Dark Alpha's Awakening--A Reaper Novel

by Donna Grant

  Cael took a step toward her, then stopped as if remembering that they weren’t alone. She hated that she was both relieved that he hadn’t come to her and so disappointed that she wanted to cry out.

  “Is she safe?” Fintan demanded.

  Cael dragged in a breath and turned his head to Fintan. “Aye. Cat is with the others.”

  Fintan closed his eyes as his head dropped back, relief filling his face. Erith looked at the Reapers, each comforted that their woman was far away from harm.

  Talin and Neve embraced, talking low, their words private. Erith looked away, her gut twisting with jealousy that she didn’t have such a relationship.

  You could.

  No, she really couldn’t. How could Cael command the Reapers if he was with her? And how could she continue on as Death if she were constantly making love to Cael? It just couldn’t work.

  “Thank you,” Kyran said as he approached her. “Thank you for giving River and the others shelter.”

  She looked into his red eyes and inclined her head. “I should’ve done it earlier.”

  “How is she?” Kyran asked. “Is everything . . . all right?”

  Erith glanced at Cael. “As far as I know. I’m just glad that we got everyone out in time.”

  “It was close,” Baylon said.

  “Too damn close,” Cael added.

  Despite trying to keep from looking at him, Erith’s eyes slid back to Cael of their own volition. Their gazes met, and she saw anger and irritation in his gaze. She understood it because she felt it, as well.

  There was a war inside her, with one part wanting to go to Cael, letting everyone know that they were together. But the other part, the one that had spent countless millennia masking her feelings, went through all the things that could go wrong if the others discovered the truth.

  So she stayed where she was, wishing she was touching Cael.

  “They got through our spells easily,” Daire said. “I don’t like that.”

  Talin gave a shake of his head. “None of us do.”

  “When are we going after Bran?” Fintan demanded to know.

  It was Cael who said, “I want Bran more than any of you, and while I wish nothing more than to descend upon him and his army, patience is what will win us the day.”

  “Death does look better. Did you stop Bran from taking your power?” Daire asked her.

  Erith shook her head. She’d known this was coming, but she hadn’t thought about what she’d say. She took a deep breath and slowly released it. Then she let her sheathed sword appear at her side. Everyone’s gaze immediately went to it. The sword was the source of everything. She’d known it the moment she crafted it.

  For so long, she’d tried to forget her years as Mistress of War, but that was no longer possible. The Reapers had given her their loyalty all these centuries. It was time that she did the same. They’d each earned it a hundred times over.

  Slowly, she withdrew the weapon for everyone to see.

  Their gazes locked on her blade before returning to her, waiting for her to speak.

  She sheathed the weapon and lifted her chin. “I should’ve told you about the sword when you asked, Daire. I thought I could leave that part of my past behind, but Bran has made sure I can’t.

  “The blade is mine. I forged it long ago in the Fires of Erwar, and I used it to wage war on . . . everyone. Some knew me as the Mistress of War, but everyone feared me. I was Death even then, but I took innocent souls simply because I wanted to.”

  Fintan asked, “What changed?”

  Erith glanced at the white-haired Fae and saw Cael watching her out of the corner of her eye. “One day, I just didn’t want to do it anymore. I thought it was the sword that ruled me, so I took it someplace that I didn’t believe anyone would ever find it.”

  “Earth,” Kyran said.

  She nodded. “I buried it so deep in the realm’s core that no one could ever reach it. It is part of me, so it would only answer my call.”

  “Then why was Ettie able to use it?” Daire asked.

  “I wanted some good to come out of the weapon. When I knew that Bran was after Ettie and her family, I bade the sword go to the sister strong enough to fight Bran.”

  Daire smiled and bowed his head in thanks.

  Erith swallowed, wishing she were finished with the story. “When I set aside my sword, I told myself that I would no longer take life. That’s when I decided to create the Reapers.”

  “With Theo,” Baylon replied.

