Capturing the Last Welsh Witch

by J. M. Davies

  Ella clearly heard his words and knew he understood what was happening to her.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she whispered. Her head moved back against the seat and she shut her eyes, demanding her raging heart to slow as she took short pants to steady her erratic breathing.

  “Look, you’re feeling—there’s no better way than to just say it. You’re feeling aroused, am I right?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at him; this was embarrassing. She simply nodded and squirmed in her seat. He pushed a plastic cup into her hand and lifted it to her mouth. Without opening her eyes, she swallowed the liquid down without giving it a second thought, praying that he was helping her, not leading her into danger.

  “Apparently, your body is craving sex. Not just random sex with anyone, but with your mate. When you’re close to him, your body responds and it triggers a surge of hormones. You get hot and well, you end up feeling the way you do. You need to have sex or achieve an orgasm and then you’ll feel better. I’m sorry.”

  Ella listened to each word he spoke and was about to nod off, but knew that Marcus’s tone was off. He sounded unsure, and there was a bite to his words, especially when he said mate. However, his final statement, I’m sorry, woke her up. A sleepy Ella blinked at him, startled, frustrated, and shocked. Her cheeks flushed and her mouth opened.

  “No, you cannot be…it’s not possible,” she quietly hissed. She wanted to scream. “You’ve had me in shackles for most of the time I’ve been with you. You are working for the FBI, and you’re meant to be bringing me in. I’m not falling for the ‘I’m your mate’ thing, so go to hell, Armani.”

  A smirk lifted across his face, and he touched Ella’s hand, which waved furiously around to illustrate her point. Marcus grabbed her wrist and rubbed his thumb in a sweeping and mesmerizing rhythm.

  A gasp of pleasure involuntarily escaped her lips and she jerked her head around to peer at him. She bit into her lip and tasted the metallic saltiness of blood in her mouth. Dear God!

  “Believe you me, I’m still trying to process it all, but I’m willing to ease your suffering.”

  His mischievous smirk had her heart pounding—not from desire but molten anger. Ella shook her head and pulled her hand away from his. Turning away so her back faced him, she coiled herself into a ball and stared out at the cloud-filled sky. Her eyelids were heavy and she could no longer stay awake. It was all too much.

  Marcus settled back into his seat, the easy smirk dissolving. He knew Ella was exhausted from the past couple of days and yet still she managed to get herself involved in whatever was going on at the airport. He blew out a sigh of exasperation, and glanced over at the now sleeping Ella. Sweeping his gaze over her lovely and perfect features was like receiving an electric shock to his heart and it raced irregularly. As he stared at her, he held his breath inside his lungs; a million thoughts pounded inside his brain. He had never cared for someone, and no one had ever cared truly for him. Women wanted him, mostly because he was a SEAL. No one truly wanted the baggage that came with that: the nightmares, the deep scars, the broken and terrifying parts of him that he didn’t share with anyone. What would Ella make of them? He had never allowed anyone to get close, and couldn’t begin to understand what belonging to someone would be like. He’d rejected a long time ago anything that defied logic and yet gazing at this extraordinary woman, he couldn’t bring himself to deny her. Could he? She had nightmares of her own; maybe they could heal each other? But his mother’s words chilled him.

  Mate. Father was a soul-shifter.

  His mother’s confession about his father compounded his confusion. And the words kept bashing inside his brain until he was dizzy. His head was about to detonate with the news his mother had dropped in his lap. Before she had left, she kindly informed him that until Ella fulfilled her need, she would get weaker. No pressure. He yawned. All his resolutions about leaving her alone since then had flown out the window. The sedative he had given her would settle her for tonight but as the moon grew larger, so would her need for him. And as long as they could keep their hands off each other, she would be fine. At least, until they could talk about what was happening to her. Marcus had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that she didn’t know.

  Marcus. Marcus.

