you.”
Closing his eyes, Cynyr fell into a deep slumber and the goddess asked Brady to bring a blanket to cover his nakedness. Tiredly, she left Cree’s cell and went into Arawn’s, bidding that Reaper to wake.
Bevyn remained slumped against the bars. He could not look up at Morrigunia as she came to stand in front of him.
“You have questions, young one?” she asked.
“I am worried about Cree’s lady,” he said.
“She is not being hurt.”
Reluctantly, he lifted his gaze to hers. “Will she not have felt Cree’s agony? She has one of his fledglings.”
Morrigunia shook her head. “The moment his queen and fledglings ceased life, hers would have been cut off from Cree. There are no more of that breed left save what it hosted within Aingeal’s body.”
“It is a rogue who has her, mo regina ,” Bevyn said.
“I know this,” the goddess replied.
“The rogue vowed to kill her. He—”
“He has inadvertently hurt her, but he will never again.”
Bevyn winced at the terrible news. “The baby?”
58
Reaper’s Revenge
Morrigunia shook her head. “The babe is no more, but there will be future sons of her union with Cynyr Cree. You have no need to worry on that account.”
“Arawn and I need to go after her,” Bevyn persisted. “We—”
“It is for Cynyr to right the wrong done to his mate,” Morrigunia cut him off. “The revenge is to be his and it will be a brutal revenge, Bevyn Coure.”
Bevyn looked over at Cynyr. “But you said he will be ill for a week or more. We can’t leave Aingeal in Otaktay’s hands.”
“Have no fear for Cynyr’s mate. The red man will care for her in the same way Cree would or you would care for your Lea. Leave the vengeance in the hands of the man who will execute it with a savagery you could never imagine.”
59
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Chapter Seven
Aingeal awoke to cool water dribbling gently onto her parched lips. Her head ached horribly and her body itched as though a million ants were crawling upon it. She moved her face, feeling the water trickling over her chin and onto her throat.
“Can you sit up?” he asked gently, further surprised at the softness of his tone. Aingeal tried to nod but the pain in her head splintered into a hundred fiery shards that nearly pitched her back into unconsciousness. She gagged, whimpering as she was gently propped up so she was half reclining against a warm, solid body.
“I am here, my love,” Otaktay whispered to her. “I will care for you.”
She recognized the voice of the man and although she could recall her own name, his escaped her. She clung to him, wrapping her hands around his muscled forearm as he held her. She knew she belonged to him, but beyond that, much of her mind was blank. Her whereabouts were a mystery. She saw gray stone walls with strange columns spearing down from overhead. The sound of water came to her but she had no idea what place this could be.
“Where am I?” she whispered, her throat raw, her mouth filled with a coppery taste.
“In the Cave of the Winds,” Otaktay replied. “It is safe for us here.”
She looked up into black eyes that were gazing down at her with gentleness. The skin of the man holding her was much darker than her own. His long black hair was parted in the middle and woven into two thick braids that hung over his bare chest.
“I hurt,” she said.
Otaktay had not learned that much about being a rogue from Silus Gibbs but he knew enough to delve into his woman’s thoughts. He was surprised she had no memories to search and that her mind was filled with shadows and confusion. Guiltily he knew the blow he had administered to her head had caused the situation, for one of his cousins had suffered just such a condition when he’d hit his head in a fall.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked her.
“No,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
Realizing the gods had given him a reprieve with this woman, Otaktay lifted her fingers to his lips and
Closing his eyes, Cynyr fell into a deep slumber and the goddess asked Brady to bring a blanket to cover his nakedness. Tiredly, she left Cree’s cell and went into Arawn’s, bidding that Reaper to wake.
Bevyn remained slumped against the bars. He could not look up at Morrigunia as she came to stand in front of him.
“You have questions, young one?” she asked.
“I am worried about Cree’s lady,” he said.
“She is not being hurt.”
Reluctantly, he lifted his gaze to hers. “Will she not have felt Cree’s agony? She has one of his fledglings.”
Morrigunia shook her head. “The moment his queen and fledglings ceased life, hers would have been cut off from Cree. There are no more of that breed left save what it hosted within Aingeal’s body.”
“It is a rogue who has her, mo regina ,” Bevyn said.
“I know this,” the goddess replied.
“The rogue vowed to kill her. He—”
“He has inadvertently hurt her, but he will never again.”
Bevyn winced at the terrible news. “The baby?”
58
Reaper’s Revenge
Morrigunia shook her head. “The babe is no more, but there will be future sons of her union with Cynyr Cree. You have no need to worry on that account.”
“Arawn and I need to go after her,” Bevyn persisted. “We—”
“It is for Cynyr to right the wrong done to his mate,” Morrigunia cut him off. “The revenge is to be his and it will be a brutal revenge, Bevyn Coure.”
Bevyn looked over at Cynyr. “But you said he will be ill for a week or more. We can’t leave Aingeal in Otaktay’s hands.”
“Have no fear for Cynyr’s mate. The red man will care for her in the same way Cree would or you would care for your Lea. Leave the vengeance in the hands of the man who will execute it with a savagery you could never imagine.”
59
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Chapter Seven
Aingeal awoke to cool water dribbling gently onto her parched lips. Her head ached horribly and her body itched as though a million ants were crawling upon it. She moved her face, feeling the water trickling over her chin and onto her throat.
“Can you sit up?” he asked gently, further surprised at the softness of his tone. Aingeal tried to nod but the pain in her head splintered into a hundred fiery shards that nearly pitched her back into unconsciousness. She gagged, whimpering as she was gently propped up so she was half reclining against a warm, solid body.
“I am here, my love,” Otaktay whispered to her. “I will care for you.”
She recognized the voice of the man and although she could recall her own name, his escaped her. She clung to him, wrapping her hands around his muscled forearm as he held her. She knew she belonged to him, but beyond that, much of her mind was blank. Her whereabouts were a mystery. She saw gray stone walls with strange columns spearing down from overhead. The sound of water came to her but she had no idea what place this could be.
“Where am I?” she whispered, her throat raw, her mouth filled with a coppery taste.
“In the Cave of the Winds,” Otaktay replied. “It is safe for us here.”
She looked up into black eyes that were gazing down at her with gentleness. The skin of the man holding her was much darker than her own. His long black hair was parted in the middle and woven into two thick braids that hung over his bare chest.
“I hurt,” she said.
Otaktay had not learned that much about being a rogue from Silus Gibbs but he knew enough to delve into his woman’s thoughts. He was surprised she had no memories to search and that her mind was filled with shadows and confusion. Guiltily he knew the blow he had administered to her head had caused the situation, for one of his cousins had suffered just such a condition when he’d hit his head in a fall.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked her.
“No,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
Realizing the gods had given him a reprieve with this woman, Otaktay lifted her fingers to his lips and
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