by JL Madore
I pulled back. “Jade was clear we were not to engage in anything sexual until your wounds heal and all the swelling subsides.”
“Weel,” he said, drawing out the word, his brogue thick, “that might take days or maybe weeks. I cannae wait to lay my hands on ye. I’ve suffered enough.”
He gave my nipple a gentle twist and then rubbed the peak as it rose to his call. My back arched and I was lost to his touch and the glorious scent of his attraction.
“I’m not suggesting any acrobatics but my hands and my mouth work just fine. Let me pleasure ye for a bit. It would do us both good.”
My knees fell open as his hand skimmed down my belly and between my legs. I was powerless against him and he knew it. “Mayhap we should ask Jade first. Surely, intimacy on any level shall stir things best left unstirred.”
His fingers met a warm rush of wet and he shook his head. “Touching ye eases my suffering far more than doctoring. Trust me, mo chridhe. I promise I’ll be fine and swear I’ll tell ye if I’m not.”
My breathing quickened, my pulse kicking up a fuss. I thought about Cameron’s favor for the woman he loved. The woman he would never pleasure again. “For you then,” I said, turning to take his mouth with mine. “To ease what aches.”
He chuckled close to my ear, his thumb beginning a torturous rhythm of rubbing me as the scent of sex filled my senses. “For me, then. Amin mela lle, my sweet Ryanne.”
My eyes rolled closed as he spoke to my soul. Until now, we never exchanged the words, our futures so uncertain. And though they were just words, something inside me awoke—empowered and strengthened.
How did any female survive loving a male this much?
“Aye, Samuel, I love you too.”
THANK YOU FOR READING
I sincerely hope you enjoyed Blind Spirit, book four in the Scourge Survivor series. If you’d like to be kept in the loop on my release dates and receive my newsletter, subscribe here: JLMadore Mailing list
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Book five, Fate’s Journey, will be available on Amazon later this year.
I hope you enjoy them all!
If you’d like to read an excerpt from Fate’s Journey, scroll to the next pages.
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May the Fates be kind,
JL Madore
FATE’S JOURNEY
Samuel’s curse and the blue bolts of magic cracking overhead alerted the assemblage of trouble. Two other Haven wizards joined the assault as they ran through the ruin site toward an iridescent shield. The ground shook with an explosion and I turned to my sisters. Gone.
It struck me that I should dematerialize too but the moment held me captive. A wave of deformed Scourge Raiders invaded like unwanted ants to a picnic. How quickly the sedate hearing transformed into a battle of life and death.
Debris flew. Bodies scrambled. Blood spilled.
Was this their reality? The future awaiting the members of the Realm of the Fair? The promise of violence at any moment?
A Talon warrior with a shaved head and covered in tattoos gripped my elbow and yanked me toward the trees. He seemed unaffected by my station as a Fae Fate, handling me with little care. Or perhaps his lack of concern indicated exactly what he thought of me as a Fae Fate.
Another explosion detonated and the forest spun. The tangle of silk and leather colliding first in the air and then in the brush left me breathless. The weight of the warrior. The impact of the forest floor. The fragility of ribs.
Wolves raced past, teeth bared, their snarls rabid.
I’m not sure if I cried out when I’d been crushed but as my protector got us up and moving again, I know I did. His hold gentled and the dead blackness of his gaze warmed with a sadness which may or may not have been meant for me.
In the next moment, I was handed off to Reign and the connection to my savior severed.
Hours later, after I ensured all was as well as could be expected at Haven, I scattered my molecules and sent them skyward to reform Behind the Veil. As my body rematerialized, I knitted my ribs to right the break and the pain of my injury subsided.
“Zophia, finally,” Zora said as I strode into the Hall of Tapestries. “Where have you been?”
I went directly to the butler stand and poured myself a sparkling punch.
Zinnia glanced up from the destiny bowl she was reading, her frown more grave than usual. “The moment that chaos began, you should have returned. You had no business staying there and making us worry.”
“You had no business staying there at all,” Zana said.
I doubted my half-sisters had done more than notice me absent—and that likely took them an hour—worrying over me was a stretch. “I’m sorry you were concerned. I wanted to hear the outcome of Samuel’s surgery and deliver your deliberation of Abaddon’s hearing claim personally.”
Zora crinkled her nose. “Why do you dote on them so. They’re ants. Plankton really. If you want a pet you could have anything the universe offers.”
I refilled my glass and headed to my station. “They aren’t pets, and they aren’t plankton, they’re people, and several of those people are our family. Extending a polite greeting to Jade, Galan, Lia, and now Samuel, would go a long way in showing the members of the realm that we’re not a bunch of heartless manipulators.”
Lia’s tapestry hung framed in my station. Although I never left tapestries in the open, I figured I must have forgotten to put it away with the stress of the hearing looming. I sent it back to join the others in a gentle breeze. Then, changing the direction of wind flow, I called for the tapestry of the Talon soldier who had risked himself to shield me from the Scourge.
Jade said his Talon name was Savage.
Savage sparked a mysterious curiosity. Mute. Violent. He covered his flesh with black ink and sneered his disdain for the world but something in his ebony stare told me there was far more to the man than antisocial Talon Enforcer.
And who could refute the charms of a good sneer?
“Those immortal nuisances are not our family. Realm bound are bugs. Do I care what the ants in the garden think of us? They are beneath your interests, sister. A collection of nothings who almost got you killed today.”
I laughed and when no tapestry came forth, I upped the demand on the wind and sent the call again. “No one dies from broken ribs. Stop fussing. I’m back and I’m perfectly well.”
“Wrong,” Zinnia said, swiping her fingers through the image of her seeing bowl. “Many people die from broken ribs—punctured lungs, torn aorta, etcetera.”
I gave up on Savage’s tapestry but would resume my search when I could concentrate. “I doubt anyone who succumbed to those injuries were immortal Fates of the Fae Pantheon.”
“Did Jade heal you?”
I shook my head. “I would never jeopardize her pregnancy.”
“Smart,” Zinnia said, checking her hair in the reflection of the destiny waters in her bowl. “Uncle would be furious if something happened to his beloved love child and her welps.”
Zora swiped through the surface of the next image looking bored. “Are you kidding? He’d forgive his precious, Zozo.”
I fought not to roll my eyes.
“Being injured in a vortex of violence is your reward for consorting with mortals. They are weak, corrupt, irrational, and unworthy of free will, the lot of them. Savages.”
I chuckled. “Ironically, it was a warrior named Savage who risked his mortal life to keep me safe. You can’t judge the entire realm by a few malicious people. Remember, the person spearheading the attack today was one of us, not them. Abaddon is Rheagan’s right hand. In a way, our Pantheon is at fault, not the members of the Realm of the Fair.”
Zana, who had been strangely quiet through all this, frowned. “Be mindful you don’t get too involved, sister. A hair’s breadth separates inter
acting and interfering. And then where would you be?”
JL Madore is a romance novelist of many genres: fantasy, paranormal, timeslip historical and contemporary. She loves to twist Alpha heroes and kick-ass heroines into chaotic, hilarious, magical situations and make them work for their Happily Ever After.
JL lives outside Toronto, Canada with her love of over 30 years and a menagerie of family, friends and animals.
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