MacRieve (Immortals After Dark) (2 page)

The idea of Ruelle openly criticizing someone so much stronger was laughable.

As if on cue, her gray eyes misted with tears. She even cried prettily.
“You know I cannot do that, can never show my face to them. They will kill me, just for what I am.”

His parents wouldn’t necessarily welcome her into the pack with open arms, but surely Ruelle exaggerated about their reaction. “No Lykae would ever harm another’s mate. We revere matehood above all things.”

“What if they don’t believe what we know to be true?” She pulled the silk covers over her breasts defensively. “Why do you continue to argue with me?”

“Because keeping this secret for so long sits ill.” Lately it’d been weighing on him more and more, but he’d at least wait until after his mam gave birth to her bairn before revealing his secret. She was a couple of months along, just starting to show. Her “three braw lads”—as she called her husband, Will, and Munro—all sensed she carried a daughter and were ecstatic about the fact. Mam wanted to call her Isla.

A wee lass to spoil? Even now Will’s lips curled with anticipation. He and Munro could scarcely wait until she was old enough to learn how to hunt, to fish.

Aye, his family needed no tumult now. Best to get back. He quickly donned his boots. “We’ll speak of this in the future.”

“No, we will
not.
” Her gray eyes flickered to jade green, usually the only sign that her emotions were running high. “If you can’t respect my wishes in something so important, then do not return for four nights.”

Will froze. The fire in the hearth crackled. The wind whipped snow against the windows. “You doona mean it.”

“I do.”

“Four!” he bit out in disbelief. “You’d punish me thus?” The longest he’d gone was three. He’d barely survived the sickness.

“I wish that you hadn’t forced me to.”

“
I
forced you?” Everything was always his fault. When he’d panicked during their first time making love and wanted to wait, she was not to be denied—and it was his fault for being “irresistible” to her. He’d wanted to bring home all the gifts she’d given him—mainly to lord them over his
twin—but she’d refused: “Your parents will suspect; it’s not
my
fault that you were born into a closed-minded family.”

And now he was to go the better part of a week without returning. At the thought of the agony he’d soon experience, his Lykae beast stirred. Though his da, uncles, and older cousins were training him to harness that wild force within him, Will unleashed it each time Ruelle mated him.

“One day, Ruelle, you will push me too far.”

“Oh? And then what will you do?” she asked with a triumphant look, for they both knew the truth.

He was bound to her for eternity. Doubly so—not just because she was his Lykae mate, but because of the tie he’d willfully borne after three visits to her bed.

He was fettered to her for the rest of his life. Or for the length of hers.

“But before you go, my love, I truly do need once more.”

With a painful surge, his exhausted body reacted against his will, readying for her to take. He grimaced, panic setting in, his breaths shallowing. “You told me you’d no’ use your strew again!” It was how she’d gotten him to mate her in the beginning. He shuddered to remember those times. A sickly feeling roiled in his gut as he struggled to withstand her, knowing how futile it was.

“Why fight me?” Eyes glowing green, she dropped the sheet. “Any male would kill to be with me.” She traipsed over and embraced him, pressing his face against her breast, against scented white flesh.

He couldn’t get enough air. “I canna—Ruelle, nay!” Already his beast was rising, protectively.

She pulled back, grasping his chin, hard. “Your eyes turn blue,” she said with a satisfied smile. “Your beast and I will take care of everything. Just as we always do.”

“You promised me!”

She pressed him down on her bed, then rose above him, the position she chose without fail. “Look at you, my love. Who could possibly blame me?”

And the deep dragged him down. . . .

Conall Keep, Northern Outpost of the Woods of Murk

THREE NIGHTS LATER

All day the sickness had grown worse until Will’s body was a mass of pain. By midnight, he felt like his bones were breaking. Outside, the storm gusted winds, but the great Conall Keep was indifferent to them.

He wrapped his arms around himself, rocking over his damp sheets, praying he wouldn’t be plagued with hallucinations this time.

No use fighting this. He would go to Ruelle tonight.

The idea of running for leagues through a blizzard in this condition made him shudder. Not to mention that he’d be entering the Woods alone, weak, in the middle of the night.

Fantastical creatures teemed in that forest, bloodthirsty beings from other realms.

