The Last Warrior: Shifters Unbound Book 13

by Ashley Jennifer

  “Poor kid.” Jaycee sent a sympathetic glance out the open doorway to the hall. “I didn’t exactly have the best childhood, but then I found Kendrick and Dimitri, who did everything they could to take care of me. Rhianne’s caught between two formidable parents, both with their own agendas, which can’t be easy. I admire the hell out of her for being so damned calm.”

  “Me too,” Ben trailed off and didn’t continue the thought. He did more than admire her. He liked her, delighted in her, and craved her. Oh yeah. Straight-up lust.

  Ben couldn’t admit this to his friends, though he realized they already knew. Jaycee was growing protective of Rhianne, and if she decided Rhianne could do much better than Ben, she’d defend Rhianne with teeth and claws.

  Ben wasn’t Shifter. As much as Shifters welcomed him, drank with him, and trusted him, he still wasn’t one of them. The Shifters who didn’t know him took one whiff of his Fae-like scent and barely stopped themselves from trying to kill him.

  Shifters might decide Rhianne’s ability made her one of them, and try to absorb her into them. Dylan would be very interested, in any case.

  Ben hauled himself off the bench. “I’ll check on her.”

  Jaycee and Dimitri said nothing as Ben left the kitchen, but he felt their gazes on his back.

  In the dim shadows of the bedroom, Ben saw that Rhianne had curled on her side, the thin sheet rising and falling with her breath. She hadn’t woken when Ben laid her down, just whimpered and frowned, quieting only when he’d tucked a sheet and blanket over her and turned off the light.

  The blanket was now crumpled at the bottom of the bed, and Rhianne shivered. Ben quietly closed the door behind him, crossed to her, and drew the blanket around her body once more.

  He started to tiptoe away, when she cried out, a heartbreaking sound of loneliness and fear. He’d heard the same kind of noise from his own throat, for the same reasons.

  Ben turned back to the bed. Rhianne began to thrash, caught in some dream. She bunched the blanket in her hand and thrust it away, as though hot, yet she trembled.

  “Shh.” Ben smoothed her hair, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

  Rhianne quieted somewhat but cried out again when he withdrew. Ben shook her gently, trying to pull her from the nightmare.

  She swam toward wakefulness, blinked without fully coming awake, and dove right back into sleep. When Ben stepped away again, however, the shivering returned and Rhianne whimpered softly.

  Ben let out a long breath. He gazed out the window at the darkening grounds, the moon setting behind trees. The chandelier in the bedroom swayed, crystals tinkling.

  “Yeah, I know what you think,” Ben whispered to it.

  He seated himself on a nearby chair and slipped off his boots, then his jeans and shirt. In his underwear, he climbed into the big double bed, reaching for the blanket.

  Rhianne snuggled into him as he spooned up to her, but she didn’t wake. Ben covered them both with the blanket, draping his arm around her, her fragrant hair under his nose.

  Rhianne never woke. She let out a long sigh, then her shivering ceased, and she slid into quiet slumber.

  * * *

  Sunlight touched Rhianne’s eyes. She slowly woke, feeling wonderfully rested, the strange and troubling dreams of the night fading into a vague memory.

  She was too warm. Someone had draped a blanket over her, but the most radiant source of heat lay behind her. It also snored.

  Rhianne swiftly rolled over. She became aware of two things—she wore nothing under the covers, and Ben lay next to her, his arm over his eyes, a quiet snore drifting from him.

  Rhianne’s heart hammered. Her first instinct was to leap up, wrap the blanket around her bare body, and flee.

  Instead, she settled onto her elbow and gazed at Ben. His face, relaxed in sleep, bore none of the lines of tension he wore during the day. His black hair, cut short, lay in silken strands against his head, tempting her to touch them.

  His smooth lips beckoned her as she remembered how tender they’d been against hers. Yet, she’d felt the strength in him, as though he tamed himself for her. The thought made her heart race yet again.

  What was he doing in here? Rhianne was pretty sure their kisses hadn’t gone further, but the aftermath of the battle with the snakes was a blur. Had she and Ben succumbed to post-fight euphoria and taken it to the bedroom?

