Dark Alpha's Caress Read online

  “Come,” her father beckoned.

  Sorcha walked to him and took the hand he offered. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know where to even begin. So many questions rattled through her head, but she knew there wasn’t time for any of them.

  The breath he drew in was ragged. “I don’t care how much Fae blood or Druid blood or mortal blood is in your veins. You’re my daughter, and you’re the only thing I’m going to miss when I go. At least I’ll get to be with your mother once more. Now, I want you to go somewhere safe until this is over. Then my brother will find you.”

  She wanted to argue, but she didn’t have the heart. Sorcha leaned in and wrapped her arms around her father. He was quick to return the embrace, holding her tightly for a brief moment. When she pulled away, there were tears in his eyes, as well. It wasn’t fair that he was being taken from her. It made hate fill her heart, but she didn’t want that either. She wanted only to feel the love they had shared briefly.

  As she walked from the room with Aisling by her side, all she could think about was the years she hadn’t cared if she had a father or not. Now, she knew that she had missed out on some truly amazing moments with a good man. None of it was fair. Not what had happened to keep him and her mother apart, not her mother’s and sister’s deaths, not her father’s poisoning, and not the fact that she had finally found the other side of her family, only to lose her da that same day.

  “It would be easy to give in to the anger,” Aisling said as they walked down the last flight of stairs to the main floor.

  Sorcha nodded. “I think I’m too filled with grief right now.”

  “It’ll hit,” the Dark warned. “Don’t let it consume you. Nothing good comes from it.”

  She looked at the Fae. “You sound as if you speak from experience.”

  “Because I do,” Aisling said.

  Sorcha opened the door, and the two of them stepped over the threshold. As soon as they did, an orb of magic landed near Sorcha’s feet.

  Chapter Twenty

  Years of being a Queen’s Guard as well as a Reaper had taught Cathal when to recognize the tension in the air that spelled impending battle. And he wasn’t the only one. The Fae standing guard around the estate were on high alert.

  The problem was, Cathal couldn’t find anything that told him when or where the attack would happen. Yet his gut said it would. He kept his veil up and walked the property from one end to the other. Guards were strategically placed around the estate, but the majority of them were around the house.

  Cathal looked at the manor, wondering where in the building Sorcha was. He didn’t need to worry about the Halfling being protected there because Aisling would have that covered. With a sigh, he turned so the house was at his back. His gaze kept scanning the horizon. Something prickled the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

  He was making another round of the perimeter of the manor when he glanced at one of the guards. Something about him didn’t sit right with Cathal, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. He got close to the guard and walked around the Fae, trying to figure out what it was that had caught his attention.

  Then it hit him. He’d seen this Fae before—at Sorcha’s cottage.

  Cathal teleported into the manor. The sound of a door caught his attention. He spun around in time to see Sorcha and Aisling walking out. Time slowed to a crawl when the ball of magic crashed between the women. Without a thought for his own safety, Cathal jumped to them and grabbed hold of Sorcha to pull her back into the building.

  He lowered his veil and examined her. “Are you hurt? Did any of it hit you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, though her voice shook.

  Cathal lifted his head to Aisling to see that her eyes were focused outside as she used the door for cover. “Who is it?”

  “Anyone looking to take Sorcha’s life,” Aisling said. She then looked at Cathal. “Eamon is dying from poison. He’s made it so Sorcha is listed as his heir. When he dies, she’ll be safe.”

  Cathal glanced down at Sorcha, who had her arms wrapped around him. “Until then, she’s fair game, I suppose.”

  “Unfortunately,” Sorcha said with a shrug.

  He wasn’t going to stand there and wait for the bastards to find Sorcha. “I’m going out there.”

  “The hell you are,” Sorcha said.

  Cathal smiled as he looked down at her. “I’ll be veiled. They’ll never see me coming.”

  “Us,” Aisling corrected. “Don’t leave me out of some ass-kicking.”

  He nodded to her before returning his gaze to Sorcha. “Remain here. They’ll never get to the house.”

  “I don’t like this,” Sorcha said.

  Cathal pulled her against him and kissed her. “This is what Aisling and I do. You don’t need to worry about us.”

  “That’s right,” Aisling said as she cracked her knuckles. “Come on, big guy. You can kiss her later. It’s time for battle.”

  Cathal took one last look at Sorcha and pulled back from her arms before he and Aisling veiled themselves and rushed out the door. They made quick work of the men attacking the estate. If the guards realized what was going on, they gave no indication of it.

  He kept looking for the guard who had been at Sorcha’s. Because if there was one of them in disguise, there would be others. Cathal found him easily enough and quickly dispatched him before he could kill another fellow guard. Some people were made for war. Cathal hadn’t realized how good he was at it until he became a Reaper. It wasn’t that he enjoyed taking someone’s life. It was quite the opposite, actually.

  But there was something about fighting on the side of good to set the balance right again that made everything clear. Easy, even. He was working his way through a line of attackers when he felt a stinging pain in his side. Cathal glanced down to find blood trickling from a wound.

