Chapter Eight #2
“Fine, but don’t come crawling to me asking for help when you’re on your knees in supplication.” Orla came as close to snarling as a raven could when Owain moved away.
He gave a brief martyred eye roll and told her, “Have you ever seen me on my knees in supplication?"
The men all stared at him.
“There’s always a first time,” Orla said with an offended sniff, and proceeded to pace back and forth across the crates, muttering rude things under her breath.
“Owain can talk to birds, too?” Aisling asked me.
“It’s a family thing,” I answered while the men held a brief discussion, deciding quickly that they didn’t need the maze.
It was dismantled and stacked in a corner; then the men returned, only to begin disrobing, each man handing his mate valuables like phones and rings, while they also shucked their winter coats and, to my surprise, their suit coats, shirts, sweaters, or any other garment worn on their upper half.
Owain hesitated for a moment, but I held out a hand.
He had laid his long wool duster over a chair, but gave me a little nod as he handed me his phone and a signet ring he wore on his pinkie, and, after a moment’s thought, pulled from around his neck a small round metal disk about the size of a fifty-cent piece threaded with a leather thong.
“My talisman!” Orla croaked, bobbing up and down a couple of times. “Give that to me!”
“Under no circumstances are you to do so,” Owain warned me, bending a stern look on Orla, who continued to swear softly to herself.
I tucked it into my pocket, my gaze locked on him when he pulled off his shirt.
The memory of his naked body remained high on my list of favorite things to recall, but an abstracted side of my mind wondered if I hadn’t allowed my lust to overenhance how physically impressive he was, and how much I wanted to explore that magnificent body.
He laid his shirt on top of the coat draped on the chair, and when he turned back, I seemed to lose the ability to breathe.
“Goddess above,” I murmured to myself, my eyes huge as I tried to take in his chest and arms, and the little ripple of muscle that went down his belly. He didn’t have a ton of body hair, just enough to make me feel warm and wobbly inside.
“Hmm?” Ysolde, who had been holding her dragon’s suit coat and shirt, turned to me. Her gaze slid past me to Owain as he listened to something Christian explained about the fighting. “Oh, my. Yes. I see what you mean.”
“Amelie has Jim, so all is well there,” Aisling said as she tucked her phone away. “Now we can—holy moly!” She, too, sent admiring glances toward Owain.
“He’s taken, so you can stop ogling him,” someone said in a voice etched with acid. To my horror, I realized it was me, and immediately put a hand over my mouth for a few seconds before I spread my fingers and apologized. “I had no idea my mouth was going to say that. Please accept my apologies.”
To my relief, the ladies smiled.
“You’re new to this, so no one blames you for being worried.
And so you don’t get upset, our policy is to look, but not touch, not even Baltic’s famed six-pack that Yrian has recently given a run for his money.
Oh, lord, that sentence got out of control, grammatically speaking, but I’m sure you understand,” Aisling said with a little pat on my arm.
“Oooh,” Allie said, catching sight of Owain’s chest. “I see what you mean.”
“Kincsem,” Drake said with an obvious warning in his eyes that had Aisling blowing him a kiss.
“I know, I know, you don’t even like us looking, but come on! If you guys are going to strut around looking like male models, then you can accept a little admiration. You don’t see Baltic having a hissy over Ysolde admiring his brother’s six-pack.”
Baltic, who had been glowering at Drake, suddenly adopted a noble mien, while Ysolde, who hadn’t even been looking at Yrian, pursed her lips at her dragon. “That’s because Baltic knows I love him beyond all reason. Plus, it’s really Yrian’s back tattoo that I admire the most.”
Becket’s expression turned profoundly smug as she tidied up Yrian’s shirt and coat. “It really is magnificent, not that the rest of the dragons and vamps aren’t up to that standard. Ladies, shall we go to the loft area? It’ll have better viewing, and I have dragon’s blood up there.”
Owain nodded when I glanced toward him, obviously understanding my reluctance to leave him surrounded by dragons who didn’t care about him, and vampires who apparently had conflicted interests.
I hesitated, my stomach doing excited flip-flops when he marched over to me, his hands on my arms as he leaned close to say, “I appreciate your concern, but I do not believe this is an ambush.”
I slid my glance toward Yrian, who I felt was our biggest threat of all the people present. “Are you sure?”
To my delight, he smiled, the laugh lines around his eyes crinkling in a way that had me regretting the fact that I’d turned down his offer of lovemaking the night before.
