Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
“
I am and I am waiting for you
,” Danielle replied. “
We’ve many wicked games to play,
Reaper so I can gain those cravings.
”
Arawn laughed out loud and when the others looked at him curiously, he shook his head. “Bad she-wolf,” he mumbled under his breath.
“
Lusting she-wolf
,” she whispered, and then withdrew. With the exception of Owen, the other Reapers were curious about the kumquats and tried them. To a man they decided the skins were delectable but the pulp was too tart for their tastes. As they walked down to the beach to climb into the boat, Iden nudged Jaborn.
“Ever had grits?” Belial asked.
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The Akhkharulian shook his head. “What are they?”
“Salted sand,” Arawn sniped.
“Pulverized parchment,” Cynyr comment.
“They don’t sound appealing,” Jaborn remarked.
“You have to try them with red-eye gravy,” Owen mumbled, and when the others turned to stare at him, he glowered back.
“What is red-eye gravy?” Jaborn asked Iden in a low voice.
“You don’t want to know,” Iden said with a shudder.
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Chapter Thirteen
The captain had relinquished his aft cabin to Arawn out of respect for the man’s rank and position and perhaps a bit of fear. Cabins were allotted to the remaining seven Reapers with Cynyr, Bevyn, Glyn and Owen sharing the first mate’s cabin—extra hammocks strung across the room—and Iden, Phelan and Jaborn sleeping in another. Healer Sorrel and Ash had been given hammocks in the day room. Where the captain and his first mate were bunking was anyone’s guess.
Since none of the men had slept the night before, once the
Bonnie Doneen
was underway, the warriors lay down with only their uniform pants on, each weary and for once not finding it difficult as Reapers do to slip into the arms of Morpheus. Even Owen succumbed to slumber though he tossed and turned in his bunk and moaned now and again. A light rain began to fall gently on the ship, aiding the men to sleep soundly. It was the horrendous scream that woke them and the men moved like lightning to Owen’s side. Arawn ran from his cabin and pushed aside his men to get to Owen. The Reaper was pressed up against the wall—his knees drawn up, eyes wide in terror, mouth open in a silent scream. He was trembling violently and when Arawn sat down on the bunk beside him, Owen lashed out trying to hit the Prime Reaper but Arawn easily caught his flailing fists and kept a taut grip on Owen’s wrists.
“It’s me, Tohre. Everything’s all right and you’re safe,” Arawn said gently, but his voice was stern and brooked no argument. “Calm down now. We’ve got your back, brother.”
Owen shuddered once then his shoulders slumped. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Merciful Alel, but I dreamt—”
“We know,” Arawn said and he drew the Reaper into his arms. If his actions surprised his men, they gave no indication but rather moved out of the cabin to allow Arawn and Owen time alone. As Bevyn was leaving, Arawn asked him to send the healer in to them.
Arawn ran his hand up and down Owen’s back until the younger man relaxed and his breathing grew less ragged. Owen’s forehead rested on the Prime Reaper’s shoulder, his body clammy with cold sweat.
Healer Sorrel came in and it was obvious he knew what was needed for he carried a full vac-syringe of tenerse with him.
“You need to rest, Owen,” Arawn told his warrior. “The healer is going to give you an extra measure of tenerse so you can sleep without dreams.”
“No, I’ll be defenseless!” Owen gasped, his eyes wide once more. 126
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“We are right here with you. No one is going to hurt you, Owen,” Arawn said. “We would never allow it. Your brothers are here with you.”
“Don’t leave me alone, Ari,” Owen pleaded, his wounded eyes searching Arawn’s. Arawn could feel the man’s heart pounding brutally against his side. He glanced up at the healer and Sorrel bent over to administer the fiery payload from the vac-syringe into Owen’s neck.
Moaning at the pain that lanced through him, Owen clenched his teeth and when the needle was withdrawn, slapped a hand over the puncture. “Sweet Alel, that hurts!”
he said. Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his eyes rolled up and he slumped against Arawn.
“Damn it if that shit doesn’t work faster than hot peppers through a man’s bowels,”
Arawn commented, moving off the bunk to ease Owen down into a supine position.
