“Bree, this is Peter. Thanks for letting me know you’re out of town. Call me as soon as you get this. I’m having trouble tracing your friend’s name. I don’t know how long you plan to be away, but longer might be better. We still haven’t caught the killer. This case is getting stranger by the minute.”

She’d call him when she got back. Bree went upstairs to the room they’d given her, a few doors down from Faelan’s. She stepped onto the balcony overlooking the fields and stables at the back of the castle, her thoughts on Sorcha and Faelan and dead bodies and how she could get Peter off Faelan’s tail. The night was cool, the moon bright, but not full. A hill rose in the distance, and Bree saw a stone wall enclosing a graveyard.

Her aching stomach forgotten, she left the room and hurried downstairs, smiling at two men in kilts she passed in the hall. She’d met them earlier but couldn’t remember their names. Outside, she wove her way through the cars parked in the driveway and made her way up the hill. Hugging her arms against the night air, she approached the crumbling wall. She loved cemeteries. She was some distance away when she spotted a figure near the back of the graveyard. Her heart lurched for a second, then she saw it was a man standing underneath an old tree. He moved from grave to grave, head bowed, stopping to touch each one. She watched as he dropped to his knees and leaned his head against a stone. Faelan had found his family.

Her eyes stung. She wanted to go to him, but was afraid to intrude on his grief. Instead, she turned away, hurrying back to the castle, her face wet for him. She crawled into bed and cried for his pain. Then she cried for herself, her father, her grandmother, her twin, and her poor Aunt Layla, who died too young.

Bree woke when the covers lifted and the mattress dipped. Her nose told her who it was before a masculine leg brushed hers. Faelan. She lay still as he slid closer and slipped both arms around her, cradling her against his warm body. He didn’t speak, just held her. Did he want to sleep next to her again? She wasn’t sure it would be enough for her tonight. Several heartbeats later, she felt a prod against her backside and started to turn, but he held her in place. He slid his hand under the soft cotton of her top, filling his hand with her breast.

“I need you,” he whispered, nudging her hair aside, touching his lips to her neck. His hand moved to the other breast and then lower, dipping inside her pajamas, until with an impatient sigh, he made them disappear.

With her back still facing him, he slid a hand under her thigh and pulled her leg up. She bent one knee, giving his fingers the access they desired. For minutes she hovered between two worlds, then she felt the tip of him nudging for entry.

She reached back, clutching his thigh as he slipped inside, one slow inch at a time, until their bodies were joined. He pulled her against his chest, holding them both still. His teeth scraped her ear. Steadying her hip with one hand, he pulled out slowly, and then slid in again. Two strokes, three, and she was ready to fall.

His fingers dug into her hip as he moved faster, driving in, pulling out… then nothing. He was gone. She turned, but he was already pushing her onto her back. He lowered his body between her thighs, and locking eyes with hers, he entered again. His mouth covered hers, and on the second stroke she exploded, lips open against his, her heart crying words she had no right to feel.

Still inside her, he rose to his knees and wrapped both hands high around her thighs, eyes glittering as he watched their joining. He groaned and dropped back down to her, body against body, still, except for the throbbing inside as he emptied himself into her.

They lay quietly, the only movement the fast rise and fall of chest against breasts, and Faelan’s breath warm at her ear. He dropped a gentle kiss on her brow, her cheek, and finally her lips. He slipped out and gathered her in his arms, snug against him. She lay with her head on his chest, her leg resting on his hip, listening to the beat of his heart, and she knew it was where she belonged. She’d met him only days ago, yet she trusted him more than anyone she’d ever known. If the world was ending, which it might well be, he would be the one she’d run to.

But what about him and her? Would he want to stay here? Would she have to leave?

“Are you okay?” Faelan asked.

She nodded, too sated to move, even to clean up.

“You’re quiet,” he said, gently stroking her arm.

It was hard to speak, with her heart so overwhelmed. “I’m worried,” she said, deciding to share the lesser of her concerns.

“About what?”

“Tomorrow I’m going to have to tell everyone about Russell. How he deceived me.”

“You needn’t worry about that. They’ve all faced deception, in one manner or another.”

She felt his even breathing and thought he was asleep, until he spoke again.

