Velvet Haven

by Sophie Renwick

  She nodded and licked the tip of his finger as he brushed it across her lips. Unable to resist the temptation she offered, he lowered his head, nuzzling the valley of scented skin. His cock grew, and he drove it against her belly as he sucked her nipple greedily into his mouth.

  Her hand slid down between their molded bodies. Her fingertip found the tip of his cock, and she flicked at the metal ball while she ran her fingers along the sigils that decorated his shaft.

  His glans was on fire as she teased the piercing at the tip of his cock. Then her fingers moved down until his heavy length was in her palm. Gripping him, she stroked, softly at first, then more firmly, until she was tossing him off the way he liked it, hard and fast. He was ready to explode, but not in her hand.

  Their gaze met over the mounds of her breasts, and he reached for her wrist with one hand before gently tugging her down to her knees. They were kneeling, face-to-face. Their mouths met, hot and wet, kissing hungrily as their tongues swirled and his hands worked her breasts and nipples. He was blind to every thought except that of fulfillment.

  She surprised him by breaking off the kiss and leaning forward, taking the tip of her tongue and circling it around his glans, flicking the metal ball. He groaned, then fisted her hair in his hand, drawing her down lower to fill her mouth. He savored it, the sound and feel of Mairi sucking him off.

  She took him in, his entire length, and he felt the first rush of arousal seep out of his tip.

  “Finish me,” he ground out. One more draw of her lips and he was gone, pulling out of her mouth and spilling himself between the cleft of her breasts.

  He couldn’t catch his breath. He collapsed against her, and she cradled him, brushing her hands over his shoulders as she kissed him tenderly.

  Their combined energy melded, drawing them together, and for a few seconds, he let it. Just enjoyed feeling her invading his blood. But then reality came crashing down.

  She couldn’t be his. And to drop his guard like this could be a lethal mistake.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. He shoved aside the confusion and hurt in her voice. He didn’t say anything; he just left her crouched down on the shower floor, the warm water washing away the sins of what they’d done.

  He didn’t look back, knowing that if he did, he’d never give her up.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It had been a long damn time since Mairi had cried herself to sleep, but she’d done just that. The tears she had spilled the first night they had met were nothing like this. She’d balled like a baby after Bran had left her. She’d seen the pain in his eyes and knew what it cost to leave her like that. Why did he need to make her think he didn’t want her when his desire was so blatant in his eyes, in his touch? In that special of hum of his?

  “Because you are a danger to him.”

  Mairi was dreaming. She had to be to hear a voice in her head like that. But she couldn’t wake up. She didn’t like this place in which she suddenly found herself. It was a crypt of sorts, with torches that cast eerie flickering shadows along the stone walls. Drawn on one wall, in red, were the symbols that had been carved on Lauren’s body, along with symbols she had never seen before.

  “Hello?” she called. “Is anyone here?”

  Her voice echoed off the walls and the ceiling. She rubbed her hands down her arms, attempting to ward off the evil she felt wrapping itself around her.

  She walked forward, toward the light that flickered a little way ahead. She heard a quiet sound, like a woman’s voice. Then that of a man. Peeking around the corner, she heard another voice.

  “Bran?” she asked in a hopeful whisper.

  There was no response. She turned, back to the light, to the cavern that was beyond. At an altar of sorts was a hooded figure; on the altar was a man, naked, bound, his head shaved. Black wax dripped from a cup the hooded figure held. The man moaned when the wax hit flesh. Mairi studied the flesh, and saw the familiar vinelike sigils that adorned Bran’s body.

  “Hello, Mairi.”

  A woman with long black hair stepped from the shadows. She wore an opaque white gown that displayed her naked body beneath. She walked with the sensuality of a cat, slinking across the floor with an air of supremacy and confidence. Her smile was cruel. Calculating.

  Mairi glanced over her shoulder, back at the hooded figure. He was picking up a knife—no, a dagger—similar to the one she had dreamed of. Her gaze returned to the woman, and then Mairi took a step back. “Do I know you?”

