Possessed by a Dark Warrior

by Heaton, Felicity

  Bleu shook his head, silently telling her that he would find his balance again. He just needed a moment. Gods, he needed a moment to breathe.

  An image of the silent forest in the Fifth Realm filled his mind, called to him to return to it as he had so many times, finding peace in the solitude and beauty of the place. He fought for the strength to push away from that urge, aware that it had served a purpose far different from the one he had believed.

  It had become his place to hide whenever things had become too intense for him, too painful to handle.

  He had buried himself in nature, craving the soothing touch of her, to rid himself of the cold emptiness that had invaded his very soul.

  The loneliness.

  Vail canted his head, causing strands of his wild blue-black hair to drop and brush his brow, his violet eyes pinned on Fuery.

  His second in command.

  His chest heaved with each deep breath he drew, stretching the scales of his armour, and his fingers curled into claws at his sides.

  His eyes darkened dangerously.

  Bleu waited for him to explode. If seeing Fuery again had caused Bleu shock, even when he had crossed paths with the male just months ago, then he couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Vail, and on today of all days.

  They both had awful timing.

  Fuery lifted his head again, his face twisted in pain, a broken male that Bleu wasn’t sure was quite with the world. The darkness was strong in him, his tainted soul showing in his black eyes, barely a sliver of violet remaining in them.

  Vail stepped towards him.

  Bleu held his breath, convinced that Vail was about to turn violent because of the day they had all chosen to invade his life.

  Fuery clawed at the ground. Even Bleu could see how shattered he was, only a fragment of the male he had once been, and that he was adrift, a lost little thing floating on an endless sea of pain.

  Suffering.

  Gods, he was about to suffer a lot more.

  Vail stopped right in front of Fuery, slowly crouched and raised his right hand.

  Not in a vicious strike, but in a soft touch, a gentle cupping of Fuery’s ashen cheek in his palm.

  Bleu’s breath rushed from him and he could only stare at Vail and Fuery, marvelling at how different Vail was as the corners of his lips pulled into a very strained and forced smile. He was trying to master the darkness inside him, the hunger that Bleu knew had to be filling him, urging him to lash out at those who might hurt him and his mate. Bleu could see it all in his eyes as the black fought the violet, the darkness pushing for control.

  He was trying to be a better male.

  Rosalind’s smile said it all as she watched him interacting with Fuery.

  “I am glad you are alive,” Vail whispered in a low voice, one filled with a tone meant to be calming and soothing. “But you are not well.”

  Fuery closed his eyes, hiding his black irises, and lowered his head. Bleu had been shocked by the extent of the darkness in him, the hold it had on him, when he had met Fuery again in the nightclub. He had seen it control Fuery, driving him into a rage, and had seen another elf, Hartt, bring him back from the abyss.

  Not the damned edge, but the black abyss itself.

  Fuery was more than tainted.

  He was lost.

  They had squads who hunted his kind and dealt with them in the only way the kingdom condoned.

  Killing them.

  The tainted were viewed as black marks on the name of the elves, spoken about in fearful whispers among the population and used as a constant reminder to do good and hold back the seed of darkness that lived within the souls of all elves.

  No one spoke of the lost.

  No one was brave enough.

  “This garden seems to work miracles,” Vail continued and lifted Fuery’s head, silently commanding the male to look at him. Fuery’s near-black eyes darted between his and he swallowed hard, a look on his face that was somewhere between imploring and astonished, as if Fuery craved Vail’s attention and affection but couldn’t believe he was being given it or deserved it. “It has given me back much of my light… it holds back the darkness for me. Perhaps it might do the same for you?”

  Fuery looked as if he might pass out.

  Bleu willed the poor bastard to breathe, to just open himself up and believe that Vail wanted to help him, accepting it as real.

  Vail looked over his shoulder at Rosalind, seeking her permission.

  Bleu wanted to bite out a warning to her.

