Wicked Paradise (29 page)

Morgan cleaned the fruit, splashing cool water on her face and neck. Refreshed, she returned to her resting spot and tucked away all but two fruits for later. She picked at the smooth outer layer of one with a fingernail and tried to peel the skin off, but it only came away in miniscule pieces. Morgan shrugged and bit into the fruit, peel and all. Ambrosia teased her tongue, taunted her stomach. She stretched out on the grass, savoring the indescribable treat. She wasted no time devouring the first one. A strange dreamy eroticism spread upwards from her feet. She bit into the second one, and her extrasensory perceptions sharpened.

Wonder ruptured low inside her. She had never felt so aware of all her senses at once. Within seconds, she floated above the glade into puffy clouds skimming the azure sky. Her magic bristled across the outer layer of her flesh, beneath her skin in ripples. She loved the feel of it streaming in and out, leaving the door open to the cleansing air.

Morgan soared in cottony clouds, dreaming of Ryan, blissfully fulfilled as she envisioned him seducing her on a beach, and then making love to her on a bed of silken grass in the center of the stone circle on Avalon. Then she took delight in showing Ryan her home island from the cliff top meadow to the castle and village below.

Standing within the stone pillars, shadows dimmed the colorful glade. Morgan smiled and beckoned, widening the door to her powers, to her lover.

“Morgan,” the familiar voice intoned in her mind on an airy current.

“Father, is that you?” Morgan’s smile grew, her joy unlimited as her weightless body dipped and rose on pillows of air.

“Love, I am here.” He caressed her cheek, his loving, lined face wavering into view. “Come with me. I have found a way for you to end your task and return home.”

Fog billowed in Morgan’s mind. “But Father, I haven’t fulfilled my mission. Avalon’s Shadow is alive and powerful.”

His booming chuckle sounded off to her right and she turned in his direction. Wearing a new brown wool cape, he appeared decades younger than the man she’d left behind. No white tinted his chestnut hair, and the lines bracing his mouth and eyes were only shadows.

“Indeed, you have fulfilled your task, daughter. Can you not see the vitality returned to us?” He swept his hand in front of his youthful appearance. “Avalon’s Shadow shall return home with you. As I had planned. You must open yourself to him. Then all will be right with the world once again. Only then will Ryan and his people be safe.”

Agitation failed to reach past the euphoria flowing in Morgan’s blood, although questions continued to flounder in her head. “I don’t understand. You wanted me to destroy WindWraith in order to return magic to Avalon. You said I couldn’t return home.”

“Let him in. Everything will be in your grasp.” Gwilym kissed her forehead in his loving, comforting way. “You will have the man of your dreams, and live a long, happy life on Avalon. Your dream warrior’s people will prevail and grow strong again.”

The sentiments seemed clear and precise, sinking her doubt fast. Home. All she wanted was a joyful home with the man of her dreams. Happiness flung wide the gates to Morgan’s magic. Power flowed outward in a steady stream, even as the soothing warmth of something unfathomable spilled into her.

“Little raven.”

Morgan swung her head to the left. Ryan appeared, tall and broad of shoulder, fair hair flowing free, framing his chiseled, bronzed face. His skin glistened, his muscles rippled.

She held her arms out to him. “My love, everything is in our grasp. You no longer have to absorb WindWraith inside you.”

Fury flashed across Ryan’s beloved face. Then his expression softened and his darkening gaze drank her in from head to feet. “You are right, Morgan,” he replied in a monotone voice. “You need only let him in and you will be mine, forever bound, living the life we deserve on Avalon.” He nuzzled her neck, leaving a shower of shivery kisses from her throat to her lips.

He forced her lips open with his thrusting tongue. Morgan closed her eyes, letting him drive her delirious with his drugging kiss. Their tongues dueled in a fierce tango, and she felt her breasts crush against his iron chest. Ryan’s hands caressed her back, cupped her bottom, his knees spreading her legs apart. Her body melted against him, the world filled with him.

She wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders, wanting him closer. When their kiss ended and she opened her eyes, the obsidian depths of the ancient Druid-Fomorian looked upon her. “WindWraith,” she exclaimed, her emotions faltering.