  The injury was small. Since no one could see him, it was likely just a lucky shot from somewhere. He didn’t think anything about it as he continued his annihilation. It wasn’t long before he fell to one knee, however. This time when he looked down, the wound was center mass on his thigh. That wasn’t a chance shot. It had been taken on purpose.

  As a Reaper, he healed quicker than a Fae, but it wouldn’t be fast enough. Cathal climbed to his feet, gritting his teeth from the pain. Then he looked around, trying to figure out who was aiming at him—and how.

  Seconds ticked by with nothing. He stood still, a perfect target for someone trying to aim for him. Unless…he narrowed his gaze as he studied every face. Still, he found nothing, but he had a theory. He moved to an attacker near him and punched the man in the face, knocking him down.

  Immediately, an orb came flying right at the spot where Cathal stood. He moved to the side, letting it pass. Someone had figured out that he was veiled, and they were waiting to see where someone went down seemingly on their own, allowing them to take their shot. It was smart. Almost too clever.

  And if they could do that to him, they could do it to Aisling. He hurriedly scanned the area for her. As soon as he spotted her, he jumped to her location and grabbed her, swinging her away right as a ball of magic came at her.

  “What the actual fek?” Aisling asked as she looked at the orb.

  Cathal met her red eyes. “Someone figured out what we’re doing.”

  “But…how?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Perhaps we can ask that after we find the arsehole.”

  “It’ll make keeping the attackers back more difficult.”

  “It’s a challenge I’m up for,” he said with a smile.

  Her lips lifted in a grin. “Let’s get to it, then.”

  It was all Sorcha could do to remain in the house. She debated whether to go back up to her father’s room, but decided to respect his wishes. No doubt her uncle was with him, which explained why no one had come to check on her.

  She hated not being able to see Cathal and make sure he was all right. Then again,
the fact that he could remain veiled gave him an advantage. She wouldn’t like it if he were fighting against her, but she certainly enjoyed it when he was on her side. There were so many questions she wanted answers to regarding Cathal. Her father’s reaction to hearing that he’d died but was alive kept running through her head.

  It had sounded odd when Cathal had told her that before, but then again, she knew very little about the Fae. For all she knew, there was a magical way they could be killed and come back. It wasn’t as if the Skye Druids had classes on the Fae. Everyone knew the basics, and that was it.

  She felt safe with Cathal and Aisling. Not once had she thought that she was in danger or that they meant her harm. Then there was the fact that she had fallen for Cathal. Hard. She used to laugh off love at first sight, right up until she experienced it herself. It existed, and she was proof of that.

  Twisting her hands nervously, Sorcha thought she spotted where Aisling or Cathal might be. A couple of the attackers looked as if they’d tripped over the air and went down hard, not moving again. There was a smile on her face as she silently cheered Cathal and Aisling on. And, if she were honest, she wished she could be out there helping them.

  But she hadn’t done magic in ten years, and she couldn’t be veiled. Those things kept her sidelined. Though, the truth was that she had no clue what to do in such a battle. Being a Halfling didn’t automatically instill such knowledge in her. Fighting was learned, and she didn’t have any skills.

  Her thoughts skidded to a halt when she saw an orb of magic land where she believed either Cathal or Aisling might be. Two more balls of magic alit in quick succession, landing near the first. It was almost as if the first strike had painted a target for the others, because that’s where the orbs began to condense.

  A knot of foreboding settled in her stomach. All this time, she believed that Cathal and Aisling were nearly invincible because they could stay veiled. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Thinking he could remain invisible and safe had allowed her to imagine that Cathal could always be hers. After all, he had been killed and was still walking around now. To her mind, it meant he couldn’t die. She was coming to understand that she’d had a false sense of security regarding Cathal.

  And the idea that she might lose him sent her spiraling into an abyss of fear and panic.

  Cathal tried to get to his feet and move out of the way of the incoming orbs of magic, but his body wouldn’t listen to him. He finally gave up trying to stand and just rolled out of the way. It was a good thing, too, because several more balls of magic landed where he had been. He didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened had he still been there.

  He was a Reaper with some of Death’s magic in him that heightened his senses and increased his power, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be killed. The fact that most Fae didn’t even realize the Reapers were real kept them from being singled out or hunted. Yet something was going on now, and he didn’t like it at all.

  A part of him wanted to call for the other Reapers for help, but if someone at this battle knew what he and Aisling were, then he would only succeed in bringing his brethren into a slaughter. It was better if the others didn’t know.

  He managed to get on his hands and knees. Fae lay dead all around him. More and more of the guards at the manor were being killed now that he and Aisling had been sidelined. Cathal looked up and searched for Aisling to find her leaning against the building, wounded. He couldn’t tell how badly she was hurt, but the fact that she had taken refuge told him she was in pain.

  His gaze lifted to the upper floors of the manor. He didn’t want Sorcha’s father to die, but once his life was over, then those after her would cease in their attacks. The use of poison on a Fae wasn’t very common. In fact, it was rare. Mostly because poison of any kind had a unique and horrifying effect on the Fae. They could last for days in pain as their bodies desperately tried to heal the toxin until the body finally gave up. He’d never seen a Fae who had been poisoned, but he’d heard about it. It took someone truly evil to kill a Fae in such a way.

