Chapter Seven
SEVEN
OWAIN
“You must return to the Hour!”
Owain considered the men who stood before him, two Dark Ones, both furious, and both, he felt, about at their wit’s end. He didn’t wonder at that, since he, too, was done with all this foolishness.
“I don’t suppose you know any spells to grant insight, do you?” he asked Berry.
Her nose wrinkled while she thought. Owain had never been an admirer of nose-wrinkling in the past, but it was a charmingly adorable look when Berry did it.
Sexy, almost. His libido certainly felt the last was accurate, and once again, an erection threatened to ensue if he kept admiring her oval face, her silky black hair, and the greenish brown of her eyes that reminded him of autumn leaves lying in a shallow stream.
He really enjoyed looking at all her other bits, but mindful of her rejection of his offer of lovemaking the night before, when they were squished together into a child’s room at her cousin’s house, he managed to keep from admiring her plentiful curves.
His hands practically itched with the need to caress those curves.
“Owain?”
He was called out of his lustful thoughts by Berry’s voice, and the pointed look she gave him that warned he’d been asked a question. “My apologies, I was distracted. I will not return to the Hour, as I’ve said four times now.”
“You have to,” the Dark One named Finch said, making a sharp gesture. “It’s dangerous for you to be out.”
“How so?” he asked, his attention immediately moving to Berry when she shifted next to him. Her nickname certainly fit her, since she was as ripe and sweet as a sun-warmed strawberry.
“You are a danger to the mortal world,” Finch insisted, while the one who’d been introduced as Christian Dante stood silent, his gaze assessing.
“You’ll destroy it in your attempt to seek revenge.
Tatiana and I are tangentially responsible for your release, so you’ll understand when we tell you it’s important you return to the Hour so no mortals will perish in the name of revenge. ”
Owain thought about what the Dark One said, before turning to Berry. “They seem to think we wish to harm mortals.”
“They’re wrong,” she said, shifting again until she was almost touching him, the gesture not only warming his heart but firing his libido even higher. “You’re doing everything to keep from hurting people.”
“I am,” he agreed, then, unable to keep the question to himself, asked, “When you said no to lovemaking last night because we were at your cousin’s house, did that mean that you would be happy to do so elsewhere?”
She shot him a look that by rights should have scorched the hair from his head.
It made him want to laugh, that and the furious way she scrambled to hide the thoughts she had regarding him, his body, and all the things she wanted to do to him.
“Dude! Now is not the time to discuss mutual itch scratching.”
“I don’t believe scratching was in the top ten items on your list of things you wished to do to me,” he said, delighted with the way emotion made her eyes glint.
She was an intriguing woman, clearly wasted on the job of hunting individuals.
A vision arose in his mind of her riding across a grassy plain, her black hair streaming behind her like a silk banner, mortals scattering before the pounding hooves of her mount.
He paused at that thought, then added, “Perhaps I am not as blameless as I thought I was, since your horse would definitely trample mortals.”
“What horse?” she asked, her eyes going a little wild. “What mortals?”
“The ones in my mental vision of you.” He turned to where the two Dark Ones were now standing silent, watching them.
At the far end of the room, several dragons were clustered, ostensibly sitting around a fireplace, but he knew the focus of all was on Berry and him.
“Why do you believe I am a danger to mortals? Have you spoken to my mother? She is not to be trusted, not when it comes to my brothers and me. She has what they call issues.”
The two men exchanged glances before Christian said slowly, “You swore vengeance against all who aided in your downfall, including the mortals who turned their backs on you in your time of need, and the Dark Ones who resulted from the curse. For that reason, we ask that you return to the Hour, so that no one will be further harmed.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Berry said, her hand brushing against his. He realized from a thought she tried to keep hidden that she wanted him to hold it, and accordingly did so.
Her hand felt right in his, her fingers curling in a manner that had him once again at war with his libido.
“Owain isn’t evil. He said some of his brothers are, but Owain doesn’t want to hurt anyone, do you?” Berry turned to him, her mysterious eye glints now speaking volumes of her righteous indignation.
It warmed him to the spot where his soul used to reside that someone was indignant on his behalf.
