Soul Scorched

by Donna Grant

  She turned on her heel and started to walk away when Aisley called her name.

  Aisley came to stand beside her and touched her arm. “Druids need to stick together. You might need us one day.”

  Darcy heard her words as if through a tunnel. As soon as Aisley touched her, Darcy saw her future. Aisley and Phelan lived for hundreds more years, with Aisley returning twice in fire.

  Phoenix, a voice whispered in her head.

  Darcy turned her head and looked at Aisley in shock. The Phoenixes were supposed to be gone. “You’re a Phoenix.”

  Aisley dropped her hand and took a half-step back, her eyes narrowed. “How did you know?”

  “I see people’s futures. Most times it’s through palm readings or tarot cards, but there are rare times I see it when people touch me.”

  “Yes, I’m a Phoenix. It was handed down to me through my ancestors.”

  Darcy glanced over her shoulder into the room full of immortals and Druids. They didn’t need her, and it was doubtful they ever would. She turned her back to them but stopped short of walking away. Where was she to go? The bedroom for Con to interrogate her more? Back to Edinburgh?

  Darcy saw the front door and started toward it, needing some fresh air. She heard footsteps behind her and recognized the long strides as Warrick’s.

  “You don’t have to follow me. I have nowhere to go, remember?”

  “I’m no’ following you, lass,” he replied softly.

  She opened the door and walked outside, her feet not happy when she came in contact with the rocks.

  “If you wait, I’ll get you some shoes,” Warrick said.

  Darcy shook her head and turned toward the grass. She needed to think, to clear her head.

  She needed to be alone.

  That thought scattered when Warrick came even with her and slid his hand in hers. “You should give them a chance. Those from MacLeod Castle can be trusted.”

  “Maybe.” She slowed once she reached the grass, but she didn’t stop.

  They walked in silence. Every time they came to a fence, she climbed it while Warrick vaulted over it with one hand.

  Darcy didn’t know how far they walked until she glanced behind her and saw the manor was a speck in the distance. She stopped and let her gaze wander the wild beauty around her. “Will they come looking for me?”

  “Nay. I told them where we are.”

  That mental link. She was really going to have to remember that.

  “It’s going to be all right, Darcy,” Warrick said.

  She waited until they reached the top of the hill and took in the breathless splendor around her before she asked, “Will it? I’m not so sure. I can’t change what I’ve done, and people want to lump me in the category with evil because of it.”

  “No’ all of us.”

  Darcy looked up at him. Warrick’s hand touched her face before he glided his hand to the back of her neck and bent to give her a soft kiss.

  “Come with me,” he urged.

  As if Darcy could tell him no.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Warrick couldn’t wait on Darcy. He picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the cottage. It was one of three newly built ones after the battles over the past year. He set her down inside and closed the door behind him. As soon as she turned to him, he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her against him as he kissed her.

  Their first time together had been frantic and intense. He wanted to go slow, to savor her. Not once did he stop and wonder why, he just accepted it.

  Warrick backed her into the living area where a plush fur rug lay between the fireplace and a sofa. He felt her palms against his flesh as she tugged up his shirt and caressed his stomach and chest.

  He broke the kiss to remove his shirt, but she stopped him. It took him bending down before she could pull it over his head.

  Her fern green eyes were alight with desire that made his balls tighten in need. Warrick put his hands at her waist and slowly, gently raised her shirt enough to get his hands beneath.

  He caressed upward, pushing the shirt up as he did, until he cupped her breasts. Before he took off her shirt, he let his thumbs swipe over her nipples. They were hard instantly.

  Warrick grinned in satisfaction.

  He took his time tugging the shirt up and over her head before tossing it aside so that she stood in her bra and jeans.

  “My turn,” she said.

  A groan locked in his throat when she cupped his aching cock through his jeans. After a soft squeeze, she unbuttoned his jeans. Then, with agonizing slowness, she pulled the zipper down.

