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Burn for Me (Edanholme Book 1)

Page 5

by Catherine Fitzpatrick


  eyelids. The room came into sharp focus, dove grey walls and pale yellow curtains billowing in

  the morning breeze. The body atop him stirred with a wispy sigh. Iscatya….

  He exhaled sharply to run his fingers along the long line of her body with no clarity of thought.

  Mmmm…. Her purr sent his pulse into overdrive. Tentatively he reached to lift a strand of

  red tinted hair covering her face. The lock wrapped around his wrist in a silken handcuff.

  At the sensory touch of her hair vivid scenes of molten lava and frigid winds clashed in his head.

  He felt his life force shrivel as all contact to the earth was severed. Body bucking with the need

  for oxygen, every muscle locked down in a spasm of tortuous pain.

  Lost in remembered torment a voice called to him, pleading for him to relax. Soothing hands

  brushed his skin, reminding his lungs how to breathe.

  “Iscatya…?” Drusal could barely speak. The tendons in his neck were stretched tight as he

  dragged in lungful after lungful of summer scented air.

  Woken violently, Cat struggled to hold onto any semblance of calm. Was she going to lose him

  all over again? This was so unfair. When she fell asleep he was recovering the earth element,

  his body responding to the flowers and her warmth. Aftershock….?

  Like the aftershock of an earthquake, Drusal was experiencing the pain and disorientation she

  had invoked in a milder form. All she had to do was lead him out of it.

  Easier said than done, this time he was conscious and fighting back. Gritting her teeth Cat

  straddled his torso hands stroking the muscled planes of a wide chest. The gentle rhythm

  coaxed his heart to slow infinitesimally, not enough for her peace of mind. Fearing that he

  would go into shock, she took a hold of mother earth in the same way she had reached for

  the planets last night, pulsing the mother of all into his heart. A little tardy, fear supplied the

  answer she needed to restore calm to a struggling life force.

  Drusal’s wild struggle ceased, pearlescent eyes opened to stare blindly at her. “Iscatya…”

  He breathed out her name. His aura became one with the scent of summer.

  Cat slumped boneless onto his chest nearly as drained in spirit as he was. Resting her chin on

  crossed arms her breathing slowed to match his.

  “Cat… Please call me Cat. Iscatya is way too formal when waking up in the same bed.”

  Her smile was hesitant in the face of the destruction she had so very nearly caused. Rolling

  to the far side of the bed, Cat waited silently for Drusal to accept or reject her peace offering.

  He must be livid that she had humiliated, and come close to killing him in brushing off an

  attempt to seduce her. The wait was tense watching his futile attempts to sit up.

  “No, lie still…” Reaching out she brushed her fingers over his instep, applying a calming wash

  to his skin. Under her trailing fingers his skin glowed faintly with the same pale green

  luminescence she had seen the night before.

  “Cat…” Drusal experimented with the single syllable, relaxing into the familiar trail of gentle

  fingers on his skin. Sinking into the unaccustomed comfort of a soft mattress he raised his

  eyelids lazily. The human female with magical hands smiled at him. The radiance of her life

  force lifted plain features to a near semblance of Sidhe. Sulphur and biting chill assaulted his

  body, a bitter echo of death clawing painfully at his aura. Teeth clenched in agony, Drusal

  admitted to himself that what he saw was false. She was no human, but Fae and dangerous.

  If he tied himself to her as mate, she could help him, if a vicious witch could be persuaded to.

  Drusal gave her an answering smile of equal radiance. Pearlescent eyes streaked with copper

  swirls registered the surprise on her face. The female had expected him to lash out at her,

  and rightly so for she had diminished his powers mightily. This inelegant hybrid was capable

  of real combat with the Queen.

  He would pander to her whims, learn her secrets. Use her as a weapon to usurp Istirina.

  In doing so, he would gain a female to feed a growing need for a mate, to sow with his seed.

  The mating urge crashed upon him unannounced, an unwelcome hunger and disastrously

  inappropriate craving for a witch in human skin.

  Cat’s heart skipped a beat at the stunning smile Drusal gave her. Had the attack wiped out

  his memory? She would be as angry as all hell if her life hung in the balance, due to a child

  playing with forces they should have left well alone. Scepticism and distrust of his apparent

  friendliness warred with the melting of a battered heart. Cat wanted him badly, but not

  badly enough to risk slavery. Rising from the bed, her shorts and top exposing too much skin

  to feel comfortable under scrutiny, she grabbed at a white cotton shirt. Slipping her arms into

  the sleeves she twisted long hair into a thick braid, heading for the door.

  “Cat.” He drawled out the name, extending the single syllable on a bass growl.

  Looking back over her shoulder Cat let her gaze travel the expanse of desirable flesh.

  The colour was improving, more translucent, definitely more of the green undertone.

  Phillipe had clothes in the dressing room. Cat had to cover up so much skin or succumb to

  base sexual need. A need her body had been fighting since the second she had straddled

  Drusal’s torso. Cheeks flaming with the blush of arousal, she daren’t turn to face a deeply

  penetrating stare. “What…?” She demanded in a throaty snarl.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Thank you…” The softness of his whisper stunned her. Twirling round regardless of the

  desire to caress skin so soft it whispered under her fingers like the finest silk, Cat faced her

  intended mate with what she thought was bland indifference.

