by Tami Lund
“How are you holding up?” William asked.
She leaned against the counter, swirled the wine in her glass, and contemplated her answer. “I’ve just introduced my Chala to a pack full of horny shifters. We haven’t yet cursed Gavin and brought him back into the fold. Killian is acting as though he had no role in this entire situation. And Brandon and Lily act more like brother and sister than potential lovers.”
William’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Brandon and Lily?”
Prim nodded and took another sip of wine. “I wish I didn’t have to let her go at all, but I know it’s time. I was wrong for trying to force Sydney and Gavin to separate so she could see to her Chala duties, especially when Lily has been more than ready for a very long time now.”
“Yes, but with . . . Brandon?” He sounded confused.
Prim frowned. “Is there something you aren’t telling me, William? As far as I can see, he’s perfect. He’s strong and protective and honest and sincere and he has a considerate streak he isn’t even fully aware of. And that’s all besides the fact that he’s drop-dead gorgeous. His only negative attribute is his issues with cursing, and he’s made great inroads in just a few days.”
“Well, yes, Prim, all of that is true. But I suppose what I don’t understand is why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you try to mate him to your Chala?”
Prim gave him a confused look. “I thought I just explained it to you.”
“No,” William said with a shake of his head. “You just explained why you are in love with him. Which is why I don’t understand why you would want to mate him, out of hundreds of available shifters, to your Chala.”
I am not in love with him. Prim hoped if she said it to herself enough times, she might actually start to believe it. She was a Fate. He was a shifter. A Light One. The perfect mate for the last remaining mateless Chala in the world. They would make beautiful babies together. With Brandon’s stamina, they could single-handedly repopulate the world with Chala and Light Ones. While Sydney and Gavin sought out and destroyed the Rakshasa, Brandon and Lily could set about increasing the population of Light Ones, and humanity would never be threatened again.
Her plan was perfect.
Except it wasn’t. Every time she imagined Lily and Brandon together, her heart clenched, and she felt the most unusual surge of anger toward her Chala. She didn’t want Lily to like Brandon, she realized. And she certainly didn’t want him to like her Chala.
She wanted him for herself.
But that was stupid. She was a Fate. She wasn’t even alive. She couldn’t procreate. She couldn’t give him children, not that she really had any idea if he even wanted them. She would love to raise a few babies herself, but that was naturally impossible. What if Brandon had the same desire? How fair would it be for her to keep him from realizing his dreams?
Besides, all they had in common was really good sex, and who’s to say that wasn’t anything more than a result of the situation? Maybe they had been both so stressed out the release had been welcome, and sweeter than it would have been otherwise. Probably, once they found Gavin and restored his curse, the sex wouldn’t be any good anymore.
Yeah, right.
The sound of the door opening interrupted her musings, and she turned, expecting to find Brandon in the doorway. But it was Killian instead. He stood there, swaying slightly, glowering at her through bloodshot eyes. She could smell the stench of whiskey from across the room. It usually took a great deal for a Fate to get well and truly inebriated. Killian must have drunk the entire bottle of whiskey she could smell on his breath.
She was in the bedroom Sydney had assigned her. It was taupe and olive green and rather drab, but she hadn’t expected much, considering it was Killian’s home. She’d been sorting through her luggage, trying to determine what to unpack and what to leave in her bags. They were only staying here long enough to get Gavin back, and then the pack was heading north, to a seventy-acre homestead owned by a Fate who was one of William’s very dear friends. Unlike Killian, Hilde loved company, and she was more than happy to share her space with the pack.
And when that happened, Prim figured she’d go south, back to her island. And with only Gaya in tow, undoubtedly. Even if Lily and Brandon did not decide to mate, it was well past time for Lily to select a mate. She would not be returning to the island. Prim’s heart gave a little lurch at the thought, and she ruthlessly pushed it away. She did not want to cry in front of Killian. She was still much too angry with him to show any sort of vulnerability in front of him.
“I see you found your Chala safe and sound,” Killian said, his voice slurred. He stumbled across the room toward the bed, where one of Prim’s bags lay open. He lifted a peach toned silk slip and let the cool fabric slide through his fingers.
“Yes,” Prim said shortly. Her fury with the Fate had only increased. First, he’d released Gavin from his curse, then he’d attempted to take advantage of her Chala when he was supposed to be protecting the innocent woman, then he not only refused to accept any responsibility, but he wasn’t even helping the pack prepare in case they were attacked. And now he stood in her bedroom, drunk and touching her intimate apparel. She snatched the slip from his hands.
“I didn’t mean anything by it, you know.” He picked up another piece of clothing and fingered the black lace pushup bra. “I was thinking about you, and I suppose I forgot myself for a moment.”
“Are you referring to the fact that you propositioned my Chala?” Prim said coldly, snatching the contraption out of his hand.
“Yes,” he said, and he picked up another article of clothing. Another slip, this one a red sheer one. He held it up and studied her through the gauzy material. “I’d like to see you in this.” His voice sounded thoughtful, contemplative.
