Taken by Moonlight (44 page)

Contempt
dripping from his person, Brennus hissed, “The pack will support me on this.”
With those parting words, he stormed out.

Swearing
viciously, Conall paced before his desk. If Brennus took his request to the
pack, and it was approved—as it would be—Vivienne would have no choice but to
fight. If she didn’t, she’d be ridiculed.

The door
swung open and he stopped mid-pace, lifting his head as her scent invaded his
body, both calming him and sending him wild. Vivienne stepped into the room,
one of his large T-shirts covering her almost to her knees. Her hair was still
wet, and the curls easily framed her pixieish face.

Closing the
door, she smiled warmly at him. “I heard you come in so I came downstairs—”

The rest of
her words died in his mouth. He’d moved so quickly she didn’t see him until he
was pressing her against the wall. Vivienne moaned and kissed him back, already
feeling moisture pooling between her legs in anticipation for him. Last night,
she’d fallen asleep before he came to bed, so she hadn’t gotten her fill. She’d
come to his study to ask about his day, maybe talk a bit about what her mother
had told her yesterday, and ultimately coax him into bed so she could have her
wicked way with him. A blush had stolen across her cheeks as she made her way
to the study, but the man was like good Swiss chocolate on top of vanilla ice cream.
Wickedly delicious.

She heard a
rip somewhere in the distance and then his large hands were squeezing her
breasts, moving down over her belly, pushing into her panties. The pad of a
thick finger pressed against her sensitive nub and began a soft but firm
caress. Vivienne pulled away to haul in deep breaths. His tongue licked at her
jaw, moved up to her cheek, before dipping across to her earlobe. She felt a
sting at her hip—another pair of her panties torn to shreds, along with his
shirt—and then his big hands were spanning her buttocks, lifting her.

Locking her
legs around his waist, she lifted her arms and placed them on his shoulders.
Now level with him, she could read the need in his liquid gaze, and wondered if
she looked as desperate as he. She probably looked even more desperate.
Vivienne heard the clinking of a belt buckle, and gasped as the smooth head of
his sex brushed against her slick lips.

She grew
frantic. While she was completely naked, he was barely undressed. Pushing her
hands into his jacket, she removed it, and quickly undid the buttons of the
shirt he wore underneath. Vivienne moaned as her fingers caressed hard abs,
feeling them jump beneath her fingers.

Conall
swore and caught her hands, securing them to the door above her head before
capturing her lips again. In the next moment, he was driving up into her with a
force that made them both cry out. He released her hands and she locked them
around his neck. Reaching under her, he caught her buttocks and began to thrust
wildly into her.

Coherent
sounds were beyond her as she leaned her head against the door and concentrated
on the pleasure of him moving inside of her. She gasped, she whimpered, she
mewled, and he continued, grunting, moaning, waiting for her….

It crept up
on her. Vivienne was working her hips against him when her body seized and
electrical bolts rushed from her center to little nerve endings all over her
body. She cried his name, slumping forward as she tried to catch her breath.

Conall
continued his strong thrusts, and Vivienne found herself clutching his broad
shoulders once more, her breaths hitching as her eyes clenched tight. She felt
his mouth over her shoulder, right next to her neck, moments before his teeth
sank into her.

“Ah!” she
moaned, the pain, the pleasure, Conall…. Her nails raked his back and his
thrusts grew even stronger. She felt him swell and pushed her legs further
apart as her feet at his buttocks pulled him closer. As his entire length came
inside her, she whimpered, and promptly burst apart. Through the foggy haze of
her second orgasm, she felt his heat as it splashed against her insides, and
hugged him closer.

When her
breathing regulated and her voice returned, she murmured, “This pinning thing
is not convenient for all positions.”

Conall lifted
his head from her shoulder and she moaned a bit as his teeth left her body. He
licked at what she imagined to be two pearls of blood, before replying with a
little laugh, “Lean your weight on me, and try not to move.”

Vivienne
did as told, watching him. The sated expression on his face made her smile.

“So,
Conall, how was your day?” It was a question that a girlfriend or wife asked
her guy when he came home, before the heated sex against his study door. No.
She’d watched enough movies and had never seen a portrayal of sex against the
door quite like what had just happened.

A dark brow
lifted before Conall released a throaty laugh. Her body warmed again, and
Vivienne scolded herself. He was still inside her, for crying out loud, and
here she was getting turned on from his laughter.

“My day
just got infinitely better,” he replied smoothly, to which Vivienne smirked and
passed her hand through his hair.

“You should
ask me about my day,” she prompted, massaging his scalp.

The cocky
little grin should have warned her, for moments later he kissed her thoroughly
before replying in the masculine way of a man sure of himself and his woman.

“Your day
just got infinitely better too,
alainn
.”

“You’ve
been avoiding me.”

She’d
fallen asleep. That voice alerted her to the fact as surely as the comfortable
bed on which she lay, and the sound of gently cresting waves. After spending
the majority of two days going over her spells and consuming what should amount
to a tub of caffeine, she’d finally succumbed to her own exhaustion.

Popping
from the bed, Cassandre clutched her loose-fitting white T-shirt dress as she
scanned the beach, relying on her heightened senses to see in the dark. She
found it strange that night had fallen upon the place, especially as she’d
never visited during such a time. After a thorough scan still resulted in no
Alexander, she perched on the side of the bed. Was she dreaming about dreaming
about Alexander? Was that even possible?

“You’re not
dreaming, Cassandre.”

