Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

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Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set Page 313

by Multiple Authors


  “Marisol, we need your poultice,” Zambro whispered. “Please. He can’t. I won’t let him die.”

  “I…I don’t have it with me.” She looked around frantically. “We need to stop the bleeding.” Someone thrust a shirt in her hand. She pressed it on Ty’s wound. The shirt was soaked with blood in a matter of seconds. “Find me mint leaves, mar—marjoram, rosemary, beeswax or honey. Now!” She turned to look at Ty again. “Ty, just hang on.” She knew the men had shifted into wolves, but she didn’t pay much attention to them.

  Ty whined. Blood oozed from the side of his mouth. “It’s okay, Marisol. Share the wine...the wine...with Cal for me.”

  His voice was weak, but Marisol heard him. “What? What wine, Ty?”

  Zambro let out a string of curses. Rodolf held Ty’s head as he wept openly. Callum sat beside her, gripping Ty’s huge paw.

  “We’ll keep the bottle unopened until you’re better, bro.”

  “I don’t believe in fairytales, Cal.”

  “Ty, save your energy.” She rubbed his soft fur. “Where the hell are the leaves?”

  She couldn’t tell how long it took before the shape-shifters came back with the leaves. She didn’t care. All she cared about was that the leaves landed on her lap. “I need a bowl.”

  Someone handed her a helmet. Marisol used the hem of her shirt to wipe it clean before pouring the honey inside. “Callum, please help me cut this in small pieces.”

  Callum quickly tore the leaves. He didn’t say anything, but his actions spoke loudly. He feared for his brother’s life. His hands shook the leaves were landing outside the helmet.

  “Is that it? That’s the secret of this poultice?”

  “That’s no secret.”

  “Those leaves are everywhere?”

  Marisol ignored the murmurs. Ty looked dead and his chest barely moved. She mixed the honey and the leaves. When the ingredients were at the right consistency, she knew it was time to add her blood. Was it really necessary? Were her parents blinded with false belief that her blood could help cure fatal wounds? Why would her parents believe it was so, she had no idea. When she was little, adding blood to the poultice was cool. She didn’t mind the small prick on her fingers. As she got older, she considered the process a secret. One that made her feel different, above others. The secret in itself was power but when she hit adulthood, contributing blood became a tradition. She didn’t ask questions as to whether her blood was necessary or not. Perhaps it had to do with her secret wish that her blood was indeed helping cure wounds. Dad’s poultice helped cure Callum’s wound and stopped him from turning. Would a poultice without her blood work?

  Ty groaned. His body made a spasmodic jerk. The war gods had forged Atos’s sword and hers from the same fire. It was made to kill. “Callum, help me apply this on his wound.”

  Callum nodded. He helped spread the salve then sat back on his heel. “This should work right away. Come on, bro. Hang in there.”

  Ty’s body continued to jerk and more blood came out of his mouth. He was dying.

  “Marisol, I don’t think the poultice is working. It should hurt him. The poultice burns the wound before it started healing. Are you sure about the leaves? Is this the same one that you gave me?”

  Callum was right. When she applied the poultice mixed with her blood on Callum, the effect was right away. “Give me your knife, Callum.”

  “A knife?”

  “Yes. Now!” She practically screamed the last word.

  Callum handed her the most beautiful dagger she had ever seen. “Will this do?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Taking a deep breath, she opened her hand, palm up, and cut it open. She hissed at the sharp sting. Her eyes blurred from tears. “Callum, mix my blood with the rest of the salve. Quick.”

  While she dripped blood into the helmet, Callum stirred the mixture, using his fingers.

  The wound was so deep. Marisol hoped the poultice would work. “Put this on his wound.”

  Callum’s hand shook so badly Zambro had to help him hold the helmet.

  As soon as Callum applied the poultice on Ty’s open flesh, his body lifted off the ground. He growled so loud and long, Marisol’s hair stood on end. And then he quieted. Marisol couldn’t contain her emotions anymore. A sob escaped her mouth.