  She looked no more than a child curled up the way she did. His mate. His. Hell. Allowing his gaze to sweep over her sleeping form, he ripped open the plastic packet containing the thick red blanket and placed it over her. At any other time, he would have gladly jumped at what she desperately needed without another thought, but it was different now. This was Ella and she was his blasted mate! If he accepted this fact, it would mean he would have to accept everything, including the fact that he, too, was different. That he’d lost his childhood because of all that came with that fact. His mother had given him the quick idiot’s guide to being a mate and his stomach clenched.

  According to Josephine, a mate is a lifelong commitment and to find your mate was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of event. Having sex was part of the bonding but to complete the joining, there was more and once the steps were completed, it was forever. He couldn’t swallow or breathe as he recalled his mother’s weighted words. A tight twist in his gut caught him as his mind tossed that idea over and over. It explained the need to protect her, which overrode his need to stay alive or do his job, which he seemed to have forgotten. Ella may be suffering, but she wasn’t the only one.

  He adjusted his position to ease the growing strain and discomfort in his pants. Marcus ran his hand across his forehead and signaled the air hostess for a drink. The idea of commitment, of family and all that entailed, brought on a cold sweat. However, as Marcus swallowed his drink, he acknowledged the decision he had made as he sat next to Ella, flying across the Atlantic Ocean on some wild-goose chase. His career with the FBI was up in flames. As the cold liquid slipped easily down his throat and burned at the back, he grimaced at his mother’s words.

  “Your destiny is intertwined. I see a child, but you must make the right decision. Ella is your mate, and she needs you.”

  Closing his eyes, a clear image of a smiling boy with blond locks faced him. The child was no more than three years old, but he smiled, a carefree smile, and his face lit up. He was in a garden edged with hedges and flowers. Laughter filled the air, and his heart ached with love. Gasping, Marcus shook himself awake. There was no mistake that child was the spitting image of Ella, but before he jerked himself awake, he caught sight of Ella running toward the little boy, sweeping him up in her arms and swinging him around. It was a beautiful sight. His heart beat loudly in his ears and he swept his vision over the sleeping woman next to him. Whatever she was, there was a future out there for them—if he had the balls to grab it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Marcus hadn’t managed any sleep on the plane or the train that took them from Heathrow and left them in the bustling Cardiff Central station. Standing outside the station as people passed him by, thick plumes of cigarette smoke made him want one badly. An old habit and one he had kicked a long time ago but the smell was enticing. It was a gray day, and the start of drizzle didn’t improve the tension in his body. Everything had been so easy: as soon as he spoke with Jake late last night, the plan had been put into supersonic action. Ben Steel, his old captain, who had left the SEALs around the same time as him, had set up his own elite security company and was doing extremely well working for wealthy clients around the world, where money was no object. Jake was in contact with him and after Marcus had discussed his plans, the tickets were arranged, along with the use of Ben Steel’s private jet. It made him nervous to accept help, even if it was from an old friend who owed him big-time.

  Going through mainstream security would have been impossible to pull off without one of them getting flagged. He was nearly always stopped and searched each time he entered an airport anywhere; it was a given. His colorful passport had so many stamps from countries that were constantly in the news for some type of ter
rorist attack or civil unrest. He rubbed the back of his stiff neck and squinted at the sudden appearance of sun between the thick rolling clouds. Ella was quiet and as subdued as a church mouse after sleeping through the flight and the train journey. He actually missed the sound of her voice, but knew, like him, she must be swamped with all that he’d said, and the drug he gave her made her sleepy.

  “I’ve booked us into a hotel right in the heart of the city center. I thought we’d go and check in, have a shower and get something to eat before we head off. Where are we heading to?” Marcus stood and twisted his shoulder to ease some of his knots and placed his sunglasses on his face. The sunshine was evaporating the clouds, and warmth spread across his back. He lifted his gaze toward Ella, who pulled her short skirt down, which was impossible as there was only so much material. Eventually, she gave up and shoved her bag over her shoulder, glancing around as she shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. Finally, she looked over at him.

  “Sorry?”