Munro stirred in his nearby bed, as if sensing his twin’s distress, even in sleep. Will envied Munro, who could remain snug in his bed, warm and safe within the impervious keep of their ancestors.

This place had been built by them for future Sentinels of the Woods, the warriors tasked with making sure the creatures of Murk never strayed beyond its boundaries—and that Lykae never ventured within.

When Will rose to dress, stabbing his legs into trews, Munro roused and sat up. “Where are you going?” He lit a candle, illuminating the room they shared.

“ ’Tis no concern o’ yours.”

A flash of hurt flickered in Munro’s golden eyes—eyes exactly like his own, only . . . graver. Despite being identical twins, he and Munro had opposing personalities. Will was oft called impetuous like their mother, Munro solemn like their da.

“You used to tell me everything, Will.”

Ruelle had warned against that. She’d helped him see Munro’s jealous nature. Munro was envious of his twin, simmering with hatred toward his slightly older brother, the heir.

I’m much more mature for my age, and Munro knows it, canna stand it.

In fact, she’d helped Will see the faults in all his friends.

“Are you going into the Woods?” Munro asked, pulling on his own breeches. “To see that female in the odd cottage?”

A stark contrast to the dreary woods, Ruelle’s home was brightly painted, with intricate eaves and spindles, as if from a fey’s dream. And Munro had never even seen the inside! It was not only fantastical, but
mystical
—she’d told him it had been standing for centuries, immune to decay.

“What do you know of her?” Will asked, struggling to focus his vision as another wave of pain hit. The tunic he’d just donned was already moist with sweat.

“I know the tales surrounding her.”

“That she’s a hideous old crone who lures youths to their doom? That she fattens them up, then feeds on their flesh? The rumors are false.” The fact that Ruelle cooked feasts for him and then used his body for nourishment wasn’t lost on Will. “Are you going to tell Da?” Or, gods forbid, their mother. No she-wolf could be fiercer than Ailis MacRieve.

’Twas one thing that Will had found his mate in a different species; ’twas another that he’d been lying to all of them.

“No need,” Munro said quietly. “Mam and Da already suspect you’ve been sneaking out.”

“Because you told them!”

Again came that flash of hurt, like a creature kicked in the flank. “You ken I would no’ do that, brother.”

Will . . . believed him. At these times, when Munro continued to prove loyal to him, Will couldn’t reconcile all the things Ruelle had told him.

His beast was cut from the same soul as Munro’s; it longed to run beside his brother’s forever. Surely Munro felt the same way?

“What has happened to you, Will? Why do you never talk to me? Why do you never play or laugh anymore?” Munro looked wary and vulnerable—a mere boy.

Do
I
look so young?
“It’s complicated. Just let me handle this as I need to, and I’ll be back soon.” Will finished dressing. “Mayhap we’ll talk then.”

Without a backward glance, he hastened from the room to descend
the main stairs and head out into the blustery night. He’d just felt the first crunch of snow beneath his boots when he heard, “And where might you be off to, Uilleam Andriu MacRieve?”

Mam.
Oh, shite.
He turned to face her, trying to disguise how bad his shakes had gotten.

She emerged from the shadows, joining him under the swirling snow. Her cheeks were pink, her doe-brown eyes narrowed. “You were too ill to come down for meals today—or to do your chores—and now I find you stealing away in the middle of the night?”

He had waited too long, should’ve made a run for Ruelle’s last night. If Mam kept him from her tonight . . . Much longer, and he’d grow crazed. A hallucination danced at the edges of his vision, the dark closing in. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other; both felt like they’d snap at any second.

She tilted her head. “You go to meet a lass, no doubt. Thirteen is too young, son. Your da will tell you the same.”

“I know, Mam. I’m sorry.”
Ah, gods, my bones.

She cupped his clammy face, her eyes going wide. “Ach, my Uilleam, you’re burning up!”

“I have to go!” He could almost scent Ruelle’s perfumes. Could almost taste the rouge with which she adorned her skin.

He could all but feel her milk-white arms wrapping around him. “Can you no’ trust me, Mam?”

“You’re sick, no’ thinking clearly. You canna be out in the snow; you need to be abed.”

“Please, just go back inside and doona worry over this. I’ll return anon.”

