Soul Scorched

by Donna Grant

  Warrick’s cobalt gaze narrowed a fraction before he got to his feet to stand beside her. “I’m on your side, Darcy,” he said in a soft voice.

  She blinked but didn’t keep eye contact with him. It was too difficult. Besides, she was tired of crying. The sooner she got away from Warrick, the sooner her heart could begin to heal.

  “We need to get going,” Thorn said.

  Warrick glanced at her feet. “She’s barefoot.”

  Darcy walked past the both of them to the door. She opened the door, but Thorn pulled her back so he could exit first. He shot her an annoyed look.

  After Thorn had a look around, he motioned them to follow. Warrick stayed beside Darcy the entire time. He shortened his strides while his hand rested on the small of her back. It was both comforting and irritating. She wanted to turn and bury her head in his chest and have his strong arms wrap around her again.

  “What happened?” Warrick whispered. “One moment you were smiling, and the next you wouldna look at me.”

  She quickened her steps, hating to be exposed. Darcy was happy they were headed toward the woods. They would provide some cover, at least.

  “Facts,” she said.

  “Facts? I doona understand.”

  Darcy glanced at him, and then regretted it when she saw the confusion reflected in his eyes. His blond hair was mussed from constantly running his hands through it. “You’re immortal. I’m mortal. You fight against Ulrik. I unbound his magic. Your place is on Dreagan. Mine isn’t.”

  “You didna mind these ‘facts’ when we were making love,” he said tightly.

  Darcy’s heart broke a little more. Why did she have to like him so much? Why couldn’t he have kissed badly or had bad breath or something? Why did he have to be so damn perfect for her?

  She didn’t get a chance to respond because Warrick grabbed her hand and started running to the woods. He pulled her along, while she struggled to stay on her feet and not face-plant.

  Once they reached the woods, Warrick stopped and pulled her against him. He pressed her between his chest and a pine tree.

  Darcy peered around him and saw Thorn to their left. He gave Warrick a nod, and they began to make their way quietly through the woods.

  There was no more time to talk, no more time to share any last thoughts—or regrets. Darcy held onto Warrick’s hand tightly, wishing there was some way they could be together. There was just too much standing between them.

  They moved quickly and quietly, stopping occasionally to listen. Darcy’s feet ached from the cold earth and the many pine needles, pinecones, and other sticky things that poked her feet ruthlessly.

  Several times she had to bite her tongue not to cry out. It seemed an eternity later that Thorn and Warrick stopped and Ulrik walked from around a tree.

  “I was beginning to think you changed your mind,” Ulrik said to Warrick.

  Warrick’s hand tightened on hers. “It wasna my decision to make.”

  “You’re really going to let her go?”

  Was it just Darcy, or was there a double meaning to Ulrik’s words?

  There was a long pause before Warrick said, “For now.”

  “He’ll never forgive you for this,” Ulrik told both Warrick and Thorn. “I hope you understand what it means to have Con turn against you.”

  Warrick looked down at Darcy. “He’ll never know.”

  She hoped for Warrick’s sake that Con never did. But even if Con discovered the truth, she was sure Warrick could take care of himself. He was too strong, too good.

  “Be safe,” Warrick said.

  Darcy nodded, feeling those damn tears again. “And you.”

  “I want you to know th—”

  “Warrick,” Thorn interrupted as he looked back the way they had come.

  Warrick followed his gaze. “Shite.” He turned to Darcy and released her. “You need to go. Now!”

  “Come on,” Ulrik said urgently and grabbed her arm.

  Ulrik pulled her after him until Warrick was out of sight. Darcy had thought her heart was heavy before. Now, it felt as if it were weighing her down.

  “You shouldna have left him,” Ulrik said.

  Darcy jerked her gaze to him. “What?”

  “You’re Warrick’s mate. Con wouldna have killed you once Warrick admitted it. He’s made that mistake before.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “Because Warrick doesna want to admit you’re his. He’s never wanted a mate.”

  Darcy tried to stop, but Ulrik was too strong and kept pulling her after him. “Warrick wouldn’t have let Con touch me.”