“I wouldn’t mind squashing a few demon lords,” he admitted, for a handful of seconds dwelling with much pleasure on what he’d like to do to Desislav for his part in the thanes’ imprisonment.
“But on the whole, I do not seek revenge. Not even toward my mother, who I now believe is downright delusional in her quest to regain access to the Celtic Pantheon.”
“The what, now?” Berry asked. “Is that what you were going to tell me last night when you suddenly appeared stark naked and asked if I wanted to hook up?”
Both Dark Ones eyed him with unreadable expressions.
“That was because you kept thinking things about my hair and chest and arms, although I don’t understand the term ‘hip-hop’ in relation to my hair. That aside, I assumed you wished to explore a sexual relationship,” he answered, a bit testily, to be true.
She slid a glance toward the Dark Ones, lifting her chin as she said, “I don’t know why you’d believe that.”
“Why? Because you were thinking the most lascivious things possible about me. I assumed you wish to act on the attraction we both feel,” he said.
“I never thought anything remotely smutty about you!” she declared, her eyes now filled with a mixture of irritation and arousal.
Her pupils dilated slightly when he raised his eyebrows at her statement.
“Fine,” she just about snarled, shooting an indignant glance at the two Dark Ones. “I may have had a few stray thoughts about how nice you smell, but that’s it.”
“You also thought many things about my hair, and what you’d like to do to it,” he reminded her. “Specifically, where you’d like it to touch you.”
Both Dark Ones studied his hair.
“Oh!” Berry said, rounding on him, looking like she wanted to punch his nose. “You take that back! I thought about your hair brushing across my nipples earlier yesterday, when we were at that restaurant, not after we were at my cousin’s house!”
The Dark One named Finch tipped his head toward Berry when he asked the other, “Beloved?”
His uncle looked thoughtful, then nodded. “I believe so.”
“I am a thane, not a Dark One,” he told them. “We do not have Beloveds.”
“Well, bully for you,” Berry said, actually whapping him on the arm, her eyes still glittering with ire and arousal.
“Not that I care what you call a girlfriend, because I am not she. Her. Whatever is grammatically correct—I’m too annoyed to care.
Not only that, I’d like to point out, Mr. Chatty Pants, that a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell to strangers. ”
“We haven’t kissed,” he pointed out. “Despite you wanting to suck on my lower lip. Would you like to do that now?”
She looked more outraged, if possible, which delighted him more.
“As a matter of fact, I would,” she answered, taking him by surprise, which pushed his admiration of her quirky nature even higher.
With a defiant glance at the Dark Ones, she leaned into him, her breath brushing his lips as she started to scatter the softest kisses imaginable along his lips.
“What are you doing?” he asked a full minute later, when she stopped, a mixture of puzzlement and annoyance visible in her expression.
“Kissing you.”
“Ah.” He lifted an eyebrow a minute amount. “Would you like me to kiss you back? Although I’m not sure the idea of me starting at your knees and working my way up is appropriate in present company.”
“Will you stop reading my thoughts!” she bellowed, catching the attention of everyone in the large hall. “It’s rude, and besides, my brain thinks things about you that I didn’t authorize, like the kissing my thighs and belly and ... and ... other parts.”
“Definitely a Beloved,” Finch told Christian, who looked thoughtful.
“Is that a yes or no to me kissing you in a manner appropriate to our surroundings?” he asked, squelching the bubble of laughter that wanted to rise in response.
It was enough to keep a tight rein on his libido so that the dragons and Dark Ones didn’t witness him sporting a full erection, and he couldn’t do that if he was too busy being amused.
“No,” she said, giving an abrupt jerk of her head. “I don’t want to kiss you anymore.”
He raised his eyebrow a little higher.
She snarled something rude under her breath. “Later. You can return the kiss later. When everyone isn’t staring at us like we’re insects pinned to a board.”
The dragons had re-formed their huddle. The two Dark Ones looked pained, as if they were both trying hard not to laugh at the ridiculous situation.
Owain knew how they felt.
“And my point still stands—it’s not polite to tell strangers about intimate situations.” She looked so self-righteous he wanted to give in and kiss her the way his body had been demanding since he first saw her standing at the entrance to Abaddon.
“Technically, they are family,” he said, pointing to the two men before asking Christian, “Do you know which of the four of us you are descended from?”