She snatched his arm and yelled over her shoulder, “Dugh! Come out here!
Now.
”

Will heard two sets of footsteps stomping down the stairs into the main hall. Da and Munro.

Desperation boiled up inside him. “I’ve got to go!” He flung his arm free, shoving against his mother.

Mam tripped, falling down into the hard-packed snow. She gaped up at him, her eyes watering. “Will?”

He was horrified. He would rather die than harm her. “I’m so sorry! Have I hurt you? The babe?”

Her hands went to her belly as if to protect the wee girl.
Protect Isla from me?

But then Mam’s tears dried. Her inner beast began to rise, her eyes turning ice blue. Never, never, a good sign. Shite!

“You’ve no’ hurt me, boy,” she growled, her fangs lengthening. “Best worry for your own hide.”

Just as Da and Munro made the doorway, she snapped to Will, “Hie your arse inside. Now!”

Da helped Mam to her feet, glancing from her to his son with his jaw slackened. “Have you lost your bluidy mind, Will?”

Aye! Will glanced over his shoulder toward the Woods of Murk, imagining the relief, the end of this pain. He whimpered—

Da’s massive hand clamped Will’s neck. “In you go!” He squired Will to a seat before Conall’s great hearth fire. After getting a better look at his son’s face, he added another log to the flames.

With his tall form outlined by the flickering light, Da looked even more intimidating than usual. Will swallowed, darting a glance at his twin.

Munro’s slow nod and steady gaze seemed to say,
We’ll get through this. Keep your head.
It helped.

Their mother crossed to sit close by her mate. Mam and Da were always near each other, as if their beasts were tethered with an invisible leash.

Her ire was clearly fading as she stared at Will’s sweating face. “Dugh, we need to send for a physic.”

“I fear I know what’s wrong with him.” Da turned to him. “Where were you going, son?” He seemed to hold his breath.

Will couldn’t lie to his face. And more, he had to trust what he knew of his father’s character—and Lykae law—over Ruelle’s overwrought predictions.
No Lykae will harm another’s mate.
“I was going to see my female, a woman who lives in the Woods.”

Silence reigned. His words seemed to hang in the air.

When Da exhaled a stunned breath and Mam looked stricken, a marked unease stole over Will.

Ruelle had predicted that they wouldn’t understand; she’d never mentioned that they’d be
disgusted.

Turning to Da, Mam muttered, “Too young, ah gods, he’s too young.” She rose unsteadily to gather a blanket. Wrapping it around Will’s shoulders, she said, “Warm yourself, lad. You’ve a long night ahead of you.” He noticed with dread that her eyes watered once more.

“
Why
am I too young? Humans wed when they’re no’ much older than I.” Of course, he’d prepared these arguments, fashioning them from those he’d heard Ruelle say.

“Humans must!” Da began to pace. “In these harsh lands, they scarcely live longer than your age! But you, Will, you can potentially
live forever.
In any case, you’re far too young to be in the clutches of one like her.”

This was his mate they spoke of! Surely she was.

“Do you no’ know what she is?” Da spat the words: “She’s a
succubus.
”

“Ruelle told me this, right off.”

“Aye, but do you understand what the word means, what her kind do?”

Will’s eyes darted. “It means that we are so connected we’ll suffer without each other.” After three nights of mating a succubus, a male would take on her essence, her mystical venom, binding himself to her until death.

Mam said, “It means she’s a parasite.” Her tears fell. “One who sank her claws into my lad.” He’d never seen his mother cry before this eve. “She’s envenomed you. ’Tis why you have sickness.”

“Then I need to reach her. It’s been three days. If I’m feeling this way, then so is she.”

Da shook his head. “Unlike you, she can take another. I’d be shocked if she does no’ have a stable of lovers. Even in the Woods, she could lure others.”

Impossible. Ruelle loved Will alone.

Da finally sank down beside Mam. “How long have you been seeing her?”

Will hesitated.

In a tone brooking no disobedience, Da snapped, “How—long?”

Forcing his shoulders back, Will answered, “I first went to her cottage four years ago.”

Da shot back to his feet. His mother pressed the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle a retching sound. Had there been a glimmer of rage in Da’s eyes? A glimpse of his beast? Never had Da unleashed it before them.