“Your sister?”
“Nay. The woman with whom I intended to Join.” He turned and looked at her. “And the niece of the man who had raped my twelve-year-old sister.”
Kynthia’s eyes grew wide. “Twelve?” she echoed.
“A mere child,” he repeated. “A babe, really, but old enough to procure a dagger and slip into Korsun Lalor’s room and cut his throat from ear to ear.”
“I am so sorry,” she whispered.
“My only delight after that was in Aisling and the love we shared for one another. Not even my flying gave me the kind of joy it once did for whenever I left Ghaoithe, I could not help but remember what had happened when I had been gone. I worried that something would happen to Aisling.”
“Did it?”
He shook his head. “No. I imagine she lived to be an old woman with dozens of grandchildren clamoring around her knee.” He laughed. “She was a Shanachie, a storyteller who could spin yarns with the best of the bards. There would have been stories flying fast and furious from those pretty lips and her grandchildren would be sitting there mesmerized.”
“Shanachie,” Kynthia said. “What a beautiful word.”
“She was a beautiful woman.”
“You never Joined with her, then.”
“No.”
“Because of the woman whose name you don’t wish to repeat?”
He nodded. “I learned that witch was going to harm Aisling, and I thought to lure her out into space and rid myself of her once and for all.”
“I take it she was bothering you.”
“Everywhere I went she showed up. Every event found her there in attendance. No matter where I turned, she was there. The very sight of her caused my stomach to churn. I loathed her and I feared what she might do if given the chance. I could not endanger Aisling’s life so I climbed aboard The Levant and led that crone out to the very limits of our galaxy.”
“You came here.”
“Not by choice, I didn’t,” he replied. “Fate drew us here and when we landed, I wound up a prisoner on this island and she wound up dead at the hand of my warden.”
“You are a prisoner here?”
He turned to look at her, fusing his gaze with hers. “Do you not know what this place is?” he asked. “Have you not heard the tales?”
“I know it is called the Isle of Uaigneas and I had heard a strange, wild man lived there, but beyond that, I don’t recall hearing anything else.”
“A strange, wild man,” he repeated and grinned. “Aye, that describes me well enough.”
Kynthia sniffed. “I don’t find you strange and you have yet to jump up on the rock and bellow like a bull. Do you swing your arms, pound your chest and make grunting sounds like the apes on Ostara?”
“No, but once every third month I change into a wolf-like being and lope about the island in search of rabbits from which I drink enough blood to satisfy my ungodly hunger.”
Pretending a huge yawn, Kynthia patted her mouth with her hand. “Oh, what a sight that must be.”
“You’ll soon find out,” he said, the smile slipping from his face.
Kynthia started to laugh, but when she saw that he was watching her steadily, his face devoid of all humor she felt a tingle of unease quiver down her spine.
Chapter Five
Galatea glanced up as her niece came into the drawing room. She smiled and laid aside the sampler she was stitching. “You don’t look as though you enjoyed your nap in the pantry.”
“You know I didn’t,” Kynthia grumbled. She poured herself a goblet of her aunt’s sherry and sat down before the roaring fire.
Settling back, Galatea braced her elbows on the arms of her chair, steepled her fingers and rested them under her chin. “Did you search out the handsome brute that made off with your horse?”
“Aye.”
“And did you find him?”
“I found him.”
“A veritable god, isn’t he?”
Kynthia drained the sherry then threw the glass into the fireplace. As the goblet shattered, she turned her angry eyes to her aunt. “You took him against his will.”
“We take them all against their will, Kynthia. Think you they would come here of their own accord?”
“Why did you do it?”
Galatea rolled her eyes. “You know we have been searching for a suitable mate for you and—”
“You took part in the attack against him!” Kynthia accused. “The others, you left for me to send on their way but this one you brutalized.”
“Brutalized?” her aunt said, her eyes wide. “Nay, I did not brutalize that prime specimen. Taunted—perhaps. But brutalized?” She shook her head. “If he says so, he lies.”
Kynthia narrowed her eyes. “You sucked his cock!”
A long sigh came from Galatea. “That I did, and what a big cock it was.” She grinned. “Did you get a look at it?”
“No!” Kynthia lied.
Galatea raised an eyebrow.
“Well, aye, but I wasn’t really looking at it!” her niece admitted.
“What were you looking at, then?”
“A very angry High Warrior!” Kynthia snapped. “And one who saw me change last eve.”
The humor vanished instantly from Galatea’s eyes and she sat straight up in the chair, her hands gripping the arms. “He saw you Transition?” At her niece’s curt nod, the older woman flinched. “This is bad, Kynthia. This is very bad.”
“I am to meet him tonight and get my horse back,” Kynthia told her aunt.
“No!” Galatea denied. She came to her feet in a lithe bound that belied her years. “He’ll have men there and they will try to kill you, Kynthia. You must not meet him!”
“I vowed I would, and I will keep that vow. He’ll be alone.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Aye, but I do,” Kynthia said.
“How?”
Her niece smiled nastily. “Because I bother him.”
