The Redemption Series

by Melynda Price

  The beast sat obediently at his feet, tail thumping loudly on the ground. Dropping his hand, he absently patted the big boxy head. “Yeah, yeah, it’s good to see you, too. Now, get lost.”

  At his command, Kyro took off at a dead run, no doubt looking for a place to hide since that had always been his verbal cue for the mutt. When he’d been a child, they’d played Hide and Seek together for hours on end. At the unbidden memory, a pang of guilt needled him in knowing the damn animal would obediently wait in hiding for him to either find him or give a shrill whistle of defeat, bidding him to come.

  Growing up in this hell-hole, few things had given him pleasure, but for some unknown reason, that mutt had taken a liking to him. Had that bond not held fast this day, Haden had no doubt he would be dead. Kyro liked no one, except for him, and behaved every bit like the murderous beast he’d been trained to be. It surprised him that after all these years of being away, the animal still remembered him. Had Gahn discovered his friendship with Kyro, he would have killed the beast. The demon had no tolerance for kindness—mercy equaled weakness, and weakness equaled death.

  Shoving aside the gut-churning memories of his youth, and his guilt over abandoning the hound, Haden made his way toward the rear of the castle. It’d been centuries since he used the secret passage, tunneling through the walls and into the dungeons. As a youth, this had been his main method of navigation, sneaking in and out of the Dark Court undetected. He told no one of his discovery, and often hid there with Kyro while fleeing Gahn’s wrath over one thing or another.

  For all Haden knew, the entrance had calcified from disuse and was no longer passable. That’d certainly make things more interesting—and by interesting he meant, complicated and deadly. Guess the only way to know for sure was to find the damn stone that unlocked the secret passage. This was to be a quick in-and-out recon mission to discover whether or not Gahn was in Sheol, and what he was planning to do with Olivia. He wasn’t here to exact his revenge, though given the opportunity to gut the bastard, he’d certainly not pass it up.

  Moving by memory more than sight, the veil of full-moon darkness shrouding Sheol wouldn’t last for long. Soon night would fall, blanketing them in darkness, black as pitch, except for the occasional nimbus of light that would burst forth from a fissure in the ground, lit by a sulfurous fire burning below the earth’s surface.

  He didn’t remember there being so many cracks in the ground before, and traversing the fractures was taking more time than he cared to spend out here in the open. That the ground had become so volatile and unstable, gave Haden pause and he wondered just how much longer Sheol would continue to sustain the Dark Court. Did they realize they were running out of time, and was that desperation motivating Gahn’s relentless bid for Olivia?

  As he crept along the side of the castle, Haden’s foot fell through the fragile earth and he pitched forward before grasping the castle wall to regain his balance. Muttering a curse under his breath, he extracted his leg from the hole which now had hissing sulfurous steam billowing out of it, and continued to make his way to the rear bailey.

  Reaching the back of the castle without further incidence, Haden placed his hands along the cool, clammy stone and began searching for the triangle-shaped rock that would unlock the hidden passage. Were it not for his preternatural sight, he’d be completely screwed. As it was, he could barely make out the stone’s sharp edges in the pervading darkness. Like a blind man reading brail, his fingertips skated over the rocks, pressing in until he found the stone that budged ever so slightly. A soft click sounded from inside the wall and he palmed the fortress, shoving with all his strength.

  The grinding rasp of stone scraped loudly, echoing down the chamber hall. Haden winced at the sound, opening the heavy door just far enough to slip inside. Pushing it closed behind him, he edged out what little ambient light there had been, encasing himself in blinding darkness. Not even his gifted sight could assist him where there was no light to draw from. Haden closed his eyes and focused on his other senses, letting them sharpen as he drew on his ancient memory of the cavern’s twists and turns, navigating through the maze of tunnels.

