Midnight's Surrender: A Dark Warriors Holiday Novella by Donna Grant Page B
Authors: Donna Grant
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passed as he dreamt of the magic and his body fought to stay alive. When he finally awoke, he was weak as a newborn and starving.
Somehow he managed to hunt for his food and gradually build up his strength. But if he thought the poison of the selmyr was gone from his body, he was wrong. It was still there, stinging his blood and attacking his organs at odd moments.
His only moment of peace was when he dreamed of the magic and imagined the unseen Druid’s hands gently caressing his body. The magic eased his suffering and stirred his blood until he couldn’t think of her without going rock hard.
How long he would live was anyone’s guess. Only when he was strong enough did he leave the woods. It didn’t take him long to learn that Jason had been defeated and Aisley had found happiness with another Warrior—Phelan.
That’s when Dale realized he had nowhere to go. He was immortal, so couldn’t live amongst mortals because there would be questions. He had to go somewhere to lose himself—and to make sure if Jason Wallace ever returned that he wouldn’t find him.
As if sensing his indecision, the magic that had haunted his dreams could suddenly be felt. No longer was it just in his dreams, but it was real and urging him to find it. It was faint, barely discernible, but there was no denying it was the same magic.
Without a second’s hesitation, Dale began to follow the magic toward the west.
His search of the magic had brought him to Coll. Now that he was here, the magic was stronger than ever before. And still it called to him, tempting him with its power, enticing him with its purity.
Seducing him with its allure.
After his meal and two ales, Dale paid and left the pub. He didn’t leave the village however. Years of training, and months with Jason instilled a need to learn about his surroundings. With only the one village to study, Dale kept to the shadows and spent the day learning about the village and its inhabitants.
All the while, the magic begged him to follow it, implored him to find the source. He worried it was a trap, especially after all he had been through—and done. So he remained. Even as his body fairly hummed with the mesmerizing magic.
It was mie magic. There was no denying that. It felt too good to be anything else but the pure magic a Druid was born with. Who did it belong to, and why had it drawn him here?
When night began to fall, he was surprised to see brightly colored lights hanging over the street every few hundred yards. He had been so intent on the people he failed to notice small details. Like the fact it was Christmas.
Christmas had long been one of his favorite holidays. His mother had always done a big meal during the holidays, and even when money was tight, she had managed to make the day special.
His mother had liked the old ways of decorating their trees with strung popcorn, candles, and ornaments each of her five children made themselves.
Dale longed to return home, but his mother wouldn’t be waiting for him. She’d died of a heart attack while he had been serving in the Royal Marines.
The Christmas he yearned for was no more. It had died with his mother. His siblings were scattered to the four winds. His mother had been the glue that held the family together, especially after his father was killed in action in the Royal Air Force, and without her, they were no longer a family.
Dale listened to the sound of carols filling the streets from the shops and cars passing. The multicolored lights that adorned the town reflected upon the snow, bringing an almost otherworldly feel to the isle.
He learned all he could from observing. It was time for him to listen. A pub in the evening could deliver all sorts of information.
Dale fisted his hands when the call of magic intensified. His cock ached with need, a longing he knew wouldn’t stop as long as he put off finding the source of the magic. But he had made too many bad mistakes in the past to go rushing off again. No
Somehow he managed to hunt for his food and gradually build up his strength. But if he thought the poison of the selmyr was gone from his body, he was wrong. It was still there, stinging his blood and attacking his organs at odd moments.
His only moment of peace was when he dreamed of the magic and imagined the unseen Druid’s hands gently caressing his body. The magic eased his suffering and stirred his blood until he couldn’t think of her without going rock hard.
How long he would live was anyone’s guess. Only when he was strong enough did he leave the woods. It didn’t take him long to learn that Jason had been defeated and Aisley had found happiness with another Warrior—Phelan.
That’s when Dale realized he had nowhere to go. He was immortal, so couldn’t live amongst mortals because there would be questions. He had to go somewhere to lose himself—and to make sure if Jason Wallace ever returned that he wouldn’t find him.
As if sensing his indecision, the magic that had haunted his dreams could suddenly be felt. No longer was it just in his dreams, but it was real and urging him to find it. It was faint, barely discernible, but there was no denying it was the same magic.
Without a second’s hesitation, Dale began to follow the magic toward the west.
His search of the magic had brought him to Coll. Now that he was here, the magic was stronger than ever before. And still it called to him, tempting him with its power, enticing him with its purity.
Seducing him with its allure.
After his meal and two ales, Dale paid and left the pub. He didn’t leave the village however. Years of training, and months with Jason instilled a need to learn about his surroundings. With only the one village to study, Dale kept to the shadows and spent the day learning about the village and its inhabitants.
All the while, the magic begged him to follow it, implored him to find the source. He worried it was a trap, especially after all he had been through—and done. So he remained. Even as his body fairly hummed with the mesmerizing magic.
It was mie magic. There was no denying that. It felt too good to be anything else but the pure magic a Druid was born with. Who did it belong to, and why had it drawn him here?
When night began to fall, he was surprised to see brightly colored lights hanging over the street every few hundred yards. He had been so intent on the people he failed to notice small details. Like the fact it was Christmas.
Christmas had long been one of his favorite holidays. His mother had always done a big meal during the holidays, and even when money was tight, she had managed to make the day special.
His mother had liked the old ways of decorating their trees with strung popcorn, candles, and ornaments each of her five children made themselves.
Dale longed to return home, but his mother wouldn’t be waiting for him. She’d died of a heart attack while he had been serving in the Royal Marines.
The Christmas he yearned for was no more. It had died with his mother. His siblings were scattered to the four winds. His mother had been the glue that held the family together, especially after his father was killed in action in the Royal Air Force, and without her, they were no longer a family.
Dale listened to the sound of carols filling the streets from the shops and cars passing. The multicolored lights that adorned the town reflected upon the snow, bringing an almost otherworldly feel to the isle.
He learned all he could from observing. It was time for him to listen. A pub in the evening could deliver all sorts of information.
Dale fisted his hands when the call of magic intensified. His cock ached with need, a longing he knew wouldn’t stop as long as he put off finding the source of the magic. But he had made too many bad mistakes in the past to go rushing off again. No
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