The Raven Trilogy- Complete Series

by Elle Lincoln

  “Don’t touch ‘er.” Patrick’s voice pierces my skull. “I’ve got a pillow and a blanket, moving her will only hurt more.

  “Did you hear what she said?” Pawn, they were using me. “Kelsie.”

  “We cannot do anything until you rest.” Casseus’s voice sounds broken. “Don’t ever heal us again.”

  A chorus of “never again” assaults me.

  “Wasn’t my goal.” It really wasn’t, I just wanted to hide them.

  “There’s my girl.” Patrick sounds gruff and perhaps just as tired as me.

  “Ember?”

  “We will find her,” Logan assures me.

  “Lay down, Bette.” Balor pushes me to the ground. I had just gotten used to the pain, but now it flares all over my body. “Sleep, heal.”

  Someone begins to hum and my body falls through consciousness. But I’m not ready to let go just yet. They need Kelsie, but why? They need me, but why? Just to snuff her out? Or is there more to it? Kelsi has all the powers of the Fae.

  A chill spears me. I don’t think they want her just for a chat. I don’t think they want her to exist at all. Dread piles on top of me.

  Am I really the one thing she cares for most?

  Again, I realize I really need to find her, but I can no longer deny the sleep I have denied for far too long. I drift away into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Bette

  Out of the Dreaming

  Twilight cascades upon the shore in a spectrum of vibrant colors. Hues of purples, reds, and oranges flicker upon waves that lap at my feet. A breeze ruffles the fabric of my dress and tickles my nose with the comforting scent of the sea.

  Dreaming.

  Yet, it doesn’t matter, because this place comforts me, hides the pain of reality that washes over me like the fires of hell. A hell that didn’t even want me.

  I feel him behind me, his warmth bleeding into my skin. A balm to my dark soul. His breath teases the nerves of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. Silence reigns over us, but this moment doesn’t need to be spoiled with words.

  Just us. His hand seeks me out, burrowing beneath the fabric. My dress drifts up, and the gasp that leaves my lips is pure pleasure as the warmth of his hand teases my skin.

  My body feels weightless as I lean into Mac. His lips brush the skin at my neck, his teeth nip the sensitive flesh. That talented tongue traces swirls upon my skin to ease the sting of his bite.

  I struggle to hold this scene, the feel and abandon that I experience in this place.

  “I’ll be there when you wake.” He brushes a kiss against my ear, sending a thrill through me. This man, this incredible god, waits for me in the waking world and comforts me with the sea.

  I settle in his arms as he leaves soft kisses up and down my neck. Not to induce lust, but a gentle love that I’m only just now acknowledging. His touch, so gentle, is deliberate with each stroke, each caress, that I lose myself to this moment, never wanting to leave.

  Yet, the dream fades as I flicker between the world of sleep and the world of wakefulness. A torrent of memories flood me, and I groan, unable to deal with them just yet.

  Arms pull me tight into an embrace. My body is cushioned by the mattress beneath me and the man behind me. The sea lingers in my senses, the saltwater lulling my body.

  “Is that you?” I smile, my eyes still shut tight, knowing that Mac can calm with just a touch.

  “Guilty.” He burrows his face into my hair, splaying one hand across my belly. “How do you feel?”

  “Better.” I’m still a bit achy, but that’s a good sign. It means I haven’t been out too long.

  “You’ve been asleep for seven hours.” Always in my damn head. Night has fallen, and the moon shines full through the window, greeting us with a lazy light.

  “We are down to two days now,” I grumble, rolling over in Mac’s arms. “We are losing time. No more sleep.”

  “You need to rest, Bette.”

  “Yes, but I don’t want a magical war on my hands.” Despite my words, I wiggle closer. Reality tells me I should get up, but my body is demanding a short break. “Where are the others?”

  A small break never hurt anyone.

  “Finding supplies, food, and clothing. Ember has been flying around threatening anything that gets close. She may be a child, but she is reckless and dangerous,” he says like it is a bad thing.