  “Theo was the first, yes.” Her gaze went to Cael. “But he wasn’t the one who gave me the idea. That was another.” She quickly jerked her gaze away from Cael. “I put the burden of taking souls I judged on each of you, but I realized two things. One, I’m still taking life, just not with my own hands. And, two, I can’t do that anymore.”

  Talin frowned. “Why the hell not? We’re doing a bang-up job.”

  “Damn right, we are,” Kyran stated.

  Erith found herself grinning. “What I meant to say, is that I’m not going to stand on the sidelines anymore. I’m Death. I’ve hesitated in taking up my sword again because I didn’t want to become Mistress of War, but if I don’t do something, Bran will kill me. And then he’ll come for each of you.”

  “I’m guessing this new thinking goes with the new look?” Neve asked, jerking her chin toward Death’s outfit.

  Erith looked at Cael. Damn, but she couldn’t stop it. “I was told that I needed to be Death and the Mistress of War.”

  She forgot everyone as she stared into Cael’s silver eyes, remembering what it felt like to be in his arms, to have him kiss her senseless. To be loved. She would do anything to return to the tower with him and spend days making love to him.

  His slight grin that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking was the thing that reminded her they weren’t alone. But when she looked at the others, none of them gave the impression that she and Cael had let anything slip.

  “Every kill my blade has taken is stored in the metal. It has returned enough power to restore me so that I can fight,” Erith told them.

  “But Bran can still take her life force from her,” Cael added. “He did yesterday after she let go of the weapon.”

  Erith frowned at the reminder. The thought of becoming so weak again, where she couldn’t even lift her arm, terrified her. She’d never felt so . . . helpless. And she hated it.

  “Unfortunately, Bran is going to keep taking my essence until I stop him.”

  “How do we help with that?” Baylon asked.

  “I know where he is. His men can’t see me when I’m veiled, but he has a barrier around the mansion, preventing me from getting close.”

  Kyran crossed his arms over his chest. “The fekker is scared of you.”

  “Damn right he is,” Talin added.

  Cael used his magic to hide his sword before he said, “We suspect that whatever Bran is using to take Death’s power is with him.”

  “So we call him out,” Daire suggested.

  Fintan shook his head. “He’ll suspect something. We’ll never get close enough.”

  “That’s right,” Cael agreed. “It’s why I’m hoping to find the Dark I saw in my meditation vision. Perhaps he can destroy whatever it is Bran has.”

  “That could take weeks. Months,” Neve stated in outrage. “We don’t have that long.”

  No, they didn’t, but Erith kept that bit to herself. She didn’t want to worry any of them more than they already were. Besides, it was her damn fault for taking so long to make the decision to fight.

  She was disgusted with herself for even considering not taking a stand. No one knew better than she that warfare was her expertise.

  All those wasted months that she could’ve been preparing for battle, implementing a plan to infiltrate Bran’s army, and any number of other scenarios.

  But she wasn’t going to think about that now. She’d made a decision, and had a path before her. It was time she focused solely
on that instead of the past.

  “What other plan do we have?” Baylon asked.

  Erith looked at each of them, ending with Cael. “You attack him in retaliation.”

  “Not that I don’t enjoy fighting his army,” Kyran said, “but why? We can’t kill them.”

  Cael was smiling as he realized her plan. “Because we’re going to keep Bran busy while Death finds whatever it is Bran is using to drain her.”

  “Tell me we’re going now,” Neve said with a smile.

  Fintan cracked his knuckles. “I’m in.”

  “As if you need to ask,” Kyran replied.

  Talin gave a bow of his head.

  “Hell, yes,” Daire said with a smile.

  Baylon nodded, grinning widely. “Oh, yeah.”

  Erith smiled at each of them. Then she found herself looking at Cael again. He held her gaze for a long time in silence. He closed the distance between them, making her lean her head back to peer up at him.

