Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3) (23 page)

With one last threatening glare at Ramsay, she marched toward Eryx.

Ramsay chuckled under his breath and pulled Trinity flush against him, inhaling deep in a cozy Saturday morning kind of way.

Behind them the door snicked shut.

“How can you laugh? Lexi looked like she was about to take garden shears to your neck.”

His laughter grew to the point it rattled through Trinity pinned against him. “If you knew how many times I’ve had my general existence threatened where you’re concerned in the last few days you’d chuckle too.”

She snapped her head back for eye contact. “Dad threatened you?”

“And Lexi. Though for some reason her threats always entail the loss of my genitals. I’m more inclined to be worried about hers over your dad’s. At least if he took me out, it’d be short and quick.”

Trinity fisted her hand in his drast as all the thoughts and worries of the last hour rushed to the front row of her mind. “I should have told you. Should have stayed and told him too.”

“Told me what?”

Damn but the room felt hot. Ramsay’s body practically burned against hers, and her heart seemed saturated with adrenaline. If Ramsay could say it, surely she could.

The words battled up her throat. “That I love you.”

Ramsay froze and his smile faltered.

Oh, boy. Not exactly the reaction she’d hoped for. “If I’d said it out loud, admitted it instead of holding it in, he wouldn’t have threatened you.”

His smile faded entirely, a heavy lidded smolder taking its place and tapping into every erotic point without so much as a touch. He cupped the back of her head. “Say it again.”

She tried to swallow. Tried to breathe. Not an easy task with his intensity bearing down on her. “I love you, too.”

Ramsay’s gaze roamed her face, lingering on her lips before lifting to her eyes. “Sunshine.”

“What?”

“Everything about you is bright. The kind of light that makes a solitary man step out of the shadows.”

Her belly rippled in one of those mark-that-one-down-for-history flutters. For a guy who claimed not to know how to do relationships, he seemed to be a quick study.

He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. “Your dad would have threatened me whether you told him how you felt or not. It’s what a father does when a man states his intentions toward his daughter. A last chance to ensure her happiness before he lets her go.”

“You asked him?”

Ramsay nodded, his eyes never wavering from hers.

“And he said?”

“He said he’ll bless and support whatever choice you make.” His fingers flexed against her nape and he pulled her closer. “Choose me, Trinity. Take me as your fireann. Bear my mark and be my mate.”

Oh, God. Oh-God-oh-God-oh-God. She gripped his drast so tight her nails snagged in the fine weave. “Don’t we need more time? I mean, get to know each other better first?”

“Why? I already know you’re the brightest, purest thing to ever touch my life. I know you’ve got an innocent passion that stirs something in me I’d never thought to connect with. I know I’d work until I couldn’t stand to give you what you want or need, and that I’d happily give up my life to protect you.” His lips hovered close. “What else do I need to know?”

Her heartbeat was the only sound that registered. A warbled and frantic
ka-thump-a, ka-thump-a, ka-thump-a
that left a sharp pain in its wake. Not one dog-gone thing from her mind to add to the conversation.

Listen to your heart. Trust it and everything will work out like it needs to.

Could she really leap like this?

When passion hits you, don’t run from it. Embrace it. Revel in it. Then you’ll know what it means to truly live.

One of the last things her dad had said before she met Ramsay that fateful night.

She was Spiritu. A Dark Spiritu. Why couldn’t she follow her heart? Her passion? Her love?

She curled her fingers around his nape, knuckles brushing against the delicious weight of his thick hair as she let loose and tumbled into the risky abyss. “I choose you.”

R
amsay paced
the castle foyer and paused beside the mammoth arched window overlooking the terrace and gardens. Five minutes. That’s all he’d give Trinity’s posse to deliver her before he headed up to collect her himself.

He turned for a fresh lap. Over a hundred and fifty years old and the last twenty-four hours had been the longest, most uncomfortable of them all. A heck of a statement considering some of the battles he’d been in. Since the time she’d agreed to be his mate, he’d barely seen Trinity save holding her while they slept the night before. Or, more accurately, while she slept. He’d tossed and turned, rehashing his plans for the mating and worrying through details he might have left uncovered.

Laughter trilled from the royal suite on the top floor.

Damned women. Lexi had corralled Trinity the minute she heard the news and hoarded her away with the rest of the girls to plan. According to Eryx, they’d re-assembled
en masse
hours ago. Lexi, Orla, Galena, Jillian and Brenna, all laughing and huddled around Trinity in a way that promised unacceptable delays.

He mentally checked the sun’s position. Maybe he should tell Eryx to bring her down now. Any longer and they’d risk missing sunset.

Heavy, muted footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs.

Ramsay spun, a battle’s worth of excitement peaking all at once.

Eryx started down the staircase and cast a bemused grin at Ramsay.

“Where’s Trinity?” Ramsay said.

“Coming.” The bastard didn’t seem the least bit worried.

Damn it, he knew how important tonight was. How he’d hustled to get everything just right. “You’re supposed to bring her down.”

