Forbidden Fate (Sisters of Danu Book 1)

by Mia Pride

  “I’m going to remove my hand now, Gwynn. If you scream, I will find a way to make you scream louder. Do you understand?” She nodded dramatically, so he could see her acquiesce to him and tears started to run down the sides of her face, soaking into her hairline. “Shhhh. Don’t cry, mo chroí. Everything is alright now. You are mine again. I don’t know what lies Liam has told you, but I assure you that we are very much still married.” He removed his hand and leaned down to her, kissing the salty tears from the side of her face. He stared at her terrified green eyes, now knowing they were the eyes of a Sister of Danu, and he was overcome with an intense desire to claim her as his once again, to prove that her fate was entwined with his own. The opportunity to physically dominate a woman descended from the gods was too tempting to resist.

  He came down on her mouth hard, cracking his teeth against hers as he forcefully captured her tongue. She moaned in pain, but Baine returned a moan of pleasure as he released her mouth. Keeping her promise, Gwynneth did not scream. She closed her eyes and silently sobbed as she felt his tongue slide across her breast. Sharp teeth bit down into her soft flesh, breaking the skin as he had in her memory, yet the physical pain was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.

  Everything was a blur and she was too disoriented to fight back. She felt as if her entire body was numb from the news of Liam’s death. Let Baine kill her; it was far better to die, than to live as his wife again. Warm blood oozed from his throbbing bite mark and she clamped down on her lower lip to keep the gut wrenching sobs from escaping as he moved over to her other breast.

  An imagine of Liam lying dead in the forest permeated within her mind and a pain unlike anything she had ever felt before came crashing down upon her like the high tides of the ocean, pulling her back forcefully and then crashing again, suffocating her rhythmically. Her entire body was shaking as she covered her face with her hands in an attempt to further stifle her cries. She could feel Baine’s tongue traveling over her body, lower, circling her belly button. Gwynneth just kept sobbing silently into her hands.

  Feeling Baine’s hands as they grabbed on to her knees, she did not fight him as he pulled them apart, opening her legs to him. Something about his forceful touch triggered a synapses in her brain, releasing years’ worth of repressed memories all at once, flooding her mind with painful images that caused little explosions in her head as each memory floated to the surface.

  Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and she brought her hands up to her temples, pressing her fingertips into the throbbing pain, hoping to relieve the pounding pressure as each memory fought its way back to her present.

  Memory after memory invaded her mind. Liam meeting her on top of their favorite hill with a small yellow wild flower in his hand, his dimpled smile flashing as she approached. His face faded away quickly and was replaced by Baine’s. He was holding her hand in front of her father, promising to take good care of her. That memory drifted away just as fast as it came and a new one sparked in her mind. Baine was tying her to the bedpost and tearing off her clothes as he smacked her across the face, reprimanding her for another false offense. The next few memories were much the same, filled with Baine’s stinging hand and his sexual violations.

  One memory floated up on top and popped like a bubble rising to the surface as it made Gwynneth’s head explode with the impact. Baine was holding her hand much tighter than necessary as he walked around the village with her, squeezing her in a crushing grip. Gwynneth glanced ahead and saw Liam staring at them as they walked past, the look of a broken man crossing his face. A beautiful ebony-haired lass was standing next to Liam, and she grabbed his hand possessively as she sent a spiteful glare in Gwynneth’s direction. Baine paraded Gwynneth cruelly in front of Liam, pulling her against his body as he tipped her head back and forced his tongue into her mouth while Liam scowled and looked way. She was nothing but bait to Baine, even in his rare moments of affection.

  Gwynneth pulled her hair with both hands and screamed. The pressure in her head was as unbearable as that final memory rupturing to the surface, destroying her from the inside out. The memories enraged her, but none more than the last. Seeing that beautiful lass grab Liam’s hand was more painful than any of Baine’s offenses. She could feel the resentment boil into rage within her blood. For the first time in her life, she would rather die trying to fight against Baine, than sit back like a frightened child.

