9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC (48 page)

No
signs of life marked his bride. No fluttering of eyelids, no movement of her
chest and no sound of a heartbeat. He slid his arms beneath her, lifting her
against his chest. “Don’t die,” he begged. “You can’t leave me. I’ll go insane
without you,” he cried. “I know you believe I’m already crazy, but baby, you
haven’t seen crazy if you don’t open your eyes and breathe.” He shook her.
“Breathe! Damn it, breathe!”

Her
head lolled lifelessly.

What
could he do?

He
didn’t know what it took to revive a witch who died like this. It wasn’t the
same as stealing a soul. “By the gods, help me!” He patted her icy hands,
kissed her cold face. “Please. Someone help me,” he whispered. “I don’t know
what to do.”

Talon?

Talon!

Talon
heard his name whispered–a familiar voice, a summoning he feared to face. He
raised his head, and searched the room.

Talon?

The ethereal voice rang stronger in his head. Terror
struck his heart. If the Prince of Death was here, then that meant—“No, Dym,”
he pleaded, terrified. “You can’t have her!” He whipped around, peering about
the empty room, but when Death was on a mission, no one saw him. “I love her.
I’ve never begged for anything, Dym, but please, don’t take her from me.”

Place
your mouth over hers and exhale.

“You
aren’t taking her from me?”

Not
tonight. Now do as I instructed.

Talon
placed his mouth over Saylym’s and deeply exhaled. Power surged from him into
her, so powerful, it nearly blinded him.

Again.

He clamped his eyes shut and breathed into her mouth. A
soft, mewling sound, a slight cough sounded, and her body bowed into an arch.
She gasped, sucking in the air he’d breathed inside her. More coughing. A
ragged breath. The sound of a deep sigh.

Talon
stared at her face. Color rushed to tint her cheeks. The blue faded from her
lips. Her eyelids fluttered and her chest rose in a natural state of breathing.
He held her close, pressing kisses against her throat, her face, laughing,
crying, all at the same time. Tenderly, he placed her head on the pillow and
for a long moment, watched her breathe.

“Thank
you,” he whispered.

I could do no less. Your witch has a
beautiful sister. I would not see her grieve because of this one’s death.

Talon
frowned. “I haven’t met her sister.”

I have seen her. I must go now. Duty calls.

Talon
felt a wisp of a touch on his shoulder, a slight squeeze, there and gone, and
he sighed with relief. Dym had returned to the Underworld—alone.

At
that moment, he knew Death had given back to him more than his mate. Saylym was
pregnant and she carried twins.

* * * *

Saylym
opened her eyes slowly to the sound of a male’s deep sobs. She’d always thought
the sound of a man crying stripped one’s soul bare. She frowned. Who was
crying?

Why?

She
couldn’t remember.

Then it all came crashing around her. The pain. The flames
holding them prisoner while Talon hammered into her body, the heat of his seed
pouring inside her womb.

Saylym
blinked. “Talon?”

He raised his head, tears streaking his face. He stared at
her. “Saylym? You’re awake.” He reached for her then stopped, his wild gaze
searching her face. “Your eyes,” he whispered. He sounded astonished.

“What?”
She really didn’t give a good damn about her eyes. He was always remarking on
her eyes, like he thought that was going to fix things between them now? She
snorted.

“They
aren’t purple anymore,” he said quietly. “They don’t have three colors. Somehow
the colors have bled together and created a whole new color.”

Had
he gone mad? “My eyes have never been three colors.”

“They
were, but now they’re pale green, with swirling, dark violet striations. Dual
colors, not three.”

He
searched her face, looking for what she had no clue. His haunted gaze settled
on her shoulder. He touched a band of stars across her shoulder. “I haven’t
noticed this before.”

“My
birthmark? It comes and goes. You probably haven’t seen it before now. It’s
been a long time since it last made an appearance.”

He wiped the stain of tears from his face and inhaled
deeply, then slowly exhaled. “The change in eye color will be permanent; purple
and green, a sign you are bonded to royalty. The two shades represent the
alliance of two powerful royal families.”