  The woman’s long fingers caressed the velvet-covered slab of stone that separated them. “I think you do.”

  Mairi glanced down at the altar that lay between them, then back, to the one the man was bound to. They were exactly the same. This is a dream, she reminded herself. She could wake up—at any time. Anytime she wanted. The woman moved forward, smiling as if she knew of Mairi’s thoughts.

  “Do you really think so?” she asked, her gaze flickering down her body.

  “Where am I?”

  The woman laughed. “Do you not know?”

  Mairi glanced around her, trying to look past the symbols and the shadows. Behind the woman’s shoulder, Mairi saw a tunnel. “Does that lead to Annwyn?”

  “Hardly.” With a flick of her hair, the woman considered her with her violet- colored eyes. Was she a Sidhe, too? “This is a Tumulus, and you have, indeed, been here before. This is where I found you as a little girl, playing where you shouldn’t have been.”

  “I’ve never been here. I’ve never even heard that word.” The woman’s gaze narrowed. “A Tumulus is an underground chamber used as a ritual space. Can you guess, Mairi, what sort of rituals are carried out here?”

  The man screamed, and Mairi felt her stomach churn.

  “Death magick,” the woman said with what could only be excitement. “Sex magick.” Her eyes glowed. “Can you imagine who you will bring to this cairn?”

  She shook her head and stepped back, but came up against stone.

  “Stupid human,” the woman admonished. “Bran. Bran is the one who you will bring to this chamber.”

  “No!”

  The woman laughed. “You have no choice, Mairi. You were born into my spell. I don’t know how it happened, but sometime after I cursed darling Bran to love a mortal who would betray and kill him, you were born.”

  Mairi kept shaking her head, trying to wake up, but the woman stepped closer until Mairi was looking into her ruthless eyes. “You have no choice. You will bring him to me. Do you understand? He’s mine.”

  “Morgan,” Mairi hissed.

  “Not entirely stupid, then. But not smart enough to disentangle yourself from my web. Tomorrow, on the night of the new moon, you will bring Bran to me.”

  “What do you want with him?”

  “What any woman wants, of course.”

  Mairi bit her lip at the thought of Bran with this . . . creature. “He won’t have you.”

  “I’ve found a way to have him,” Morgan snapped.

  “His magic is powerful.”

  “And what makes you think mine isn’t?”

  True. How the hell did she know what Morgan was capable of? She only knew she had to wake up from this nightmare.

  Mairi looked around the chamber for a way out. She needed to keep talking, to try to distract Morgan, to have time to think. “Why do you hate Bran so much?”

  “The question is, why don’t you?” Morgan asked as she walked around the altar. “He’s a parasite. He cares nothing for you. He’s using you, just as he’s used hundreds of other mortal women.”

  Mairi shoved aside the creeping jealousy she felt. Morgan was manipulating her. “He’s not using me.”

  “You fool! He lives under a mortal- needing curse! He fucks them because he’s compelled to, and that makes him hate mortals. He hates you.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Such naïveté.” Morgan laughed. “I’ve been on the receiving end of his deceit, mortal. I know the pain. Don’t tell m
e it doesn’t hurt to think of him fucking those other women.”

  “Stop! Don’t,” Mairi pleaded, deciding to play along. Misery loved company, and she hoped Morgan would feel as though they were kindred spirits. How else was Mairi to outwit a sorceress?

  “Do you think he did anything different with you? Felt any different? He used you the same way he did all the others.”

  “I—I don’t believe you,” Mairi said, making her voice break.

  “In a hundred and seventy years of being cursed, how many do you think there were?” Morgan taunted. “Sometimes he had three a night—three at a time,” she continued, relishing the pained expression that crossed Mairi’s face. “You mean nothing to him, Mairi. He doesn’t care. All he cares about is his next meal. His next energy fix.”

  “He said he loved me!” Mairi let out a pained sob, and Morgan fell into her hands.

  “I know you’re in pain. I’ve been there. And Bran . . . he can be a bastard, can’t he?”