  Their gazes locked as she knelt before him and yanked his pants down past his hips to his knees and wrapped her hand around his cock.

  Warrick fisted his hands in her hair and closed his eyes as the full measure of pleasure surrounded him. A moment later, her mouth enveloped his rod. He moaned, his hips moving of their own accord. Her hot mouth was bliss, her hands stroking his length as she took him deeper was pure ecstasy.

  Darcy loved the feel of his arousal. It was velvet wrapped around steel. She’d barely gotten started when he withdrew from her mouth and picked her up so that she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “You’ll be the death of me,” he said with a grin.

  She wound her arms around his neck. “Enjoyed that, did you?”

  “Verra much.”

  “Then why did you stop?”

  “Because I want you stripped.”

  Darcy looked into his cobalt gaze as he dropped to his knees, and then slowly lowered her onto the fur rug. He kicked his pants off and unbuttoned hers before he looked at the fireplace.

  “Let me,” Darcy said and snapped her fingers.

  A large flame burst around the logs set there, shedding a red-orange glow around the room. Warrick’s smile grew. He jerked her zipper down, and then tugged the jeans over her hips and down her legs.

  Darcy didn’t realize until the air touched her that he’d removed her panties with her jeans. He laughed as he leaned over her and rolled them so that she was on top of him. She straddled him and felt her bra give as he unhooked it.

  She pulled it off as she sat up and tossed it away. Then she touched his face. He’d come into her life so suddenly, saving her from beings she hadn’t known existed. He’d risked his life for her. Something no one else had ever done.

  The only time she felt as if she had someone who understood her was when he was near. She trusted him. Completely, wholly. Implicitly.

  “What?” he asked softly.

  She leaned over him so that their lips were almost touching. “I owe you so much.”

  “Nay,” he whispered as he slid his hands in her hair.

  He brought her head down for a kiss. It was slow, erotic, and seductive. It teased her senses, tantalized her soul.

  Darcy let go of all the weight of the happenings over the last few days. She ran her hands over his rock hard chest, his thick shoulders.

  Time was lost as their hands caressed and stroked, learning and studying the other. The fire within them burned hotter, brighter.

  Stronger.

  Moans and soft sighs filled the cottage. Their breaths mixed, their limbs tangled as they rolled around the rug while desire swelled.

  Need, thick and strong, tightened within her when the head of his arousal pressed against her. Then he thrust and slid inside her.

  Darcy marveled at the sinew beneath her palm. She loved the weight of him as he settled over her. He was passion and pleasure in one tasty package.

  Warrick ground his teeth as her tight sheath gripped him. He pumped his hips, their bodies sliding over each other.

  He couldn’t get enough of her. He couldn’t kiss her enough, touch her enough. And he feared what that meant.

  Looking down at her, Warrick knew. She was his mate. It didn’t matter whether he wanted one or not. She was his. All he had to do was take her.

  Her auburn curl
s were spread around her, her swollen lips parted as soft cries fell from them. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Fern green eyes opened and met his gaze. Her legs tightened an instant before she climaxed. At the feel of her clamping down on him, Warrick felt his own orgasm take him.

  They rocked against the other, each lost in the pleasure—and each other.

  Warrick held her close as he rolled to his side. The aftermath of their lovemaking sheltered them from the harsh realities of the outside world.

  * * *

  “Well?” Con asked the Warriors and Druids as he walked into the sitting room. “What do you think of Darcy?”

  “We just met her,” Lucan said.

  Fallon nodded. “It’s hard to say.”

  “No’ for me,” Phelan replied.

  Aisley looked at him askance. “Are you serious? After what we went through? I was drough, Phelan.”

  “And you knew what you were doing,” he said.

  Larena blew out a breath. “I believe Darcy does as well. She’s wary, as she should be.”

  “Especially after enduring the Dark,” Cara pointed out.

