Dreams of a Dark Warrior

FORTY-SEVEN

She can’t remain on the battlefront with me, Edward thought, his gaze following Regin as she paced his tent. Wending around his myriad weapons, she trailed her fingers over the waist jacket and crested helmet of his cavalry uniform.

Her lovely visage was drawn, her ethereal glow lighting the interior. Already his soldiers thought she was a witch who’d entranced him.

She couldn’t remain with him—and he couldn’t part from her. Which meant he’d be going into her world, he hoped as her husband. Yet the Valkyrie was proving … recalcitrant.

“You’re too young, Edward!”

“I’m twenty-five. Men my age marry.”

“Men your age usually don’t turn their backs on everything they know. Finish your tour on the peninsula, then go home to your London mansion. Marry a mortal girl who wears dresses and doesn’t have pointed ears. I will bring you nothing but tragedy.”

When she picked up his saddle blanket and saw his embroidered personal crest, her face grew stricken. “Two ravens in flight?” She gave a bitter laugh. “Edward, you must let me go. You have to forget about me.”

He cast her a rueful smile. “What makes you believe I could possibly do either?” She didn’t understand the depths of his feelings, could never be made to. He stood, crossing to her—even moments without touching her proved too long to endure. He rested his hands on her slim shoulders, wanting so badly to kiss her, but she forbade it.

For how much longer can I deny myself a taste?

“Regin, it will always be you. This curse can’t be stronger than what I feel for you.”

“That’s exactly what Gabriel said. On the day he died.”

“It’s just coincidence, love. All of it. Aidan fought vampires his entire life. Is it a surprise that, in the end, he was murdered by one? Treves had repeatedly angered his king—a coward who had him poisoned. And Gabriel? My God, Regin, how many pirates died in shipwrecks?”

“You’re forgetting one thing—the timing. All of these deaths happened within hours of them bedding me. I’m your curse! Why can’t you accept that … ?”

Declan shot awake, eyes darting as he took in the murky morning. Not in a tent? For a moment, he couldn’t place where he was.

Then he spied Regin. She was up, getting dressed, glowing like the sun in the persistent rain.

She tilted her head at him. Under her gaze, he resisted the nearly overwhelming urge to throw on his clothes. Still new to me.

But she gave his scars little attention, and he relaxed, musing about how she’d slept curled against him. Just as protecting her had fulfilled him, so had merely holding her.

Fulfilled. Such an alien feeling, he’d scarcely known how to label it.

The rightness of her in his arms alleviated his lingering withdrawals, gave him something infinitely more pleasurable than the shots had ever provided. …

Just as he contemplated dragging her back down with him, she said, “We need to get back.”

“Aye, I know, then,” he muttered, rising to don his pants. Regin watched him unabashed, and again he thought she might just be liking what she saw.

But when he dragged on his pullover, they both frowned. His clothes were tight.

“Aren’t you supposed to … go back down? Muscle-wise?”

“But I didn’t hit a berserkrage. Maybe it’s because I’m clean of drugs?”

“Um, you shot up the day before yesterday.”

But a vampire sucked me dry. He shrugged.

“Were you dreaming just before you woke?” she asked, shivering with cold.

“Here, lass.” He crossed the distance to her, yanking off his sweater. “The material stays dry, it’ll keep you warm. Arms up, then.”

With a roll of her eyes, she lifted her arms so he could tug it down over her. It nearly reached her knees. He took the opportunity to clasp her against his chest, resting his chin on her head. “You will no’ put your arms around me?”

“I don’t want to encourage you. Now, answer my question.”

“I dreamed of you and Edward in his tent, discussing the curse. He felt the same way about it as I do now—that it’s bullshite.”

She pushed against him until he released her. “Edward died the next day.”

“How?”

“A sniper fired on his troops. He pushed me out of the path of a bullet. The back of his head was just … gone. A mortal sacrificed his life over an injury that would’ve taken me a day to recover from. I’ve been as good as widowed four times. And with this lifetime, you’ve been doomed for five.”