* * * * *
Leksi paced the ground from one tall date palm to another and started the trek again. The moon was high overhead, yet the lady for whom he waited had not appeared. He was growing concerned and his pacing increased. Now and again, he glanced over at her horse but the animal was standing placidly, ground-hobbled.
“Where’s your lady, Aeolus?” the warrior asked. “Why isn’t she here?”
The steed bobbed its head up and down, causing the bridle to tinkle. It pawed the ground a few times then lowered its elegant head to munch the oats scattered in front of it.
“Unconcerned about her, eh?” Leksi chuckled.
It was the pricking of the beast’s ears that alerted the warrior to the fact he was no longer alone. Peering into the darkness, he saw a dark shape off to his left. The silhouette was about two and a half feet from ground to tip of a pointed ear. A passing moonbeam lit the silvery gleam of thick fur for a moment then traveled on into the darkness.
“I was beginning to worry, Little One,” Leksi said.
The shape came no closer, but it turned its head and surveyed the surrounding area.
“I am alone.”
“You were,” said an amused voice.
Leksi spun around to find Kynthia standing right behind him. So quietly had she approached, his warrior ears had heard nothing. But his trained eyes flicked back to the animal he thought was the lady and found he was staring into a pair of inquisitive golden eyes.
“I call him Kirkor,” Kynthia said.
“Vigilant,” Leksi responded with the old meaning.
“Aye, for that he is.”
“Your protector, milady?”
“At times. When I am in full Transition, I have joined his pack simply for the thrill of it. To run, to hunt, though I refrain from taking life. It is the challenge of the chase that I find exhilarating. Kirkor is the prime male of his pack and I believe he regards me as one of his own.”
“As a mate?”
Kynthia shook her head. “He has a
mate. I am simply one of the females to him.”
Turning away from the warrior, Kynthia walked to her horse and reached up to stroke the bridge of its nose. “Did you miss me?”
The steed snorted and stretched out his neck to nuzzle his mistress.
“Was he good to you?” A nod of her mount’s head brought a sigh of relief to Kynthia.
“Did you think I would abuse him?” Leksi asked.
“No, but not every male is as respectful of a beast as its owner is,” she replied.
“Not every owner is as respectful of his beast as he should be,” Leksi countered. “I was taught that it is a privilege to possess a stalwart mount and you treat one with consideration.”
Kynthia looked over at the warrior and smiled. “That’s a good thing to learn about you, Leksi Helios.”
That smile brought a similar one to Leksi’s lips, and he dug his hands into the pockets of his breeches. “Why Aeolus?” he asked.
“Because,” Kynthia said, running her hand across the horse’s neck and along its withers, “he is as fleet as the wind and just as strong. He has served me well on many a night.”
“You only come out at night?” he asked.
“Aye, but I am not limited only to the evening. I just prefer it.”
Digging the toe of his boot into the ground as a bashful boy would, the warrior lowered his head and spoke without looking at her.
“Are you not human, milady?”
Kynthia blinked. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
He glanced up at her. “You change,” he said, and even in the moonlight, the blush stained his cheeks.
“Aye, I change, but I am just as human as you.”
Leksi narrowed his eyes and his face took on a look of confusion. “But how is it possible that you become an animal? I thought only the gods and their ladies could do such things.”
“I am a Reaper,” she said. “And Reapers have abilities given to them from a man not of this world.”
“A god.”
“No, not a god, but as close to one as you or I will ever know, I suppose.”
“Reaper,” Leksi repeated. “What is it you harvest?”
Kynthia laughed, and the warrior looked up. The humor was evident on her lovely face and as she pushed a thick strand of silvery hair from her cheek, he sighed with longing.
“I harvest nothing save a cup or two of blood each day to keep me sane,” she answered. “That is the price I pay for all the abilities I possess.”
“What abilities?”
“Keen eyesight and hearing like my lupine counterparts, extraordinary strength and endurance. Healing capabilities far beyond the normal. The ability to live ten times longer than a normal person,” she replied.
“I wouldn’t mind having such abilities,” he said.
Kynthia cocked her head to one side and studied him silently for a moment. “Even if it meant changing as I change?” she questioned.
“Perhaps.”
“It is a very painful thing to Transition,” she told him.
“Life is painful, milady.”
“Not as painful as Transitioning,” she scoffed.
He pulled his hands from his pockets and folded his arms over his chest. “Let me ask you a question.”
She nodded.
“If I had possessed the powers you have when your aunt and her rapists attacked me, would I have been able to fend them off?”
“Easily,” she responded.
“No matter that there were five of them?”
“No matter had there been ten of them.”
He thought about that for a moment. “I believe I would like being a part-time wolf.”
Kynthia snorted. “You think so now, but the reality of change is a bitter road to travel.”
Leksi shrugged. “Would it mean having you to mate if I were to change?”
The smile slipped from Kynthia’s face. “So you can use me whenever the mood struck?”
“So I could make love to you when we were both of a mind to do so?” he offered.
Kynthia came toe-to-toe with him. “Make love to or fuck?”
“Whichever you prefer,” he answered honestly.
“I’ve been fucked,” she spat, her eyes flashing. “The bastard raped me. He hurt me so badly I swore no man would ever touch me again!”
