Chapter Seven
Finn had raced all day to get here, riding Lir until the poor beast was lathered and exhausted. When he hit the clearing where they lived, he leaped from Lir and took off running for the cottage, not even slowing as he drew his blade.
The door slammed into the earthen wall. In the hearth, the embers of the fire glowed faintly. There was no light beyond that, but it was no deterrent to him. He could see clearly as he moved through the small cottage, although what he saw in the bedroom was enough to make him wish he was blind.
It was his every nightmare. No—it was worse. Even in his nightmares, he hadn’t imagined seeing his woman, his love, writhing beneath the body of another man.
But it took less than a heartbeat to realize that it was not a man. Though the illusion the creature wore was powerful, Finn saw through it to the incubus, the nightmare creature that lived beneath. It was a white-skinned demon, hair nearly as pale as its snow-white skin—and as Finn lifted his blade, preparing to strike, the thing pushed back onto his heels.
And lifted burning red eyes to stare at Finn.
In that very second, the veil that he hadn’t even realized was there splintered, and the man born as Finn, called Azar in the realm of the demons, remembered.
He remembered this exact moment, happening long ago, but it hadn’t been Corsivo. It had been a demon that had been known as Eclias—and Finn had killed that incubus with one stroke of his blade, unaware that Caoilinn had fled the cottage until she was already out the door.
She had jumped…and his rage had split his soul from his body, giving birth to the demon called Azar.
Seven hundred years he had walked the demon realms as an incubus, sliding into the mortal realm through the dreams of women, turning into the monster that he had once hunted.
It took only seconds for the memories to flash through his mind.
Lowering the blade, he closed his eyes. “Why are you making me relive this, Corsivo?”
There was a soft slithery sound and he opened his eyes to see Caoilinn sliding off the mattress, staring at Finn with horror and fear in her eyes. Finn moved to block her, but she froze even as he started to move toward her.
Literally froze, her eyes staring blankly ahead, her lips parted, even her chest didn’t move.
“You’re not reliving this, you are living it,” the demon king murmured, rising from the bed. “Regret, Finn, ‘tis a powerful emotion among the demon kind. Not an emotion we are supposed to feel…and when we do, amazing things can happen.”
Corsivo moved toward Finn, pausing for one second to rest his hand on Finn’s shoulder. “You’ll not remember any of this, and none of your time as Azar. Time will realign as it should be, and you will once more be Finn, destroyer of demons, and you’ll have one chance to save your bride.”
Thousands of questions swarmed through his mind, but he couldn’t voice any of them. By the time his throat had loosened enough to speak, Corsivo was gone. And so was Finn’s memory of him.
Instead, he saw a black-skinned incubus covering the pale figure of his wife. A sense of déjà vu swept through him. Haven’t I done this before…? But as he stood there with his sword lifted high, he couldn’t for the life of him make sense of what he was doing.
Instead of killing the demon as his gut insisted he do, he sheathed his blade, and moved toward Caoilinn.
He never saw the demon wink out of sight as he caught her arm just as she tried to slip past him, tears streaming down her cheeks, sobs all but choking her.
“Caoilinn!”
She shook her head, staring at his chest, struggling against him. “Don’t touch me! I’m dirty—I let that thing touch me!”
Finn drew her against him. Rage ate a hole in his belly. Jealousy boiled inside him. But more…more. There was a passionate, gut-deep relief that she hadn’t slipped away from him.
“You are not dirty. ‘Tis a demon, and a demon’s magic he used. You couldn’t see beyond that.”
“I should have!” she screamed. “I should know my own husband.”
He eased her against his chest, ignoring her struggles. “You do know me—you knew the minute I entered that he wasn’t real. He’s a demon—he used magic on you—that isn’t your fault.”
“Let me go!” she screamed, struggling against him.
“No. Never,” he rasped, clutching her to him desperately. Fear ate a hole in his stomach. “You are mine—forever, remember? You promised me, Caoilinn. You promised you’d never leave me.”
