CHAPTER 17

Silas

I cut the engine andlet my eyes fall to the smaller hand tangled with mine. Nika's chest rose and fell, knackered and dead to the world.

It was a source of pride that the always-on-guard princess felt safe enough around me to sleep so deeply, and it probably showed on my face every time I thought about it. No doubt I looked like a right bastard smiling to myself when no one was watching.

In the moonlight, the rebel Fae was a star plucked directly from the heavens. Her moon-white flesh was a beaming light in the dark.

Listen to me, the lovesick poetic hack trying to throw two words together to describe the beauty next to me, though nothing will ever come close.

My bird had slipped away to her dream world shortly after I laid my shattered past at her feet. I'd never told anyone what haplessly spilled from my lips tonight. She listened to every word, never interrupting or casting judgmental eyes my direction. Simply soaked in each word and focused all her attention on the bum-faced wanker rambling a bunch of tripe about his past as if any of it really mattered. None of it did.

If Rilas came back, I'd send the bastard right back where he belonged.

But the stone-cold Fae surprised me. Me, a ruthless killer who'd seen several lifetimes and deserved none of it. The goddess, the angel sent from above, the gift I didn't deserve but would spend my life becoming worthy of, reached out and comforted me. As if she knew exactly what I needed, Nika offered a quiet sympathy that rattled my bones and shook loose emotions I hadn't felt in many, many years. Her somber kindness eased the weight in my chest, and I came alive with her soothing touch.

And then I said something stupid.

Naturally.

But instead of pulling away or rejecting me, Nika tossed a smart comment my direction and kept her hand firmly linked with mine. Like a lad going through his first bout of puberty, my cock was instantly hard, and I said a little prayer she didn't notice.

How did a bloke blubbering about his grief-stricken past explain away a raging boner? "Sorry, I get a proper stiffy anytime you're cheeky"? I thought it over for a second. Maybe that wasn't a half-bad excuse. I'd said worse to her, and she was still here.

A proper Vlad while telling a bird about the brother you killed is a new low even for you, you sex-obsessed troll.

It was then when I knew I was too far gone. Too helplessly in her orbit. Even should she never welcome me into her arms the same way, I was hers. Would always be hers. Nothing she did would shake me now, and I pitied the fools who tried to hurt her because I didn't care about my morality.

I'd killed enough people for my heart to drip black. I'd stained my hands with enough blood to welcome another layer. No mercy would come to any man or woman who thought they had any right to harm her. I'd be writing a long list in silver from this day forward.

I'd come to terms with the fact that I was the blithering nitwit following her around, hoping her light would shine down on him; that her kind heart might save mine in the end. It never failed to beguile and enchant me with how lucky a daft wanker I was to have any reason to tie myself with the ice princess. I silently thanked both her father and the lad for putting me directly in her path. Of course, what she was going through, or rather what she would go through, I was partly to blame for.

Nothing rattled me since killing my brother, but a prick like Bear Claw in her head and Reaper's last earthly tie dead in a chair had poisoned my thoughts with endless fear. If Rilas was brought back from the After...

I'll kill them all.

I'd kill for her. Die for her. Give my worthless and unworthy soul to her if it served any use. It was the first time in my painfully long existence I didn't care what happened to me as long as she was safe. But I was more useful to her alive than dead, so I'd destroy every evil prick after her. Starting with those Brotherhood bastards. It meant doing things I normally wouldn't even consider—like accepting help from the lucky wankers in her head—but I didn't have to be happy about it.

If I had it my way, I'd stay in this car forever with her, the heat of her tiny hand securely merged with mine. But it was too open out here, and I couldn't risk it. Reaper gained something the second he killed his mother. Darkness like that festered from the inside out. I'd need to be on top of my game to stay five steps ahead of those bastards.

"Bear Claw says he gives you his vow as a Brother that no harm will come to me."

I hadn't mentioned it through all the rage and jealousy, but the mere fact that Nika was given a Brother's Oath from Bear Claw of all people was alarming. That tosser hated everyone, and he'd never vowed an oath to anyone, let alone for the sake of someone else. Even if he was trapped along with his two animal guides, which seemed to be the case, I couldn't make sense of it.

