Dark Alpha's Awakening--A Reaper Novel Page 11

She closed her eyes as she thought of Cael. There was a good chance that she wouldn’t be able to let him go, that she would hold onto him with everything she had.

  But was that wise?

  She refused to even go down that road right now. Her body was satiated from their lovemaking. Somehow, that had cleared her mind of all the static that had been there since she’d discovered that Bran had broken free of the Netherworld.

  Now, she could think straight again, and she knew that she and Cael both needed to be focused on the battle. They couldn’t talk about their feelings or what their lovemaking might mean.

  It went against everything she wanted to do while lying in his arms. But she had to think of the future—Cael’s future.

  She listened to his even breathing and realized that he’d fallen asleep. In all her eons of life, she’d never slept in another’s arms. The fact that her first time was with Cael made the moment all the sweeter.

  Suddenly, she was rolled onto her back, Cael’s silver eyes locked on her. “No more thoughts,” he ordered.

  “But—” she began.

  His eyes narrowed. “No.”

  A little thrill went through her once more. For a being who had always been in charge and in control, she’d longed to find a man who didn’t let who she was intimidate him in any way.

  And Cael gave her exactly what she needed without her even having to tell him.

  Their lips met in a frenzied kiss as desire exploded again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Not even in the comfort of Erith’s arms could Cael shut off his mind. He’d joked with her about her thoughts, but only because he hadn’t been able to stop his own.

  He’d lost count of the many times they had made love. Sometimes, it was slow. Sometimes, fast and hurried as if they knew they were running out of time.

  The sun had set long ago. Through the open window, he heard an owl in the distance. He should be relishing every second with Erith, but his mind was locked on one thing—Bran.

  Cael cursed the very thought of the bastard, but he had to grudgingly admit that if Bran hadn’t come back into their lives, Cael would never be in Erith’s bed. He knew that as surely as he knew that his love for her would never end.

  He lay curled around her, his front to her back. One of his hands was entwined with hers. For such a small woman, she tended to take up more than her share of the covers, but it didn’t irritate, it only endeared her to him. He never used the blankets anyway.

  “I can hear your thoughts.”

  The way she threw his words back at him made him grin. She tucked her head in such a way that half her face was in the sheets at all times. He discovered that there wasn’t anything about Death that wasn’t fascinating, if a little peculiar.

  He kissed her bare shoulder. “Did I wake you?”

  She shifted the covers and drew in a deep breath as she turned her head toward him. “I go to sleep, then I feel so guilty about having this time that I wake up.”

  “Guilty?” That’s not how he wanted her to think of their time together.

  Erith turned in his arms. They lay facing each other, her usually perfectly coifed hair in complete disarray. With her mussed hair, sleepy eyes, and soft smile, she was stunning. Disarmingly so.

  “Here we are, having quite a lot of enjoyable sex, while the others are preparing for Bran.”

  Cael smoothed back a lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “Trust me, every single one of them is going to have sex as soon as they can.”

  She smiled, but it was fleeting. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do. I told my men to find places to hide their women, just as we spoke about.”

  “That’s just it.” Erith licked her lips. “It never dawned on me that I know the perfect place for them.”

  Cael frowned, wondering where that could be. “Where?”

  “Here.”

  He studied her closely. The one thing Erith didn’t do was make an offer without thinking it through, yet he had to play Devil’s advocate. “This is your sanctuary.”

  “A place where Bran can’t come. A place only you, me, and Eoghan know about.”

  “If you bring the others here, they’ll know, as well.”

  She grinned, the smile so bright that it blinded him. “We bring them here as they sleep. The women will never know. I can still have my sanctuary, the females will be safe from Bran, and the Reapers can fight without worrying about those they love.”

  No matter how Cael looked at it, it was a solid plan. “Are you sure?”

  “I want to do this.”

  “Then I suppose we should do it now.” The sooner the women were safe, the better, but Cael was irrationally angry that his time with Erith was coming to an end.

