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  She shook her head. “It's not fair, Mads, not like this. You can't come out of nowhere and demand an answer from me.”

  “What about my son?” There was a tautness to his voice now, a throbbing of rage and grief and something else that she couldn't name.

  “I didn't know that I was pregnant until I left. Then how could I risk him? You might have taken him away from me. You might have done anything.”

  “I would have respected your wishes,” Mads said, a hint of that bright temper burning through. “My people believe that children belong with their mothers, and it is their mothers who choose where they wish to live and with whom.”

  “I didn't know that, and what was I to do? Did you want me to bring myself and my child into a war that you were intent on fighting?”

  Mads was still after that, and Tara stared out of the window. There was so much in the air between them, and she thought that if she looked at him too long, she might simply fall back into his arms. She couldn't afford to do that, not when her child was lost, perhaps frightened, perhaps hurt.

  They stopped for the night at a hotel in the middle of nowhere. The sign said that they were in Indiana, but to her, the Midwest simply flowed from one flat field to another. She didn't flinch when Mads signed them in as man and wife, but the single bed gave her a pause.

  “They didn't have anything else,” Mads said stiffly. “I'll take the floor.”

  Silently, she made her way to the bathroom to bathe, and when she was clean, she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked delicate, even frail. She looked foreign to herself, and for a long moment, Tara wasn't sure that she recognized herself at all.

  “What do you want?” she whispered to her own reflection, and the answer was there. It was simple, and she realized that in some ways, nothing was simpler. She took off the towel and hung it up, and then, stark naked as the day she was born, she walked back into the hotel room.

  Mads looked up when she came out, and his eyes widened. He climbed to his feet, watching her warily, but she could see the immediate flame of desire in his eyes and the sudden tenseness of his body.

  “What are you playing at, Tara?” he asked roughly. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

  “What I want,” she said raggedly. “What we both want. It's been so long, Mads. I've missed you. I want you.”

  Mads closed the space between them in a few long strides, and though she expected to be crushed to him in a passionate embrace, he held her gently, as if certain she would break.

  “Tara, I thought you were dead,” he whispered. “I grieved for so long.”

  She bit her tongue on an apology, but he didn't need one. He tilted her face up with his finger on her chin, and the kiss he gave her was deep and restrained. His tongue pressed between her lips, and she opened to him willingly. She could feel his hard cock between them, and when she pressed herself closer to him, he groaned.

  “Don't tempt me if you don't mean it,” he whispered. “I couldn't stand that.”

  “I'm not teasing you,” she said, looking deeply into his eyes. “I want you. I don't know much, but I know that.”

  With aching tenderness, he scooped her up and deposited her in the middle of the enormous bed. She had slept in a scavenged twin bed for so long that this felt like an unspeakable luxury, and as she watched through heavy-lidded eyes, Mads stripped down to his skin. She flinched to see that there were more scars there, and where there had been five triangular tattoos over his hear when they first met, now there were seven.

  “More lost friends,” she said as he came to rest next to her.

  He dropped his gaze when she brushed her fingers across them and nodded.

  “Niall and Hild,” he answered. “Lost in battle.”

  She considered and then leaned down to kiss each mark, one for each companion he had lost.

  He shivered under her touch, and though his hands came up to clasp her shoulders, he did not pull her away. Inquisitive, she lapped her tongue over his skin, tasting the salt of his flesh and reveling in the way his muscles responded so completely to her.

  She nuzzled first one small flat nipple and then the other, and when he made a pleased sound, she pressed her thigh against his cock, feeling its weight and its heat.

  “You want me,” she murmured.

  “Never doubt it.”

  She kissed and lapped at his neck. The taste of him was so familiar on her tongue that she purred, and she stroked his flanks gently, running the tips of her fingers up and down.

  “You've always called me beautiful, but I don't know if I've ever said the same to you,” she mused. “You are, you know. Perfect, scars and all, and I have missed you.”

  Mads groaned as if something was being drawn out of him, and he palmed her belly, stroking the soft and tender skin there.

  “There are marks here now,” he said softly. “And you're softer. It only makes you more beautiful to me, and more sorrowful that I could not be here.”

  She quieted him with her mouth over his, and they passed long minutes like that, simply kissing and relearning each other. When Tara would have leaned up to kiss him more thoroughly, he pressed her to the bed.

  “Let me,” he said thickly. “It's been too long.”

  With no more warning than that, he started to kiss her, starting with the curve of her forehead, down her cheeks and stopping to press sweetly passionate kisses to her mouth. When she would have kept him there, he moved on to her neck and her collarbones, and then he pressed his mouth to her aching breasts, bigger now, with nipples that were lovely and dark.

  He pulled on first one and then the other, lapping at the tip with care, and when she threatened to arch off of the bed, he only laughed and told her to be patient. He trailed kisses down her ribs and over her belly, pausing to bite her hip bones with the tenderest care.

  It occurred to her that he was relearning her, finding what was different and what had changed over the course of the year they had been apart. There was such longing in his touch that tears came to her eyes, and she cradled his head in her hands, tangling her fingers in his hair.

