Dark Alpha's Lover

by Donna Grant

  Hours passed as Light and Dark came to have a look at Catriona. Even after all the lights were out and the mortal had found her bed for the night, the Fae still milled about in curiosity.

  It was an hour before dawn when the last of the Fae left. Fintan had observed it all. Even as the sky began to lighten, he remained. So it was no surprise when he felt a presence near him.

  He glanced over and met the dark silver eyes of the leader of the Reapers. “Cael,” he said.

  One of the gifts granted to them when they’d become Reapers was the ability to remain veiled for as long as they wanted. It also allowed them to see other Reapers when veiled, something no other Fae could do.

  Cael came to stand beside him, looking at Catriona’s cottage. “Your target was dealt with hours ago.”

  “I came across something I found curious.”

  “What’s that?”

  Fintan made the decision not to tell Cael that Catriona had seen him kill his quarry. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to keep that to himself. “A Halfling who draws the interest of every Fae in the city. They’ve watched her house all night.”

  Cael’s brow furrowed as he turned his head to Fintan. “Why?”

  “Bran killed her family. They’re waiting for her to die, too. And they believe we’re responsible for the Halflings’ deaths.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Cael said, flattening his lips for a moment. “Who is this woman?”

  “Catriona Hayes. Apparently, the Fae have visited the family thrice over the years.”

  “Three times?” Cael asked in shock. “That’s unheard of.”

  Fintan leaned a shoulder against the building he stood near and crossed his arms over his chest. “She doesn’t have marks on the door to keep us out.”

  “Perhaps she doesn’t know what she is.”

  “She knows.”

  Thankfully, Cael didn’t ask him how he knew such a thing. “Find out what you can. We need to protect her.”

  Fintan hesitated.

  “What is it?” Cael asked.

  Fintan blew out a breath. “All of the Fae around here know of Catriona and her family. Doesn’t it make sense that Bran would discover that, as well?”

  “She should’ve been his first target,” Cael said with distaste. “You think he knows about her and has chosen not to kill her?”

  “It’s a theory.”

  “It’s a damn good one.” Cael blew out a breath. “She could be a pawn to be used for or against Bran.”

  Fintan wasn’t surprised to hear that Cael wanted to use her as bait for Bran. The thought had crossed his mind, as well. He might have suffered the tug of desire, but it would fade soon enough.

  Bran was more important.

  So was finding Eoghan.

  Chapter Three

  A gnawing, churning sensation that something was about to happen dragged Cat from her slumber. The feeling had been nagging at her ever since she saw the white-haired Fae.

  And it continued to intensify.

  Throwing off the warmth of her covers, she rose and readied for the day. All the while, her mind kept returning to the Fae and his long, white hair. Her dreams had featured him all night, but she never saw his face.

  It was continuously shrouded in shadows.

  But he was always watching her.

  Living among Fae, she’d learned at an early age to listen to her intuition and give those who made her skin crawl with fear a wide berth. Color her shocked to realize she hadn’t felt terror or distress at encountering him.

  Her alarm at seeing him had overshadowed that fact until now. It was enough to put her on edge, which heightened her feeling that something was going to happen.

  She finished her tea and rinsed out her mug, setting it on the counter before she grabbed her coat. Her hand was on the doorknob, but she hesitated. There was a part of her brain that urged her to remain inside.

  She looked around her home. She’d purposefully left off any protection, so staying inside would do no good. If something were coming for her—and she knew it was—she was determined to face it head-on, not cower in the corner in fear.

  No matter the argument her grandfather used, she refused to shield her home. What was the point when she couldn’t use the symbols at work since she served both Fae and humans? The Fae could just as easily get to her there or as she walked to and from her home.

  Cat yanked open the door and stepped outside. A brisk wind hit her, snatching her breath. She closed the door behind her and started toward the café.

  Without meaning to, her gaze locked on the place she’d seen the white-haired Fae. She kept walking, though her mind raced with possibilities of who he might be.

  The most plausible answer was that he’d used glamour to change his hair. The Fae’s natural hair color was either black or black and silver. Anything else was magic.

  That meant he liked to stand out. And he had no problem killing Dark. Which put him in a positive light.

  For the moment.

  It was his sword she was most interested in. She’d never seen a Fae die. In fact, she hadn’t known it was possible to kill one. A blade that could turn them to ash would come in handy to protect her grandfather, as well as herself.

  This early in the morning, there were few people on the streets. She liked the solitude. Once inside the café, she began to prep for the day. Before she knew it, her first customer entered.

  The hours flew by, giving her little time to think about the white-haired Fae or the anxious feelings inside her. When it was finally time to close, she let out an exhausted sigh. Her feet hurt, and she had the beginnings of a headache.

  Yet she hurried home and got into her car, then drove the short distance along the coast to her grandfather’s cottage. The whitewashed house with its bright red door overlooking the beach always brought back such wonderful memories.

  Of a time when there was laughter and love. A time where the future was as bright and beckoning as the sun.

  A time when she had been ignorant of the Fae and the part they played in her family.