Dear goddess, the man was gorgeous, but more impressive was the fact that he was there despite disagreeing with the others.
He wasn’t the hothead they seemed to believe; he was clearly open to listening to reason, to weighing his actions before coming to a decision.
“I’m sure.” His smile grew cheeky, his eyes now back to their ringed pale gray. “I believe they truly do not know what a thane is.”
“I know,” Yrian said without even glancing our way.
We both looked at him, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I said to Owain, “Aisling warned me. OK, I withdraw my concern. Have fun beating up everyone with your fabulous thaneness,” I said, and leaned forward to plant a good-luck kiss on his cheek.
He froze; then suddenly I was plastered all over his chest, his arms holding me tight as his mouth pressed surprisingly gentle kisses along my lips.
I swear I about melted against him, my body turning boneless as I parted my lips, allowing him full access.
He didn’t just kiss me; he took possession of my mouth, tasting me and urging me to taste him, as well.
A sense of wanting, of bone-deep need, settled over me.
It was a foreign emotion, but at the same time so familiar that I felt it a part of me.
“Great. Now I’m going to have the gigantic knocker hanging around, distracting him when he should be releasing me from this freakin’ curse. Well, I won’t have it! I won’t have it at all, do you hear?” Orla stomped back and forth along the top of the crate.
“Can you send her to the Akasha?” I murmured against Owain’s lips.
“Yes, but she is so unpleasant after I retrieve her, it’s not worth the respite,” he answered, his eyes searching mine for something.
“Unpleasant?” Orla screeched, her voice rising at least an octave. “Unpleasant! You have no idea of how unpleasant I can make your life, thane!”
We both ignored her as she continued to pace across the crate top, bitching, but it was Owain who held my attention. I didn’t want to examine the wad of my tangled emotions concerning him, and managed to slide out of his embrace, but not before whispering, “Tonight.”
Arousal turned his eyes dark, and I may have allowed myself to climb the steep wooden staircase to the loft area with a bit more hitch in my get-along than was normal.
“I wonder if that’s tantamount to the claiming of a mate?” Ysolde asked the others, scooting a little down a wooden bench dotted with comfy cushions so I could join her.
“Could be,” Aisling answered, studying me for a moment before smiling. “If you do end up with Owain, let us know. We have a ‘mates and others’ chat group where we keep in touch, and we’d be happy to add you.”
“OK,” I said, a little taken aback. I didn’t know what else to say to that.
“What is the bird saying?” Allie asked as she sat with Tatiana on another bench. “Oooh, champagne. You've learned well, Becket!”
“Nothing worth repeating,” I said, glad when Orla ran out of steam and flew in her lopsided manner around the barn, landing on an exposed rafter.
A faint rumble in the distance had me turning my head to listen. I couldn’t imagine a storm had rolled in so quickly when the weak winter sun was out earlier, but the sound of thunder was unmistakable.
Becket, who had been handing out glasses of champagne, leaned over the loft railing and reminded everyone of the rules.
“You guys have ten minutes. Nothing but fists, and since we don’t have Gabriel present to heal people, keep in mind that if you get hurt, you have no one to blame but yourselves. Ready? And ... go!”
The men, who had spread around the room in a circle, all rushed forward toward the center ... all but Owain. He had turned to look in the same direction as me, his head slightly cocked as he, too, was trying to catch the sound of thunder.
Drake and Baltic took his distraction to try to tackle him, but right as they rushed him, he lifted a hand, and to my utmost surprise, they stopped and looked at him in confusion.
Behind them, Christian and Finch had ganged up on Yrian.
“What is it?” Baltic asked, clearly understanding that something wasn’t right.
I set down my champagne and stood up, moving over to the window high on the loft wall.
“What’s wrong?” Aisling and Ysolde asked at the same time.
Something in their voices must have gotten through to the men, because the others stopped fighting and quickly got to their feet.
I held my breath for a minute, then caught the faintest hint of words carried on the frosty wind.
“Owain!” I dashed to the stairs, almost falling down them in my haste to get to him. “They’re coming!”
“The Morrigna,” he said in a tone that had goose bumps rippling down both of my arms.
“Who or what is a Morrigna?” Drake asked, glancing up at where Aisling leaned over the railing asking what was going on.
“Get the women to the house,” Owain said, taking me by the hand, Orla swooping down and clutching the bare flesh of his shoulder as he ran for the door of the barn.