Midnight's Temptation

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Aisley drew in a ragged, painful breath. There wasn’t a part of her that didn’t scream in agony. She no longer held back the tears, nor could her screams be contained.

She was alone. For the moment. There was no telling when Jason would return, or what new punishment he would inflict on her.

The damp ground she was lying on helped cool her heated skin. Aisley had a cramp in her leg, but she couldn’t move from lying on her side without passing out from the pain. So, she suffered through the cramp.

Jason had healed her ribs. Sort of. They were healed just enough that she couldn’t take a deep breath. Jason had broken and mended other bones in her body, and the suffering had sent her body into overload.

She couldn’t even use her magic to defend herself. Somehow Jason had taken away her ability. She was defenseless, vulnerable.

Helpless.

Her mind drifted to the only place of happiness she had—Phelan. She relived the precious memories to help her get through the worst of the pain.

Aisley would have to be careful though. If Jason realized what she was doing, he could use it against her. Phelan was hers and hers alone. He might hate her now, but she would always remember the taste of his kiss, the feel of his body sliding inside her.

“Ready for more?”

She jerked at the sound of Jason’s voice whispering in her ear. The movement caused agony to explode up her legs from her two broken femurs.

“You didna seriously think of falling asleep and finding a place of calm, did you?” Jason asked. He made a tsking sound as he walked around her.

Aisley took a deep breath and tried to prepare herself for the onslaught of his magic.

Yet, when the first wave barreled into her, she couldn’t hold back the screams.

* * *

Phelan blew out a breath as the voices echoed in the massive great hall of MacLeod Castle. Charon said nothing more about what had happened at Dreagan, and Phelan wanted it that way. It was better that way.

He leaned his head back and laced his fingers over his eyes while Charon and Laura added their account of what had transpired with Aisley.

He didn’t want to relive that moment again. At least not aloud. Phelan was tired of telling others what had happened when he had barely digested the thing himself.

It was no surprise when Isla took Aisley’s side. That is until Ronnie mentioned it was Aisley who had shot Larena. That’s when the hall erupted.

Phelan could feel his soul withering bit by bit. He’d made love to and protected the drough responsible for Larena’s death and her predicament now.

“Ronnie said she stopped Dale from beheading Larena,” Isla’s voice said over the others.

He cringed. Would it make Aisley smile to know there were Druids defending her?

Twice now he bit his tongue to keep from telling them he’d seen the pain of her past in her eyes as well as the good inside her. But how could there be good? She was a drough. She belonged to the Devil.

But damn his soul, he wanted her. He craved her like the desert craved moisture.

He hungered for her, yearned for her.

Ached for her.

When he could stand it no more, he stood and walked from the castle. The cool sea air rushing against his face helped to calm his racing heart.

He didn’t stop walking along the cliff’s edge until the castle was a speck on the horizon. Only then did he let the full extent of Aisley’s duplicity show.

In less than one heartbeat, he released Zelfor. With a roar he slashed his claws through the thick oak log at his feet. It didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, he felt worse.

He walked farther. When that didn’t help, he raced back to the castle as fast as he could. When the castle was a mile away, he jumped down the cliff, stopping midway. Then he climbed and leaped his way to one of the many caves in the cliffs.

Phelan stood at the entrance and looked out over the sea feeling more alone than ever. The ground was several hundred yards below, and the wind howled as if it knew the confusion inside him.

He was being ripped apart from the inside out. To have finally let someone in, only to be reminded of the treachery and dishonesty of people.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” said a soft, feminine voice behind him.

Phelan whirled around to find a woman of impossible beauty sitting on a rock looking at her nails that were painted a pale lavender with some design on them he couldn’t make out. Her shimmery blue-black hair hung well past her hips. She lifted unusual, swirling silver eyes to his. With her almost translucent skin, he knew she wasn’t mortal.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“You know.” She looked back at her nails before she let out a long sigh and got to her feet. She wore skintight jeans that tucked into black stiletto boots and a willowy shirt of pale purple that he swore he could see her nipples through.

He shook his head to clear it. “I know what?”

“Who I am. Or rather … what I am.”

Phelan studied her for a moment, scarcely able to believe what he was about to say. “You’re Fae.”

“Bingo, stud.”

He frowned at language coming from such a sweet face.

“Ah, let me guess,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You were expecting elegant and otherworldly.”

“Aye.”

“Well, get over it. Stud.” She looked him up and down. “And you are a stud. But that’s not what I’m here for. Unless,” she trailed off and smiled wantonly.

As attractive as she was, Phelan couldn’t believe the idea of touching her repulsed him. “Nay.”

“Can’t blame a Fae for trying.” She shrugged. “Alrighty then. Down to business.”

“Why do you talk so … modern?”

