Wicked Paradise (16 page)

Stuffing her dagger into its sheath, Morgan shot a cord of invisible fire at the shaking barrier. An earsplitting bellow of agony stormed the air, sending the remaining nearby animals scrambling deep into the jungle and birds flapping high into the sky. Mewls erupted from the beast and it thudded to the ground, snapping dried limbs beneath its body.

“Morgan!” Ryan hollered.

“Ryan?” Her liquid knees deposited her onto the trampled grass.

“Stay put.” Anxiety muffled his voice.

Morgan sat on her heels, drawing deeply of the calming sea breeze now refreshing the jungle. Her heart stuttered with each inhale.
Calm yourself. You’re safe
.

The jungle receded like waves off a rocky beach. Seconds later, Ryan emerged between two palmettos. He stopped beside the dead creature, now visible as the jungle gave way. The thorny vines unwrapped around the animal and snaked into the undergrowth, the ground soaking up the crimson drops. She glanced with sick interest at the grotesque animal, dimly wondering if they could make use of its hide, or if she even wanted to.

“Holy mother of the Gods.” Ryan stared at the strange gray-blue beast. He walked to her in what seemed like slow motion. Kneeling, he gathered her close. “Are you okay?”

A sob climbed up her throat and she managed to nod.

Ryan examined her face. He spared her a second to witness the concern wrinkling his brow before his mouth claimed hers. He kissed her hard, his tongue demanding, his touch sending tingles across her scalp. He folded her into his arms, his body consuming her, a balm to her overwrought sensibilities. Their kiss gentled and Ryan eased away, leaving an airless fire smoldering inside her.

He smiled wide, cupping her face in his large hands. “You scared me to death.” His voice hitched. “I thought you were a goner when I saw that beast.”

“I’m well.” Morgan tightened her arms around his waist, her heart swelling.

“Did you kill it?” Ryan stroked her hair, his fingers snagging in her braid.

She chewed on her bottom lip. “I used magic.”

“I didn’t feel it, and I was just outside that...whatever the hell jungle thing that surrounded you.” He surveyed the area, his lips twitching.

“It felt like a wealth of magic, but I only used a thimbleful.” She sighed against his chest, glad that he’d returned to her safely. “I feel alive, overflowing with power.”

Ryan pulled her up with him as he gained his footing. “It’s the island.”

“What do you mean?” She narrowed her eyes at the nearest reaches of the jungle.

“I’ll tell you later.” He dropped his arms and stepped toward the dead beast.

Panic crept into her. “Ryan!” She grabbed at his arm. “Don’t leave me.”

He twined his fingers in hers, molding her against his side. “I’ll never leave you like that again.”

Ryan slipped his other hand to the side of her neck and kissed her softly. His touch dripped a drugging need into her middle, and his kiss was a long, slow possession, leaving her gasping for more, for a promise. She felt an awakened response deep within, her promise giving way to the hypnotic grin on Ryan’s face as he drew apart.

Breathless, she smiled at him shyly. “That’s not what I meant.”

He chuckled. “I know. I have so much to tell you, to show you.” He tugged her braid teasingly. “First, we need to work on your fear of the jungle.”

“Was it that obvious?”

Ryan crooked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the dead animal. “Was that what scared you when you flew off the cliff?”

Grimacing, she glanced at the bluish, hairless animal, a bizarre cross between a bear and a lion. She rubbed her chafing scars. “I believe so.”

“I’ve been hunting that bastard for weeks. It’s been chasing off other animals, making it harder to hunt fresh game. It killed a winged horse past those trees.” Ryan pointed at a copse of small trees behind a cache of lava rocks.

“A winged horse?” Morgan blinked rapidly. “Are there others?”

“A small herd lives on a meadow up island.”

“I must see them one day.”

“You will.” Ryan’s arm tightened around her waist, squeezing out her residual fear.

Her gaze lingered on the carcass, darting off to survey the jungle that saved her. “If we live long enough,” she whispered. “Thank you.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

“For what?” He shrugged. “You did okay on your own.”

“I didn’t hear the animal stalking me.” She shuddered. “Your magic made the jungle protect me.”

The steely muscles of his body quivered against hers. “That wasn’t your magic?”

“What?” Morgan swiped a hand over her damp upper lip. “It wasn’t yours?”

