The Morrigan: Damaged Deities (8 page)

The moon had hidden behind the clouds, casting darker shadows around and it wasn’t until it peaked its pale face out again that she saw it, saw him.

His dark coat gleamed wet in the moonlight, water dripping as though he had just emerged from the lake itself.  Steam rose from his hide and came out his nostrils in angry snorts. 

You
are
a kelpie
, Morrie thought.  And she was certain of it. 

She knew the man inside, whoever he may be, was not conscious to the beast.  She knew there’d be no reasoning with him.

The horse was mammoth, bigger than anything she’d seen before, dwarfing even the Clydesdales in the stables. 

What a sight he must have been to his victims.  How they must have froze with disbelief—suspicious of their own eyes. 

Morrie watched as his heavy hooves punched the bank of the lake, his ears twitching, alert.

In the fog and shadows, he looked like a killer; he looked like a monster. 

She vibrated like a livewire with excitement, barely able to hold back from running headlong towards him as she stepped out of the dark and into the moonlight.

The horse turned his head to her right away, his black eyes boring into her. 

For a long moment he only stood staring, like maybe she wasn’t worth the effort or he hadn’t seen her, but then a shudder traveled down his body and he whinnied like a scream, rearing up and lunging in her direction.

Morrie didn’t flinch. 

She didn’t move away while the horse’s heavy hooves pounded against the lake’s shore as he rounded it, mud and rocks kicking up under each step.  She never took her eyes off him and he reached her in a few short breaths and reared again, kicking out against the night.

“Stop!” she commanded, putting her hand out. 

The horse dropped back, stamping and skittering—surprised? 

She turned her hand over, offering him her open palm. 

Feeling his hot breath on her skin, Morrie watched the horse sniff her, shudder again, and pause…before he butted his head into her chest. 

With a yelp, Morrie fell back, head hitting the ground in a stab of pain as the horse reared again and came after her.

Flipping over on all fours, she scurried to get away, clawing at the mud and slipping even as it dug up under her nails and squeezed between her fingers. 

The horse bit down on the back of her coat, holding her back.  The material ripped as he yanked his head back. 

With frantic, muddy fingers, she unbuttoned the coat and slipped out.  The horse ripped at it and stomped it to shreds as Morrie scrambled up the incline towards the trees.

The horse was behind her again, his hot breath steaming her back, nipping at her shirt.  Just as he lunged to bite at her, she curled up in a ball, rolling beneath his great body. 

She had surprised him. 

The horse dipped just low enough for Morrie to crawl out and climb on his back. 

With a scream of surprise and terror, the horse reared up again, but Morrie clung tight to his mane and with her thighs to his back.  He bucked, trying to rid himself of his new rider, but she dug her heels in more and yanked hard on his mane. 

The horse leapt forward and began to run, but Morrie knew she had control of him. 

Hands fisted around the course mane, Morrie guided him back with quick jerks of her right hand, then her left.  The moisture in the air soaked her hair and it whipped against her face as they pounded across the estate, back to the manor. 

Pummeling the lawn as they crossed, Morrie rode the horse right through the open stable door, yanking back hard to slow him and direct him into a stall. 

Without pause, she jumped off once the horse was inside the stall, spinning to shut the gate and lock him inside.

The other horses whinnied and kicked at their walls, disturbed by the presence of their new guest.  Morrie comforted them with quiet shushes and tossed more hay in their stalls.

In the dark, she could barely see the beast, but for the gleam on his coat.  He moved within the stall with agitation, kicking at his boarded confines.  She felt certain he could burst through if he wanted, but it seemed the walls managed to keep him contained.

Inhaling deeply to calm her erratic heart, Morrie rested her arms against the gate, waiting until the horse quieted down as well. 

Moments later she doubted if she was correct in thinking him a kelpie.  By now he should have shifted back to human form.  He’d been out of the water long enough. 

It had been so long since Morrie had encountered another legend, she could have been wrong in her initial assessment. 

Lore or not, he was a special horse.  His size and power proved that.

After awhile he did calm down a little, as did the other two, but she could sense his anger and annoyance.  Pushing away from the stall, Morrie tucked her hair behind her ears, rested her hands on her hips and gave the great beast one last look.

“I had hoped you’d be more of a challenge,” she said to him before turning away and shutting the stable doors behind her.

 The fire had died to a dark void by the time Morrie returned to the cold room, as if it had never been lit.  Body aching and cold, she stripped off her muddy jeans and wet flannel shirt, pulling back the covers to crawl into bed. 

It felt more comfortable than when she’d first lay down, the sheets soft with a pleasant, woody scent.  Anytime Morrie got excited it left her with heightened senses, everything feeling and smelling better.

Still able to hear the horse romping around in the stall outside, Morrie allowed herself a satisfied smile before slipping into a deep and undisturbed sleep.             

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

“…Came the Morrigan, daughter of Ernmas, from the side in the guise of an old woman and in Cú Chulainn’s presence she milked a cow with three teats.”