She smiled and tossed back her hair. “I love it. My queen, not so much. But I’m not at court now, am I? So I can talk however I want. So, spill your guts, stud.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why? You know your appeal to the opposite sex. Hell, I’m sure you also could’ve had any man you wanted. You ooze sex appeal, stud.”

Phelan blinked. He looked away from the Fae. “What do you want with me?”

“Haven’t you guessed? I’ve come to torment you.”

“You’re succeeding.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me my name?”

He blew out a frustrated breath and leaned a hand against the side of the cave. “Will it make you go away? Never mind. What’s your name?”

“As if I’d tell you.”

She was going to make his head explode. This wasn’t how he’d pictured a Fae. That wasn’t exactly true. He’d expected them to have unearthly beauty, but the quiet elegance he imagined wasn’t even in the vicinity.

“It was your pain,” she said quietly from beside him.

Phelan glanced over at her to look at her profile. When had she moved? “Why did you allow me to find the Fairy Pool and no’ let me see you then?”

“We were there.” She smiled and cut him a look. “You were otherwise occupied. Stud.”

He briefly closed his eyes and chuckled. “Can you tell me why you let me find the pool?”

“How do you know it was you we wanted to find it?”

That drew him up short. “You wanted Ai … You wanted the woman to find it.”

“Perhaps it was both of you.”

“She’s evil. You’re no’ a Dark Fae. Why would you want her?”

The Fae laughed, the sound bouncing off the sloping cave walls. “You’ve never seen a Fae. You don’t know what one looks like, much less one of the Dark.”

“I’m right.” He knew he was, he was just waiting for her to admit it.

Her grin grew. “You’re right.”

“Tell me why you’d have interest in a drough.”

“I could ask you the same question.”

Phelan spun around and stalked the short distance to the back of the cave. “Stop it! Stop answering my questions with questions.”

“Then stop being a wanker.”

“Just give me an answer. Please.”

There was a soft exhale before she said, “It won’t matter how I answer you. Whatever I say, you’ll question it further. Sometimes, stud, it’s better when there isn’t an answer.”

“I doona believe that.”

“If you can answer me with truth—the truth you’ve barely allowed yourself to understand—as to why you had interest in a drough, then I’ll answer your question.”

Phelan sank onto a nearby boulder and dropped his head into his hands as he leaned forward. “I can no’.”

“You can’t say the words because hearing them out loud will make it more true than hearing them in your head.”

He nodded. He wanted to deny everything she said, but he couldn’t. It was as if with her, he could admit to things he couldn’t even admit to himself.

There was a crunch of a boot as she nimbly made her way over rocks to sit beside him. “Tell me. Why were you with a drough?”

“Because she stirred my blood. Being without her seemed impossible.”

The Fae patted his shoulder. “If we hadn’t wanted Aisley to see the Fairy Pool we would’ve waited until you returned alone. We wanted the two of you to see it together. And before you ask, I can’t tell you why. Not yet at least.”

“Does it have to do with the Druids on Skye?” he asked as he lifted his head to look at her.

She nodded her head, her beauty shining even in the dark cave. “I’m not sure why it involves the Druids, but it does. We aren’t all-seeing, though some of us claim to be.”

“Why wait until now to come to me? You could’ve come while we were still on Skye or in Inverness, or even at Dreagan.”

She lifted one arched blue-black brow when he mentioned Dreagan, her gaze full of revulsion she didn’t try to hide. “The Fae don’t mix with the Dragon Kings. Ever.”

“All right.” The finality in her voice made him want to ask what had happened between them, but he knew she wouldn’t answer. “So are you here to comfort me?”

“Not exactly, stud. I’m here because I could never resist a hunky man who needed a good, swift kick to his perfectly formed ass.”

“What?”

She grinned widely. “I knew that would get your attention. Seriously though, you need to stop thinking of the woman and focus on your enemy.”

“Wallace.” Phelan sat up straight. “What do you know?”

“I know he’s more powerful than ever before. He holds more magic than Deirdre collected in her thousand years.”

“Shite.”

“That’s certainly one way of putting it, stud.”

Phelan got to his feet and started toward the entrance. He halted after a few steps and looked back at her, her silvery eyes almost glowing in the dark. “Is that all you came to tell me?”

“No.”

He waited as she stood, her tall, thin body gliding effortlessly over the jumbled rocks upon the floor until she stood beside him.

“The surname you search for who can end the selmyrs is Bennett.”

“Thank you,” he said and exited the cave.

Rhi watched him leave with a heavy heart. She had only given him half the clue he would need to discern the only person who could bring down the selmyr.

He wouldn’t have believed her anyway if she’d given him the truth.

She walked to the edge of the cave and watched Phelan’s form reach the top of the cliff. “Be careful, prince. Someone you care about is going to die very soon.”