Which Witch is Willing? (The Witches of Port Townsend Book 4)

by Kerrigan Byrne

  Okay, that could be handy when she got into a scrap—which seemed to be happening too often of late—but what if she wanted to be lost, hidden from him? Be freaking alone? “Can you eavesdrop on my thoughts like Dru does with Claire?” That was sobering. Her thoughts were her own. And they needed to remain that way. There were just some things no one needed to know.

  “Maybe in time, if you open that door. It’s been a millennium since a human has become immortal, therefore the benefits are uncertain.” He released the tie on her skirt and it pooled at her feet. He dragged in a deep breath, taking her in. She only wore a strap of thin white silk covering her nether region. He hooked his fingers in the elastic and slowly knelt, drawing them down her thighs. He held her hips as she stepped out of them. Instead of rising, he gazed up at her, letting her see the passion and love reflected in his eyes and the reedy hold he had on his control.

  Slowly, he leaned forward and laid his lips to her extended belly, his hands splaying wide over her abdomen, wonder in his gentle caress.

  Her heartbeat kicked up a notch and her breath turned choppy. How could he do this to her with just one look, one touch? She had to take control of their conversation before he had her under him again and she lost all ability to think straight.

  “What are the consequences?” she asked.

  He flicked her a glance, letting her know he was aware of her tactics. “What is keeping you from admitting your love for me?” he countered, rising to tower above her. He reached behind him and grabbed a handful of his black t-shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing his glorious chest and ripped abdomen.

  “You are not taking a shower with me.”

  “That is where you are wrong.” He unbuttoned his jeans and slid the zipper down.

  “See, there you go, making decisions for me again.” She let her temper flood through her welcoming how it cooled the heat in her blood and the yearning to touch him, grab him, take him.

  “When it comes to keeping you safe, I will do whatever it takes. You shouldn’t be alone. Not until you are back to full strength.” He dragged his boxers off with his jeans and stood resplendently nude in front of her, his erection jutting hard and proud.

  She had to swallow in order to speak, her mouth watering at the sight of how much he wanted her. “That isn’t what I was talking about.” Well, it was, but it was just the zenith of the mountain between them when it came to him making decisions for her.

  “What are you taking about?” He clearly looked confused.

  Men.

  They were clueless creatures, no matter if they were of the immortal variety or not. But then had she really taken the time to talk with him like this, state her concerns?

  Probably not.

  She’d just figured he should know why she was upset, and that was on her. How did she put into words what she needed? Wanted?

  “Never mind,” she mumbled, instantly regretting her choice of words. Sure, give him the classic female response. Never mind was right up there with fine. “Wait. I do mind. From the beginning, you have never asked for my permission, or for any promises from me. You have always decided what you think is best for us. That is medieval thinking and I don’t like it. I’m not a maiden of old. I’ve been born of this day and age and it’s past time that you adapted.”

  His jaw clenched at her words.

  “What if I want a divorce?” she continued. “Or whatever the equivalent is for breaking this bond you’ve forced on me.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a hard shake. “That will not be happen. Ever. You are mine. I am yours. The sooner you come to terms with that the better for everyone.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Take it however you want it. I will never let you go.” He yanked her to him and kissed her. There was nothing soft or loving in the meeting of his mouth against hers, it was a branding, a searing pronouncement of possession. He released her as quickly as he grabbed her. “Open your eyes, woman. I know you love me. What more must I do so for you to see the forest through the trees?”

  Her heart clenched at his words, his soul stripped bare for her to see, the pain swimming in his eyes at her attempts to push him away. “I need time. You just told me that I will live forever, forever with you. That’s a lot to swallow.” Especially with everything else on her plate.

  He released her, his fingers brushing over the tops of her breasts. “Do you remember that night when you danced naked under the harvest moon for me?”

  She gave a jerky nod, feeling the heat of her blush at the memory. She’d been drunk on him. They’d spent the whole day getting reacquainted with each other after she’d recused him from Hell, and he’d squirreled her away to the Garden of Eden. It had only been them, no end of the world problems to worry about, an abundance of food to eat, the temperatures tropical with just the right amount of humidity that the air caressed her bare skin. She hadn’t been able to get enough of him.

  “Remember how you felt that night. How you loved me unconditionally with your body, your essence. The peace, the joy, the euphoria? That is our future, what we can have together for eternity. I knew I loved you before then, but I fell deeper under your spell that night. You delight and enchant me, my gazelle, forever and always. There is no one for me but you.” This time when he kissed her it was filled with wonder and tenderness like she was the most treasured thing in the world.

  She melted against him, her arms tangling around his neck. He crushed her body to his for a brief moment and then broke the kiss. “Your body has never lied to me. It isn’t only desire that brings us together. We’ve always been fated. Everything I have done is for your protection.”

  “Bonding me to you was for my protection?” Come on, she wasn’t born yesterday.

  He paused. “In truth, it was more for my…protection.”

  “How so?”

  He shifted on his feet and it took him a moment to respond. “I couldn’t face losing you.”

  “Losing me or access to our child?”