  Mairi nodded and pretended she was choking back tears. “I—I thought I mattered to him.”

  “Bran cares for no one. That’s the first thing you must know. The second is, he’ll never stay with you.”

  Mairi wrung her hands. “What should I do?”

  “Help me. I only want what is rightfully mine, what was promised to me. A husband, and a throne. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” she lied. “But I don’t know why you need me.”

  Her gaze flickered over Morgan’s shoulder, and Mairi saw the hooded figure move around the altar. “I have someone to help me once I get Bran. But I need you to bring him here.”

  “What are you going to do with him? Are you going to kill him?” Mairi didn’t know if it was the right thing to say, but she needed to know just what this witch had in store for Bran.

  Morgan smiled. “Only temporarily, sweetie. With no Bran, I can’t have the throne. But with death magick, my . . . friend and I can reanimate him, make him bend to my wishes. There is such power in the dark arts.”

  Inwardly, Mairi cried No!, but she pretended to consider what Morgan had said. “I don’t know. I just want to forget this ever happened.”

  “Think of what he’s done to you. What he’s made you feel. You gave him your body, your heart. You love him, don’t you? And he’s made a fool of you.”

  Mairi nodded, placating Morgan. “I would dearly like him to pay,” she growled, pretending to be angry. Out of any of her emotions, it was the anger that got the most response out of Morgan.

  “Yes,” she hissed, her eyes glowing. “Make him pay. Make him suffer as you are now, knowing he has preyed on so many women, knowing you are one of countless women whose face and name he will not recall. Let us work together and make him rue the day he ever set eyes on us.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  Morgan smiled, showing white teeth that appeared sharp and cruel. “Take this.” She thrust a long silver chain attached to black manacles into Mairi’s hands. “The iron will weaken him so that you can bring him here.”

  Mairi lifted her chin. If Morgan thought they were two of a kind, then Mairi needed to be as cunning as she. “And what do I get in return?”

  “Aren’t you the little mercenary?” Morgan murmured. “I’ve underestimated you.”

  “He lied to me. I want payback.”

  “Then we are kindred spirits, you and I. Tell me, Mairi, what is it you would like? But do not ask for Bran’s life to be spared. I won’t grant that.”

  “I don’t give a shit about his life,” she spat, hoping she was convincing in her anger. The length of iron rattled in her hand as she pretended to think. “If I can’t have Bran,” she said thoughtfully, leading Morgan, hopefully, along the right path, “I want someone just as pleasurable. And I want him to be jealous.”

  “The gargoyle,” Morgan said, glee dripping from her voice. “Oh, yes, the raven would loathe that, his brother with you. I accept this bargain.”

  Morgan’s hand reached out and grasped hers. In her hand a dagger appeared, the same one that Mairi had seen in her dream. At last she realized the significance. She was to use it on Bran.

  “You will plunge it between Bran’s shoulders and kill him. Do you understand? Once he is dead I will be able to bring his body back here.”

  “Hold on—you said I would only have to bring him here! I can’t stab someone, even if you are going to . . . to reanimate him.”

  “Think how wonderful it would feel to have him at your mercy. To show him how strong you are. To make him pay for taking your heart and stomping on it.”

  Mairi tried to hide the horror in her voice. “All right. But what about Carden?”

  “You will find Carden, and then you will return here, where I will torment Bran with the two of you.”

  “Fine, I’ll do it. The bastard deserves it.”

  “And, Mairi?” Dread filled her as Morgan’s lips peeled back in a cruel smile. “You will not double- cross me. And to ensure you don’t, I have your friend. Your little ill friend. Her surgery is coming up, isn’t it?”

  Mairi wanted to scream. Rowan was ill, and this bitch was holding her hostage. It took everything she had to maintain her act. “I understand.”

  “I knew you would. Now,” Morgan instructed, “the moment the tip of the blade goes deep enough to pierce the raven’s heart, I will whisper the gargoyle’s location to you. You will free him. Return here and your friend will be waiting for you.”

