The Darkest Warrior

by Gena Showalter

  This was no ordinary Hulk-out. A strange madness had overcome everyone but Puck. Why not him, too? Indifference? But Gillian had a connection to the demon, as well.

  Puck's magic, perhaps? Still a flaw in his logic. Gillian and William had magic of their own.

  Puck's inborn magic, then? Connacht magic? Something the other two didn't have.

  Exactly. There was only one way to stop this, then.

  The solution unsettled him. So drastic. Maybe he could reason with Gillian and the others instead.

  Worth a shot. Puck leaped at the females, knocking the two apart. They pounced on him, nails slicing into his flesh, teeth biting into his neck. Despite the influx of pain, he did little to defend himself.

  Careful. Must protect Gillian at all cost. But not Pandora. He grabbed the other woman by the hair and flung her into a bank of trees before trapping his wife beneath him.

  She bucked, a wild thing, and tried to rip out his throat. In her eyes, he saw no hint of recognition.

  "Calm down, lass. Breathe for me. In, out. Just--"

  Nails scraped his face, his neck, and pain seared him anew.

  A heavy weight slammed into his back, but failed to budge him. Pandora had returned. She scratched, punched and kicked the most vulnerable parts of him. Rage beneath him, fury atop him. Fun times. He reached overhead, grabbed Hades's daughter by the hair and flung her a second time--at William.

  A distraction. Mistake. Gillian jammed the heel of her palm into his nose, and cartilage snapped. He grunted, battling a brief bout of dizziness. Warm blood poured down his face.

  After kicking and dislodging him, she leaped into a crouch. Her sights zoomed to William, who was shaking his head and howling at the sky, daring her to close the distance; he would not go easy on her.

  "You're staying right here." Puck clasped her ankles and yanked, sending her crashing into the ground face-first. She winced. He winced, hating that he'd caused this precious woman pain.

  When he had her pinned, he said, "Gillian. I know you're in there." She had to be. "Concentrate on me. Think about--"

  She slammed her forehead into his chin, dislocating his jaw. More pain, stars winking before his eyes. And she wasn't done! Arms free, she whaled at his face while bucking and kicking with more force, desperate for freedom.

  Despite his injuries, he rasped, "Gillian, I'm your husband. Remember my kiss, my touch. We are--"

  Lifting her head, she pressed her mouth against his, sucked his tongue into her mouth--and bit off the tip. In seconds, blood filled his mouth, nearly choking him.

  Spit. He used magic to expedite the healing process, his jaw realigning, gashes weaving back together, tongue regenerating.

  "Enough, lass!"

  Again she kicked him, managing to free herself. A mindless state might hold her prisoner, but it hadn't wiped away centuries of training. Then she drew back her leg, broadcasting her intention. She wouldn't. Surely she wouldn't--

  She punted his face.

  All right, then. There'd be no reasoning with her.

  Using superspeed, Puck grabbed her ankle when she made another play for his face, and yanked her off her feet. He pinned her beneath him, wrapped his fingers around her throat and squeezed just hard enough to immobilize her. As he'd done during her Hulk-out, he turned his attention inward, to their bond. This time, he gifted her with a tendril of Connacht magic.

  You didn't have to die to cede magic to others. Not even inborn magic. You could offer it willingly. Though he'd never met anyone keen to do so.

  What would Puck lose, in doing this? His ability to shapeshift? Run at the speed of light? Either way, he'd never get the magic back, unless he killed the ones he shared it with, or they willingly returned it. But Galen and Pandora, whom he would have to brand with runes, wouldn't know how to return it for centuries, and William wouldn't out of spite. Hardly matters. Must help Gillian.

  Her motions slowed, stopped. She peered up at him, wide eyes darkening with horror as her mind cleared. "I attacked you. Oh, Puck. I'm so sorry."

  Relief. Pride. He'd succeeded. "Do you not yet realize I would endure anything to get you into this position?"

  "How did this happen?"

  "Magical illusion. A trap set by Sin, programmed to start whenever we breached a certain point. You believed you were an animal, aye?" At her nod, he said, "The others still do." He stood, helped her to her feet. "If we can pin them, I can feed them Connacht magic." A bond wasn't needed for a gift of magic, only made it easier to give.

