Leaning over the edge of the sun lounger, Cat caught Drusal wiping a tear from his cheek.
So an invincible warrior lived in isolation, all because he had bartered his soul to Grandmother
to keep his dignity intact. “Dammit…”
Shifting to sit on the edge of the lounger, she sank her head into her hands, fingers tightening
on throbbing temples. “Is there anything left worth saving?”
Her voice was nearly as harsh as his, a desperate questioning of the faith required to help a
brethren who held him in contempt.
“If but one of my brothers is in need, I cannot in conscience leave them to live in an eternity
of filth and degradation.” Lifting his face to hers Drusal glowed with the truth of his oath, the
blinding waves of luminescence hurt her eyes.
“Ok…” Holding up a hand to still the storm in an opalescent gaze, Cat reached out to him.
Tentatively he clasped at proffered fingers to swing back to sit within inches of her knees.
“Do you offer your help Iscatya?” Hope flared in a tentative smile.
“Yes, for what little good it will do.” Her faith in the powers she held, was rocked at the total
loss of decency in her Grandmother’s soul. Goodness should prevail…
For the life in her Cat couldn’t see how.
Drusal’s stomach rumbled like the thunder storm in the distance. They both laughed shakily
at the sound of a Hound’s hunger. The afternoon had disappeared while Cat had been held
spellbound by all the murky chaos that had been revealed.
“Good grief man, are you always this hungry?” Picking up her I-phone, she tapped out the
number of her favourite Chinese restaurant. Cooking another meal was the last thought on
her mind. Lord Vardon was a mine of information she was determined to delve into.
“Bathroom break before dinner is delivered.” Ordering a long list of dishes she left Drusal to
peruse his navel under stormy skies.
Meal scattered across the deck, Drusal examined each dish before tasting the food on offer.
Armed with garbage bags and a bottle of merlot, Cat cleared a space to drop down next to
him. Pouring a glass of wine she pushed it into his hand with a sly smile. She had no idea if
alcohol affected the Sidhe in the same way it affected humans, but she wanted him relaxed
enough to answer her questions without reserve. The sight of white teeth tearing into spare
ribs gave her a vivid picture of the hound of his alter ego.
Preparing crispy duck pancakes with hoisin sauce and shredded cucumber, Cat offered him
the rolled delicacy. Drusal devoured it in two bites whilst eyeing the duck carcass. A musical
laugh brought opalescent eyes back to Cat’s face. “Slow down man, we have all night.”
She gurgled contentedly, taking a sip of wine. A sheepish grin stretched his mouth wide as
he emulated her in an experimental drink of wine.
“This fruit is of the vine, is it not?” Licking at his lips he took a deep draught.
“Yep, red wine…” Cat smiled round the rim of her glass.
“I have a liking for this wine.” He finished the glass, throwing back his head to swallow
the last drop. Emerald eyes followed the movement of his throat as he swallowed. Phew...
He was hot. Cat decided not to drink her wine. A lack of inhibition would be too dangerous
in Drusal’s company. He seemed unfazed by the alcohol he’d consumed. Mores the pity…
Watching a massive male eat egg fried rice with his fingers, without dropping a single grain
was entertainment in itself. Cat wriggled in place, building up the confidence to push for
more knowledge. Drusal, in the short time he had known the witch, recognised the signs of
an insatiable curiosity in the way her body moved, the emerald flickers in tilted eyes.
His enjoyment of a novel meal could be sustained, as he fed that curiosity.
“Ask what you wish Iscatya, I will answer as best I can…” Picking at the remains of the duck
carcass, his mood felt decidedly mellow, in total contrast to the earlier antagonism he felt
at her hesitation to commit to him. “You may not like the path my questioning will lead…”
Biting at her lip Cat buried any apprehension deep at the back of mind.
“My displeasure would stop you…?” Drusal raised his eyebrows in wry questioning.
“No… I’m just giving you fair warning.” Her mouth relaxed into a smile that held his gaze,
a smile that held tenderness and offered untold warmth.
“Ask Princessin…” Drusal felt his heart contract in his chest, this female was captivating
when she smiled at him with wariness in her eyes.
“I want to know more about the mating process….?” She gasped on breath, at the sudden
wash of hot desire that rippled over her skin. “Stop it Drusal, I meant the different stages
of connection, not the basic idea of bonding. I’m well aware of what it means to mate.”
Rubbing at the goose flesh covering her arms, Cat glared at him.
“Sorry…” He murmured, voice honey sweet and cloying. “My mistake Iscatya...”
Running a finger across his lip, he licked at the sticky sweetness left behind by barbecued
spare ribs, eyes glowing amber, as the hound scented arousal in the female.
“There are stages in the bonding process?” Coldness had replaced tenderness, in an emerald
gaze that pinned him down.
“Aye… Any adult can mate in a joining of bodies. A basic bonding of consensual sexual desires,
that can be dissolved at need, if the partnership does not fulfil the promise.” Cat’s eyebrows
arched in surprise. “A quickie divorce… I never expected that.”