He
sounded amazed, as if he didn’t quite believe what he was saying. Heck, she
didn’t believe what he was saying and half of it she didn’t understand.

“Two
royal families?”

“Yes.
You’re royalty or you wouldn’t have that cluster of stars on your shoulders.
Only royal-blooded witches bear ‘witchmarks.’”

Saylym
snorted. “Right. Is this your way of making it right so your family will accept
an
Impure?
I won’t lie and say I’m royalty.”

“It
won’t be a lie. You have royal blood. You must have. It’s the only thing that
makes sense of everything that’s happened.” He caressed her belly, his hand
unsteady.

Saylym
shrank from his touch. “Don’t touch me,” she whispered.

He swallowed hard and looked away from the burning
accusation in her eyes. “I suppose I deserve that.”

He
said the words so quietly she had to strain to hear them.

“I’m
sorry,” he whispered, turning back to face her. “I never meant to hurt you, not
like that.” He ached to tell her they’d created sons together, but he didn’t
think she was ready to hear this from him. Not yet. She needed time. Hell, he
needed time himself to accept what had happened. And what they’d created
together.

“What have you done to me? I feel different. Powerful.”
She swallowed hard. “Did I die?” she asked faintly. “I stopped breathing. I
felt my heart shudder to a stop.” Her breath hitched in her chest. “I don’t
understand. I begged you to stop, but you wouldn’t.”

Talon’s
chest heaved with a ragged breath. “I couldn’t stop.
Sometimes the magic
is beyond even a
waken’s
control. I had no power over what took place.”

“I
died! Didn’t I?” Her voice wobbled, broke.
“Didn’t I?”

Damn it. He felt at a loss for words. How could he explain
the unexplainable? “I don’t know what happened. It’s more like you were
reborn.” His brow creased with concern. “How do you feel?”

“How
do I feel?” She glared at him. “At the moment, I feel like bashing you over the
head!”

“Saylym,”
he said softly. “You can’t hate me anymore than I hate myself. I would never
hurt you like that if I could have prevented it. You have to understand, I
wasn’t in control.”

She
sniffed. “All right. If you must know, I’m sore.”

For
a second he felt as blank as he knew he must look, until she blushed, then he
understood her meaning. “I see,” he replied. “I’m sure that’s to be expected.”

She
looked away from him. “I feel a little queasy.”

“That’s
probably to be expected as well.”

Saylym
flung back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed.

“Perhaps
it will pass if you eat something.”

She glared at him, shaking her head. “You lied to me. I
don’t know what you lied about, but I know you lied. Maybe you couldn’t stop
hurting me, but that doesn’t excuse your lies. A man doesn’t lie to the woman
he loves. You don’t love me, Talon, and that is one of your lies. You didn’t
have to tell me you loved me when you didn’t mean it. That’s something I can’t
forgive.” She choked back tears. “I’d like you to leave. Now.”

Talon
hesitated. “I’m your mate.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You’re the man who took…
took
my virginity. You’re the man who thought it was his right to use me…hurt me…and
I don’t mean just physically…but whatever it took to accomplish the goal you
set out to bind me to you, but you’re not my husband.”

She was right, of course. Husband wasn’t quite the right
word, but it was as near as she would understand as to what he was to her in
this realm.

“I am,
La-Scheme
. We are bonded. Handfasted.
Whatever name you’d like to give it. We are one. It is a permanent thing. Sex
is a part of our life. It’s the glue that will hold us together. The Flaymes
appear only during bonding. Beltane comes but once a year. That is the time for
conception, but there are all the months in between, and they can be rather
pleasurable, if you’ll let them. You’ll get used to it,” he finished with a
hint of princely arrogance. He knew as soon as he said it that he’d said the
wrong thing.

Her
eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “I will not get used to it, because it’ll
never happen again.”

“We’ll see,” he replied, fighting to keep his temper under
control. “You belong to me and there’s nothing,
nothing
that can change
that.” A chill swept down his spine as the words echoed in his mind, somehow
reminding him that the Fates sometimes had a way of making one eat his words.