  Fuery was dangerous and Bleu didn’t think there was any way of bringing him back to the light. He was too far gone. Vail was tainted by darkness, but not to this degree. Bleu could see the hope in Vail’s eyes though, the need to believe that it was possible to completely erase the black stains from an elf’s soul. He needed to help Fuery, and not only because he probably felt responsible for what had happened to him. He needed it because it would help him too. It would strengthen his belief that he could be saved.

  “We have room for a guest,” Rosalind said with a steady soft smile. “But we really must speak with Bleu first. Remember?”

  Vail looked lost, as if he had forgotten all about Bleu, which went down about as well as a mug of hydra toxin. He schooled his expression when the elf male looked his way, hiding his irritation from him.

  The male nodded and rose to his feet.

  Fuery immediately grasped hold of his left leg, clinging to it.

  Vail reached down and stroked his fingers through Fuery’s long hair, and Bleu couldn’t help but wonder how it was all going to end. Fuery was insane, madder than Vail had ever been. If Vail managed to redeem him, to bring him back from the darkness even only enough to bring just a touch more violet back to his eyes, it would be a miracle.

  “Don’t linger too long, Vail.” Rosalind gestured towards the house after her mate acknowledged her with a brief glance in her direction and started towards it.

  Bleu was swift to follow her and caught her before she reached the arched wooden door at the rear of the property.

  “It is unwise to have a tainted elf in your home,” he said.

  She smiled gently at him, warmth in her bright blue eyes as she pushed the door open. “I know that, but Vail needs him here. He needs company he trusts and he does get horribly bored when I have to work. It’ll be good for him.”

  She made Fuery sound like a damned pet, not the violent assassin Bleu had seen hungering to kill both friend and foe.

  “I do not think it will be good for you at all. Fuery is dangerous,” Bleu muttered, stooped and followed her into the small kitchen of her home, careful to avoid banging his head on the dark wooden beams that ran across the low pale ceiling.

  Rosalind gazed out of the leaded window at her mate, her smile growing wider. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can handle the elf, if I have to… but I don’t think I will. Vail won’t let anyone hurt me.”

  He had to concede that point. Vail would probably kill Fuery if he tried to harm Rosalind. It didn’t mean she was safe though. Fuery was as old as Vail, and just as powerful. Plus, he had spent the past gods knew how long as an assassin. There was a chance that Fuery might win if they fought.

  Bleu rolled his right shoulder in a shrug that felt anything but casual and those damned feelings he tried to let run off his back refused to do just that.

  He looked away from her. “Be careful anyway.”

  He felt her gaze on him, piercing and powerful, as if she could look right down to his soul with just a glance, and ignored her as he tried to tamp down his unruly emotions. He wasn’t in the habit of showing anyone he cared, not anymore, but everything was piling up on his shoulders and it was getting more difficult to let it all just roll off him as he usually did, not letting it sink below the surface of his skin.

  It all became too much, his feelings colliding within him, mingled with the knowing looks that both Loren and Rosalind had given him, ones that drew him close to admitting things
that were best kept unspoken and unacknowledged.

  He turned his thoughts to the female dragon and the turbulent flow of emotions quickly calmed, becoming as still as a millpond within him and restoring his focus.

  On the only thing that mattered to him.

  His mission.

  CHAPTER 7

  The back door to Bleu’s left opened and Vail stalked in, swiftly placing himself between him and Rosalind. Was Vail always going to treat him with mistrust now? It wasn’t their chequered past that had the elf male wary around him, firmly on the edge, either. It was Rosalind’s fault. She had stamped an image of them together on Vail’s mind during their courtship, branding Bleu as a rival during a time when Vail had been ruled by his instincts as her fated male. Vail was never going to trust him again.

  “Tea?” Rosalind said, her voice light and airy in the thick heavy silence.

  He shook his head at the same time as Vail. She muttered something under her breath and stomped off, heading towards the centre of the cottage. Bleu waited for Vail to follow her before daring to move. He had been to the cottage before so he knew the way to her drawing room but decided it was best he followed close on Vail’s heels so the male knew where he was.

