Whispers of the Moon: A Paranormal Mystery Romance (The Underworld Series Book 24) by H.P. Mallory

Author:H.P. Mallory [Mallory, H.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rain Press
Published: 2021-07-29T22:00:00+00:00

***

Nyx

I’d seen that look in men’s eyes before.

Sooner or later, all men want exclusive rights to a woman. Sometimes its male ego, sometimes it’s genuine feelings. Pagan was all feelings. He liked me. I liked him too, as much as any man I’d been with—maybe even as much as Conal. But just because I liked him more than other men didn’t make those other men vanish. I still wanted the other men. There had been a time when I’d wondered what was wrong with me and I’d tried to be like other people, but then I realized I wasn’t being true to myself. Maybe it was everyone else who was screwed up, denying the animal nature of mankind (and womankind). I liked who I was and I liked my approach to sex and relationships.

I hoped Pagan would remain one of my lovers, despite that longing look in his eyes. Some men, like Conal, could deal with my need for sexual variety. Others, like Braden, couldn’t. Pagan and I had something that went beyond sex though (incredible though the sex was). There was no question about it, and in his eyes, I could see he felt monogamy was the next logical step. But I didn’t think that way. A relationship didn’t have to be exclusive to be special. There were friends you would die for, but you still had other friends. Why did sex have to complicate things? In my world, it didn’t.

“What do you think will happen next?” I asked.

Pagan took a breath. “Well you’ll have to give me a minute, I’m only human.”

I laughed and gave his flaccid organ a playful tug (damn that thing had done good work today). “I mean here. At Kinloch Kirk. All these people are arriving. It’s not our fight. And yet…”

“It somehow all seems like part of the same fight,” Pagan concluded.

“Yeah. So, what next?”

He shrugged. “The final fight between good and evil.”

“Where the fuck does that leave me?” I asked—I’d never had much time for those tedious black and white distinctions.

“Good,” replied Pagan. “If only by association.”

Pagan, the boy scout, always seeing the best in me.

“That’s going to take some getting used to.”

We lay there a while longer, and I wondered; what could be more natural? Two people who cared for each other lying side by side after a lovely romp in the sheets. To me, that was what we were fighting for; that naturalness.

Maybe I was one of the good guys, after all.

Things happened fast at Kinloch Kirk. At my fortress of Glyderau, I’d cut the Samhain off from the world so we couldn’t be attacked, so we’d be safe. These people seemed to invite the attack. Then again, that fight was coming whether they wanted it or not.

I remained on the periphery of meetings, councils, and discussions—no one seemed to know what role I played or if I was part of all this at all—but I kept abreast of what was going on.

Queen Jolie had brought back word that Duine

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