  Con had expected the Druids would side with Darcy. “She didna endure anything other than being stuck in her shop while War and Thorn fought off the Dark.”

  “I wouldn’t say she came out of that unaffected,” Larena said, a hard edge to her voice. “Darcy saw things she didn’t know were even around.”

  Lucan scratched his chin as he thought. “Aye, but she knew she was helping a Dragon King. Before Ulrik she didna know the Kings were here either.”

  “So we’ve been told,” Phelan said.

  Aisley rolled her eyes. “I love you, Phelan, but you can be so thick sometimes.”

  “You know as well as I do that Corann knows more than he tells anyone,” Phelan argued.

  Just what Con had wanted someone to mention. “So you think Corann knows of us?”

  Phelan shrugged. “I’m saying it’s a possibility. If he does, he wouldna share that with the others.”

  “So he wouldna have told Darcy,” Fallon said.

  “This can be solved easily,” Cara said. “We need Reaghan.”

  Con crossed his arms over his chest. The Druid who could tell if someone was lying with a touch. Just what they needed. Con knew that Warrick wasn’t about to let him near Darcy again, but Con had to know the truth.

  All of them did—no matter how hard it was.

  “What if she’s innocent?” Lucan asked.

  Con shrugged. “She’s no’. She unbound Ulrik’s magic.”

  “Some of it,” Aisley corrected.

  “Some, all. It matters no’,” Con stated.

  Fallon glanced at Larena before he looked at Con. “It does. If the worst thing Darcy did was help Ulrik, then you need to find who sent the Dark after her.”

  “Do I?” Con asked.

  Aisley gave him a dubious look. “You know the Skye Druids put a spell on themselves so they can never harm another with magic or help evil.”

  “But there’s no doubt Ulrik is evil,” Phelan argued.

  Cara lifted one shoulder. “Apparently there is some doubt, because as soon as she tried to help him, her magic would’ve vanished.” Cara turned her head to Con. “Did you consider that?”

  “Of course.” As if he hadn’t considered every possibility.

  Larena raised a blond brow. “If Darcy had never unbound Ulrik’s magic, then your Kings wouldn’t have found love.”

  “I know.” The spell would still be in place, and Con wouldn’t have to worry about a human betraying them again. “We wouldna be fighting MI5 or the Dark.”

  “We wouldna be happy,” said a voice behind him.

  Con turned to the side to see Hal, Kiril, Guy, Tristan, Banan, Kellan, Laith, and Rhys. The eight of them radiated fury. But Con didn’t care. They didn’t know what it meant to be responsible for an entire race. They didn’t feel the weight of decisions or the blanket of worry that he could never shed.

  They thought him callous and cold. Let them. It was better that they thought the worst of him, because he had long ago realized he would do whatever it took to ensure that the Dragon Kings lived in as much peace as they could.

  He wouldn’t be a part of that serenity, but it was a price he would pay for his men.

  “It’s the truth,” Con told them. “If this is what it’s like with only some of Ulrik’s magic returned, can you imagine what it’ll be when he has it all? We’ll be fighting the Silvers to keep them locked away while also battling Ulrik, the humans, and the Dark. All of that can be easily stopped.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Aisley said in a strangled voice.

  Con took a deep breath. “Sacrificing one to save our race? Aye, I certainly would.”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-NINE

  Warrick felt the push in his head from Con, but he decided not to answer. He wanted time alone with Darcy that didn’t involve thinking about the Dark Fae, Ulrik, or her involvement.

  He wound an auburn curl around his finger as they lay on their sides facing the fire. Warrick rose up on his elbow and looked down at Darcy.

  She turned her head to him and smiled. “I forgot what this feels like.”

  “What?” he asked, intrigued.

  “To do nothing. To be alone.” She faced the fire again. “We don’t have long, do we?”

  “We have as long as you want. We’re still on Dreagan, so you doona need to worry about the Dark.”