  “Nay, he wouldna have.”

  “Then why did you talk me into coming with you?” she demanded.

  Ulrik finally stopped and faced her. “Because I need you.”

  She shivered and tried to pull her hand from his, but his grip was too tight. “You’re a fool if you think I’m going to unbind any more of your magic here. We’re too close to Dreagan.”

  “Did you stop to wonder why I didna come see you for several years after you first unbound my magic?”

  Darcy frowned. Ulrik’s voice had changed. It was soft, too soft. “Of course I did. I assumed you needed time.”

  “Assumed,” he repeated with a wry smile. “You mortals always make the mistake of assuming things. Why would I need time? I finally had a Druid who was able to touch dragon magic and begin to undo what Con and the others had done. I should’ve returned the next week and had you keep going.”

  “But you didn’t.” Shit. What had she missed? Was it right in front of her? Because it was obvious Ulrik had been doing something. “Did you find another Druid?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “There’s no’ another like you, Darcy. That fact made me reconsider things. It would only be a matter of time before Con discovered you and what you had done. I’m no’ without my share of enemies. I knew they too would find you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I had to have another way of gaining my magic.”

  Darcy rubbed her temples. She was cold, tired, and getting pissed. “I had to touch your magic.”

  “And you did. Through another Druid. You know her as Dorothy MacAvoy.”

  Her knees threatened to buckle as the world began to spin. Every week Mrs. MacAvoy would come in. Every week Darcy read her palm. There were Druids who could take in another’s magic without them realizing it. Was that what Dorothy had done? It was the only explanation.

  “Ah. I see you’ve figured it out,” Ulrik said.

  Darcy tried to pull her hand from his again, but he tightened his grip. She gritted her teeth and yanked her hand free. “Do you have all your magic?”

  “I think I’ll keep that to myself.”

  “You don’t need me anymore.”

  Ulrik held her gaze without responding. But that was answer enough.

  “What now?” Darcy asked, dread making her stomach drop to her feet. “Why did you talk me into coming with you?”

  “Because I refuse to allow Con to have you.”

  Darcy gasped when she saw him pull back his hand and spotted the curved knife.

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-TWO

  “That went too easily,” Warrick said.

  Thorn grunted, his gaze on the sky. “Way too easily.”

  “I wish I could’ve spoken to Darcy and figured out what was wrong.”

  “Did you no’ see her eyes?”

  Warrick frowned as they crested a hill. “What about them?”

  Thorn cut him a dark look. “They were red-rimmed, War. She had been crying.”

  Crying?

  Warrick halted. “Why would she be crying? Because I went for a walk?”

  Thorn let out a loud sigh as he turned to face Warrick. “For all the things she said to you before we reached the Dragonwood. She didna want to leave, but she felt that she had no choice.”

  “She has a choice. If I tell Con she’s my mate, he willna touch her.”


  Thorn’s dark brows rose. “You might want to rethink that. Con considers her a threat, more so than Ulrik’s woman ever was. He’ll kill Darcy the first chance he gets. It’s why I didna suggest you keep her here. She’s better off far from Dreagan.”

  “Perhaps, but I’m no’ better off.” Warrick turned back around.

  “Ulrik needs her. Right?” Thorn asked worriedly.

  Warrick looked at Thorn. Without another word they started running back toward Darcy. Warrick would stand against Con if he had to for Darcy.

  He spotted her and Ulrik talking. At least they were still near. All Warrick had to do was make it back to Darcy and talk to her. Then he saw her yank her hand away from Ulrik and step back. It wasn’t until Warrick saw the blade in Ulrik’s hand that he bellowed in fury and shifted. He threw his protective magic around Darcy.

  But it was too late. Ulrik plunged the knife into Darcy’s stomach.

  Warrick’s roar shook the earth as his massive wings knocked down trees before he could tuck them against him. He was too close to the border to take to the skies. Warrick barreled through the trees with Thorn on his right side in dragon form as well.