  Ty’s agony was over.

  ChapterTwenty

  Memories of her father’s casket lowered into the hallowed ground came back without warning as she listened to Zambro give his short prayer for the ones who didn’t survive the fight. Pain, sorrow, regret, and fear swallowed her whole. Her knees buckled from the weight of it. If it weren’t for Callum’s hold on her waist, she would have collapsed on the ground. She collapsed on his chest instead.

  Death was cruel. It took not only the life of the dead, but part of the living, too. For Marisol, a big chunk of her heart broke off and went with her father to his grave. Bits of her heart went to the Midnight Howl members who had fought beside Callum and his brothers. For the sake of humans and for her. It amazed her how the Midnight Howl clan continued to protect the humans, the very same species that cost them their immortality. How could she repay them? She wished the humans knew how lucky they were to have guardians of the night, protecting them without expecting anything in return.

  Her energy was practically zero by the time they got back to the den.

  Marisol sat on the bed, staring at her bandaged hand. She felt refreshed after a long hot shower and relieved to be back in the comfort of the den. Endy met her outside the elevator and welcomed her back using the ancient language. Those who heard them communicate in Gael were surprised, but it was the murmur about her blood that rang in her ears. The secret of the poultice was no more. Tonight, her question about whether she possessed a power like her mother or not was answered. Now she knew. In her blood lay Youven’s DNA.

  It must have been during the time when she was little, helping prepare the poultice, when her mother discovered the potency of her blood. She was helping cut the leaves when she accidentally cut her finger. The blood dripped in the mixture. Her mother didn’t throw the poultice away but saved it. Her mother must have tried it on a wolf and found that it was potent.

  She wiggled her fingers. It was interesting how the poultice could cure other wounds but not her own. Kind of like her mother’s power to see others’ futures, but not hers. Marisol sighed.

  “Does it hurt?”

  Marisol looked up. God, how the shape-shifters could move stealthily was beyond her. “A little.”

  Since the fight, he hadn’t talked to her. He just kept on looking at her with his angry blue eyes. Just like what he was doing right now. She wondered if he’d take her back to her barn. Funny, but thinking about leaving made her feel melancholy.

  She raked his body with her gaze. Now clean from blood, dirt, and grass, she could see the cuts on his body. All were quickly healing, but still visible. Thankfully, Atos’s sword hadn’t hurt him again. When she was at the clinic, waiting for Doctor Yousney to clean her cut, sentinels and women talked about the fight, the brothers’ magnificent fighting skills, how she nagged Victor into taking her to the cemetery, her intervention and bold threat to kill Atos’s woman, and Callum’s last life. A life that he thought worth losing just for her.

  “You’re angry.”

  “And you know why.”

  “I didn’t listen to you, again.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “That’s all right. Be mad at me, but please don’t get mad at Victor. He didn’t want to take me to the cemetery, but he didn’t stand a chance. My persistence and stubbornness wore him out. He wouldn’t have been able to keep me down here anyway.”

  “I’m not mad at Victor. At least not anymore.”

  “Why’d you do it?” she asked, and then lowered her head.

  “Do what?”

  “What do you mean do what?” She realized she snapped the question. Annoyance and irritation quickly spread in her system. Her father would alw
ays guess that she was tired based on her mood. And right now, she was so freaking tired.

  “Victor told me you didn’t get to eat. You were planning on going to Goon’s restaurant when he saw you.”

  “So what? What has my missing dinner got to do with my question?”

  “When a person’s hungry, he or she tends to become snappy.”

  Marisol sighed. “Sorry. I’m hungry and tired. And the remnants of fear still linger in my blood.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about now. Atos will not come after you now, especially after you sent him a small jar of your poultice for Zenaida’s cut.”

  “I’m not worried about me, Callum. You know that.”

  “I know.”

  “So are you going to answer my question? Why did you challenge Atos?” Of course she knew why he did it. Victor had told her, but she wanted to hear it from him.

