Revolution (The Revelation Series Book 4)

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  My cheeks flush from embarrassment. “Oh. My. God. Asher,” I squeak.

  Fiona smacks his leg with her needle. “Next time, lad, ‘tis gonna be yer behind I swat.”

  Asher laughs and drags me out of the room. “Sorry, Fi, but there is only one woman who is allowed to swat my behind,” he throws over his shoulder, yanking me into the hallway.

  “You seriously need to learn boundaries, Asher,” I chide.

  A few seconds later, he pulls me into a small alcove under the stairs turning us so my back is pressed against the cool wall and we are out of sight.

  “What are you doing?” I ask in a breathy voice.

  Asher gives me a clever grin before pressing into me and parting my legs with his knee. Desire immediately slithers up my spine, like a bolt of electricity. His large fingers circle my wrists, his fingertips rest right above my pulse.

  For a brief moment, I wonder if he can feel how rapidly my heart is racing. Swallowing, my eyes focus on his mouth as the tip of his tongue darts out and wets each perfectly pink lip. It’s been so long since he’s kissed me.

  His hand comes up and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, allowing his fingers to linger on my cheek. The touch causes my skin to tingle. The intensity billows between us, wrapping us in one another. Leaning down, Asher brushes his nose in my hair, pressing light kisses to the side of my head. My lips part as a soft sigh escapes my mouth.

  “Siren?” Asher murmurs.

  “Yes?”

  “Prepare yourself.”

  I pull back and meet his heated gaze. “For what?”

  “To be mine, again.” He levels me with softly glowing irises.

  Asher threads our fingers and pins my hands above my head. Pushing into me, his hips rock against mine, and my eyes flutter at the sensation. Oh. God. The mate mark on my lower back begins to pulse and blood rushes through every part of me.

  My back arches off the wall and all coherent thoughts slip away as Asher captures my mouth with a blindingly savage assault. This kiss is feral and demanding. The kind of kiss that marks and scars you. Releasing my hands, he spins me roughly so my chest is pressed against the wall. Grabbing my wrists again, he lifts and slaps each palm on the wall above my head.

  “Don’t move your hands,” he warns, releasing his hold as his hands slide down my arms and over my body until they reach my shoulders.

  Swiftly, he wraps my hair around his right hand and yanks my head back so he can nip at my neck. I release pathetic whimpers with each small, painful bite. At the same time, his left hand wanders down my back, slowly tugging at my pajama bottoms, lowering them just enough so my mate mark is showing.

  “Fuck, that’s sexy, siren,” he rasps out before dropping to his knees.

  Asher’s fingers find their way to my hips and dig into the flesh, causing my back to bow. Slowly, his tongue traces the outline of his mark, almost sending me into an immediate orgasm. Oh. My. God. At my body’s response, I feel a triumphant smirk on his lips.

  “You, being my mate, is the hottest fucking thing in the world,” he says with his lips still on his mark while my body continues to tremble under his touch.

  Turning me to face him, Asher’s hands lower to the ribbon on my pajama bottoms. Holding my gaze, he slowly undoes the bow, allowing the fabric to fall to the ground. When he sees I’m not wearing panties, an animalist growl releases from the back of his throat.

  His palms slide down my naked thighs, lifting each one of my legs until I’m pinned against the wall, beneath his weight, with both legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

  I grab at his shirt, pulling him closer as our tongues entwine and he aligns our bodies. His skillful hands skate across my body, along my curves, over the arch of my breasts and hips as he rocks against me.

  With one hand pressed on the pulsating mark, his other hand descends between us. Asher’s fingers slide up and down the place I need him the most. They play and tease before sliding unannounced into me in a scissor motion causing me to quickly spasm.

  Pulling his lips away, Asher drops his forehead to mine, allowing us time to catch our breath while his fingers push further between my thighs and cause a delicious friction at a frenzied speed. I clutched onto his shoulders and my body writhes in pleasure.

  “Holy shit, Asher,” I rasp as he continues to brutally assault me, pushing me to the edge.

  “Christ, you’re so fucking wet, siren.” He grunts and smoothly pulls each finger from me.

