Burn for Me (Edanholme Book 1) Read online

  This witch in human guise appeared cold and distant, a parody of what it meant to be Fae.

  Bunching the towel in his lap Drusal slid closer to Cat’s naked legs, intrigued and offended

  at the same time.

  “And… Why do you use but one word?” He leaned forward snaking out one hand to touch

  her flesh, to bring this witch under his control once and for all. The hair brush snapped against

  his knuckles with a loud crack.

  “Because I want more information… A simple declaration that the Queen has willed this so,

  means nothing to me. I am not hers to command. My life is mine to do with as I choose. And…

  I do not choose you Fur ball.” The scathing laugh that followed her denial of him set Drusal’s

  teeth on edge.

  “Go wiggle your amazing butt at the women of the Court. I’m sure it will be more appreciated.”

  Cat was furious that this woman who professed to be her Grandmother, could actually believe

  she would volunteer without question to becoming a sex slave on command.

  “Enough Lord Vardon…. What my Grandmother wants is immaterial to me. I have been a slave

  to lust. Believe me, it will never happen again.” The pain of recent betrayal blazed in her eyes,

  a pure emerald green that lashed at Drusal with an intensity of denial that pounded in his skull,

  a hammer blow that left him gasping at the pain. With a fine sense of self-preservation he

  changed tactics, to play on female pity.

  “There are no females at Court other than the Queen.” Eyes downcast he plucked at the pale

  yellow silk covering the duvet. “The Queen takes what she wants, with whom she wants, when

  ever she wants.” Not me, he thought furiously. I have fought too long for her to enslave me to

  one of her ilk. Running a hand through a coppery mass of curls Drusal continued to speak to

  the duvet, hoping the information he offered would win him some sympathy.

  “That is so sick…” Jumping from the bed, Cat backed up to the open window, leaning on the

  wide sill she drew in deep lungs full of pure fresh air.

  The image of an old woman taking man after man to her bed was just so wrong. But, then

  again Shayla was also her Grandmother, a being of incredible beauty, stunningly alive and

  vibrantly vital. Queen Grandmother would be equally endowed wouldn’t she?

  “How old is my Grandmother? My God… How old are you?” She managed to gasp out as

  nausea churned in her stomach, turning away from Drusal’s intensely unnerving stare.

  Wrapping the bath sheet round his waist the Lord Vardon came up behind Cat, pleased to

  note she was as tall as a female of the Sidhe should be. Cautiously he inched nearer, fingers

  stretched out to touch her flesh. He found himself curious about the witch. One touch alone

  should be enough to elicit her Achilles heel, one touch to soften the arrogant defiance of this

  uncontrolled Sidhe hybrid.

  “The Fae are timeless Iscatya. I have known your kin for over a hundred years.” His murmur

  drifted over her shoulder, a warm wash of balmy earth.

  “You are but an infant in comparison.”

  An angry growl erupted from Cat’s throat as she hunched over, gripping at a rebellious

  stomach. “How can I hope to resist a timeless force, a mad woman who rules all the Sidhe

  of the Sovereign Isles? A woman who controls you…” Swinging round she was intimidated

  by his proximity, fearful of her own desires to touch and taste magnificence.

  “Back off Fur ball…” Looking up into pearlescent eyes her heart lurched, thudding hard

  against her ribs. He was so much taller than her and ridiculously kissable. Licking at lips

  suddenly dry, Cat made a move to step past Drusal’s muscular bulk, saying a silent, grateful

  thanks for the towel at his waist.

  The tips of his fingers on her upper arm stopped Cat in her tracks, pupils dilating as a wave

  of screaming craving rocked her against his chest. The sweet smell of newly cut grass

  engulfed her, warmth spread through her body gathering in a tight knot in her lower belly.

  The sensual caress of silken fingers running over her shoulder, sliding under the weight of

  damp hair to come to rest on the nape of neck made her shiver in the throes of an intensely

  erotic arousal.

