Burn for Me (Edanholme Book 1)

by Catherine Fitzpatrick

  followed by a bow that scraped his hair over the tiled floor.

  “My Lord Jarl, Prince of the Irish Court, I am honoured to be in thy presence.” The offer of

  allegiance, protection and love was submissive enough to ease the threat of violence in the

  room. Cat uncurled from a fighting stance at Drusal’s graceful deference to a noble Prince.

  “I see that you have learnt some humility recently Dark Hound.” Ever the courteous male,

  Jarl made sure Cat was seated before he returned a small bow to Drusal.

  “Your posture offered no indication of duplicitous intent, indeed it was well done.”

  This was high praise from a scion of the Royal Irish Court.

  Drusal knew if he had shown any less than the highest respect to Cat’s grandparent he would

  have been pinned to the floor, throat locked in steel jaws. He may be arrogant and bigoted,

  but he wasn’t stupid. Sensing Iscatya’s incipient migraine, he sent a wash of earth essence

  over her body, a tender caress of mind and spirit to alleviate the pain.

  Picking up on his Granddaughter’s torn allegiance, the ready defence of a male not worthy

  to kiss her feet, Jarl grimaced at the glance of gratitude she threw at the Lord Vardon.

  The hound had used his essence to calm a female, ready and willing to fight for her mate.

  “This is why you called me to your side Iscatya?” Jarl indicated to the obvious bonding of

  elements that played in tendrils of green and gold over their skin.

  “Yes and no… Udg, I love you, I would never willingly upset you.” Reaching out a hand to

  Drusal she pulled him forward.

  “We, Drusal and I, have been coerced into a situation of the Queen’s design. Please give us

  time to work through a relationship that we are trying to mould to suit both our needs.”

  She sought comfort from the hulking male at her side. A warm hand enclosed her fingers

  offering solid support.

  “I did not ask for a mating bond, but I am not in truth averse to it. We ask only that you

  and Shayla listen to our plans to offer safe haven for the Sidhe, who would throw off the

  shackles of Istirina’s unhealthy control.” Recounting the pain and suffering Drusal had

  endured to tempt Cat from the security of her home, she left out mention of mate marks

  until they were alone. Jarl did not need to witness the condemnation that would surely

  come her way. She also confessed to the attachment of a human in unearthing Phillipe’s

  secreted wealth. This passed almost unnoticed, considering Jarl had integrated fully into

  the human world. Questions remained, hanging in the ether ready to be pounced upon.

  Leaning back in his chair, Jarl scanned Cat’s face with fascinated eyes.

  “I am proud of a female who could imprison a troll such as Dardanos. I applaud the way

  you used the gifts of the warriors to turn them in your favour. These acts of bloodless

  control show an understanding of Sidhe politics more sophisticated than any I tried to

  teach you…” Looming to his feet he pulled Cat in his wake.

  “Come let us stroll in the garden, the Lord Vardon’s injuries warrant rest.” Throwing an

  arm round her shoulders, he steered a reluctant female outside.

  “Iscatya what have you done, that you hide the truth from your mate?” Grandfather was

  nobody’s fool, least of all hers.

  “I mate marked all the warriors…” Hanging her head in shame, Cat was surprised by the

  rumbling laugh escaping from Jarl’s lips.

  “You will be a worthy Queen, if you can control the Hound’s deserved anger…” As an alpha

  male, Jarl knew how murderous the Lord Vardon would feel, when honesty prevailed.

  “I don’t want to be a Queen.” She wailed like a babe in arms, resting her forehead on her

  Grandfather’s chest.

  “It is not a choice. It is the destiny of two royal bloodlines. Istia your mother and Edan your

  father both gave up any hope of ascending to the thrones of powerful Courts when they

  mated in the face of opposition. You are their ultimate sacrifice, a child endowed with all

  four elemental forces. The power that resides within a cloak of human features is force of

  nature not seen before. A being of such greatness, the earth itself is yours to command.”

  Offering Cat the full deference of both sets of fingers to head and heart, Jarl bowed low to

  his granddaughter.

  “My heart has ever been yours. My life I lay at your feet Iscatya Edan-Fire.”

  With a swift kiss on her forehead he disappeared, leaving Cat to deal with a mate who had

  more questions than she was happy to answer.

  Dragging her feet, Cat approached the house. A frown creased the bridge of her nose at

  Jarl’s insistence she would be a Queen. Not sodding likely, if it meant she would become

  as tainted as Istirina. She found Drusal in the kitchen heaping a bowl with lettuce and

  tomatoes, teeth sunk into a whole fruit he locked eyes on hers in apology.

  My stomach is noisy. I am appeasing the demand for sustenance.

  The thought touched her mind. His mouth was too busy devouring a beef tomato, juices

  dribbling down his chin.

  Relief eased the tension in her shoulders, a hungry man she could deal with easily. The Dark

  Hound lurking in amber shaded eyes was a whole different ball game. With a grin at his lack

  of cooking skills, Cat dragged her hair into a braid before tugging the bowl of whole lettuce

  from his hands.

