Beauty (A Faery Story 3)

Bron shook in his arms. Why had Lach thought for a second she could be dead? Fire could not kill Shim’s mate. Death could not take Lach’s. Had he gotten every bit of optimism between them? It was brutally obvious that Lachlan had gotten all the fighting skill. There were dead bodies everywhere, some fresh and some seemingly ancient. They lay around the courtyard, though despite their placement, it still seemed to Shim that they lay at Lach’s feet just waiting for the moment when their master called to them again.

Bron moaned a little, her eyes fluttering open only to close again.

His cock stood up straight in his pants. Just being near her, smelling her, touching her was driving him crazy. He had to try to focus on anything but her. She filled his senses, his world. Someone was saying

something, but all he could do was stare at the woman in his arms. His mate. His bridge.

He wiped away a smudge on her face. She was so much more slender than she’d been in her dreams, her hands callused and her face slightly red from time in the sun. Thirteen years of running and being forced to work like a peasant had taken their toll, but she was still so beautiful to him. He would coddle her and cosset her and feed her. She wouldn’t have to worry again. He would take her off this plane, and she would never fear for her life or work a plow or go hungry again. She would be his sweet wife, protected from all the bad things of the world.

Of course, one of the bad things of the world appeared to be his other half. Lach stood staring down at them, his body covered in blood, his eyes huge and foreign in his face. The goblin blood was working in Lach’s veins, too.

“She smells so good.” Lach got to one knee, seemingly dazed by the sight of her.

“Lachlan, you can’t touch her like that, and we’re out in the open.” A firm, feminine voice broke through his haze. “You two have mating fever. This isn’t the time or the place. Take a step back and let me get Bronwyn someplace safe.”

Shim heard the growl coming from his own throat. He felt a little feral. The blood, the heat, the closeness of his Bron. He suddenly realized he didn’t want anyone else around. He wanted Bron. It was past time to take her. She fucking belonged to him. She’d been promised to him since the moment of her birth, and he wouldn’t allow one more thing to come between them.

Lach’s huge dark eyes focused on their mate. “Bronwyn.” Lach touched her hair before letting his hands float, skimming across her skin, pausing at the vein in her neck. “She’s alive.”

Shim nodded, ignoring the fact that a crowd seemed to be gathering.

“Our sister is here. Gillian’s alive.” Lach said the words, but he was wholly focused on Bron.

“Shim, please think for a second.” Gillian had moved in closer, delicately moving around the bodies of the fallen. “You can’t take her here.”

“She is ours.” Lach spoke around the fangs in his mouth. “We’ll take her where we want to. She belongs to us.”

Yes, his brother was definitely feeling the fever, and now some of Gillian’s words were breaking through. Bron was hurt. Bron wasn’t even conscious. Did they intend to push her skirts up right here on the battlefield, the dead all around them?

It would prove once and for all what animals they were. Yes, when her brothers discovered how they had treated Bronwyn, they would be welcomed with open arms.

Lach’s face was in her hair, breathing in her scent, letting it flow around him. Lach growled a little, his hand moving to her breast. If Shim didn’t stop him, the fever would take control, and there would be no stopping the warrior half. The dead all around them proved Lach was capable of giving in to the beast that lay inside their soul.

“Please, Shim. I understand the fever, but Bronwyn will not. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t even know you’re real.” Gillian took another cautious step forward. “Please. If you give in to the fever, you’ll take her with not an ounce of thought to her. She’s a virgin. I made sure of it. I’ve protected her for thirteen years because I knew she was your mate. Trust me. Take her back to the tower. Give her and yourselves some privacy.”

Bron’s eyes fluttered open. Shim stopped, terrified that the next sound would be Bronwyn’s scream. Brown eyes looked at him. She seemed unfocused, shaky. Her hand came, brushing his chin. “My Shim?”

His heart leapt. “Yours.”

“Lach?”

Lach kissed her forehead. “Is here now, love.”

“What is wrong with your eyes?” She tried to sit up.

Before Shim could explain, she doubled over, her knees coming up and a low wail moving from her mouth. Pain was etched on her face, her hands stiffening into fists.

“Please make it stop. Why won’t it stop?”

Shim looked to his sister. “What is wrong with her? I can’t feel her. I should be able to feel her. We’re bonded, but there is nothing connecting us now.”

His sister seemed to be treating them like dangerous predators. She moved forward slowly, holding her hands out to show she had no weapons. Even though she moved cautiously, Shim found himself clutching Bron tighter, and Lach bared his fangs.

“I am not taking her from you. Damn it. Calm down both of you. You’re scaring the entire village, and we seem to need them as you did not bring an army with you.” Gillian stood in front of them.

“They left the army behind.” The phooka had moved from his perch on the roof to the pole that had held Bron. He hung there, his claws sunk deep. “Though I wouldn’t call it an army exactly. More like a little squadron.”

“And they brought along a little devil.” Gillian frowned at the phooka before turning her gaze back to her brothers. “Do you not know what that is? It’s a trickster. Did he trick you away from father’s men?”