Something awful and compelling at the same time appeared in the Fomorian’s fathomless features. It seduced and beckoned her into a malignant love. The lure to join the depths, to feel the desire wrap her into its ecstasy was too much to bear. Morgan sank into the hard body, let his magic cushion her fall into heaven.

“I am your homeland, your life, your love. We share the same blood. We belong together. I am your soul mate. Do you accept me?” His shadowy form engulfed her, soft, silken, pressing against her sensitive spots, creating an aching tempest inside her body. Again, adopting Ryan’s beloved face and form, he whispered words of love, happiness, and home. “Accept me, Morgan. Let me in and we will be soul mates for eternity.” Flowers in full bloom perfumed the air, encircled their bed of soft meadow grass, giving credence to his heartfelt plea.

Joy overflowed her until she thought her heart would leap through her chest. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I accept you.” Her hands strayed across his feverish skin, following the path her lips burned down his throat to the brand above his heart.

The stone in his amulet lay silent and dark. Dead.

Morgan gasped. She whipped her head back and peered into death, thick with centuries of killing and putrid with evil. She screamed.

White-hot agony seized her internal organs, leaving her feeling split in serrated halves. A dagger of light cut her skull in two, tumbling her to the darkened glade.

Chapter 28

WindWraith eased Morgan onto the altar he had purified for her arrival. It had been effortless to encroach upon her dreams in her euphoric state. To read her thoughts, to find evidence of the ideas he had gleaned about the Druid male. He laughed gleefully, and allowed his human form to split asunder as his laughter died. He didn’t want to waste more energy than necessary to maintain the shape. Very soon, the Druid sorceress would be ready for him. And he for her.

He flicked an appendage over her abdomen, trickled it up her torso to her sticky, sweet lips. A sigh blew out of him. To have this woman bonded to him would make his days on Earth so pleasurable. He might even grow to love again.

Regrettably, the assassin’s rare link to starfire prohibited him from using the man as his vessel. He would much rather endure an eternity rutting with her, her lips pleasuring him, than a hasty bedding before his departure. But that didn’t mean the assassin’s magic was useless. WindWraith needed it to escape the island. In more ways than one.

Merlin wasn’t a stupid mage. They both knew the crystal gateway required Druid magic at both ends to make it work. Once the island’s barrier shattered, sending a surge of Avalon magic to the island, he would have it all.

One more quake.

One step closer to reuniting with his son.

WindWraith laughed, a blustering, wheezing sound. He smoothed his fingers over Morgan’s naked breasts, flicked a tongue of air at her nipple, tasting his homeland, ingesting the rare mix of Druid essence. The four elements wafted off her, paraded through his form in excruciating pleasure.

A magnificent mate. At least she will be, once WindWraith found the male body, Michael O’Rourke, to inhabit for the rest of his days. Arrogantly, he slipped into Morgan’s mind again, digging deeper for useful information he may have missed, until her mind stirred and locked him out.

Chapter 29

Ryan stretched out on his stomach, the most vivid dream freshly imprinted on his brain. Seductive freesias, mixed with a vaguely familiar fruity aroma wafted in his mind as he kissed Morgan in a meadow beside a meandering creek. They felt like they were luxuriating on a plush, pillow-top bed. What he wouldn’t give to sleep on a regular bed again. Romance deserved much better than the dirty, torn beds from one California sanctuary to another and the hard, lumpy surfaces on this island.

Careful not to wake Morgan on the other side of their pallet, Ryan slowly stretched out the knots in his shoulders. She needed her rest to regenerate her lagging powers. But he was bristling to tell her the agonizing decisions he’d made during his restless night. First and foremost, he wanted to tell her he loved her, and that it’d be an honor if she became his wife and bore his children, created from a soul deep love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life cherishing and loving her the way she deserved. Everything he had to give, everything she wanted, including the magic inside him belonged to her. Such a life of love and family had eluded him for so long, but the life-altering decision felt incredibly right.

Ryan no longer harbored doubts about two decisions. He could not absorb WindWraith’s powers to supplement his own. Not if he wanted a life with Morgan. She had shown him last night how much a part of him she was, how much he’d missed throughout his young adulthood serving his people to his detriment, never experiencing the love of a selfless woman, one who completed him. They’d finalize the ritual to bind their souls forever—that day—before his lust drove him mad. He’d make it another special day with good food, firelight, and a perfect mood. To take that final step they both craved—to make slow, passionate love to each other. An aching need compelled him to roll over to awaken his beautiful temptress with a kiss. Only his gaze landed on an empty bed.