“I gave him a little something extra in with the tenerse,” the healer said. “As soon as I heard him screaming I knew he’d have need of it.” At Arawn’s cocked brow, Sorrel told him he’d been informed of what had happened to Lord Owen. “I assure you,
mo
tiarna
, it will go no further.”
“It had best not,” Arawn agreed in a lethal tone. He adjusted the pillow under Owen’s head then straightened up. “Ask Glyn to come in, will you?”
After bidding Glyn to be close to Owen when the unconscious Reaper awoke, Arawn went back to his cabin. He was still tired and his eyes felt as though the lids had been scoured with sandpaper. He fell into his bunk and stretched out, pulling the pillow over his face to block out what gray light came in through the bank of windows on the port side of the cabin. Almost as soon as he had the pillow comfortably over his head, he was asleep.
* * * * *
Soft hands plied his flesh gently, stroked him, massaged him and ran fingernails over his aching tip, probed at the oozing slit. A sweet, moist tongue ran along his tightening staff to send tremors of pleasure racing through his body. Insistent lips suckled his sac and a tender mouth blew warm breath between his thighs. He lay on his back with his arms flung wide, his legs apart. Completely at the mercy of his phantom lover, he writhed on the sheets, grunting with each lick, each swirl of a wicked tongue on his more-than-willing flesh.
A gentle, firm pressure eased inside him and he groaned as his cock leapt at the invasion. Silken fingers cupped his ass as a finger moved in and out of him, increasing the fire building in his loins.
Weight—slight but solid—flowed over the right side of his body to pin him to the mattress as pliant lips closed around his pap to draw upon the puckered flesh, to tease, to nibble tenderly. His blood began to boil. His hips began to thrust upward. 127
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In and out that slick little finger went in his anus as teeth closed on his pap and he strained to push his rigid cock against the velvety phantom body lying beside him. He groaned, wanting, needing, release from the building lust spiking through him. Lips covered his and a sweet tongue thrust past his to sweep over his teeth, to flick along his palate, to drive deep until he could taste the honey of a loving, giving mouth. Hands were suddenly all over him—tweaking, stroking, massaging and lightly twisting—until he was panting, his breath dragging into his lungs in gasps. Soft as velvet, warm as sunshine, a slick sheath settled over his rigid cock and he shuddered, sighing with utter content as that moist channel began sliding up and down him, lightly squeezing, vibrating around him with increasing urgency. He whimpered. He growled deep in his throat. He arched his hips up to meet the spectral body impaled upon his. He dug his fingers into his pillow and held on as the undulating rhythms of a warm, wet cunt gripped and released him. Gripped and released him, drew upon his burgeoning flesh.
He could feel the tight points of satiny, firm breasts touching his chest and he longed to fling his arms around his lover but there was no corporeal body to embrace. It was a shadow that rode him so lovingly, so thoroughly, that plied his flesh in everincreasing pulses that made him as hard as stone. The slide of velvety thighs rubbing along the outside of his own sent shivers of pleasure racing down his sides. Warm, gentle hands gripped his hips with urgency and held him in place for ravishment.
“Milady,” he whispered, and once more that phantom mouth covered his to muffle the roar of release that suddenly claimed him, to send his lower body thrusting up from the bunk.
Spiraling down as though he had soared to the heights of the heaven, Arawn Gehdrin slumped against the mattress, feeling his heart racing, his blood pumping furiously through his body. He was glistening with sweat and when he opened his eyes, he was amazed to see a pair of beautiful blue eyes peering out of the darkness of his cabin. Astonished, he saw one perfect little orb wink then the eyes vanished to leave a slight trace of gardenia floating about him.
“I love you,” he whispered as he lay there spent, sated.
“
And I love you
,” she whispered in return. “
Go back to sleep.
” There was a pause then a girlish giggle before she amended, “
For now.
”
Arawn swept his hand over his pants to rid himself of them and for a long moment just lay there naked and vulnerable, hoping his lady would return. When he realized she wouldn’t, he sighed deeply and waved his hand to cover his lower body in a pair of black silk pajamas. Turning over to his side, he fluffed the pillow beneath his head and lay basking in the afterglow of the easing his Danielle had sent to him from thousands of miles away.
