Betrayed

by Nancy Corrigan

  “A fucking fairy ring.” Hidden out of sight from my hounds.

  Leading up to the edge of it, the impressions of small feet showed the path the sluagh had taken to return to its home, the realm that still existed in the Underworld even if there weren’t any fairies left to occupy it.

  He pivoted on his heel and surveyed the rest of the building. Along one wall, a large map hung with an assortment of colored pushpins decorating it. Next to it, hundreds of frozen images were neatly arranged. Some had crumpled corners and wrinkles; others had been printed on special paper and in different hues. They showed various landscapes and seasons. The clothing style changed, but one thing remained the same in them.

  They were all of Harley—naked, fully clothed, sleeping under the golden rays of the sun, fucking other men. All of his mate.

  Every last one.

  The growl started deep in his chest. He focused on one picture—Harley on her knees, sucking some human’s dick with a look of pure rapture on her face, much like the one she’d worn last night when she’d been in a similar position with him. Calan let a nail grow into a sharp talon. He sliced the male’s image, then desecrated each of the others. It didn’t appease his rage. He wanted their blood for daring to touch what belonged to him.

  Harley had been his from the moment he’d left his mark on her. She should’ve felt the connection to him, even if she didn’t understand it. She should’ve longed for him, needed him, fucking sought him out.

  But she hadn’t.

  She’d stayed away for nine unbelievably long years. In that time, she’d given her body to the males depicted on the wall before him. How had she been able to touch them, let alone find release at their hands?

  Harley doesn’t need to return my devotion. She could still walk away exactly as he’d suggested in the traditional binding vow he’d given. It was the ultimate sacrifice a mate could make—eternal commitment without a guarantee of it being returned. Yet every one of her caresses and kisses suggested she’d loved him as long as he had her.

  His growl turned into a roar that shook the building. The wooden beams groaned. The earth moved under his feet. Electricity sparked in the air around him.

  Riesa whined, and the sound pulled him back from the edge moments before he unleashed the power of the Hunt. He peered over his shoulder. She approached him, head lowered and tail between her legs.

  He dropped to his knees and opened his arms to receive her nuzzle and lick. “It’s not your fault, Riesa. You can’t smell the chaotic taint when it’s masked.”

  At his bitter, raw laugh, Riesa cowered more. The sight bothered him, but he couldn’t help it. The irony was too much. The great leader of the Wild Hunt was linked to a redcap through his mate. Somehow, Raul had ingested Harley’s blood. It was the only explanation for his ability to hide from Calan’s hounds.

  As Calan’s mate, the Hunt was blinded to Harley and so too was Raul—the redcap partially bound to her. Although the ceremony hadn’t been performed, the first step had been taken. The moment she turned Unseelie, she could claim the first leader of her army and make Raul her tool, weapon…lover, anything she desired.

  It won’t happen. Harley will finish her bond to me, no other.

  “He’ll die, slowly and painfully.” The vow didn’t help. Rage still gripped Calan, and he couldn’t think beyond his anger to decide on the best way to eliminate Raul when Calan couldn’t sense his presence.

  The situation seemed impossible.

  The ground trembled, and his hair stood on end as energy raced to his body. Calan let the power—the rage of the Hunt—swamp him until he too trembled under its force and its sweet lure before stretching his arms to the heavens and calling forth his horse for the first time in a millennium. From the portal to the Underworld only a Huntsman could use, his stallion trotted out. The tug of Arawn’s summons followed. Calan blocked him. He’d deal with his sire soon but didn’t dare risk it while he fought the temptation of the Hunt—to ride, to protect, to avenge. Only. That was the danger. The need to seek revenge could consume them to the point where nothing else mattered. Their duty became everything.

  A visit to the Underworld often resulted in a brawl with his father. The additional violence on top of what rode him would send him over the edge. It took every ounce of his control to resist its pull.

  Can’t give in. Harley needs me here. So too did his siblings and the humans.