  “Because he threatened to hurt the humans and...and...he asked that I give him my soul. I can’t do that. My love for my soul is deeper than the sea, beyond life and death. As long as I’m still living and standing, and with my fifth life, I will fight for my soul. And the only way to do that was to challenge Atos.”

  “Your soul?”

  “Yes, love. My soul.”

  Marisol’s heartbeat drummed when she heard the caress in his voice.

  “You love me.”

  “More than you’ll ever know.”

  “Why didn’t you want me to know?”

  “I didn’t want my love to burden you.”

  Marisol got off the bed and stood in front of Callum. A lock of hair had fallen, blocking his left eye. Marisol combed his hair back with her fingers. “Why would your love be a burden?”

  “Baby, I’m a Midnight Howl, a shape-shifter. I often dance with danger. Which is the very reason why I have only one life left in me. If I tell you how much I love you then leave you, how would that make you feel?”

  “And knowing about your love after your death would be easier?” Marisol took his hand in hers and kissed each finger. “I would rather know, even for a second, that you love me than live my life wondering if I’m wrong about your feelings. I love you, Callum. I have only one life, but however short or pathetic it may be, I want to share it with you.”

  “Marisol…”

  Callum grasped her hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed the scar on his shoulder, and inhaled his scent. He was such a beautiful man, possessed with power and a gentle heart.

  “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, Marisol. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one. My mate, my soul.”

  She kept kissing his shoulder, chest, and flat nipples. Callum groaned before he fisted his hand in her hair. He jerked her head back gently, forcing her to look up. For a brief moment, he stared at her before his mouth claimed hers.

  Slowly, Callum urged her to walk backward until the back of her knees touched the bed. “I love you, Marisol,” he whispered again and again. His hands slowly inched inside her shirt, fondled her breasts before pulling the shirt over her head, leaving her in her red panties. “I never knew fear until I saw you at the cemetery with my knucklehead brother and his friends. Don’t do anything like that again, love.”

  “You know I will, Callum, especially if it means saving you.”

  “Dear God. Of all the women in the world, I fell in love with a stubborn one.”

  Marisol grinned. “I love you, too.”

  He lowered her to the bed. His hard body followed, covering her. And then he began kissing every inch of her. Marisol writhed with anticipation. Callum was such a gentle lover. He made her feel like a goddess, one he worshipped in bed. When her body screamed for something wild and fierce, he understood.

  Callum left her to shuck his pants off. She only had a chance to glimpse the size and length of his cock and he was back on top of her, spreading her legs with his knees. Without any sexual fondling or stimulation, he moved in between her legs.

  Callum guided his cock to her entry. Slowly, he penetrated her. She cried from pleasure. He groaned.

  Foreplay wasn’t necessary. Both of them were on fire. She was so aroused their body contact made her shiver. And judging by how Callum’s body tightened, she knew he felt the same way, too.

  Marisol ached. Her breasts were heavy. She wanted all of him. “My love…”

  “Yes?”

  Callum pushed deeper. “You are mine, Marisol. Mine.”

  Marisol tried to concentrate, hearing all the love words she’d wanted to hear from him, but her feelings were so consuming she couldn’t make out some of his words. She wanted to respond, too, but speech was impossible. She let her body do the talking instead.

  She clung to him, raised her legs higher to take more of him in. The bed rocked with Callum’s controlled and yet hard thrusts. Marisol cried from ecstasy.

  Callum gave her more. He shifted so he could suck her breast while his magical finger touched her inside. When he began massaging her flesh, she nearly came apart. She was close, so close to reaching her orgasm, when Callum pulled out.

  “Callum, please.”

  “Yes, baby. You’ll come,” he said in a harsh, yet love-filled tone, while scooting down her body.

  Marisol knew his intent. She gripped his hair in expectation. She didn’t have to wait long. Callum’s hot mouth clamped on her throbbing clit and began to suck. The intensity of her pleasure overcame her body with so much force she bucked. Callum gripped her hips tight and continued to worship her.