  As she drove over the narrow stone bridge and down the winding drive, some of the fears she carried fell away. No sooner had she put the car in park than her grandfather stepped out of the house with his arms open, a welcoming smile in place.

  Cat got out of the vehicle and hurried to him. The feel of his arms around her was comforting. It helped erase the loneliness and gloom of her life. For several minutes, the two remained locked in the embrace.

  Then he kissed her forehead. “I missed you, a stóirín, my little darling.”

  “I missed you, too,” she said and looked up at him.

  His green eyes were clouded with age, but the love that shone there blazed. His red hair was now completely white, and he had big, bushy eyebrows to complement the wrinkles on his face.

  With a wide smile, he said, “Come and tell me how things are.”

  She was ushered into the small house. When she tried to get the coffee ready, he tsked and motioned her to a chair. She smiled and sat, basking in her grandfather doting on her. It was a small request that gave him comfort, and one that reminded her of her childhood.

  “What do you know of a white-haired Fae?” she asked.

  His gaze jerked to her as he set down the mugs on the table. A small frown furrowed his brow. He lowered himself into the chair—slowly because of his age and arthritis—and gave a shake of his head. “You never want to talk of the Fae.”

  It was true. For years, it was all her siblings had wanted to discuss. Knowing they had magic and she didn’t made it difficult for her to want to know about her history with the magical creatures. Yet learn it she had. She’d allowed her siblings to ask the questions, and tucked the answers away.

  “Domhnall and Nora did all the talking for me.”

  He took a sip of coffee heavily laced with sugar. “Did something happen?”

  She knew what he was asking. Had someone come after her? So far, she’
d been left alone, but that was because she didn’t have any magic. To be the only Hayes since the first Halfling not to have any magic was a curse, and yet it was that bane which had kept her alive.

  “I saw something last night,” she explained. “A Dark was running from this white-haired Fae.”

  “Everything I know about the Fae states that their hair is either black or black and silver. I’ve never heard of white. It was probably a glamour.”

  “He killed a Dark.”

  Her grandfather’s brows shot up on his forehead. “Killed, you say?”

  “With a blade that turned the Dark to dust.”

  Her grandfather sat back in his chair and let out a long sigh. “We might have Fae blood running through our veins, but I’ve long suspected that we know next to nothing about them. We know the basics, though, which is more than many others can say.”

  “That weapon could save you.”

  “Us,” her grandfather corrected.

  She waved away his words. Without magic, no one cared about her.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly true. If she had any children, they had the potential to have magic. The thought made her stomach clench in dread. After her childhood, she wouldn’t want to put that burden on her children.

  But that was something her grandfather didn’t need to hear. She took a sip of coffee, then said, “I need to know what kind of blade it was. It might be nothing more than iron. Or a particular metal that we haven’t thought of.”

  “There are tons of legends that say the Fae have an aversion to iron. I can tell you that I’ve seen a Fae hold a piece of iron, and it did nothing.”

  Damn. If only it were that easy. She could’ve picked up a blade from anywhere and used it.

  “Did this white-haired Fae speak to you?” her grandfather asked.

  “No. He looked my way, but he didn’t approach.”

  Her grandfather’s gnarled hand that shook slightly came to rest atop one of hers. “Be careful. You’re all I have left, a stóirín.”

  She saw the sadness in his eyes and decided to change the subject to lighten the mood. She began telling stories of the tourists who came into the café, relaying their antics until he laughed.

  The hour lengthened and she cooked, their conversation never ceasing. When they’d finished dinner, her grandfather went to find his pipe while she cleaned off the table and washed the dishes. Cat wiped her hands on the towel when she was done and turned to find her grandfather in the doorway to his study, watching her.

  “Stay,” he urged.

  It was the same argument every time she visited. She couldn’t hold his anxious gaze for long. “You know it’s better if I don’t.”

  “If they wanted to come for me, they would’ve already.”

  “You’re safe here.”

  “I’d feel better if you were with me and not on your own.”

  She set the towel down and walked to him, taking his hands into hers. “It’s only a matter of time before they come for me. If we’re not together, they might leave you alone.”

  “I’d rather die with you than lose the last member of my family.”

  The sadness in his eyes made her heart clench. “I’m going to find a weapon to use against the Fae, and I’m going to save us both.”

  “If anyone can, it’s you,” he replied with a wink and a forced smile.

  She hadn’t been able to help her parents when they died in a car crash. She hadn’t been able to help either of her siblings, but if it was the very last thing she did, Cat would protect her grandfather.

  “Is grá liom thú.”

  “I love you, too,” she said and kissed his cheek.

  His palm shook as it came to rest against the side of her face. “Perhaps they’ll never come for you. Maybe that’s why you don’t have any magic, a stóirín. Without it, they can’t find you.”

  “Maybe.”

  As she looked into his eyes that hastily looked away, she knew he was lying. But what about? The Fae coming for her? Or her magic?

