Darkest Flame (22 page)

Was Rhi really there? Or was she hearing things as well?

“Look at Kellan. He tries not to watch you, but he is. He can’t let the Dark know how much he’s worried for your safety. They
will
use you against him, Denae. Prepare for that, because it won’t be pretty. It’ll be harsh and might seriously mess you up mentally, but Kellan won’t leave you.”

Denae looked at Kellan to find him watching her with a bland expression. Or at least it appeared bland, but she saw the way his eyes never left her face, how his gaze pierced her as if trying to tell her something without words.

How could he want her though? She was human. She meant nothing.

Denae shook her head to try and clear it, but the depression wouldn’t loosen its hold.

“You’re strong,” Kellan said. “You can push them out.”

Could she? Did she dare? Denae squeezed her eyes closed and thought of Kellan, but every time an image of them together tried to appear, it was pushed aside.

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

His insistence snapped her eyes open, and she saw his unchained hand by his side, one finger held out to her. He was stretched as far as his chain would allow, just ten feet separating them. But it felt like miles.

“You fought off Matt. Remember?”

Matt? Then she recalled her fight with Matt in Kellan’s cave. Denae no longer wanted to be alone. She wanted comforting arms around her, and she knew exactly whose arms she wanted—Kellan’s.

She tried to get to her feet, but it was like something was pushing down on her. It would be so easy to lay there and not fight, so easy to just … give up.

“Denae.”

Kellan wouldn’t stop saying her name until she moved again. She managed to get to her hands and knees and began to crawl toward him, but all too soon her hands felt as if they were caked in concrete. She collapsed.

It was just too much. She couldn’t be strong anymore. She was never the strong one. That was Renee. How many times had her mother said those exact words?

“Fight, damn it.”

The words were clipped, angry. Whispered. Denae lifted her head to see Kellan staring at her, as if willing her to move with his eyes.

A spark of something had her use her arms to pull herself to him, inch by agonizing inch. Until she could go no more. She collapsed, ready to do anything it took to make it all stop.

Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and tugged her over the floor until she was nestled against a warm chest with thick arms wrapped around her.

“Fight, Denae,” he whispered in her ear. “I can no’ do it for you. Only you can take control of your mind.”

Take control? Did he mean someone was in her mind? Surely not? This depression was something she’d battled when her sister died, and again when her mother faded away and then her father had a heart attack and left her. All within a four-year span.

“Who are you thinking about?”

“Renee,” she answered automatically. “She was so beautiful.”

Something caressed down her face. “The nightmares can no’ touch you here.”

The nightmares. Yes, she knew them all too well. “We were inseparable.”

His arms tightened around her. “You’re strong. Say it.”

“No.” She shook her head. She wasn’t going to say anything that wasn’t true.

“Say it,” Kellan insisted and flicked his tongue over her ear.

Heat instantly spread through her body. Images of their night flashed in her head, pushing past the fog that had seeped into every crevice of her mind.

“Say it, Denae. Tell me you’re strong.”

“I’m strong.” She had to force the words, they were so difficult to say, but once said, they pushed the last of the fog away.

And whatever had taken her mind was no longer there.

“Denae?”

“What just happened?” she asked as she began to shake from the coolness of the room and her wet clothes.

Kellan rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “They got into your mind. They’ll do it again too.”

“That was awful. Everything I felt was what I went through when Renee died.”

“Which is what makes it so real.”

Denae closed her eyes, thankful to be in his arms. If it hadn’t been for Kellan, the Fae would have taken her. That thought iced the blood in her veins.

“Can you fight it now?” he asked in a low voice.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I may no’ always be around. You need to keep them out at all times, but it willna be easy.”

“The one who came to me earlier, Emil. He said they feed off of hope and other such emotions.”

Kellan’s chin rested on her shoulder. “They do. So doona think of happy thoughts to pull you out of their grip. No’ only will they take full control of your mind, but they’ll suck your spirit right out of you.”

