The Darkest Warrior (Lords of the Underworld 14)

Her fragmented thoughts struggled to keep up. Pucky lucky... Puck. The most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Yes, he overshadowed William, reminding her of an Egyptian prince she'd once seen in a history book, but with a lot more bulk. Seriously, the guy looked like he'd taught Jason Momoa how to work out. And when he spoke...goodbye sanity. He had a slight Irish accent that had sent shivers down her spine.

His eyes were the color of frosted coal and rimmed by the longest, thickest lashes of all time. At first glance, she'd thought he wore eyeliner, and a thousand layers of jet-black mascara. Nope. On him, the smoky look was all natural.

He had cheekbones as sharp as glass, an imperial nose, and lips as soft and dewy as a dark pink rose, the bottom one plumper than the top one.

Also at first glance, the sight of his horns had frightened her. She'd flinched, the urge to fight or take flight rising up strong. Fight? Me? Please! Had she been strong enough, she would have run as if her feet were on fire.

At second glance, those horns had intrigued her. She wasn't sure why.

The man never smiled. Actually, his expression never betrayed a hint of emotion. He appeared detached from the world around him, unaffected by...absolutely everything. Except maybe...me. Once or twice he'd seemed to burn for her.

A mistake on her part?

However, despite his beastly attributes and cold demeanor, he'd been nothing but honorable. He'd asked for her help, and in return, he'd wanted her to help him feel some kind of emotion. Could she?

Shouldn't she try? On one hand, Puck was her last hope. Her only hope. Possibly her salvation. On the other hand, if she died, there'd be no more misery or fear. No more weakness. The past would be wiped away.

Fight at long last, Gillian. Please. Fight!

Fight to live? Fight evil? Could she? she wondered again.

This time, the answer crashed into her mind with the force of a Mack truck. Yes! She could fight evil. Needed to fight evil. There were too many young girls and boys being abused by people in positions of power, and they deserved a champion.

I want to be a champion.

Hello, bucket list.

For too long, she'd had no purpose. Fear had owned her, robbing her of joy, hope and pleasure. But no longer! Today was a new day. The girl she used to be was gone, a new one rising in her place.

For the first time in her life, she had a reason to live. So, yes, she would fight.

"That's right," Keeley said, as if reading her thoughts. "This is your destiny. The reason you were born. The first step is always the hardest, but don't worry, soon you'll be running." She cleaned Gillian from top to bottom with a wet rag, then combed her hair and brushed her teeth. "Bonus: William won't spiral and blame himself for your death, yesterday, today or tomorrow."

William, sweet William. "Maybe one day someone will make a movie about your life," Keeley said. "Eighteen and Married to an Immortal--and a Demon! But truth is stranger than fiction, eh? Who would believe it?"

Gillian was living it and she could hardly believe it. Puck had said a bond to him would do the trick. She might have agreed, if he hadn't wanted to have sex with her.

Sex remained on her never-never list.

"There will come a time when you eagerly, happily put sex on your always-always list," Keeley whispered, again seeming to read Gillian's thoughts and more certainly proving herself to be a hallucination. "Admit it. You ache for Puck."

Her? Ache? When the beautiful warrior with muscles galore had looked at her with ice-cold eyes--the eyes of a predator. Eyes that said he would hunt his prey for hours, days, waiting for the perfect time to strike. No. But when he'd maybe/maybe not looked at her with smoldering heat, her body had seemed to wake from a deep sleep, her heart rate speeding up, different parts of her throbbing, desperate to learn the meaning of bliss.

Could he teach her?

Of course, an all-too-familiar fear had engulfed her each time. Almost as much guilt, too. How dare her body betray William?

Such a foolish thought. William was a friend, nothing more.

Did she still want more? If not, fine. She could bond to Puck and save her life. If yes...she had to proceed with caution. If she bonded to Puck, she'd have zero chance of being with William, ever.

Keeley pressed her lips against Gillian's forehead. "Marriage to Puck will give you a clean slate. You'll reset, have a fresh start. Just...survive now, and figure out the rest later, okay?"

Clean slate. Fresh start. From frightened mouse to fearless champion.