  As a youth, he’d hidden a torch and a pilfered chunk of flint twenty paces down and on the left. Granted, that had been a long, long time ago, and knowing his luck of late, the damn stone would probably crumble in his hand, but hey, it was worth a try. Counting off half as many steps, as he’d been half the size back then, Haden stopped and felt along the floor for the small dugout he’d carved in the mortar.

  He easily found the hole and retrieved the torch and flint. Striking the stone against the wall, an arch of sparks went flying every direction except his torch. Grumbling a curse, he struck the wall again. This time the sparks caught hold of the aged, pitch-wrapped cloth, and it burst into flame. Haden squinted against the light filling the narrow cavern, and took a moment or two for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, thinking it odd how one’s perception could change so drastically over several centuries.

  When he was a child, these tunnels had seemed immeasurable—long and winding with twists and turns of secret stairwells and passages while, in reality, the distance between the outside door and the dungeon was considerably shorter than he remembered. Up ahead, he could make out the wall’s shadow, and to his right was the stairwell that would lead him to his bedchamber.

  Haden stretched his torch toward the steep stairwell, trying to decide the best way to enter the castle. It was a crapshoot. Either way, getting inside undetected was gonna be damn tricky business.

  Deciding on the dungeon, Haden went to the wall, put his shoulder to the rock, and shoved. With much protest and a lot of groaning, the door finally gave way far enough for Haden to squeeze inside. Holding the torch out in front of him, he passed the first and second cells. Then suddenly, the fine hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle with awareness.

  “Haden…?”

  The raspy voice startled him and Haden swung toward the cell, his torch flickering in the draft of his movement. He thrust the light toward the cell and could barely make out the shadow of a shackled figure slumped against the back wall.

  Stepping closer, he reached between the bars with his torch. The dirt floor was littered with crimson-stained straw, though not nearly enough to prevent the sulfur burns that would eat away at this male’s naked flesh as he sat upon the ground. When the bent head slowly lifted and the demon squinted against the torch’s light, a foul curse tore from Haden’s throat.

  “Fuck…Tyber? Is that you?” It was hard to tell for sure with all the blood and bruises distorting his face. Shit…was that a torc fastened to his neck? “What the hell are you doing down here?”

  Tyber was Gahn’s second in command—his right hand. If that evil son of a bitch ever had a friend, this guy would have been it. Haden stood there a moment, shocked by the disturbing proof of just how far into madness Gahn had descended.

  “I could ask you the same thing. Gahn’s gonna kill you if he finds you here. You know that, right?”

  “Not if I find him first. Speakin’ of the devil, where is Daddy Dearest, anyway?”

  Tyber cast a glance at the ceiling, the slight movement making the length of chain tethering him to the wall rattle sharply. “How the fuck would I know? Does it look like I’m keeping tabs on him these days?”

  “You know, Tyber. You know everything that bastard does—which is, no doubt, why he’s got you cooling your heels down here. If you want my help getting out of here, you’d better start talkin’.”

  “There’s no help for me, Haden. There’s no help for any of us. Gahn isn’t going to be satisfied until he’s destroyed us all. There’s no reasoning with him anymore. You can’t stop him. I certainly couldn’t…”

  So that’s how he earned that iron collar. He disagreed with the Mighty Gahn. Bastard was lucky he hadn’t lost his head—guess Gahn liked him, after all. Tyber’s warning sent the adrenaline flooding through his veins. “What’s he planning, Tyber?
You have to tell me so I can put an end to this before it’s too late.” Haden had zero doubt Olivia’s life depended on it.

  Tyber’s gaze flickered to the right, just over Haden’s shoulder—a subtle and too late warning he had no chance to heed before something solid cracked him over the head. Light burst behind his eyes, pain exploding inside his skull. The torch fell from his hand, brandishing him in total darkness—or perhaps that was unconsciousness rising up swiftly to drag him under. Before he was swept into the sea of oblivion, he could have sworn he heard Tyber’s voice regretfully murmur, “It’s already too late.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The following week passed by in a blur of activity. Olivia had been so busy planning the wedding with Liam, she hardly noticed Haden’s absence—at least that’s what she told herself to assuage her guilt over the way they’d parted. She hadn’t actually believed he’d go—not like that, anyway, without so much as a goodbye. Their abrupt separation left a sour taste in her mouth she couldn’t seem to purge. Perhaps it was her guilt over hurting him, or the lack of closure, that plagued her with these haunting thoughts, but try as she might, she just couldn’t seem to shake the nagging sense that something was wrong.