  Impatiently, his hands find their way to the top of his jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging the fabric down just enough to expose his length. Positioned at my opening, his eyes seek mine as the cool feel of metal hits my sensitive skin. My panting has become almost embarrassing as I cling to Asher’s body.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he demands through ragged breaths across my bruised mouth.

  “I’m yours,” I cry out as he fills me with one solid, harsh thrust.

  “Fuck, siren,” he pants, pulls out, and plunges back into me again.

  My eyes literally roll into the back of my head with the movement. With his chest pressed into mine, I can feel the erratic pace of his heartbeats, matching my own. He picks up a grueling rhythm as his hips slam into me, over and over again. The piercing hits the perfect spot with each thrust.

  Asher isn’t being gentle. He’s punishing me. Drenched in sweat, my body begins to burn with sparks of familiar pleasure from the brutal ecstasy he’s causing. Something like anguish passes over his features as he forces me to look at him.

  The energy between us increases with every one of his movements. My skin begins to slightly glow while our black healing energy swirls around us. Morphing into a tethered ribbon, making us one again.

  “Oh. My. God, Asher,” I pant out in a pathetic and needy voice.

  He buries his face in my neck. “Fuck, siren,” he says on a strangled grunt.

  With one final slam into me, my body shakes in bliss with the full intrusion of him, and waves of pleasure roll through me. His. Mine. Both wrap us up, making us one. Asher exhales a rough groan of his own before becoming rigid. His body jerks and shakes with his release.

  “That was incredible,” I blow out on a long exhale.

  Asher touches his forehead to my shoulder and chuckles.

  “I think it’s safe to say, siren, that you complete my awesomeness.”

  “I beg to differ, gargoyle. The piercing completes your awesomeness,” I retort, tired.

  Lifting his head, Asher flashes his sexy smile. “So you admit, I’m awesome?”

  “At the risk of inflating your already large ego, yeah, Asher. You’re pretty fucking amazing.” I brush the damp hair out of his eyes and smile at him.

  Asher withdraws from me, putting the smallest amount of space between us before carefully placing my legs on the floor. They feel like jelly and it takes me a moment to steady myself. When I finally do, Asher bends down to redress us both. Straightening his spine, he returns the favor and brushes the hair off my face with both hands before taking my cheeks into his palms and placing a light kiss across my lips. The gesture is soft and loving.

  “Thank you, pretty boy,” I exhale.

  “For what, siren?”

  “Granting me forgiveness.”

  We hold one another’s stare for a few moments, just basking in the moment of us.

  “Let’s go get cleaned up before Fiona finds us and swats us both, yeah?” he teases.

  I giggle and allow Asher to interlace our fingers and guide me up the stairs. Once we reach the top landing, we run into Keegan, who looks unhappy.

  “A word, Asher,” he says coolly.

  “Eve and I were just—,” Asher begins but Keegan interjects.

  “It’s important,” Keegan states, using his military stance.

  Asher dips his chin once and turns to me. “I’ll be along shortly, siren.”

  “Alright,” I agree because I’m too spent to put up a fight.

  Leaving Asher to deal
with Keegan’s unreadable tone, I make my way into my suite and head into the shower. I stand under the hot liquid until my fingers begin to prune then towel off and pick up the dark grey Property of London shirt that Asher must have left. Bringing it up to my nose, I inhale his scent, smoky wood and leather, and a small smile graces my lips.

  A throat being cleared pulls me out of my Asher haze. Mortification creeps on my cheeks as I meet Asher’s amused irises. Crap. He caught me sniffing his shirt like an obsessed stalker, again.

  “I was just, um. Don’t you ever knock?” I narrow my eyes at him.

  His laugh is deep and rich. “I guess we’ve come full circle then, siren. You smelling my shirt again?” The damn gargoyle’s grin is sinful.

  I fold my arms and push my shoulders back. “Maybe I was just seeing if it was clean.”

  Asher strides to me with no pretense in his expression. It’s full of possession. “I don’t knock, because you’re mine. Therefore, I have the right to be where you are. And it’s clean.”