  The stakes were too high to risk being locked in yet another prison because he couldn’t control himself. He would become what Harley had first pegged him as—an unstoppable force that destroyed everything in his path.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen, not when his personal heaven was within reach.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harley stood in Ian’s living room while he prowled. The description fit better than paced. Coiled energy tightened his muscles. He curled and uncurled his fists. Ian finally stopped, faced the mirror above the side table and punched it. Glass shattered. The tinkling noise of shards hitting the wooden floor resounded around them. Rough pants sawed past his lips, and blood dripped from his knuckles.

  She blew out a slow breath and glanced from the silvery blades on the floor at his feet to his face. “I’m sorry. I should never have—”

  “Fucking stop.” Ian leveled glinting hazel eyes at her. “I am so goddamn sick of hearing your lame-ass apologies.”

  Harley stepped back and wrapped her arms around her chest. “I don’t have anything else to give.”

  “You need to stop apologizing. It doesn’t change anything. Not the rotten blood in your body or the hell that follows you.” Ian closed the distance between them. “You did not ask to be fathered by a monster.”

  She knew that, and for the first time in her life, she had a way to make up for every death Dar, Raul, and the other redcaps had caused.

  “Calan will avenge Cynthia’s family, and maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll find her alive.”

  “Don’t feed me any false hope. Cynthia is either dead or Raul made her into a sluagh.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And the worst damn part is our last words spoken to each other were ones of anger.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “What happened?”

  Ian dug out the antique ring he’d given to Cynthia. It had belonged to their grandmother and was worth a small fortune. He held it up to the light, examining it from all angles.

  “We started arguing over china patterns.” He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It turned into a fight with her demanding shit like a new house and car. I figured it was just the stress of the wedding and stuff, but Trevor’s words kept going through my head.”

  Silence stretched. Finally, she finished his statement. “So you asked her about it.”

  “Yeah. Cynthia said she deserved everything I could give her since it was clear she’d never have my undying love. Then she accused me of cheating on her. I told her she was full of shit. That I didn’t condone cheating.” He cracked his knuckles. “She laughed in my face, so I turned my back on her and told her we’d talk in the morning. I left, but came back when I’d calmed down. The house was dark, so I sat in my car and—”

  The front door banged open with a gust of wind. The scent of a campfire rushed in with a breeze that scattered papers and knocked the picture frames from their spots on the mantel.

  Calan. She spun.

  He stepped through the opening. His gaze zeroed in on her. His nostrils flared, and a rumbly snarl curled his lip. She reached behind her and braced against the wall to steady her shaky legs at the sight of the fury stamped on his face.

  The long fingers that had brought her pleasure hours ago lengthened. The nails thickened, sharpened, and grew into slightly curved talons. She jerked her attention from the deadly claws to his face. He swept his gaze over her in an intent perusal that stripped her, penetrated her, and left her raw and open in front of him. He settled his gaze on her face. Desire softened his eyes, but the pointy teeth filling his m
outh didn’t match the hungry look he wore.

  Calan stretched a hand to her. “Come here.”

  Her heart raced, but she closed the distance between them. The moment she stepped within arm’s length, he slid his arm around her waist and tugged her against him. Face buried into her hair, he breathed deeply.

  “Harley, my Harley.” He whispered the words into her hair.

  “What the hell did you find?”

  She jerked at Ian’s barked question, but Calan didn’t flinch. He shifted his attention to Ian. “I found Raul’s fairy ring. A female sluagh’s footprints led up to it.”

  Ian groaned. The agonized sound cut at her heart. She covered her mouth. “Cynthia.”

  “Where’s the fairy ring?” Ian asked.

  Calan peered past her to focus on Ian. “You don’t need to know. I will avenge her death and free her spirit.”

  “No.” Ian stepped forward. “If it’s Cynthia, the creature using her body will die by my hand. I will be the one to give her peace.”

  Calan raised a brow. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, that’s so.”

