Pleasure of a Dark Prince (44 page)

For two days, the only thing Lachlain had been able to do was watch as Garreth continued to regress further and further. “We have him here,” Lachlain told Lucia. “He’s safe. But he’s…
gone
.”

Emma added, “Aunt Luce, it’s bad.” A maid rushed up with a towel, handing it to Lucia, then bustled away, likely afraid of the wild-eyed Valkyrie.

Dropping the towel without interest, Lucia said, “Explain to me what happened.”

Lachlain related how they’d found him in the woods. “He was maddened. For some reason, he was certain that you’d died. He thought he’d killed you.”

“In his mind he did,” Lucia said. “An evil god made him believe that—made him
see
it.”

Lachlain’s beast stirred, and he asked slowly, “What god did this to my brother?”

“A dead one. Now take me to Garreth.”

As he and Emma walked with her down to the dungeon, Lachlain said, “He will no’ likely understand how you’re here. Just seeing you will no’ bring him back. Our kind… we doona return once gone this far.”

How would Lucia react when she saw Garreth? When she saw the claw marks up and down his body from where he’d torn at himself? They’d drugged him, but for some reason, he readily shook off the effects.

The three hadn’t even reached the dungeon’s outer door when Garreth scented his mate and roared.

The sound of his pain made Lucia’s façade of strength waver, tears threatening again. Lachlain gave a low growl in answer, so clearly desperate to help his brother.

Inhaling a steadying breath, she followed them in front of the cell. Inside, a cot lay mangled. A pallet was tucked into a corner of the floor. Darkness shrouded most of the spacious area.

From the shadows, Garreth’s eyes blazed, just as they had the first time she’d met him. But now, they glowed the palest blue. She could see his muscles were bulging, his fangs glinting, his black claws so long. The beastly image that usually flickered over him was so strong it concealed the man beneath. He wore only jeans, and they were in tatters. He’d dug his claws into himself and all the brick walls around him.

The pale gaze that had been locked on her face now turned away. He refused to look at her and kept to the back wall of the cell, as far away from her as he could be.

Emma whispered, “He doesn’t think you’re real.”

She couldn’t imagine his misery, was wishing she could bear it for him. “Then I’ll have to convince him.”

Lachlain said, “It’s no’ just the turning at this point—the beast is so entrenched it’s like a madness.”

Lucia was only half listening.

“The drugs have worn off again. I need to dose him.”

She shook her head. “No, I need him awake. Just let me in.”

“Verra well, then.” Lachlain exhaled. “You must stay behind me—”

“I need to be alone with him.” Lucia would do
whatever
it took to get Garreth back.

Could get ugly. Just look away, Lachlain, this doesn’t concern you….

“Damn it, Valkyrie, I canna guarantee your safety. And Garreth would expect me to protect you if he could no’.”

Lucia could tell he didn’t dare hope that she could save his brother. He was tempted to let her try but torn by his sense of responsibility.

I’ll make it simple for him.
Drawing her bow free, she said, “Where do you want it this time, Lykae?”

“Aunt Luce!”

“You doona ken how strong he is in this condition!” Lachlain snapped. “I’d be sending you into the lion’s den. He could hurt you in his confusion, could think you’re a spirit sent to torment him. And considering he’s a male in his prime with his mate, he’ll likely…”

“Understand me, Lachlain. I came here for my man, and I’m not leaving without him. If I have to live in there with Garreth, I will.”

“You might just. There’s no’ a single record in our history of a Lykae returning from this state.”

“And there was no record of anyone fighting the evil he just fought. Garreth won’t hurt me now.”

Emma softly asked, “Aunt Luce, would you bet your life on that?”

“He
is
my life now.”

Emma and Lachlain gazed at each other, until finally, he nodded. As he opened the cell door, Lachlain cleared his throat and said, “He’ll respond best to, uh, physical checks from you.”

Physical checks? At her nonplussed expression, he said, “He truly is like a wolf now. Just use whatever you know about wolves.”

