“Just because one man betrayed you, Your Highness, does not mean we all have such nefarious desires.”
Her eyes narrow. She’s gorgeous, of course. And the look of evil doesn’t take away from her beauty. Her lips are pouty and red, her cheeks flushed with anger. The curve of her breasts is always alluring and I know if I took her right now I could banish the Morrigan back to her tiny corner of Morgan’s soul.
But my job isn’t to fuck the devil. It’s to protect the angel that houses her. We’ll consummate this relationship when she’s ready. Today is not that day.
“Why have you summoned me,” she finally states more than asks. The mark on her forehead shimmers.
“That little stunt you pulled today? That can’t happen again. Our job is not only to protect Morgan, it’s to protect this realm. You’re not going to start the apocalypse here—not again.”
“That wasn’t a stunt. I was simply showing the girl her home. Where she’s from.” She flexes her hands. “She has a right to know her history. Is that so wrong?”
Her eyes twinkle with amusement, as though I’m nothing but a speck. I keep my emotions close but make my intentions clear. “We’ll kill her before we allow your evil to spread. One victim is enough. It will stop at two.”
“Then why not just do it? Just take me out right now?” She looks me up and down. “You can’t, can you? Not before you’ve had your taste.” Now she laughs and a cold edge rolls down my back. “Men. So typical, always thinking with your cock. Why do you think it’s taking her so long to pick a mate? Why do you think she’s prolonging this entire affair?”
“She’s making a conscientious decision. It’s a mate. Forever.”
“She’s playing you for a fool.” She sighs. “You learn nothing. Nothing! But whatever, dear Guardian, let the girl have her fun while she pussy whips you all into submission. All the better for me.”
“Shut up.”
Her eyebrow arches and her she licks her lip. “Why do you think she’s holding out on you in particular, dear?”
“I’m not the only one.”
“You mean the cripple?” She snorts. “She’s only kind to him out of guilt. She doesn’t need his power—too weak. My minion took care of him years ago. You? She just likes toying with you. You’ll never truly get a taste of her. She knows what you are—what you’ve always been.”
A rush of anger boils over me and I reach for her throat. My hand clasps around the thin column of flesh and I say, “You won’t divide us. Together we are strong. We’re here to expel you and the mis
ery that you bring to this place.” Her eyes bulge and I detect a hint of fear. I reach for the blade strapped to my leg and hold it against her temple.
The door bursts open and both Sam and Bunny run down the hall. Each take a side but I step back and drop the blade. Bunny takes the pot from my pocket and rubs the mark, making it shine in a fresh coat of gold. Morgan blinks, recognition flaring for just a moment before she slips off to sleep again.
“Fucking bitch,” I grumble, kicking a chair and toppling it to the side.
“She’s evil, Dylan. It’s what she does. She plays mind games and tricks people. She gets in your head, causes doubt,” Sam says, picking up the chair.
I glance at Bunny and see the pain in his eyes. He heard her. He heard her and no matter how quickly he looks away, I know he believes what she said. I want to say something but no words come out. Storming out of the room, I can’t help but think that I may believe the Morrigan too.
Chapter Thirteen
Morgan
I wake, slumped in a chair with my hands bound to the arms with black leather ties. My neck aches from being at an awkward angle and I stretch, feeling the burn in my muscles.
“Feeling better?” Dylan asks. He’s sitting in a chair directly across from mine. His eyes are narrow and wary.
“I guess.” I jerk my wrists. “What’s this about?”
“She took over. Fully.”
“Who?” I ask, but I know the answer. I still feel the Morrigan lingering in my veins. I wrinkle my nose. “Was it bad?”
“You fought us at the park. It took three of us to bring you in and Bunny knocking you out with a spell.”
I search my memory. It’s hazy at best. I remember Sam and the park. Getting angry with him and then chasing after him. I remember the gate—it was there—it’s real, but beyond that I recall nothing but the sensation of cold air and the sound of the Morrigan in my head. I tell this to Dylan and the crease on his forehead only deepens.
“So I fought you?” Oh boy. One of them I could take. But three? That seems foolish even for the Morrigan. “How did I do?”