  “I have not touched a female in over a hundred years.” Snaking an arm round a slim waist

  Drusal drew her closer, moulding a tantalising form to his body. A soft sigh of defeat was

  his reward for persistence.

  “Iscatya…” He breathed against her skin, tasting luscious fruits spiced with an icy chill.

  “You will be mine.” Head bent slightly he took her mouth in a stealth assault, gently nibbling

  to force Cat’s lips apart to deepen the kiss. With a moan she surrendered to his taste, a

  searching tongue. He was intoxicated by her mouth, the feel of yielding curves beneath his

  hands. Eyes closed in an attempt to ignore a human visage, Drusal held more in his arms

  than the physical form portrayed. He had found the essence of true female, a heady

  maelstrom that sought to overwhelm his resolve to destroy a seemingly, innocent female.

  Fighting to keep a portion of his mind free of the magic that roiled between them, Drusal

  lifted Cat into his arms, feeling no resistance in the limpness of her limbs. Laying his prize on

  the duvet he nestled between her thighs, inhaling the unmistakable scent of female arousal.

  Cat was lost in a world of wanton desire. He had brought her to the nerve jangling edge of

  complete surrender. A growl rumbled in a wide chest as he hardened, pushing his length

  against a taut belly. What he was doing was wrong, in so many contexts of the word, but the

  abuse that had been heaped on him had to be paid back. A delicate face was slack, hazel eyes

  devoid of awareness as Sidhe glamour clouded her mind, dispelled any thought of denial.

  Leaning down to taste the fruits of a generous mouth, gentle hands explored the firm body

  trapped beneath him.

  Cat shivered under the caresses that covered her skin. Loved the feel of strong hands

  cupping the tender skin of her breasts, gasped aloud as exploring fingers ran over her

  stomach, under the waistband of flimsy shorts. Her body writhed to meet the hardness of

  her lover, fingers wrapped around his length she wanted him to finish what he had started.

  A deep growl filtered through the fog of glamour. The man in her hand pulsed under the

  pressure of stroking fingers, straining to reach her core, to consume her with cold hunger.

  Iscatya screamed in her head. Stop… Stop this now idiot.

  Both her hands moved, left the silky texture of vibrant manhood to plant fingernails deep

  into the muscles of his chest. Cat surged off the bed, hair flying from her head in writhing

  tendrils to lock onto Drusal’s wrists.

  Reaching out with her mind she searched for something, anything to shut down his control

  over her free will. Fur ball was using the power of Mother Earth to seduce her. Locking onto

  a poisonous version of an antidote, Iscatya drove the vicious mix into his body. Within seconds

  he was a dead weight plastered across her body, his skin smelt of sulphur, an icy chill wreathed

  a mighty warrior in an airless pall.

  Cat screamed uselessly… She was trapped and he wasn’t breathing. Tears streaming down her

  cheeks, she knew without a doubt, Jarl would class this as bad manners. A first class faux pas…

  Sod that, D
rusal had stolen her will. Had tried to….

  She couldn’t go there. The memories of all Phillipe had done to her were too raw. Stop, think…

  She breathed raggedly under the crushing weight of an outwardly lifeless body.

  Drusal had spoken directly into her mind twice. Could she do the same? Now was the time to

  find out. Shayla…

  CHAPTER THREE

  Putting every ounce of strength into the mental communication, Cat sagged further into

  the bed. Don’t shout child. Learn moderation. Shayla answered quickly.

  Sobbing uncontrollably Cat framed the next message to her Grandma. How did she bluntly

  confess, to cold bloodedly killing a Sidhe Warrior? Grandma… Her mental voice quavered.

  I think I’ve killed Drusal.

  Good… A satisfied chortle rattled Cat’s hard won calm.

  I’m serious Shayla... She felt moderately calm, nearly in full control of mind and body.

  What? The shout seared Cat’s brain, her temples throbbed. Where are you Cat?

  Shayla’s calm composure and facetious denial of the truth was shattered.