Ignoring the interruption Drusal moved on to the next stage. “Bonding is the second step,
when elements are exchanged, when life essence mingles in a union that is sacred and not so
easily put aside.” Shifting restlessly he kept his eyes lowered, the last stage was the one he
craved above all else. He knew Cat would distance him, if she had any inkling as to his true
desire to take her as a mated female.
“A marked mating is the final stage of complete bonding. Once marked, the male is inviolate,
his body belongs irrevocably to the female who grants him the mark.”
Cat sighed, a brush of icy breath weaving through the tangled curls at his shoulders.
“Only a Royal female is capable of marking her mate?” She suddenly understood with perfect
clarity, why he had evaded Istirina’s bed and why he wanted to be her mate.
“You want me to mate mark you, to free you from Grandmothers clutches?” Drusal nodded,
hands reaching for Cat before she followed the train of thought to its distasteful end.
“That’s pretty cold blooded, considering you would be stuck with a mate you detest for the
rest of a very long life.” Emerald eyes flew wide, remembering how Istirina had dispatched
her mate to his doom.
“If I die, only then will you be completely free….” Jumping to her feet Cat backed into the
kitchen, putting as much distance as she could between her and a disreputable Hound.
Drusal eased to his feet wary of the lash of Iscatya’s anger.
“I would rather die a thousand times than raise a hand in violence to you.” With the fingers
of right hand to head then heart he bowed low, hoping to dissolve the animosity in her gaze.
“Good…” She snarled back. “Because the threat of extinction works both ways…”
Aye, she was a true warrior at heart, a wort
hy partner for the Hound. Drusal grinned at a
clever summation of the mating ritual. They, in all probability would kill each other before
ever submitting to the full ties of marked mating.
“I leave you to savour the taste of my death Iscatya…” Turning away he left her to simmer
in a fit of righteous anger. Surprisingly, Cat wasn’t angry or afraid. She knew all that the
Lord Vardon had planned. His intent to have her as marked mate overrode any distaste for
a presumed Sidhe hybrid female. To free his brethren he would submit to a form of slavery
any free thinking male would abhor.
Bagging the remains of a meal spread across the deck she applauded his plan. If they could
convince Queen Grandmother of the connection, Drusal’s presence at Court would be safe
from recriminations. Unwanted lust held at bay while a way was found to extract his brothers.
The sound of claws tapping on slate tiles, brought her head round, a huge white furred wolf
trotted towards her, amber eyes glowing fiercely in a head of lupine grace.
“Drusal…?” Her whisper held awe. He was even more magnificent in animal form.
Ears twitching at the sound of her voice, the animal sashayed closer to settle on his haunches
at her feet, a long tongue rasped roughly over tender skin from ankle to thigh in a deliciously
satisfied stroke. “Yukk…. That does not win you any brownie points mister.”
Reaching down she stroked his muzzle, letting a huge wolf nuzzle at the palm of her hand.
“Apology accepted…” A nuzzle from the wolf was safer ground than a kiss from enticing lips.
Rubbing a cold nose to her leg, the wolf launched himself out the patio doors in a flash of
white fur and awesome speed.
Glass of wine in one hand kindle in the other, Cat stretched out on the lounger. The air had
cleared of storms, literally and figuratively. The truth was out. Settling in for a long wait, she
picked up the story of Jane Eyre and Mr Rochester, a timeless classic of love and betrayal.
One that always reduced her to tears when Jane heard Edward Rochester call out to her in
desperation over miles of moorland. Eyes suddenly heavy, Cat yawned, the kindle falling
from unwieldy fingers she fell into a deep sleep of mental exhaustion, wine left untouched.
Drusal loped around the perimeter of the shields, senses on high alert for signs of tampering.
Satisfied that Iscatya was safe within her stronghold he pounded back to the house ready to
get down on one knee and vow allegiance to his female. Easing up on his approach he felt
the soft breathing that denoted sleep, saw a pale hand draped over the edge of the lounger.
Shifting to stand over a defenceless female, bare skinned in the balmy breeze, he knelt to
take the precious bundle of Royalty in a gentle embrace.
Stirring slightly, Iscatya buried into his chest with a wistful sigh. Carrying a burden that felt
feather-light to the warrior, he closed doors and windows with his mind before trans-locating
directly to the bedroom. Laying Cat fully clothed on the bed, Drusal pulled on sweat pants
and t-shirt before easing down at her side. The morrow would bring with it more questions,
of this he was certain. For now, they both had need of the regeneration of blessed sleep.
Placing long fingers over a tiny fist, the warrior felt the pull of attraction he had fought to
avoid for centuries. The attraction of blood to blood could not, would not be denied.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cat woke feeling fully rested for the first time in days. Turning her head on the pillow she
found Drusal sprawled face down, a warm hand resting on her stomach. A smile tugged at
the corners of her mouth. For all his menace the Dark Hound had put her to bed and stayed
to watch over her. Slipping from the bed she tiptoed to the bathroom to take a shower,
sneaking a peek over her shoulder at the sleeping male. Maybe they had a truce, a fragile
one at best, but definitely better than a drawn out fight for survival.
