Dark Alpha's Demand

by Donna Grant

Neve cupped Talin’s face. “You know the rules. You know what has to be done.”

  “Nay. I don’t,” Talin said.

  “You do,” she insisted. Neve gave a firm shake of her head when Talin was about to continue arguing. “No. I won’t have you end up like Bran.”

  “Whoa, there,” Rhi said holding up hands. “Let’s put the brakes on for a sec while someone catches me up on what the feck you’re talking about.”

  Neve smiled through her watery eyes as she stared at Talin, wanting to remember every detail of his face. Then she said without looking at Rhi, “Leave it.”

  “The hell I will.” The Light Fae craned her head up and around to Cael. “You’re not going to lay a hand on Neve. She’s under my protection.”

  “Which means nothing,” Cael said without any heat.

  Rhi shot him the finger and took hold of Neve. In the next instant, Neve found herself in a lavish room with Atris still in her arms.

  She looked around at the white and gold comforter on the bed with half a dozen pillows of gold in various shapes and sizes. There was a gigantic white and gold shag rug beneath the bed.

  Two beautiful tables sat on either side of the king—sized bed, painted white with glamorous twirls and swirls of gold. A dainty chair with gold arms and legs and a white back and seat sat near a window next to a small, round, white table with a massive bouquet of white flowers.

  A large white vanity with gold knobs on the drawers and gold trim along the edges was accompanied by a white stool. There was a white sofa with white and gold pillows, as well.

  Rhi stood in the middle of the room next to Neve, putting a spell in place. When she finished, she looked down at Neve before she walked to the sofa.

  Neve hadn’t thought much about Rhi’s black pants, black spiked heels, and black and bright pink pinstriped shirt. Until now.

  She didn’t need to ask where they were. Neve might never have been in this room, but she knew the feel of Usaeil’s castle.

  “This is my room,” Rhi said as she curled a foot beneath her and sat. “We’ll be safe here.”

  “It’s pointless. You shouldn’t have interfered.”

  “Tell me why? You obviously love Talin. And he feels the same.”

  That didn’t make Neve feel any better. Yes, she wanted nothing more than for Talin to love her, but she didn’t want him to turn into Bran.

  “Neve?” Rhi pressed.

  She looked down at her brother. “There are rules.”

  “Rules are made to be broken.” Rhi snorted. “Trust me. I’ve broken enough to know.”

  Neve smoothed back Atris’s hair from his brow. “This rule can’t be broken.”

  “This goes back to that Bran character, right?” Rhi bit her lip as she stretched an arm out along the back of the sofa and tapped her foot on the floor. “He broke this rule.”

  “Yes.”

  “And Talin has as well?”

  Neve nodded. She looked up at Rhi. “Talin is needed. He can’t turn into Bran.”

  “So how do the Reapers work?”

  She almost fell into Rhi’s trap, but Neve caught herself in time before she spoke about the group. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ll find out one way or another. Might as well tell me.”

  “I’ve got a favor to ask instead.”

  The curiosity shone brightly in Rhi’s silver eyes. She shoved back her length of black hair over her shoulder. “Fire away.”

  “I don’t want Talin or any of the Reapers to take my life. I request the greatest of the Light Fae to do it. You.”

  Rhi’s mouth went slack. Her brows drew together as she stared, unblinking. “Don’t ask this of me.”

  “But I am.”

  “Neve?”

  She looked down when she heard Atris’s voice. “I’m here.”

  His eyes opened flashing between red and silver. In a heartbeat, Rhi was beside them.

  “Listen to me, Atris,” Rhi said hurriedly. “You have a choice to make. Pick either the light or the dark. You can’t have both.”

  “I . . .” he squeezed his eyes closed. “What happened . . . to me?”

  Neve smoothed her hand along his cheek. “We’ll discuss that later. Look to the light, Atris. Come home to me.”

  His body was racked with pain, bowing in her arms. Neve held him tightly, repeating his name again and again, hoping he would hear her calling him home.

  Finally, he grew still. His body was soaked in sweat. His eyes fluttered open to reveal . . . silver.