  In my bedroom… The answer was sheepish, Cat squirmed at the stupidity of falling for the

  lost puppy act. A vision of Shayla’s shocked face swam in front of her eyes.

  That explains why you tried to kill him, but not how. A soft chuckle eased the tension in

  Cat’s neck and shoulders. He isn’t dead child. Well he shouldn’t be...

  Now Shayla sounded hesitant. What did you do? The whisper wrapped around Cat’s heart

  and squeezed tight. Grandma should be supporting her, not sounding so afraid of what Cat

  had done to protect her life, her body, from a soulless soldier of the Sidhe.

  I attacked his earth element with poisonous fumes and frigid cold. She apologised quietly,

  in abject dejection, to her Grandma.

  Oh… That was pretty nasty my pet. A heavy sigh resounded in Cat’s head.

  Did he deserve to be immobilised so brutally? The chiding reminded her of all the times she

  had tugged too hard on Udg’s tail, never realising she was hurting her Grandfather.

  Ummm… Cat dithered for a moment. Yes… And that’s all I’m going to say.

  She blushed rosily at the knowing laugh from Shayla. Tried his tricks on you did he?

  Grandma, just stop now. This is not helping me. Cat begged.

  Sorry pet. I remember Drusal and his prowess in all forms of sport, from happier times.

  Ughhh… I really do not want to know. Slowly, Cat was inching from under a stone cold body.

  Tell me how I can reverse the effects of my resistance?

  Oh nicely put… Vicious assault on one of the Queens enforcers is a mandatory death sentence.

  Were you aware of that? Shayla laughed softly, enjoying every minute of Cat’s discomfort.

  Great… Thanks… Please be serious, I really need your help here. Her tone had taken on a steely

  edge, ice coated every syllable with the bitter cold of frigid wastes.

  Tell me how to revive him? So I can kick his butt all the way back to Withins Underhill.

  Cat his butt has been well and truly kicked. Drusal is no longer a threat to you physically.

  A happy laugh reverberated in Cat’s mind. His charm is something else entirely…

  No help there Grandma… She hissed frantically, finally emerging at the edge of the bed.

  Sorry, I was savouring the unusual vision of Drusal powerless, in a bed.

  Shayla’s girly giggle shocked Cat out of a pit of remorse. You haven’t? Ewhh… Way too much

  information to digest, when all she wanted was for him to breathe again.

  No… But I have heard the stories. Shayla sounded wistful.

  Cat shivered, his touch had been electric. If she hadn’t been able to call upon resources

  buried deep in her psyche, she would be mated to a man she didn’t know, or trust as far as

  she could throw him.

  Believe them Grandma… Now if it’s not too much trouble, help me, please. Sitting at the

  foot of the bed she gazed down at the prostrate man, Fae, Fur ball.

  Give back, whatever you took from him. The enigmatic reply from a fully-fledged Sidhe

  female floored her.

  What does that even mean? Shaking her head, Cat wished Shayla was here physically to

  offer some tangible form of assistance.

  Tell me the structure of your spell? The Grandmother in her voice wanted an answer.

  OK… I think I can do that. Taking a deep breath Cat hoped the apology in her head was

  evident in her explanation. I used Venus and Mars.

  From Mythology…? Shayla sounded perplexed.

  No, as in the planets… I took the volcanic poisons of Venus’s atmosphere and the frigid cold

  of Mars and pumped it all into his body. Gritting her teeth, hand wandering in Drusal’s

  direction she waited for the blistering scold that came her way every once in a while.

  You did what…? Shayla whispered in a hoarse mental croak.

  I think you heard me Grandma. Cat whispered back.

  That’s not possible…. Fear reverberated in Shayla’s words, a deep seated terror of the gifts

  and talents lavished on a child born to her only son.

  I’m not lying to you…. I just wanted him off me. Cat sobbed, close to hysteria.

  If the Queen finds out how powerful you are, there will be war. Shuddering at Shayla’s

  frightened awe, she curled up on the floor, tears flowing copiously.