  My gaze slides to Asher’s face. “You’re so cocky.”

  “I didn’t hear you complain about my cock-yness a few moments ago, siren,” he answers.

  I notice his hair is wet. He must have showered in his room. Studying every striking angle of his face, I realize he’s everything a girl should steer clear of, but his darkness calls to me.

  “Do you need help getting dressed?” he teases.

  “I think I’ve got it. Thanks.”

  “Alright then. No protector needed to dress. Good to know, siren.” He chuckles and leaves the bathroom. God, we really have come full circle.

  ***

  The steam from my mug drifts to my nose and I breath in the earthy aroma of my coffee. For the first time all week, the house is peaceful, quiet. Even Fiona is sleeping in today. I stare out the French doors off the breakfast sitting area and into the gardens.

  The last time I was in Wiltshire, the grounds were covered in a light layer of fresh snow. Today, rays of sunlight angle through the lush leaves, swaying in the breeze on the full trees, and beaming off the canopy of deep purples and pinks peeking out of the green.

  My mind drifts to my mother, and a small pang of sadness descends. Her affection for flowers and plants is almost as strong as her love for me. It’s in this moment I’m reminded of why I’m here. What I’m willing to protect, no matter the cost.

  Swallowing the last sip of my caffeine, I move back to the counter to pour myself another cup, only to be startled at the sound of heavy footsteps. I turn and see Asher’s tense expression as he rounds the kitchen island and prowls toward me.

  I still in confusion as he strides at me like a man on a mission. Once in front of me, Asher crowds me, pushing my body further into the countertop before burying his hands in my hair. He dips his head so his mouth is nearly brushing mine when he speaks.

  “You weren’t there when I woke up.” His voice is edgy.

  “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful,” I answer. “Do you want coffee?”

  In an instant, Asher’s lips crash to mine. His kiss is bruising and insistent, and my thoughts become foggy as lust runs through my veins. Just as quickly as his attack began, he pulls away, breathing heavily against my mouth, collecting himself. What in the…

  The distress that was wound through his muscles a moment ago seems to ease as he runs a hand through his messy morning hair. “Next time, siren, wake me.”

  My eyes narrow in speculation at his off tone. “Ash, I’m not going to disappear again.”

  His sad eyes slide to the gardens and then back to me. Without thinking, I take his face between my palms, forcing him to look at me. “I’m here. With you. Forever. I swear.”

  Swallowing with difficulty, he nods and exhales.

  “Now that we’ve reached an understanding, do you want coffee?” I ask, smiling.

  A soft, relieved sigh releases from him and his eyes fix on the curve of my lips. “Yes, I want coffee,” he whispers. “God, all I want is your coffee, forever, siren.”

  “Wow, cutie, you must have some magical Arabica beans,” Callan jokes from the doorway before making his way over to us. He’s wearing a light blue t-shirt that says I’m Grumpy because you’re Dopey. I raise a questioning glance to the adorable gargoyle.

  He shrugs. “Abby bought it for me on our last trip to Disney.”

  “I see.” I giggle and pour each protector a steaming mug.

  “Keegan told me he hasn’t been able to connect with Priestess Arabella to request an audience. I have to say, Ash, it’s odd that we haven’t been able to reach anyone from that realm,” Callan says and takes a thoughtful sip.

  My body goes rigid at Callan’s statement. “Is that what Keegan wanted to discuss with you last night?” I ask Asher in a low tone.

  “Yeah, siren. It is,” Asher responds before rubbing his face in agitation.

  “Something isn’t right, Ash. I can feel it,” I say.

  Asher looks at me pensively. “Then we go, uninvited.”

  12 A Realm Falls

  THE SHADOWY COLORS OF THE ETERNAL FOREST morph into a toiling mess of beauty and contradiction. An odd stillness clings to the dark, arched canopy of black bark protecting the leafless, tall trees. The patchwork of bare twigs shields us from the endless evening sky.

  Small slivers of silver and blue moonlight cut through the lifeless boughs. My boots sink into the damp, black soil under the exotic, low-lying plant life. Asher takes a step forward, placing his hands on my shoulders before leaning to my ear.