  “I think she is perfect.” I hook a leg through his, the fabric of his sweats abrasive to my naked legs. If only because I don’t want them on him.

  “You would think that.”

  “Who undressed me?” My naked body inches even closer to him, my hand running up his naked torso, teasing his abs and the fine hairs that rise with my touch.

  “I did,” he hisses as I run a finger over a nipple, so I do it again. “Bette.”

  “I like the sound of my name on your lips.” I roll on top of him, desire filling my body to a dull ache. A scratch that needs fulfillment, now.

  Scorching heart flares through me as my core settles on his erection. I roll my hips, eliciting a moan from both of us that echoes in the small, dilapidated room. I lean down, my lips finding his, and I pour everything into that fucking kiss. How I feel. What he means to me. What they all mean to me. Even the constricting nature of our predicament with the Fae.

  I need to feel him. To feel alive and wanted. My tongue darts out, dueling with his as my body coils tighter and tighter.

  “Pull your pants down.” My voice is a harsh command as my body floods with need.

  His hips jerk up as he wiggles his pants off. If it were any other moment than this, I’d laugh, but I’m past laughter. Past anything remotely funny.

  Frantic, I lift and grab his cock, fitting it at my entrance. Then, I finally slow, keeping my eyes open, watching him watch me. His eyes darken and I sit up, giving him a better view.

  I sink down, his cock filling me in the exact way I need. Kneeling, I slowly rise and fall, setting a rhythm to tease, to strain, and build the tension to a violent breaking point.

  Mac looks up at me with adoration in those emerald eyes. His hands lift to tease the weight of my breasts, his thumbs flicking over my nipples. My head tips back as he rolls his thumbs and forefingers over the stiff buds.

  I pant and struggle to keep the pace steady. My body spiraling tighter and tighter. I hold out, needing to build the tension further, reaching and striving for that painful precipice.

  Feeling my struggle, Mac holds my hips still above him. His own hips now keeping the pace I set.

  My heart thumps in my chest, my head feeling weightless and dizzy. I’m so close and Mac plays my body like a maestro, expertly rolling his hips and grinding me just to tease.

  Words aren’t needed to build my desire for this man. This god. I can see his need glazing his eyes, his pupils dilating as his breath spills out faster.

  Faster.

  A coy smile lifts his lips. His hands warm, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I know what he’s doing—building my desire and yet commanding it, holding it just out of reach with his magic. My body flails, I can no longer keep it tethered to reality.

  He pulls down, burying his cock inside of me and twisting those hips. I can feel his magic everywhere, teasing over my skin like a wave—my breasts, my nipples, my clit.

  I lose the struggle, succumbing to his manipulations of my body. Wave after wave crashes over me, never-ending as my orgasm spirals me higher. He doesn’t let up, using his magic to build me again and again. I’m lost in a haze of lust, my screams echoing across the walls.

  White light flashes behind my eyes as the last of the lightning flickers over my entire body. I fall to his chest, his shout and frantic thrust of his hips ending the blissful torture I’m already craving again.

  I’ll never get enough.

  I lay on his chest, our breathing settling. Reality crashes back into me, and with it the euphoria of the moment before. I roll over, staring at the ceiling of p
eeling paint speckled with the intricate design of a craftsmanship long forgotten.

  “Hey, we will get through this.” Mac’s soothing voice washes over me once more. I know he’s right, because I refuse to accept any other alternative.

  “Okay, let’s go.” I roll off the bed, frowning. “I have nothing to wear.”

  Mac throws me a sheet that had seen better days, but complaining isn’t a reality, so I wrap it around myself, hoping someone gathered actual clothing.

  “No time like the present.” I give Mac a weak smile before walking from the room into a narrow hall. The old estate ran tours daily, speaking of the past as though it were so long ago. Now, the estate is shrouded in darkness. This hall, once housing servants’ quarters, is nothing but pitch-black. My hands run along the chipping wallpaper, following the maze around grand rooms where balls once took place. As I walk, I imagine the echo of the past, allowing it to play out in my mind.

