Dark Rival (29 page)

He had thought about his death for centuries. He had never worried: he had accepted that one day, his Fate would be death. Now, he turned. ''Are ye certain ye saw my death?"

"Aye, at Moffat’s hands—ye were protecting Ailios. Aidan was with ye."

So it was written, he thought, walking over to the fire. He stared blindly into the flames. Ailios had hunted him down in the past to prevent his death in the future, but his Fate was engraved in stone.

It didn't matter. No one would care.

I care!

Her voice resounded as loudly as if she stood beside him, crying out.

Ailios would weep for him. She had already wept over his dead body—and she would do so again.

He trembled, uncertain.

MacNeil clasped his shoulder. “We all go, eventually.”

Royce somehow smiled. No one knew MacNeil's age, but it was said he was well over a thousand years old. "Ye’ll never die. Who will manage the Master if you do?”
 
His voice tracked.

MacNeil stared sympathetically at him.

"Swear to me,” Royce said roughly, "that when I'm gone, ye’ll see to her care yerself. Yer the most powerful among us. Swear to me, now, that she'll be yer’ Innocent."

MacNeil nodded, “I give my word.”

Royce turned away, sickened now for he saw them in bed. It was inevitable.

MacNeil said quietly. "I shouldn't say so, but she loves ye deeply, Ruari. She’ll never love another man."

He whirled. "Did ye see that, too?"

MacNeil hesitated. "Nay, I canna see past the day ye die."

Royce thrust himself into MacNeil's mind, and realized he was telling the truth. Clearly he had lurked on Ailios. Did it matter? Eventually MacNeil would seduce her. He would never think to deny himself, not with Royce gone.

Royce walked away. His temples pounded. He was supposed to wait five hundred and seventy-seven more years for her? For what—a single night?

One night was not going to be enough.

And if there was only going to be one night, he wanted it to be sooner, he wanted it to be now.

“Ruari, dinna give in to such temptation."

Royce jerked. He was so agitated he'd forgotten to shield his thoughts.

"Moffat hunts her. I dinna ken what to make o' the fact that she’s here now, in this time—an’ ye dinna die for almost six hundred years. A long war lies ahead."

And in that moment, it truly sank in.

Moffat would not die tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. He had to hunt him—but the hunt would last almost six hundred years—and in the end, he was to be the one vanquished.

And the burden of such an endless war; added now to the burden of the past eight hundred years, crushed him down.

"Yer strong. Ye can protect her for such a long lime. I'm sure of it."

Royce couldn't answer.

For the first time in his life, he had entered a war knowing the outcome. It wasn't war—it was a journey to his death.

And then he rallied and recovered. There was no choice. It was a journey he had to make, a war he must fight, because he had been chosen, and Ailios must live.

ALLIE WAS BATHED in holy light. She no longer prayed. On the floor of the knave, before a sacred shrine containing the holy Book of Wisdom, the Cladich, she knelt before all the gods. Their holy blessings washed over her, through her, and she wept, carried away on a tide of religious rapture.

When the communion was filially over, she became aware of her surroundings. The gods had gone. Long, dark shadows had crept into the chapel. Allie sat on the floor, dazed. She'd come into the chapel in the morning, instinctively finding her way to the shrine, and she had begun to pray. The Ancients had come closer and closer and finally she had been the one showered with their holy, healing powers. The tears of rapture had dried on her face and now. they stung. She felt empowered and weakened at once.

Allie stood and became dizzy. She reached out to a pew and waited for the chapel to stop spinning.

She'd never had such a religious experience in her life, but she was pretty sure every Ancient had come to her. It had been mind-blowing.

Allie took a deep breath and turned, her mind starting to clear. She thought about Royce, who had said they'd leave the island hours ago. Before she could decide what his mood might be at the delay, she saw the woman standing at the end of the knave, as if she had just walked through the door.

Her heart slammed. ''Mother?"

Elizabeth was dressed in a long, pale gown, and she looked as corporeal as anyone. But the moment Allie spoke, Elizabeth began to fade. Through her body, Allie could see the chapel walls.

"Mother! Wait!" she cried. She rushed up the knave, toward her.

