My Reaper's Daughter (26 page)

of her hand. She knew he was hiding something from her.

“Owen?” she asked gently. “What is it you need to tell me?”

Owen’s gaze jumped from his son to his wife. He had made a vow to never lie to

her, to be honest with her, and the burden of the knowledge hanging over him would

have to be shared if he was to truly know peace. But he wasn’t sure right then was the

best time to tell her of his bargain with the goddess.

“I wasn’t in the con cell all those months,
y chree
.”

Rachel’s brows drew together. “You weren’t?” When he shook his head asked,

“Then where were you?”

“I honestly don’t know.” He forced himself to hold her gaze. “I was with the

goddess.”

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“With Morrigunia?”

He nodded.

“Then who…?” Her eyes widened. “Who
was
in that cell?”

“My twin Eanan,” he told her.

Rachel stared at him, remembering the confession he had made last year concerning

the goddess and the vile demands She had made on him…

“What did She ask of you?”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I am to be Her consort,” he said then looked away. “Her

lover. Available at Her command when She wishes.”

“I must share you with her?”

He nodded, flinching at her words.

“For how long?” she insisted.

He could not look at her. “For as long as She desires.”

Cold fury had been sown that day. For the first time in her life, hatred had

blossomed in Rachel Tohre. It was hatred so virulent that dwelling on it even now had

the power to stun her. The bitch who had demanded Owen’s body and soul in

exchange for Rachel’s life was an evil thing, a thing to be vanquished, and there was but

one way she knew to do that…

“You have paid a high price for my life, milord, and I will not forget it nor who is

responsible for the misery I see on your face,” she told her husband.

“Not that there is anything you can do about it,” Morrigunia bragged.

“You may have forced him into this, but you do not own his heart nor will you ever!”

Rachel vowed.

She did not feel any anger toward Owen. She put no blame on his broad shoulders.

He was but a pawn in this game. He had no more say over his life than any of the other

Reapers—perhaps even less. The animosity, the rage she felt toward Morrigunia was

aimed entirely at the redheaded viper who had forced this upon Rachel’s husband. She

felt no pity for herself—only for Owen who must endure the wretched embraces of a

creature he would forever be forced to service.

“I hated it, Rachel,” he whispered.

“I know and we’ll not discuss it again. It is over.”

He shook his head. “I wish it was but you know it isn’t.”

Rachel refused to think about that and changed the subject to take his mind from

the knowledge Morrigunia would call him again. “Where is your brother now?” she

asked.

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Owen shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. He put a hand behind Thielan’s head and

lifted the infant to his shoulder, jiggling him as the baby’s displeasure mounted. “When

She first brought him into the cell, I believe I could have killed him with my bare hands

but I had many months to rethink that. I knew what he was suffering in my stead and

as bad as I had it, I knew he had it far worse.”

“And now?” she asked. “How do you feel toward him now, my Owen?”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know. One part of me wants to make mincemeat of the

bastard but another part wants to grab him and hug him.” He looked up at the ceiling

then let out a long, wavering sigh. “The gods know the man is a part of me and always

will be. It would be like pulverizing myself.”

“He killed you,” she reminded him.

“Aye, and because of him the woman to whom I would have been Joined killed

herself. Morrigunia told me she leapt to her death and Eanan—unable to bear the

burden of his guilt—dove over the cliff after her. She made it a point to tell me he killed

for love and I died for love and that love was an emotion men could well do without.”

Rachel adjusted her nipple in Sheelan’s little mouth. “Do you believe that?”

He locked eyes with her. “No, I don’t believe that. I couldn’t live without you,

Rachel. I would have done anything to keep you with me.”

“And did,” she said quietly. Gently she removed Sheelan from her breast for the

little one was sound asleep, his sweet lips still drawing upon a phantom nipple. She laid

him on her belly and reached up for Thielan.

Thielan let out a single cry of protest but as soon as his mother had him positioned

at her other nipple, he latched on greedily and began to make loud sucking and

grunting noises.

“Oh, here we go. He’s going to be our badass,” Owen said of his eldest then picked

up Sheelan for the first time to cradle him in his arms.

“You know what you need to do,” Rachel said as she watched her oldest son feed.

She didn’t look up at her husband though she felt his gaze on her. “You need to tell the

witch that you want to meet with your brother.”

“And then what?” he asked.

She raised her head to give her husband a steady look. “You need to forgive him.”

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Chapter Twelve

He walked past her and into the cabin, his scrutiny running over the small room

before he turned back to face her. “Where’s the bantling?”

Mystery closed the door and slid the bolt into place before facing him, her back

against the portal. “She was getting fussy with no one to play with so I sent her to her

friend’s house.”

Glyn lay his hat aside and put his hands to the buttons of his slicker. “So we’re

alone?”

“All alone,” Mystery replied in a husky voice. She watched him peel out of the

slicker and unconsciously licked her lips as he hung it up. In that moment she decided

upon a course so unlike any she’d ever trod. Uncharacteristically, totally outside her

realm of comfort, she ran a hand across her breasts and down her side.

“Wench, don’t do that,” he warned as he reached down to undo the holster strap

tied to his thigh. “I’m likely to do something before we’re ready.”

She felt brazen and worldly but—more importantly—she felt free. “What would

you like to do?” she asked breathlessly.

A shiver ran through the Reaper’s big body. “Everything,
y chree
. I’m a bad man.”

She pushed away from the door and came slowly toward him. “That’s good

because today I’m a bad woman, milord.”

