Breaking Fate

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

“It will only take a minute. I spoke to Gaia.”

  At the ancient goddess’s name, Blaéz slowly set the teapot aside and met Michael’s unwavering stare. “It could have waited. I have eternity for you all to screw me over.”

  Michael said nothing. His usual annoyance at Blaéz’s determination to flout his rules was a kick in Blaéz’s face. Just as well the Arc had cut out the pity. He didn't need that shit right now. “Just spill, Michael, what is it?”

  “Her verdict is you haven’t broken her rules because you’d already been bound to the demon when she took your allegiance. You had no knowledge of that tie until that first summoning. Since you’ve been through hell and back, literally — several times over — there is no need to prolong your torment with more agony as you still live with your current one.”

  His hand fisted, causing the scabs forming on his knuckles to split and bleed again. “Indeed. From one damnation to another, living eternity without my mate. I would have preferred death.”

  Blaéz picked up the cup and walked out of the silent kitchen. This entire place reminded him of a fucking fast-closing tomb.

  Chapter 32

  Darci leaned back in her armchair, her watery gaze on the iPhone playing more songs from that poignant CD. Knuckles pressed to her lips, she stifled the sobs threatening to escape.

  The door opened. At Blaéz’s almost silent footsteps, she hastily swiped away her tears with the squashed tissues she’d found in her skirt pocket. Struggling for calmness, she glanced over her shoulder as he headed for her. His churning gaze and stiff gait showed the depth of his torment.

  He took his cell and shut it off, then walked around the armchair and sat on the wooden coffee table opposite her, setting a cup of steaming golden liquid beside him — the energy-bolstering tea.

  He didn't speak, just took her hand and played with her engagement ring. The skin on his knuckles was raw and bloody. She freed her fingers, picked up the tissue she’d dropped on the couch, and gently wiped away the mess, her heart breaking for him, for them. “What did you do?”

  “I punched the wall.”

  “Why?”

  “I spoke to The Morrigan. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  He never outright referred to her as his mother. Obviously, he hadn't gotten anywhere with her. “I'm sorry.” She stroked his hair, his head bowed over their clasped hands. “Why do you hate her?”

  “It’s not important.”

  “I think it is. You’ve never spoken of her after that one time. But I see your anger, I feel your pain, and I know she’s hurt you. Tell me.”

  He lifted his gaze to hers. It was still a shock to see the cobalt shade of his irises instead of their former icy pale hue, his healed soul shining through in the vibrant blue.

  “Until I realized I had the same color eyes as hers, I was excited to be favored by the great queen,” he said with biting sarcasm. “She took me, a servant, to squire with her when I passed my twelfth summer. Said I had great potential as a fighter — I’d always gotten into scrapes as a lad. Years later, I realized the joke was on me. I have a twin. Her son, Finnén.”

  “You do?” Darci asked stunned.

  “Yes. Fraternal. Before I was born, she saw my future. Had I remained with her, I would have died before reaching twelve summers. So she bound my powers and gave me away to prevent that. But Finnén didn't care for the attention she showed me — a servant. I was waylaid and beaten often. Soon after, she sent me to her army camps, and away from Finnén. It was a harsh life, but it suited me. It gave me an outlet for my anger. Through the years, she’d stop often at the barracks to see me. In my eighteenth year, I became her Hand, her slayer in her armies and feared by all. Finnén thought I was her lover. More fights took place…”

  Blaéz picked up the tea from beside him and gave it to her. When she’d drunk the cooling herbal liquid with the minty taste, he set it down and continued, “The Morrigan summoned me to the castle soon after another fight, it was the same day I saw Finnén’s and my reflection in a mirror. Of course, Finn could see nothing past his nose. Despite me being dark and he fair, we had the same facial structure. Then it all made sense. I confronted her. She didn't deny it. I demanded she either tell the truth about me or leave me alone. She agreed. The next thing I knew, my powers were unbound and I was reassigned as a protector to the goddess of life.”

  “Why would she do that?” Darci asked, shocked.