“
Liked that cake, did you,
mo shearc?” she cooed to him. He smiled and closed his eyes, wondering if she would come to him again before the morning light.
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He had two hours of uninterrupted sleep before her hands began to crawl over his body once more.
* * * * *
Owen woke to Glyn’s arms wrapped tightly around him, Kullen’s gentle voice telling him everything would be all right. He turned to bury his face against his friend’s shoulder and refused to let loose the tears that pricked at the back of his eyes. No, Owen thought. Nothing would ever be the same again.
* * * * *
In the privacy of her bedroom at the Citadel, Lea lay wide awake and stared angrily at the ceiling above her. In lupine and human form she had torn the room apart in her fury and nothing remained there that had not been ripped, crushed, broken or wrecked. Destruction reigned in the once beautiful chamber beyond as well. It looked for the entire world as though a fierce tornado had whipped through the rooms. Claw marks dragged down every wall and large holes had been punched through in places. Fang marks scored the arms of chairs. A rancid, pungent smell clung to the carpet.
Crouched naked on all fours in the ruin of what had once been the bed she had shared with the mate who had claimed her as his, she snarled like the cornered animal she considered herself, her lips peeled back from her teeth. Her eyes tracked back and forth as those of a predator would—searching for prey. She threw back her head and howled in frustration for there was nothing left upon which to vent her rage. Bevyn had never allowed her to see him in Transition and she now understood why. The pain involved in changing was nearly unbearable and it would have torn the heart from her to see her mate suffering so. Her own pain she could endure but Bevyn’s? That would be too much to be asked to view. That such agony would be hers from now until the end of time instilled in her a rage that was hard to contain.
“Bastard,” she hissed, but it was not her mate she labeled in that way. She knew all too well who was to blame for the condition in which she now found herself. Thoughts of Bevyn pushed aside the grim face of Kheelan Ben-Alkazar and Lea hissed again, hating the High Lord with every fiber of her being. Her back arched like that of a cat and she howled again—so loud that what was left of the chandelier in the sitting room tinkled. She spun around on the destroyed mattress then collapsed to her side, making a keening sound that hurt her own ears.
“Bevyn,” she moaned.
She loved him. He was the only thing in her life she had ever loved but she had known she would never be what he wanted her to be so she had been prepared to leave him. She had known as surely as she drew breath that had death reached up to claim her, Bevyn would have taken her—kicking and screaming—into his world. She would 129
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have fought him tooth and nail but in the end, his will would have prevailed and she’d always known that. He would refuse to live without her and she didn’t want to live with him under the threat of becoming like him.
Now, the point was moot. The decision had been taken away from either of them and for that she was nearly insane with grief and rage. Her body had not been her own since the day she had met Bevyn Coure, but now her life no longer belonged to her either. She existed in a horrifying world that made her part human, part animal and she was finding it as terrifying and disgusting to accept as she knew she would.
“Bevyn!” she spat, and reached for the nearest thing upon which to take out her aggravation. It was a slender silver necklace he had given her on the anniversary of their fifth year together.
Gripping the delicate chain between her hands, she meant to rip it asunder but the small claddagh medallion that hung from it caught her eye and she whimpered.
“The heart signifies my love for you. It beats for you and you alone,” he had said as he placed the chain around her neck. “The hands are my hands held out to you in friendship and for protection. The crown is there to remind you that I will forever be loyal to you. No other will I have for as long as there is time and beyond.”
Tears slid unbidden down Lea’s cheeks and she clasped the necklace to her breast. It felt cool against her skin but—just as her mate’s fingers always did when they touched her—it turned warm and with it came an image of Bevyn’s boyish smile. She knew it would be wrong to blame Bevyn for what had happened to her. He might be the one to reap the benefits of someone else’s perfidy and would most likely curse her assailant for hurting her, but secretly he would bless her attacker as well for allowing him to have her at his side forever.
Now that the deed was done and there was no turning back, Lea had begun to grudgingly accept it, though it hurt her to her very soul that she had had no choice in the matter. She doubted she would ever embrace it as Aingeal and Danielle had, but once Bevyn was home, she would not rant and rave against her predicament. What good would that do? she asked herself.