Ryan swept his arm in the air. “Did you feel threatened by the jungle?”

She reflected upon the incident, forced herself to search beyond her normal fear of the woods. “No.” Eyes wide, she held his gaze as though her life depended on it. She wasn’t sure how to explain her impressions to Ryan since she didn’t understand what they meant. “When I left the grotto, I felt as if the jungle were alive, almost human. It seems to enhance my powers. I feel a part of it.”

Ryan pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re connected to this island. It changed the moment you arrived here. I felt it then, and it increases every day.”

Chapter 17

Subtle and not so subtle changes had occurred since the day Ryan washed ashore, even more so since Morgan had arrived. He’d never forget the storm that tossed him up for dead on the mystical island, a land so vastly different from the continent he’d left behind. One bleak, gray moon had drooped in the northern sky in the middle of that fateful afternoon. The next morning, the moon radiated vibrant violet light. The following night, a second violet-gray moon appeared in the southern sky. The moons hadn’t changed in two weeks. One day stretched into another, and he’d noticed formerly dead plants and trees leafing out with new growth, flowering plants breaking out in dozens of long-lasting blooms. Fruit ripened sweeter, more plentiful. Animals appeared more animated, livelier, as if preparing for a zoo party.

The day before Morgan appeared, hundreds of lightning bolts flashed across the sky. The moons and the cloudless sky deepened. The sun waned but didn’t disappear. Salty ocean winds carried strong magic, purifying the air. Then Morgan appeared. Pure. Powerful. Beautiful. So alluring.

The island awakened with Ryan’s arrival. It flourished for Morgan.

He shook off his puzzlement. Morgan opened her mouth to protest, but he hushed her with a finger over her lips. “The jungle protected you. Not me.”

“Holy—” Morgan closed her eyes. “It’s not my skewed perception.”

He cherished the feel of her in his arms, loved the extra rush of magic merging with his. While he was gone, he’d missed her like air, yearned for her like water to quench a post-apocalyptic thirst. His power had crawled sluggishly without her near. As much as he wanted to stand there and hold her, common sense prevailed. “Let’s get out of here.”

She held her ground, hand on her dagger hilt. “No. Wait.”

Ryan clasped her hand in his. “I’ll give you a lesson in fighting your fear. Then someday you can tell me why you’re afraid of the woods.”

She squeezed his hand. “Thank you. It’s more than that, though. Something drew me here. I don’t believe it was you or the jungle.”

The ravens squawked at each other in a red oak above their heads. One bird swooped down and landed on the dead animal’s side. It pecked at the carcass, not at all intimidated by them standing near it. The large bird twirled its head, bloodied blue skin dangling defiantly from its beak. High in the oak, its mate cackled, seeming to scold the fearless one.

Ryan surveyed the jungle, deriving no tangible or magical evidence of Morgan’s compulsory presence. He didn’t sense WindWraith nearby either, and simply added one more item to the list of dangers on the mysterious island. Shrugging, he turned to her. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about in this jungle. Not after what just happened. But fear is mostly in your head.” Ryan tapped his index finger on her forehead. “Whenever you’re afraid, stop and count to five slowly, take deep breaths, concentrate on the beauty around you. Think positive things.” He laid his hand on her heart. The even thrum against his palm matched his own pulse. “Think of the magic you possess. You’re stronger than any sorceress I’ve ever met.”

His thumb caressed the side of her breast, his hand sliding down to her waist. Electricity jetted up his arm from the contact through her thin top. “Hell, I should be afraid of you.” He chuckled.

She covered his hand with hers and pressed it to her heart again. “Thank you.”

Lifting her hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss on the inside of her wrist. Terror had shot straight into his heart when he spied that huge beast bearing down upon her and the jungle sealing her in. He’d destroy any man, beast, or gods-forsaken island if a freckle on her face got hurt. He didn’t think he could bear never seeing or touching her again.

Only half-alive without her, Ryan now recognized the persistent emptiness within him. The first moment he laid eyes upon Morgan, touched her, inhaled her, he knew she was the heart of the Druids, possibly the heart of his heart. She’d already bitten so deeply into his soul he never wanted to let her go. He’d protect her to the death. And he sure as hell wasn’t leaving the island without her.