Leksi unfolded his arms and reached out a hand to touch her cheek, surprised when she did not flinch or pull away. Gently, he moved the pad of his thumb under her left eye, tracing the dark shadow that dwelt there.
“Give me his name and I will skin him alive,” the warrior vowed.
Kynthia felt a funny little quiver in her belly at his touch, and his words drove straight to her heart.
“One day,” Cainer Cree had prophesied, “you will meet a man whose hand will start a fire in your loins, milady. His gentlest touch will stoke that fire until it is a blazing inferno only his male potency can extinguish. When you find such a man, hold fast to him for you will know you have found your life-mate.”
“Tell me who he is and he is as good as dead, milady.”
Kynthia mentally shook herself. “No need,” she said, her voice husky. “I killed the Basarabian bastard long ago.”
The warrior put his other hand to her face. “I would slay a hundred dragons for you if you but asked.”
“Dragons don’t exist, Helios,” she sneered.
“There are dragons, and then there are dragons,” he said, gazing deeply into her eyes.
She made no move to stop him as he brought his face to hers and his lips touched her mouth in a soft, fleeting contact that made her heart race. When he drew back—his eyes locked on hers—she felt weak in the knees. Standing so close to him, she could see every little sun wrinkle and shaving nick on his face, and she reached up a finger to touch one spot where he had cut himself just that morning. The fresh scab came away on her finger and a single bead of blood bubbled to the surface. She caught it with her nail then brought it to her mouth.
Leksi groaned softly as his lady flicked out her tongue and tasted his blood. “I would never hurt you,” he swore. “Nor would I ever allow anyone or anything to hurt you. I would cherish you as you deserve to be cherished and I would—”
He got no further for Kynthia threw her arms around him and jerked him to her, her lips closing over his in a hot, passionate possessiveness that made his head reel. His arms went about her waist and held her to him just as tightly. Her mouth was slanted across his, the tip of her tongue darting in and out between his teeth, dueling with his own tongue. Her fingernails were arched against his back and when he lowered his hands to her ass, she jumped, locking her legs around his hips, her ankles crossed behind him.
Leksi pulled his head back, his breath coming in a harsh pant. A throbbing erection was pressing intimately against her belly and when she wiggled against the feeling, he thought he would come.
“Easy, milady. Easy,” he cautioned.
“I want to know what it is my aunt and sisters find so wondrous, warrior,” she said. “I want to…”
He turned with her and walked to a soft, sandy spot where he dropped to his knees with a grunt. Leaning forward, he stretched out atop her, sliding down until his erection was thrusting insistently at the juncture of thighs.
“Feel me, wench,” he said, grinding his hips against her. “Feel my cock aching to slide into you.”
Kynthia shuddered and felt wetness between her legs.
Moving so he was lying along her thigh, he wedged a hand between them then thrust his fingers gently down the waistband of her breeches and found the slickness waiting at her crotch.
“Oh, my god!” Kynthia exclaimed. She arched her hips off the ground and in the doing partially impaled herself upon his questing finger. Digging her nails into his back, she drew in a breath and held it as he slipped his middle finger into her warmth.
She was tight and hot, and sweetly wet as the warrior moved his finger slowly and gently inside her. Thoug
h her nails painfully scored his flesh, he continued to stroke her, drawing from her little moaning sounds that made his shaft as hard as granite.
Whipping her head back and forth, Kynthia was lost in the pleasure invading her lower body. The sensations of heat and pulsing tremors made her nipples ache and she longed to have the warrior’s lips suckling her.
“Suckle me,” she heard herself say, and knew the blood had rushed to her face for she felt as though she had opened the door to a furnace.
Leaning over her, Leksi placed his mouth over the erect peak of one nipple straining the fabric of her blouse. The soft cotton was soon wet as he laved it with his tongue, swirling the tip around and around until he locked his lips over her nipple, stabbing at that sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue then drawing it into his mouth and between his teeth.
Kynthia was panting as though she had been running all out with Kirkor’s pack. The pleasure the warrior was giving her was so intense, so powerful, she was quivering from head to toe. Her hips were off the ground, giving Leksi full possession of her nether region. When he pulled his mouth from her aching breasts, she moaned in frustration.
“Let me love you,” he whispered. “Let me be inside you.”
“Aye,” she managed to acquiesce. She was beyond denying the warrior anything.
At her agreement, he was on his feet, ripping at his clothing as though it were on fire. He was staring down at her, she was staring up at him and when her tongue flicked out to dart across her upper lip, Leksi Helios freed himself from his breeches.
Kynthia’s eyes went wide at the sight of that fully erect member. Thick and long, it appeared a weapon in her sight and she shrank back, fear turning her gray eyes dark. She crossed her arms over her breasts and—though she could not close her legs for he was standing between them—she drew into herself like a frightened child.
“No, milady,” he whispered as he sank down in front of her. “Touch it and know it will not hurt you.”
His hand closed over one of hers and he pulled it downward, feeling her strength and knowing if she had not been willing to allow him, he would not have been able to move that hand. When he closed her fingers around him, he had to steel himself not to shame himself.
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