Hunter Betrayed, page 7
part #1 of Wild Hunt Series
“But—”
“Harley.” He captured her face between his hands. “Decide. Let me worship you or let me go.”
“Worship.” She linked her arms around his neck. “Please, touch me.”
His grin turned her heart over. With the hands she suspected had killed countless fairies, he lowered her to the floor.
His heated gaze focused on her breasts. “Gods, you are beautiful. You were made for loving.” A wavy lock of dark hair hung over his eyes but the blue peeking through the strands pierced her. She sucked in a rough breath. “Made for me.”
She wanted to argue. She was made from an unholy act for no other reason than because Dahm had coveted her mother or had simply wanted to rape a human. Calan’s low growl stopped the thought from gaining more ground. He slid a hand between her thighs and cupped her mound. The possessive way he touched her eased the tension she hadn’t realized had seized her muscles.
“Focus on me. Only me.”
She dipped her chin in acknowledgement and he pushed two fingers into her dripping center. A shocked cry escaped her lips. The rough thrust took her by surprise. He didn’t tease her, didn’t slowly stoke the embers of desire, didn’t worship her. Not in the sweet, making love sense, anyway. He worked her body with hard, rapid thrusts of his fingers. The curl and twist at the end of each drive matched what she’d done not long ago. He hit her G-spot easily and adjusted his prodding fingers to zero in on the elusive trigger point.
Her body trembled. The orgasm he built tightened her core and strung her limbs taut. He didn’t send her over the edge, though. His steady stroking made it grow. Her rough breaths shortened. She gasped, tried to drag in air but couldn’t. The race to experience heaven on earth became her world along with the man whose hot and hungry eyes watched her with utter satisfaction.
“You close?”
Going by the smirk on his full lips, he knew the answer but the teasing note to his voice told her more about her new lover than anything else could. He wouldn’t let her be in charge as she’d been with other men, not unless he wanted to give her the power. He would command her pleasure, direct her and love every minute of it.
She nodded. More arousal flowed to coat his hand. The wet smack of his palm against her sex reached her ears. His pleased smile grew.
“Love that sound,” he groaned.
He pumped faster into her. Her breathy moans added to wet, sucking noises. They would’ve embarrassed her, but the carnal stamp of approval on his face stopped it. She lifted her bottom and moved with him.
“I can’t wait to feel your greedy muscles massaging my dick.” He leaned closer, pushing his fingers deeper into her core. “You’re going to milk my cock dry, Harley.” He brushed his lips to her cheek. “My seed is yours and you are going to take every last drop. Understand?”
She whimpered.
He growled. “Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes.”
He grunted in response and kissed her hard, still working her sex with quick pumps. The curl and thrust of his fingers turned into a grinding press of his palm to her clit. He captured her nipple with his other hand. A tug on the sensitive tip and she careened over the edge. Pleasure, pain, ecstasy—it all rolled into the intense waves whipping through her body. She opened her mouth on a soundless scream.
The motion of his hand kept the orgasm going. She thrashed against the intensity of the release, but he forced her to ride the edge for longer than she thought possible. Finally, he yanked his fingers free and jerked her limp body into his arms. He kissed her as if this were their first and last kiss. She returned it, giving him everything she had, more than she’d ever given another. It lasted forever, yet not long enough. Between one stroke of his tongue and the next, his image faded.
Her arms dropped to her sides. She knelt on trembling legs and glanced around. She was alone. Again.
She cradled her hand with its incomplete symbol. “I think this is my hell. Being alone when all I want to do is curl up next to the man sworn to hunt down and destroy the brothers and sisters I never knew I had.”
Chapter Seven
Calan panted through the lust and pain tightening his body. Tingles that had nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with the out-of-body experience he’d just had burned every particle of his being. White-hot pokers danced over him, leaving him in nearly the same agony Rhys experienced, day in and day out. The only thing that made his suffering bearable was the memory of his soon-to-be mate lost to desire.