  “You all right, siren?” he asks with concern. “Are you out of sorts at all?” he asks, referring to our stone state realm jump. It’s the only way we can enter this land and normally it leaves a sense of unease and dizziness.

  I shake my head. “I’m fine this time,” I whisper, staring at the pools of water.

  Unlike the last time we were in this realm, there are no layers of smoke coming off the top and it’s not glowing.

  “Hey, the water, it’s not steaming,” I point out to the group.

  Gage walks over and dips his fingers into the clear jade liquid. “It’s ice cold.”

  Asher laces our fingers together and directs me toward the pathway on the left, away from the one that leads us to the trolls. “Stay close,” he orders.

  We follow Nassa, Gage, Abby and Callan with quiet, guarded steps. I attempt to avoid the olive green, scaly, serpentine rocks lining the toxic dirt.

  “It’s too quiet,” Abby says with a nervous edge lining her voice. “I don’t hear the shadow warriors,” she says, meeting Callan’s worried expression.

  We stop walking and just listen. Our stillness is met with silence. The hissing sounds of the priestesses’ protective army that normally hide in the shadows are nonexistent.

  “We’re here uninvited. By now, the serpents should be all over us,” Callan states.

  Asher releases my hand, stepping closer to the dark forest. I can feel his dark energy searching the shadows for the sentinels. Disappointment and slight fear fill his eyes when he turns back to us.

  “Nothing,” he says. “We need to alert the priestesses of the security breach. Our presence in the realm also needs to be announced since we’re here without invitation.”

  “Nassa can send Noir ahead to the temple. The bird will get word of the breach and our attendance before we arrive by foot,” Gage suggests. “That okay, buttercup?”

  The sorceress nods, her black and purple hair falling over her petite shoulders. She holds out her palm as Noir rests on it. Leaning in, Nassa whispers something in Latin before the black familiar blinks in understanding and takes off. The firm beat of the birds’ flapping wings is the only sound echoing in the realm.

  “Everyone on guard. Something is most definitely off and we still have a bit of a hike,” Asher commands.

  “Wait, let me put us under a protection spell,” Nassa rasps before chanting in a low murmur. A few moments later, she meets Asher’s
gaze. “It’s done.”

  “Thank you, sorceress,” my protector says in the tone he uses when he’s in prince mode.

  “Let’s roll.” Callan walks in front of the group, leading us on our continued journey.

  Hours later, we come to the small opening within the inky forest that frames the Grecian Temple of The Seven High Priestesses. The full moon is sitting low to the ground, under the dark canopy of the forest. The bright orb appears to be larger than life this evening. The silver streams of the celestial body reflect off the white marble stone, revealing the luminous sanctuary to us through the darkness that surrounds it.

  The urns, normally lit with fire, are empty. For some reason, the sight of the gold containers, without warmth alive in them, sends chills down my spine.

  “Oh shit,” Callan exhales as all of us turn our attention to what he’s looking at.

  On the ground, in front of the temple’s first stone step, is Krea. The white owl’s neck has been snapped and its eyes are rolled back into its head. My stomach heaves at the sight of the priestess’ companion lying lifelessly. Its snow-white plumes, a stark contrast to the black soil.

  Moving to the animal’s side, I kneel down next to it and allow my fingers to lightly caress the soft feathers of its unmoving wings. At my touch, a sharp pain shoots through me, forcing my eyes to squeeze closed to alleviate the pain. When I reopen them, I’m in a vision.

  Perched on a marble step of the temple, I see Noir. The black crow caws at me and shifts its head from side to side in forewarning. I shake my head, not understanding, while the bird flaps its elegant wings in an irritated manner.

  Still on my knees, my eyes flutter as soft grey snowflakes land on my eyelashes. I lift my head up to the sky to be greeted by millions of the gently falling flakes before running my hand over the covered ground.

  I lift the soft flecks and rub them between my fingers. It’s then I realize it’s not snow descending from the sky. It’s ashes.

  When I raise my gaze to the temple again, the crow is gone.