  “For what…?” She snapped unsure where the conversation was going.

  Drusal was well aware of her arousal, he would be less than a human not to. Now was not

  the time for his intended seduction, now was the time to learn. Learn more of this hell-cat

  in human guise who had tortured his body and bewitched his heart. No…

  That was not his thought. Was she playing with him still? Using dark arts to steal his will?

  “Thank you for bringing me back.” Using a sliver of glamour his skin glowed with the palest

  of silver frost. “You could have let me die.”

  Pearlescent grey eyes scanned the delicate contours of Cat’s face, detecting the hint of tears

  shimmering on the edge of sooty black lashes.

  “No I couldn’t….” Choking back a sob she left the room in a rush.

  Sinking back on the bed Drusal made plans. Istirina would have to know that Iscatya had

  defended herself when under attack, but not the means her Granddaughter had employed.

  If the Queen knew how powerful her heir had become, she would kill her without remorse

  to maintain domination of the Court. A smug smile curved his lips, control the witch, he

  controlled the SIdhe. His father would be avenged at last, as would the countless souls who

  had fled the Court in fear for their lives. The one problem that fazed him was the witch herself.

  How could he control a female who stripped him of life force in a breath? That she gave him

  back that life, was a weakness he was more than ready to exploit.

  Unaware of Drusal’s scheming to control her life, Cat made breakfast enough to feed a horde

  of Noble Sidhe. Bal
ancing the laden tray carefully, she returned to the scene of her crime.

  In the eyes of the Sidhe an attack on the essence of Fae was the direst of crimes, punishable

  by death, another compelling reason, never to go visit Queen Grandmother at home.

  Cat concentrated on food, cereals, fruit, milk and honey. It had to be enough to bolster the

  earth element in a stupendous body. Stopping a stride from her bedroom door she wanted

  to bolt back to work, back to a world she knew and could process easily.

  Chicken… You beat him once. All you have to do is be nice and then kick him out. Using her

  elbow to depress the door handle Cat suppressed a laugh. She could have just willed it to open.

  Nah…. Way too melodramatic!

  The shirt tails flapped round her thighs as she approached the bed, eyes locked onto the male

  thing who had invaded her home. Her heartbeat speeded up. Sweat beaded her upper lip as

  a wash of desire balled hot and needy in the pit of her stomach.

  “Stop right now Fur ball or all this goes over your head.” Emerald green eyes blazed with the

  effort to negate the flood of glamour her body responded to, all too willingly.

  With a husky laugh Drusal used both hands to push back against the headboard.

  “My body and mind are working as they should…” With a shrug of wide shoulders he offered

  her a grin of apology. Leaning forward slightly he touched the fingers of his right hand first to

  forehead then to the vicinity of his heart. “I greet you on this glorious morning Princessin.”

  Each word was precisely delivered in a deep honeyed voice, guaranteed to fluster any woman,

  especially Cat who stood transfixed, mouth open in a soundless ohhh. Placing the tray across

  his lap she wriggled to the foot of the bed, cross-legged, bursting to question him on the forms

  of greeting employed in a Sidhe realm.

  Drusal was torn between the food set before him and the questioning gaze fixed on his face.

  “Please ask me the question burning in your mind, before my mouth is too full to answer.”

  Picking up an apple he threw it to land in her lap. “You also need to eat my mate.”

  He chuckled at the storm clouds on her face.

  Ignoring the possessive pro-noun she wriggled deeper into the mattress, head tilted to one

  side her braid came loose to spill over one shoulder in a silken tide. The faintest hint of red

  gleamed in the morning sun. Drusal’s mouth watered, more from the sight of a length of

  glorious hair than the pile of fruit and cereals before him.

  “We can both eat and talk Drusal, unless you have a schedule to keep.” Cat bit into the crisp

  green apple savouring the tart juice rolling down her throat. Pointing the index finger of the

  hand holding the apple, she indicated to head and heart in a parody of his greeting.

  “When you greeted Shayla and Jarl you touched only your forehead and bowed. Correct…?”

  Desire for his body forgotten for the moment, Cat craved knowledge of her true life.

  Nodding around a mouthful of muesli Drusal acknowledged her question, wishing for meat

  rather than unsatisfying grain.

  “When you greeted me just now, you didn’t bow but touched your heart instead. Why?”

  Keen intelligence shone from hazel eyes, emerald fire held at bay in learning mode.

  Taking a sip of juice Drusal felt the strength returning to his body. He was more than ready

  to teach this little witch the manners of the Court, she would need them when he took her

  home as a bonded mate.

  “Every greeting has a nuance, a way to impart your status in relation to the male or female

  you are greeting.” He was entranced by the way she wriggled in place when absorbing new

  information. Taking a bite from his own apple, Drusal tried to ignore the way her every move

  had him fascinated like a love starved puppy. He choked on the tart fruit remembering

  belatedly, that as a love starved puppy he had inveigled his way through her shields.