“It will never happen.” She sighed and retrieved her slip. “Go to bed and sleep it off, Killian. You’re exceedingly drunk right now.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “I am. I want you, Prim. Come to bed with me. Let me make love to you. I saw the way you looked at that shifter, but he’s no good for you. Shifters are such . . . animals.” He wrinkled his nose as he said it.
Yes. They are. She was rather fond of animals. Of one animal in particular. She doubted Brandon ever made love, per se. She found she couldn’t find fault in that idea.
“Killian, I’m not sleeping with you. Not tonight. Not ever. I’ve been putting you off for centuries. When will you finally take the hint?”
He scowled. “Don’t tell me you actually slept with him? That’s disgusting.”
“Chala do it all the time,” she pointed out. “It’s our job to ensure they do, as a matter of fact.”
“Chala are different,” Killian said with a wave of his hand. “They have to, in order to reproduce. If they didn’t sleep with Light Ones, the population would disappear. Although sometimes I wonder if that wouldn’t be the best thing anyway.”
“If the Light Ones disappeared, so too would the humans, eventually. And what sort of world would we live in, if the Rakshasa were the dominant species?”
Killian scowled. “The whole lot of ‘em should just go to hell and rot there.”
“The Rakshasa?”
“All of them. Every blasted shifter—every kind, every species—all of them.”
Prim cocked her head and regarded him for a few moments. “Why do you hate your job so, Killian? What happened to you, to make you this way?”
His scowl deepened. “Stupid animals. How do you think I died?” He flapped his hand at the window. “We were dining outside. Lovely evening. My parents, my sister, her new husband, my betrothed and I. My sister had only been married a few months, had just announced she was with child. My parents were thrilled. Their first grandchild. Everyone was hoping for a boy, except my sister. She wanted a
girl.
“I remember my betrothed had taken my sister’s side. Said she wanted her to have a girl, too. Said she planned to go home that very evening and start sewing a dress. I hadn’t known my betrothed long, but I had already come to care for her. She was beautiful and charming, and adored my family. That had been so important to me, knowing she cared for my family. Because they were my world.”
He paused, and Prim watched his facial features change as he relived that date in his mind. Killian was one of the oldest Fates she knew, so these memories had to be in the far recesses of his mind. Yet he recalled them with crystal clarity.
“And then we were attacked. By a pack of Rakshasa. I watched them slaughter my entire family. I was the last to die. My entire family, my bloodline, my future, my life, wiped out in a matter of minutes, by a pack of damned heathen animals.” He spat the last word, as if he disliked even saying it.
“I’m so sorry, Killian,” Prim said, and she genuinely was. Rakshasa have preyed on humans for as long as they have existed.
“Hairy, bastardly beasts. I hate them all. Every one of them. I don’t care if they’re dark or light or whatever. A shifter is a shifter and I wish they were all dead.” The venom in Killian’s voice was palpable, and Prim winced.
“Is that why you released Gavin’s curse? Because you wanted him to kill Sydney?”
“No, of course not. I’m still a Fate, aren’t I? Our job is to ensure the Chala mate with Light Ones. She’s a Chala, so therefore she should be with a Light One. It’s how it’s supposed to be done. And the only way she will ever look at one of these other shifters in her pack is if the Rakshasa isn’t around to distract her.”
Prim supposed, if the world were black and white and there was no gray area, Killian’s motives would make sense. But that had never been the case, not even over a thousand years ago, when Fates were first assigned to Chala, when they were created and their job became about ensuring the Chala had mates and were able to create more Chala, more Light Ones. Love had always been a factor. Even when it wasn’t supposed to be.
Always.
“I don’t understand why you don’t see things the way I do,” Killian said abruptly, startling Prim out of her musings. “They’re the reason you’ve lost your Chala. Every one of your Chala—killed. Because of the Rakshasa. You’re going to lose that one, too, mark my words.”
“Don’t say that,” Prim whispered, as the oily tendrils of dark fear wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She was short of breath. The air was becoming heavy, thick. She recognized the beginnings of an episode, and she struggled against it. Something as simple as a conversation with Killian should not have the ability to pull one out of her, but given the amount of stress she’d been under the past few days, it wasn’t really surprising, to be honest. She fought against the darkness, not wanting Killian to realize what was happening to her. If he told the First...
“Why not?” Killian asked, challenging her. “It’s true. She’s vulnerable, now that she’s here, instead of on that island. You should have let me have her, Prim. She would have been satisfied, and she wouldn’t have felt the urge to come here, to meet all these–these animals.”
Prim balked. “She only came here because of you. If you hadn’t attacked her, she never would have left the island. She had no reason to. She was happy and content. And now she’s in danger and going to die!”
Her breath came in short spurts now. She clutched at her throat, as if she could force it to open so she could suck in a deep breath and get her bearings again. Her other hand scrabbled frantically until it found the bedframe, and she clung to it, to help her stay upright.