  Forcing her eyes open, she looked down and saw Baine frantically untying the string on his trousers. Kneeling between her thighs, he pulled them down to his knees, exposing himself fully. She saw anticipation spread across his face as he pressed himself against her core. She would wait until he was the most vulnerable, too aroused to suspect her attack. Though her mind was racing with more emotions than she could process in the moment, she could see his every movement as if time had slowed, allowing her ample time to react at the precise moment. Just as he arched his hips back, preparing to thrust forward and forcefully enter her, Gwynneth gathered up all her fear-induced strength and rammed her knee into his gut.

  All the air left Baine’s body in a whoosh with a grunt of pain and Gwynneth started to scramble to her feet. Keeping his balance on his knees, he reached out and grabbed her ankle, pulling her back down on her back with a bang. Gwynneth twisted her body while he had a firm grip on her ankle and flipped herself onto her stomach. Her free leg kicked out as hard as it could, trying to make contact with any part of his body. Missing entirely, her leg swung at the air and landed back down on the ground with a painful thud.

  Panting with rage and still spinning from the ale, Gwynneth thrashed her naked body frantically, trying to escape Baine’s hold on her. “Never again, Baine!” She shouted while flailing her legs, “I’m not yours anymore. You will not take me!”

  The feeling of pride Gwynneth felt at that moment quickly vanished as her unfortunate reality came into focus. He had successfully grabbed both of her legs and was dragging her on her belly over to the table. She could hear him grunting with the strain as she continued to thrash about in his grip. She had not escaped his advances, only succeeded in adding to his rage. Gwynneth steeled herself for the moments ahead. Baine thrived off her fight. She had a flashback of his words from her nightmare, “I like the struggle Gwynn. It keeps things interesting.”

  She had always fought him, and she had always lost. He was twice her size and just as stubborn. The more she fought his advances, the more aggressively he sought to take her body. With another grunt, Baine reached down to grip her left arm and tugged her up to a standing position.

  He jerked her head back and whispered through gritted teeth, “Will you never learn Gwynneth? I like the fight. I’ve never wanted you more.” He stuck his tongue in her ear, licking around the rim of her lobe. “I will be as gentle as possible, for the babe’s sake.”

  She could not physically hurt him with the strength of her body, but she could emotionally destroy him with the truth. Just as she was about to shout that she had lost their child, she decided to keep silent. Baine’s belief that she was still carrying his child was, quite possibly, her only chance at surviving his attack. He would not hesitate to hurt her, but he would not kill her, not with his unborn child secure within her womb.

  She stayed silent as Baine pushed her upper body forward onto the table top, her breasts crushed painfully against its surface by the pressure of his hand on her back. Using his knees, he forced hers legs apart, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. Her breath was trapped in her lungs, wanting to escape the crushing weight of his strength. “I told you that I would have you, Gwynneth. You are mine.”

  Baine’s erection pulsed against her thigh as he forcibly pushed two fingers into her core. She struggled with all her might, trying to escape his grasp and a scream rattled out of her lungs like an explosion, shaking her entire body.

  There was a loud crack, followed by a bang, making Gwynneth jump out of her skin. It sounded like wood splintering and a door crashing against the wall.
A sudden breeze enveloped the home, causing what was left of the low burning fire to flicker out of the corner of her eyes. Baine quickly pulled his fingers away, but did not loosen his grip on her back. Her face was pushed into the table and she was incapable of turning toward the commotion. “Bastard! Get your filthy hands off of her, Baine.” A voice deep with warning filled the room and heavy booted footsteps came closer. Was that the voice of…nay. It couldn’t be. But her heart began to pound double time with the possibility of rescue.

  “Nay. I don’t believe I will.” Baine increased the pressure on Gwynneth’s back even more as he shifted and pulled something out of his boot. As he removed it, she could see the object out of the corner of her eye. It was a long dagger, smooth and reflective in the dying light of the fire. “She is mine. Mine!” Baine growled as he thrust his hips hard into Gwynneth’s exposed backside, pushing her thighs into the wooden table and cutting into her flesh. She hissed in pain, but refused to scream.