Elizabeth did not smile. As Allie came closer, she realized her mother's expression was haunted. No, it was frightened. Allie paused before the translucent apparition, terribly alarmed. Elizabeth started to speak urgently to her—but Allie could barely hear her whispers.

"Mom. What is it? What's wrong"

"Danger.. .you... Ruari," she seemed to say. And then she swiftly faded into nothingness.

Allie gasped in shock. What had just happened?

Her mother had reached out to her from the dead, again. And she had been frightened. Held she been asking for help? Had she been trying to warn her? What did this mean?

Allie stepped from the chapel, shaken to the core. She glanced around, but it was a dark night, filled with shadow, clouds clearly having come in that afternoon. The various buildings beyond the chapel were lit from within with fires and torches, but she saw no one moving about. Even though the grounds were holy, she strained her senses. The night was vacant of all evil.

A man materialized from the dark shadows, striding purposefully toward the chapel.

Allie knew it wasn't Royce from his far lither silhouette, just as she knew he was a Master, his aura filled with holy power. But it was also filled with uncertainty, which surprised her—as if he did not quite know himself. His strides suddenly faltered as he sensed her.

His gaze turned instantly to her, and he paused, not entering the chapel.

Torches had been lit by the monks and the garden and path outside the chapel were illuminated. Allie saw a very young, golden Master. His wide gaze turned to very smug, male appreciation and he undressed her with a look. "Ye must be the Healer.”

Allie put her thoughts of Elizabeth aside. "Yes I am Allie. You are?" She had to smile. This man was probably no more than twenty-one, but he was pure beefcake. Sam would lick him up, all over.

"Seoc." He grinned and approached. "Ah, they said yer beauty is unrivaled, but I dinna quite believe it."

Allie smiled with some amusement. “I’m hardly unrivaled in beauty. You should see my two best friends. Not only are they beautiful, they're blond and tall."

"I dinna mind someone so small," he said with deep dimples.

"I’m with Royce," she said softly. Better to head this one off at the pass, she decided.

He sighed. "Aye. I heard that, too. I heard he canna stand ye lookin' at another man" He grinned. "I dinna care. Ye can look at me anytime. Are ye certain ye wish to be with such an old man?"

Allie had to smile. "How old are you, Seoc?"

"Old enough to please you very well."

"Twenty-one? Twenty-two?"

He shook his head. "My age doesna matter, lass. An’ I'm glad to prove it to ye."

"Royce will take yer head—at least," Allie said flatly.

"Probably," Seoc agreed affably. "But I have nay doubt it will be well worth it."

Allie laughed, "I think you were on your way to pray?"

“I’m newly chosen. My brother has ordered me to some penitence.”

And Allie saw the resemblance to MacNeil in Seoc's vivid, long-lashed green eyes, but otherwise his features were far prettier. "MacNeil?"

"Aye.” He held out his hand. "Let's converse some more. I can pray for guidance later." But he turned to glance over his shoulder.

Allie had already felt Royce approaching and her heart leapt in excitement. She saw him striding up the road and she went still. His aura was an inferno of crimson and gold. Not rage—just burning desire.

Although she didn't move or breathe, her pulse exploded, beginning to pound in unison with the blood rushing in his veins and filling his loins. He was coming for her—and there was no mistaking his intentions.

She didn't know what had happened, what had changed. Suddenly it didn't matter. He wanted her now and he was going to take her. And suddenly she could feel the rapture awaiting them. It was so close... and every inch of her body expanded, heating impossibly.

Royce came out of the shadows, and the first thing she saw was his hot silver gaze. Then she saw how terrifically his leine thrust out. Desire made her feel faint. Her flesh began a distinct throbbing, swelling and already seeking his.

"Well," Seoc said. "Well."

Allie didn't even notice him slip past her into the chapel. She somehow wet her lips, trying to regain some control over her mind. Royce was on the rampage for her now. Her own body was rejoicing—and joining him in that rampage. She needed him, hot and hard, inside her small, tight body. But she needed the words, too, didn't she?

He reached her, grasping her shoulders, his hands uncompromising. His gaze locked with hers, and so much lust burned there, she spasmed.