“If you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a bang-up job.”

His fingers lightly caressed her arm. “If you were no’ afraid, I’d be worried.”

She opened her eyes and blinked back tears as she comprehended what it meant that she was in his arms. “You’ve shown them they can use me against you.”

“They can try.”

His words were chilling.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Kellan let Denae drift off to sleep without moving her. All too soon hell would descend upon them.

The light that eased her fears and allowed her to see into the darkest corners would disappear.

The illusion of safety she felt while in his arms would be shattered.

The compassion, the gentleness he’d dared to show her now would cease.

The Dark Ones would torment her endlessly while he watched.

No matter what the Fae wanted, he wouldn’t give it to them, not as long as it involved information on Dreagan or anyone there.

Kellan woke from his thirteen hundred years of sleep with hatred for humans still churning within him. But one courageous, beautiful woman had beguiled him, captivated him.

Utterly charmed him.

While changing his mind about her, and perhaps about a few other mortals in the process.

He didn’t regret their night together. Quite the opposite. He wished he had more time with her, but even if both of them got out alive, she would be forever changed.

The purity she had somehow kept despite working as a spy would be gone, wiped away as if it had never existed.

The protection he’d promised her was worthless while they were in the hands of the Dark. Especially with him chained. He was powerful, immortal, and lethal, and yet he was helpless to do anything but hold the woman he couldn’t get enough of.

Kellan lifted a lock of her coppery hair in his hand and ran his fingers along the cool, silky strands. He let her believe the Dark Ones could be watching at all times, because he never wanted her to let her guard down.

Which is exactly what she was doing by sleeping in his arms. She expected him to watch over her. And she wasn’t wrong. She needed the rest, but it was the last time he would allow her to have it.

For both their sakes, he couldn’t be found holding her.

Kellan had no idea if—or when—his brethren would find him. He wasn’t counting on them. He would break free. Somehow. Doing it before they took Denae’s soul would be the tricky part.

Getting away before they could get to him as they had the two other Kings also weighed heavily on his mind. Kings by nature were the strongest of the strong, the deadliest of the deadly.

To know that two of his brethren had been broken was more than troubling. It was distressing. He looked down at Denae and knew that when the Dark came, they wouldn’t hold back any punches to either of them.

There was no way Kellan was going to be able to watch as the Dark touched her, and yet he would have to. It was the only chance she had—and it was a slim one at that.

He liked holding her, liked that she trusted him enough to sleep in such a place. Even if he hadn’t given her the promise to keep her alive, he wouldn’t leave her.

There was something altogether different about Denae that he’d never encountered in a mortal before. Kellan couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but it held him attuned to her in ways that kept him spinning, disoriented.

And reaching for her.

Already he’d held her too long. Thinking of pushing her away was becoming more and more difficult, until his body was demanding he claim her again—for all to see. To let the Dark know that they might try to take her, but she would be forever his, just as he would forever be imprinted upon her.

The impulse to brand her as his so no one would dare to touch her, much less look at her, was so strong that his hand was beneath her shirt before he realized it.

Kellan paused and clenched his teeth. If the Fae knew how much he wanted her, they would stop at nothing to destroy her.

And that could very well break him as nothing ever had.

Not seeing his Bronzes dead.

Not watching the dragons leave the realm.

Kellan closed his eyes and savored the feel of her in his arms. It was the last he would give himself and her, because he had to be cold and calculating to save her. He had to dredge up the loathing that had been his constant companion for centuries, even though he felt nothing close to hate for the beautiful, amazing woman beside him.

He pulled his hand away and allowed himself a quick brush of his lips over hers. Then he gave her a little shake. “Denae. Time to wake up.”

*   *   *

Denae was instantly awake, though she remained still, her gaze on Kellan as she swore he had just kissed her. But there was no passion shining in his celadon gaze. Only the same coldness she had seen when she first met him.