“Not anymore I’m not.” He glanced up at the landing. “You should brace.”

A man dressed all in black and a woman in white strolled onto the staircase landing above. The man guided his partner with her hand in his in an old-fashioned, courtly gesture.

Something breeze-like swept down the staircase and billowed out into the foyer, though instead of cooling his skin, it snipped and tingled the same as an oncoming electrical storm.

“Who in histus is that?”
he said to Eryx.

“The Black King and the White Queen. Quite the sendoff for your woman.”

No shit. Size-wise they weren’t anything special, but their presence was larger than life. Awe inspiring and terrifying all at once.
“They say why?”

“Something about the monumental joining of two races making their attendance necessary.”

Ramsay stalked to the foot of the stairs, Eryx in lockstep beside him.

The couple floated down the stairway, their legs seemingly motionless.

A flash of red caught his eye from above, Trinity with Kazan and Lexi on either side.

Screw the king and queen. They might be powerful enough to flatten the damned castle, or maybe even their whole race, but in that moment they were inconsequential.

Instead of the white gown he’d found and delivered to her, Trinity was decked out in a fire-engine-red dress, its train so full and long it still hadn’t made its way out of the hallway behind her. Whatever the fabric was, it suited her, like what a ballet dancer would wear, but lighter. The body of it had a Grecian style, accenting her curves and fastened with a sparkling silver clasp at the shoulder.

Trinity smiled, a heart-stopping, ear-to-ear one capable of obliterating any shadows in its trajectory.

“Always gratifying to see a suitor tongue-tied,” the White Queen said. Her attire was too sensual to be called anything but erotic, her breasts covered in a nearly translucent fabric that hinted at dark areolas beneath, and a long skirt hanging low and provocative on her hips. Sparkling crystals marked her midriff to match the circlet atop her head.

“I think he likes our gift,” the queen said to her mate before sliding her gaze back to Ramsay. “Red’s a fine color on her, don’t you think?”

Nothing about Trinity in that dress fell under the definition of fine. Gorgeous. Devastating. Fucking dangerous.

The queen hooked her arm around the king’s and snuggled close. Her low chuckle filtered through the room, the same resonance and beauty of distant sanctuary bells on a spring morning. “Oh, yes. I think he likes our gift.” She lifted her face to her mate. “Mayhap now that our Trinity has opened his heart he’ll be more receptive to the voice of his Spiritu.”

Ramsay’s mind lurched out of its stupor. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The Black King laughed, a full-bodied sound meant for feasts and post-battle celebrations. “Your Spiritu. Vyree. She’s a persistent thing for all the good it’s done her. Of all her charges, she complains of your stubborn resistance the most.”

His Spiritu was a woman? He didn’t remember hearing a woman in his head. Did that mean—

“You haven’t heard her because you’ve blocked her voice,” the Black King answered. “Your thoughts have been your own. No spark save those generated by your own mind or The Great One himself. Only the most lost soul can ignore His influence.”

Trinity neared the bottom of the stairs. A pretty flush marked her cheeks, nowhere near as deep as the color of her dress, but a perfect accent all the same. She started to duck her head, but checked it at the last second and kept her eyes locked to his.

Mine.

No outside sway to push them against their will. No dictate save fate and their own hearts.

With his gaze still on Trinity, he spoke to Eryx. “You talked to her?”

“All she needs to know,” Eryx said.

Lexi covered her mouth with one hand and looked away, clearing her throat.

“And someone else may have added a hair more than they should have,” Eryx tacked on dryly.

Figured. Lexi wasn’t exactly on board with the rigid Myren custom of keeping mating details from unmated women, even if she’d been through it herself and understood its purpose.

Ramsay stepped forward, ready to collect his would-be mate and get his plans in motion.

“A moment.” The Black King lifted his hand with a flourish, and a thick black lacquer box about twelve inches wide appeared in his palm. He drifted toward Trinity in the odd manner of movement all Spiritu seemed to employ. Well, all except Kazan. For some reason, he seemed more human than the rest. Did that mean they all had individual nuances? Or just certain ones?

The Black King opened the lid and showed the contents to Trinity.

From Ramsay’s vantage point, all he could make out was a black velvet surface and something large nestled in the center. A rock, or a gemstone of some kind.

Low words rumbled from the Black King for Trinity alone, the string of information too hushed for Ramsay to catch even with his Myren hearing.

Beside Trinity, Lexi hunched closer to the box, scrutinizing its contents.

The Black King closed the lid and handed the box to Trinity.

Trinity bobbed a tiny bow and passed it to Lexi, who tucked it close.

Floating back to his place beside the White Queen, the king grinned at Ramsay. “I believe we’ve kept your patience at bay long enough. Make your request and do so with the blessing of those who share her heritage.”

Ramsay strode forward. With every step, the people around him seemed to fade.

Everyone save Trinity.

