe. She moaned against him, rocking her hips into his erection. He broke off the kiss only to lick and nip his way down to her chest, stopping at each breast to lash them with his tongue. The need within her rose to fever pitch. She squirmed under his assault, urging him to touch between her legs where liquid pooled and she throbbed for him. He gave her aching nipples reprieve and dragged his tongue down her abdomen to the top of her underwear. A sexy grin, then they were gone and she was bare to his gaze.
Again I find myself naked while he’s fully clothed! “Obviously I need to pay more attention to my mate,” she said tingling from the kisses he was planting on her th
ighs. Her voice was tight with need but she was adamant. “You still have your clothes on.”
“Mm,” he mumbled in half-hearted agreement.
She grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him back up her body. He smiled at her attempt to take control, allowing her to pull off shirt then helped her shuck his pants as well. Leaning back he grabbed both her knees and pressed her thighs open, baring her completely to his gaze. For a moment she was embarrassed and fought to close them. But his hands were like a vice.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
She blushed but smiled extending her arms out to embrace him. He obliged her, wrapping his arms around her back. She gasped when he swung her onto his lap as he moved to the edge of the bed.
In one brutal thrust he set her down on his length, filling her so suddenly she cried out in shock. His hands roamed, over her back and bottom, on her breasts, rubbing against her nipples. He was everywhere. He pulled her back up then slammed her down again. She was flying, spinning, unsure of where she started and he ended. Waves of pleasure rolled over her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, holding her down when gravity ceased to exist.
She gasped for air and the orgasm went on. She was vaguely aware of his voice, whispering words of love in Spanish. When she came back down to earth, she clung to him, kissing his face and neck. She pulled back and gave him a sultry glare, her eyes half-hooded, a satisfied smile on her lips.
“Oh no, love,” he told her, his voice husky with need. “I’m not done with you yet.”
He placed her on her back at the edge of the bed. She put her arms out to stop his rapid descent towards her breasts. “Wait,” she cried. “Just wait.”
He grabbed her hands and pinned them to the mattress next to her head. “No waiting,” he growled, more animal than man. “Trust. Surrender. Let me take control.” His eyes softened at her wary expression. “I won’t hurt you. And you won’t regret it.”
Trust. Surrender. Yes, she could give him that. “I trust you. And I love you.”
A deep kiss was her reward, and a little shock of pain when he nipped her bottom lip. Still holding her arms pinned, he entered her sheath, surprising her with long, slow strokes. His gaze was fixed on hers. She wanted to shield herself from the intensity but couldn’t seem to pull away. His fangs extended and it was so erotic her body tingled with excitement. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.
