Midnight End

18

7 What the hell had happened back there? The sinking dirt pit hadn’t been all that shocking—that kind of crazy s**t happened all the time in Faery. It was my moment with Morgan that had taken me by surprise. When I pulled her from the ground, she had looked at me like I was her f*****g savior—like I had hung the stars in the sky just for her. It made the beast in me roar with pleasure, putting me even more at odds with myself. f**k. If my wolf could have purred when I held Morgan in my arms, it would have. At that moment, with her head cradled against my chest and her shaking body wrapped in my arms, she gave me a glimpse of the vulnerable woman under the bravado. It was a good thing we were alone in the woods because had someone approached us, I wasn’t entirely sure I wouldn’t have killed them. Like an injured animal, I had been reduced to my most basic nature—protect at all costs. My wolf took control and howled its claim of possession. My logical side knew Morgan was a hot mess, and I wanted no part of that. The trick was explaining that to my animalistic side—it had a mind of its own. I did everything I could to shrug off the overwhelming urge to club Morgan over the head and drag her back to my cave. I had just met the woman, and what I had heard about her was less than flattering. So far, I hadn’t personally witnessed any outrageous behavior, but her track record was proven. Her claim that she hadn’t known Ronan was a homicidal lunatic was intriguing. I had detected an element of shock and dismay over what he had done. It had seemed sincere, but I wasn’t about to believe her so easily. As for her claims about Guin, though they weren’t complementary, if true, they still weren’t enough to make the Seelie monarch ‘evil’. It was like Morgan had started with a seed of logic but watered it with pure emotion until it had morphed into a grotesque creation of her own imagination. She had spent her whole life demonizing Guin for the loss of her lover. How many people’s sons, daughters, mothers, and brothers had lost their lives because of Morgan’s vendetta? She talked about other people not owning their actions, but she didn’t take responsibility for her own behavior. Hypocrisy much? At least she could admit she wasn’t perfect, but nothing else she said made any sense. She was probably just as crazy as the stories implied, which meant I was a raving lunatic for following after her. I had felt a magnetic pull to her since the moment I had transformed and she had scurried away from me. However, that wasn’t enough to have me following her on a wild goose chase through the Seelie woods. The clencher was when she said she had been to Castle Corbenic. That’s when she had me. I had never heard of anyone else seeing the mythical castle. If she had been there once, would that help her chances of finding it again? How had she found it before? Had she seen the cauldron before? Was I a monumental fool for believing anything she said? Probably. She wasn’t the only one with inner demons. Mine begged and pleaded with me to give her a chance, regardless of how absurd it seemed. I was angry with myself for volunteering to join in her foolhardy quest and for allowing her to slink her way under my skin. For miles, I berated myself and questioned how I had allowed myself to get sucked into her madness. Neither of us said a word as we forged ahead, lost in our own tumultuous thoughts. Rain began to fall in sheets, soaking us through to the bone. The thick clouds brought darkness on early, so we made camp for the night when we came across a small cave. Not exactly a cave—a chunk of hillside carved out from erosion. There was enough of a hollow to protect us from the rain and a wall to our backs that would help keep us safe from the locals. We wordlessly gathered the few bits of dry wood we could find and started a small fire. I took off my shirt, wrung it out, and laid the drenched fabric along the inner wall of our sanctuary in the hopes that the fire might help it dry. There was so much moisture in the air, it was a longshot but worth a try. I hadn’t expected Morgan to follow suit. She pulled her heavy shirt over her head and situated it next to mine along the wall. I had to force my breathing to stay steady as my eyes drifted over to where she sat in a bright red bra, blithefully unaware of her effect on me. Her skin was so smooth and unblemished that it didn’t seem real, like she was made of porcelain and should be kept on a shelf for display. While her breasts were not overly large, they were perfectly cupped in the lingerie, giving them a round firmness that begged to be squeezed. I could imagine the way my tongue would feel as it lapped a path from her graceful neck down to each of those rosy peaks. What the f**k had I been thinking not getting laid before I went on this little adventure? Not only would it have been ideal to recharge my magic, but I might have been able to think with my head instead of my d**k. Yeah right. There was no way in hell I would have been able to sit across the fire from all that naked skin without wanting to taste it—whether I’d gotten off before the trip or not. Oblivious to the rising tent in my pants, Morgan rifled through her bag until she pulled out a flask and took a swig of its contents. Head back, her neck contracted as she swallowed several gulps, then licked the stray moisture from her lips. I wasn’t sure she could have been any more tempting if she had tried. “What do you have there?” I asked in a guttural baritone. Way to keep that one under wraps. She met my eyes, hers narrowing ever so slightly. “Faerie wine, would you like some?” she offered, extending the flask toward me. I took the cool metal and downed a generous portion of wine. The sweet drink was a welcome change, coating my throat and igniting an instant fire in my chest. Faerie wine was potent. The Fae didn’t d**k around with their intoxicating drinks, and Morgan’s wine had been especially well brewed. I could taste the swirl of several distinct fruit flavors along with the tang of picca fruit, which gave the wine its potency. I took one more swig before handing the flask back to Morgan. “You can’t imagine what it’s like seeing wine and other indulgences and not being able to enjoy them.” I said a small prayer, thanking the gods my voice had returned to normal.