  “I’m going to show you how to make a simple meal, one that won’t task your hunting skills,

  but will involve the use of sharp knives.” A wicked gleam flashed in tilted hazel eyes.

  “I promise not to use them on you…”

  Drusal just grunted as he followed her to a work station at the kitchen island, running long

  fingers over gleaming black marble in a caress of appreciation at the wealth of earth element

  it stored. “I have never found it necessary to prepare food.” Leaning against the counter top,

  he watched with interest as Cat littered the surface with produce and instruments of torture.

  Picking up a knife he tested the edge on the ball of his thumb, a stinging cut beaded with

  blood. Tossing him a paper tissue, cat shook her head at his surprised expression.

  “With an appetite like yours, the wildlife will be decimated in days.” With speed and precision

  she began to slice tomatoes and lettuce, dropping them into a salad bowl.

  “Learn to use a kitchen and leave the bunnies alone…” Indicating for him to use the knife to

  dice cucumber into cubes, she licked at the tomato juices running between her fingers.

  “I am willing to do that for thee…” Pearlescent eyes alive with copper swirls latched onto her

  fingers with greedy desire. The knife in Drusal’s hand stilled, his body radiating with green

  luminescence. Cat’s stomach tightened, a solid pulse of arousal raced through her body,

  nipples hardening in response to his appeal. Turning on the cold tap to rinse her hands, the

  icy water doused some of the flames igniting her blood, leaving a slow burn in its wake.

  Cat knew without a hint of doubt she would give in to passion and desire, but not before

  Drusal was aware of the complications of her scheming. She was prepared for his fury.

  Rather he became mad at her before she tasted all he had to offer, than pick up the pieces

  of a broken heart once the bonding was complete.

  “Control your appetite Lord Vardon. You and I have much to
discuss, don’t distract me, or

  I might inadvertently lose control of a knife.” With a sweet smile Cat went to the fridge to find

  something to hang onto as her legs were trembling out of control.

  “Do you want chicken or beef with the salad?” Head buried in cold depths, her cheeks

  cooled, erratic breathing returning to a normal rate.

  “Both…” Drusal stabbed at the cucumber. Unaccustomed to being repulsed so often and

  for so long, he took out his aching frustration on the defenceless vegetable.

  With a withering glance at the mush spreading across the marble surface, Cat passed him

  a platter of meat. “Sit down… I’ll do the rest.”

  Scraping the debris into a bin, she diced the remainder of the cucumber, tossed the salad

  in blue cheese dressing, to join a fuming male at the table.

  He was picking at the meat, dropping morsels on his tongue with obvious relish.

  “Haven’t you ever used cutlery?” Cat had been taught from infancy to use a knife and fork,

  Drusal came from a whole different era.

  “I use a hunting knife if my meat is hot, if not I use my teeth.” He grinned, showcasing a

  wide expanse of gleaming white teeth.

  “Ok… We can dispense with fine dining and use our fingers if you prefer.” Trying hard to

  mollify the hound rising in his eyes, Cat dipped her fingers in the salad bowl to secure a

  piece of tomato dripping with dressing.

  Following her lead, Drusal tasted the salad hesitantly. Licking the dressing from his fingers

  a sly smile curved firm lips. “This is good… Do you wish to lick the sauce from my fingers?”

  Cat laughed at a tenacious grasp on foreplay. Choking on a bite of tomato she shook her

  head. “Stop the teasing Fur ball, until we are both ready to take our relationship further.”

  Wriggling in her seat, Cat watched him continue eating with nimble fingers.

  Every bite Drusal took seduced him to make inroads into the food on offer. It was simple

  fare. He lingered over every delicious mouthful, relaxing his guard under the influence of

  food designed to bolster depleted reserves.

  Aware of the easing of tension in his aura, Cat prepared the way to reveal the disastrous

  actions taken to save his brothers.

  “Do you have a home other than Withins Underhill?” Slicing the beef into strips she dropped

  a chunk on his plate. With a nod he began to tear into the meat, shredding it in fine strips.

  “Do you plan on going back there?” His silence was unnerving. Reaching for one of the bagels

  left over from a girly brunch, Cat sank her teeth into smoked salmon and cream cheese with a

  moan of delight.

  Drusal’s head shot up. “I would ask that you do not make those sounds my mate…” He was

  hanging on to control by a thread. Listening to a deep throated moan, made his loins ache

  with the need to have her.

  Eyes wide, she resisted the temptation of salmon and brie, placing it firmly out of harm’s way.

  “Sorry…” Leaning back in the chair, Cat placed her hands in her lap.

  “My thanks….” The sigh leaving firm lips, was truly heartfelt.

  “It would be unwise to return, the cottage lies within the boundaries of the Court. I will miss

  the artefacts of my youth…” He shrugged, dismissing the subject.

  Disturbed that Drusal had to relinquish any object he owned, Cat offered him the means of

  retrieval. “Alex could get them for you. I can store your belongings here until it is safe for

  you to return home.” Her eyes were filled with tears at a loss he brushed off as insignificant.

  “If your sister could do this, I would be grateful.” Inclining his head, Drusal made headway

  towards accepting a human in their fold.