“Got it,” she said, placing her bow on the ground near the cell. Lucia would growl, scratch, and bite if she had to. “Lock up behind me and leave. Please.”

When Lachlain hesitated, Emma told him, “Let’s go. She knows what she’s doing.”

“Verra well,” he muttered. He laid his hand on Lucia’s shoulder. “Bring my brother back to us.”

“I intend to. Oh, one thing.” She unstrapped her quiver and handed it to Emma. “You trace this directly to Annika. And bring your big husband with you.”

Emma frowned, accepting it. “What’s this?”

“Potentially the most powerful weapon in existence. Something
lots
of people and gods would kill for.”
But for me—it was an afterthought compared to Garreth.

With a swallow, Emma nodded. “I’ll do it. Good luck, Aunt Luce.”

Once Lachlain had locked her within and escorted Emma from the dungeon, Lucia eased closer to Garreth in the back of the cell. “Shhh, Garreth.” She reached for him so slowly. He still wouldn’t look at her, as if it would hurt him to. When she gingerly touched his chest, he flinched, not because of his wounds, but because
she
pained him.

She leaned up close to his ear and whispered, “I’m here, Garreth.” He stiffened when she gave a stroke down his tense back. “I’m going to take care of you.”

He openly scented her, probably no more than he ever had before, just more obviously. Not that he’d tried to hide it when he’d buried his face in her hair, inhaling deep.

“It’s me. Lucia,” she said softly. “I need you back.”

Finally he faced her, but he still refused to meet her eyes. She wanted him to look directly at her, to
recognize
her. If he met her gaze, he might comprehend that this wasn’t a dream.

Instead he was eyeing her like a wolf with its paw in a trap, warily,
angrily
. She sensed that any second he’d attack.

He doesn’t think I’m real.
Maybe he did think her his punishment.

With tentative movements, she gradually eased her arms around him, her hands meeting at his nape. She sighed with pleasure, merely from feeling him warm against her. “I missed you. So much. I don’t want to part from you again.”

The love she felt for this male overwhelmed her. Once, so long ago, Lucia had dreamed of a hearth, a husband, and children. Now it struck her that she’d always been waiting on this Lykae to help her realize those dreams.

“There,” she murmured. “This isn’t so bad, now is it?” His body was tense, thrumming. “Let’s just calmly—”

Like a shot, his huge hands wrapped around her waist, and he tossed her down to the pallet on the floor. As he loomed over her, an animal intent burned in his blue eyes.

When he reached for her to claw her jeans from her body, she cried, “Scot, wait!” But she knew he wouldn’t. The beast was in control, its image so pervasive, overlaying Garreth’s face. The sight unnerved her, but if she loved Garreth, then she had to accept this facet of him.

So she didn’t resist as he sliced her shirt and bra from her, nor when he bit away her panties in a frenzy. Her reflex was to close her legs, but he overpowered her, shoving her thighs open. He gazed at her naked sex for long moments, until she was squirming in his grip, surprised at how aroused she’d grown.

He slowly licked his lips, making her whimper. Then his hot mouth descended to her flesh.
Licking, suckling… hungry.
The beast was ravenous for its mate.

Her exhaustion, her worry for him, and the constant dread she’d been battling all were no match for his mouth’s furious taking. Her legs fell wide, and she dug her fingers into his hair, gripping him tight.

When the pleasure hit her, she screamed, “Ah, Garreth, yes!” As he growled and licked, she rocked to his wicked tongue again and again until her orgasm finally subsided.

Once he tore his mouth from her, he ripped his own jeans away. Naked and crazed, he knelt before her. His swollen shaft strained toward her, pulsing, the broad head moist as it prepared to enter her.

He gripped her waist once more, positioning her on her hands and knees. She twisted around to lie on her back, but he shoved her right back the way he wanted her. Spreading her sex with his thumbs, he mounted her from behind with one swift thrust, bellowing with pleasure. After her orgasm, she was more than ready for him.