  Ulrik looked at them with a smile before a Dark Fae appeared beside him and teleported him away.

  Warrick reached Darcy and shifted back into human form so he could lift her in his arms. Her eyes were closed and blood gushed from the wound. There was the barest of breaths coming from her, but it was growing shallower by the moment.

  “Nay,” Warrick said as he touched her face. “Darcy, open your eyes. Look at me, lass.”

  Her head lolled to the side.

  “You can no’ leave me,” he whispered, emotion tightening his throat.

  He could feel the life draining from her. In all his endless years as a Dragon King, there was only one other time he had felt so utterly helpless.

  “He’s fucking gone!” Thorn bellowed. “I’m going to kill him!”

  Warrick heard Thorn, but he couldn’t respond. He was too desolate, too wrecked to do more than hold Darcy. He hadn’t told her she was his mate, hadn’t told her how much he cared for her—how much he loved her.

  Why had he been so against taking a mate? She could’ve been under his protection this entire time. Had he taken her as his mate, Ulrik couldn’t have hurt her. She wouldn’t be bleeding out in his arms.

  “Move!” said a female voice who shoved at Warrick’s shoulder.

  He looked up and saw the faces, but it took a moment for them to register. He blinked at the Druids.

  “You need to step aside,” Aisley said from beside him. “We can help Darcy.”

  He looked down at Darcy and tightened his grip. “You’ll have to do it with me holding her. I’m no’ releasing her.”

  Warrick vaguely realized the Druids circled around him and joined hands. They began to chant, their magic filling the air. Warrick felt their magic touch him before shifting to Darcy.

  He opened the tear in her shirt to look at the wound and saw it begin to heal. Hope flourished inside him. This could work. The Druids could save her.

  He could have a second chance.

  No sooner had that thought gone through his mind than the wound opened back up and blood flowed quicker. Warrick covered the wound with his hand and tried to stop the flow of blood.

  He dropped his forehead against Darcy’s, because he knew he was losing her. He had been so against wanting a mate that fate was taking her from him before he ever had her.

  A large hand fell softly on his shoulder.

  Warrick looked up to see Con. “Get away from her. Ulrik did what you were going to.”

  Con didn’t say a word. He merely squatted beside them and put a hand on Darcy as his eyes closed. His face contorted for a moment. Then he opened his eyes and stood. “Dragon magic was used,” he said.

  Warrick looked from Con down to Darcy. He lifted his hand to see that the wound was closed with just a small pale scar to show what had happened.

  Darcy took a deep breath, but she didn’t open her eyes. Warrick’s throat clogged with emotion. He lifted her in his arms and stood. That’s when he saw not just the Warriors and Druids, but the Dragon Kings as well.

  Kellan gave him a nod, as did Guy and Tristan. Warrick held Darcy closer and started toward the cottage. He knew there were those who followed him, but he didn’t care. He could handle whatever came now that Darcy still lived.

  He shouldered his way into the cottage and lay her on the sofa before he covered her with a blanket. Then he turned and faced the others.

  Warrick’s gaze landed on Con first before moving to Thorn, Kellan, and Rhys. “Why did you save her?” Warrick demanded of Con.

  “Because I saw Ulrik plunge the blade into her.” Con’s black eyes glanced at Darcy, his lips flattening for a moment. “She was right. I let my hatred cloud my judgment.”

  “I doona like that she unbound Ulrik’s magic, but that’s all she did. She didna curse me or shoot Lily. That was all Ulrik’s doing,” Rhys said.

  Kellan nodded in agreement. “Denae reminded me that she was accused as well and had no involvement. She keeps telling that a person is innocent until proven guilty.”

  “Thank you,” Warrick said to them. “Though it might go a long way if you tell Darcy all of this yourselves.”

  Rhys smiled. “We’ll do better than that. Bring her back to the manor when she’s ready.”

  The three filed out of the cottage, leaving Thorn. Thorn looked at Darcy. “You’re verra lucky, War. You got a second chance to set things right. Darcy is your mate. If you let her go this time, you may no’ get another chance.”

