Dreams of a Dark Warrior (45 page)

Declan Chase’s
mother and father
.

Had he watched the Neos devouring his family as his own flesh was stripped?

The couple had been middle-aged. Which meant Chase had been young when the creatures had …

had
fed
on him. She shoved the back of her wrist against her mouth.

He must’ve barely survived. How terrified he had to have been.

She gazed at the cloudy night sky. Yet just because she could understand his motivations didn’t mean

she could forgive his crimes. He might have had nothing to do with her vivisection, but he’d stil tortured her, he’d stil brought her and her friends to this hel -on-earth island as his prisoners.

Had MacRieve and Carrow even made it out of the facility alive? Was that vemon Malkom Slaine out

stalking the witch and her ward? Regin had faced a vemon in the past and was lucky to have escaped

with her life. They were phenomenal y strong and fast. If Slaine wanted revenge, then who could possibly

protect Carrow?

And because of Chase, Regin had been kept from Lucia. She had no idea how her sister was faring

out in the world. Would Lucia be foolish—or desperate—enough to face Cruach alone?

Regin ducked her head under the water. What would she want with Chase anyway? There was no

happily ever after with him. He scorned immortals. As of yesterday, he was a jobless, homeless drug

addict, with a target on his back the size of the entire Lore.

And that was
if
he lived.
If
they didn’t kiss or have sex. Otherwise he’d kick it before anyone in the Lore got a chance to off him—

She stil ed when she sensed Chase nearing.
Couldn’t ignore me for long, eh, Paddy?
She peered

over her shoulder, found him standing at the edge of the water.

Without his cuffs.
Damn it, Brandr.

Then she frowned. Chase’s mien was determined, his dark brows drawn together over his blazing gray

eyes.

Determined to do what?

His pul over sweater and pants seemed tighter on him. As if he’d grown over the day, which made no

sense—

He grasped the bottom of that pul over to remove it.
Does he think he’s coming in with me?

“Pool’s taken. Run along, Chase.” He didn’t, so she opened her mouth to deliver a caustic chew-out.

The words died on her lips when he dragged the sweater over his head, revealing his flexing torso.

His scars seemed to be stretched flatter than when she’d seen them last night, as if his chest had

grown. As she surveyed his torso, she found herself staring as much at his sculpted slabs of muscle as

she was at the scars covering them.

Rock-hard ridges descended to the low waist of his camo pants. Her gaze dipped to his flat navel, then

to his goodie trail. And lower … She swal owed. He’d begun stiffening in those pants.

She yanked her gaze up, determined to look at anything else. Around his neck he wore dog tags, and a

big, butch military watch was strapped to one brawny forearm. With the combat boots, low-slung pants,

and tacticool accessories, he looked good. Even scarred, he looked better than good.

Was he gorgeous, like the original Aidan had been? No. But he was intriguing.

And right now, Chase looked like a man who knew what he wanted and who was on the cusp of taking

it.

Magister Chase, the man, was …
sexy
.

When he sat on a nearby boulder, pul ing up one knee to unlace a boot, that eight-pack of his rippled.

She watched with a reluctant fascination as he removed both boots.

Then he stood, his hands at the fly of his pants, pinched fingers tugging down his zipper. She was going

to tel him to stop. Any second.

Shoulders back, he let the pants drop, stepping from them.

Breathe, Regin.
His shaft was semihard and growing, rising from a patch of crisp black hair. Pulsing with aggressive jerks, it distended before her eyes. Behind that taut flesh, his bal s hung down, heavy but visibly tightening.

The clever and relatively young Declan Chase met two out of her three criteria.

He’d always been generously endowed, but this … Her claws were curling for it.

Stop staring at his dick, slore.

Yet the rest of him affected her almost as much. His legs were powerful y masculine, dusted with black

hair that led up to his groin. His hips were lean, the muscles up his sides flexing.

She was transfixed. But when he took a step closer, she snapped out of it. “Thanks for the view of your

junkyard.” She turned away, continuing to wash her arms. “But you’d do wel to stay away from me,

Magister.”

“No’ a magister anymore, no’ one of the Order.”

She shrugged. “Oh, because you’ve lost your instal ation?”

“I’m no’ a magister anymore, because you wouldn’t be a magister’s woman.” He strode into the water.

FORTY-FOUR

D
eclan edged closer.

In a way, this was like a military op. Yet never had an objective meant this much to him. And in no plan

of attack before had he ever felt this much conflict within himself.

Stripping in front of her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Storm a Cerunno nest? Routine.

Attack a demon stronghold? Child’s play.

Putting himself under her scrutiny to risk certain rejection? Grueling.

He’d somehow held himself stil as she’d leisurely inspected every inch of him. For some reason, he

didn’t think she was repulsed by the sight of him. God in heaven, maybe even the opposite. When her

eyes had flickered, he’d grown hard under her gaze.

Nothing to lose, Dekko.
If this didn’t work, then at least he’d be freed from one of his vows to the vampire.

Her slim shoulders tensed as he eased up behind her. Heedless, he reached forward and pul ed her

hair off her nape. About to kiss the smooth skin above her torque, he leaned in—

She threw an elbow back, catching him in the mouth. “Don’t you dare!”

As he’d hoped, that one hit wasn’t enough, was only the shot that set off an avalanche. She whirled

around, fist drawn back to pound his cheek.

He shook it off, swinging around to kiss her neck.

“Stop that!” She punched his mouth again. He pressed his newly bleeding lip to the other side of her

neck.

“What is
wrong
with you?” Another hit to his face left his jaw singing.