  The footsteps came closer and Baine let out a grunt of warning. “Ah. I see you have come prepared for battle,” Baine sneered as he looked Liam up and down, focusing on Liam’s painted bare chest and the sword sheathed at his side. “Come any closer, Liam, and I will gut her.” The cold iron blade was suddenly pressed firmly against her exposed neck. “I am shocked that, after all this time, and with my babe growing within her womb, you would still have such little respect for my property.”

  Gwynneth forgot about the blade against her throat at the mention of his name. “LIAM!” Gwynneth screamed with mingled desperation and hope. “You’re alive?” tears stung her eyes and she yearned to see his face, to prove that it was true. Even before her relief could take root, fear for his safety pulsed through her veins and panic consumed her. “Stop, Liam! Please! He won’t kill me, not with the babe…”

  Liam stopped in his tracks and his brows rose high in confusion. He could hear the warning in her voice, the implication to keep their secret hidden. “She is not your wife anymore, Baine. Take your hands off of her.” His voice was calm and she heard him take another step forward as Baine pressed the dagger deeper into her flesh.

  “Liam, stop!” More tears streamed down her face, spilling onto the table’s surface. The thought of losing him again was unbearable and her whole body was tense with the knowledge that she had no control over either man. She quickly realized that Liam had not acknowledged her at all. Was he still so angry with her? Why had he come back? These questions were important to her, but they would have to wait. For now, all she could do was wait in silence, forcibly bent over a table with her body fully exposed and a dagger to her throat.

  Baine tugged his trousers loosely over his hips to cover himself, then wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled hard, forcing her to stand up while he continued to hold the dagger up to her throat. He whirred her around, pressing her back into him and forcing her to stand naked before Liam as a trickle of blood ran down her throat. Dry blood streaks ran down her breast and an obvious bite mark marred the tender flesh. Bruising had already begun on her ribs and thighs from the force of the table.

  Gwynneth gasped at the sight of Liam. Gone was the gentle man she had come to know with his simple linen tunic and dimpled smile. Before her was a hard man, a man prepared to fight, and to kill, if necessary. He had transformed into the trained warrior he had always been, willing to fight to the death. His chest was bare, his muscular physique painted with blue war paint in spiral patterns starting at the top left side of his chest and spreading down and across his ribs. A band of leather was tightly wrapped around his left bicep and a huge iron sword with a jagged blade sat sheathed in a leather belt tied around his waist. Two rubies glittered in the eye sockets of a carved skull on the hilt, winking at Gwynneth in the dim light of the dying fire.

  Adorning his head was an impressively shiny bronze helm, the hammer marks in the metal rippling over the surface as two large horns protruded from the top, adding to his already unusual height. The combination of paint and horns made him appear more beast than man, and Gwynneth suddenly understood how prepared Liam was to battle in order to save her. Her knees buckled at the intimidating sight of him. How could this giant warrior be the same man who had held her so many nights with such delicate care? But there was nothing delicate about the man who stood before them now, hand on hilt with blazing blue eyes boring into Baine with a look that spoke of lifelong hatred and revenge.

  Liam caught the look of mixed wonder and fear in Gwynneth’s eyes, but refusing to let his emotions cloud his judgment, he diverted his gaze and stared through Gwynneth completely. He walked away, toward the other side of the room and grabbed a fur pelt from the bed. “You’ve made your property bleed.” Liam said in a cold voice, no emotion showing on his face. “Would you really expose the mother of your child to me like this?” He put the fur out for Baine to grab.

  “Suddenly shy, Liam?”

  “This isn’t about me, Baine. Take the fur.” Still ignoring Gwynneth’s shivering body and wide-eyed appraisal, Liam concentrated all of his attention on Baine and the knife at Gwynn’s throat. If he could get Baine to let his guard down, even slightly, he could remove the dagger with lightning speed. He would not draw his sword just yet. That may only provoke Baine more. Nay, this required composure and subtly. His pulse was pounding faster than ever before and he could barely breathe with the panic, but he kept still, never shifting his eyes off Baine, never flinching at the blood trickling down Gwynneth’s throat and slowly creeping down between her breasts.