  “It seems my destiny would follow me into adulthood. She saw my death on the battlefields, so she altered my fate once again without my knowledge.”

  “Instead, she gave you a worse one,” Darci said.

  His mouth tightened. She reached for his clenched hands. Sometimes in trying too hard to keep the ones you love safe, it’s then the worst damages are caused. Her own ancestors had no idea what their decision would cost her.

  “What about your father?” she asked softly. “Didn't he intervene?”

  “The gods aren’t like mortal parents,” he said, staring at their joined hands. “Not from my experience anyway. Dagda, our sire and the great king, lived elsewhere. He had no interest in her wars, and so he had no idea his mate bore twins. It seems she kept that part secret then handed me over to her trusted servant. To all in the Celtic pantheon, only Finnén is her son.”

  Another wound. Darci clamped down her fury at The Morrigan. “Your eyes are beautiful,” she said instead.

  He shook his head. “I far prefer the colorless ones I had. At least then I would still have you.”

  Pain choked her. She put her arms around him and hugged him tight. “It will be all right,” she whispered. “You have your soul back now. It will get better… and in time you’ll be able to love again—”

  He reeled back in disbelief. “I waited my entire life for you, and you think I will just lope off to find another?” He shoved to his feet, looking like he’d jump out of his skin if he didn't move. He stalked to the fireplace.

  “Blaéz—”

  “No!” He spun around, his expression one of pained fury, like he wanted to punch something again. “Don’t tell me how I should feel, or what I should do! Even when I thought I was siphoning your emotions and using them, they were mine. Mine!”

  She reached a helpless hand out to him then dropped it when he didn't take it. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

  “I won’t. Those law-keepers will finally get their wish.”

  “Blaéz, no!”

  A nerve pulsed hard in his jaw. “If I was dying, and you lived forever, what would you do?”

  “I'm sorry. I-I wasn’t thinking about it that way.” And yet, she didn't want her end for him. Much as it broke her heart it wouldn’t be with her, he deserved happiness.

  He crossed back, dropped to his knees in front of her and gathered her close. His arms wrapping around her waist, he laid his head on her lap. “You loved me when I least deserved it, put up with my shit when I was too fucked up in my thinking. I want all that with you in this life and the next. I want you fighting with me when I’m filled with too much macho-bullcrap and loving me in spite of it.” He looked up, eyes dark with agony. “I can live through Tartarus again, but I cannot bear this life without you in it — don’t leave, a leannan… If it means I have to give you up, fight — live, please…”

  Tears misted her eyes. Unable to ease his pain, because it was the one thing she couldn’t promise him. She was mortal. Death would always be her end. She lowered her head and pressed her lips to his. He captured her mouth in a fierce kiss. With his emotions running so high, she used it, sliding her hands beneath his t-shirt, caressing his taut, scarred back.

  He pulled away, blue eyes wary. “Darci—”

  “Please, Blaéz? I miss you so much.” She missed him, missed the intimacy of them. Since she’d given him back his soul, he hadn’t touched her, instead, he treated her like porcelain, so afraid she’d break.

  “You think I don’t want you. You tire so easily, it tears me up inside this fea
r I have, I touch you and take away whatever time we have left. Christ, I wish you hadn't—” He squeezed his eyes tight, then his lids snapped open. Whatever it was he saw in her gaze, or maybe it was his decision to follow her when her life ended, he finally nodded. “But not here.”

  Blaéz swept her into his arms and carried her through the long corridors up the stairs to the second floor and their quarters. In their bedroom, he set her on the bed.

  Darci reached to unfasten her top, but he stopped her. “Let me.”

  As he undid the buttons, he pressed his lips to every inch of skin he revealed. Sliding her top off, he tossed it aside, then unzipped her skirt and removed it, leaving her in her plain, white cotton underwear. She shivered, the cool air in the bedroom dusting her skin with goose bumps.

  With a wave of his hand, the fire in the hearth roared to life. He moved her to the middle of the lake-size mattress, then he reached for the bottom of his shirt. But this time, she was the one who held him off. “My turn.”