Clapping his palms under her shoulders, he drove into her with all his strength, seating himself so deep.

“Garreth!” She gave herself up to him.
For now…

FIFTY-ONE

Long hours of frantic sex had passed, sweating bouts of animalistic pleasure as MacRieve had taken her from behind repeatedly. But now at last, by dint of her coaxing—and biting—Lucia had gotten him positioned above her, with his hips wedged between her thighs.

Finally, they faced each other. Yet even as he moved over her, languidly rocking inside her, he still hadn’t met her gaze. “Look at me, Garreth.”

Without ever increasing his savoring pace, he thrust deeper, growling as he kneaded her breasts.

She bit her lip, fighting to keep her eyes open. “Please come back to me.” The act was not as crazed—measured strokes instead of writhing bodies—but it was just as intense. Already she was on the edge. “I’m here, and I need you.” When she tried to kiss him, he buried his face against her neck, licking her heated skin.

His sweat-slicked chest slid across her nipples, his rigid shaft plunging relentlessly. Her claws dug into the taut muscles of his ass as he worked to pleasure her. Tension stole through her, coiling tight. Head thrashing, she undulated beneath him—

“Garreth!”
she screamed, coming around him, bucking wildly.

At once, he yelled out, the sound reverberating off the walls around them. She could feel his spurting seed, his shaft pulsing with each forceful wave. Rising up on straightened arms, he arched his back sharply, grinding his hips between her spread legs, groaning as he poured hotly inside her….

When he collapsed atop her, his heart thundered over hers.

Still panting, she grasped his face, tugging him to look at her. “Garreth, I’m here.” He’d made love to her. Surely he’d return now! “Come back to me….”

Instead, he averted his eyes and pulled out from her. Settling on the pallet to sleep, he dragged her to him, tucking her back against his front. Though fatigued from her earlier trials, and now exhausted by his merciless attentions, she lay tense under the weight of his arm.

While he slumbered, she strove not to cry.
I’ve failed.
She couldn’t bring him back. He would’ve been better off if he had never found her.

When she carefully slid out from under his arm, he gave a chuffing growl in sleep, but he didn’t wake. Sitting with her back against the cool stone, she gazed up at the ceiling, eyes watering. Her efforts not to cry— and not to give up—continued, but she waged a losing battle.

She’d just been so certain that Garreth would recognize her, had been so sure that the reason no Lykae came back from this beastly state was that they’d never had a new reason to. Mourned mates never came back from the brink—but she had.

Yet Garreth lay unaware.
I couldn’t save him.

She drew him closer, cradling his head in her lap. When he emitted another soft growl, she gazed down at him. His brows were drawn, his eyes darting behind his lids, his muscles jerking in sleep.

Was he remembering killing her? Would he relive it over and over again?

She loved him so much. But it hadn’t been enough to bring him back. Lightning struck outside as a tear fell, followed by another and another. She couldn’t stem them, stopped trying to. “I w-want you b-back, Scot,” she murmured as she wept. “I
need
you so much. And I c-couldn’t save you.” Soon she cried too hard to speak, sobbing with her mouth open, lips parted around stammering breaths. Rocking him, her teardrops fell—

“Lousha?”
he rasped.

She stilled, every muscle in her body going tense. “G-Garreth?” She stared down at him; her tears had been spilling onto his face, wetting his cheek.

Now he frowned.
“Canna have you cryin’,”
he vacantly muttered.

“Just stay with me,” she pleaded, swiping the back of her hand over her face.

“Want you, Lousha. So much.”

“I’m h-here!”

Turning his head, he gazed up, finally meeting her eyes. His irises flickered from blue to gold and back. “My Lousha. Dreamin’ you?”

“No, y-you’re not dreaming me!”

He stiffened against her. “What is this?” He sat upright, separating his body from hers, leaving her feeling cold, bereft. “You’re… dead,” he bit out, his eyes tormented.