  She put her hand on his jaw and gently rubbed her thumb across his cheek. He thought she might remind him that what happened between them needed to stay private. As if he needed to be told that. He had no intention of letting anyone know what had transpired.

  Instead, Erith leaned forward and briefly placed her lips against his. “I don’t want this amazing time we’ve had to end, but I’m needed.”

  Gone was the pliant, passionate woman who had waited for his command. Death had returned, and that meant Cael was back in his role as leader. He would always stand beside her, ready to do as she ordered.

  But he would get her in his bed again. Because he wouldn’t be able to survive without her. That much he knew.

  He stopped her before she rolled away and dragged her against him for a long, blazing kiss that had them both breathing hard.

  It took everything he had to end it and pull away. Cael rolled over and stood before he forgot about Bran, the Reapers, or the war and made love to her again.

  With just a thought, his clothes were back in place. By the time he turned, Erith was also dressed, every one of her impossibly long strands of hair in place as if they hadn’t spent hours rolling around on the bed, his fists clenching her hair, or her head thrashing from side to side.

  “You do know that Neve won’t remain with the women,” he said, needing something to think about other than how his body still yearned for Erith.

  She gave a nod. “Neve is a full-fledged Reaper, just as Aisling is. She’ll remain with the others.”

  “Is that wise? Bran will go straight for her, if for no other reason than to get at Talin.”

  “Then you need to talk with Talin. You and Eoghan both know how Bran fights. You stood alongside him for many centuries. You know how he thinks, how he acts. We need to use that against him.”

  Cael grew hard just listening to her. He’d loved seeing her at his mercy while they made love, but there was something about her authoritative, imposing attitude that always turned him on.

  Erith glanced down. As soon as she saw his erection tenting his pants, she raised a brow and slid her gaze back to his face. She smiled, her lavender eyes full of desire and a primal hunger that made him groan with need.

  “We’re not done here,” he told her.

  She shook her head. “No, we certainly aren’t.”

  With that settled, they walked from the bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the tower. Neither said anything while making their way through the flowers to the realm’s doorway. It wasn’t until they reached it that Erith stopped and faced him.

  “I’m going to Eoghan and Thea,” she told him. “I want you to get River here first.”

  “Good idea.”

  Erith hesitated. “As far as I know, no human has gone through a Fae doorway while pregnant.”

  “You’re worried something might happen to the baby?”

  She shrugged. “It’s magic. Not only that, but River will be traveling through realms.”

  “I’ll talk to Kyran. And the rest?” he asked.

  “We each take one until they’re all here.”

  “Be careful,” Cael told her, hating that he wouldn’t be with her. Not because she couldn’t handle herself, but because he didn’t like be
ing apart from her.

  Erith held out her hand, and the black sword appeared. She slid it into the scabbard at her waist. “I won’t be without this again. It may not always show, but it’ll be with me. I know what I have to do.”

  Already, he could see the Death he knew transforming into someone even stronger and more extraordinary. “Then I’ll meet you back here.”

  With a smile, she stepped through the doorway. Cael paused. He looked over his shoulder at the tower shining a pale blue in the moonlight. Then he squared his shoulders and walked through the portal.

  As soon as he was on the other side, he teleported to Inchmickery. He appeared in the concrete compound and hurried to the room Kyran shared with River.

  “Cael?”

  He halted and turned around at the sound of Kyran’s voice. Cael frowned and walked to his friend. The Fae had lines of strain on his face, and his hair was sticking out in every direction as if he’d run his hands through it multiple times. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know where to take River,” Kyran said helplessly. “And she doesn’t want to go. Honestly, I don’t want to leave her, but I know I have a duty to the Reapers.”

  Cael put a hand on his friend’s arm. “I know exactly where to bring her.”

  “I didn’t think we were supposed to tell each other.”

  “Different plan. Where is River?”

  Kyran ran a hand through his shoulder-length black and silver hair. “Asleep, finally. I used a spell to get her to rest.”