  If so, why couldn’t she remember? Making love with Ben was something she’d never want to forget.

  No—she recalled now. They’d returned to the kitchen and had beer and wine with Jaycee and Dimitri, thanking the Goddess they were still alive. And then …

  Nothing. Rhianne assumed she’d fallen asleep in her weariness, and Ben had carried her to bed. Taken off her clothes, and his, and then he’d climbed in beside her.

  Rhianne gingerly lifted the blanket and peered beneath it at Ben’s body. She wasn’t certain she was relieved or disappointed when she saw boxer briefs hugging his hips.

  Still, it wasn’t a bad view. The briefs were tight, showing her exactly how he was shaped when relaxed. Her imagination inserted what he’d look like when not relaxed, and sudden warmth flooded her.

  Dangerous. She lay here bare-skinned, desire flushing her. Her nipples tingled, and the heat between her legs made her quiver. If Ben woke, he’d find her ready and wanting him.

  Would he be aghast? Or would he touch her, pull her down to him, rid himself of the briefs, and take her fully?

  Rhianne gulped. She should return to her original plan of grabbing the blanket and running.

  But what if she encountered Dimitri or Jaycee in the hall? She’d be mortified. Worse, Jaycee might mention to Rhianne’s mother that she’d run out of a bedroom, clad only in a blanket, where Ben lay in her bed.

  Best to stay put. When Ben woke, they could discuss what to do.

  Discuss. As though they were in a banquet room conducting a formal meeting.

  Rhianne’s need clenched her. There was something about Ben that made her forget her loneliness and throw caution to the wind. Maybe it was his laughter, the low rumbling that told her everything would be all right. Or the sparkle in his eyes when he said something deliberately ridiculous. Or the pain she read in him that told her he was as desolate as she was.

  The two of them were alone, the house silent, the sun shining, no evil present. Rhianne let good sense desert her.

  She leaned down and softly kissed his lips.

  Ben jerked. His arm came down, his eyes opening in an instant. Rhianne made herself remain beside him, determined not to flee.

  Ben stared in surprise when he saw her, and for a moment Rhianne thought he’d be the one snatching up the blanket and racing out the door.

  Then desire flared in his eyes, and Ben abruptly slid his arms around her, pulling her over on top of him.

  Rhianne fit nicely on him, the shape in the briefs, no longer relaxed, at the join of her legs.

  He cupped her neck, hand under her hair, as he’d done in the park in New Orleans, blunt fingers caressing, and kissed her.

  Rhianne’s untamed hair flowed over them both. She couldn’t be bothered brushing it aside as she kissed Ben’s mouth. He parted his lips, drawing her in, tasting her as he had last night in the garden. He’d been gentle then. Now she felt the force of him, no longer subdued.

  Her body thrummed with excitement. Ben’s strength was evident in the way he held her, the way his mouth possessed hers. One hand stroked down her back, found her bare hips, and slid between her thighs to sink a finger into her liquid heat.

  Rhianne gasped, breaking the kiss. Ben gazed up at her, loosening his hold, giving her the chance to spring up and run.

  Rhianne moved the slightest bit on his finger and lowered herself to kiss him again. Ben’s smile warmed everything inside her before she covered his mouth with hers.

  Ben’s fingers performed magic, and Rhianne’s thoughts dissolved into pleasure and need. It had been a very long time since she’d been
intimate with a man, a long time since she’d trusted any enough to do so. She’d at first been too innocent to understand that her Tuil Erdannan lovers simply wanted to get close to the daughter of Lady Aisling and Lord Ivor—either to gain power for themselves or to have a hold over the two—and had closed herself off once she’d realized this.

  Why did she not feel worried with Ben? Ben was dangerous, his threat greater because he presented himself as affable and friendly.

  She saw nothing of his friendliness now. Ben kissed her with command, holding her hard while he pleasured her with his fingers, faster and faster. Rhianne writhed, needing his touch, this fire.

  He sped his strokes, and Rhianne clenched around him, wanting the depth, the madness. She arched, wishing it was his cock inside her, but he was very skilled, this pleasure wonderful.

  Ben’s iron-firm arm kept her solidly against him. His kisses held fierce desperation that matched the torment raging inside her, drowning all her senses.