  I don’t want this Grandma. Can’t you hide me again? She gulped back a sob.

  No my pet, you are more than capable of defending yourself. The satisfaction in Shayla’s

  tone filled Cat with dread.

  Now to immediate business, Lord Vardon has to be revived. All sharp authority, Grandma

  offered up a solution to the dead man in her bed.Feed his element, feed the Earth in him.

  Cat my pet, keep his body warm. Shayla’s advice trailed off in an incredibly dirty laugh.

  That’s it…? Cat screamed back.

  Ouch… Keep the volume down. I cannot undo a spell that is not my own. Tis a harsh learning

  curve Iscatya Edan-Fire, one to be learned quickly if you want to survive in the Sovereign Court.

  Shayla chastised her hotly.

  I am not going anywhere near the Court. Her denial scorched the ether.

  Not yet pet. But you will to regain that which belongs to you. On an enigmatic utterance the

  connection snapped shut. Cat was bewildered, no make that screamingly frustrated.

  How the hell did she bring the earth element to Drusal? Tipping him out of the bedroom onto

  the lawn seemed like a better plan. Only he was too big for her to even consider moving him.

  Her eyes lingered on the indentation of his spine, running over a butt that was as firm and

  smooth as a baby’s. She knew how to keep him warm, no problem with that. The thought

  of wrapping her body round his made her shiver, a tingle of desire scorched her lower belly.

  Don’t be an idiot she chided herself, you just wiped out his life essence, seduction is not going

  to be uppermost on his mind when he wakes up, if he wakes up.

  Flowers…. Cat was inspired. Tearing from the bedroom she grabbed the wild flowers hanging

  limply on the edge of the hall table. It never occurred to her to use the same method to revive

  him, as she’d employed to disable a predator. Sitting on the duvet she tore the petals from

  each flower, crushing separate petals between her fingers Cat smeared the residue over the

  male’s skin. Intent on her ministrations having managed to roll him onto his back, longing

  eyes lingered over the smooth muscles of his abdomen. There wasn’t
a spare ounce of flesh

  on a gorgeous specimen of Sidhe angst.

  Satin skin slid erotically beneath her finger tips, smeared liberally with the crimson stain of

  wild poppies. A deep ragged breath broke the silence. He was coming back, smooth chest

  straining as his lungs fought to take in more air. A silent tear of thanks slid down her cheek.

  The flesh beneath her hand took on a translucent glow, shimmering grassy green and earthy.

  Crushing the remainder of the flowers she tucked them under his back, sliding beneath the

  summer weight duvet.

  This man was dangerous to her health and freedom, but she owed him for the attack on his

  innate essence. Wrapping arms and legs in a position to offer the most warmth Cat pulled the

  duvet over them both. God this was so stupid. Thermal packs would have done the same job.

  Problem was she didn’t have any thermal packs handy. Hand resting on an immense chest,

  she settled her head into the inviting curve of Drusal’s shoulder listening for the beat of his

  heart to fall into the basic rhythm of life. Once the throb was established into a less chaotic

  beat she closed her eyes, inhaling the fragrance of his skin. Warm sun on sweet meadows

  eased the tension in her shoulders. Tomorrow she would deal with the aftermath of an

  assault on a Sidhe noble. No doubt he would be furious. Too bad, she had the means to

  subdue unhealthy leanings, could make him suffer all over again if need be.

  A dreamy smile curved her lips. She wished she had met Drusal back when he was less

  forbidding, more the male Shayla remembered. Mentally exhausted, welcome sleep took

  her to a realm where Sidhe females flocked around a monumental figure. Jealousy tinged

  the wish to be well rid of him.

  Drusal woke slowly, his sense of smell noted hints of wild verbena, poppies and a faint trace

  of sulphur in the air. Flexing aching muscles he stilled abruptly, a warm weight lay across his

  chest. Silken hair draping his arms and chest, confirmed he had slept with a soft female.

  His memory was hazy. Confusion creased the perfection of his brow as he slowly lifted heavy