  “Ella, have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”

  “Yes, no, sorry. I’m feeling hot and…” She drew her lips into a tight line. Her words hung awkwardly in the air as she looked away.

  Marcus knew exactly what she was about to say. What was happening to her never left his mind, and he knew it made her uncomfortable. It had the same effect on him and knowing he was responsible didn’t help. For a second, he was speechless. People were glancing at them and nodding. Marcus politely nodded back and noticed when the clock chimed, it was already two o’clock. “I know how you’re feeling. None of this is easy, but I promise we’ll figure it out.” They were his words, but he couldn’t believe he was saying them. He was making a promise, one he wasn’t sure he could keep.

  What the hell was he doing? He was trying to gain her trust because after fleeing the country with Ella, they were in this together. His time with the FBI was most certainly done. Did he even care? Marcus caught hold of her hand and squeezed it tightly in his. If he choose to believe his mother, then he was responsible for the way Ella was behaving. If. She was his responsibility and he needed to help her. Ella gave him a startled look at the unexpected touch, and her cheeks erupted with red blotches on them.

  “I can’t seem to think straight when you’re around. You’re messing with my head.”

  He stepped closer and his finger tapped the end of her nose. “You’re having the same effect on me, you know.”

  Ella’s body swayed toward his like a flower toward the sun, and as his hand touched the skin on her cheek, she blinked. Marcus lowered his head and kissed her moist, soft lips that begged for his touch and his alone. That knowledge alone was intoxicating. She tasted so sweet, and soon his tongue teased her lips open so he could explore her mouth, possessing her. Ella’s tongue dueled with his, and instantly he pulled her against his strong body, leaving no space between them.

  “Get a room!” Someone walking by shouted.

  Marcus lifted his head, but didn’t release her; he cupped her cheek and stroked his thumb across tenderly. He smiled down at her and kissed the tip of her nose.

  “Come on, they’re right. We can check in—it’s past two o’clock.” He pulled her to the side of the road but she pulled away, unwilling to move.

  “Hang on. I thought you said no touching? What’s changed?”

  “A lot. Now come on.” Marcus grabbed her hand and pulled her to the edge of the road to flag a taxi. He swept his hand into the air; a taxi pulled up and the two of them jumped in. The taxi-man collected their bags, and Marcus gave the man the address of their hotel. A short while later, the large black taxi-cab pulled up outside the Hilton. It was opposite Cardiff Castle, right in the center of the city. Stepping out of the taxi, Marcus reached for Ella’s hand to help her out.

  “Thank you.” Ella stood up, adjusted her crumpled top and yawned.

  “I’ve booked the honeymoon suite, and I fully intend to use it.” Marcus spoke to the driver as he handed over a fist full of notes, and the man grinned as he glanced back at Ella. Their bags were already loaded onto a brass trolley and were being taken into the large glass encased hotel. Following on the heels of the hotel doorman, they walked in on an elegant and shiny granite tiled floor across an expansive foyer full of large golden mirrors, crystal chandeliers, and pale marble columns. Beautiful fresh flower arrangements adorned the glass and golden hall tables. Modern striped art decked the walls and sumptuous cerise velvet armchairs added splashes of colors to the luxurious interior.

  “Marcus, are you joking?” Ella whispered against his shoulder. When she looked at him with those big luminous eyes large enough that you could swim in them, he wanted to sweep her off her feet and not worry about later or tomorrow. “About what, Ella—the fact that I said I’ve booked the honeymoon suite, or that I intend to use it?”

  She had the habit of tugging on her lower lip when she was nervous, and he couldn’t shake his gaze off it. He inched closer.

  “Both.” She stared at the ground.

  “Ella, I’m not sure how much longer you can keep going without some release and damn it, there’s only so much a man can take, and I am very much a man.”