  Her eyes widened with horror when she spotted William, Galen and Pandora tangled together, each covered in wounds and soaked in blood.

  Anyone else might have run screaming, but not Gillian. She kept pace at Puck's side and approached the combatants.

  "I'll take William," she said. "You take the other two."

  "He won't recognize you. Might harm you." Then I'll be forced to retaliate.

  She tossed him a quick smile, causing his heart to careen out of sync. "Have more faith in your wife." After withdrawing four daggers--two in each hand--she punted Pandora in the face and elbowed Galen in the jaw.

  As the combatants fell away, Puck struck, pinning Galen to the ground with daggers.

  Movement at the corner of his eye. He paused to watch as Gillian masterfully maneuvered William to his back, and staked his wrists and ankles into the ground. Just boom, boom, boom, boom, and the guy was pinned.

  My woman is skilled.

  Considering William's strength, Puck wasn't sure how long the hold would last. Puck abandoned Galen--for now--placed a hand over William's brow and unleashed the barest tendril of Connacht magic. Just enough. The male ceased fighting, frowned. No time to explain.

  Puck vaulted into Pandora. With her, he had no qualms about using necessary force. After he'd staked her, he reached for a dagger, realized he'd dropped his somewhere along the way. Very well. He palmed hers, quickly carved a rune in her hand and fed her the barest hint of Connacht magic.

  Finally, he turned his sights to Galen. Rune. Connacht magic.

  Done.

  "I thought I'd transformed into a beast," Pandora said, between panting breaths. "Why?"

  Gillian explained the situation while ripping the daggers from William's wrists. Silent, he sat up, freed his ankles, then rubbed wounds already in the process of healing.

  "What if this is only the beginning?" she said. "What comes next might be worse. Which sucks, because we're running low on everything."

  Her fears were not misplaced. Each challenge had proven more difficult than the last.

  "We'll deal," Puck said. They must. They had no other choice.

  *

  They traveled the rest of the day.

  Gillian couldn't keep her eyes off Puck. He'd saved her, saved them all, by sharing his magic. He could have turned into the Ice Man at any point, but he'd chosen to stay with her and, judging by the heated looks he'd been casting her, feel everything. Never had a man appeared more tempestuous. A storm brewed in his eyes and darkened each of his features.

  Time is running out. Don't know what the future holds.

  Need him. Need him now.

  Never had she been more ready for a man's possession. Even now, her heart assaulted her ribs, racing faster and faster. Her nipples ached more than ever before, her belly quivered and the apex of her thighs throbbed.

  Can't have him. Yet. Soon...

  They came upon a pond about an hour before sunset. After setting up camp, everyone took turns bathing to wash away battle blood. Puck first--she wanted to join him, but there was no time--then William, then Pandora and Galen. Finally Gillian stripped and waded into cold water that failed to cool her heated skin.

  She waited...but Puck never showed up. Disappointed, she dried off and dressed in a shirt and short leather skirt for easy access and Puck's torment.

  On edge, on alert and sexually frustrated, she returned to camp. William sat in front of a fire, sharpening his daggers with an almost obsessi
ve concentration. Pandora and Galen lounged beside Puck, peppering him with a million questions about Sin, Amaranthia and magic, but he wasn't in the mood to chat, or even be sociable. His answers were "yes," "no" and "shut up before I cut out your tongue."

  When he spotted Gillian, he gave her a look of such blatant hunger, such palpable desire, she grew dizzy with lust and missed a step, nearly falling flat on her face. Ecstasy beckoned, her body already overly sensitized from hours, days, of anticipation.

  William popped to his feet and muttered, "Father calls." With no more explanation than that, he flashed away.

  Galen and Pandora shared a moment of aggravation before standing.

  "Where he goes, one of us must go," the dark-haired female said.

  "Thankfully, Hades equipped us with a WNS." Galen tapped his temple. "William Navigation System."

  "William will be gone for hours," Pandora said, and wiggled her brows. "I'll make sure of it."

  "Good to know," Puck said. "Make sure you all stay away from the pond, then."

  A blush burned Gillian's cheeks.

  "Aren't desirous of a little light spying, eh?" Galen asked. "Fine. I'll go after William, and I'll make sure he stays away. Pandy cakes, you guard the perimeter. I have a feeling our little lovebirds are about to lose track of everything."