  There was something tender about the way he kissed her hips and her legs, and though his hands ghosted over the hair of her legs, he only planted the softest kiss there before moving on. She squirmed when his mouth ended up on the ticklish part behind her knees, but she sighed when he laved his tongue over the bump of her heel and the curve of her foot.

  Slowly he worked his way back up, and somewhere in that timeless while, she could feel herself grow wet and wanting. It had been so long, and she felt like a different person now. Some trace of her unease must have shown on her face, because he reached up to stroke her face.

  “It doesn't matter,” he started to say. “We can stop if you want, we don't need to...”

  Hearing his concern tore at her heart, and she shook her head against the tears that stung her eyes. “No, no, it is only that I want you so much...”

  His smile was sweet and gentle, and he leaned up to place another kiss on her lips. “I want you like I want food and fire,” he whispered. “This is coming home.”

  He settled beside her, and though she could feel his cock against her hip, there was no haste in his motions at all.

  Instead, he swept his hand between her legs, stroking gently until they parted for him, and then he traced his fingertips long her damp slit. He circled her clit slowly, making her hips roll with desire, and then he pressed a finger inside.

  She flinched, and he halted, a look of concern on his face.

  “No, it's just... it's been a while. Go slow?”

  “As slow as you like,” he promised

  With gentle rocking motions and an infinite patience, he eased a finger inside her. Even that felt like a stretch, and Tara concentrated on looking into Mads' eyes as he opened her.

  “There,” he whispered. “That's what you want, isn't it?”

  “Yes, oh yes...”

  He held his hand still while he
kissed her, and then he was edging a second finger in. It went easier than the first hand, and the third went more easily still. He was thrusting his fingers into her slowly and steadily, and before she knew it, she was frantic for more.

  “Please?” she asked plaintively. “Please now?”

  “You're tight, it might hurt you...”

  Tara shook her head violently. “I don't care. I don't. All that matters to me right now is being with you. Please, Mads?”

  He searched her face, and then he nodded.

  Instead of coming over her as she expected, he lay down beside her and lifted her up instead. With that quick savage strength that had protected her so well, he set her straddled on top of him, and pressed flat between their bodies was his cock.

  “Put it in,” he whispered. “I want to know you want it.”

  Biting her lip, Tara reached down and stroked her hand around his cock a few times. It was achingly hard, and there was already a trickle of dampness from the tip. It was broader than she remembered, and she knew that he would stretch her.

  Just the tip was enough to make her gasp, and she rocked for a moment, easing herself down further.

  “Don't make it hurt you,” Mads said. “I couldn't take that.”

  She couldn't tell him that the slight ache and sting only intensified the pleasure. She loved how large he was, how she could barely take him, and the slow slide onto him made her faint with the sensations it brought.

  Finally, she pressed herself down on top of him with one quick thrust, making both of them cry out. This feeling of completion, of unity was what she had been missing for the past year, and she wanted to weep with how perfect it was.

  Mads' hands came up around her hips, holding her steady, and his body rolled underneath her.

  “Yes?” he asked through gritted teeth, and she nodded wildly.

  That was all the permission he needed to lift her nearly entirely off of him and to bring her down again. The long slow stroke pushed the pleasure inside her up to a fever pitch, and she writhed in his grasp, wanting more and needing more as well.

  He lifted her slowly a few more times, until the sting of his entrance was nothing more than memory, and she was slippery with need. She was desperate for him, starved for more, and she struggled against the hands that were keeping her from taking him fully.

  “Please, please now, Mads, I can't wait any more...”

  She was ready to beg, but now she could tell that he was as desperate for it as he was. He tightened his grip on her hips and brought her down hard on top of him, making her feel every inch of his length, and then he did it again. He pulled her to him with sharp, almost violent motions, and when she was wailing with need, he stilled for a moment.

  “Touch yourself,” he panted. “Just like you would if you were alone. I want to see it.”

  She groaned with embarrassment, aware that her cheeks were flushed bright red, but her hand went eagerly between her legs. She stroked her aching clit, and in less time than she thought possible, she was exploding like a night sky full of firecrackers. The pleasure took her body almost savagely, and she knew that she was tightening around him, thrashing against him.

  Mads growled and thrust into her even harder, and when he spilled in her, his hands tightened on her hips until she was sure he had left bruises. After a long moment, he eased out of her carefully, bringing her to lie by his side.

  Tara felt as if she was boneless. All of the energy had gone out of her, and after a long moment, she pressed her face to Mads' broad chest. She clung to him, and when the tears came, she only shook her head when he asked her what was wrong.

  The sobs shook her shoulders, and she felt as helpless as she had when pleasure was wracking her body. Her climax was so immense that she could barely keep her emotions under control, and now they bubbled up, spilling out of her. She cried out all of the grief and the pain that she felt she had hidden for the past year, and Mads only stroked her hair and muttered comforting things in her ear.

  It felt like she had been crying for hours, but then she finally pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

  “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...” she began, but Mads touched her hand gently.

