Read Darkest Flame Online

Authors: Donna Grant

Darkest Flame (26 page)

“You willna leave her a mind to have,” Kellan said succinctly.

Taraeth turned back to Denae and began to play with her hair. “I think I might. She’s exceptional, rare. She will please me greatly.” His red eyes shifted to Kellan. “I’ll wipe every memory of you from her until she believes she is a Dark Fae.”

Apprehension settled in Kellan’s gut. Once, so long ago it was just a distant memory, Kellan recalled the mention of a Fae wanting to turn a human. Kellan didn’t know if it was successful or not, but the mere fact Taraeth brought it up didn’t bode well for Denae.

“She would make an excellent queen,” Taraeth said. “But that is on your shoulders, Dragon.”

“How so?”

“You give me the answers I want, and I won’t have to hurt her. The more I hurt her, the less likely she’ll survive. I can’t make her my queen if her mind is gone.”

Denae was again looking at Taraeth as if he hung the moon just for her. Kellan knew Denae was strong, both mentally and physically, but under the onslaught of Dark magic? In the end, she was still mortal and weaker than a Fae. Could she stand against him?

“I willna tell you anything,” Kellan stated.

No matter how much he wanted to protect her, he wouldn’t betray his brethren. There was too much at stake. The very idea of the Dark Ones aligning with humans to capture him told Kellan something big was about to happen, and it hinged on knowledge that was hidden.

“Oh, but you will. One more chance. Tell me where it’s hidden.”

Kellan knew exactly what Taraeth was asking about. The very first King of Kings had found it and hidden it away. Not long after he was killed, so were the next three in quick succession until Constantine took over.

There were only two Dragon Kings who knew what the Dark searched for—he and Con. But Kellan had a suspicion the Dark—or whoever it was who aligned with them—wanted the Silvers who were caged and remained sleeping. The havoc those dragons could wreak upon the world would be catastrophic.

Keeping the Silvers sleeping was one of many reasons none of the Dragon Kings ever ventured far from Dreagan for any length of time.

“Nay,” Kellan answered.

Taraeth put his hand on Denae’s head, and she immediately went white, her body shaking as she began to scream and jerk weakly against the magic holding her in place.

“I can hurt her. Painfully,” Taraeth said. Then he yawned and dusted off his boots.

Kellan ground his teeth together while he somehow remained where he was. Everything inside him bellowed to go to Denae and save her from the suffering he could only imagine she was enduring.

At that moment Kellan couldn’t grasp how he had ever thought he could hate Denae. It seemed like centuries had passed since she had come into his life. He had changed so much, and yet the change had been so slow he hadn’t recognized it until now.

To see her in such pain was worse than finding his Bronzes dead. It was unfathomable, immeasurable.

Kellan tried to swallow as he kept his gaze on her, hoping to give her strength any way he could. She had to endure it, because if she didn’t, Kellan wasn’t sure what he might do.

After another few seconds Taraeth lifted his hand and her screams stopped. “Or I can do this.”

Kellan barely had time to register that Denae was no longer in pain before Taraeth slowly ran his hand across Denae’s breasts, down her stomach to her sex. His hand stopped at the black curls, and a low moan fell from Denae’s lips.

Her head fell back against the wall and her chest heaved. With her hips rocking forward slightly, her moans grew louder and louder until she screamed as a climax rocked through her.

Cold, deadly fury filled Kellan. Denae was his. And the Dark had dared to not just torture her, but to give her pleasure against her will.

Kellan was going to kill him. He would enjoy watching Taraeth die. Perhaps he would let Denae help and let her get revenge on the Dark who’d invaded her mind and body. It might help her heal.

He wouldn’t even allow himself to think what might happen if she didn’t come out of everything herself. She was strong, a survivor. He kept repeating that silently to himself. It gave him hope—hope he hadn’t known he even needed.

“That was beautiful,” Taraeth told her as he nuzzled her ear. “That’s the first of many, little human.”

Kellan didn’t know which was harder to watch—the torture or the pleasure. Both affected him in ways he wished he could ignore, but he couldn’t. Both would haunt him long after he escaped the confines of the room.

“Are all the dragons gone from this realm?” Taraeth asked.