The brilliant sun neared its pinnacle, promising another roasting day. They rested for a brief time on a mound of silvery-green grass beneath an awning of oak branches. A soft breeze fluttered the trees and bushes, blowing the humidity into the jungle depths, soothing their overheated skin.

Curiosity warred with Ryan’s overwhelming thoughts. “What put those scars on your stomach?” Anger chilled his voice knowing that something had hurt her. “Looks like a large cat or bear clawed you.”

Morgan’s lips compressed, her small fingers combed the grass. “When I was a child of six, my father went traveling, and he left me in the care of my aunt. My cousins and I were playing hide and seek in the forest and I got lost.”

Ryan eased her between his legs, and she settled her back against his chest. He traced the rigid lines beneath her blouse.

“I couldn’t find my way home. Eventually, my cousins gave up trying to find me and left to get help. Already scared out of my wits, I heard a crash in the bushes, and I ran blind. An animal stalked me. I didn’t see it, but I heard it, felt it.” She swallowed hard. “Twilight fell and I found a hollowed out log to hide in.” Ryan kissed the top of her head and rested his chin on her silky hair. “I heard the roar of a large wildcat. I was terrified. I—”

He burned with the need to wreak vengeance for her. “Don’t relive anymore.” Ryan smoothed his hand over her stomach.

“It’s all right.” Morgan snuggled into him and patted his arm. “That was when my dormant air magic emerged for the first time. For hours, the cat tried to claw his way into my burrow, scratching me in its efforts. My unruly air magic tricked it, and the cat darted off hunting invisible prey.” She gave a wry chuckle. “A search party found me in the morning, terrified and hungry.”

“I’m sorry.” Ryan wedged her closer, tightening his legs around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder. A temperate breeze ruffled her hair across his face, and he buried his nose in the crisp floral-vanilla fragrance.

“On the way home with the search party, I saw the raven pair for the first time. They never seem to leave me, always there whenever a significant event occurs in my life.”

“Nasty featherheads. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

“I disagree. I believe they’re my totem animal, my lucky charm of sorts.” Her fingertips danced along his arm. “There are those who believe my totem is a cat and that I’m a cat shifter because I bear its mark.”

Ryan laughed. “And they think you possess the cat’s power and will overcome those who are weaker.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what they think! That’s why I hide the scars, for the most part.”

“Sweetheart, you had a traumatic experience, but you aren’t a lioness or a tiger.” Ryan’s chuckle vibrated against her head as he kissed her. “At least not that I’ve experienced.” He growled low in his throat and teasingly licked her neck.

She squirmed in his arms. “Do the marks intimidate you?”

“They make me want to lick your stomach.” He kissed her ear lobe, blazing heat across her shoulders.

Morgan shook against him with a start, both hands clutching his forearm. “Did you hear that?” She wrenched out of his arms and jumped up, scanning the small glade.

Fire magic boiled up within him. “What?” He gained his feet, wrapping the straps of her satchel in his hand to use as a weapon.

“Someone’s out there calling me. You didn’t hear it?” She ran toward a slim path fading into the jungle.

“Nothing’s there.” Ryan reached for her, but she eluded his grasp. “We’ve wasted too much time already.”

“No!” She threw up her hands, dropped them onto her hips. “It’s hurt.”

“Is that why you left the grotto?”

“I thought it might be you at first, but I distinctly heard a child’s voice.”

She strode into the jungle. Ryan caught up behind her, grabbed her hips to pull her back. “Might be a trap.”

She shook her head, her glossy black braid swinging across her back. “I don’t think so. Can you hear it?”

Birds shrieked, monkeys chattered, and small animals scurried in the underbrush. “I don’t hear anything unusual.” Unease crept up his backside like a slow crawl of fire ants. The air suddenly stilled, and his breathing eclipsed the jungle noises. Then he heard it, a muted whinny to their right. He pushed in front of Morgan and led the way to a low rise of lava rocks. Skirting the pile, he halted in another small clearing.

A tiny winged horse, its legs folded beneath it, nestled in a fortress of boulders surrounding a patch of trampled ground cover. The foal trembled, ears flattened against its head, wings scrunched to its sides. Ryan drew near its haunches and it growled. Morgan shoved him out of the way in her hurry to reach the foal.

“Don’t go near it! The winged horses are mean beasts.”