  “I don’t want her, Baine. That was long ago. I was over her the moment she married you. I just want you to cover her up. Show the lady some respect.” He shoved the fur toward Baine again.

  Baine’s lips twisted in confusion as his brows lowered and creased. That confession was the very last thing he ever expected to hear out of the mouth of Liam Mac Cuill. He thought for a moment about his years with Gwynneth, and it occurred to him that, indeed, Liam had never once tried to take her back. He remembered seeing Liam at the gathering hall with Fiona O’ Beirne on his lap. His lips curled up and he let out a small chuckle, “See that Gwynneth? You were lucky to have me as your husband all along. He would have tired of you even faster than I did. Besides,” a twinkle glimmered in his eye, knowing that his next words would cut Gwynneth deeper than the blade he held to her throat, “he has Fiona to warm his bed at night. Do you not, Liam?”

  Liam cursed inwardly, knowing Baine was trying to call his bluff. He heard a strangled sob escape from Gwynneth at the pain of those words, but if he denied his relationship with Fiona to avoid hurting Gwynn, it would prove he still loved her. Besides, it was the truth and Liam knew he would pay the price for it later. Denying it would only add to his future troubles.

  Liam nodded in affirmation. “Aye, that I do.” He would not look at Gwynneth. He would not let Baine see how much hurting Gwynn affected him. Any glance at Gwynneth’s broken face, tears streaming down with the pain of his rejection, would surely give him away. Right now, for Gwynneth’s safety, Baine needed to believe that Liam was not completely in love with the shaking, terrified woman before him. Keeping his hand steady, he took a step forward and kept the fur held out to Baine.

  Baine could not tell whether Liam was playing mind tricks, or if he had been wrong about Liam’s lust for his wife all along. Not sure what else to do, and finally noticing that he had slightly cut the dagger into Gwynneth’s flesh, Baine reflexively dropped the knife to his side and put out the other hand to grab the fur. “Gwynn! I’m sorry, mo chroí…”

  Baine wrapped the fur around her battered body as she stared straight ahead, green eyes blazing at Liam, silent tears rolling down her face. Luckily the unintentional cut to her throat was small, the blood already coagulating. Baine reacted as a concerned husband, once again, looking around the room for a way to clean the blood.

  It amazed Liam to see how fast Baine switched from a predator to a nurturer, but he didn’t have time to solve the mysteries of Baine’
s demented behavior. Reacting with the reflexes and instincts of an animal protecting its young, Liam kicked out his powerful leg and struck Baine in the gut with full force. The dagger clattered to the ground as Baine fell backward, hitting the back of his head on the table on the way down. Liam stepped forward and shoved Gwynneth forcefully out of the way, making sure she landed on the bed as he bent over to grab the dagger.

  Baine scrambled to his feet, holding his head and wincing at the blood on his fingers from the small vertical split in his scalp. Just as he was about to lunge at Liam, two shadows, one large and one much smaller, appeared outside the door, catching the corner of Baine’s vision. He stopped in mid-step and waited to see who was coming. Hearing shuffling outside the open door frame, Liam turned his body with Baine’s dagger in one hand and the other on the hilt of his sword.

  Abigael stumbled through the doorway, as if shoved forcefully from behind. She had no obvious injuries to her face, but her grey hair was half torn from her usually tidy bun and her long green tunic had a hole at the knee, indicating she had fallen at some point in the night.

  Just as she stepped forward, a large man walked in behind her, his right hand wrapped around the back of her neck, escorting her in like a prisoner in his grasp. He had a dark brown hood pulled low over his head, casting a deep shadow over his face that made him unidentifiable to Gwynneth or Liam.

  Abigael did not look afraid. On the contrary, she appeared to be perfectly calm as her soft blue eyes looked straight ahead at the scene, taking in the sight of Liam ready to grapple with Baine, dressed as a fierce warrior in the center of her now disheveled home. Gwynneth starred in horror from the bed, wrapped in nothing but the fur, which barely protected her modesty.