She spun,
thinking to find him standing behind her, or next to her, but she could only
see darkness. Deciding she’d spent entirely too long considering where he was,
she was about to recite the spell that would take her back to her room when
something grabbed her. Her eyes were open, so she could see that nothing stood
before her, but something was holding her. Not necessarily hands, but a
powerful energy.

Her scream
came easily, and she tugged against the force.

“Please…just
listen to me. I vow not to harm you, and I will release you in a few moments. I
swear it.”

Warmth
infused her body, and she found herself calming instantly.

“You’ve
obviously been enlightened on my history,” he began, only to have her put up
one last futile struggle.

“Yes,
you’re a murderer of innocents! They even nicknamed you Alexander the Avenger!”

“Yes,” he
agreed, and Cassie’s anger seemed to multiply.

Did he have
nothing to say for himself except “yes?” How had she misjudged him so? She was
usually a good judge of character. She’d known when her creepy college
professor had had ulterior motives in suggesting that she come to him for
evening tutoring. And yet she couldn’t figure out that a handsome but strange
man who conveniently appeared in her dreams, told her the story of the druids,
and gave her his own spell book, was working toward his own motives?
Resurrecting the druids and possibly wiping out the rest of the world?

“I am a
killer, a murder of innocents as you’ve said, but we were in the midst of a
war. The witches killed hundreds of my people in the name of war, and tortured
countless more. Every race has committed shocking crimes against another, and
at times, their own people. The humans are a testament to that for even without
our powers, they have come close to destroying their world.”

“War?
You’re using the excuse of war—” she broke off abruptly when a thought struck
her. She was talking to herself! Well, she was talking to him, but she couldn’t
see him so that made it seem like she was talking to herself! “Where are you?”

“I assumed
you would not wish to see my face after the things you’ve learned.”

Cassie
scoffed and repeated in a bitter voice, “
You
assumed
I
would not
want to see
your
face?”

“Yes.”

“Then why
am I here?” Alexander Petraeus was not only a killer, he was one invisible
contradiction! “I’m not having a conversation with a man I can’t see!”

He appeared
directly before her. On his face was an expression of pain, regret, and still
he looked extremely handsome. Bastard. Half of his face was obscured in shadow,
the other half catching the light of the moon above them. Why did he always
look as if he were a sexy photo still?

“I never
lied to you, Cassandre. I brought you here to give you the information you
needed to make a decision that will affect my people.”

Resurrecting
them?
she thought
with a scoff.
Like that’s going to happen now.

As if
reading her mind, Alexander’s mouth tightened, and he stepped away. The energy
released her immediately, and Cassie wriggled her arms.

“They are
not the monsters they are made out to be,” he said in a soft voice. “My people
have suffered centuries for the crimes of few.”

“You?”

He turned
to her, and she saw a flicker of emotion cross his eyes before he closed them.
“Yes, me and some others.”

Crossing
her arms, Cassie contemplated projecting herself out. Something instinctive
told her he’d meant what he’d said, that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“I told you
of the druids, my people, of their lives before they were banished, their
commitment to family, and to each other, but I’ve never told you how the
banishment came about.”

No, he
hadn’t. She’d heard all of those stories from her mother though so there wasn’t
really anything else he could tell her. He turned to face her.

“We—I was
tricked. The battle between the druids and witches had been raging for years,
and our losses were deep on both sides. My people were tired of the fighting,
the death, so we suggested a truce. I made our wishes known to the grand
wizards commanding the witch armies, and a neutral meeting ground was arranged.”
His voice changed, becoming so cold that despite the warm beach, Cassie
shivered. “As the leader of the druid armies, I took three others with me,
expecting a small procession of grand wizards, and a discussion that would end
with a truce. It was our intent to live separately from the witches, something
that had not been done since their existence, by creating our very own
covenants in different cities. We walked into a trap. As soon as we entered, we
were attacked, and under the combined powers of twelve grand wizards, I was
rendered useless.” A snarl curled his lip, making him look beautifully cruel.
“After killing the druids who’d come with me, they began the incantations for a
banishment spell. Had I been free of my restraints, I might have—” He broke off
immediately and returned his attention to the mellow waves. “They used me as
the sacrifice to open the portals to the hidden realms, and with their combined
powers, and the call of the portal, my people had no chance of resisting.”

Cassie felt
a soft cry catch in her throat. Under the pale moonlight, he looked so…sad. An
emotion arose in her so suddenly she was taking a step forward before she had
time to think on it. Luckily, her brain interceded, and she heard herself say,
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

It was a
valid question. How was she to know he wasn’t lying? The fate of his people
seemed to rest in the hands of herself and her sister, and he could very well
be telling her what she wanted to hear in order to see if she would work in his
favor.

Alexander
approached her, his hands reaching out to grip her shoulders gently. As he did
so, his eyes began to glow. The pale green seemed ever paler, but infused with
white light, so much brighter.

“Alexander?”
she began, only to find that the beach and Alexander had slipped away.

She was now
staring down at dozens of dead bodies lying on grass that had once been green
but was now stained red. The stench of blood hit her, pungent and rank, almost
pushing her to her knees. Eyes widening in horror, she clasped her hands over
her mouth and nose, and assessed the horrifying scene. Women, children—oh dear
God, were those…? Her eyes zoomed in on the corpse of a baby, and her eyes
teared. Where was she? What was this?

She didn’t
have to wonder long, however, for she soon heard an angry bellow of rage from
behind her, and turned. Immediately, she saw the stones. Large boulders that
seemed to create a circle around other large boulders. Even in the dark, she
recognized those stones. She’d been here once, on a trip with a few of her
college friends.
Stonehenge
.