  Rhi let out a loud sigh and fell back on her butt. “That was close.”

  “Too close,” Cael said from behind Rhi.

  Neve looked up into Talin’s eyes and knew the time had come.

  Atris was unsteady as he climbed to his feet. He frowned at Talin. “What’s going on? How did I get here?”

  “Easy there, tiger,” Rhi said as she came to stand in front of him and Neve.

  Neve stood and tried to walk around Rhi, but the Light Fae wouldn’t let her. Neve met Cael’s gaze. “I’m not running. Let’s leave. Now.”

  “I agree.” Cael gave a nod to Kyran. But it was Talin who approached her.

  Atris shouted Neve’s name as he pulled her against him. “Talin, tell me why I get the feeling you’re about to hurt my sister? I thought you cared for her.”

  “I do,” Talin said in a voice that broke with emotion.

  Neve turned to face Atris. She had to make her brother understand. “It’s fine. Talin and I have details to work out. Besides, you need to rest.”

  “Details?” he asked, confused.

  She nodded and smiled up at him. If only her parents could know that Bran’s hold hadn’t been as strong as they’d thought. Atris, the pride of the Everwood family, was once more a Light Fae. His brief stint as a Dark—and the things he’d done—would never be spoken of.

  “He’s not going to hurt you?” Atris asked.

  Neve smiled, knowing she wasn’t actually lying when she said, “Talin would never hurt me. You know that.”

  “Because he loves you. And you love him.”

  “Yes.” Neve was thrilled that she was about to be able to leave Atris without him knowing the true reason.

  Before the Reapers took her life, she was going to make sure Talin led Atris to believe that they were living somewhere far away. If she had her way, Atris would never know how she died.

  Or why.

  “You love him,” Atris repeated.

  It was Neve’s turn to frown. There was something different in his voice. His fingers dug into her arms as a cruel smile formed on his face.

  The same time his eyes went red.

  Neve barely registered the pain as the blade sank into her heart.

  Chapter Twenty

  Talin rushed to Neve, catching her before she could hit the ground. He lowered them to the floor. Already, she was gasping for breath. Though he wanted to kill Atris, Talin let the others attempt to catch him while he held on to the love of his life.

  “Neve,” he whispered and caressed her face. Time was running out, quickly. He swallowed past the lump of emotion in his throat. “I love you. I should’ve told you before.”

  She smiled, but any words she might’ve said were gone as the life faded from her eyes.

  Talin couldn’t move. He held Neve close, unable to believe that Atris had fooled them all and killed his sister. Had it been Bran’s plan all along?

  It had been Talin’s secret hope that Rhi would be able to take Neve somewhere they could never reach her. But he’d known how futile that was. Death could find anyone at any time. There was no hiding from her.

  None of that mattered now. Neve was gone, regardless.

  She hadn’t deserved this. None of her family had. The blame lay with Bran, and Talin was going to make him pay. He wasn’t going to kill Bran quickly. He wanted the son of a bitch to suffer for eternity.

  Kyran put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Talin. Atris
got away.”

  Rhi squatted beside him. “Talin, I know someone who can help. They can bring someone back from the dead. I’ll ask him.”

  There was a shimmer in the air and Death appeared before them. Her midnight locks were loose, hanging to her waist. Her sleeveless gown was solid black with a high neck and a long train.

  “How the hell are all of you getting through my spells?” Rhi demanded, affronted.

  Death turned to Rhi. “It’s not time for us to meet yet.”

  “That’s too fecking bad,” she retorted.

  Rhi was too busy being indignant to realize that Daire had moved behind her. With a wave of Death’s hand, Rhi was unconscious. Daire caught her, lifting her in his arms.

  “She won’t remember anything to do with Reapers when she wakes,” Erith said.

  “Is that wise?” Cael asked. “She’s going to be pissed when she eventually figures it out.”

  “It’s not time,” was Death’s reply. “Daire, take Rhi back to her island.”

  And with that, Daire was gone.

