Page 25 of Queen of Whispers and Mist

Fuuuck.He knew she didn’t mean that in a sexual sense, quite the opposite, in fact. But damned if he could get his cock to understand the distinction. It jerked to attention at her words, swelling further as his mind filled with the various ways he’d happily help Shadow takeallof his inches.

Beside him, Calypso chuckled. Finally she reached out, pressing the tip of her finger to his chin and pushing it firmly up. “So that was your lady Shadow.”

“Aye.”

“Is she always that feisty?”

“Since the day we first met.”

“I can see why you’re so taken with her.”

There was a thoughtful, admiring quality to her voice that had Ronan turning his full attention back to her. “Don’t go getting any ideas, No Beard. You may collect lovers like other people do jewels, but she’s spoken for, and unlike you pirates, I don’t share.”

“That’s too bad for you, Ronan. Sharing can be such fun. But far be it from me to try to convince you. If you’re happy with your one true love, then my best wishes to you both. Though I have to say, I’ve seen men on shore leave who received a warmer welcome than you just did. Are you sure she’s yours, Butcher?”

He knew she was teasing him, but his answer was dead serious. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my damned life.”

“Well then, doessheknow it?”

The question was an emotional gut punch because, no, she didn’t. And wasn’t that the crux of it all? Still, he refused to lose hope. Because even now, even without the benefit of her memories, Shadow was still drawn to him. On some primal level, part of her recognized they belonged together. Why else would she have gotten jealous at the attention Calypso had shown him?

Bolstered by the realization, Ronan steeled himself for the fight ahead. And it would be a fight because that woman was as stubborn as she was deadly. But he’d broken through her walls once before. He could do it again.

Hehadto.

Because she was it for him. There was no one else.

After a lifetime spent searching, Shadow was his happily ever after, and he damn well intended to claim it. If he had to spend the rest of his days making her fall in love with him over and over again, he would. And he’d consider himself blessed for the privilege. What better ending could there be for a man such as him? He’d been little more than a hopeless wanderer, going where he was needed, never putting down roots, never belonging anywhere. And he’d been happy with that path. Until her. Until he’d found the person who made him feel like he’d finally found a place to rest.

So even if it hurt. Even if it shredded him to the very marrow every time she looked at him and didn’t remember, he would keep fighting. With his dying breath, he would fight for her. Because she deserved it. Because she was his.

Because she was home.

CHAPTER9

EREBOS

The Lord of Death was not amused. In fact, he was feeling particularly murderous this morning.

Three of the palace staff had found themselves on the receiving end of his black mood before Dominic discovered their corpses and wisely kept everyone else at bay. But not even giving into the need to cull a spirit from its body had been enough to blunt the edge of his temper.

Even now, hours later, fury coiled in his belly like a serpent prepared to strike. All around him the darkness closed in, created by the little wisps of black floating off his fingers. Daylight might reign outside, but within these walls, the oppressive weight of night was so thick not even candles could fully penetrate the gloom.

She was gone. Taken. There was no doubt in his mind it was not by choice. He’d been thorough in his ministrations. Her loyalty was absolute. Which meant the blackguard had been planning on taking her. There was no other explanation for how he’d disappeared without a trace. One did not simply vanish without preparation.

Or help.

And Luna have mercy on their souls when he uncovered the identity of the traitorous letches—because he would not.

The door to his personal chamber opened with a soft click, and his body tensed. He didn’t turn around to face his visitor; he didn’t trust himself to keep up the pretense of mortality. His true self was too close to the surface, his control precarious at best due to his seething anger. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally kill one of his most loyal followers simply because they were the bearer of bad news.

Not while he still had need of them, anyway.

“Yes?” he snapped.

“No sign of either of them, High Lord,” Dominic said, regret in every word.

“Any word from your sister?”

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