He paused with his hands on the buckle of his gun belt. Desire turned his amber

eyes dark. “Must be the rain.”

“Could be,” she agreed as she reached him. She pushed aside his hands and made

quick work of taking off his weapon. She wrapped the belt around the holster and set it

down on the table before putting her fingers to the belt at his waist. That she stripped

from him with ease then slid her hands up his chest to the top button of his shirt. “Or it

could be that I want you so badly I can’t stand it.”

Heat flared in Glyn’s veins and it was all he could do to stand there as she worked

her way down the buttons, tugged the shirt’s tail from his pants then unbuttoned his

cuffs. When her hands smoothed over his pectorals to push the shirt from his shoulders,

he felt his cock turn stone-hard. Her palms sliding over the points of his shoulders as

the shirt fell down his arms brought a low growl from his throat.

“Big, bad wolf,” she whispered, the shirt sliding to the floor at their feet.

He shot out an arm and encircled her, dragging her to him roughly, his head

lowering so he could slant his lips over hers, prying them apart to thrust his tongue

between. He kissed her long and hard as their tongues did a mating dance of their own

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then he dipped his knees, slipped an arm beneath hers and lifted her high against his

hard chest. It only took three strides to reach her bed.

Dipping a knee to the mattress, he laid her down and was over her before either

could take another breath. His fingers entwined hers and he drew her arms above her

head as he trailed hot kisses along her neck.

Mystery turned her head to the side and blissfully closed her eyes while his lips

roamed her neck, nibbled at her ear lobe for a moment. His tongue swept into the

sensitive spiral of flesh and robbed her of a soft gasp.

“You like that, milady?” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over her cheek and

winding its way down the responsive channel of her ear.

“Yes,” she breathed, and shuddered as he flicked his tongue beneath the curve of

her earlobe.

He moved farther down her body until his lips were at the hollow of her throat—

placing lightning-quick licks along the pulsing flesh. He kissed her there then

unthreaded the fingers of his right hand from hers and dragged his palm down her arm

and onto the soft mound of her breast.

Mystery drew in a quick breath, feeling his touch all the way to her womb. Her

insides clenched and began to coil tighter with each pass of his thumb over her

straining nipple. She could feel that little nub hardening against the fabric of her bodice.

When he raised his head and looked up at her, she felt the ache growing to dangerous

heights.

“Do you want to wait until our Joining night?” he asked, the look in his hot eyes

saying he would if she desired it.

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

“You’re sure?” he pressed.

“I am sure.”

The look in those amber orbs changed like quicksilver, telling her there would be no

turning back. She was about to go farther than she’d ever been—handing her heart into

a man’s keeping—and he would be the one to take her on that journey of discovery.

She would later wonder if what happened next had been because she willed it,

wanted it—no, demanded it of him—or if he had simply lost control of the iron will she

knew he possessed. It didn’t matter, because the moment he released her other hand,

reared up on his knees and snagged his fingers in her bodice, all rational thought fled

them both.

The dress ripped from neckline to waist and he jerked her up to snap the torn

bodice behind her and down her back to expose her soft chemise to his view. But that

garment was no protection for he made quick work of rending it, baring her breasts to

his hot hands and eager lips.

Mystery arched off the bed as his mouth closed around one hard little pebble. Her

arms were trapped by the rent bodice of the gown gathered at her waist. He was

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crouched between her legs, which were held fast by the weight of his lower body as he

knelt on the skirt of her gown.

His tongue swirled around her nipple, lapped at it. He teased it with his teeth then

suckled strongly before moving to its mate to lavish his attention upon it as well. His

hand roamed down her side then one came up to capture her breast so he could feast

deeper, harder, longer upon one rosy crest.

Moisture was gathering between Mystery’s legs and she ached in a way she had

never experienced. She wanted his shaft deep within her. She wanted to know the

width of it, the length and the strength. She wanted to feel him weighing her down as

he thrust over and over into her sheath. She wanted to dig her fingernails into his back

and lash her legs around his waist.

“Glyn, please!” she begged, and when he lifted his head, their eyes met and in his

was a desire that rocked her to her foundation.

He shifted to one side—levering his body over hers—then reached down and

dragged her skirt up until it was at her waist. He tore the panties from her and his hand

fumbled at the fly of his uniform pants.

She could hear him panting, could see a muscle bunching in his cheek and he

ground his teeth. His eyes were blazing embers filled with lust and need.

“My arms,” she said. “Free my arms so I can hold you.”

She felt his cock slide over her thigh and heard him groan. He seemed reluctant to

move off her so he could pull the gown all the way down her body. But when she lifted

her hips to accommodate him, the groan became a growl and he ripped the garment

from waist to hem off her.

Mystery wasted no time in circling his shoulders within the span of her arms the

moment those arms were free. She dragged him down to her and covered his mouth

with hers, thrusting her tongue deep inside. A part of her rejoiced at the sharp intake of

his breath at her bold action and she dug her fingernails into the flesh of his shoulders.

Once more she heard him groan but had little time to experience the heady feel of her

power over him for he was slamming his cock inside her.

He was grinding his mouth to hers, grinding his body to hers. He shoved his hands

beneath her hips and lifted her for deeper penetration. A grunt came from low in his

chest when she lifted her legs and locked them around his hips.

She reveled in the raw, hard power of his rod as he rammed it into her. There was

no gentleness in what he was doing and that was exactly what she wanted, what she

needed, how she had dreamed he would one day take her. Where her husband had