  Talin didn’t bother to hide his anger when he raised his gaze to Death as she squatted before him. “You got what you wanted. Neve is dead.”

  “You’re mistaken if you think I wanted this.”

  He looked into her lavender eyes and snorted. “They’re your rules. You were going to make sure Neve died one way or another.”

  “I didn’t send her brother to betray her, Talin.” Erith held his gaze. “You know that.”

  So he did. He needed an outlet, and that’s exactly what Death was. Someone had to feel the wrath of his pain. Who better, than the one person who could take it?

  Death put her hand atop one of his. “Reapers are chosen when they’ve been betrayed. Neve was betrayed by her brother and Bran.”

  Talin blinked. Was Erith saying what he thought she was saying? It was too much hope for him to deal with if he was wrong.

  “I can bring her back,” Death said.

  Talin squeezed his eyes closed and hugged Neve’s body. “As a Reaper?”

  “It’s the only way you can be with her now.”

  Eternity alone.

  Or an eternity with Neve.

  But to have her as a Reaper taking lives . . . Talin and the others had lived some of that life before Death offered them roles. Neve hadn’t.

  Would she be able to handle it? She was strong mentally, but that didn’t mean she would be up to the challenge of taking lives. It would change her, harden her.

  His sweet, beautiful Neve.

  But to never look into her eyes again. To never hold her hand or feel her body against his. To never hear her laughter—or her cries of pleasure.

  How stupid Talin felt for thinking he could give himself to one such as Neve and walk away when his mission was finished. His heart had known he wouldn’t be able to leave her.

  His brain was just now catching up.

  Yet Bran had taken that choice from him. Bran had taken choices from all of them, but mostly Neve. Talin’s throat tightened as emotion choked him.

  “I leave it in your hands whether I offer the role to Neve. Even if you say yes, she might not,” Erith cautioned.

  “Yes,” Talin said in a rush. “My answer is yes.”

  He knew as soon as the words were out that there hadn’t been another answer for him. It wasn’t because he wanted Neve beside him—although that played a huge role in his decision.

  No, it was because it was time that Neve had her own choice. Whatever that would be, Talin would live with it. No matter how hard it would be.

  Death gave a single nod and lightly squeezed his hand. “Now the choice is in Neve’s hands.”

  Talin remained with Neve in his arms, waiting for Erith to talk to Neve’s soul as she’d done with Jordyn. But Death had other ideas.

  “When I came to each of you, you were alone. It’ll be the same with Neve,” Erith said softly.

  Kyran came up beside him. “Talin.”

  He loosened his hold on Neve. Quick as a flash, Death was gone with Neve. Talin ran a hand through his hair. When he looked down, he saw Neve’s blood all over his shirt, mixing with his own and that of the Dark.

  Blood. So much blood.

  His life was bloody and hard. He saw death and fought evil daily. It wore away at his soul, chipping away one millimeter at a time.

  How much longer until he turned out like Fintan?

  Neve had shone a light upon his world that he’d forgotten existed. Reapers lived whatever life they wanted when they weren’t hunting for Death, but it was the hunting, the killing that had dimmed the light within him.

  With Neve, she reminded him of who he’d been, of the Fae who had been proud and hopeful. Talin had been Death’s executioner for so many thousands of years, he’d forgotten who he was.

  “Neve loves you,” Kyran said. “She’ll choose to be a Reaper.”

  Fintan nodded as he walked around the room. “There’s no denying Neve’s feelings.”

  “They’re right,” Cael said as he came up on Talin’s other side.

  Talin drew in a deep breath. “Being a Reaper will destroy Neve. I can’t bear that.”

  “Jordyn doesn’t kill,” Kyran reminded them. “Perhaps Neve won’t either.”

  Cael tensed but didn’t reply.

  Talin turned his head to look at Kyran. River wasn’t a Reaper. She carried Kyran’s child, and Death had given her a place with the Reapers so she could become Kyran’s.

  Would the same chance have been given to Neve had Talin gotten her with child? Would Death do the same with Neve as she had with Jordyn and not make her kill?

  Talin knew the answer—no.