Was it worth it?
Rhys’ agony-laced voiced echoed in Calan’s head. Guilt welled. In order to accomplish the feat he hadn’t been sure was possible, he’d drawn strength from his brother the same way Calan had over the lifetime they’d been together.
“Yes,” he rasped. He switched to the more intimate form of communication he shared with his siblings. By the gods, yes. I never knew how good it’d be. I felt her pleasure, Rhys. It was different from what we feel but no less satisfying. I can’t wait to join our bodies.
Don’t be a fool, Calan. The female is Dahm’s child. Whether she’s fought the darkness or not matters little. The same chaotic force that twisted one of the greatest members of the Seelie Court has worked its way through Harley from the moment she took her first breath.
Not once has she—
Rhys growled. Yet. You might’ve stopped the taint’s spread but you cannot heal the damage it has already done. She is not pure.
Her white light—
An anguished roar resounded between Calan’s ears. He didn’t flinch but lowered his gaze on the sight of his brother’s lengthening jaw and reddened eyes.
You shared with me the knowledge you gained of her modern world and of the evidence stamped on her body. I saw the same thing you did, but you refuse to acknowledge it. You’re letting your damn dick make your decisions for you.
Calan raised his gaze to meet Rhys’ wavering image. Yes, she’s experienced the high the pure chaos can give and turned her back on it. For me, Rhys. How can I not look upon her with respect?
Sharing your body with her is not a permanent fix. Nothing you do will eliminate the taint she already holds. It will always be a part of her, tempting her.
Calan cracked his jaw. He pushed the worry aside. I will act as her buffer, shielding her from the lure of its false power.
I know you will try, but she can still choose to shun your protection and embrace her heritage. If you bind your life force to hers, she’ll take you down with her. Rhys’ weary sigh cut worse than his rage had. By the gods, Calan, I don’t want to turn the Hunt upon you. Do not finish it. Use her to gain your release then take back what you shared before it’s too late.
Calan contemplated his brother’s words. Rhys, for all his faults, had always been the voice of reason, at least in everyone else’s lives if not his own. He also knew what a leap Calan’s choice had been for him. For a god, or the child of one, to mate was not a decision to be made in the spur of the moment. He basically had, though. From the moment he first saw her, he’d known she was special. Nine years ago, she’d been pure. Had he bonded to her then, he could’ve saved her in truth, but she hadn’t returned to him. She’d broken her promise and betrayed his trust.
No, that wasn’t quite the truth. She’d returned to him. Only she’d come back damaged. He’d seen the pockets of decay on her aura. He could no longer promise her she’d never turn into a monster like her father. He could only promise her hope that with his support she’d survive. He waited for regret to come, or at least doubt. Neither emotion surged within him. All he experienced was the all-consuming lust that threatened to own him as completely as the rage of the Hunt could.
Right or wrong, he’d made his choice, exactly as he’d told Harley.
He was hers from now until the end of time.
Once she completes the bond, it’ll be easier to ensure she remains honorable. I will fight for her. I won’t lose her, Rhys. She is my choice. Together, we will endure and thrive.
And if she doesn’t complete her half of the binding?
Well…then he’d discover the true meaning of hell.
* * * * *
Harley rolled her eyes at the antics of the drunk and horny guys prowling around the bar. A few of Ian’s childhood friends knew her from when she’d been younger, but most had never met or even seen a picture of his elusive sister. She’d almost wished he would’ve passed one around before the party and told them she was off-limits. He hadn’t because he wanted her to find a little happiness, even if it was in the form of a fuck buddy she could hook up with whenever she came around.
Ian meant well. He’d just never accepted the facts of her life. Having a regular go-to only put that unfortunate guy in harm’s way. She could get away with random encounters as long as she kept her liaisons to daylight hours with preselected guys and ran as soon as the orgasm faded. Most didn’t mind. Some fell in instant lust, however. Those encounters hurt the most. She didn’t enjoy breaking anyone’s heart.