Bear Claw often went toe-to-toe with Reaper and the other two. He was the wild card. That tribesman didn't listen to anyone but himself. But for some odd reason, he vowed his protection to Nika. And then he made her laugh. Or one of them did. Those wankers. Jealous didn't cover the feeling. If not for the fact that they clearly wanted to protect and keep Nika safe, I'd be poring over every known ritual to evict those bastards from my bird's head.

I didn't want to admit it, but I wouldn't be surprised if the gorgeous Fae bewitched them all. I'd been spellbound since she walked into that pub. I couldn't claim her as mine. Not yet. Fuck me. But now three lucky nincompoops got to live in her head while I struggled to make sense of her hand in mine—something she could've done out of compassion and nothing more.

My hopeful arse wanted to believe she cared about me, but the little Fae's world was coming down all around her. A father in the wind, gone, vanished without a trace. An entire society out for her head. A power even I couldn't wrap my head around, and the only person who had any insight on it dead. Now a terrifying group of killers were after her, bent on capturing the rebel Fae. Not killing. Not bringing back to the society hunting her.

Capturing.

Summoning someone flipped the bloody script. Reaper severing his last earthly tie couldn't be coincidence. Her father's confidence I'd one day be the only one who could save her wasn't coincidence. Each event was a piece of fate fitting into place. I was clever enough to see it for what it was. These wankers didn't want her dead. They wanted her for themselves.

He wanted her for himself.

"I'll find a power so great no one can stop me, Brother. I'll bring the entire world to its knees..."

Rilas's words felt like poppycock when he'd muttered them, several breaths away from death with our father's dagger lodged in his chest. The words of a dying man I'd thought at the time, but now I wondered if my brother knew something I didn't. Had Rilas known all this time one day he'd reclaim his physical body and capture the power he'd always wanted? Had her father known? But why had Bane fled? Why leave her all alone with some poor, misguided bastard with a checkered past?

Where the bloody After is her father?

Nika was a Soul Collector. A beast of myth and legend. The hand of fate and death. The creature of nightmares for any powerful being. But she had a heart of gold filled with nothing but hope. Her kindness spilled out of her, even when the little bird got cheeky. It painted her in all the colors of the rainbow while I was over here; darkening her doorstep. She was bright and beautiful, and I was the shadow and cold stretching out to touch her, hoping her colors would one day dye me the same.

Under her command, the power would sing and radiate light. I refused to believe otherwise. Because after years of torture and ridicule, Nika kept her light. Kept her powerful goodness. Others darkened and were shaped by that sort of pain, but Nika found a way to remain the moonlight in a pitch-black night. And I'd protect that light. Whatever it took, whoever I had to kill, I'd make sure my darkness, and anyone else's, never tainted her brilliant colors.

Nika might not see the hand of fate waving in her face, but I did. I'd never believed in fate, thought it all bloody hogwash, but Bane knew. They all knew. I was meant to be here. I was meant to save her from who they'd summon—my fucking undead brother.

Releasing the sleeping Fae's hand was one of the hardest things I'd done yet. I didn't want to let go. I wanted to stay connected to her forever. But I silently promised myself I'd find a reason to hold her once inside.

Going around the car, I scooped the slumbering princess into my arms. I stiffened when she released a little surprised sigh, but instead of waking, Nika cuddled her body closer and laid her beautiful face against my chest.

I stood there like a complete arse, marveling at the angel I carried. Then with a grateful sigh, I wandered into the small cabin I kept in the woods, blue magic dancing out and searching the area for any witless plonker who thought they could take me on with a goddess to protect.

I tossed my shirt offand into a bin once I'd laid the sleeping Fae on the only bed. I pretended I hadn't planned it that way, but the places I chose first only ever had one bed. I permitted myself that one selfish mercy. I needed her close, her luscious scent in my nose, her soft body against mine, and if that meant being a little naughty by making sure there was only one bed, no couch, then I would.

With a quick sweep of my magic, I made sure all the windows were secure. Someone from outside looking in couldn't see, but I'd see any of those bastards coming. Except that wanker Vapor. He was a tricky motherfucker, but none of them could beat me. Not even Reaper could dosey doe with me. Blood magic or not, they were no match for me and they knew it. That was likely why Reaper summoned Rilas because I knew all their tricks. All their weaknesses. I'd mop the fucking floor with their blood.

Cowards.

