The Defiant Curse (The Ravensmire Chronicles #4)

Prologue

Scotland

Castle Ravensmire

That Morning

When they woke up that morning, everything was perfectly normal, and that was a good thing. As of late, things had quieted down significantly at the castle—as in the things that were going bump in the night, were no longer doing just that.

Doors weren’t slamming.

Spirits weren’t wailing.

Basically, the spooks weren’t spooking.

Oh, and both Michael and Graham were good with that, too. Never let it be said that they wanted the spirits to be running amok there.

Because they didn’t.

Luckily for them, the silence came the second they put Catherine’s child with her in the lake. By tossing the baby’s bones in and letting them sink to the bottom, the vengeful spirit calmed the hell down.

Thankfully, too.

Yeah, and for them, that was a damn good thing too.

Why?

Well, maybe because they were now newlyweds, and they were also preparing for the wedding that was happening in a few short weeks to be hosted at Ravensmire Castle.

It was going to be a big deal, too. The family would be heading there, and the most important guest would be the President of the United States.

When the media found out about that…

Oh, the castle would be in the spotlight.

For the two caretakers, now, there was too much shit to be done to leave anything to chance.

The last of the guest rooms had to be finished, the remaining castle renovations had to be done, and the last thing either man had time for was the onslaught of a haunting.

Ceit did NOT need to be Ceit-ing.

Duncan was NOT allowed to be Duncan-ing.

And the dead were not on the party’s guest list.

Only, as they would find out, everything was not as calm as one would hope. That morning, the phone would ring, and immediately, they would both know trouble was brewing.

And it was going to be BIG trouble.

Chaos was coming.

Oh, and to think that the morning started as it normally did for both Michael and Graham.

They’d made love, had coffee in bed, and then handled the menagerie of animals that were reliant on them for survival. As caretakers of the estate and keepers of the castle, they had a job to do.

Rain.

Snow.

Or shine.

So, that took time and dedication. All of which they were willing to do.

When Elizabeth had given them both a stake in the magnificent old lady, they wanted her glory to shine through for when their guests came.

Ravensmire sat crumbling for far too long, and she’d been meticulously put back together again, so history could continue—not end with her.

And continue she would.

After the wedding, they would be opening it up for party rentals, holiday festivities, and so much more.

Both Callen and Chris were giving them carte blanche with what went on there—with the provision if the Blackhawks had to leave the US, and have a safe place to lay low, it would fully be available to them.

They were a big brood, after all.

That, if anything, was feasible to the two men. They had invested all of their money into the castle, and all Michael and Graham had to do was run it.

That was beyond fair.

So, when Gryphen and Ian’s wedding was over, they would be opening it up for Christmas in Scotland, and neither man could wait.

They were going to deck the halls and allow tours of the castle—since the dead seemed to stop haunting. That had been up in the air until they’d put the dead to rest.

Oh, and resting they were.

Now, Duncan was safely tucked in the crypt with his lover, Ciarán, by his side, and Ceit was put back in her crypt alongside the man she’d married and given an heir.

Those three were calm, resting, and at peace.

Not only had the main dwellers been given their final resting place to live out their eternity, but so had the other three dead.

After finding his bones where Catherine had dragged him, they had buried Ceit’s evil father as far from the castle as possible, out by the trails.

Yep.

The box and all that had been in it was nailed shut and then dropped in a hole where he would spend the rest of his time.

Oh, and that was exactly where he needed to be since he’d been a horrible human being during life. Selling off your children to be married for money, and then killing one when she was unhappy…

That was shit parenting at its best, even during that time.

Finally, with him found and put to rest, the darkness in the castle was also no longer haunting the place.

Catherine was still in the lake—the pieces they couldn’t bring up, but she was given her baby back, and in the process, the child was also given a grave.

Watery, but a grave, nonetheless.

Hopefully, with all the people at rest, it would be safe now to have outsiders tour the building, taking in the home.

Fingers were crossed.

In fact, Michael had plans of a giant tree in the foyer, welcoming them all. When he and Graham had been in the military, there was no money for that, but now…

He was going to give his husband a holiday he’d never forget.

EVER.

There was going to be snow, and romantic horseback rides with a hay wagon carrying Christmas carolers, but first, they had to get through Halloween and a wedding.

That was the priority for now, but as soon as it was time to deck the halls, Michael was doing it up like no one had ever seen before.