“I had a brother. Liam. He was two. Tavis, Ian, and I were keeping an eye on him while my father was having a sword repaired. We were in the village playing marbles outside the blacksmith’s shop. We got busy and didn’t realize Liam had wandered off. Then we saw a man leading him away. I chased them. Tavis followed me. Ian went to get my father. The man grabbed Liam and ran. When he turned, I could see he wasn’t a man. He was a demon. He let me get close enough to taunt me, then he dangled Liam over an old well. I was the closest, just on the other side of the well. Tavis was a few steps behind me. The demon laughed and dropped Liam. I grabbed for him. Caught his hand. I tried… but I couldn’t hold him. He was screaming and wiggling, and my hands were sweaty. My father came running, but it was too late. He climbed down, but Liam was already dead.”

“Oh, Faelan.” Now she understood why he was so protective. Bree turned and wrapped her arms tighter around him, resting her head on his chest. Her face tingled where it pressed against his battle marks. “I’m so sorry. How old were you?”

“Seven. That’s why we moved to Philadelphia. We didn’t come back until my father thought it was safe.”

“What happened to the demon?”

“He ran as soon as he dropped Liam. We never found him. Never knew who he was. I dream about it sometimes. There was something about the demon…” Faelan sighed. “But I can’t rightly place it. I can’t see his face. All I can see is Liam screaming.” Faelan ran his hand hard across his eyes. “It was my fault. If I’d been watching him…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” But that was like telling the waves to stop crashing. At least he had memories of his brother. She hadn’t even had a chance to know her sister.

He pulled her closer, holding her too tight, and in minutes, he was asleep. His hold on her relaxed, and Bree lay there, aching inside for the little boy who’d watched his brother die, believing it was his fault, and grown into a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. And now he was trying to save the entire human race. Whether he knew it or not, he needed her. She couldn’t fight her feelings anymore.

He’d hidden things from her, but he hadn’t outright lied. He’d had to be certain she could be trusted. So what if he was a warrior born in another century? Did it matter in the long run? He was here now. There was no way back. He was honorable, and he loved his family. That was a plus. Except for his lovely cousin. And there was something about him that made her feel as though she’d found the one thing she had searched for all her life.

She would accept whatever he would give, make the most of the time they had. After her heartbeat calmed, she slept. In the early hours of morning, she woke, still snuggled close to him. She’d dreamt of making love to him again. She wiggled closer, and he murmured her name, tightening his arms around her. Bree ran her hand over his chest, and the muscles quivered in his sleep. She worked her way down his flat stomach, dragging her fingers through the arrow of hair until she met firm, hard flesh. His body tensed as he woke.

“Mmmm.”

Her hand slid lower, detouring over his thighs before coming back to the parts that made him groan. He started to turn, but before he could move, she climbed on top, sitting astride him, knees digging into the mattress. She rubbed against him until his breath grew ragged. He clutched her hips and tried to lift her, but she snared his hands and planted them on her breasts. He groaned again, hands kneading, hips thrusting. “Have a care, lass. I’m dying here.”

She smiled and let go of his hands. He lifted her hips, impaling her body on his.

***

“They died the year I was suspended?”

Sean sighed and folded his hands. “I didn’t want to ruin your homecoming with sadness.”

“How did they die?” Faelan asked. “Tavis’s gravestone said he was buried at sea.”

“There was a shipwreck on the way home.”

“From America? From coming to help me?”

Sean nodded.

Tavis had died trying to save him. Faelan had to swallow before he could speak. “Ian?”

“He survived, but your father died around the time Tavis did.”

“How?”

Sean lowered his gaze. “There was heavy fighting after Druan’s virus was destroyed. The Underworld was in chaos. Even retired warriors were caught in the battle.”

His whole family had paid for his failure. His whole clan. The whole world. He wouldn’t let her suffer, too. She wasn’t even his.

***

Bree hid behind a rosebush, watching Faelan race across the field beside a huge black stallion, a descendent of Nandor. The horse must be holding back, because they ran neck and neck for the length of the field. At the end, they slowed. Faelan swung onto the stallion’s back, and the horse reared, front paws dancing in the air. Faelan threw back his head and gave a fierce shout that sent shivers through Bree’s body. The stallion lunged forward, and horse and rider galloped like the wind, hair and mane flying, melded together, man and beast, an image she’d take to her grave.