He wanted to sweep her up and out the door. To cart her away and peel the red confection off her. To fit his body against hers and take what the most primal part of him recognized as his. He offered his hand instead. “Will you go with me, Trinity? Will you hear my vow and consider our future?”

Her smile nearly knocked him over, the power of it blinding. She glanced up at her father.

Warmth shone in his response, but pain was there too. Or worry.

Would he feel that someday? Have a daughter of his own and fight back his own worries and demons as he watched her leave under the care of another man?

Kazan released Trinity’s hand and she placed it in Ramsay’s.

He tucked her in the circle of his arm and guided her to the entrance, pushing the double doors wide with his mind.

Sunshine spilled through the entry, deep shades of gold and orange coloring the beams as the sun began its final decent.

Almost alone. Almost time to claim the one thing he’d never thought he’d have.

“A reminder, warrior,” the Black King said.

Ramsay hesitated.

The Black King continued, “This mating is the first of its kind. One that may not be easily formed. I suggest you use the resources at your disposal.”

Trinity tried to pull away and opened her mouth.

Before she could speak, Ramsay said, “I’ve noticed the Spiritu prefer hints over explicit directions. I take it this is one of those intricately laid clues?”

The king smirked and wrapped his arm around his queen. “Consider it my mating gift.”

* * *

T
rinity mashed
and wriggled the red tulle train bundled in her arms beneath her chin for the fourth time in under ten minutes. No way was she missing one minute of the fantastic colors stretched along the western horizon as she and Ramsay flew through the air.

Ramsay tightened his arm around her waist and tucked the escaped portion of her train back with the rest. “Not the most practical gown they could’ve picked out, but I have to admit it makes a killer impact.”

She twisted enough to meet his eyes. “You’re not mad I didn’t wear the one you got me?”

He shook his head and kissed her temple. His lips lingered and he pressed his hips suggestively against her bottom. “As long as you’re happy and I’m the one unwrapping you, I don’t care how you dress the package.”

She smacked his shoulder, a playful swat that let the tail end of her train slip free again, whipping in the wind behind them. Another gust caught it and yanked the bundle from her arms.

Trinity shrieked and tried to pull the fluttering tulle back in.

“Leave it.” Ramsay turned her so her chest pressed to his. He rolled to his back so the ground skimmed by below them, her train waving in the wind like an elegant kite on a perfect windy day. “We’re almost there, and I don’t plan on letting you keep it on long anyway.”

Her belly fluttered to match the fabric waving behind them. Ramsay on the prowl was one thing, but the man holding her tonight was something more. His whole demeanor was different. Raw. Vulnerable. A fearless man who’d tossed his emotional armor aside.

“Kiss me, Trinity.” He swept a hand up the length of her spine and cupped her nape. “Close your eyes and kiss me, and I’ll show you my surprise.”

He seemed so blasé, utterly confident in seducing her a good hundred or so feet above the ground without so much as a glance to check the direction they were headed. Then again, he’d been doing this a heck of a lot longer than she had.

He grinned, a little lopsided and a whole lot devious. The same daring look he’d used on her the night they’d met.

She lowered her head.

God, but she loved the feel of his mouth against hers. So, full and warm. A perfect fit that scattered her thoughts and worries with a single press.

She anchored her fingers in his hair and levered herself up to deepen the kiss. He tasted of his favorite Scotch, spicy and bold with a hint of vanilla. A nearly addicting warmth, like everything else she’d grown to crave about him. The brazen sweep of his tongue against hers, the way he lured her surrender, the absolute command and control he exercised against her senses—yeah, she was definitely a goner. And darn it if letting go didn’t feel divine.

He fisted her hair, limiting the depth of their kiss. He nipped her lower lip. “Easy.” He licked the same spot and teased his mouth against hers. “Too much of that and you’ll make me flub all my carefully laid plans.”

The world around them shifted as Ramsay rotated their bodies so their feet aimed toward the earth.

She smiled against his lips, reveling in the way his warm breath mingled with hers and the hard beat of his heart beneath her palm. “You’re not supposed to be able to resist me. I might need to call in my tutor for additional instruction.”

He froze, pulled away, and studied her face. The salt-tinged ocean breeze batted them on all sides. “Resisting you isn’t an option. I tried and it didn’t work. My heart might have been gun shy at the start, but my soul recognized yours from the first instant.” His mouth twitched in a sheepish smile. Kind of like his internal man-meter had kicked in and cried foul for treading into sappy territory. “Ready for the surprise?”

Nope, not really.

My soul recognized yours from the first instant.

Yeah, that was way too high on the raw confession scale to rush into more surprises. “Okay,” she said instead.

His smile jumped to killer proportions, a flash of the vibrant youth he’d likely once been mingled with the powerful man he’d become. No walls between them. No pretense or playboy moves.

All her emotions resonated into one unrepentant blast. Joy, wonder, gratitude and love. Each of them nestled deep in her heart, something profoundly protective and compelling mushrooming up with determination to protect what he’d laid bare.

He turned her around and pulled her back against his chest. “What do you think?”