  He lowered his hands, but those deep blue eyes remained on her. She sat up and faced him where he kneeled on the bed. Grasping the hem of his tee, she lifted it off and found herself eye to pec with him, surrounded by miles of lightly tanned muscles. The shirt dropped from her hand. She trailed her fingers down his warm body, tracing the ridges of his abs. Leaning closer, she licked his flat, male nipple. A shudder rippled through him.

  She slid her fingers between his flat belly and jeans. Popped the button and brushed against the top of his erect sex. He wore no underwear. That irresistible bulge beckoned her as she unzipped his fly. His freed cock bumped against her hand, warm and thick, and so tempting. She stroked him, smoothing the blunt head and the wetness there with her thumb.

  He groaned and grasped her hand. “You do that, and I don’t think I can hold out, love.”

  Moving off the bed, his unfastened jeans slid lower, revealing the top of his taut backside. He kicked off his boots, turned around, and gave her a more tantalizing front view as he got rid of his pants.

  Tall, naked and so overwhelmingly beautiful, he came to her. Parting her knees, he kissed her inner thigh and trailed his lips up her hips, across her belly to her chest. Using his body, he eased her back on the covers. She placed a hand on his chest. “No, let me.”

  “Darci—”

  “Please, Blaéz.” She wanted everything with him.

  Inhaling deeply, he dropped on his back but his hands remained on her waist, his fear for her apparent in his tense features and darkening irises. She leaned over and kissed his jaw. Despite his taut expression, his eyes burned with a hunger she’d seen from that very first time she opened her front door. It made her heart expand, her love deepen.

  Darci fought to keep her breathing even, because she knew he’d stop if he thought she was tiring. And God knows she felt like she’d run a mile. Lightly, she ran her fingers down his stomach and circled his navel. Unable to resist the temptation, she wrapped her fingers around his erection. The man was warm silk over steel. She stroked his hard length, lowered her head and licked the top of his sex.

  “Christ.” His grip tightened briefly in her hair. “Come here, love.” He drew her back to him, and kissed her with a tenderness that squeezed her heart. His warmth and scent filling her senses, his touch so gentle, as if she’d been made of spun glass.

  He rolled her on her back and moved between her thighs. His turbulent gaze met hers for a brief, profound second before he kissed her again. His tongue swept inside her mouth, finding and sucking on hers. Deep. Insatiable. Desire unfurled like the dawning sun.

  He made quick work of removing her bra and panties. Breaking their kiss, he drew her nipple into his mouth. She moaned, her blood igniting, arousal flaring higher.

  Moving lower, he spread her thighs and ran his tongue up her cleft. Her breath quickened. Lightly, he lapped her clit before grasping the bundle of nerves with his lips and sucking harder, taking her toward the edge. The shuddering cry he pulled from her echoed in the room. Her thoughts scattered then narrowed, focusing only on him, on his mouth drawing on her most intimate flesh.

  “Blaéz…” she moaned, her legs sliding over his shoulders. She grabbed his head, needing more, needing that push, but he eased back and pressed his lips wet from her arousal on her stomach and moved up her body.

  “I want to be inside you,” he whispered, his tone like gravel. Despite his gentleness, his eyes were a wild, stormy blue of desire — of love. “You need a moment?”

  “No,” she said in a breathless voice. “Just kiss me.”

  Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, and with a languorous lick, he sucked her lower lip and when her tongue touched his upper one, he captured it and deepened the kiss. Reaching between them, he stroked her again, his thumb lightly caressing her clit. The tempest surged once more. She could do nothing but hold on, arching her hips, her nails digging into his forearms.

  Blaéz removed his hand from between her thighs, laced their fingers and pinned them beside her head. As his cock breached her entrance then slid all the way into her, his gaze held hers.

  Her breath caught. The moment so powerful… intense.

  He withdrew then thrust into her in a smooth glide. Her focus lowered to where they were joined and her world centered on the overwhelming pleasure of him moving inside her. As desire built, he quickened his pace, taking her back to the pinnacle.