Táin Bó Cúailnge

Though it was hard to tell the time in the Highlands by the storms and lack of sun, it wasn’t morning that brought Morrie awake with a jolt.  She’d only been asleep maybe an hour or so. 

It was rather the soft rustle of the blankets and the feel of someone sliding onto the bed behind her that roused her from slumber. 

The mattress dipped from the weight. 

Heat greeted her as a body met her own and the last bits of her drowsiness went up in smoke. 

Morrie’s eyes flew open, but she hadn’t moved.  Instead she frowned with thought at the heavy form of a man, his bare flesh slipping against the back of her thighs, because she hadn’t sensed this intention from Kamden MacLeod at dinner or any other time she’d been around him.

One of her many powers was the ability to sense want and desire, especially when it was directed towards her.  Kamden had been as cold as his expression. 

In glaring contrast, lust seemed to roll off this man in heavy, heady waves, enough to affect her deep inside, stirring reciprocating feelings. 

His erection pressed itself against the center of her buttocks, rousing her body to life with a long-dormant desire, like a cold volcano blowing off the top of an ancient mountain. 

This was certainly not the Kamden MacLeod she’d met.

No matter.  It was unacceptable despite how her body reacted.

With a whip of her wrist, she latched onto the bulk of flesh between his legs, flinching with surprise at its size.  Her hand could barely hold the hardness. 

Though tall, she also didn’t expect Kamden to be this big…

“This was not our arrangement, MacLeod,” she grated out to the dark, tightening her hold for emphasis.

“Aye, lass,” a deep, unfamiliar voice answered in a raspy brogue, breathy and affected. “But if ye le’ go of my bollocks, I can convince ye otherwise.”

With no intention of letting go and instead getting better purchase of his cock, Morrie twisted on her hip, looking back at the stranger. 

His hulking body ran the length of the bed, most of its naked expanse shadowed, but the moonlight lit his face clearly, the perfect lines defined. 

In its soft glow, she saw the highlights of high cheekbones and a strong jaw shadowed with light stubble.  His thick hair appeared dark in the moonlight, its messy tresses sticking up every which way.  Sultry, full lips grinned and heavy lids hooded dark eyes that glinted like stars. 

Certainly
not
Kamden MacLeod. 

Heat and power radiated off him with an aura that seemed to seep into Morrie’s flesh, touching bone and beyond, making her inhale deeply. 

A once buried, long forgotten rush of lust ignited within her, filling her with fire.  Every inch of nerve alerted her to this stranger’s presence, expectant…needing.

What the fuck?

“You’re not Kamden,” she accused, breathless and aware of the way her body had responded to him from the hardening of her nipples, prominent through the thin cotton material of her top and the position in which she lay, to the gathering of heat between her legs. 

The surprise of it shocked her as much as the reaction itself and she struggled to keep from shaking. 

She inhaled a jagged breath. “Who are you?  What are you doing here?”

“I’m a man who’s suddenly very jealous of his younger brother.”  He kept his deep rumble of a voice controlled, despite her hand still clenching his erection that seemed to be growing even bigger. “Kade MacLeod, and this is my room.”

“
Your
room?” she rasped with mild surprise, entranced by his midnight eyes and unaware that her thumb had begun stroking the silky flesh of his shaft, the feel alone enough to almost hypnotize her. 

It seemed to do the same to Kade, as his eyes rolled up behind his lids for a moment before he licked his bottom lip.

“Aye,” he answered as though it pained him and swallowed, the column of his throat moving within a strong neck, “and ye are?”  His breathing had grown shallow.

“My name’s Morrie,” she answered him absently, more focused on how big he was, the way his body seemed to overwhelm hers, and how much she wanted to straddle him as her thumb slid down to the head of his cock, lightly grazing her nail along its ridge. 

“Morrie,” he repeated, rolling the R’s and making her want him to roll his tongue on her.  She slid her hand back down his shaft, letting it trail along the inside of her forearm. “
Christ
,” he hissed.

Enjoying how good his cock felt in her hand, she focused on his lips, glistening and parted.  Yearning to have them on her and to put hers on him, she licked her lips.

Under heavy hooded eyes, he rasped, “Ye’re killin’ me, lass.  Either le’ it go or guide it home.”

Yes, home…inside her. 

Her knees twitched eager to spread for him; she felt drawn to open and allow him entrance.  Gods, she’d never wanted something so bad.  But the last time she’d been with a male…

He’d used me. 

Brought back with a start, Morrie snatched her hand away, earning a low grumble from the elder MacLeod. 

“I was hopin’ for the latter,” he muttered.

Sliding up to lean against the headboard, she turned on the lamp beside the bed and glared at him. 

But against her will, her hard gaze softened as she took in Kade’s beauty; soft golden skin with a hint of blush on his high cheeks, his chin strong. 

The man could have been immortalized in art or stone, an artist’s perfect muse with thick, dark eyelashes and full lips.  And yet totally masculine. 

Drinking him in with her gaze, he made her feel like a giddy schoolgirl.  Her breasts grew heavy with need, her nipples pushing hard to free themselves of their cotton confines.