  Mairi had no choice but to agree with the madwoman. Not only did Bran’s life depend on it, so did Rowan’s. “All right.”

  Morgan smirked. “It has been extremely satisfying to do business with you. Till tomorrow night, then.”

  The clock chimed in the hall, and Mairi came awake with a start. This was the reason Bran was trying to stay away from her, she realized. He must have seen the same visions she had. He truly believed she was going to kill him. Her.

  “Suriel, I need you,” she whispered in the dark.

  He appeared beside her. “Hello, Mairi.”

  She swallowed, slightly unnerved by what she saw gleaming in his eyes.

  “I had a dream.”

  “I know.”

  “So then you know that Morgan wants me to kill Bran so that she can reanimate him.”

  Suriel’s eyes went wide. “It all makes sense now. Morgan is working with the dark mage. Bran will need to know.”

  “I don’t know the identity of the mage; he was hooded. In the dream I was in some sort of cavern. There were symbols on the wall, and there was a man on an altar. His head was shaved and his body was carved. It was . . .” Mairi swallowed hard. “I think it might have been Bran on the altar.”

  Suriel looked away. “It was your dream, Mairi.”

  “Jesus Christ, Suriel,” she demanded, “just answer me. It was Bran, wasn’t it? That’s what Morgan is going to do to him.”

  “Morgan was showing you what will come to pass. But it can be changed, I promise you. It’s not a path that’s set. Have you figured it out yet, Mairi? What you need to do?”

  “I think so. I can take away the pain of those I love.” He watched her with his dark eyes. “I . . . I saved Rowan by shedding my own blood.” He smiled. “And now I will die for Bran.”

  It had not been hard to garner Bran’s notice. In the club she had sat at a table with Suriel. They had some drinks, and Mairi had flirted shamelessly with Suriel, trying to invoke Bran’s jealousy.

  “It’s not working,” she hissed.

  “Patience,” Suriel whispered, moving closer to her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her hips next to his. “And don’t glare at me. He’ll see through the charade.”

  She smiled and pressed closer to him as Suriel leaned in to her, nuzzling her unbound hair. “Good,” he purred. “I can practically hear him choking on his tongue. Don’t look.” He chuckled. “Have eyes just for me.”

  She looked up at him then. “I’m getting a bit nervous
. I’m right in believing that I have you in me, don’t I?”

  He nodded and caressed her cheek. “Yes. Remember that when it comes time to do what you’re going to do.”

  “All right,” she whispered.

  He kissed her hair and murmured, “I’ll be there when you need me most.”

  “I’m ready to do this. Now if only he would cooperate.”

  Bran could hardly breathe. What the hell was she doing wearing that low-cut dress and draping herself over Suriel’s arm. And what the fuck was Suriel doing, leering down the front of her dress?

  He saw Mairi cuddle into the bastard, saw her look up at him and smile, and rage like he had never felt before shot through him like a bolt of lightning. He couldn’t stand this, watching her with him, especially now, knowing what it was like to feel her clamping around him, sucking his cock in deep.

  In three strides he was at her side, pulling her away from Suriel.

  “Come with me,” he growled.

  She dug the heels of her shoes into the carpet. “I don’t think so.”

  Bran’s mood blackened and he picked her up, carrying her out of the room and to the stairs that led to his bedroom.

  “Put me down,” she yelped, hitting his back with her fists. He did, but then all but dragged her up the stairs before shoving open the bedroom door. He slammed it shut and pressed her against it with his body. He was hot. Hard. And dying for her.

  “If you want it so bad,” he growled, “I’ll give it to you.”

  Roughly, Bran crushed his mouth against Mairi’s, forcing her to accept him, wiping away all traces of Suriel. Moaning, Mairi wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing the mounds of her breasts up against his chest. His body tightened, his cock swelling. Their kiss was unbroken as he crossed the floor and pushed her onto the bed. Her body was restless against his, her fingers clenching in his hair, bringing him closer to her. Bran’s kiss turned more carnal, and Mairi returned it with exuberance, matching his rhythm and allowing her tongue to dance with his.