Embrace Me At Dawn (12 page)

The priestess sent him a soft expression of sympathy as she handed him the urn with Tynan’s ashes. “With this wizard, we free him to the blessed element of air.”

“
Go well, my brother,” Asher whispered as he waved his hand and released the ashes to the wind whistling across the dusky sky.

Moments later, the sun set. Tynan’s ashes scattered, and a peaceful hush settled over the crowd. He was carried away—his troubles, his grief, his impotent rage, his terrible loss. Gone.

Lucan closed his eyes and envied the fallen warrior.

“
This is why Bram hasn’t let you back into battle,” Caden murmured in his ear.

Because Lucan had contemplated suicide by Anarki? “I know.”

There were painful days and nights he’d considered begging Bram to let him fight. Or going in search of Mathias all alone in his lair and throwing caution to the devil. But in his heart, Anka was still his responsibility, despite their broken bond. She might need him to protect her someday. He’d failed her miserably once. He would not falter again.

“
I wouldn’t let him,” Caden admitted.

Lucan smiled wryly. “I know.”

His brother’s love and support had been one of the few joys that had kept Lucan putting one foot in front of the other so that he could continue to exist each day.

Shortly thereafter, the crowd began to break up. Everyone lined up to pay their respects to Asher, offer their help and condolences. They did, one by one, then teleported away. Lucan stepped forward and looked Asher O’Shea in the eye. The poor bastard looked like he’d been gutted. It wasn’t only Tynan who’d suffered. The living left behind to cope and grapple and try to move forward perhaps suffered more, with no end in sight. He cursed the Anarki and Mathias. He cursed Shock’s younger brother, Zain, for bringing the terrible wizard back so he could be evil’s right hand or whatever creepy aspiration he had. And as long as he was cursing one Denzell brother, he might as well curse both. Shock certainly deserved every bit of his rage and contempt.

“
I’m beyond sorry, O’Shea.”

Asher’s face closed up even tighter. “Thank you. Besides Bram, you two are the last of the Doomsday Brethren here. I want you all off my property. Don’t ever come back.”

Lucan wasn’t offended by Asher’s anger. Fury had become his old friend since losing Anka, so he well understood how the grieving man felt. He debated the wisdom of his next words, but figured that he and his fellow warriors had already been dismissed. He couldn’t do more damage.

“
In your shoes, I’d hate us, too. We allowed a grieving wizard to fight. He was reckless and let himself be taken in the hopes of killing Mathias. You have every reason to despise us. I can only tell you that I lost my mate in this war. I understand bitterness and grief. Your brother was a good warrior. A good man. He will be avenged. The Doomsday Brethren will make certain of it.”

Asher stared, his face stony, looking as if he held in a string of heated curses for the sake of decorum, but his hold was wearing thin.

“
Ultimately,” Lucan continued, “Mathias killed your brother to have one less wizard to oppose him and upset the balance of the Council. Keep that in mind when you weigh your Council decisions.”

“
As much as I hate all of you, I hate Mathias more. Now get the hell out of here.” Asher sent Lucan a sharp nod of dismissal.

Caden only patted Asher on the shoulder. “I’m very sorry.”

Then he grabbed Sydney’s hand and teleported out. Lucan followed suit, watching Bram and Sebastian Blackbourne hover around Asher as he said the last of his good-byes. With a shake of his head, Lucan popped home, not envying either of the wizards left behind. The responsibility of steering magickind in times of civil war was an awesome one.

Back at his house, Sydney kissed his cheek, followed by a soft peck on Caden’s lips, then excused herself upstairs. His brother watched her sassy sway all the way up the stairs, and Lucan envied him the happiness and solace Caden could take from Sydney in good times and bad. Fuck, he sounded like a morose wanker, crying in his whiskey or whatever. Right now, he’d love a drink. But Caden would disapprove, and he refused to stoop to Shock’s level by being a full-time drunk.

Speaking of stooping to the arsehole’s level… “What do you mean by Anka being sexually submissive to Shock?”

Caden slanted him an impatient glance. “C’mon. You’ve been around a lot longer than I have. Certainly you’ve heard of these things.”

“
Of course. But I can’t picture it. I know almost nothing about it. I…I’d hoped that you meant something else.” God, he could use that drink now. “For fuck’s sake, I don’t understand why she would want that prick to give her pain. And how would you know about this?”

His brother had the good grace to flush and pretend interest in the wall. “When I lived in Dallas and worked for the paper, I was called out to photograph a murder near a kink club. The guy who owned it was a witness, and we started talking about the crime. Then eventually about other things. I went a time or two until Sabelle brought me here to help you. I was…interested.” He grinned. “There’s something really nice about seeing your red handprint on your mate’s pristine white bum.”

Having never tried such a thing, Lucan had no idea. Sex had been for fun and energy before he met Anka. After her, every other female on the planet had ceased to exist. Lately, it had been a chore necessary to stay alive. Surrogates helped, being either as professional or as romantic as the client wished. He’d tried both approaches. They both made him feel like a sorry shitbag afterward. Like a wizard in his prime whose mate was fucking someone else.

He was ready to do whatever it took to change that.

“
I think I need to hear more.”

Caden’s eyes nearly popped with surprise. “You’re sure?”

Lucan sighed. “I can either lose Anka forever to the prick able to give her what she says she needs or I can try to be that man. I love her still. I want to love her always. I may not understand this, but I’d rather be the bastard leaving a handprint on her bum.”