  Pandora snapped her teeth at Pandy cakes. "Come on. Before you lose your favorite appendage." She dragged the winged male away.

  Finally!

  Puck stood, his kohl-rimmed gaze tracing over the curves of Gillian's body. As if he could stand their separation no longer, he advanced on her, all dark and lovely and hot and aggressive. He hefted her over his shoulder in a fireman carry, and carted her away from the campsite.

  Her pulse quickened as his scent enveloped and intoxicated her. "Puck?"

  "This is happening, woman. Best get used to the idea."

  "Um, did you hear a protest from me?"

  "No, but I will hear your agreement."

  "You mean I get all of you, no matter what?" she asked, breathless.

  "Every inch." At the edge of the pond, he set her on her feet.

  Arousal blistered her as she peered up at him. He was pure wicked indulgence, a buffet of sensual delights. Shirtless, his bird tattoo on spectacular display. The one he wouldn't let her touch--yet. Soon I'll touch every inch of him...

  "You want me," he said, framing her face with his hands. "Say it."

  "I want you." Desperately. Madly. Moonlight fought its way through the canopy of trees, stroking him with loving fingers. "We'll have to be quick. The danger..."

  "Quick?" Warm breath caressed her brow as he chuckled. "Impossible, wife. This is our first time. Your first time, period. We will savor every second. If Sin tries anything, I'll sense his magic. I'm prepared now."

  "All right. Okay." How could she resist? "My answer is yes." A thousand times yes.

  Groaning, he fisted a handful of hair at her nape and urged her face to his. "Give me what I've been missing."

  "Always." Their lips met in a heated clash, their tongues twining, dueling. A deep kiss. Reverent. Wild and yet still sweet.

  He kissed her as if his survival depended on it, demanding total surrender. Surrender she happily ceded. Scorching desire swept her up, down, in, out and everywhere in between. Ravenous, they devoured each other. This wasn't an appetizer, but a full-blown meal.

  Never had Gillian known hunger like this. Every cell, every organ, every inch of her craved his possession.

  Puck lowered her onto a bed of moss and maneuvered to his side. With one hand, he cupped her ass--a favorite position? With the other, he palmed her breast and brushed his thumb against the distended crest. Paradise!

  "You been missing me, lass?" The huskiness of his tone--audible porn.

  "Every inch of you." Shivers and heat invaded her bones and when he kneaded her flesh, she would swear he considered her body a temple--would swear he worshipped every inch of her.

  At eighteen, she hadn't been ready for him. At one hundred...two hundred...maybe even four hundred, her issues might have gotten the better of her. After multiple wars and countless trials, battles, friendships and betrayals, hurts and pains, creating a clan and a home, she finally knew what she wanted, and what she needed. For her, everything revolved around Puck Connacht. Warrior prince. Future king. Adored husband. The man who felt everything--for her.

  He deepened the kiss, and she spread her legs, letting his thigh rest between hers. Instant rush! Liquid heat drenched her panties. Unable to remain still, she arched her back, grinding her core against him.

  A whimper escaped. The rush and the pleasure!

  "Puck," she cried.

  "Stop?" he asked, his tone ragged.

  "Don't stop. Ever."

  35

  Gillian slid a hand over Puck's chest...over the bird tattoo. Magic pricked her, rushing up her arm, making her shiver. Well, well. No wonder he hadn't wanted her to touch it. The tattoo meant something. But what?

  Mind too fogged to unravel a mystery.

  "Want me to stop?" she asked, tracing her fingertips over the beautifully detailed wings.

  "Never stop."

  His heartbeat thundered against her palm, racing in sync to hers. The silk and heat of his skin...the glorious cut of solid muscle...the musk of his scent combined with the sweetness of his taste...making me crazed.

  Since his return, she'd felt as if she were burning up, sometimes at a low simmer, most times at a full boil. Ravaged by this newest passion-fever--or rather, this extension of the last one--she arched her back to gyrate against his thigh.

  "That's a good lass," he praised. He kneaded her ass harder, helping her gyrate with more force. "Let's get you nice and primed."

  Already primed, warrior. She'd never been so drenched.