  With his stance widened and arms crossed, Calan faced Ian. A small smirk played on Calan’s lips. Seeing it worried her, but her attention landed on her brother’s agonized expression.

  “Do you wish to join the Hunt for her?”

  She tensed, instincts flaring. “Ian, don’t—”

  “Yes.” No hesitation. Ian reached out a hand. “I’m in.”

  Calan grasped it. Ian’s nostrils flared. Minutes passed in silence. She glanced between the two men. What was going on? No emotion showed on their faces. They didn’t even blink, but something significant was happening.

  Finally, Ian nodded, then turned his back, but not before she caught him pressing a balled fist to his chest.

  “What’s going on?” No answer. “Ian, are you, okay?” He nodded.

  She stepped in front of Calan. Hoping to keep her voice calm, she asked, “What did you do to him?”

  “I shared with him knowledge of the Hunt. He needs to know what he’s in for if he’s going to join it.” Calan grabbed her hand and tugged her against him before she could ask more questions. “Now, come with me. Daybreak is less than an hour away. I want to show you something before the sun rises.”

  Calan led her across the room. At the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “Prepare yourself, and keep my hounds close. We ride tomorrow at dusk. Have your final decision made.”

  The horse waiting in the middle of Ian’s backyard was a phantom in every sense of the term. The trees behind it showed through its ghostly body. Harley froze, mesmerized and repulsed by the skeletal creature. It turned black, fathomless eyes on her. She got lost in the abyss. It sucked her in, wrapped around her and showed her an image of herself she didn’t understand. She stood beside the lake on her property, arms stretched out and head tipped back. Black streaks bisected her platinum curls. Lightning flashed. Her scream echoed in her head.

  Within one heartbeat and the next, the picture disappeared. She jerked backward. Calan linked his arms around her waist, stopping her tumble.

  “Be calm. This is my horse, Death.”

  She settled against Calan’s hard body and the comforting scent of a campfire chased the unsettling image from her mind.

  “Death?” She tipped her head back. “You named your horse Death?”

  The sight of his lifted lips curled her toes. Did he realize the power he had over her?

  “My sire named him, actually. Each rider is given a horse from Arawn’s stable. Death is bonded to me.” He pressed his hand to his pec, where the living tattoo marked him as a Huntsman. “But Death will welcome you too. You belong to me.”

  “I’ve never ridden a horse.”

  The smirk on his full mouth faded. He tensed. “Does Death frighten you?”

  She peered over her shoulder at the big animal. It watched her with its mysterious dark eyes. The horse did scare her. She got the impression it could see into her soul. Her tainted soul. She swallowed hard and faced Calan. The careful way he watched her, as if expecting her disgust, stopped her from telling the truth. “No.”

  “Good.” Calan settled his hands on her hips. “Get on. I grow impatient.”

  “What is it that you want to show me?”

  “A warehouse.”

  His flat tone sent a chill down her spine. “What’s in it?”

  A tic developed on his jaw. “You’ll see.”

  “Just tell me. We’re wasting time that you could be using to hunt Raul.”

  He worked his jaw and shifted his gaze to the woods surrounding Ian’s house. “The night wanes, and unless I pass him on the street, I won’t sense him.”

  “But I thought you said—”

  “I know what I said, but I won’t find him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Since you are my mate”—the hard look returned to his eyes—“you are safe from the Hunt, even if you haven’t yet completed your half of the bond.”

  Trepidation settled over her. “And what does that have to do with Raul?”

  “Do you remember when I said a ceremony was needed to bond a redcap to you?”

  Her stomach dropped. Unable to form words, she nodded.

  “It is performed in two parts: body and soul.” He paused, searching her face with his gaze as if seeking a confirmation of his words. After a moment, he sighed. “To link your bodies the redcap must willingly ingest your blood.”

  She gasped and covered her mouth to muffle the sound. Memories rushed back: Raul chasing her, attacking her, biting her. She cut off the flow of images before the worst ones claimed her.