Saylym balled a fist against her trembling lips. “I think
somewhere, you tricked me. And that is your shame and your loss. I gave you my
heart, Talon, but you refused to give me anything in return. You didn’t even
want to say the vows that you were willing to give me children, because deep in
your heart, you weren’t willing. I’m an
Impure
, not good enough to be
the mother of your children, not even good enough for you to fuck!”

“That’s not true. I love fooking you.”

“Shut up!” Why did his accent have to deepen whenever he
was emotionally distraught? And why did it have to sound so appealing?

“You’re the one who brought it up. In fact, you not only
brought ‘it’ up, but kept ‘it’ up.”

She snorted. “It’s just like you to have a one track
mind.”

“It’s
Beltane.” He shrugged as if that explained everything. “Saylym, I—”

“Please,”
she whispered. “I need time. Please…go.”

Talon gave a stiff bow. “Very well. Dawn’s near, but I’ll
return tonight. We’ll not spend our nights apart
, La-Scheme
. No matter
how angry we are with one another, our nights will be spent together.
Understand, I would do anything within my power for you, but we are mated. The
one thing I won’t do is let you go. We need to talk this out.” He leaned
forward to brush a kiss against her mouth.

She jerked back. “We should have discussed
these issues
before the bonding
ceremony, Talon. You knew what was going to happen. I didn’t.”

He nodded. He refused to lie to her again by not answering
truthfully. “Yes. I knew.”

But not everything.
Not everything
.

Though
she stiffened and tried to side-step him, he jerked her close and kissed her.
His mouth covered hers, hard and demanding. “Mine,” he whispered, setting her
free. “And you’re wrong,
La-Scheme.
You own my heart. You’ve owned it
from the first moment I saw you. And I won’t accept it back. It’s yours for all
the centuries we spend together.”

“You
don’t love me.”

“I’m
not sure I know what love is, not the kind you mean. I don’t know what the depths
of my feelings are for you. This is all just as new to me as it is to you. Like
you, I need time.”

She
stared at him, her gaze narrowed and angry.

With
a brief flick of his wrist, he vanished into a cloud of white smoke.

Saylym
promptly burst into tears.

* * * *

Talon
hated it, but Saylym gave him little choice but to leave her for a time. Alone
now in the flat above her shop, he paced, mulling over everything that had
happened the night before.

If
he lived to be a hundred thousand, he would never forget the chilling
experience of mating with his bride for the first time. It still felt as if a
knife had been driven deep into his heart and the blade twisted off and left
behind, a cruel reminder of what he’d done to the woman for whom he proclaimed
his love.

Damn,
but there had been unforeseen complications with their coupling. By the time he
realized something was terribly wrong, it had nearly been too late. He couldn’t
tell her how devastated he’d felt. There were no words to describe his grief.

Maybe
one day he’d tell her how he’d breathed life back into her lungs. If Dym had
claimed her, he would have gone berserk.

But
how does one fight Death?

He’d breathed his own life-force into her lungs, started
her heart beating, her blood pumping. The moment life returned to her, he knew
she was pregnant.

What
was shocking was the fact she’d conceived twins. In all their history, there
had never been a dual birth recorded. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from
cupping the slight mound of her belly. Placing his hands on her stomach, he’d
been thankful for Dym’s generosity. He spread his fingers and massaged gently.
Two heartbeats. Both strong and steady drummed against his hands.

Twins.
How was it possible?

It
wasn’t possible.

This
never happened in his race.

But
there was no doubt those two boys lay curled against each other, sleeping in
her womb. His sons. His hands had trembled against her belly. The wonder of it
was more magical than anything in their world and it was a humbling experience
to magically feel his sons inside their mother’s womb, to communicate with them
through magic. Sons he’d nearly lost along with his mate. He’d known instantly
what they looked like and he’d realized they’d sent him the mental image. That
meant their magic was so powerful they could reach out to him, control at their
fingertips and send images to his mind.

He’d
been in awe that their features were identical. They’d inherited his dark
coloring. They had his dark hair, and his features. A
waken’s
features.