She sobbed and it was as though her bones simply turned to water as she collapsed in his arms. “How could I have let that thing touch me? How can you stand to look at me?”
Finn murmured against her hair, “You are my own sweet Caoilinn. I’ve loved you for an eternity, and I’ll not let my anger cost me you.”
As sobs racked her body, he lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bed, lying on the bed with her cradled against him. “You’re my love, my only love…you are all to me,” he crooned against her temple.
Caoilinn felt cold inside, icy, as though she stood naked on the cliffs in the middle of a winter gale. The only heat was that of Finn’s body and she shivered in his arms, trying to squirm closer. She felt dirty inside—scarred, somehow.
“Take it away,” she begged, lifting her face and staring at Finn desperately. He couldn’t possibly forgive her as easily as that. She knew it in her belly. Her begging him to touch her was useless. How could he want to touch her after this? But she needed his touch, needed it to burn away that foul taint that seemed to cling to her.
His fingers threaded through her hair, gently arching her face to his. When his lips covered hers, she could have wept. His tongue licked at the seam of her lips, tracing the shape of her mouth before he gently pushed inside, tasting her deeply.
One hand slid down her neck, over her shoulder, down her torso until he could pull her lower body against him. His body, still clothed, pressed against her, the heat seeping into her bones, warming her chilled flesh.
She sobbed against his lips as his hand cupped her mound, his palm grinding lightly against her clit. Finn slid two fingers inside the tight, dew-slicked sheath of her pussy, pumping them slowly in and out until she was rocking against him and moaning eagerly.
He brought her to climax and she lay there quivering as he pushed back. Lifting heavy lashes, she watched as he tugged at the laces that held his breeches closed. His cock sprang free and she reached down, closing her fingers around his length. Pumping her wrist slowly, she stroked him up and down, staring up at him with wide, tear-damp eyes. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and rough.
A smile canted his lips up. “I love you,” he murmured back as he closed his hand around her wrist, gently tugging her hand away. “Nothing will change that…nothing will take you from me.”
As he covered her body and pushed inside, Caoilinn wrapped her arms around him, linking her fingers at the back of his neck. Arching up, she took him deep inside her body, and half-sobbed, half-gasped out his name.
“Forever,” he murmured into her ear as he started to move against her.
“Forever,” she sighed.
He made love to her gently, pressing soft, easy kisses to the darkening bruises on her breasts. With every touch of his hand, a little bit of the nasty, dark taint seemed to lift, and by the time the powerful need for climax was unfurling inside her belly once more, she could think of nothing but Finn. His cock seemed to swell, throbbing inside her pussy as she wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to keep him locked inside her.
Turning her head, she sought his mouth, catching his lower lip in her teeth and tugging gently. He groaned and started to fuck her harder, his fingers biting urgently into her flesh as he lifted her against him.
“Scream for me, Caoilinn,” he purred as her head fell back, her mouth open as she panted raggedly for air.
“Finn,” she moaned weakly.
He laughed as he lowered his head to her neck, licking a slow, lazy trail up the damp flesh, closing his teeth around her ear and biting gently. “That’s nice…but it’s not a scream.”
He pulled out and as he pushed inside her this time, he rotated his hips a little, stroking her deep inside. At the first thrust, her eyes flew open wide. At the second, she groaned, a harsh, rough sound. And with the third stroke, she was screaming, her nails raking his back as she thrashed and bucked underneath him.
He exploded inside her just as she started to come—she could feel the hot wet jet of his seed as he filled her. The contractions seized her womb and she stared up at him blindly as the orgasm ripped through her.
A few heartbeats passed with him locked inside her, his weight braced on his palms, his hips pressed snug against her as his cock jerked and pulsed.
Then he collapsed against her and as he rested his head between her breasts, her eyes closed.
Sleep came and took them and they slept wrapped in each other’s arms, not another word spoken of what had transpired that night.
And when morning came…their memories of the nights past were gone, as though they had never happened.