  A sliver of moonlight leads me to a door, then a kitchen, and out onto a patio where voices rise and lower in a heated debate. Above, the sky lights up with a breath of flame, Ember. I smile at her outburst, remembering a time not so long ago when my outbursts were far more manipulative. Let her burn a few things down. At least she isn’t killing the innocent.

  Which brings me to my current predicament.

  “Gentleman.” I face the arguing crowd with a raised brow and one hand on my hip. I get an image of me through their eyes—my dark hair bleeding into the background, a creamy sheet barely hiding equally creamy skin, and my eyes, glowing with that ethereal light. A color foreign to me, but devastating when challenged.

  “Bette.” Balor turns, his eye eating me up. “How do you feel?”

  “Better.”

  “Oy, that’s Mac’s influence if ye ask me!” Patrick laughs. At least someone is taking the issues in stride. I’m not, clearly, but his mirth has always and will always be contagious.

  I let a coy smile lift my lips. “What are we discussing?”

  “Ember. She’s cranky.” Casseus sounds the most putout by this, his hands settling on his hips as he stares at the sky, and his brows pulled low. “I can’t get her to come down from there!”

  I laugh, making all the men look at me as if I’ve lost my damn mind. I may have. “How old did we speculate she really was? Months? Perhaps each month is five years. I guarantee she will look older if she shifts again. Boys, we may be nearing the dreaded preteen.” Next month will be hell. I frown, we really should get her somewhere safer.

  “She won’t do it. I’ve tried to convince her. She thinks we are trying to get rid of her,” Logan pipes up.

  “How do you know that?” I cant my head, eyeing him speculatively. I wonder if she is more shifter than we assumed.

  “I catch snippets of her thoughts. It’s a pack mentality.” He frowns at this.

  “You mean dragons run in packs?” This is new. I eye Patrick, the only one with actual dragon knowledge.

  “Don’t look at me. Teren clearly left a few things out when he was around. Like the fact that dragons could shift to look like a human.” More frowning. At this point, we are walking through a guessing game.

  “Ember!” I yell, hoping she can hear me. “Come down!”

  Her head shifts in our direction before her leathery wings flap. She pulls them back against her body, diving toward us. It’s rather amusing to see the men back up. Kids are scary enough, but a dragon kid? Well, they’re right, she is scary. I, too, take a step back out of the way.

  She lands hard enough to shake the earth. Her body is the size of a truck now, proving my point. Dragons grow faster than humans and most creatures I’ve come to know.

  “Didn’t one of you say that immortality isn’t reached until adulthood? I don’t think dragons work the same way.” Now I’m worried even more. Can someone kill her? And Patrick threw his ax at the poor thing.

  Who am I even?

  “Aye, it’s why there are so few of us.” Patrick is the one who answers, but I’m not thrilled about it.

  “I feel like that is not realistic, Patrick. There are many immortals in this world now.” I can’t turn around without seeing one.

  “Now, yes. But that wasn’t always the case. We are only even at the moment because a bunch of humans died.” He sips from his flask, his muscles tensing. “It’s Mother Nature, or whatever you want to call the rock we are standing on’s way of keeping the playing field even. More mortals equal what fewer immortals do.”

  I scrub a hand down my face, this lesson feeling one-sided. I’m calling bullshit that humans even have power. But I’ll keep that to myself.

  “Bette.” It’s Casseus this time in my head, answering me. “Don’t you recall my story? Give humans more credit, they can be a bloodthirsty bunch. Violent and intelligent. They learn our weaknesses. Not only that, but gods, Fae, and some others don’t reach their immortality until twenty-seven. Many die before then. There are few who hit immortality before, the strongest among us.”

  I dismiss the conversation entirely as Ember shimmers before us, shifting into a child of no more than eight. Maybe ten. I can’t tell, she’s still short.

  “Someone give her a shirt.” We all divert our eyes, Mac pulling off his shirt and throwing it in her direction. “Ember, when do you reach immortality?” I question, knowing she can understand me, however what isn’t known is if she has figured out how to talk yet.