Kellan smiled coldly. “Of course no’, you imbecile. You’re looking at one.”

“Not a King,” Taraeth said harshly. “Your dragons. Are they gone?”

“Aye.”

“All of them?” Taraeth pressed.

Kellan gave a single nod.

“How many Dragon Kings remain?”

“As if I would tell you.”

“You told me of the dragons.”

Kellan began to laugh. “Because that, you sodding fool, is common knowledge. There was no secret about that. We sent our dragons away to protect them.”

“And what would you do if your dragons were no longer protected?”

Kellan tried to keep his smile in place, but he knew it fell. There was no anger, just a coldness that settled around him as it always did right before a battle. He was focused, intent.

And ready to kill.

“You’ll never find them. However, if so much as one dragon is harmed, you’ll know what it feels like to have every Dragon King hunting you and your Dark Ones, Taraeth.”

His words didn’t seem to faze Taraeth who used his magic to make Denae moan again. “The first time I made her peak with just magic. This time I’ll make you watch as I put my mark on her and claim her body as mine, Dragon. Tell me where the object is being hidden.”


Keep him talking,” a voice whispered in his ear, a voice he recognized.

Rhi.

“Help is coming, but you need to get him out so I can help free you and Denae,” she continued.

Kellan glanced around him. He could feel Rhi’s presence now that she had made herself known, but he wasn’t sure how she was able to keep herself veiled for such a long time.

Denae moaned again, her eyes focused away from him. She was embarrassed, and trying to fight something she couldn’t. Kellan had just thought he hated humans. Now he realized true revulsion—and it was focused solely on the Dark.

“You know the location,” Taraeth said as he let his fingers slide into Denae’s black curls. “You can stop this if you’ll just tell me.”

Kellan wasn’t that stupid. Taraeth was going to take Denae no matter what he said. A glance at Emil showed the Dark’s growing rage as he watched Taraeth taking the human he wanted.

“I’m no’ so sure taking Denae in front of Emil is a good idea.” Kellan didn’t hide his smugness when Taraeth’s gaze landed on him. Anyone looking at Emil could see his fury and the death he wished upon Taraeth.

Taraeth turned from Kellan to Emil. All thoughts of Denae were severed as Emil let out a low rumble and attacked. Taraeth blocked the first assault, but in a matter of seconds, magic was flying everywhere.

Kellan saw Denae make herself as small as she could while Taraeth quickly gained the upper hand and had his fingers around Emil’s throat.

Taraeth was breathing heavily, his lips peeled back in a dangerous scowl. “I’ll return after I deal with this,” he promised and quickly disappeared.

For a beat of four seconds Kellan didn’t move. Then Rhi materialized. “About damn time,” he ground out.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

 

Denae wanted to stay inside the small room in her mind she had created, to forget she was in a place no human should ever be, being touched by a Dark Fae with evil intent.

Taraeth had barely touched her, but he had invaded her body, made her orgasm by his magic alone. She had been assaulted in a way that should never have happened. She knew how to defend herself, how to pick out predators. But no one had told her about the Fae or how they could gain control of her body and mind no matter how she fought it.

She felt minuscule, insignificant. Used. It was the most horrendous thing she had ever endured. It didn’t help that her skin still sizzled from the ferocious orgasm Taraeth had forced on her. She wanted to scrub her skin raw to get his touch, his scent off her.

The thought that it might never happen made her retreat deeper into that little room in her mind.

“Denae,” Rhi’s voice said near her ear. “Taraeth is gone. You’re free. Focus on Kellan and remember the special night you had in his arms.”

She turned her head away. She didn’t want to listen to Rhi, or face Kellan. A cry rose up within her as she realized he had witnessed her attack. She would really become the weak human now.

“Look at Kellan,” Rhi whispered urgently. “Look at the anger in his eyes for what was done to you. Both of you are at the mercy of the Dark. Stay united.”

Denae wasn’t sure she could do as Rhi asked. It was too much. All of it was just too much.

Rhi let out a sigh. “Damn it. I need to go to Kellan. Please, Denae. This is killing him. He might never show it or say it, but you could see it in his eyes if you but looked.”

Denae wanted to ignore the Light Fae, but she couldn’t disregard her need for Kellan. Being in his arms had been the best thing of her life. Feeling his touch, tasting his kisses. It had been heaven on earth—something she hadn’t thought existed.