  Rhianne became aware only of Ben’s mouth on hers, his hand bringing her to life. Her shouted words of joy met his groans, both drowned by the sudden discordant wind chimes from the veranda.

  The river of madness went on, until Rhianne knew nothing but the dark hot place inside her and Ben’s heat against her skin. She reached the peak of need, longing, and cried out with it, Ben encouraging her all the way.

  The wave broke, Rhianne’s bare hips moving against Ben’s clad ones. Her voice was hoarse with her cries, Ben cradling her, stroking her hair to soothe her.

  After a long, long time, the fire began to recede, Rhianne quieting as it ebbed into a restful, comfortable warmth. At the same time, the wind chimes faded into a faint jingle.

  Ben held Rhianne close as she let out a long sigh, settling against him. He withdrew his fingers, taking away the smoldering embers.

  “I think you needed that,” he murmured.

  Rhianne snuggled against his shoulder. “Possibly.”

  “Yep, needed it.” Ben kissed her forehead, and Rhianne brushed back her tangled hair.

  “I’m a mess.”

  “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m not exaggerating.” Ben touched her cheek and gazed into her eyes. “The most beautiful.”

  Rhianne warmed at his flattery. If not for her father wanting to kill her, or terrify her, or manipulate her, or all three, she could be content at this moment. She lay with Ben, surrounded by the protective house, with new friends waiting down the hall. What more could she possibly want?

  She closed her eyes.

  And was immediately flooded by a sharp memory of standing on the porch railing, making the decision to jump from it as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Spreading her wings.

  Wings?

  Rhianne gasped and sat straight up, icy fear swamping her. “Goddess. That wasn’t a dream …”

  “You turning into a giant bird and flying away?” Ben put a comforting hand on her cold arm, but his eyes held wariness. “No, it was real. I saw the whole thing. I think you need to tell me about it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The panic in Rhianne’s eyes made Ben’s heart squeeze. He realized that her shape-shifting ability hadn’t been a secret she’d kept from Ben—she hadn’t known about it herself. Ben saw that clearly in the expression on her face.

  “This has never happened before?” he asked gently.

  “Never ever.” Rhianne swallowed. “I don’t understand. I’m not Shifter.”

  “Goblins can change their shape. Not that I’m saying you’re a goblin,” Ben added hastily. “Why shouldn’t Tuil Erdannan?”

  “Because we’re so full of ourselves we can’t imagine looking like anything else?” Rhianne’s lips twisted in a wry grimace.

  “Who knows what all you can do? You’re the most powerful people in Faerie.”

  “I’m not young.” Rhianne gazed down at him from the halo of her brilliant hair, bracing herself on a firm and shapely arm. “I’ve been around for eight hundred years.”

  “Yeah, well, I just passed my millennium. Happy birthday to me.”

  “Then you understand. When that much time has gone by, you’ve learned what talents you have and which you don’t.”

  “If you were anyone else, I’d agree.” Ben tucked his hand behind his head. “But the Tuil Erdannan are a mystery, even to themselves. You can do all kinds of things, including create a species of Shifter the hoch alfar couldn’t. Some even say they created the dokk alfar, just for shits.”

  “That’s a myth. Dokk alfar have been around longer than anyone. They are the original inhabitants of Faerie.”

  “You were taught that in a classroom.” Ben knew damn well who the original inhabitants of Faerie truly were, and it wasn’t the dokk alfar. Not important right now. “Trust me, sweetie, Tuil Erdannan have powers no one else understands. They do whatever they want. If you decide to turn into an eagle—why not?”

  “It wasn’t a conscious decision.” Rhianne frowned. “My body took over, and I had to do what it commanded.” She tapped the back of her head. “I was here, in the background, screaming at myself to stop, and I couldn’t.” She sent him a stricken look. “Ben, what if it happens again?”

  Ben wound a strand of her fiery hair around his fingers. “When I pleasured you just now, you lost control. Your body took over, but it seems like you enjoyed it. If that was a fake O, then you’re a damn good actress.”

  Rhianne’s cheeks went flame red. “It wasn’t fake.”

