Page 86 of Brutal Birthright

If Oriana wasn’t able to use her magic to create a shield, he’d know she was here. Shit. Shit. Shit.

But, of course, his little warrior took it all in her stride. She quickly composed herself and arched a perfect eyebrow, propped her hands on her very-fucking-naked hips, and levelled him with a look that said no shit.

Her tits looked incredible.

Relief punched him in the chest.

“You’re just asking for another punishment.” Then he stooped and quickly bit down on her jaw before shoving her through the doorway. “Just stay out here under the water until I come and get you. Keep that pussy warm for me.”

She moved away on slightly wobbly legs, flashing him a smile that was all sweetness and the kind of goodness he shouldn’t ever be allowed to touch, then promptly created a shield with her magic. He sensed it straight away, like a clear bubble surrounding her and cutting off the presence of her aura from outside detection.

At least that was one of his problems resolved. Now he needed to turn his mind to more pressing matters. Namely how he’d prevent himself from tearing his brother’s throat out.

Niall knew better than to come here. His entire family knew better than to disturb him. That was the entire reason he’d set up the blood wards surrounding every inch of the property. All of which demanded the kind of sacrifice designed to weaken a would-be intruder.

Giving blood should be the least of Niall’s concerns right now.

He’d be lucky to leave here in one piece.

Rowan stabbed his legs into a pair of trousers, then swiped up a shirt. He should be sliding back into the tight, wet, cum filled pussy waiting for him. Not dealing with his godsdamned brother.

As he stormed across the living space and threw open the front door, he took in the sight of Niall standing at the gateway entrance. He was still working on giving the blood required to satisfy the first blood ward, which in theory, would allow him to pass. However, there were at least another eight enchantments laid between where he stood and the wooden porch outside his cottage.

Without Rowan’s intervention, it might take him hours to even get within a whisker of the front door.

“What the fuck do you want?” Rowan gritted his teeth. Shoving the crumpled shirt over his shoulders before wrestling it down his torso.

“Lovely to see you too, you black-hearted prick.” Niall shoved the small blade he’d used to cut open his palm back into the holster strapped across his ribs. “Always a tad dramatic, no?” He gestured to the space between the two of them—about twenty feet. The kind of distance Rowan would gladly maintain, especially knowing the secret he harboured inside.

“Is someone dead?” That was about the only acceptable excuse for disturbing him.

“Probably, somewhere,” Niall smirked. “But this will hopefully prevent death. So let me in before I bleed out all over your pathway.”

Ah, yes. The magic infused in his blood wards prevented a witch from accessing their healing powers. A particularly satisfying addition to the spells.

“Fine. But make it quick.” With a cast of his magic, he granted Niall access. Eyeing him warily as he loped his way up the front steps.

“Why? Got somewhere to be?” Niall cast an eye over him, then pushed past to head inside. Spirits fucking save his brother from an untimely early demise. “Whiskey?” He called over his shoulder. Already rummaging in the cupboards seeking out Rowan’s stash. Typical.

He made a concerted effort to inhale deeply through his nose. Clenching and flexing his fingers that wanted to reach for something sharp and deadly. As he shut the front door, the sight of Niall busy making himself at home greeted him. The dick-face had one boot propped up on the kitchen table as he slouched in a wooden chair. Rowan marched over, smacked his foot off, then grabbed the bottle before retreating to the other side of the room. Another occasion warranting a reason to forgo a glass.

There were too many of those these days, it would seem.

Feeling more on edge than he could ever recall, he took a long slug straight from the bottle. Niall’s piercing blue stare was still on him as he swiped the back of his hand over the wetness coating his mouth.

The scent of her pussy still lingered there.

Rowan shifted his weight, leaning against the countertop. Glaring back at his brother, who studied him over the rim of his glass. Silence stretched to fill the space, only punctuated by the heavy creak of the wooden floorboard beneath Niall’s chair as he shifted his weight.

“Get on with it then, princess.” This unwelcome visitation needed to be over. Immediately.

Niall swirled the amber liquid thoughtfully, then drained the rest of his glass.

“There’s a possible connection between the bodies found, the symbols, and the Seal of Elharean being opened.” His brother tapped a finger against one thigh. “Ancient magic, or whatever it is… there’s every possibility it could be primordial even. But all the information dug up so far from within the archives points to something we haven’t seen in any of these realms for longer than anyone can remember, and it appears that this force has taken the place of anything that used to be known as the House of Elharean.”

A clammy feeling rose up the back of Rowan’s neck. That old familiar feeling whenever the Goddesses came calling for the warlord’s services once more like a bell tolling an eerie and haunting peal in the distance.

“There’s every possibility those Elharean dicks are bullshitting.” His thoughts drifted to the whimpering, snivelling idiot he’d interrogated recently. There had been nothing of value to come out of that man’s mouth. Only dribble about how the dark sorcerers were loyal to a new leader.

---