She opened her eyes to find Rhi standing beside Kellan. He was speaking in low tones with Rhi, and she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Denae focused on Kellan’s lips. He had full lips, lips a man like him could use as a weapon. She thought of his kisses and how she’d felt them all the way through her body into her essence and her soul.

The same couldn’t be said for Taraeth. He was average, at best.

Denae inwardly snorted. So much for the seduction of the Fae. But the Dark still managed to win in the end.

Denae turned her head, the last vestiges of her control slipping away when she found herself still held by Fae magic. She couldn’t cover herself, couldn’t claw her way through the stones, or even cover her eyes in an attempt to hide the tears that threatened.

“You did well,” Rhi said, beside her once again. “Concentrate on that. Not many could infuriate Taraeth the way you do. Bravo!”

Denae was thankful the Fae didn’t try to get in her face. Instead, Rhi stood on her other side and draped something over her as she talked nonstop and smiled often.

That kind gesture was too much for Denae. She closed her eyes and fought against the moisture that gathered in her eyes. The last time she cried was when she buried her father. Her heart had been ripped from her chest as she watched the third member of her family lowered into the ground in a four-year span. She’d sworn to never shed another tear again.

“Are you hurt?” Rhi asked gently.

Denae swallowed twice before she could find her voice. “No.”

“I don’t know how long we have,” Rhi said. “Tristan and Phelan are coming, but I have to get both of you out of here.”

“Denae.”

She pressed her cheek farther into the cold stones when Kellan said her name in a soft voice too kind to come from someone like him. Was she that much of a mess? Did he know she was on the jagged edge and about to fall off?

“Look at me,” he urged.

She wasn’t sure if she could. Not after what Taraeth had done. It was worse than the moment of pain Taraeth had put her through.

Pain she could handle. And though she wasn’t mindless with need for any of the Fae, Taraeth had still been able to manipulate her body into pleasure.

It was sick and dirty, and … wrong.

How many more times would Taraeth do that to her? Worse, when would he take her as he’d promised to do?

“Denae.”

This time Kellan’s voice was hard and demanding, almost daring her to face him.

Now that was the man she knew. Cold, shrewd, and cunning. This man she could understand. He was dedicated to the Kings, devoted to Dreagan, and single-minded with purpose for both.

She opened her eyes and slowly turned her head until she was looking at him. His celadon eyes were penetrating, pointed. He asked no questions, just stared. Then his head lowered slightly as if asking her without words if she was all right.

Denae took a deep breath and nodded. If she thought Kellan would pity her or show a hint of compassion, she was dead wrong. It was a good thing too, because she would have fallen apart if he had.

“Rhi, get this damn chain off me,” he said through clenched teeth.

The petite Fae ran to him and wrapped both of her hands around the manacle surrounding his wrist. Beneath her hands, coming from around the iron, Denae could have sworn she saw a bright light. Yet, not even that could release the chain.

Instead of getting angry, Kellan merely gave Rhi a gentle shove aside. The next thing Denae knew, Kellan had raised his hand, palm forward, right at her.

She winced as if expecting a blow. Instead, her arms dropped to her sides and she was able to move away from the wall. Her gaze jerked to Kellan.

Rhi’s silver eyes were large as she stared at him. “You can do magic while still being in their chains?”

“Aye,” he said angrily. “I just can no’ shift.”

Denae took the man’s button-down shirt Rhi had draped over her and put it on. It came to the top of her thighs, but at least she was covered.

She was in the process of buttoning it when she caught Kellan’s scent. This was his shirt. Rhi had given her his shirt. Her eyes lifted to his to find him staring at her.

The shirt reminded her of tangled limbs, long kisses, cries of pleasure, and desire unlike she had ever known. She inhaled his scent again and burrowed deeper into the shirt. It was her armor now.

Without words, without a touch, Kellan had given her the courage to stand tall once more. Denae took a step toward him. His gaze didn’t leave hers, and it gave her the daring to walk to him.

He met her as far as his chain would allow. She was promptly dragged against his chest and his arms tightened around her. Denae closed her eyes and buried her head in his neck as she held onto him tightly.

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