There was a trap door in the corner of the room only I could access with my power. If need be, I'd send the princess on her merry way while I took out the rubbish. But if those wankers came here, it'd confirm they had a way to track her. I'd need to break the connection, which would require a level of magic I wasn't used to using. I'd have to use one of my rarer artifacts. Still, if that was what it took, I'd damn well do it.

We'd become ghosts. Not literally. Didn't want to give Nika any more reason to berate me on my poor bloody choices, though the idea of that mean glare of hers went straight to my cock. A reminder that I was a goddamn beast if all it took was one look from her to make my trousers tight.

The girl just found someone dead, has a bunch of men in her head, and turned into a bleeding bear, and here you are, full mast and head in your arse.

Tossing the little Fae a wistful glance, I decided to risk a quick shower to wash the night off me. Well, and to deal with the stiffy that always seemed to pop up anytime I thought about her bent over that chair, moaning my name, warm wetness wrapped around my...

I'm a bloody knobhead. Who stands here next to a sleeping woman with their cock hard after escaping another brush with death? A fucking rubbish man, that's who.

"Silas?" I nearly reached the door when a raspy voice called my name, the sound of it going right to my much-too-hard cock.

Fuck me.

I turned to find Nika already sitting up, still as beautiful as the first day I met her. Standing near the bathroom door, I tried casually to hide the evidence I was a right bastard who could only think with his cock rather than his head. "You're awake. I...er, I just...well, you see, I thought I'd take an itsy-bitsy shower. You're knackered, and I didn't want to wake you."

Real smooth there, Casanova.

Her raspy giggles went straight to my overactive knob, and now I really was a goner. "I guess the transformation took a lot out of me. I should shower, too."

Don't do it. Don't you dare ask.

"You could join me," I said, nearly stumbling over my words like a total plonker.

I expected to get a death glare, one I'd add to my fap collection when I was sent to the shower alone after my shameless invitation, but then Nika threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

Standing there like a total wanker, I watched with wide eyes as Nika stripped off her shirt first. Then she shimmied out of her body-hugging trousers. Moisture flooded my mouth as, with an upwards flick of her luminous, soul-stealing gaze, the Fae unhooked her bra and tossed it with the rest of her discarded clothes. In only a thong, she took predatory steps my direction.

My thinker was out of commission. All the blood in my body had detoured straight to my cock. Staring at her beautiful body illuminated by nothing but moonlight sort of did that to a bloke, and to be fair, I'd never been very good with women who could overpower me in a second with a blade or their power.

Or their fucking gorgeous eyes.

My hungry stare ate up the visage of the Dark Fae goddess on her way over to me, perfect body a sway and dance in shadow and moonlight. Every muscle in my body turned to stone, and I forgot how to breathe. Who needed to breathe, anyway? Breathing was overrated. Only wankers and dimwits needed to breathe. Air was for cowards.

When she reached me, her hands smoothed down my rigid chest, and I visibly swallowed like the brainless troll I was. "Are you going to just stand there all night, or are you going to help me wash up?" she whispered, her sleep-husky voice a goddamn caress all on its own.

Fuck me, I'll never forgive myself if I blow my load like a bleeding virgin before I sink my cock into her and make this dangerous Fae moan pretty for me.

The trousers situation was dire. Defcon one, as those daft American Normies like to say. I was in serious danger of embarrassing myself if I didn't get this saucy wench in the shower and under control. If she said one more word, I was finished. Done. Over.

Grabbing the gorgeous Fae by the shoulders, I reiterated in my head that I would not come in my trousers like some pubescent teenager. I'd lived for centuries. I'd had hundreds of women in my bed. This lethal beauty wouldn't get that from me. I was the notorious Shimmering Assassin. Ugh, that nickname was brutal, but it made people shudder with fear. Anyway, I could absolutely handle one little Dark Fae rebel.

"Shall we?" my voice croaked, and I died a little inside.

Better start breathing, coward. You'll need all the air you can get the way this is going.

But her laughter was worth it. I didn't mind the stain on my pride if it made her giggle like that.

On her toes, the beautiful Fae wrapped her arms around my neck and offered me a sensual look that made my already painful erection throb like it had its own heartbeat. "Kiss me."

And I did. Fuck me, I kissed that little rebel so hard you wouldn't know if I wanted to snog her or devour her whole.