Chapter Eleven
Morgan
Nevis asks no questions as we hurry down the hall. The dark hole in the pit of my stomach expands as we get further away from the Morrigan.
“What was that?” I ask in a shaky voice that matches the tremor in my hands. “I mean, I know. I’ve felt it before but from far away. But up close…”
She leans in, clasps my hands and whispers, “The Darkness in the Queen is unmatchable. It’s one of the reasons she needs to bond with you. Her body is wearing down, the power is taking a toll and unlike you, she doesn’t have a harem of extraordinary beings to help balance her.”
I don’t tell her what I’m thinking. How my body already craves another hit of that raw power. I feel the tickle in the back of my throat and the twitch on my skin. We reach Bunny’s door and she knocks, though I’m impatient and desperate enough that I would’ve barged right in.
There’s movement behind the door and I tap my feet. Unable to wait a moment longer, I push past Nevis and fling open the door, just in time to find Bunny covering a painting attached to the wall with his one good hand.
“Morgan?” He wipes his hands on his paint-stained clothing. Looking me over, he frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Leave,” I direct Nevis. The words come out harsh, like my frayed nerves. “Wait outside, please.”
“Of course,” she replies and walks out the door. I close it behind her and twist the lock.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, but it’s clear he senses whatever is happening to me since the Morrigan shared her power.
“I need you, Bunny. If I’m going to make it through the next two days, I’m going to need your help.”
“I’ve been waiting for your arrival,” he says. “I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
I don’t want to hear his words right now. I need to feel the heat of his body next to me. I need his yin to my yang, the white to my black before whatever the Morrigan infected me with consumes me whole.
I step forward but he holds up his hands. “Wait. I don’t know what this is but I definitely smell her on you.” He walks to his work table and grabs a paintbrush and dips it in a jar of paint. He goes to the door and from memory, paints a large symbol on the wood in black.
“What is that?”
“A symbol that will cloak our energy. The one we create when we’re together. She’s highly sensitive to it and if she knows you’re here…”
“Thank you,” I say, feeling a wave of dark nausea roll through me. “I don’t have a lot of time, Bunny.”
He comes to me quickly, good hand clenched around my waist, holding me up. I feel the shift almost instantly. The balance. What brought me to these men in the first place. His beautiful face is close to mine, his soft lips, his conflicted eyes. He won’t kiss me first. He’s waiting for permission. An order. That’s how much things have changed between us.
Another surge of darkness rocks me and I can’t wait another moment. I press my lips to his, opening my mouth and drawing his tongue inside. A counter wave rolls over me. Goodness and light—I can’t deny that is Bunny’s core. He isn’t evil. I’ve tasted that.
His hand does not move, although his fingers dig into my sides. I feel his hardness when he brushes against me. I feel his desire thudding in his chest. His lips move from my mouth down the column of my neck, edging across the expanse of my chest. My nipples harden and painfully point. My belly twists with a different, more carnal need.
This isn’t the lost soul I’ve battled with. Bunny is strong. He’s competent. He fulfills his duty like a soldier on a mission. My hands fall limp as he sucks at my neck, lathing my skin with his tongue.
Bit by bit, the Morrigan’s darkness drains from me and when I’m seconds from crawling out of my skin with want, Bunny stops, withdrawing his mouth and blowing on the spot he’d focused on so intently.
“Don’t move,” he commands, leaving me and then returning with a small pot and an ultra-thin paintbrush. I recognize the gold shimmer of paint. It’s the one he coated my body with at The Nead. With a steady hand, he quickly works over the heated mark. Standing back, he eyes his work with satisfaction.
“What is it?”
He holds up a mirror and although the paint is already fading, as well as the red of my skin, I spot the Raven Guard’s symbol. “She thinks she can have you, Morgan, but you’re already taken. That mark is just another bind to tie you to me.”
A mixture of gratefulness and fear rises in me. It’s the fear that speaks. “And what if I don’t want to be bound to you anymore? What if I kill you like the Morrigan suggests?”
Bunny pushes his glasses up his nose, but any sign of the unsure Guardian is gone. There’s no one here to back him up. He is the leader of my guard in this world. My only protector, and I realize now how much of this he planned—not to hurt me—but to end this with the Morrigan once and for all.
He gazes at my body, the one that just betrayed me so quickly and would have done anything to be closer to him. “I know I hurt you. I know the others want to skin me alive. But we’re in this together and sometimes a sacrifice has to be made. Look at the Morrigan, sweetheart. Do you not see how her court will do anything for her? Xavier gave his life. Anita will give hers, and if you push me away, she’ll take you, too. Everything about this world is a sacrifice. I’m just the only one willing to admit it.”
“So you’re saying all of this was for me. The mind-games and torture in the dungeons? Dividing everyone?” I shake my head, still unable to forgive like Nevis wants me to. “I think you just like pain, Bunny. You like taking it from me and inflicting it on yourself and everyone in your life.”
His jaw tenses. “You’re wrong. Open your eyes, Morgan. This is war, it isn’t pretty and it sure as hell isn’t without regret.”
I hate the fact I taste him on my mouth. That I need him so desperately to survive the next few days. But I remember the wounds on Clinton’s back. The way Sam’s eyes were clouded and close to death. For them, I will work with Bunny, and for them, I will keep him at arm’s length.
“Come back when you need me. I’ll be here,” he says as I spin on my heel and head to the door. Nevis waits on the other side; whatever she hoped would transpire in the studio falls from her face the instant she sees us.
I catch a glimpse of Bunny’s face as I start down the stairs. I expect to see anger or even a little bit of hate, but I don’t. I only see resolve and the smallest quirk on his lips. I throw a vulgar gesture his way and head back to my rooms.