  Calan’s expression fell, no doubt seeing the confirmation in her eyes.

  “And the second?” she asked when he remained quiet.

  “If you turn Unseelie, you’ll supply him a bloody cap then take his blood, tying his soul to yours, making him your slave.” Calan brushed a single finger down her cheek. “Raul would become your puppet, willing and eager to do your bidding.”

  “And what is he now?” She inhaled sharply. “To me?”

  “A threat.” He dropped his hand. “To you, me, the world. Since he’s obviously consumed your blood, it ensures that he and his sluaghs are invisible to the power of the Hunt.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Calan helped Harley off his steed’s back. She’d remained silent on the ride to the warehouse near Cynthia’s home. He’d tried to get her to talk about Raul, but she’d only shaken her head. She’d needed a moment to deal with the news he’d delivered, but the time had come to face the implications of her past.

  Nine years had gone by without knowing Harley’s fate. Calan wanted the knowledge of the life she’d lived. What she’d done. If she’d loved the males she’d accepted into her body. How Raul had hurt her. There would be no secrets between them. They would close the gap.

  Starting now.

  He led her across the lot, opened the door, and ushered her inside. Her gaze zeroed in on the fairy ring.

  “Here? He’s had a damn fairy ring right in our hometown?”

  She didn’t wait for the obvious answer. She stormed into the building, hands flexing and releasing at her sides. With quick strides, she circled the mushroom border, an expression of rage twisting her features. He extended his mind to hers. A wall met him. An actual brick wall. He felt the roughness of the blocks under his mental fingers.

  She’d blocked him.

  “Harley.”

  Her limbs trembled, and her pace quickened. He rushed forward. Bringing her here had been a mistake. Without their complete tie, he couldn’t touch her mind unless she allowed it. Her refusal of his assistance made it harder for him to help her through her anger. He should’ve anticipated her reaction to seeing the ring. He’d been too focused on uncovering the reason why she’d sought out other men instead of him, the one lover who would worship her for eternity.

  In the face of her anger, it had been a
damn selfish reason and one he regretted.

  “Harley, stop.” He stepped into her path.

  She cut him an irritated look. Her nostrils flared, and she promptly sidestepped him to continue her looping. On the next pass, he grasped her wrist and tugged her tense body against his. She didn’t resist but didn’t relax into his embrace either.

  “Flower, let me in.”

  She shook her head. He pressed kisses to her neck, her jaw and finally licked the seam of her lips. She pushed against his chest. “Calan, st—”

  He slid his tongue between her parted lips and led her in a slow, drugging kiss. On and on, he twined their tongues. Finally, she linked her arms around his neck.

  The wall separating them came crashing down.

  He swept through her in a metaphysical caress, easing her tension and spreading warmth into her. She moaned in response to the sexual push he gave and kissed him harder. He probably should’ve felt bad for influencing her, but sex offered a Huntsman a safe way to alleviate their pent-up rage. It’d do the same for Harley. Their struggles weren’t all that different, simply flip sides of the same battle. He wanted to avenge the wronged; she wanted to hurt those who’d wronged her.

  Lust built the longer they kissed. His cock lengthened and ached for the cushion of her body. He wanted to love her. The warehouse with Raul’s fairy ring and the display of Harley’s pictures wasn’t the right place for it. He broke their kiss and cupped her face between his hands.

  “Do not block me. For both of our sakes, I need to be able to touch your mind and comfort you the way you have done for me. We need each other.” He brushed his lips over hers once more. “Understand?”

  “Yes. It’s just that…” Harley leaned back, putting enough space between them to motion toward the portal to the fairy realm. “This has been here for a while, hasn’t it?”

  The mushrooms grew with each passing year. Some of the older ones he’d seen had stood as tall as a man. “Several years at least.”

  She pushed away from him and knelt next to the ring. “Ian owns a company that does security work for the government and sometimes personal protection cases. At least that’s the side of it that makes money. In truth, he uses all the contacts he’s made to protect me.”