  Cat’s concern was instantaneous, dropping to her feet she rushed to his side expecting a

  relapse at any minute. Warm hands stroked his back soothing the coughing fit as she slipped

  behind wide shoulders to cushion his back against her breast.

  Letting his head fall back on her shoulder, Drusal inhaled Cat’s scent. There was no single

  defining perfume but a mixture of his earth scent, the salty bite of sea water, crisp freshness

  of mountain air and the tang of autumn bonfires. A frisson of fear raised the hairs on the nape

  of his neck, she embodied every element. The witch wasn’t malleable to any persuasion the

  Court could throw at her. Becoming her one true mate, was the only control he could ever

  hope to possess. Making her angry at him again was not a path to travel down, patience

  would serve a better purpose in gaining her trust. Reaching a hand to her wrist Drusal eased

  a solicitous female back to her feet, indicating to her perch at the foot of the bed.

  “Please Iscatya… I am not impervious to your female body.” He croaked huskily, throat raw

  from an extended coughing fit. A snort of cool derision left her lips. “Liar… Do I look stupid?”

  Cat scowled at him in blatant disbelief.

  “I know you find me repulsive, but by becoming my mate you would take one almighty step

  towards ruling the Sovereign Court.” Cat smiled slowly, a delicious curve of pale pink lips.

  “Having told one lie, how many more are you capable of?” Picking at the fruit on the tray,

  she waited impatiently for Drusal to answer the question without tying himself in knots.

  “I told thee no lie. I am not impervious to thy body.” Pearlescent grey eyes gleamed with

  copper highlights. “I would prefer to be mated to a female of pure blood, not a hybrid.”

  He shrugged spreading out his palms as if to say tough, deal with it.

  “That is the truth Iscatya.” His growl was low and deep without any hint of apology.

  “I actually believe you.” Tossing a plum stone back on the tray she lifted the weight from

  his legs to place it on the floor. The poor sod hadn’t a clue about her true origins.

  “So... If you cannot tell a lie, tell me truly Drusal Lord Vardon of the Green Hills, do you

  want me as your mate to usurp my grandmother?” Her tone was brisk and cold. If only she

  knew how frighteningly like Queen Istirina she was right now.

  “If I said yes, what would you do?” His answer was evasive but effectively confirmed her

  worst fears.

  “Not a damn thing Drusal. I am not ever in your wildest dreams going to be your mate and

  Queen Grandmother can go to hell before I enter her Court.” Prodding at her chest Cat’s

  anger escalated. How dare these creatures presume to control her life?

  “I may be a mongrel, a hybrid as you so succinctly phrased it, but what are you?”

  Pacing the floor in front of the bed she felt her glamour begin to crack, a red hot surge of

  earth elements raging through her veins. No… Not now.

  Biting back the storm building in her heart she inhaled deeply, absorbing the sweet freshness

  of morning dew. The racing of her heart slowed, her head cleared as Cat frowned at the

  epitome of female desire lounging in her bed. “What are you Drusal?”

  Tilted emerald eyes blazed from a delicate face, as she asked a question, he had to answer.

  Intent on the shimmer that had covered Cat from head to toe for a split second, Drusal

  failed to hear a forceful demand to reveal his true nature.
He was more interested in the

  female beneath human shaped glamour. His pulse speeded up. Pale green luminescence

  suffused his skin at the promise of a splendid mate.

  Hey Fur ball, I’m talking to you. The voice inside his head struck like a blunt sledge hammer.

  By the Fates she was vicious when angry. Drusal was regretting ever sneaking into her home.

  His body hadn’t fully recovered from the previous assault. Lifting his head with a groan, he

  watched Cat pace across the carpet. If she had a tail it would be lashing from side to side.

  “I am a shape-shifter, the Queens Dark Hound. I track down all who plot against the Court.”

  His tone was aggressively defensive. Having his mind rattled so easily, raised the fine hairs

  on smooth textured skin.

  “Then what do you do Fur ball?” Acid dripped from every word.

  “I despatch them.” The monotone of a bass voice, held no sign of remorse for his actions.

  “Why Drusal? Why would you do such a monstrous thing?” Tears streamed down Cat’s face

  as she choked on her grief. Had he tracked down her parents? Had he killed them? Falling

  to her knees, arms wrapped around her chest she wept for her loss. Crying for Drusal and

  his victims both, she rocked on her knees unable to stem the flow of tears.

  Leaping from the bed Drusal tied the ubiquitous bath sheet round his waist. Dropping to his

  haunches in front of Cat, he felt the sting of unaccustomed tears in his eyes. He hadn’t cried since

  his mother left this plain many hundreds of years since. “Cat, listen to me please….”

  Brushing a tear from his cheek he unburdened his soul, offered his intended mate the best

  opportunity to finally destroy him.

  “I tracked them down, yes… I always gave them a choice, to return to the Court and the

  Queens pleasure, or instant exile from the Sovereign Isles. I have never destroyed an

  innocent being.” He placed his hand on the floor in front of her, hoping Iscatya would touch

  him and ease the burden of his guilt.

  Lifting a tear drenched face Cat searched his eyes wanting to find deception. She found his

 

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