  “Consider it done…” Alex would look forward to rooting through all aspects of his life.

  Drusal wiped at his mouth with the paper tissue the witch handed to him, wary of the line

  of questioning. “Why does my well-being mean so much to you?”

  Iscatya showed no emotion other than calm acceptance at his presence in her home. Alarm

  raised the hair on the nape of Drusal’s neck. His mate had been evasive and distant from the

  moment he had woken, torn and bleeding in her arms.

  “I care for all the Sidhe… Not Grandmother obviously….” Wriggling in her seat Cat became

  uncomfortable under a steady gaze, the blazing light of suspicion darkened his irises to burnt

  umber, the eyes of a wolf at bay.

  “When you became unconscious…” How much more evasive could she get, without Drusal

  smelling out a lie of omission? He had been in no fit state to realise she had shut him down

  purposely, to prevent him witnessing her true form.

  “I had limited options at my disposal…” Playing with a piece of bread she fidgeted, unwilling

  to say the words that would open an abyss beneath her feet.

  Long fingers reached out to tilt her chin, to meet eyes burning to know the truth of their

  escape from a disgusting Troll.

  “The tale related to Lord Jarl was not the whole of what transpired? There is more that you

  would conceal from me my mate?” Drusal’s whisper was edged with the low snarl of a

  hungry wolf, a male committed to the life force of a future Queen. A reluctant nod of assent

  left Cat with nowhere left to run.

  The grip on her chin tightened, more in forceful command than a tender caress of an eager

  and erstwhile lover.

  “Did you not say to me only hours ago, we share all or we share nothing…?” Releasing her

  chin, Drusal leant back in the chair arms crossed, fingers gripping at his biceps, as if holding

  himself together.

  “I did and I meant it…. But I’m curious as to why you never questioned how you came to

  be released? Why you assumed I was not harmed by Dardanos.” Hoarse with the fear of

  being repulsed, Cat evaded the truth for as long as she could.

  Because he doesn’t really care about you, her hind brain delivered the answer she really

  didn’t want to hear. Cat pushed a plate out of the way, to lean her elbows on meagre earth

  essence, a little gift of fruitful nature she would need to bolster a flagging spirit.

  Surprise lifted Drusal’s eyebrows, his brow creased in a frown of concentration. He had not

  thought to ask. “I listened to the tale given to thy grandparent.” His frown deepened.

  “I admit to surprise at the disrespect shown to a prince of the Irish Court in naming him Udg…

  Why do you do this?”

  A warm smile, a product of happy memories, curved across Cat’s lips.

  “All my life I have had a pet wolf. My earliest recollections were of being nudged to follow

  where he led. Too young to know other than he was my playmate. I treated him as a pet.

  I picked up on the nudges, and named him Udg. Nudge was way beyond my vocabulary.

  The name stuck, Jarl likes it. It is our bond, a connection neither of us will relinquish.”

  Head bent Drusal splayed his fingers across the table.

  “To have such a bond with kin is a balm to the heart…” He whispered out the loss of a father,

  who had been his whole world.

  “It is… It also means that a kinsman knows when you are being evasive, as I have been.”

  Taking her courage in both hands, Cat was ready to admit her deviousness to a male who

  would perceive it as rejection of himself as a mate.

  “There was only one safe way to send your brothers back to Istirina. A way to
secure their

  lives from vicious reprisal, at defeat by a female of unknown power….” Cat swallowed down

  the acid bile of nausea building in her throat.

  “I gave them all a mate mark.” She confessed bluntly, head bowed waiting for the outburst

  of anger at her candid disclosure. She didn’t have long to wait.

  The growl that emanated from Drusal’s throat was visceral, a howl of love betrayed.

  “Me you will not have… My brethren you take as thy Grandmother has. In a frenzy of greed

  to stake a claim on the throne…” Disgust filled her mind, a blast of hatred and brutally

  aimed contempt.

  Disavowal of all they had gained broke the connection of elements. Cat felt her earth

  essence shudder under the assault of the Hound’s sense of outrage. She knew this would

  happen, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear.

  “Lord Vardon… I did what I had to do, to make certain their bodies were inviolate.

  My decisions are not yours to question.” She whispered hoarsely. Raising her eyes to his,

  Cat offered him her heart and soul, even as her words knocked him back.

  Drusal was too far gone to recognise the offer of complete self she held out. Shifting to wolf

  he bounded from the kitchen, leaving Cat to sink into despair. Sobs wracked her body in an

  avalanche of loneliness. Drusal was her anchor in a shifting nightmare. She had been right

  to use any means to save his brothers. Informing her mate, he had no right to question her

  actions, shattered the blossoming trust the bond had reinforced. The bond was gone…

  Dispersed by anger, and presumed betrayal…

  Bounding over the earth on four legs instead of two, Drusal put as much distance as possible

  between himself and a callous witch. Having mate marked his brothers and not the male she

  admitted to the Lord Jarl she was not averse to, made him the lowest of her consorts.

  The drudge kept for breeding purposes only. His pride would not let him sink to those depths,

  he had fought too long to become the property of another twisted female.

  Dropping to his haunches, he let lose a long howl of despair.