  He physically struggled with his answer. “To be honest, in the beginning, both.” Laying a hand on her belly, he continued, “What we have created is a miracle, one I thought never to experience. But you…you consume me.” He laid his other hand over her heart. “You are my world, my everything.”

  And just like that her temper dissipated and something bright and promising blossomed in her heart. Her throat clogged with emotion and her eyes filled with moisture. Oh, Goddess, she did love him. It had been fear keeping her from realizing how much.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as he wiped at the tears that trailed down her cheeks.

  “Because, I love you.”

  “And that makes you sad?”

  “Quite the opposite.” She gently placed her lips over his heart.

  He crushed her to him, his arms like bands of iron, and his body shuddered against hers. Then he was kissing her, her mouth, her cheeks, mumbling words she couldn’t make sense of, but understood deep in her soul.

  Steam from the forgotten shower drifted around them, cocooning them in their own enchanted haven. Tenderly, he assisted her into the shower and then lovingly washed every inch of her, taking his time, worshipping her until her need for him left her trembling.

  He turned off the water and reverently dried her off, running his fingers through her hair to untangle the knots. Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he followed her down to the mattress and preceded to show her the depths of his devotion.

  Their bodies came together, until their souls intertwined, sealing the promises they’d already spoken.

  13

  Tierra woke in Killian’s arms to find him raised up on his elbow gazing down at her. “Morning, my gazelle,” he purred. Well, as much as Death could purr. Not quite the sound Jinx made, but it had all the contentment and satisfaction of an adored pet teeming in the deep timbre. He traced a finger down her cheek and then anchored a stran
d of her hair behind her ear. “I do apologize for not allowing you much rest.”

  “I highly doubt you are that sorry.” Her lips quirked into a smile. She could get used to this, waking in his arms, starting her day losing herself in his dark and dreamy eyes.

  “There you are mistaken. I’ve realized after our discussion, that I have failed in asking you a crucial question.” He opened his palm and revealed the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen. Formed of silver and gold, a tree of life laced with emerald leaves glimmered in his palm. “Will you consent to marry me?”

  Tears filled her eyes and her heart expanded in her chest, threatening to burst free. “Wherever did you find that?”

  “It found me. I’ve had it stowed away at Châteaux Morte since Malcolm de Moray gifted it to me centuries ago and asked that I give it to the woman who would own my heart. You are that woman and my heart is truly yours. I love you with all my soul. Tell me you will be mine.”

  He seemed nervous, regarding her with anxious eyes. A smile spread over her face. Looked as if her medieval man was learning. “Yes,” she whispered and held out her hand for him to slip the exquisite ring on her finger. Once the ring was in place, he lifted it to his lips, the action so sweet and tender that tears flowed down her cheeks. He wiped them away and kissed her, sealing their union.

  “Are you well?” His fingers trailed down her neck to her collarbone where he lightly traced the outline of her bones.

  She understood that he was asking if she was willing and able for another round of love making. Case in point, the large member enthusiastically pressing against her hip. Mating with a Horseman, who by all accounts had a vigorous sexual appetite, was something to thank the Goddess for. She’d never hunger for orgasms like so many married women she’d talked to over the years. Another reason she’d waited so long to finally have sex. But one look at Killian in Sirens and she’d offered up her maidenhead without a second thought. Part of her must have understood that this man was her man.

  She’d never believed in fate or destiny, but maybe there was something to it. After all, how did she discount them coming together like they had?

  “I will always be well enough.” She slipped her hand under the sheets and wrapped her fingers around him. He groaned and his head fell back on his shoulders.

  He might have her number, but she was very adept when it came to figures.

  A long time later, Tierra found her sisters in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Killian had headed upstairs to check on Julian’s progress. Pestilence hadn’t left the Sanctuary since they’d returned from Châteaux Morte. She doubted he’d even taken time to eat or sleep in his search through their mother’s treasured things.

  The world might look bleak, but hers was all sunshine and rainbows after clearing the air with Killian last night and then making love with him until the sun rose. She couldn’t get enough of him. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones? Most likely it was the love she’d been suppressing. Not anymore, the gates had busted wide open.

  Jinx hadn’t even hissed at Killian when she’d jumped on the bed to find him curled around Tierra. Though she hadn’t quite accepted him, eyeing him with that all-to-knowing green-eyed stare. They’d find a way to get along. Jinx would relax her guard once she understood how much Killian cared for Tierra.

  “For the love of the Goddess, Tierra, dial it back,” Claire grumbled into her coffee cup.

  “Dial what back?” she asked.

  “The sexual pheromones,” Aerin gripped. “Have you taken a look around?” She gestured to the solarium where the plants had doubled in size overnight, their enormous flowers scenting the room. It resembled spring instead of winter outside the windows. Even the grass had repealed its dormant winter slumber, turning verdurous and now needed a good mowing.

  “It’s not only the vegetation she’s affectin’,” Moira mumbled. “I’m about ready to offer up an ovary to ride a Horseman.”

  “Amen, sister.” Aerin looked wishfully into her coffee. “But Julian is more interested in books, than me.”