The stripper gyrating over her brother’s lap had most of the guy’s attention except for the one walking toward her. Trevor, Ian’s business partner and the only other person who knew about her, leaned a hip against the table in front of her. The heated perusal from his dark-brown eyes held all the lust a good one-night stand could offer. It did nothing for her. Actually, none of the advances she’d had to rebuff all night had any effect.
She wasn’t indifferent to sex. She loved it, but Calan had succeeded in killing her interest in any other man. For the moment, she didn’t want to think about the implications of that truth.
“Ian’s making a mistake.”
She met Trevor’s eyes, the topic not one she’d expected. “It’s not my place to say anything.”
He glanced over his shoulder, shook his head and faced her. “I saw Cynthia with another man last night.”
She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of what he implied. Instead, she raised a brow. “And?”
Trevor took another step. He towered over her. Not as muscular as Calan or even Ian, Trevor had a swimmer’s build—tall, sleek and powerful. She craned her head to see his face. Anger tightened his features.
“The so-called virginal girl who’s stopped Ian from doing more than kiss her had her hands all over this guy while his were under her skirt pumping into her pussy.”
She stifled a gasp. “Did you tell Ian?”
Trevor propped his hand next to her head and leaned close enough to kiss her. He didn’t. He held her in an intense, enraged gaze. “Yeah, I fucking told him. He told me to stop lying, that I was jealous.”
“Are you?”
He flashed a lopsided smile that chilled his eyes instead of warming them. “I can get any woman I want.” He pressed the palm of his other hand on the opposite side of her face. “Including you, Harley. Why would I be jealous of a seemingly sweet-natured, kindergarten teacher?”
He had a point, at least about not having a reason to be jealous. As for his claim to be able to seduce her? He didn’t have a chance in hell, not anymore.
“Has she ever done anything like this before?”
He pushed away, a frown on his face. “No, that’s the thing. She is a good girl, but now I’m rethinking my opinion of her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think she’s into playing games. Not that there’s a damn thing wrong with that as long as Ian’s the star of her fantasies, but…” He rubbed his stubble-covered chin. “But, she was calling this guy Ian’s name.”
Her muscles tensed. “What did he look like?”
“He was a big guy, muscular like Ian, but he had these freaky black eyes.”
Please, no. She fisted his shirt and stood on her tiptoes. “What was he wearing?” His brows furrowed. She shook him. “Dammit, Trevor. Was he wearing a baseball cap?”
He inclined his head once, a wary expression tightening his face. “Yeah, a black one with red slashes on it.”
She released him and covered her mouth. “Oh god. Oh god.”
“What’s wrong?”
She ran across the room, weaving between the guys and the few exotic dancers dressed in various costumes. She grabbed Ian’s hand and tugged. “I need to talk to you. Now.”
Ian turned his attention to her. The hungry look he’d held for the stripper faded as concern widened his eyes. He lifted the woman from his lap and stood. “What happened?”
Harley led him across the room. The heavy weight of the other men’s gazes followed them. At the far corner, she covered his hand with her trembling one. “Have you talked to Cynthia today?”
“No, why?”
Harley’s pulse raced. “You need to call her. Right now. Make sure she’s okay.”
Although that’d be a miracle. If Raul had gotten to her, they’d be having her funeral instead of a wedding. The black hat was his signature accessory. He’d worn an identical cap—sometimes frayed, sometimes brand-spanking new—since she’d first seen him, right before he’d ripped her mother’s throat out.
“She’s fine, Harley. I talked to her sister less than an hour ago. Cynthia was giggling in the background as she opened presents.”
Harley stared at him wide-eyed. “You’re sure?”
Ian brushed a lock of hair from her face. “I’m sure. Why are you worried?”
“I talked to Trevor and—”
Ian sneered. “Don’t listen to him. He’s lying.”