But he merely rubbed his chin over the tip of her pointed ear. Every time she struck, he responded with

a kiss or touch. “Is that supposed to hurt, Valkyrie? You hit like a wee girl.”

“A wee girl!” she screamed, punching his kidney over and over, backing him toward the shore.

Never had he been so happy to take a beating. Of course, she wasn’t at ful Valkyrie strength, and he

was lingering on the very cusp of berserkrage.

When he tripped backward onto land, she leapt atop him, straddling his waist as she dril ed his face like

a punching bag.

Instead of deflecting her hits, he grasped her perfect breasts, groaning from the weight of them in his

hands. Soft, damp flesh against his palms. Her nipples were tight points. … With a groan, he rocked his

hips up beneath her.

She knocked his hands away; he let her.

“You keep ticklin’ me like this, Valkyrie, and I’l think you want me to tickle back.” Was she even aware

they were both naked and she was straddling him? He could feel the heat of her quim against him, slick

warmth in the cool air. “I can do this al night, lass.”

“You prick!” she yel ed between breaths, hammering his sternum. “Maybe I can’t land a painful punch

because of al the
drugs
in your system!”

His gaze bored into hers. “Never wil touch them again,” he told her, and he meant it.

“Or maybe you don’t feel my hits because of al that ugly scar tissue buffering you!” She dragged her

claws over the marks.

Shame fil ed him. Anger ignited.
She’ll never see past them.
Just as he’d known.

Then his eyes narrowed with realization. “I might be ugly, Regin, but something’s got your claws curlin’.”

She’d seen him completely undressed, and she was stil getting aroused. Wanting to roar with triumph, he

grew more aggressive, leaning up to brush his lips over one stiff nipple.

After a heartbeat’s hesitation, she backhanded him away.

“Slower to defend on that one, no, lass?” He pinned her arms to her sides so he could nuzzle her other

nipple. Though she resisted, he took it between his lips, tasting that bud, tonguing it … With a hoarse

groan, he began to suckle, his eyes rol ing back in his head.

Had she moaned? His cock pulsed painful y.

In a siren’s voice, she said, “Chase, let me go. So I can touch
you
.”

Yes!
Without releasing his suck on her nipple, he slid his hands down to rest on her hips.

“You want my touch, Blademan?” She reached back, raking those claws up his thighs, leaving bloody

furrows. “That’s al you’l get from me—pain!”

He sucked her harder, til her nipple throbbed to the tip of his tongue. Pain? He felt none.

Gods, Chase’s mouth was so hot on her breast, his lips closed tight around the peak.

He was thrumming, the muscles of his torso flexing sensuously beneath her. She’d never truly

comprehended how big Chase’s body was next to hers.
So like Aidan.

Yet so different. A Celt with a wicked tongue and a gravel y voice.

His kiss tempted her; but for right now, it felt better to smack him around. She shoved him back,

slapping him across the face.

“That’s it, Regin, do what you need to.”

“Oh, I wil .” The last three weeks had been like a pressure cooker, and now she was about to explode.

Every hit made a knot inside her unfurl. He wasn’t the only one who could feel rage—and seeing the

blood she’d drawn al over his body made it ebb.

One of his eyes was swol en. His lip was busted. The skin over his broad cheek was split. His legs

were bleeding.

And stil he was hard as rock.

He took her hips and settled her lower on his torso, pressing her to his erection. “I want you so much.

It’s like a fever in me.”

She knocked his hands away. “Why would I ever want you back? You think I’m just going to forget al

you’ve done to me?”

“No, no’ forget. But I can salvage this thing between us. I’m ready to do whatever needs to be done.”

“Salvage, huh? See, I’ve been remembering more from last night. You
suffocated
me.” She boxed his

other ear. “Was it hard to do?”

His face went cold, evincing that cruelness she’d hoped never to see again. “Just pressed down til you

went limp. What’s hard about that?”

“Ugh!” She backhanded him again.

“Of course it was bloody hard,”
he roared, the tendons in his neck straining. “One of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Brandr was about to puncture your goddamned heart. Happened anyway.”

“Your hands were steady enough when you were cutting off my air!” Another resounding slap.

“Because they fuckin’ needed to be! Damn you, woman, you
died
! And there was …
nothing I could
do
.” His voice was thick.

Was Chase feeling an emotion other than hate? Dim memories arose. Her face damp with tears?

Chase murmuring in her ear to hold on for him?

She narrowed her gaze. “Did the big bad Blademan lose control of his emotions last night?”
Slap.
“Did seeing me like that compwetely bwake your wittle heart?”
Backhand.
“Did you cry man tears?”

He flipped her to her back, rising above her. “Cried over you like a wee babe.” He pinned her hands

over her head. “I
can
feel, Regin. And it kil ed me to see you like that!” His eyes began to glow. “Which real y pissed me off, Valkyrie. Because any last hope that I could live without you vanished.”

Declan wedged his hips between her legs as the need to make her his burned within him. “It wil always

be you, Regin.” His free hand curled under her thigh to position his shaft.

“No, Chase!” She scrambled back from him, fighting his hold on her wrists. “Never!” She’d begun

panting, breasts rising and fal ing, her nipples swol en. “You can’t do this. No sex!”

“Does this mean you’re feelin’ something for me, Valkyrie? Maybe you want me to live now?” He

leaned down to kiss her, but she yanked her head to the side.

“Do
not
kiss me,” she hissed, her eyes flashing.

“No kissing of
any
kind, then?” As she tussled against him, he moved her bodily to a nearby bed of grass.

“What are you doing?” she snapped.