  Her head cocks to the side, her features more pronounced, still round with youth but becoming more prominent. Yet her eyes, those orange and vertical slits sitting in large orbs pull at my heart. She truly is beautiful. Except the hair, at this point we are just going to have to shave it off. Which is a damn shame because it is so beautiful.

  “One.” Her voice sends a chill up my spin and I involuntarily shiver. Mac and Logan back away, rubbing their ears. Balor stands tall, keeping an eye on her, and the other two look way too intrigued.

  “Immortality at one, check. Why are you aging so fast?”

  “Few.” Her intelligent eyes hold sadness and pain. Again, tugging at something inside me that I didn’t know existed.

  “There aren’t a lot of you, are there?”

  She shakes her head no in slow motion. Her eyes glance to the sky, as though she hopes to catch a glimpse of her brethren.

  “Why were you hanging out in my woods?”

  “Safe.”

  I snort. It wasn’t that safe at all.

  “Bette, think about it.” Casseus bounces from foot to foot. “There are six of us. All different types of immortals. Most never band together, sticking with their own species and ignoring the rest. Wolves stick in packs. Leprechauns, clans. Gods... well, they are mostly assholes, sorry Mac.” Mac just shrugs, neither confirming nor denying that comment. After having dealt with Morrigan, I’m inclined to agree. “Even Balor and the Sluagh stick to themselves.”

  “We are an odd, motley crew, aren’t we?” I muse.

  “A what?” I smirk at Balor’s confusion.

  “We are essentially a powerhouse, Bette, even if we have our moments. We you don’t think we are, but it is true nonetheless. We didn’t kill all those Fae, because they were just a sacrifice. But if we had to, we would have won against all of them.” Casseus bounces around again, I wish he’d stay still. “We really are her best chance at survival.”

  “You are missing one small fact.” Balor kneels before Ember. “They also have the chance to become deathless if she can make it to twenty-seven. Most don’t.”

  Well shit.

  Chapter 10

  Balor

  Sacrifice

  I stand slowly, so I don’t disturb the rare creature before me. There are things to be done and a small frame of time to do it in. Ember’s arrival is at an unfortunate time. One I cannot change, but one I will take seriously. She chose us and I will not fail this creature.

  I back away, looking down at the woman I’m infatuated with, her large violet eyes blinking up at me.

>   “There are things I need to take care of.” All but Mac and Bette know of my plan.

  “What’s that?” She cocks her hip out, her eyes squinting at me as though she knows I am up to something no good.

  I am.

  “I need to talk to the forest dwellers.” The creatures that hide from view, the ones with neutral territory, Fae that hide their nature from all, and gods who prefer to be left alone.

  She raises that dark brow in defiance. It makes my pride swell, her strength alone amazes me. Her nature is softer than what she allows the world to see, yet she’s willing to get her hands dirty if need be. She is a force, one I’m proud to have.

  “Fine. I’m going to talk to Kelsie.” She turns on a heel, not realizing she is still only wearing a sheet. The swell of her ass cheeks peek through the cotton. It is... distracting. Almost as distracting as her moans of pleasure earlier.

  “Patrick, go with her,” I order, then groan, regretting my next words. “Dress her please.”

  He snorts. “My pleasure.”

  Bette looks over her shoulder, her violet eyes widening, and then, with a shrug, she just walks away.

  I doubt she will find Kelsie in town or anywhere near her. I have my suspicious about her rogue best friend, which I’m not quite willing to share just yet, so I keep my opinion to myself and shrouded in my thoughts.

  “Mac.” I lower my voice. “I’m going to claim this area.”

  The laid-back god shrugs. “It was only a matter of time.” His voice gives me no indication of whether or not he agrees.

  “The choices were taken from me.” I glance at the spitfire walking away. “Keep an eye on them.”

  “You taking anyone with you?” Mac asks, probably wondering if he can get some alone time with Casseus. Insatiable immortals.

  “Logan and Ember. I need the shifters for this.” Or rather, I need their unique sense of smell. “Cas, did you get clothing?”

  “Yeah, for a kid!” He walks across the patio, grabbing a pair of pink sweats and a t-shirt.