  “You see? You didn’t mind your body taking over then. And I’ll accept that as a hell of a compliment.”

  Rhianne slowly lowered herself to him. In a way, that was too bad, because the view of her breasts shadowed by her hair had been fantastic. Not that Ben minded the softness of Rhianne pressed to his side.

  “I don’t think I can explain how petrifying it was,” she said softly.

  “I’m going to comfort myself by thinking you mean the shifting.”

  “Of course I do. Stop trying to make me laugh.”

  Ben turned his head so they were nose to nose. “It’s what I do. Diffuse a tough situation with humor. You’re a strong woman, Rhianne. If you weren’t, what Walther did to you, not to mention being suddenly thrown into this whacky human world, would have broken you.” Instead, she’d yelled invective at her captors and taken her first motorcycle ride into New Orleans with Ben and had a blast.

  “Walther is an ass,” Rhianne said dismissively. “And with you, I feel safe.” Her little smile sent a warm throb to Ben’s heart. “Suddenly turning into a bird of prey is a different matter.”

  “Exactly. One you need to face. Tell me everything you can remember about it.”

  Ben could see she didn’t want to relive it, but he wasn’t wrong about her strength. She nodded.

  “I was watching Jaycee,” Rhianne began. “Thinking how unselfconscious she is. She disrobed without shame and then she eased so gracefully into her leopard form. I remember thinking, so that’s how it’s done, and then deciding there was no reason I shouldn’t.”

  Ben had watched Rhianne skim off her clothes, leap sinuously to the railing, and suddenly become an eagle. She’d done it effortlessly, while some Shifters always struggled with the change.

  Ben brushed back a lock of her hair. “The way I figure, there are two explanations. Maybe you’ve had this innate ability inside you all your life, but you were never around Shifters. They have a magic about them that they will forever deny. It’s not obvious like casting spells or your words of power, but their magic touches others and enhances any latent magic it senses. Like when they go into mating frenzy and make everyone else horny.” He forced himself to cease touching her before he acted on that thought. “Or, you, insanely powerful Tuil Erdannan, decided to learn a new skill.”

  Rhianne frowned. “Just like that?”

  “I bet you have wells of ability you’ve never tapped. Probably why the menfolk of Faerie want to grab on to you. Make
you do whatever you can do for them.”

  “Which is why my mother sent me here.” Rhianne sounded understanding, but the knowledge hurt her. It was hell being a thing to be used, he well knew. “But what if I can’t stop the shift the next time? What if we’re in a restaurant? What if I’m in bed with you?”

  She could kill him without meaning to. What Ben liked most about the question, though, was the assumption that she’d be in bed with him again.

  “Well, it would be a novelty,” Ben said, straight-faced. “Sharing a bed with an eagle. Feathers everywhere.”

  Rhianne grabbed the nearest pillow and whacked him with it.

  This led to a pleasant tussle, with Rhianne ending up beneath him, surrendering to Ben’s kisses.

  The interlude might have segued to something even better, but Jaycee’s voice sounded in the hall. “Rhianne? You awake?”

  Rhianne’s eyes widened. She wriggled out from under Ben, and Ben yielded, rolling away from her. Just before Jaycee opened the door, he raked the covers over his head, trying to look like an innocuous blanket lump.

  Jaycee paused in the doorway. “How about a shower?” she said to Rhianne.

  Rhianne had pulled up the sheets to shield herself, which put her bare hip next to Ben’s nose. He licked her hip, stifling a chuckle when Rhianne jumped.

  “A shower?” she squeaked.

  “You know, stand under a nozzle that sprays you with water. Do you have showers in Faerie?”

  “We do.” Rhianne slid toward the edge of the bed, still clutching the sheets.

  Jaycee moved to the closet, her footfalls catlike. “I have a robe in here you can borrow.”

  A slither of fabric landed on the blanket right over Ben’s feet. Rhianne said a grateful, “Thank you.”

  “Come on. I’ll show you the shower.”

  Rhianne’s legs disappeared and her weight left the bed. More silken sounds as Rhianne donned the robe and then the patter of her bare feet as she left the room.

  Ben remained still, but Jaycee’s voice floated back to him. “Morning, Ben.”