  Olivia wondered if Liam knew where he was if he was all right, but was loath to ask, for fear he’d get the wrong idea. In the week since he’d left, and maybe before that, Haden had become the proverbial white elephant neither one of them dared to mention. Perhaps it was unhealthy to keep avoiding the issue, but neither one of them seemed particularly excited to pick that scab.

  This is ridiculous, she scolded herself. She should be blissfully happy. Correction, she was blissfully happy—for the most part—if she could just get rid of this gnawing unease clawing at the pit of her stomach. Things couldn’t be better between her and Liam. She loved him with all her heart and cherished every moment they spent together. The passion they shared each night, and often times throughout the day, was simply…amazing. There were no words to describe the pleasure, the connection, they shared. No…this plaguing sense of unease had nothing to do with Liam—with them. But she couldn’t deny that something was wrong.

  Maybe it was the stress of planning a wedding on such short notice that was to blame more than Haden’s absence. She had three weeks left to pull it all together, and the days were flying by faster than she could believe. She wanted to be married before she began to show before she told her friends and family she was pregnant.

  Although the wedding was to be a small affair, and quite different from her first, there was still a lot of planning and coordinating that needed to be done. In fact, she was working diligently to make sure this wedding was exactly the opposite of her would-be nuptials to Mitch, which in itself was stressful, dredging up painful memories of a time she’d rather not relive. Then add in the pregnancy hormones bombarding her, and it was no wonder she was on edge—right?

  “You’re frowning…”

  “What?” Olivia glanced up from her bridal magazine to find Liam watching her with that all-too-perceptive gaze of his.

  “And you’ve been reading the same article for the last twenty minutes.”

  “Have I?”

  He smiled and reached over, tugged the magazine from her hands, and laid it face-down on the coffee table. Turning back, he caged her in his arms and with a predatory gaze, crawled over her, pressing her back into the couch.

  “Yes, you have.” His husky voice sent a shiver of anticipation racing up her spine. Every nerve ending in her body suddenly lit up, becoming aware of him. “I guess I’m feeling a little stressed,” she confessed.

  Holding her with his sapphire gaze that never failed to heat her blood, he lowered his head. Her lips parted in eager anticipation of his kiss, but at the last second, he dodged her mouth, kissing the curve of her neck. A growl of pure male satisfaction rumbled in his chest at her indignant gasp of being denied—a throaty growl she felt all the way to her core. Olivia playfully cuffed his shoulder and laughed. “Tease…”

  Her pulse quickened at his answering chuckle, ripe with masculine deviancy. He nipped the side of her neck and then tongued away the sting, pulling a needy moan from her parted lips as she rucked his shirt up, anxious to feel his muscles turn to steel beneath her touch as he reflexively strained to hold himself back. Perhaps it was habit, born from all those years when he couldn’t touch her without worrying his energy would harm her. Back then, the constant need for control had literally meant the difference between life and death, and old habits die hard. But making love to Liam was like courting a hurricane that fought to govern itself. He was gentle and tender, while at times turning passionate and explosive. She just never knew what she was going to get when he bedded her—a lion or a lamb…though right now, she seemed to have a frisky fox on her hands.

  “Perhaps I might relieve some of your stress…” He kissed his way up to the sensitive spot just below her ear, that secret place he knew drove her mad. Slipping his hand up her shirt, his thumb traced over the rigid peak of her breast, taunting her through the thin lace barrier. Each teasing swipe sent a jolt of electricity right into her core.