He knew. His face tightened.

Allie gasped at the torturous wave of pleasure.

He pulled her close. “I canna tell ye I love ye," he said thickly. "Not now not ever."

It was a warning. Allie tensed She tried to breathe—tried to think. Instead her hands clasped his hips. Her pulse drummed frantically now everywhere—he pulsed between them, against her. “What is it?” she managed to ask.

"Ye can heal me," he rasped, his blazing eyes holding hers. “Here, now, tonight."

She tried desperately to understand. “With sex?"

His mouth came closer. "Aye. Ye can heal me with yer body."

She stared into his eyes and saw more than lust. She saw urgency, even desperation—and fear. She stalled, touched his rough jaw. "What is it? Please, what's happened?"

"Everything's different now." His arm swept behind her back, his hand cupping her buttock. “Just let it be." But his gaze was searching,

"Ailios. I need ye," he said.

Allie reached for him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ROYCE SEIZED HER JEANS by the waistband above the fly, and covered her mouth with his.

Allie gasped at the urgent onslaught of his mouth, while his knuckles pressed low and hard, beneath her denim and the lace of her thong. His tongue swept deep and Allie moaned, pressing her belly outward, against his hands.

Around her, in her, she felt his hot pulse racing in his body, frantically pounding in his veins.

Her own desire soared in tandem with his and she felt his excitement intensifying. He felt her own response, too. Suddenly he tore her jeans down her hips, kneeling. Allie's body went still as his mouth moved over the lace covering her throbbing flesh. He hooked a finger beneath the thong and swept the scrap aside. His tongue swept the length of her, down her wet crevice, up another.

She held on to him and gasped with pleasure.

Allie felt him stiffen to incredible proportions and she felt him throbbing: she felt his need to explode. She began to crest out of all control. Clinging to his shoulders, she gasped his name. "Royce—let me come."

In answer, he pulled her down to the ground, his mouth still on her sex, his fingers in her now. And he said, “I have to taste yer light"

Allie was briefly confused. And then the strangest thing happened. Something touched her deep inside herself—and it wasn't physical.

Royce went still—and deep inside her, he somehow touched her again.

His pulse changed. She felt a sudden rush of power expanding in his veins. It heightened her excitement: he cried out again, his grasp on her hips tightening. The wave of pleasure spiraled wildly in him, in her.

And Royce strained inside himself, as if fighting his need to climax. Allie wanted to scream at him to let go, because she needed to let go, when he touched her on some other plane again.

It was a caress between souls.

He had never been as strong, as virile' his power had become huge. He knew it—she knew it.

She felt him start to come.

The climax was unlike any she’d ever had before. He was overcome with the power in his body, but with it was the greatest lust she'd ever felt, an excitement so vast it was blinding for them both. There was only pleasure, power, pain and ecstasy. His climax became hers.

Royce moved over her, seizing her face, She met his wide, blazing eyes, aware he was as shocked as she was. He surged deep, stretching her tight body wide. He roared with pleasure. She wept with her own release, riding far and wide, higher and higher still. The climax intensified for them both, in unison. They were somewhere above the earth now, shooting through and exploding in the stars. Allie knew she never wanted to touch ground again.

And he delved deep again, not just into her hot, wet body but into her power, her light, her soul, and Allie embraced him, shattering in rapture and joy.

HOURS LATER, Allie held hard onto Royce’s big body as they both finally became still. Although stunningly spent, she was spinning mentally, physically, emotionally. Every time she slept with him, it was off the charts, and better than the time before. But this time, Royce had made love to her. She was sure of it. This time, there had been a connection, a union, that wasn't physical. She felt as if he had somehow reached into her, entwining her soul with his.

His aims tightened around her.

Allie smiled against his slick chest. He probably didn't know it, but he was hugging her And she became aware of how exhausted she was.

For one more moment he held her, and then he moved away, onto his back, beside her. Allie was too tired to move.

They lay outside the chapel on his plaid, staring up at the dawn, for a long time. He finally said. "Did I hurt ye?"

Allie sighed, gathered up her wits and will, and turned onto her side and touched his hard rib cage. His gaze was on her, wide and searching.