  “I was talking about Con and the others.”

  He paused as he heard Con’s voice in his head call his name again. “I’ll keep them away for as long as I can.”

  “Why don’t you see me as they do?” she asked softly. “Why don’t you condemn me? I see how they look at me, how they speak to me. You don’t. Why?”

  Warrick swallowed. A few minutes earlier, he’d been ready to declare to the world she was his mate. He wouldn’t deny it now, not even to himself. But that didn’t mean he was ready to tell Darcy or anyone else either.

  “Because I know you,” he said.

  She snorted and shot him a quick glance. “Not really. We’ve been forced together. I doubt you would’ve been so ready to hear my story otherwise.”

  “I’m no’ so sure about that,” he said, recalling how he felt the first time he laid eyes on her. “I would want to know all about you regardless.”

  “Don’t be nice. I can’t handle that right now.”

  He frowned and rolled her onto her back so he could look down at her. “You think I’m being nice?”

  “We just had sex, Warrick. We’re naked in a cottage together. Of course I think you’re being nice.”

  “Then you doona know me verra well.” He was hurt by her words. Warrick got to his feet and began to gather their clothes. “I brought you out here to get you away from the manor.”

  “Or to get me to trust you more so I might tell you anything I could be keeping secret.”

  It was so close to what Con had suggested that Warrick paused and looked at her. “Did it never occur to you that I’m trying to help?”

  She sat up and brought her knees to her chest. “Yes. I also remember that Con wanted you to bring me to Dreagan so I could tell him everything I knew about Ulrik.”

  “Which you have.”

  Darcy looked at the fire and nodded. “Yes.”

  Warrick knew she was referring to the fact he hadn’t told her he was initially sent to find out about Ulrik. Of course she would wonder if he was using their connection now.

  “I’m no’ here on Con’s order. I’m not with you to get close to see if you know more about Ulrik. I’m here because I want to be.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  He stared at her for a moment, hoping she would look at him. Finally, he answered. “Aye. I do.”

  “You’re the only one.”

  “I’m on your side, Darcy.”

  When she refused to look at him, Warrick got dressed. He did
n’t know what else to say to convince her. Everything that came out of his mouth only seemed to agitate her more.

  It’s one of those times he hated that he didn’t converse well with others. Not to mention he didn’t understand females at all. He’d thought Darcy was happy with him in the cottage, but she looked dejected and miserable.

  Perhaps she required a little time to herself. Warrick knew he needed advice on how to handle the situation. He only hoped one of the other Kings would actually help him with her.

  He understood their animosity toward her helping Ulrik. The fact Darcy kept taking up for Ulrik didn’t help. Warrick didn’t like that she kept doing that either. But, in a way, he understood.

  She wasn’t taking up for Ulrik. She was taking up for herself. Darcy was proving to herself and everyone else that she hadn’t done wrong since she still had her magic.

  If she still had her magic, Ulrik couldn’t be evil.

  The problem with that was that everyone knew he was evil.

  Warrick ran a hand down his face. “I’m going to collect some firewood. Do you need anything?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Warrick dressed, his gaze never leaving Darcy. If only she would look at him, he could gauge her feelings. Yet she kept her face toward the fire.

  Once he finished putting on his shoes, he paused beside her and tugged on a ringlet. “I’ll no’ be gone long.”

  Darcy waited until the door closed behind Warrick before she buried her face in her hands. The tears had been slowly falling, but now the floodgates were open.

  Her shoulders shook as she let all of her emotions out. She had really thought Warrick cared about her. So much so, that she let herself think there might be something more between them.

  What a fool she had been.

  It had been in front of her from the very beginning. She might not have wanted to see it, and even refused to see it at the manor. But she couldn’t deny it anymore.

  Mainly because after making love to him again, Darcy knew she had feelings for Warrick—deep feelings. The kind that made her nauseous and excited at once. The kind that made her want to tell him how she felt.