  It all came down to the others being half—Fae, and Neve being a Light. There must be a reason for the difference, but he had yet to figure it out.

  And it pissed him off. His anger grew, expanded.

  “Why?” he asked the room. “Why is Death treating Neve differently than the others? Why are the half—Fae given more consideration than Fae? Neve lost her family. She had to watch her parents be killed by her own brother. Only to have Atris then kill her. She’s suffered.”

  “So have you,” Fintan pointed out.

  Talin shook off Kyran’s hand on his shoulder. He rose and stalked around the room, his hands balled into fists at his side. “We’re Fae! More concessions shouldn’t go to the half—Fae than one of our own.”

  “The half—Fae are our own,” Kyran said.

  Talin halted, facing his friend. “Really? Why then do the Fae never return for the children that result from a union with a human? Why do the female Fae leave the spawn of a human in the forest, forgetting her indiscretion? Why do the Fae not bring the half—Fae into our world?”

  “Because they have human blood,” Fintan stated.

  “Exactly.” Talin snorted, his fury building. “Neve was going to be killed because she figured out who we were. She figured it out because her family was taken and Bran made sure she was pointed in the direction of the Reapers.”

  Cael nodded, his voice reassuring as he said, “I know.”

  “Rhi knows. She’s seen. But Death doesn’t kill her. Why? Because there are plans for Rhi? Why aren’t there plans for Neve?”

  He was shouting by the end of it, but Talin couldn’t help it. It wasn’t fair that everything had been stacked against Neve. She’d more than proven her worth as Jordyn had. But Jordyn was half—Fae, so apparently, that gave her something more than Neve.

  His gorgeous, wonderful Neve.

  The room was silent. Talin needed some time alone. He was too angry to be around anyone else. He teleported out of Usaeil’s castle, out of Ireland altogether.

  He found himself on a mountain in the middle of the Highlands. Snow fell in thick sheets. It was piled along the rocky slopes.

  It wasn’t until he turned around and saw the man behind him that he realized where he had inadvertently taken himself—Dreagan.

  Chapter Twenty—one
/>   Neve.

  She opened her eyes and blinked. Neve found herself looking up at brilliant blue skies and towering trees with birds of all shapes and colors flying around.

  Neve sat up, confused when she found herself on the ground. She looked down to find that blood still covered her white dress. So she hadn’t imagined Atris stabbing her.

  And her death.

  She drew in a deep breath. When she raised her gaze, a dragonfly buzzed around her before weaving within stalks of flowers that seemed to reach heaven itself.

  Neve climbed to her feet and followed the dragonfly with its brilliant green and gold wings. The journey took her through lush plants and more vibrantly colored flowers than she’d ever seen before.

  It was paradise.

  Neve’s feet halted when she saw the dragonfly land on the shoulder of a petite woman with coal—black hair that hung in glorious waves to her back.

  Large, unique, lavender eyes watched Neve in a face too beautiful for words. And Neve had seen a lot of beauty as a Fae. Yet this woman put all of them to shame.

  In contrast to the bright colors and life all around her, the woman was dressed in a magnificent gown of solid black. The skirts were full, but the edges didn’t touch the ground. In fact, it looked like she was . . . floating.

  Neve frowned as she let her gaze roam back up the dress. That’s when she noticed there was a black paisley design a shade lighter on the black material. The bodice rose up to her neck but was sleeveless. The gown showed the woman’s tiny waist and voluptuous curves.

  “Who are you?”

  “Death,” the woman answered in a voice as soft and melodic as the breeze.

  Neve cocked her head to the side. “Death?”

  “Is it so hard to believe?”

  “A little.”

  Death smiled, transforming her stunning face into one that left even Neve breathless. “Most assume Death is a man. I love to see reactions.”

  “What am I doing here?”

  The smile dimmed. “I’m sorry about what happened. I’m sorry Bran pulled you into this war he began. It’s my fault. I should’ve killed him, but I wanted him to suffer for breaking my rules and turning against the other Reapers. So I threw him in the Netherworld.”

  “He escaped.”