  He had that same commanding look in his gaze, the one he’d had when they made love. Her blood heated at the sight of it. He was close enough to touch, but somehow, she managed to keep her hands to herself, though it was likely the hardest thing she’d ever done.

  “Do you really need to ask?” Cael questioned. “I gave you my vow to follow you anywhere. That still holds. It always will. You point the way. We’ll be beside you.”

  She shifted, her fingers brushing his and sending a shock rushing through her. That brief touch was better than nothing, but she would’ve preferred to grab his face and pull it down so she could show him with a kiss just how much his words meant to her.

  “I need as long as you can give me,” she told them. “Be prepared for anything.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  A calmness swept over Cael as he stared at the mansion where Bran had taken up residence. Cael didn’t even want to think about what had happened to the humans who owned it. No doubt they were dead.

  Cael and his Reapers were veiled and hidden behind some trees, staying just out of sight of the veiled Dark patrolling the perimeter of the home. Any human driving up would have no clue that anything was amiss until it was too late.

  After following Death to the location, Cael kept his group at a distance until they could scope out the property. He sent Fintan and Daire to one side, and Talin and Kyran on the other.

  While Cael waited for them to report back, he found his gaze locked on Erith, who stood near the mansion, looking into a window on the left side. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in her. She could face anything and come out the victor.

  Just as she would with Bran. Cael was sure of it.

  He didn’t know how he could see her and the others couldn’t. He didn’t question it, but he was immensely grateful that he could. At least now, he would know where she was at all times.

  Cael knew the window she was at must be where Erith had last seen Bran. It killed Cael not to be with her, to watch her back. None of them should be going into the residence alone. If Cael were Bran, he would’ve set traps for just such a scenario.

  But Erith was smart. She would be prepared for such things. Still. He should be with her. He wanted to be with her.

  Fingers snapped in front of his face. Cael jerked his head to the side and shot Baylon a scowl. “What?” he barked.

  “I was about to ask you the same question.”

  Cael bit back a terse reply. Everyone was on edge, and it wouldn’t do him any good to snap at Baylon.

  With a sigh, Baylon said, “I know you have good reason to hate Bran, but so do the rest of us.”

  “I realize that. I also know each of you wants a piece of him for what he’s done to you and the women you love.”

  Neve came up on Cael’s other side. “What Baylon is trying to say is that you, Eoghan, and Death, don’t have to take Bran on by yourself. We’re here. We would like a piece of him. But,” she said, her gaze darting to Baylon when he tried to interrupt her, “he betrayed your group first. He killed your friends and divided the Reapers. We’ll wait for our slice of him once you’re all finished.”

  Cael held Neve’s silver eyes for a moment before he swiveled his head to Baylon, who grudgingly nodded.

  “Right,” Baylon said tightly.

  Cael nodded to both of them. “I doubt there will be anything left of Bran for me or Eoghan by the time Erith is done with him.”

  Neve smiled widely. “As long as I get to see him being crushed beneath her gorgeous boots, I’ll be fine.”

  The talk ceased as Talin, Kyran, Fintan, and Daire made their way back to him. With a last lingering glance at Death, Cael listened to their report.

  “We should do a coordinated attack surrounding the mansion,” Talin suggested.

  Daire shook his head. “We should focus on one section. The weakest point is a side door into the kitchen.”

  Cael wasn’t listening as the others voiced their opinions. In his head, he looked down on the area as if from above, mentally placing the Reapers and then letting his mind sort through how the attack might happen, including where and when Bran would appear.

  All of it was to see how Erith would get into the house and if she would have enough time to find what she sought. When that scenario didn’t work, Cael tried another, and another. And another.

  Finally, he blinked and realized that it was quiet. He looked around to find the others staring, waiting for him to speak. It had been a long time since Cael had been in this sort of situation.

  The skirmishes he and the other Reapers had been involved in with Bran in the past hadn’t involved such huge numbers—or weighed as heavily as this one did. Everything had to be perfect. There could be no mistakes. And since Cael was in charge, planning that fell on him.

