A Harvest of Dreams and Embers by Belinda Burke

Author:Belinda Burke [Burke, Belinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotic Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Entwined Group Ltd
Published: 2016-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * * *

Silent, invisible, a shadow among shadows, Macsen snuck out of the Red Kingdom, across the water and onto the Irish beaches, following Dealla’s trail. It was a trail of witch-power, her fury and her stench entwined.

He had waited impatiently, pacing in his bedroom, mouth full of hunger, before it had occurred to him that waiting was unnecessary. Bran had said he could get ready, hadn’t he? She was only a woman. Like any other prey, he could stalk her, track her.

Her odor and that of many other mortals started at the coast, a months’-old trail of scent that led him inland. He would wait for Bran before he killed her—she was his gift, after all—but he could find her before his lover joined him. He was too keyed up, too ready to postpone the hunt.

Macsen wanted her life too much.

The last thing he had expected was for Bran to run off to Summer. As if his brother mattered when—but no. That was his way of thinking, not Bran’s. It was one of the things he loved about his Summer son.

Macsen ran his hands up the sleeves of his tunic then licked his lips and started along the track again.

Just like he’d thought, the scent of Bran and his blood clung to the soft, silken mail. His throat was tight with thirst just breathing that smell. If he focused on it, it washed away everything else, even the taste of the woman he was following, but Bran wasn’t there. What to do about his hunger? Dealla was for his Valravn…

Perhaps the women and priests who followed her could serve as appetizers.

He closed his eyes and for a moment the tangle of scents around him was almost too much to bear. Macsen let a howl escape him then bit back the night song and ran in silence through the Irish wood.

He took the first woman he encountered with the speed of an arrow in flight, caught her by the throat and bled her without taking time to savor her life. It was only a drop, a trickle against the flow of his need. As fast as he had struck, he darted away, along the bulge of the tree line toward his next victim.

After the fourth, Macsen turned inward, seeking other prey. Dealla had arranged her defenders in circles, but he was close to her now. The forest was thick with her odor. Was she watching? Did she see her death approaching?

The trees thinned as he prowled ahead. Now that he was closer he could feel something of Summer, burning behind his prey. Weapons? What a fool she was. Macsen stepped forward into a clearing without pause, straight into the face of her women and the priests standing beside them.

Dealla whipped around to glare at him, shouted something to her women, but he ignored her for now. His hands were already on the throat of the man closest to him, and he sank his teeth in deep, savoring the crunch of the bite.

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