  “I need her to stay asleep.”

  Kyran stepped in front of Cael when he made to move. “You’re my leader, and I will follow you anywhere, but you’re not touching my woman until you tell me what the bloody hell is going on.”

  Cael wasn’t offended by the statement. He knew exactly how Kyran felt because he’d dealt with something similar every day he’d been a Reaper. “Death has offered River and the others protection on her realm.”

  The obvious relief that swept through Kyran had the Reaper physically doubled over, his hands on his knees as he tucked his chin to his chest. After a few moments, he straightened. “I didn’t expect this.”

  “Neither did I. But,” he said, “this isn’t without risks. Death isn’t sure what could happen to the babe going through the doorway.”

  Kyran glanced at the closed door to his room. “If River remains here, she’s certain to die, along with our baby. If she goes to Death’s realm, then she and the child have a fighting chance.”

  “That’s true. Do you want to talk it over with her? She should get a say.”

  “I should, but I’ve got this nagging feeling there isn’t time. My goal is to get my wife and child as far away from danger as I can. Whatever happens, I’ll take responsibility for it,” Kyran said.

  “You’ll feel differently if River loses the baby.”

  Kyran licked his lips and shrugged. “If I don’t let you take them, then I lose them both. She’s going.”

  “Let’s get River moved then so I can get the others.”

  Kyran ran down the corridor to his room. He opened the door and rushed to the bed where he gathered his wife in his arms. He kissed her forehead before handing her to Cael.

  “Take her,” Kyran said. “I’ll tell Baylon, Fintan, and Daire.”

  Cael gave a nod and teleported to the isle. He paused before the doorway, Erith’s words coming back to him. He glanced down at River and set his jaw before making his way through the portal. Thea was waiting for him on the other side. The fact that River remained asleep was good.

  “Death already told me her concerns about River,” Thea said to Cael. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  Cael smiled at her. “Thanks.”

  They quickly got River settled in the tower, and then Cael returned to his Reapers. Death had already been there and had taken Ettie, while Eoghan grabbed Jordyn. Cael saw the happy looks on his Reapers’ faces—everyone but Fintan.

  Now Cael knew why Erith and Eoghan hadn’t taken Catriona. She was awake and standing with her arms crossed in her and Fintan’s bedroom, glaring daggers at her man.

  “Sweetheart, please,” Fintan pleaded.

  Cael stared at the infamous Dark assassin who was still feared by every Fae. Who would have thought Fintan, who’d once buried his emotions so deep that Cael didn’t think he’d ever feel again, would fall so hard for Cat?

  “Not happening,” Cat stated with an angry shake of her red head, her Irish brogue deepening with her fury. “I’m going to fight with you. That’s what we agreed. Remember?”

  Fintan squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. With a loud sigh, he dropped his arm to his side. “We don’t have time for this. I can’t fight if I’m worried about you, and it’s time we dealt with Bran once and for all.”

  “That’s right,” Cat said. She took a step toward Fintan, her arms dropping. “I’ve already fought him. I know what to do.”

  “He’ll come at you differently,” Cael said. He glanced at Fintan, waiting for his friend to give him the nod to proceed. When he did, Cael focused on Cat. “Bran is crafty, and as much as I hate to admit it, it’s his sneaky attitude that lets him win more times than not.”

  Cat’s green eyes filled with worry. “I’m the strongest Halfling there is. Let me help.”

  “He’ll go straight for you. It’s what I’d do. It’s what I know Bran is going to do,” Cael told her. “That’s why we’re getting all of you to safety. We need to go. Now.”

  No sooner had the words left his mouth, than there was an explosion behind him. The force sent Cael flying forward—straight into a concrete wall. His ears rang, and debris and dust swirled in the air as he caught sight of a wave of Dark Fae coming for them.

  Neve and Talin stepped out, throwing magic. Baylon and Daire joined in while Kyran snuck around the back of the Dark.