  “Cathal!”

  The sound of his name on Aisling’s lips brought his head up. Her expression told him that he had to get moving. He glanced over his shoulder to find a group of five Fae advancing on his location. Two of them wore the navy uniform of the manor guards, while the others were in regular clothes. The Fae were a mixture of Light and Dark, both male and female. Something about the way they carried themselves said they knew they were powerful and dared anyone to challenge them. He’d seen something similar not so long ago.

  That’s when he realized who they were. These were the Fae trying to become something similar to the Others. And they had somehow managed to immobilize both him and Aisling.

  Cathal didn’t know if they were here for him and Aisling or for Sorcha. Frankly, he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to allow any of them to be taken. Especially Sorcha. She didn’t deserve such a fate after everything that had happened to her family.

  Gathering as much strength as he could, Cathal got to his feet and faced the group of Fae. The few remaining manor guards were still fighting others and had no idea what was going on. If one of them had to die, it would be him. Aisling was closer to Sorcha and could get her out.

  He didn’t look to the manor, even though he wanted one last look at his Halfling. She had been a bright light in his life, one he had briefly basked in. If she had brought him such joy in just a few days, he could only imagine how things would’ve been had they had decades together.

  But that wasn’t to be. He’d done unspeakable wrongs, and while Death had given him a second chance, in the end, he had to pay the price for the lives he’d taken. There must always be a balance, and his time had come.

  With the image of Sorcha smiling up at him after they’d made love in his mind, he dropped his veil. The leader of the group—the same Fae who had tried to convince Sorcha that he was her father—smiled as he formed an orb of magic.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “No!” Sorcha shouted when she saw Cathal lower his veil.

  No one heard her because of the sounds of battle. Her stomach dropped to her feet when she spotted the group of five Fae headed straight for Cathal. She scanned the area, hoping to see Aisling or at least some sign of her. But there was nothing.

  Sorcha knew she didn’t stand a chance against the Fae. She also knew that Cathal and Aisling had done everything to keep her protected. Yet she couldn’t stand there and watch either of them die. For all she knew, Aisling might already be dead.

  The attackers’ numbers were dwindling, but then again, so were the manor guards’. She wasn’t sure who would win. All of this was happening because of her. Fae were dying—because of her. She wouldn’t allow Cathal’s life to be taken.

  She took a deep breath and moved from her hiding spot to the doorway. Then she walked out of the house.

  “Sorcha!”

  She looked to the side where she’d heard Aisling’s voice. The Dark must be veiled, not that she blamed Aisling at all. “It’s fine.”

  “Get back in the house.”

  Sorcha ignored the disembodied voice and kept walking. She hoped to catch everyone’s attention to give Cathal and Aisling time to get away. But that’s not what happened. The Fae headed toward Cathal and didn’t take their eyes off him. She walked faster, heading straight for the Dark. Surely, someone would notice her.

  When the clear leader of the group formed an orb of magic between his hands, Sorcha began running. If only she could teleport, but she didn’t have that ability. She watched with a mixture of distress and terror as all five Fae shot balls of power at Cathal.

  Move out of the way! She screamed in her mind. But Cathal remained where he was.

  Right before the magic slammed into him, he was jerked out of the way. Sorcha knew Aisling had intervened. She’d have to thank the Dark female later. Right now, she was more concerned with making sure Cathal got away before he was killed.

  To her su
rprise, the five Fae began hurling orb after orb at and around Cathal. Sorcha realized they were trying to get whoever had helped him. Despite Aisling’s attempt, Sorcha could tell that the female was being pummeled with magic and unable to get away. So was Cathal. It was the last straw for her.

  Sorcha halted about ten meters from the group, who were so focused on Cathal and Aisling that they had no idea there was someone about to unleash ten years of anger on them. She planted her feet and let her magic swamp her.

  For the first time, she felt a difference in her power. She could actually discern what was Fae and what was Druid. And when they mixed, it was a heady, intoxicating feeling that made her lightheaded. The more she accepted the magic, the stronger it became until her entire body hummed with it.

  It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Whether it was because it had been a decade since she’d called to it, or because she now knew about her Fae blood, there was something distinctly different about the magic now. And she liked it. A lot.

  The force of the power was so intense that it felt as if she were doing everything she could to keep her feet on the ground. She wanted to control the magic, but she was running out of time. Cathal was covered in blood and burns from the orbs that kept slamming into his body. He fought to get up, and she saw his lips moving. No doubt, he urged Aisling to do the same.

  The two most powerful Fae she knew had been brought low. Because of her. That made her sick to her stomach. Her gaze swung to the five Fae who stood with smiles on their faces as they rained their deadly magic down on her friends.

  A calm descended over Sorcha, pushing aside her wrath and trepidation. It was almost as if she’d detached from herself. Like she was staring at the scene, looking at herself in the third person. She didn’t question any of it as she raised her hands before her. With a battle cry that would make any Skye Druid proud, she threw her magic at the five Fae.