“But the guy wore the same baseball hat Raul does.”
“If there even was a guy.” Ian shifted on his feet. “Look, Trevor has been trying to get me to change my mind about marrying Cynthia. He thinks I’m making a mistake. He swore he overheard her talking to some of her friends about me, saying crazy shit like she’s only marrying me for my money and never loved me and that…” He glanced away and cleared his throat. “That she really thinks I’m gay.”
She stepped back. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s all a bunch of lies. Cynthia loves me. She told me so.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Trevor caught her gaze. He gave a small shake of his head and turned away. She faced Ian. “I don’t know. What if—”
“No, Sis. Listen to me. Raul wouldn’t know about the wedding. We’ve kept it quiet and the cell phones we’ve used can’t be traced. I won’t take any chances with your life or Cynthia’s.”
Everything he said was one hundred percent accurate. Ian knew how to protect his loved ones and she’d been running for a decade. It usually took months for Raul to catch up to her. The chances he had found her so quickly or guessed at her destination when she’d never returned home before were slim to none. So why was her gut churning?
He bent closer. “I’ll call her and talk to her, make sure she didn’t think she was kissing me. Okay?”
She nodded.
Ian squeezed her hand. “We’ve been living in the shadow of darkness for years. I told you I won’t live in a bubble. We can’t stop the evil in this world. All we can do is hope we don’t unintentionally invite it into our homes.”
She’d heard his speech too many times and still didn’t believe a word of it. “I’m not going to the wedding. I’m leaving tonight.” Right after I unlock Calan from his prison.
“What?” He glared at her. “You promised. I need you there.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Ian narrowed his eyes. “You’re hiding something from me. What is it?”
She peered around his shoulders. Nobody hovered close by. Assured they had a mediocre amount of privacy, she faced him. “My phantom man is real. He’s not a fairy, but a rider of the Wild Hunt who’s been imprisoned for centuries.”
“What?”
She rushed through the rest of the facts she’d learned, then stared at her only confidant and waited for what he’d say.
“You believe him.”
A statement, not a question.
She laid a hand over her heart. “He healed me, Ian. He left a piece of himself inside me and calmed the taint.”
“How is it possible?” The hope in Ian’s voice stirred the same in her.
“I don’t know.” She took his hands and held on tightly, the emotions swirling inside her bringing tears to her eyes. “But, it’s real. The burn, the edginess, the temptation are gone. I feel almost pure.”
Ian wrapped her in his arms and laid his head over hers the way he had since they were little. “God, Sis, I’m so happy for you.”
The tears choking his voice weren’t a sign of the strong leader he projected to the world, but he’d never hidden his true feelings from her. He’d been the only one on her side or at least the only one who’d ever showed her affection and attention.
Love rushed up along with more tears. She buried her face in his shirt. “If he’ll let me, I’m going to help him hunt down Dahm. When the bastard is dead, I’ll find a way to save my brothers and sisters.”
“Do you think there are many other kids like you?”
She thought back to the first time the dark taint had stretched within her. At nine, she hadn’t really understood what it had meant. She’d only known something was happening to her. Why hadn’t her mom told her? She pushed away the question and the sadness it brought. Under impossible circumstances, she’d survived. In the end, that was all that mattered.
“Still alive after the darkness flared for the first time?” She shook her head. “I doubt it, but I’m sure there are plenty of little kids out there who are ticking time bombs.” She leaned back and let him see her determination. “I’m going to save them, Ian.”
She hoped the certainty she pushed into the vow gave it power. Dear god, she didn’t want any other child to suffer the way she had or die at the hands of Dahm’s monstrosities. Or Calan for that matter.
Ian nodded as if it were a done deal. “I’ll help you.”
She pressed her palm to his cheek. “You know I can’t allow you to do that. The commitment you’re making to Cynthia overrides the one you feel for me. I’m no longer your problem.”