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him, but she knew he wouldn’t answer, so she decided against it. They’d had a lovely night, and she didn’t want to ruin it by forcing a possible argument. Because once she pushed to know the truth, she wasn’t going to relent until she knew all of it.

  He walked her to the door where she gave him a hug, squeezing him tightly before walking out of the house. She hated leaving, but she knew he was safer away from her.

  “I’ll expect you the day after tomorrow,” he told her.

  She opened her car door and blew him a kiss. “I’ll be here.”

  On the drive home, all the tension that had left while she was at her grandfather’s returned with a vengeance, knotting the muscles of her neck and shoulders. She pulled up to her house, the beams from her headlights catching on a figure in the shadows across the street.

  With her heart thumping wildly, she put the vehicle in park and got out, facing the road. Her gaze went to where she’d seen the individual. For long moments, nothing moved.

  Then, out of the darkness, a shape emerged. He walked slowly toward her wearing a long, black coat that hit him mid-thigh. It wasn’t until he stood beneath the streetlight near her drive that she saw his white hair.

  Her stomach fell to her feet in dread. Was she now looking into the eyes of her killer? Was he the one who’d slain her brother and sister?

  Despite her insides quaking, her intuition wasn’t warning her that she should steer clear of him. Stranger still, she didn’t fear him—only what he represented. And that was enough to make her look for his sword on his body.

  She remained rooted to the spot and lifted her chin, defiance giving her courage. “I won’t run.”

  A white brow quirked as he leaned a hip against the stone wall along the front sidewalk. “Bravery, despite the fear I sense around you.”

  “Get on with it.”

  “Just what do you think I’ve come to do?”

  She began to wonder if he intended to play with her before delivering the killing blow. No matter. She still wouldn’t show him any fear. “You’ve come to kill me.”

  “No.”

  If only she could see his face instead of having the majority of it hidden by shadows. She wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “What do you want, then?”

  A long minute passed while he stood silently. Then he pushed away from the wall and took a step toward her. “To talk.”

  “If I refuse?” It was better to know how far she could push him from the very beginning.

  He shrugged his wide shoulders, the supple leather of his coat moving with him. “Then I leave.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  She was curious as to what he wanted, but she wasn’t at all sure if talking to him was a good idea. Yet, she was all too aware that he could kill her anytime he wished.

  Cat licked her lips, uncertainty giving her pause. Nothing prevented the Fae from entering her house. Nothing would stop him if he wanted to harm her. So why was he asking?

  He stood patiently as she debated. Even when a drizzle began, he didn’t so much as twitch. She was intrigued by him, so much so that it outweighed everything else. With a nod, she turned and walked to the front door.

  Unlocking it, she stepped inside and turned on the lights, wondering if she’d done the right thing. She jumped when the door clicked softly shut behind her. When she whirled around, he stood against the door.

  She got her first real look at the Fae. The sight of him left her breathless. It wasn’t just his hair that was white, but his eyes, as well. A ring of deep red encircled his iris, making them look unholy. His gaze was intense and penetrating.

  Despite the oddity of his coloring, he was mouth-wateringly gorgeous. Though he had an air of despair and sadness about him that made her breath catch.

  An angular jaw seemingly cut from stone, and hollowed cheeks gave him a threatening look. Wide, thin lips were flat in his face
without any laugh lines, and she wondered if his lips had ever lifted in a smile.

  She swallowed as she noted the drops of rain that ran from his coat to drip onto the floor. He kept his gaze on her as he removed the jacket and hung it on a peg.

  Her eyes traveled over him, starting with the black button down that clung to his upper body, showing her the thickness of his chest and displaying his muscular arms. Unable to help herself, she let her eyes move lower to his trim hips and long legs encased in black denim.

  She became aware of the very masculine, very gorgeous specimen who now stood in her home. When she glanced up, his gaze snagged hers. She wasn’t able to look away, and she found she didn’t want to.

  They stared at each other wordlessly. She knew she should be afraid of him, but for some odd reason, she wasn’t. No matter how she searched for an explanation, she couldn’t figure out why. Her misplaced trust might be her downfall in the end.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  His shoulders lifted as he took in a breath. “Fintan.”

  “Fintan,” she repeated. “I’m—”

  “Catriona,” he interrupted her.

  So he knew of her. Of course, he did. She looked down to find her purse still gripped tightly in her fingers. She set it down and shrugged out of her coat, lying it across a chair. Then she turned back to him. “I’ve never seen a Fae like you.”

  “Because there is no other like me.”

  She suspected no truer words had ever been spoken.

  Chapter Four

  Being this near to Catriona put Fintan in an awkward predicament because he wanted to be closer.

  He craved it, longed for it.

  Yearned for it.

  The same lust he’d felt the night before made his blood run hot and caused desire to pound through him now. It blindsided him, consuming him until all he could think about was pulling her against him and tasting her lips.

  What was fekking wrong with him?

  He didn’t desire or long for anything other than the justice he served for Death. And yet, here he was.

  Aching.

  With every beat of his heart that demanded he go to her, his iron will kept him embedded in place. He was rational, calm, and cool in all things.