  “I know. I doona plan to rest until she’s mine.”

  Thorn looked at him and winked. “I knew you’d come around.”

  As soon as Thorn left, Warrick looked about the cottage. “I’ve got one shot to convince her to be mine. It’s got to be perfect.”

  * * *

  Darcy woke to the sound of thunder and rain hitting glass. She opened her eyes to see the fire roaring. She sat up, the blanket falling from her as she looked around the cottage.

  Wait. What was she doing in the cottage? The last thing she remembered was talking to Ulrik and then the knife. Darcy looked down to see the dried blood and the tear in her shirt. She lifted her shirt, but there was no wound.

  A piece of paper floated to the ground from the arm of the sofa. Darcy bent and opened it, reading aloud. “‘Your bath is waiting.’”

  Darcy rose and walked around the sofa to the hallway. She found the bathroom and the huge oval copper pedestal tub sitting under a window.

  Steam rose from the water. Darcy glanced around, but still didn’t see anyone. She walked to the tub while removing her clothes. As she neared, she saw the rose petals floating in the water.

  On the other side of the tub was a tray set on a stool. There was a glass of champagne and a bucket of strawberries.

  Darcy stepped into the tub. She sighed when she sat down and leaned back, the water reaching all the way up to her neck. It felt heavenly, the heat seeping into her muscles to relax her.

  She sat there for several minutes savoring the warmth before she plucked a plump strawberry from the bucket. As she chewed the tasty berry, she wrapped her fingers around the champagne glass and brought it to her lips.

  Darcy had never tasted champagne before. The bubbles popped along her tongue before she swallowed. She loved the taste of the golden liquid, but she made sure to take small sips.

  After she drank half of her glass and ate several more strawberries, Darcy simply soaked in the tub and closed her eyes. The thunder was rumbling and the rain continued to pour, but she was warm and toasty.

  Only when her fingers began to wrinkle did she sit up. She saw something out of the corner of her eye and jerked her head to the window, but all she could see was rain.

  She rose from the water and reached for a towel. Darcy stepped out of the tub and dried off, keeping her eyes on the window.
No matter how hard she looked, she didn’t see anything.

  “Oh well,” she said to herself. “I must be seeing things.”

  An image of Ulrik flashed in her mind with him holding the knife. Darcy immediately closed her eyes and tried to think of anything else.

  She found herself imagining a dragon, a jade dragon.

  Darcy inhaled deeply and slowly released the breath. As she did, she opened her eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror.

  “What happened?” she asked herself.

  She recalled her conversation with Ulrik. She saw the dagger. She also remembered all too well the feeling of the blade cutting into her body.

  It had been … horrific.

  The agony had taken her breath, the pain exploding throughout her body in suffocating waves.

  And all the while, all she could think about was Warrick.

  Darcy turned away from the mirror and saw the cream robe hanging on a hook. She took the garment and slid it on, rubbing her hands along the plush dark fur that lined the inside of the robe before she belted it.

  She spent a few minutes trying to work out some of the tangles in her hair. Then she walked out, fully expecting to see Ulrik.

  But once more, she was alone.

  Darcy looked to the left where the living room and kitchen were. Then she turned to the right. There were three more rooms.

  She checked out the one nearest her and found a bedroom colored in a dark silver and pale gray. She moved to the room across the hall and discovered a massive bedroom with a king bed.

  A solid white comforter without any adornments covered the mattresses. There was a single accent pillow in a deep burgundy upon the bed. As she let her gaze wander the room, taking in the light tan walls and wide white trim, she spotted more burgundy throughout the room.

  Darcy then turned to the door between the two rooms. She gasped when she opened it and found a dressing room. An armoire stood off to the side nearly as tall as the ten-foot ceilings.

  There was a makeup vanity and stool, as well as a chaise longue in a soft cream. A large rug of burgundy covered the wood floors.

  Darcy walked into the room and touched each object as she inspected it. It was a woman’s dream. The perfect place to put shoes, clothes, scarves, and jewelry. Add in the makeup vanity, and she was in heaven.