“Are they back?” she whispered.

“No’ yet. You need to get on the other side of the room. They doona have to be in front of you to get inside your head, so be ready.”

She sat up, grateful for the rest she had been given, but already missing his warmth and his arms. “Anything else I should be prepared for?”

“They can use illusions.”

“Great,” she mumbled as she climbed to her feet and walked to her side of the room. “Talk about an unfair advantage over someone who has no magic. Tell me again why everyone falls at their feet? They’re freaking monsters, is what they are.”

As she expected, there was no response from Kellan. Denae remained standing, stretching out her arms and back. She might not be in a physical fight with the Dark Fae, but it was going to take more than just her mind to keep her one step ahead of the assholes.

Plus she couldn’t sit still and not look at Kellan.

“Few call them monsters. Only the Kings dare that,” Kellan said. “And a few Light.”

Denae rolled her eyes. “Speaking of the Light, where are they? Shouldn’t they be here rescuing us?”

There was a loud snort from Kellan. “As if the Light would demean themselves to help a mortal.”

“Or a Dragon King,” she surmised. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Aye.”

“No one knows where we are.” The full comprehension of their predicament settled on her like a ton of bricks. The betrayal made her feel like she had been run over by a semi. This was a whole new level of hell she could do without. “It might have been better if MI5 had me instead of these brutes.”

“Brutes?” came a voice into the room as the sound of a latch being lifted shattered the quiet.

The door swung open and in walked two Dark Fae. Denae immediately recognized Emil. The bastard was once more eyeing her like a starving man being offered a four-course meal.

“I think brute is a bit harsh,” replied the other Dark One.

Denae shifted her gaze to the one speaking. His hair was more liberally streaked with silver so that barely any black could be seen, and it hung midway down his back. The strands were pulled away from his face to fall in a braid down his back, giving her an ample view of the vicious scar that ran vertically from his forehead over his left eyebrow to the top of his cheek.

Somehow, whatever had cut him had grazed his eyelid as well. But it was the scar itself, something none of the other Dark Fae sported, that held her attention.

“Ah,” the Dark One said with a small grin as he fingered the scar. “You’re wondering how I came to have this.”

“Not really. I’m just wondering why it’s visible. None of the others have such a scar.”

His smile tightened, his red eyes narrowing slightly. “True, but then I was fighting a Dragon King.”

“Tell her all of it, Taraeth,” Kellan demanded.

Taraeth cut a glance to Kellan. “You see none of the others with such a scar, little human, because the others who dared to take on the Kings were killed.”

“You ran,” Denae surmised easily enough.

He chuckled and walked around her. “I’m leader here. None of the others dare say that.”

Denae found it difficult to remain still. If she thought Emil was exasperating with his obvious seduction, he was no match for Taraeth.

Waves of lust rolled off him. She felt them, and yet, oddly enough, her body didn’t respond as she had been led to believe. She felt … nothing for either of the Dark.

The Dark leader halted when he faced her once more. “Tell me, little human. What are you doing with a Dragon King?”

“I trespassed on his property, and they took me prisoner.”

Taraeth barked in laughter. “Oh, how wonderful. Did you trade the use of your body with this one,” he pointed to Kellan, “in exchange for your freedom?”

“No. I was attracted to him.”

Taraeth’s red eyes raked her from head to foot and back again with blatant sexuality. “Wait until you have me between those long legs. You’ll forget all about your dragon.”

Denae couldn’t hold back her grin. “Does this normally work on us?”

Taraeth’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, his smile disappearing as anger took hold. He jerked his head to Emil who merely shrugged.

“I told you, sire.”

Taraeth turned back to her. He loomed over her, his body brushing hers. The way he stared at her seemed as if he were trying to push his will onto her.

More of the sexual waves—as she began to think of them—came at her. She felt them, knew what it was, but there wasn’t an ounce of stirring.