  He groaned. She whimpered and panted, seeking release. Marisol moved her ass in a thrusting motion as he made love with his mouth. Her orgasm came, shattering her body in a million pieces with the help of his three fingers he’d forced inside her.

  As soon as her orgasm began to ebb away, Callum crawled back up her body. His eyes were directed at her, while his lips and tongue took turns torturing her body with his licks and kisses.

  “We are one. One heart. One body. One soul.” He slowly eased into her tight sheath, moaning as he did. “I love you,” he said, and then he slammed into her over and over until he shouted her name.

  Warm liquid poured inside her. Marisol hugged Callum tightly. She didn’t want to let go. God, she loved him so much. Having Callum buried deep inside her warmed her heart like a candle glowing in the dark. She wanted this.

  Deep in her consciousness, she thought of her father. This must be what he wanted, too. For her to be happy. To be with Callum.

  “Am I squishing you?”

  “No. I like it when you cover me like this.”

  Callum chuckled while planting kisses on her face. “Everyone’s forming their ideas about why Kyra’s family failed to produce a healing poultice. You want to hear mine?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think they failed because they didn’t have a heart like yours and your mother’s. Anna made the poultice to help us, even though she knew it was too dangerous.”

  “I didn’t know anything about the Blood Robbers or Midnight Howl when I helped make the poultice, and yet it’s potent.”

  “That’s the thing. You didn’t know. Your heart isn’t tainted with evil thoughts, of secret plans to use the poultice to your advantage. When you cut your hand to save my brother, you showed how unselfish you are. A trait, I’m sure, that you inherited from your mother.”

  “If I have to drain my body to save you, I’d do it, Callum.”

  “You made Youven proud.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Heart drumming against her chest, Marisol moved even closer to Callum when they reached the door to Goon’s restaurant. Callum stopped walking, wrapped his arm around her waist, and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

  Knowing Callum was there eased her worry. The reception she’d received at the arena wasn’t something she wanted to experience again. It was obvious the clan didn’t want her here. Aside from the Dyrdeks, Bruce and Watt, Doctor Yousney, and Xavier, who never failed to bring her hot soup an
d warm bread, she hadn’t made any friends since she’d arrived just over a week ago. The women never talked to her and the men…well, sometimes their hatred couldn’t have been clearer. Now they’d all be in Goon’s restaurant for the feast tonight. Just thinking about it gave her a stomach cramp. Marisol adjusted her green dress. The neckline was a bit risqué, but she had only an hour to find something to wear other than a tank top and jeans. The spaghetti-strapped dress was the only simple thing that was available at the store where Callum had taken her. It was snug on the chest and the material clung to her body like a second skin. God, she felt naked.

  “Stop fidgeting, love. You look wonderful.”

  “You’re just saying that. When you saw this dress, all you did was scowl. Victor said that after dinner you said you’d toss this into the fire. I hope I’m not in it when you do. Did you really say that? Of course. Why would Victor lie? Did you see him? He’s so adorable in his sports jacket. I feel naked.”

  ***

  The change of topic didn’t escape him. His lovely Marisol was nervous being around his clan again and he couldn’t blame her. If staying in their room and skipping this feast wouldn’t hurt Goon’s feelings, he wouldn’t place Marisol in this situation. God knows all he wanted—especially after seeing her in this dress— was to toss her back in bed and make slow love with her all night long.

  “Look at me.” He placed his fingers beneath her chin then tilted her head. Marisol’s worried eyes met his. “You’re worrying about nothing. I’m here, love. If you see someone scowl at you, let me know and we’ll leave right away. I doubt anyone will treat you differently now, especially after what you’ve done, what we’ve learned about your power to heal, and your kindness to help another, including an enemy.”

  “My blood isn’t enough to repay you and your clan for what you’ve done to protect us, Callum. I’ll try not to worry so long as you’re beside me.”

  “I love you, Marisol Saint James. You’re my soul, love. I’ll be by your side forever.”

 

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