  “I take it you’re over the whole immortal thing,” Claire said.

  “Not over, exactly,” Tierra admitted. “More like I’m coming to terms with it.” She didn’t think she’d ever be over it. For now, she was choosing not to think about it.

  “Have anything to do with all that orgasmic screamin’ comin’ from your room last night and this morning?” Moira asked.

  Heat flared in her cheeks, but she was too happy to be embarrassed for long. “Maybe.” She filled the kettle and set it on to heat.

  “Oh, dear Goddess, you are in love with him!” Aerin exclaimed.

  “Guilty,” she admitted with a sappy smile. She held up her hand and showed them her ring. “He asked me to marry me. Actually asked.”

  Claire squealed, jumping up and embracing Tierra. “I’m so happy for you. For you both. We have to plan a wedding.”

  “I’d love a spring wedding.” She sighed at the thought. She’d always wanted a spring wedding as the season represented new beginnings and rebirth. By then—if they’d survived the Apocalypse—she’d be a new mom and wouldn’t have to waddle down the aisle. She tried to dial back her joy as not all of her sisters were content with their love life. Part of her felt bad about that, the other wished they could see through their obstacles like Claire and she had.

  Obviously, this Apocalypse depended on all of them. Each elemental witch and each Horsemen mating together to form something epic. Goddess she hoped so. Claire had bonded with War, and her with Death, but the other two were still up on the air.

  “Seems redundant to have a wedding when you are already bonded,” Aerin muttered, “and immortal.”

  “Bonded without her permission, remember?” Moira said. “I think a weddin’ is just what we need. We’ll make sure there is plenty of booze at the reception so that you can suffer through it in style, Aerin.”

  “I’ve located the book.” Julian entered into the kitchen.

  Tierra stared. Normally Julian wore impeccable suits, some accessorized with a cravat. But this morning, his suit jacket was absent, the cuffs of his white dress shirt were rolled to the elbows, and his long black hair shot with strands of sliver and usually tied back with a strap of leather, flowed wild about his face and shoulders. “My brothers are waiting for you to join us in the parlor.”

  Tierra turned off the heat under the kettle and followed her sisters as they traipsed after Julian. He took up a position beside the hearth. Killian reached for Tierra’s hand and drew her to the loveseat where he sat next to her, his arm anchoring her to his side.

  Claire sat beside a frowning Dru on the windowseat, but left enough space that they weren’t touching. It didn’t seem as though Claire had taken the news of her possibly living forever any better than Tierra had.

  Aerin and Moira took the sofa, leaving Nick to perch uncomfortably on the edge of the Queen Anne chair, glowering at Moira with lust and irritation.

  Julian got the meeting underway by holding up a leather volume. “While this book matches the others in the Paladin Planetary Magic it has obviously not aged like the others have, which means Stain the Wanderer must have brought it forward through the stones like we believed.”

  “We don’t need a history lesson. Get to the good part,” Nick grumbled, his eyes never leaving the long expanse of Moira’s bare legs.

  “We’ve been amiss in how we’ve regarded the Seals,” Julian continued. “In reality, they are tumblers in a complicated lock, each cleansing the earth in preparation for the Goddess to be released from her prison. We were created to bring about the Apocalypse.” Julian shared a look with each of this brothers. “Yet we have failed her with our compliance, our contentment of living in this world. We’ve fallen for the temptations of the Devil, seduced into believing what she’d told us. When our real purpose has always been as the harbingers to lead the crusade for the Goddess, and we’ve lost our way.”

  “May I see that?” Moira reached f
or the book and started reading the page Julian indicated. “The Goddess will be released from her prison on the event of the seventh Seal being opened by the four born of one.”

  “Wait,” Claire said. “Is that book actually saying we need to open the last Seal?”

  “I knew it,” Aerin said, her eyes alight with the promise of power. “We are the new order.”

  “You make us sound like Nazis,” Tierra commented. “Besides, it says the Goddess will be released.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Claire said. “This one book says we need to open the last Seal while nothing else we’ve come across even hints of something like that. Where is the proof to back this up? How can we trust that this book is right?”

  “Moira, show them the picture on the next page,” Julian instructed.

  She turned the page and gasped. “It’s…us.” She held up the volume and showed the intricate drawing of four identical women standing in a circle, wearing their elemental crowns and holding wands from the tree of life.

  “That’s me,” Aerin said. “And I have my crown. I’m finally going to get that sucker.”

  “There’s more. Read the top of the next page, Moira.” Julian didn’t take his eyes off of Aerin as Moira translated the indicated text.

  “The four born of one will conceive two children, one good and one evil, keeping all things in balance so that the earth will be restored for the coming of the Goddess’ time to rule.”

  Moira glanced up at Tierra, and she laid a protective hand over her belly.

  Please Goddess, let my child be the good one.

  Killian tightened his hold on her hand, giving her much needed reassurance.

  “One good and one evil?” Tierra repeated hoarsely. “I’ve had an ultrasound. I’m not pregnant with twins. Just one little baby swimming around in here.”

  Which left the question, who else among her sisters was pregnant?