  “We’ve each faced Bran one way or another these past months,” he said. “Some have confronted him alone, while we’ve all been together in other situations. We’re not here to kill him. We’re here as support for Death.”

  Kyran gave a nod, his brow furrowed. “We’ll be taking our anger out on the Dark. You don’t need to worry about us forgetting our mission.”

  “I’m telling myself this, as well.” Cael drew in a deep breath. “I’ve looked at this from all the angles. We’re going to surround the mansion.”

  Talin grinned. “Like I said.”

  Cael cut him a glance to silence him. “Neve, Bran is going to come straight for you as soon as he learns you’re here.”

  “Let him,” the newest Reaper stated.

  A muscle ticked in Talin’s jaw. “Yes. Please let him.”

  “Bran thinks he’s smarter than we are, and we’re going to let him believe that,” Cael announced.

  Fintan’s brow furrowed deeply, a sound rumbling in his throat to let Cael know he didn’t like the idea.

  “Shite. This is going to be harder than I thought,” Kyran mumbled.

  Cael gave a nod. “For me, as well. Talin, I want you to stay close to Neve, and then let yourself be separated from her. We want Bran to think that he’s isolated Neve and that none of us can get to her.”

  “So his attention will be on me,” Neve said with a grin. “I like it.”

  Talin’s lips compressed tightly. “I don’t.”

  “Your woman is a Reaper. She can handle it,” Baylon said to Talin.

  Neve gave him a nod. “Damn right, I can.”

  “She won’t be alone,” Cael said. “We’re setting this in motion. We’re going to make sure that we can get to her in time.”

  “He can’t kill me,” she said.

  Cael caught her gaze. “We’re not going to test that theory. Look what he did to Eoghan. He came for the females, but they got away. You’re the only one he can get to in order to hurt us.”

  Neve swallowed and glanced away before taking Talin’s hand in her own. “You’re right.”

  “You want all of us to come running to Neve’s side when Bran attacks?” Daire asked.

  Cael smiled as he shook his head.
“Talin and I will do that. Two of you will go for the kitchen door to get in.”

  “Daire and I’ll do that,” Baylon said.

  Fintan grinned. “That leaves more Dark for me and Kyran to go through.”

  The two bumped fists as Kyran said, “Hell yeah, it does.”

  “We fight the Dark. Taunt Bran all you want, but stay out of his reach,” Cael cautioned them. “Once Death gets what she needs, we leave.”

  Fintan cracked his knuckles. “They came for our women. Bran intended to kill them. I’m prepared to slice my way through as many Dark as needed.”

  “We all are,” Daire agreed.

  Cael turned his head to look at Erith. She hadn’t moved from her spot at the window. And just as he suspected, it was where Bran was. Cael caught a glimpse of his nemesis and felt a wave of rage rise up within him.

  “Erith,” he whispered.

  It felt like the softest caress when her lavender eyes landed on him. She shot him a smile and nodded.

  He watched her for another heartbeat and then returned his attention to the Reapers. “I don’t need to tell you to keep your anger in check. Bran will say and do anything to get us riled. We know the others are safe. No matter what, he can’t use them. But he’ll find another way.”

  “Like my brother,” Neve said softly.

  Cael nodded. “We each have a reason to hate, but we cannot let that emotion rule us.”

  “We won’t,” Baylon promised.

  Fintan rubbed his hands together. “Can we fight now?”

  Cael told each of them what positions to take around the mansion. They stood in silence for a moment. Fintan was the first to teleport away, with Neve and Talin quickly following. One by one, each of them appeared around the residence. Cael was the last to get into position.

  Seconds later, the alarm was raised, and the guards dropped their veils to attack the Reapers. It was only a moment later that Dark Fae flooded the area.

  Cael wanted to be where he could see Erith, but he knew that would be a mistake. He put himself on the other side so he’d remain focused on his warriors and not the woman he loved.