  “More like you’ll be adding to it if you intend to keep teasing me,” she grouched playfully. Setting her nails into his back, Olivia squirmed beneath him, pressing against his arousal and taking sadistic pleasure in the knowledge that she wasn’t the only one being blissfully tortured here. “I bet you’ll cave before I do,” she challenged.

  Liam lifted his head, his sapphire gaze locking on hers. Mercy…just the sight of him made her body weep. Arching his brow, a truly wicked grin spread across his handsome face. “Do you, now? Anything goes…?”

  Her pulse quickened as he upped the ante. Perhaps she should have considered the insidious spark in his eyes before answering, or the fact that he easily had a hundred and twenty pounds of muscle on her, but she met his challenge without a second’s hesitation. “Anything goes,” she answered, calling his bluff.

  “Then challenge accepted.” He leapt up from the couch and reached behind his head, yanking off his shirt. Pitching it to the floor, he scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. A bubble of laughter escaped her throat as he charged up the steps, carrying her caveman-style. Oh hell…this was one bet she was sure going to enjoy losing.

  “Liam, that’s cheating!” Olivia complained, tugging at the silk scarves anchoring her to each of the four bedposts. She was panting from the playful fight she’d put into evading his bonds. It was shameful how swiftly and efficiently he’d been able to subdue her. Stripping her as she struggled to get away, and then pinning her down and kissing her senseless while he’d slipped the nooses around her wrists and ankles.

  Now that she was naked and tethered, he stood at the side of the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of low-rise jeans and a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. “It’s not cheating. You said anything goes,” he reminded her.

  “When I said that, it wasn’t bondage I thought you had in mind.” At the thought of what he might do to her, Olivia’s mock affront took on a tone as silken as the scarves he bound her with. Lying here like this, she was completely vulnerable…to his gaze, to his touch…and to her surprise she was quickly warming to the idea as his hungry gaze took on a feral possessiveness that lit up every one of her nerve endings.

  Oh, challenge be damned…she gave up.

  Liam walked around to the foot of the bed, moving with that lithe grace that never failed to remind her he was not of this world. Nothing human could be this beautiful, or this powerful…this amazing. His preternatural eyes never left her naked body. Everywhere they touched felt like a heated caress, especially when they boldly lit and then lingered at the juncture of her thighs.

  As she began to squirm beneath his gaze, he chuckled triumphantly. “What did you have in mind, Olivia?” Arousal added an erotic cadence to his thickening accent, his voice ministering to her ears as pleasurably as his touch soon would.

  No longer was she breathless from
exertion, but rather in anticipation for what he planned to do to her. Where would he touch her first? Would he kiss her senseless, or just descend on her like the tumultuous storm that seemed to be raging inside him? By the hungry look in his sapphire eyes, perhaps he’d just devour her right here and now.

  “I…I can’t seem to remember,” she answered breathlessly.

  A smile tugged at his top lip as he crawled onto the bed and between her parted thighs. On hands and knees, he slowly advanced. What a magnificent sight—muscles bunched and rippling, his wild hair hanging down, obscuring glimpses of his breathtaking face. She moved to reach down, to thread her fingers into that dark silk and guide him to the place she ached, that place she wept for his touch—his kiss…but her arms couldn’t move. The soft bonds held tight and she fisted her hands in frustration, nails digging into her palms.

  Olivia let out a frustrated growl and lifted her hips, coaching him closer. He stopped. She bit her lip to keep from screaming her demands. Placing his hands at her knees, he parted them farther and then dipped his head, placing a kiss inside each thigh, his feral gaze never leaving her pleading one. So close and yet so far…

  “Do you concede to me?”

  His exhaled breath teased her fiery core and she groaned impatiently. She had no doubt the teasing torture would continue until she admitted defeat. “Yes!” she panted, tugging at her bonds. “I give up! Now untie me!” And the moment he did, she was going to jump him for all she was worth. Then they’d see who was the one begging.