Please, not in front of Killian. He’ll tell the First. I know he will. Please.
The door flung open, and Brandon strode through, looking positively furious. With one glance at Killian, he adjusted his path, grabbed the Fate by the collar, and bodily tossed him from the room, slamming the door behind him, before heading over to Prim and gathering her into his arms.
“Shh. It’s okay, honey. I’m here. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, but we were wrapping up training, and those guys are pretty pitiful, despite the fact it’s only been a few days. I knew you needed me, and I’m sorry I didn’t drop everything and rush right up here, but it’s okay now. I’ll take care of you. I’ve got you.”
The episode passed. Prim sank into him, relieved for his presence, until something occurred to her. She pushed against his chest and looked up into his face. “You knew I needed you? How? I didn’t need you,” she denied, but she knew it was true. His presence was her anchor to sanity. When the episodes threatened, Brandon managed to keep them at bay. She’d been about to succumb when he walked into the room, and suddenly her mind was clear, the episode gone before it had been able to grab hold, possibly pulling her under forever.
“Whatever,” he said, completely nonplussed. Apparently satisfied that she was now fine, he stripped off his shirt and let it drop to the floor. “I’m going to get one of the guys to watch your door while I grab a quick shower. Don’t leave this room. I refuse to be held responsible if that Fate comes anywhere near you again.” He left as quickly as he’d come.
Prim was so distracted by that exchange, she was still standing in the same place when he returned a short time later, holding his duffle bag in his hand, his blond hair damp and curling at the nape of his neck. He’d pulled his jeans back on, but hadn’t snapped the button. He dropped his duffle bag, lifted her bag off the bed, shed his jeans, and then dropped onto the bed, face down.
“Please give me a backrub,” he begged, his voice muffled by the comforter.
“You’re–You’re nude,” Prim pointed out needlessly.
“Toss me a pair of shorts. I’ll put them on, if you’ll promise to use your magical hands on me.”
“You think my hands are magical?”
“I think you are magical, Prim. And the only thing that’s gotten me through the last few hours is the idea of your hands, working that magic on my back. I’m not above begging. Or bribery. Name your price.”
My Chala, she wanted to say. Despite William’s comments from earlier, she was still convinced Brandon was the best choice for Lily. If she had to give up her Chala, it had to be to someone she could trust to take care of her. To keep her safe. To love her.
Damn. She supposed she was going to have to teach Lily how to give backrubs. But not tonight. Brandon was too vulnerable at the moment. And far too naked. She gathered her skirt around her thighs, climbed onto the bed, and straddled his hips. Hot lust surged through her system as she placed her palms on his lower back and steadily began to knead, working through every single last one of those knots.
“The Fates love me,” he mumbled with a contended sigh.
Unfortunately, by the time she was done, her body thrummed with need and Brandon was sound asleep. She couldn’t really fault him. He’d been through a great deal in the past few days, and he needed his sleep. So she prepared for bed and crawled in next to him, stirring him just enough to get him under the covers. And then she curled herself around his heated, hard body and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 12
Prim moaned. Finally.
“Wake up, honey. I’m betting you want to be fully awake for this.”
“M-mm?” Prim turned her head to the side, her face puckering as she squeezed her eyes closed.
“I promise, you’ll like it.” Brandon bent his head and licked her nipple. Her eyes shot open and she looked down at herself, blinking in confusion.
“Where is my nightie?”
“Over there somewhere,” Brandon murmured, waving his hand as he latched his mouth onto her nipple again. He suckled and Prim arched her back and gasped.
“There we go,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s my girl. Took you long enough to wake up. I strippe
d you and have been fondling your breasts for half an hour now.”
“I thought it was a dream.”
He grinned. “It is. A dream come true.” He pushed up onto his wrists and then bent his elbows enough to be able to kiss her, before straightening his arms again.
“I see you’re feeling better today.”
“Amazingly. I’m sorry I fell asleep on you last night. Whatever you did was magic. I feel like a new man. And I’m about to show you just how appreciative I am.” He bent his elbows and kissed her again. When he tried to straighten, she wrapped her arms around his neck and refused to let him go.
“Show me,” she demanded. “Show me now.”
Brandon chuckled. “My pleasure.” And he set about doing exactly as she demanded.
He was exceedingly appreciative.
As they lay wrapped in each other’s arms enjoying the afterglow, Prim asked, “Brandon, have you ever thought about having children?”
He shrugged. “No.”
“Not at all?”
He shrugged again. “Not at all. I honestly never even considered it. It was never the right time, there was never a woman I was serious enough about to even go down that road. And now that there is, well, you said you can’t. So it doesn’t matter.”
Prim pushed up onto her elbows and looked him in the face. “What did you say?”
He threw her a confused look. “Which part?”
“What do you mean, ‘now that there is?’ What does that mean?” she demanded.