  “It's fine,” he said softly. “I want you to have what you need, and just then, you needed to cry.”

  He held her for a long moment, and then he rose to go to the bathroom. He came back with a dampened cloth, and when she nodded, he cleaned her face and her body. The warm wetness of the towel and his soft words of love and comfort made her drowsy.

  Tara stretched out on the bed and watched him move through the room, smiling at his strength and his grace.

  There was nothing in this room that could hurt them. She knew it, and she clung to it. She knew that the next day, they would go to find their child, and that there would be danger in front of them. She knew that there was a chance that she and Mads would end up dead. Her heart hurt when she thought of Fen, and how alone he must be without her, but that was for tomorrow.

  Tonight, there was nothing else that they could do, and when he came back to the bed, she reached for him.

  “We will find him,” Mads said, but he stilled at her sad look.

  “Don't,” she said. “Don't promise me things that you can't know. Never lie to me again, Mads.”

  After a long moment, he nodded. She understood why he had lied before, even if she had not entirely forgiven him, and now he looked at her with perfect seriousness in his blue eyes.

  “I will never lie to you again,” he swore, “not in all our lives together, and I hope you allow me to stay with you. Even if you do not, I would rather die than lie to you again.”

  She looked in his face, and she felt in her heart that he was telling the truth.

  Mutely, she reached for him and he settled in her arms

  Tara fell asleep almost immediately, and her dreams were dark things. She had lost both Fen and Mads, and she couldn't find them. She rose in the night, and Mads was there to lull her to sleep again.

  In the morning, they rose, and though she lingered in the doorway of the homely little room, she left it without a glance back.

  Her path lay in front of her, not behind, and she took Mads' hand firmly in her own.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, locking the door behind them.

  Tara thought about the question seriously and honestly, and finally, she nodded.

  “I will be when we find our son,” she said, and he looked startled.

  “I want us to be together. I want us to be a family.”

  Mads swept her up in a hug that was fierce and relieved, and she hugged him back just as hard.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, and she knew they were ready to take on anything the world threw at them.

  Do you like this book? Be sure to check other books in this series

  To Soar with Eagles - Volume 5

  Love at the End of the World - Volume 6

  Hunting Hearts II (Trilogy Bundle)

  Be sure to check the first part of this series

  The Book of Unbound Chains - Volume 1

  Dreams of a Restless Sleep - Volume 2

  The Wolf Released - Volume 3

  Hunting Hearts (Trilogy Bundle)

  The Secrets of Longfellow Castle

  Synopsis

  University student Sophia Marshall has always been fascinated with Longfellow Castle and the rumors that it was once the home of vampires. A shy and innocent virgin, she decides to make the historic old building the subject of her thesis paper and dares to ask the current resident for an interview. Logan Longfellow is handsome and charming, and invites Sophia in for a guided tour and possibly a bite. Passion, love, and lust abound as Sophia discovers the dark secrets that Logan has been hiding behind the walls of Longfellow Castle and he shows her a part of herself she never knew existed.

  Chapter One

  Sophia Marshall’s hands were trembling as she reached out for the ornate brass knocker on the heavy front door. Embarrassed
by the foolishness of her anxiety, she shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket and forced herself to take deep calming breaths.

  Get a hold of yourself! It’s just an ordinary house with ordinary people. She recognized that her fear was just an automatic reaction brought on by a lifetime of hearing rumors. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d heard the scary stories about Longfellow Castle and how the people who lived there were vampires. It was a silly superstition passed around by school children and told at campfires for a thrill. The stories were nothing more than that, and Sophia knew that more than anybody.

  She’d spent her entire senior year at the university researching the history of Longfellow Castle. She knew everything there was to know about the architecture of the magnificent building, the genealogy of the family who owned it, and the social history of how the rumors of vampires and fears of the townspeople had grown into the legend it was today. She had decided to write her thesis paper on the subject. With any luck, it would earn her an “A” from her professor and allow her to graduate with a degree in Societal History. She’d been working on the project for months, and the only thing Sophia had left to do to make her thesis paper complete was to interview the residents of Longfellow Castle.

  Sophia realized that her trembling wasn’t because she feared the house, as much as it was fear of not being let inside. No one had seen or talked to anyone in the castle in years, and the owners were notorious for keeping their privacy. If she could get an interview with someone who lived in the castle, it would practically guarantee her an “A” on her paper, and an internship at the Institute of Societal History, which had been her dream career for as long as she could remember. If they turned her down, she would be heartbroken.

  What if they tell me to leave? What if they won’t even open the door? Sophia took a quick inventory of herself to make sure she was presentable, hoping that would help convince them to talk to her. Her school uniform looked proper, with black tights covering her long legs, oxford heels on her feet, a pleated light-gray skirt grazing her knees, her white cotton blouse neatly pressed, and finally her black school blazer with the university crest emblazoned on the front. Her auburn hair hung to her shoulders in soft waves, her creamy skin was clean and fresh, and her blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and excitement. A notebook, pen, and recorder were tucked under her left arm. Sophia realized she was as ready as she could be; now she just had to go for it!