  Cael’s head jerked to where he’d last seen Cat. He found her lying on the floor with Fintan covering her with his body, shielding her from any further damage. Fintan then helped her to her feet, gave her a quick, hard kiss, whispered something, and shoved her at Cael.

  Cael wanted to join his Reapers, but he had to get Cat to safety first. The Dark had spotted her and were coming straight for her.

  As calmly as he could, Cael turned toward Cat and held out his hand. Once she took it, he teleported them to Death’s realm and into the arms of the other women. He didn’t look for Erith or Eoghan as he returned to his Reapers, he just jumped into battle with a bellow and a swing of his sword.

  “In the midst of chaos there is opportunity.”

  -Sun Tzu, The Art of War

  Chapter Sixteen

  Something was wrong. Erith knew it without having to be told. She rushed from the tower, running toward the doorway where she found Cat staring wide-eyed at the portal.

  Erith exchanged a look with Eoghan as he walked up. “What happened?” she demanded.

  Cat swung her green eyes to Erith. “Bran attacked the base.”

  Without so much as a word to anyone, Erith stepped through the doorway. Before she could teleport, Eoghan grabbed her arm. She whipped her head around to look at him. “Let go.”

  “You can’t fight him.”

  She raised a brow at her commander. “Excuse me?”

  Releasing her arm, he flattened his lips for a second. “If you go into that battle now, you’ve lost the element of surprise with Bran. He thinks you’re weakening. To show up and begin ripping through his men . . . one of them will go back to him and tell him all of it.”

  Erith looked away, hating that Eoghan was right, but she wanted to be by Cael’s side, to fight with him against their enemies. He shouldn’t have to stand alone.

  “It’s just as difficult for me,” Eoghan added, his jaw tight from his frustration. “I want nothing more than to call my Reapers and join the others.”

  “But we can’t,” Erith said with a nod.

  Eoghan looked out over the calm water surroun
ding the isle. “Bran was after the women. They can’t hurt Cael and the others. Not even Neve.”

  “Neither can the Reapers hurt Bran’s men.” And that’s what angered her most of all. It was needless fighting. The only good thing was that she didn’t have to worry about Cael being killed.

  She faced Eoghan. “I won’t fight or even show Bran’s army that I’m there, but I’m going to be with my Reapers.”

  “How do you know his army can’t see you? He shares his power with them like you do with us.”

  “Because I tested it,” she told Eoghan before teleporting away.

  Erith veiled herself the moment she arrived on Inchmickery. She gasped at the never-ending number of Dark that flooded the fort. Cael and his Reapers were spread out, each battling dozens of Fae.

  She searched for all seven of the Reapers. Talin and Kyran stood near Neve, making sure none of the Dark got close to her. They couldn’t kill her, but they could take her.

  Erith’s gaze returned to Cael. Every time she saw him in battle, he took her breath away. Every movement was fluid and timed perfectly. His transitions were sinuous, effortless. Natural.

  Turning, Cael sliced his sword through two Dark before blocking a bubble of magic. In the next instant, he used not just his weapon but also magic to pummel the Dark around him with merciless abandon.

  Every kill made Death ecstatic, but that didn’t last long as the Dark rose and returned to fighting. She still wasn’t sure why the Reapers couldn’t kill Bran’s army or vice versa, but it did allow the Reapers to blow off some steam.

  One by one, the Dark realized that the women weren’t there and that they couldn’t get close to Neve. It wasn’t long before the Fae retreated. The sounds of battle diminished until the only noise was the Reapers’ harsh breathing.

  Erith’s gaze was riveted on Cael, who was soaked in sweat and blood, violence in his silver eyes. Suddenly, he turned, his gaze locking with hers. Shocked, she dropped her veil. No one should be able to see her, not even Cael. But, somehow, he had.

  His torn shirt strained over his wide chest. All Erith wanted to do was rip his clothes off and have him inside her. She saw the raw hunger, the visceral need that had both of them in its grip flash in his eyes.