An air of foreboding permeated the dim cave and punched him in the gut. The end of the dream whacked him full force. WindWraith had lured Morgan from outside the glade, where Ryan and Morgan lay during their shared dream. “Son of a bitch!” How had WindWraith breached their dreams?

A rush of molten outrage propelled him off the bed. He sensed the threat to her in the blood drumming against his veins, in the buzzing amethyst flickering like a light bulb winking out. Their bond whispered in his pulse, receding with every passing moment.

“Morgan!”
Come on, baby, where are you?
“Morgan!”

Ryan scanned the sleeping alcove only to find empty spots where he’d dumped Morgan’s packs. He dashed from every nook and cranny in the maze of caves, calling for her. He sprinted outside to search, but she had vanished. RavenStar was also gone. Fear pooled inside him, threatening to drown him.

He raced back into the cave and tugged on a shirt and shorts. Quicker than he’d ever moved in his life, Ryan stuffed his backpack with supplies and his rudimentary knives. Spear in hand, he snatched an empty leather sack and jetted toward the crystal-lined portal.

The tenuous link to Morgan gave him an inkling of the direction she’d taken, enough to prove she lived. He’d find her using his tracking abilities. Pure hatred for the Fomorian burned through him. In his blind rage, he stumbled in the portal’s entryway, lost his footing, and slammed his head into the archway. Pain hammered his forehead. Staggering, he caught his shoulder on the stone wall, balancing against it to remain standing.

“Shit, shit, shit!” He held his head with one hand. Blood oozed between his fingers, and a haze of gray swept over him.

He strained to temper his power, preventing it from activating energy within the gateway. Sharp crystals bit into his skin as he slid to the ground, sidetracking the thumping in his skull. Lifting his face to the roof, he pleaded to the heavens, receiving neither sign nor answer. As his gaze slid down the gem-crusted wall in the crystal portal across from him, a dead spot in a deep crevice rising two feet off the ground caught his attention. Searing light blinded him and he shut his eyes, pressing his temples between his palms to massage away the accompanying throb.

Unable to move, Ryan wasted precious time conquering his vertigo. After what seemed hours, he struggled to his feet, head still aching, but his dizziness had abated. He stepped into the crystal cave and froze. Translucent stones flared to life so brightly, he had to peer through hooded eyes. Crystal energy merged with his ether, an inferno dominating his momentary weakness. Endorphins fed his rushing blood. He gathered loose gems off the littered ground and shoved them by handfuls into the empty bag.

Ryan shot a last look at the dead spot, warring with an urge to investigate. “Screw it. I don’t have time.” Without looking back, he sprinted from the cavern to find his heart’s desire.

* * *

Thick heat bogged down the air. The dreamlike effects of the mysterious fruit had retreated, but Morgan’s head ached dully in its nasty wake. Her scorching bed scratched her bare flesh with every twitching movement she made. Where, by the Goddess, had her clothing gone?

“Ryan?” she called through a scratchy throat.

Useless gurgling and hissing answered her. She batted her heavy eyelids several times trying to open them. Her arms were leaden; her legs so sluggish they refused to budge. What happened to her? She swallowed, her throat dry despite the broiling humidity. Finally, she focused her vision and instantly wanted to blink away the terror shredding her lethargy and puzzlement.

Unable to lift her head, Morgan swung her head from side-to-side. Invisible fetters bound her wrists and ankles on a stone platform. Peering into the smoky air, she knew she lay in the cavern from her previous vision of WindWraith. Far above her, light slivered down a hole in the cone-shaped ceiling, dissipating near the sky-grazing top. Acid formed in her stomach when she recognized the sources of heat and moisture.

Boiling lava pools bordered three sides of the cavern. Water splashed onto the fiery liquid from several small waterfalls and brimming basins of water. Molten lava exploded in fragments into the water, churning beneath vapors spiraling up from the pools, clouding the air. Lifeless black crystals layered the walls so dark the amber and crimson light from the lava died on their surfaces.