“If last night was my doom, Regin, then you can sign me up for a hundred more go-rounds.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Don’t you dare ridicule me or this … this situation! I nearly lost my mind with each death. Aidan bled out in our bed. I held Treves as he yelled in anguish from poison. My pirate? My beautiful Gabriel? A violent storm bashed his ship apart. A falling mast crushed him, killing him instantly. His body was swept overboard, and I-I couldn’t find him … c-couldn’t bring him back.”

“Damn it, lass, this curse will no’ affect you and me.”

“With everything you’ve seen in the Lore, how can you doubt this?”

“I don’t doubt that curses exist—I’ve been cursed by a witch, and I remember how it felt. I’d sense something if a curse was hanging over me.” He brushed his knuckles down her silky cheek. Would he ever grow used to the luxury of simply touching her skin? “I do no’ know how to convince you of it, but I feel this in my gut. We’re beyond it.”

“Even if there were no curse, and even if I could forgive you for all you’ve done to me, I can’t get past what you’ve done to my friends. You’ve got a lot of fates on your head.”

“What if I get everyone in our crew off the island? Would you forgive me then?”

She shook her head. “That would still leave Carrow, Ruby, and MacRieve. And Lucia must be alive and well. Every single one of them has been jeopardized by your actions.”

“How Lucia?”

“I’m supposed to be with her when she faces Cruach.”

“You know I’ve no control over her fate.”

“The stakes are steep for me, Chase. I could never forgive you if Lucia was forced to fight an enemy as vile as that by herself, because I was otherwise engaged. She’s everything to me.”

“Then you’ve laid out my tasks. I’ll take care of them one by one.”

Regin folded up the pullover’s lengthy sleeves. “How’s that?”

“I won’t be gettin’ on the boat with you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Regin, I’ll scour this island for all of your friends first.”

“You’ll get yourself killed, before the curse ever gets a chance to do it.”

“If the alternative is not having you, then so bloody well.” He shrugged. “But you forget, this is what I do. I hunt immortals. And this is my island. I’ll find them.”

“And Lucia?”

“She’s stayed alive this long. So I’m counting on her to live one thousand years and four weeks. If I can get everyone to safety, will you give us a shot?”

“What about the cur—”

“Don’t answer now,” he interrupted, his tone curt. That curse talk maddened him. He felt with a certainty deep down in his bones that he had a future with her. He’d be damned if they’d argue over something that he knew didn’t apply to them. “Just think about it.”

As Regin and Chase made their way back to meet the others, she studied him under her lashes.

Before, he’d been intriguing to her, attractive, even sexy. This morning, he was devastating.

His wet hair whipped over those lean cheeks. His camo pants clung to his sculpted legs and ass, until her claws curled painfully. Had his steely-eyed gaze always been so breathtaking?

Their activities last night had certainly agreed with the man. Chase seemed to have grown overnight—and shed a couple of decades’ worth of tension. The stiffness in his back and neck was absent. Now that his lips weren’t pressed into a grim line, she could see his even, white teeth, making her fantasize about what his smile would look like.

She doubted even Chase knew. The man didn’t have a single laugh line anywhere on his face, not even a hint of one.

As they neared the others, she asked, “Don’t you want your sweater?”

His expression darkened. “Do you want me to wear it?”

She frowned. “I don’t care either way.”

He smoothed a braid from her face. “Then I’d rather it keep you warm.”

When they rejoined the group, almost as one, their gazes locked on his bare, scarred chest.

Brandr looked troubled but sympathetic. Thad gaped, while Natalya winced. Lothaire didn’t bother hiding his derision.

Chase jammed his shoulders back, chin raised, and her heart gave a pang. Beautiful Aidan had never had to back down before anyone, had never been embarrassed a day in his life.

But maybe Chase deserved this scrutiny and more from the people he’d hurt. Walk away from him. Let him feel this alone.

Yet her hand decided to reach for Chase’s, and her stupid fingers felt the need to lace with his.

The look he gave her as he tightened his grasp was one she’d never seen from him before.

Tenderness.

Brandr broke the silence. “Come on, then, let’s get moving. We need to cover a lot of ground today.”

As the others set off, she tried to make light of the situation. Because Chase was clutching her hand—like a lifeline. “Did the big bad Blademan just have a funny feeling in his chest?”

His gaze pinned hers, and he rasped one word. “Aye.”