His brother nodded as if impressed. “That’s how I’d look at it, too. I wasn’t sure if you were ready to be that logical.”

“
I don’t think I have a choice. Being near her today…” He sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself. Even thoughts of being close to Anka made him hard, almost rabid to have her under him, his cock buried deep inside her, making her his again. “I haven’t felt that alive in three months. I’m not letting her slip away again. How do I learn what I need to know?”

Caden retrieved his mobile phone from his pocket, punched a few buttons, then tucked it away again. A second later, Lucan’s beeped with a text. He fished out the device and stared at the phone number, the country code for America first.

“
His name is Mitchell Thorpe. He runs a club named Dominion in Dallas. The smartest, most patient bastard in the world when it comes to BDSM education. When you talk to him, tell him I’m interested in resuming when I can.” He grinned.

Lucan saved the number with a grim expression. Everything was happening so fast, and today had been a complete clusterfuck from start to finish. This morning, he’d all but dry-humped Anka like a dog in heat until he’d smelled Shock all over her and seen the marks he’d left behind. Then Lucan had just been an angry bastard. Tynan’s funeral had completed the buzzkill. And now he needed to talk to this kink master. He shook his head tiredly.

“
What time is it there?”

“
Dallas is six hours behind us.” Caden glanced at his watch. “So…it’s about noon. Thorpe should be in.”

Indeed
. “Thank you. Now go spend time with your mate. I’ve got a phone call to make.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Anka watched Sabelle pace the floor of Bram’s office, staring at the witch she’d once considered her closest friend. They’d barely spoken in three months. She’d missed her friend’s mating to Isdernus Rykard. Sabelle choosing Ice certainly would have been a surprise to all of magickind, who regarded Sabelle somewhat like their princess because of the prominence of her bloodline. Those same people would have considered her mate far beneath her, somewhere between a madman and a punch line. But the more Anka watched her friend with Ice, the more she knew Sabelle had made the right choice for her.

“
Your brother will be fine,” Anka said quietly to the other witch.

Ice pressed a cup of tea into Sabelle’s hands. “She’s right, love. It’s a meeting, not a battle.”

Sabelle toyed with one of her long, blond curls and frowned. “I get the feeling it’s both. But I’m glad you didn’t go.”

Sabelle smiled at Ice, and his answering look of devotion stabbed Anka like a knife to the heart. Lucan had once looked at her like that. Now that she’d told him about the way she begged Shock to take control of their sex and give her pain, he’d never look at her that way again. That was why she’d confessed. He couldn’t go on pining for what would never be. But it hurt so badly to know he would feel something between contempt and loathing for her for the rest of their centuries.

“
I was better off not going,” Ice said. “Apparently, my underdeveloped ability to keep my mouth shut when my overdeveloped bullshit meter goes off is a liability in politics.”

Sabelle grinned absently while staring at Anka. Bloody hell, she’d forgotten to mask her thoughts.

“
Exactly,” Sabelle seemed to say to both of them. “Can you excuse us, Ice?”

Ice glanced between the two of them, green eyes narrowed. “Girl talk, is it? I’m definitely not staying for that, especially if you’re going to talk about Lucan MacTavish. Wanker.”

Anka blinked, stunned, as Ice turned away and left the office, shoulders barely squeezing through the doorway. Despite his huge boots and his even larger frame, he barely made a sound as he trekked across the tile and disappeared up the stairs.

“
Why does Ice dislike Lucan?” Anka asked.

“
What do you mean you told Lucan that you beg Shock to take control and give you pain?”

Damn Sabelle for reading her thoughts. Anka wanted to tell the other witch that she didn’t have the energy to explain twice in one day, and that it was deeply personal. Would magickind’s sweet princess even understand? Under all that, the truth embarrassed her. Not that Sabelle hadn’t just read every one of her thoughts. “I asked you first.”

Anka sighed. Yes, that sounded very mature.

Sabelle smiled, but the happiness in her expression abruptly died. “Lucan almost died after Mathias broke your mate bond. His mate mourning was like nothing I’ve ever seen. Even Aunt Millie said it was more severe than she’d ever encountered. If you hadn’t healed him when you did, I don’t think he could have lived much longer. He’d nearly gone feral.”

Her heart caught. Anka wanted to believe Lucan grieved her loss that much because he’d genuinely loved her. But he hadn’t known her, not really. He’d missed the façade, the comfort object. The abrupt nature of their torn bond would have added to his distress.

“
No,” Sabelle insisted. “He loved
you
. He still does.”

Not anymore
. Anka folded her hands in her lap. “Go on.”

The witch paused, gathering her thoughts, then shook her head. “You must understand… Mourning to that extent depleted his energy very rapidly. All of the Brethren had trained hard the day you were taken. Their tanks were empty, Lucan’s included. After your disappearance, we tried surrogates, but he was so violent that he scared them all away.”

Her breath hitched, and Anka feared where this was going next. She forced herself to ask, “And?”

Sabelle pressed her lips together. “And…I finally stepped in. Of course, this was before I became mated to Ice. We had no idea where you’d gone or even if you were alive. He was slipping away from us. He’d been reduced to something near an animal, with no rational thought left. Only his sense of smell and taste remained. I washed with your soap and shampoo. I wore your clothes. I did everything I could to make him believe that I was you. Eventually, he accepted me.”