  Vail ducked under the doorframe in the left wall of the narrow hallway that ended at the front door. Bleu followed him inside, his gaze immediately running over the familiar room. It was as messy as ever, with books stacked everywhere and on everything besides the green velvet armchairs that nestled around the inglenook fireplace to his left.

  Rosalind arranged her black dress and sat on the one with its back to the leaded window. The colourful roses continued to sway in the breeze, the dazzling sunlight bathing them in life, and he itched to be outside again, immersed in nature. An unsettling sensation slithered over his skin beneath his armour and he looked across at Vail to find the male glaring at him again, his eyes narrowed and verging on black.

  “Sit,” Vail snapped and Rosalind chastised him with a frown of her own.

  He glanced at her and his face lost all darkness, and Bleu could only marvel at the extent of her effect on him. But then, that seemed to be a problem among mated males.

  All the ones Bleu knew acted as if they’d had their balls cut off when their female was upset with them.

  All the more reason to remain free of a bond.

  He liked his balls the way they were.

  “Take a seat,” Rosalind said without taking her eyes off her mate and Bleu guessed the offer was aimed at him, not Vail.

  Vail remained standing and folded his arms across his chest as Bleu took the armchair opposite Rosalind and knocked a small bundle of books over with his boot, scattering them across the grey slate floor. Vail’s expression darkened again.

  “Never mind.” Rosalind got off her chair, crouched and stacked the books. She looked back at Vail. “See. No harm done.”

  Vail didn’t look convinced.

  Why hadn’t she used her magic? When Bleu had been here before, she had moved furniture with it. It would have been easy for her to wave a hand and restack the books.

  It dawned on him that Vail was the reason. He had a penchant for killing witches, and Bleu had seen magic send him off the deep end and into a black rage before, unleashing the darkness within him. He recalled what Rosalind had said about Vail getting bored when she had to work.

  Bored because he stayed away from her when she was using magic, occupying himself elsewhere, beyond the sphere her power would taint.

  Rosalind walked over to a worn leather chaise longue below the window and started dragging it towards the fireplace. Vail went to her, gently removed her hands from it, and pulled it for her, effortlessly moving it into place with the curved armrest closest to her chair. He sat down on it and glared at Bleu again.

  Bleu took it as a cue to speak. “I need your help tracking the sword. I need to use your connection to it to locate it.”

  Vail looked troubled and shifted his gaze to Rosalind. She sat beside him and placed her hand on his right knee, and the slender male dropped his focus to it, his expression turning lost again.

  No, not lost.

  Afraid.

  He feared what Bleu was asking him to do.

  Why?

  Vail swallowed hard and closed his violet eyes, turning his noble profile to Bleu and reminding him just how alike he and Loren looked. “My bond with the sword is strong because of my blood, but it is weak in this realm.”

  There was an edge to those words, a tremor that spoke of the fear Bleu had noticed.

  “Perhaps it would be better to ask—” Vail cut himself off and turned his face completely towards Rosalind, and she squeezed his knee.

  “Loren sent Bleu here, and that means he needs your help. No one is forcing you to do this, Vail. If you’re not comfortable, you can say so.” Rosalind smiled at her mate as he opened his eyes, leaned back against the couch with a weary sigh and looked into hers, a soft edge to his that spoke of love so deep that Bleu wanted to retch again. Mates. He suppressed a shudder. Gods forbid he ever found his.

  The tiny voice in the pit of his soul whispered that he wanted to find her.

  Hadn’t he been searching for her for millennia?

  Waiting for her for centuries?

  Hunting for her?

  He frowned at that and shoved the thought aside, refocusing his attention on Vail and willing the male to agree to help him.

  “I have tracked the one who stole the sword back to her realm of dragons but I need a location, somewhere to look. The realms are vast.” Bleu leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, feeling the rippled surface of his armour pressing into them as it gave beneath the pressure. “If I could uncover her location, I am certain I will be able to retrieve the sword for your brother.”