As sleep beckoned, Gillian got trapped on a single thought: William or Puck?

10

Eyes springing open, Puck jolted upright. Panting, he scanned his surroundings. An empty, wardless cave, with a doorway to another realm in the far corner. But...it wasn't the same doorway he'd used to enter the realm. Where would this one lead?

On the far wall, he spotted a message written in blood. Some of the letters had dripped together.

Ask again. She's ready to Say Yes to the Dress.

The dress? What dress?

Facts rolled through his mind, an avalanche picking up debris along a downward slide. Torin and Keeley, carrying him to safety... Gillian, dying...too late.

Too late? No!

An unfamiliar tide of urgency propelled Puck to his feet. His strength had returned, and he needed to keep it. Allow no emotion. React to nothing.

How much time had passed since last he'd been with Gillian? A few days? A week?

He did a quick survey of his attire. Clean T-shirt, new loincloth. He thought he remembered Keeley saying, Barbarian works for you. Let's maintain the look.

As he rushed out of the cave, instinct demanded he grab the nylon bag in his path. Without slowing his pace, he checked the contents. Toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, hairbrush. Courtesy of Torin and Keeley? Wanting him to look and smell his best for Gillian?

Puck used each item, refusing to be grateful.

The closer he came to the beach house, the more Gillian's pained moans assaulted his ears. He fought a pang of sympathy, and summoned a new layer of ice--more than ever before--until only his goals mattered.

He pumped his arms and legs faster. "You had best hold on, lass. I'm almost there."

Finally! He reached his destination. As he scaled the second floor, a warm tide of relief swept through him only to freeze when it encountered the ice. Excellent.

The balcony doors were already open, making things easy for him. He leaped onto the railing and flew inside the bedroom, where he found Gillian on the bed, as still as a statue.

As she inhaled a breath, death rattled in her lungs. Blue tinged her lips. She wasn't getting enough oxygen. She was nothing but skin and bones, wasting away.

Will not react.

William knew what was wrong with her, knew there was only one way to save her; the bastard could have bonded to her and saved her from this. Instead, he let her suffer while he searched for nonexistent, unproven ways to maybe perhaps hopefully keep her ar

ound a little longer.

He didn't deserve her. But he would learn better. Sometimes you had to lose a treasure in order to understand its value. Today, Puck would begin William's lessons.

Determined, he slid his arms under Gillian's body. Afraid of breaking her fragile bones, he lifted her against his chest as gently as possible. She was too light, frighteningly so.

Seeking warmth, she curled against him. WILL NOT REACT.

When her beautiful lips formed the name William, Puck went stiff. So. She thought the other male carried her. Didn't matter. The mistake worked in Puck's favor. He had no desire to terrify her.

"Gillian!" William's voice reverberated through the entire house. His tone was strained, as if he spoke while struggling against an opponent.

Had Torin, Keeley or Hades come to offer Puck more aid?

Puck expected Gillian to turn rigid when she realized her beloved wasn't the one absconding with her, but she softened further, relief seeming to overtake her. She'd wanted Puck to come for her?

Ask again. She's ready to Say Yes to the Dress.

Just in case he'd read her body language wrong, he rushed to reassure her of his good intentions. "I'm not going to let you die. The last time I was with you, I felt--I felt." True, in every way, and a reason to avoid her, but also the reason she believed he continued to seek her out. He couldn't forget he had a part to play. "I regretted leaving you--" regretted my tangle with Indifference "--and I'm not going to do it again."

Incoherent words spilled from her, and he tried to decipher them. Something about making him feel, after all?

Because he'd admitted to feeling regret, she thought her job was done?

Think again, lass.

Stride long and sure, he stalked to the balcony, climbed the railing, and leaped. When he landed, he managed to remain upright through sheer grit. Impact proved jarring, however, and Gillian moaned.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and wondered if he meant it, despite the ice. As he raced forward, twigs and rocks cutting his feet, he decided to return to Torin and Keeley's cave and use their doorway. Wherever it led, he would deal. "I want to bond with you, Gillian. Do not say no."

"Won't. Yes," she whispered. "Will...bond. What...need...do?"