Trust and believe.

As they sat down, getting ready to eat breakfast on what they believed would be a run-of-the-mill morning, Michael was lecherously checking out his husband’s ass as he was cooking for them.

Yeah, he should have known it was too easy a morning and that a storm would be brewing shortly. It was all too perfect.

Truth be told, the shit hit the fan when you least expected it to happen.

Still, for him, he was happy.

Yeah, it was a good day in his world.

What they had…

There was nothing as powerful as love, and he’d learned that.

Love was the foundation to happiness.

When he’d left working for Archangel Security, he really believed that he’d miss it, but that wasn’t the case.

Luckily for him, again, love mattered, and he’d been given the role of a lifetime as co-caretaker of Ravensmire.

Now, he’d just begun working for the Blackhawks in another capacity.

He was guarding another body—his husband’s, as they babysat a very old castle.

That he and his husband were caretakers together was a pretty sweet gig. In life, you rarely got lucky like this, not once, but twice.

Yeah, that made him smile like a lunatic, he was sure.

“I can feel you staring at me, Laddie,” Graham stated in amusement.

Oh, well, of course, he was.

He wasn’t an idiot.

So, Michael laughed.

“Well, in my defense, you’re IN FRONT of me, and that’s the way my head points naturally. Also, this morning before coffee was pretty spectacular, Mr. Graves. I’m reminiscing about the show you put on in our bed.”

That was NOT an exaggeration.

At his very lecherous commentary, Graham laughed and turned. As he did, there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and he understood that sentiment.

It had been deliciously wicked.

Maybe wicked wasn’t a good enough word. It had been filled with heat, passion, and all the things that got a man going, and kept him going.

Oh, and they’d still be in bed if they didn’t have animals to tend. They’d just taken on two more horses, and they not only had to be ridden, but fed.

Hamlet and MacBeth were feisty when they didn’t get their food. Then, they got Romeo and Juliet all worked up. So, sexy husband time had to wait.

“You don’t say?” he asked, leaning against the counter with a spatula in his hand. “If you think that was a show…wait until later, Laddie. I’m going to give you more than a show. Thank God the walls can’t talk.”

That made him all giddy.

His new husband was all about driving him all kinds of wild, and Michael was there for it.

All.

Of.

It.

Getting up, Michael couldn’t help himself, so he headed his way. When he pulled Graham into his arms, he found his mouth and kissed him like the world was burning, and they were having their final moments together.

Immediately, Graham melted into him.

Yeah, it was that damn spectacular.

They might call him Saint Michael of the Blackhawks, but he was a sinner when it came to certain things.

GRAHAM.

As he kissed him, that heat overwhelmed both men.

And Michael knew one thing.

They would be continuing this after they ate.

Trust and believe that as soon as the food was consumed, they would be going BACK to bed.

Hastily.

It wasn’t like they had anything planned today, once all of the chores were done. It was chilly out, and Graham knew how to get warmed up fast.

This was a good start too.

Already, his erection was showing up, and ready for anything his wickedly wild husband could share with him.

When Graham cupped him through his jeans, Michael moaned.

As the kiss was broken, Graham stared up into his husband’s blue eyes and saw the intent.

Someone else was ALSO thinking the same thing. Today was going to be all about staying in bed.

NAKED.

Well, sign him up.

There was no better way to spend the day in Graham’s humble opinion. Beneath his randy Marine was definitely where he desperately needed to be.

With his hand on his dick, now, Michael wasn’t interested in eating breakfast.

But he’d be a gentleman.

Never let it be said he wasn’t.

“You have two choices,” Michael offered, his lips very close to his man’s ear. “We eat and go to bed, or we go to bed and eat. It seems that I need more of you on your knees this morning, Mr. Graves. I’ll allow you the opportunity to decide which order the fucking will happen.”

When he bit him on the neck, Graham got goosebumps all over his body. That deep, whiskey-warm tone of his voice, tinged with pure, masculine desperation, made his whole being tingle with anticipation of what was to come.

HIM.

“D’Artangnan,” he whispered, as the man drove him absolutely wild.

Oh, when his real name came out, Michael knew what he was thinking about. Mostly, anymore, Graham called him by his Archangel name—the name he took when he left him seven years ago—but when he wanted to be bedded down, and given one hell of a ride, he went old-school.