  Vail’s expression grew softer, warmer still, and Bleu felt like a bastard for playing on his love of Loren to convince him to agree to help him. Loren would throw him in the cells, or worse, if Vail hurt himself trying to sense the sword’s location, but Vail was their best shot, as Loren knew, and Bleu couldn’t head into the dragon realm without a clue about where to search for the sword.

  Not only would it take him months to scour the land, but he would probably end up as roasted elf, together with the rest of his team. That much questioning of dragons was bound to stir some rage somewhere along the line. He wanted to keep the risk to a minimum, and that meant having a good starting point, or better still, Vail being able to tell him a location within a short distance of the blade.

  “Will you help me?” Bleu searched Vail’s rich violet eyes as they swung his way and waited with bated breath.

  The darkness in them pushed, a black tide that surged from the edges of his irises towards his pupils, driving the purple back. He was playing with fire, and the part of him that would always hate Vail enjoyed seeing the male suffering, having to battle the darkness his vicious acts had awoken in him.

  Bleu eased back in his chair, disgust at himself swift to rush through him on the heels of that feeling, and tried to look at Vail in a better light, the same golden shiny one that Loren used to wash away the black shadows cast by Vail’s sins.

  He wasn’t surprised when it didn’t work for him.

  Vail slowly nodded, and, holy fuck, Bleu actually witnessed a little glow of shiny light fall on the male, enough that he actually thought good of him for the first time in what felt like forever.

  “I’ll help.” Rosalind tucked into the corner of the chaise longue, the leather creaking under her slender weight as she positioned herself near the armrest and patted her knee.

  Vail obediently swung his legs up and laid back, resting his head on her thighs and folding his arms across his stomach. His booted feet hung off the end of the seat, soles resting on the floor. At six-feet-six, an inch taller than Bleu, his feet probably would have fallen off the end even if he’d had his head resting on the arm of the chaise longue.

  The male looked up at Rosalind, who
gazed down at him, her blue eyes soft and filled with tenderness. She gently brushed the blue-black strands of her mate’s hair from his forehead, the action seeming to soothe him as if she had the touch of nature herself, and for a flicker of time, a split-second in which his guard fell, Bleu envied the bastard.

  He quickly shut down that feeling and any associated with it, stopping them before they could surface and wreak havoc on him. He wasn’t interested in a mate. He had a mission, a purpose, and he was going to fulfil it.

  Vail closed his eyes, exhaled slowly and sank against the seat, his entire body visibly relaxing into it.

  “Just focus,” Rosalind whispered and continued to stroke his brow, his hair, and even teased the pointed tips of his ears.

  Bleu wasn’t sure how that was going to help him relax and focus. Just the thought of a female teasing his ears was enough to have his blood pounding and all rushing south.

  Vail didn’t seem to have that problem as his mate fussed over him, speaking in a low gentle voice, coaxing him into a sedated state.

  Was it magic she was weaving with her voice and touch? A form of a spell that went undetected by her mate?

  It seemed as if it was as emotions flickered across Vail’s face, turning it soft one moment and twisting it into darkness the next. Whenever it turned vicious, Rosalind soothed him and he relaxed again.

  Sank deeper under her spell.

  Bleu was beginning to feel sedated himself when Vail finally broke the silence, speaking in their native tongue.

  “The dragon realm,” he murmured and then his voice grew louder and clearer, as if affected by his connection with the sword as it strengthened. “Beyond its borders… I feel it. Waiting. Calling to me. Screaming for me.”

  Vail’s breathing deepened and his hands twitched against his stomach, claws scraping over his armour. Rosalind’s free hand came down on them, clasping them and stopping them before they could slice through the black scales. Elf armour was only weak against the same material. It was wise of Rosalind to stop her mate, not only because he could hurt himself, but because in the act of cutting himself with his own claws he would spill blood and tainted elves were deeply affected by the scent of blood.