  He brought her hand between their bodies and worked both their fingers on her clit. Her breath caught at the erotic sensuality of touching herself with him. Desire swelled. Her orgasm surged then erupted in shockwaves through her body as a prism of light coalesced through her, so intense, Darci could do little but let it sweep her along…

  ***

  A need of urgency shot through Blaéz to possess, to meld with her.

  She was his one, his only. He didn't care how short their time together was, there would never be another for him.

  Freeing her hand he’d trapped between their bodies, he drove harder, faster into her. She grasped his forearms and her hips rose to meet his every thrust, her inner muscles clamping around him. His own orgasm rolled down his spine, tightening his groin. Her raspy whimper filled his ears and triggered his release.

  “Christ,” he grunted, impossible pleasure sweeping through him as a luminescent light flooded his entire being, filling him with warmth… with love. And all he could do was hang onto Darci and breathe his life into her.

  After several seconds, minutes, he had no idea which — and feeling a little dazed — Blaéz raised his head but Darci’s eyes were closed. Short breaths escaped between slightly parted lips swollen from his kisses. His heart fisted, his feelings for her engulfing him like a tidal wave.

  Resting on his elbows and keeping most of his weight off her, he kissed her eyes, her nose. Her lips. “I’m insanely in love with you, a leannan.”

  The corners of her mouth curved. Her eyelids flickered open and her dull, hazel-brown eyes smiled back at him.

  At the thought he would never see them, never hold her this way again, grief slid through his heart like a blade, slicing at the brief glow inside him. He eased away from her warmth, lay down beside her and flung an arm over his eyes.

  She shifted and rested her chin on his chest, her hair a tormenting caress on his skin. “What is it?” she asked softly.

  Shaking his head, he pushed off the bed and prowled toward the window, trying to rein his pain. A palm braced on the wall, he stared into the dark night. Seconds later, her warm, naked body pressed against his back. He squeezed his eyes tight as she put her arms around his waist and simply hugged him.

  Pivoting, he pulled her into his arms and he buried his face in her neck.

  She didn't say anything, just held him. After a while, he set her aside and picked up their discarded clothes. He helped her dress before pulling on his jeans. As he zipped up, Blaéz glanced at her. And went motionless.

  In a flash, he closed the small distance between t
hem and cupped her face. Right before his very eyes, he watched the dull brown, yellow and greens of her irises give way to a brighter hue as if her very soul was healing, mending…

  His soul was strengthening hers.

  “Blaéz?”

  He barely heard her, staring into those gorgeous, bright, sunflower-colored eyes once more. He swayed, thought his knees would cave. Darci grabbed his arms. “Blaéz, what is it? You're scaring me.”

  He shook his head to clear the haze. By the heavens, after everything they’d endured, he had to be sure before he said anything. He willed his obsidian dagger — his mate’s dagger back. Nothing. The weapon that could never be stolen, never be given away didn't appear.

  He grasped her shoulders. “Darci, where’s the dagger I gave you?”

  She winced in guilt. “Nora knocked it from my hand when I tried to stab her.”

  No one could claim that weapon permanently, unless it was intrinsically linked to them. The blade had chosen him after Gaia had handed him a range of daggers to select from when he’d first sworn his allegiance to her. It had started to glow the moment he’d touched it.

  Gaia had called it a symbol, the embodiment of his one weakness and ultimate strength. When it fails to return to you, you have found your salvation.

  And Darci was. She was his very heartbeat, his life.

  She picked up a hairgrip from the bedside table. “We can go back there and look for it?”

  “No. Summon it. Use your mind,” he ordered.

  She eyed him skeptically as she fastened her hair into a haphazard topknot and secured it. “Blaéz, you have all those abilities, not me.”

  “Try. For me?”

  “Well, if you think it will help.” She closed her eyes. Tiny lines marred her brow at her intense concentration. Seconds later, in a shimmer, his weapon appeared in her hand, glowing a warm orangey-yellow. She shrieked and jumped back. The blade fell to the floor in a dull clang. A hand on her chest, she glared at the thing like it was a serpent.

  Blaéz laughed and picked up the dagger. Thank the Heavens!