  He moved against her, as if proving it was as uncomfortable for him as it was for her. Marcus saw her look of understanding and walked faster toward the glamorous lady at reception, who checked them in. The woman gave him more than the once-over. Her eyes rested on Ella’s briefly as she handed over the key card. Marcus smiled politely, and placed a protective arm around Ella’s waist to guide her toward the elevators. There was only one woman he was interested in, even though she was wanted by the FBI and the Elusti, and her soul had been around for five hundred years—if he believed her story. In spite of all of that, she was the most intoxicating woman in the world, and as much as he should stay away, he was way past that now.

  “I need to tell you something, Marcus. I need to explain…”

  The doors to the elevator clanked opened and a group of people spilled out around them.

  Marcus strode in and she hesitated before she followed him. He knew although her body desired him with a desperate need, her mind was a different matter. When he stared down at her delicate heart-shaped face, he saw her terrified look. He stepped forward and tugged her inside as the doors closed.

  “I know all about the mating thing, and I think I have the answer. I can relieve some of your need. I know how to please women; trust me. You’ll be stronger, you’ll feel better, and we don’t need to have sex. Then, we’ll go wherever you need to go,” he said, so matter-of-fact that he managed to convince himself that would be enough.

  “Marcus, it doesn’t work that way. For a while, the need will recede but it won’t dissolve and if we have sex, it won’t end. I will always want you. Only you and it will be the same for you. It is a powerful bonding and not one that can be undone unless one of us dies. You’re right—it will make me stronger, but it will also make you stronger and your insight will not be hidden any longer. Are you prepared for all that?”

  “There are steps to the bonding, steps that we don’t have to take. This, I know. I can help you without us bonding, if you want?”

  He gazed at her beautiful face and let his words sink in. If they did have sex, she would be his but they could still walk away from each other if they didn’t completely bond. His mother had mentioned that she had decided not to bond with his father for personal reasons. There were tears in her eyes when she revealed this. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around all of this, to be honest. Try as he might to deny his feelings toward Ella, if she kept wiggling her tiny butt any longer he was going to push the emergency button and he would take her right here in the elevator despite his declaration that he would help her without sex. She was his undoing.

  The elevator came to a jolting stop and the doors slowly heaved opened. It pinged, letting them off on the top floor to the honeymoon suite. Marcus cupped the side of Ella’s face and drew her lips to his in a s
oft, urgent kiss while his arms held the doors open.

  “Let’s take one step at a time,” he whispered against her neck; she shivered against him and stroked his chest with her hand. With that, he stepped back from her and waved her out of the elevator before slowly walking behind her.

  Ella kept looking over her shoulder to check that Marcus was actually there, thinking that maybe he had decided to make a quick escape. She couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t every day the person who was your target, a suspected murderer, turned out to be your mate who needed sex in order to be able to function normally. But his words trust him twisted inside herself. Could she trust him? In all her lives, she had never met her mate. She had given up believing he even existed. The fact that it was Marcus was absurd, ironic, and yet deliciously sinfully perfect. She couldn’t help but laugh out loud. A hand grabbed her shoulder and twisted her sharply around.

  “Just exactly which part of this is funny, Ella?” Marcus scowled.

  His obsidian eyes and his face, all angles and planes, studied her intently. She sucked in the air and stared at his handsome face. He was beautiful in a lethal way. Her arms automatically reached and stroked his bulging biceps, feeling the hard, tight muscle under his shirt.

  The touch made him gather her up by her waist and he threw her over his shoulders as she screeched. Marcus slid the room key through the slot; the green light came on and the door beeped. He strode through the living room and kicked the bedroom door open. He didn’t stop walking until he nudged up against the massive king-sized bed dressed in luxurious white bedding. A huge bouquet of delicate pink roses filled a large crystal vase on the dresser and rose petals were scattered on the bed. Lifting Ella’s petite frame off his shoulders, he tossed her onto the flower-strewn bed and she giggled nervously.

  “There’s champagne chilling in the fridge, as well as chocolate-covered strawberries. Why don’t you take a shower and then I will.” He watched her for a moment before he turned away and left her alone in the room.