  When he shifted his leg, his thigh grazed her where she ached most. She groaned. He moaned. Every point of contact became electrified, the currents supercharging her arousal.

  How long had this beautiful man been deprived of affection and adoration? Since before his possession? Taken from his mother's arms as a child, forced to fight in his father's armies, punished for anything perceived as a "woman's softness."

  As much as Gillian wanted to take, she wanted to give.

  "Puck," she gasped out, growing more desperate by the second. "I need to touch you, too."

  "Touch me, then. Please."

  Brimming with eagerness, she lifted her head to watch his face as she delved her hand beneath the waist of his pants. Though she had little experience, she faked confidence and wrapped her fingers around his erection.

  "Tell me if I do something wrong," she said.

  "You do...everything right." Strain tightened his features, his breaths turning ragged. Lust glittered in his dark eyes, the starry pinpricks so beautiful. He had an entire solar system in those irises, and she felt like she was the sun.

  Up and down, she stroked him. Up, down. His hips arched with each upward motion.

  "The things you do to me, lass." With a hand draped over her nape, he drew her down for another kiss. A frenzied one, with teeth and tongue and an exchange of air. Of life.

  He slipped his free hand under her panties, pressed the heel of his palm against her core. Pressure grew, made worse by lance after lance of incomparable sensation.

  "Puck...please." So ready!

  He plunged two fingers deep. Yes! She cried out, releasing his length to clutch his shoulders, her nails sinking into his skin. Her skin pulled taut over muscle, her mind reduced to its most animal state. Take my pleasure, ensure his.

  She rocked her hips, forcing his fingers deeper. Hotter heat. More pressure. Little mewling sounds rose from her as his thumb pressed against her clitoris.

  "I'm so close," she said, her voice ragged.

  "That's the way, wife. I'm going to make you come hard and fast. A swift, brutal climax, but it won't be enough. Not nearly enough."

  No, no, never enough. She couldn't catch her
breath. She...she...

  "You're going to need more...and more..." His voice drugged her, luring her to obey...

  Gillian erupted! A scream burst from her, pleasure overwhelming her. Muscles contracted. Bones liquefied. Her heart either stopped, or it raced so quickly she could no longer discern a single beat. Her mind soared with the stars, wonderment leaving her in a daze.

  But just as "hard and fast" as she'd come, she crashed. Empty, her body was so empty, his fingers gone. She needed to be filled.

  Panting, she said, "Diabolical man. You were right. It wasn't enough. I only want more."

  His eyelids hooded, his breathing choppy. "Then take it from me."

  Oh, she would, happily. But not until she returned the favor...

  "Let's get you primed first," she whispered. Trembling, knowing she played with fire, Gillian traced her fingers over his lips, his cheekbone, around his eyes, through his hair...and over his horns. Every touch was a revelation of his innate power...and agonized her.

  The danger of arousing him? She aroused herself, too.

  When he tore open the waist of his pants, just enough to free his length--so long and thick and hard--her inner walls squeezed, as if desperate to glove him.

  He ran his hand up and down, utterly magnificent. "This is what you do to me. This is how much I crave you."

  He craved her greatly.

  "Want to taste it." Tremors intensifying, she crawled down his body and fit her lips around his erection, took him down...down.

  The ferocity of his reaction delighted her. He gripped hanks of moss, dug the heels of his feet in the dirt, and hissed up at the sky. "Yes!"

  She moved up, down. Repeat, again and again. He trembled with every upward glide, and groaned each time she descended. His strength...heat...silkiness...incredible!

  He was desire made flesh, carnal and deliciously wicked.

  She sucked him, faster and faster, until he tensed, gripped her under her arms and lifted her. His mouth claimed hers, and he fed her a fierce, frenzied, savage kiss. With a deft twist of his wrist, he removed her shirt, cupped and kneaded her bare breasts. He pinched her nipples, and she gasped. Every cell in her body hummed with rapture.

  "More." She had to have more.

  He ripped off her panties. "Straddle me. Will use magic...birth control."

  Finally take him inside? Yes! "Running low on magic."

  "Worthy sacrifice."

  So true! As fast as immortally possible, she climbed onto his lap. The pleats in her skirt offered no resistance as she spread her legs, welcoming his erection against her core.