Drusal had felt her leave the bed even as he slept, opening sleep misted eyes, he imagined
water cascading over the lithe curves of the witch’s body, wanting to follow that trail with
his lips, his tongue. A throbbing arousal brought him wide awake. Groaning out loud, he
rolled off the bed striding painfully to plant his fists on the wide windowsill. He had to leave
soon, or he would take what his body desired without thought to the consequences. That
desire was centred on a female of questionable descent, one who held him in contempt.
Breathing deeply, his heart beat erratically as Cat came back into the room in a misty cloud
of perfumed air. “Drusal are you alright?” Her concern nearly undid his resolve.
Straightening up he turned to face Iscatya, words of farewell on his lips.
“You’re leaving…?” Aye… She was quick to discern his moods.
“It is time…” He nodded agreement. “The Queen will not wait forever.” He indicated to the
barrier surrounding the house and grounds.
“I would play upon her desire for me, rather than watch an army march through those woods
in search of us both.” He had courted disaster by ignoring the summons to return to Withins
Underhill. Perhaps if he offered his body in exchange for his brothers, maybe then Iscatya
would be safe from deadly reprisal. Distracting the Queen would gain time for the warriors
to remove this female to safer ground. “No…” Face white with fear for him, Cat stumbled
towards Drusal. “Stay here… Together we can find a way to help your brothers.”
It was no longer simply a wish to help his brethren. It had become a battle to save the life
of Istirina’s Heir. Drusal had no illusions where the Queen was concerned. Once she had
the female in her hands, torture and death would surely follow.
Cat read the withdrawal in opalescent eyes, her heart stopped at the realisation of her fears.
She had pushed him away, destroyed any hope he had left. “I am begging you…”
His finger on her lips stilled the sentence. “Hush…” Drusal crooned, cupping her face in a
cage of tenderness. “May I kiss thee in farewell?” Desire flashed amber in his eyes.
The molten honey of a breathless request melted the bones in Cat’s body. She knew if he
kissed her, every fibre of her being would beg for more. Pathetically grateful that he had
asked her permission, she nodded agreement, unable to utter a word her throat was so
tight in the painful grip of despair. A fleeting touch of a firm mouth pressed to hers was
sweet, her heart thudded as the pressure increased, his tongue licking at the fullness of her
lower lip. Without conscious thought, opening up to a kiss that delved soul deep, her palms
ran over the slim curve of his waist to travel up tensed muscles to clutch at Drusal’s wide
shoulders. Drawing closer, moulding her body to his, Cat came in contact with the hard
evidence of his arousal. With a moan she rubbed against him. In the next heartbeat he was
gone from her arms in a shimmer of green light. Falling to floor on her backside, Cat was
shocked awake from an erotic daze. Well damn it, she thought hotly, he can translocate
just like Jarl.
Cat spent the rest of day feeling lonely and totally freaked out. Once every hour she sent
out a wisp of thought to Drusal, begging him to come back. Nothing, not even a whisper
answered her except for one breathless moment, when she caugh
t the echo of her name.
Wishful thinking you moron… Cat berated an over active libido for that one.
Her skin tingled. The fire in her belly teased her at the memory of a hard arousal crushing
into her stomach. She wasn’t immune to the magnetism of the Sidhe male, another minute
and she would have dragged him into bed. Shame tinged her face with a blush.
That’s why he left you idiot, so you couldn’t contaminate his perfect body. Self-castigation
failed to dampen the need for Drusal at her side, his strength made her feel safe in a world
that conspired to bring about her downfall. Cat needed something prosaic to bring her back
to a grounded state. Laptop in hand she curled up on the big bed, inhaling Drusal’s lingering
scent of sweet grass and wild flowers. With a humph of disappointment that she was alone,
angry at herself for wishing Fur ball was curled up at her side, she immersed herself in a
mind-bendingly boring topic of interactive learning. Full concentration on the peer discussion
in progress kept her distracted well into the evening. The pressure of the last twenty four
hours took its toll on a battered psyche. Logging off Cat pushed the laptop to one side, curling
up in a ball, to fall into a fretful doze.
She woke to the clamour of battle waging outside her window, howling voices screamed into
the moonless night. Night terrors had afflicted her as a child, this was just another nightmare.
Shaking her head Cat snuggled deeper under the duvet ignoring the noise that rattled in her
head. Had the denizens of the Dark dimensions finally found her?
“Princessin, Princessin, come out to play…” A guttural roar smote her ears and battered at
a sleep-clouded mind. “Princessin, we have a gift for you…”
Sliding from the bed, Cat crept to the window on bare feet, still dressed in shorts and t-shirt.
The shield blocking the entrance to the driveway appeared alive with electrical arcs, as metal
weapons beat relentlessly upon it in discordant rhythm. The faintest of thoughts seeped into
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