Wild Darkness

brothers.

“Faine’s place happens to be our place. He’s just poking at you. Come on back. I’ll grill some steaks and we can relax. I’d like to spend time with you and my brother for a change.” Simon gave her a little bow and she knew she was giving in before she did it.

* * *

“SO while Lark has Helena cornered off in your room, interrogating her, let me do a little interrogation of my own. What’s going on?”

Faine stood on his brother’s deck, looking out over all the wildness just beyond. He breathed deep of the trees and earth. “It’s good here.”

Simon grunted. “There’s plenty of acreage just up the road for you to build your own house. But I figure you’ll be settling in Los Angeles at this point. How long has this been going on between you and Helena?”

Faine blew out a breath. He’d been holding all this inside for some time and it felt good to finally be able to talk about it with someone who’d understand. “I’ve been attracted to her for some time. Months now. Probably since the first time I laid eyes on her. Until today it was just kisses.” He pushed away from the rail he’d been leaning against, pacing. “She could have died. It just hit me and then I saw her in an exposed moment. Emotionally, I mean. It was . . . I couldn’t resist any longer and I realized it was stupid to have resisted as long as I have. I don’t know, at first I felt like perhaps I should have waited, talked it all over with her before we had sex.”

Grabbing his glass, he turned to face Simon, letting the smoke of the scotch dance over his senses.

The scent of the meat rose as Simon put the steaks on the grill. “She’s a big girl, as Lark is so fond of saying. She knows what we are. Her sister is my Ne’est, after all. Helena knows what she wants. If she hadn’t been interested and hadn’t wanted you, she would have punched you in the head and kicked you out of her room.”

Faine guffawed. “They’re a lot alike, I imagine. You appear to be unharmed so you must be doing something right.”

Simon growled. “Infuriating, these Jaansen females. They’ve got a penchant for placing themselves between danger and their people. Drives me nuts.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.” Faine understood it because he felt the same. The danger of what Helena did made him crazy, but he respected her path a great deal.

Simon snorted. “No. It’s an integral part of who she is. One of the reasons I love Lark so much. She’s a warrior. As Helena is a warrior.”

“As we are. But you and I are nearly seven-foot-tall males who share existence with a beast bearing razor sharp teeth and claws. We’ve been bred for what we are in ways they can’t be. They’re far more physically fragile.”

Simon gave one of his infuriatingly calm shoulder shrugs. “That’s all true. The fact that they’re warriors like we are makes it easier—rationally—to accept the danger they put themselves in. But the fact that I love Lark so deeply is always a challenge to ration. But I do and it’s who she is. There’s no way around that, and if I don’t accept it, we can’t be together. Let’s not avoid the fact that you’re not only Lycian.”

Faine blew out a breath. “Yes. She knows my mother is a demoness so it’s not as if it’s a secret. But when is it I’m supposed to bring up that the two halves of my being unite to make me cleave to the right female for life? Especially when she knows I was married at one time and I wasn’t bonded to Lydia?”

“You loved Lydia, yes. But she was human. And you and I both know there’s love and there’s forever love. You didn’t make it up. It simply is. Given that one of your siblings is bonded to her sister, I suppose it means our genetics seem to click with theirs. It’s not a surprise that you’d fall for her. She’s beautiful. Willful. Passionate and fiery about things. And she’s got a most excellent left hook.”

Faine snorted a laugh. “She does. And some other stuff she does, Krav Maga, that stuns me when she does it. She’s so fragile though, just beneath that tough exterior. It calls to me.”

Simon nodded. “And you want to protect her. You know by now that you can only do so much. The Jaansen women are not going to be managed. You have to be sneaky about it. And really? You have to accept the whole package. That means they come home bloody at least once a month. Though lately it’s more. I’m hoping it slows down at some point.”

Faine scrubbed hands over his face. “I want to take her to Lycia. Things are so busy just now it hasn’t been possible. But soon. I want to take her and explain everything.”

“She’s your Ne’est then?”

Lycians weren’t like werewolves in the sense that they didn’t have the same sort of fated mate bond with their partner. Most Lycians had plural marriages. Faine was born when his and Simon’s father had two other wives. Many married or had long-term partnerships. But they had long life spans and they loved and embraced that love. Sometimes it was short term. Sometimes it was longer term, sometimes it meant more than one spouse.

But for some, usually in ruling families, there were special bonds. A voluntary bond that united a couple together for their entire lives. Tila, Faine’s mother, and Cross, his and Simon’s father, had chosen to perform the binding after Simon’s mother had died. Lark was his brother’s Ne’est. His key. Their union was forever and highly respected by their people.

Faine felt that for Helena. And more than that, he was half demon, and demons tended to imprint on mates in the way of cat shifters. Intense attraction and then a voluntary binding. The two parts of Faine’s being had united in their hunger for Helena. He wanted her and he wanted her forever.

It all came down to just how Helena felt about it all.

“She is my Ne’est.” Faine blew out a breath. “Now I just need to convince her of that.”

Simon laughed as he turned the steaks. “Unsolicited advice?”

Faine shrugged. “Always appreciated.”

“They’ve grown up in the human world. Concepts of love are different for them. It took a while for Lark to come around when I first told her she was my key. Even though they’re witches they live in a world of what they can see more than what they can feel when it comes to romance.”

This had occurred to him. It had been a positive when he’d interacted with human women. He kept it light and that was fine. Back home he’d had more than enough company when he desired it, but Lycians were on the same page. They knew what he was, what he wanted, and those females who wanted more looked elsewhere.

He had thirty years with Lydia and it had been wonderful. But every time he went to his parents’ house, he saw their connection, saw what their bond was and he yearned for that. Had waited hundreds of years for it.

He hadn’t expected Helena. When he’d told her that, it was the total truth. Yes, sure, she was desirable on many levels. That hadn’t been the surprise part. It was that sweetness he glimpsed, as well as the ferocity in battle—that combination had been his undoing.

“We broached the subject earlier today and she blew it off. But she didn’t get out of bed either.” Faine raised a shoulder and grinned. His shoulder had ached for an hour after they’d been together. The nails she’d raked over his skin had left a mark that should have healed faster.

That they hadn’t was just another sign she was meant to be his. A mate’s marks faded slower because they were meant to be shown off.

Simon’s laugh was knowing. Faine knew his brother and his mate had an intense connection. “Keep a first- aid kit handy and watch your blood pressure. She’s as wild and hard to manage as her little sister, I’ll wager.”

“Yes. They share a tendency to work until they fall over.”

“You’ll need to provide incentive to get her into bed. It doesn’t get easier. Lark works herself to exhaustion. I’m glad Helena is here, maybe they’ll both rest a little. At least relax.”

“The next step is war. You know that.” Unlike Lark and Helena, Faine and his brothers had been through war. More than once. He wished it wasn’t heading in that direction. War sucked for everyone involved. But the humans, the ones who kept provoking the Others with acts of violence, weren’t going to listen until they were taught a hard lesson.

And sometimes hard lessons were bloody.