Velvet Haven

her skin. It was no surprise that in his fantasy it had been raining; water was his favorite element. What he hadn’t known was how damn perfect Mairi would look in his grove, splayed on his altar. She’d been regal as a queen—his queen. The feelings the thought evoked frightened him, still frightened him, he reminded himself. There was no place for Mairi in Annwyn, and no place for him in her world.
    Still, considering they were two souls destined to live apart, she was incredibly bewitching and powerful. Watching her bring herself to orgasm in the shower had provided enough energy to fuel his magic. It had never been that way before. Watching had never been enough. It had taken hours and hours of sexual intercourse to gain what he needed. But with Mairi, it was different. His curse was not acting as it usually did.
    More reason to fear, to escape.
    Nothing was clear. Everything about her was shrouded in mystery. His thoughts were no longer focused. She was dangerous to him, held an unnatural hold over him. A hold he must sever if he was to go forward and find Carden and put an end to the dark magick before it overtook Annwyn. A hold that could very well be his undoing.
    His brother and the Dark Mage. That had been his purpose for coming to Velvet Haven and lurking amongst the mortals. It had not been to forge a relationship with a human. A beautiful, lovely human he could no longer deny he wanted to bring back with him to Annwyn.
    Sitting on the end of her bed, he watched her sleep, memorizing the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way the air passed through her lips that he wanted to kiss. Just thinking about what he’d seen in the shower made him hot. Christ, he wanted her. Even more than last night in Velvet Haven when he had yearned to penetrate her, to feel her body hungrily grasp him. He had wanted more than a magical connection with her. Still wanted it.
    Their shared fantasy had been enough to fill him magically, but physically it had been a tease. His mind was satiated, while his body still hungered.
    The connection they shared was unique. To be able to enter her dreams was a new experience for him. To know that they had been dreaming about each other for weeks now was at once arousing yet unnerving. Because even though he wanted her, he knew what she was. His murderer.
    Reaching out, he trailed his fingers along her silken cheek. She’d brought him home, protected him, healed him, and in the process she had softened a place inside him, making it her own.
    She’s a mortal, he reminded himself. Not to be trusted. She was, most likely, the human who was prophesized would kill him. He should be slaying her now, in her bed, letting her blood spill out onto the sheets, never to awaken again—never able to destroy him.
    In his heart he knew she was the woman in the death prophecy. His nemesis. His murderer. Yet as he looked at her he could not fathom Mairi taking a blade to him. She was too kind, too sweet to take a life, whether mortal or immortal.
    As he watched her sleep, he knew he should be deciding on a plan to thwart her attempt. An attempt that would soon come. Why? How? The questions burned in his mind. But when he touched her cheek, they dissolved like mist. He knew then he didn’t want the answers. He was bigger and stronger than she was. When—if—she came to him, he could fight off an attack. There was no reason to end her life now. She had saved his life.
    And how would he repay her? Slay her while she was asleep to prevent a future event that might never take place? He couldn’t. It went against everything he was. He was honorable. He did not kill his enemies in their sleep like a coward. He did not kill women.
    He closed his eyes and prayed to the gods of his world to please not let it be Mairi who had been created to fulfill the spell that Morgan had cast against him.
    Beside her, Clancy slept, and he rubbed the dog behind his ears.
    “Take care of her,” he ordered.
    He hated leaving her, especially this way, but he knew if he stayed, he’d risk his very life for a chance to feel her body against his. His body inside hers. She was too much temptation, a weakness in his armor. He had much to think of, and he couldn’t do that when she was close to him.
    Sighing, she curled into him, snuggling up against his hand. She looked soft and vulnerable. It would be so easy to roll her onto her back and lie down on her, kissing her awake. But Bran knew that it was time for him to