kind. If they did, he’d have more to worry about than keeping Annwyn safe from within. He’d have humans to keep out.
He did not need mortals creeping about his world, causing havoc and mayhem. They would not understand magick, or Annwyn. And when humans didn’t understand, when they feared something they could not explain, their natural inclination was to destroy.
As king of the Sidhe it was his duty to protect Annwyn and its secrets. And to do that he needed to lie with a human female to sustain his magic. A bitch of an irony, but there was nothing to be done about the Legacy Curse now. He needed this woman.
“The two of you better be keeping your noses clean tonight.”
The gruff voice of Rhys MacDonald stopped Bran and he turned and faced his cousin. That this human was part-Sidhe burned him every time he thought it. His uncle had been a fool to give up his throne and his powers for a mere human. To know his uncle’s essence swam in the veins of this mortal made Bran feel savage.
“What are you up to, Raven? And it’s not your usual sex fest.”
“Nothing you need concern yourself over.”
“Don’t bother to hide it. I already know about the bodies that have shown up in Annwyn.”
“The Shadow Wraith, no doubt. He needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.”
Rhys shrugged. “He doesn’t need to tell me things. We’re connected. I already knew of the killings before he told me.”
“You’re an abomination,” Bran spat with disgust. “Your bond with your wraith is unnatural.”
“Screw you, Raven.” Rhys took a step closer to him. “If you’ve come here looking for revenge, you can sheath your talons. The murders didn’t happen in my club.”
“No, just beneath it.”
Rhys’ gaze narrowed. “That’s your domain, King. I haven’t gone near that door since you put the spell on it. You can look to your own kind for the murders.”
“Why do you think I’m here?” Bran growled impatiently.
“And I thought you came to get your rocks off.”
Bran felt his lips curl with rage. “Stay out of my business, MacDonald, or you’ll wish you had.”
“Is that right?” Rhys snorted, straightening his stance as if he were getting ready for a fight. “While you’re here, in my club, you’ll watch yourself. I’m not going to allow you two to interfere with my livelihood. No cops, no magick, and no trouble, you got that? You might be king back there,” he gritted out as he pointed to the wooden door that led to the Cave of Cruachan, “but in my club, I’m the boss.”
“I’m only here thanks to your great-great-grandfather. If he hadn’t left our world to fuck a human, believe me, neither would I.”
MacDonald stiffened at the affront, his violet eyes narrowing dangerously. He was mostly mortal, true, but Bran knew he could fight like the devil, and just as dirty, too.
“As I wasn’t around a hundred and seventy years ago, I’m not taking responsibility for your curse. It’s not my problem Daegan found the women of my species more pleasing than the Sidhe. I know what brings you here, Raven. Now get your fix and do your investigating, but keep a low profile. There’re a couple of undercovers here tonight, so watch what you’re doing and who you’re screwing.”
There had never been anything but bad blood between Bran and his mortal relations, but this little prick was the one who had gotten under his skin the most. Probably because Bran saw so much of himself in the immovable, arrogant man’s face.
“Oh, yeah,” Rhys drawled, stepping closer so that they were nearly nose to nose. “I have a message for you from Keir.”
Bran glanced at the DJ, who was still playing music. “What does he want?”
“Stay the fuck away from the one named Rowan.”
“And which one is she?”
“The blonde.”
Bran was instantly relieved. “Tell your friend that the one named Rowan holds no interest for me. It is the other I want.”
Rhys slowly backed away. “I’ll be watching
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