Page 84 of Dark Seduction

Claire paused. Malcolm and Royce were so furiously engaged that she had grave doubts about the nature of their practice. As she took a good look at Malcolm and then Royce, she realized that both men were very angry. If this was practice, she did not know what a real battle would be like. Each was clearly intent on defeating the other. She could guess why Royce was so angry, but Malcolm looked just as mad. Her heart lurched and she started forward.

Blow parried blow. Malcolm’s leine was soaking wet and it stuck to his powerful body, revealing every rippling muscle. His shoulder-length hair was dripping wet and sweat streaked his face. Royce matched him exactly.

Claire was certain that the events of last night were the reason for such terrible animosity. Malcolm needed to back down. Royce had been a father to him since Malcolm was nine years old. She understood Royce’s anger. It came from fear for his nephew.

Malcolm glanced at her and Royce struck the sword from his grasp and then laid his blade against Malcolm’s jugular. Malcolm tilted his head farther back, accepting his defeat but looking damn displeased about it.

“Royce!” Claire cried. Had Malcolm heard her thoughts? Surely Royce wasn’t going to cut him!

Royce snarled and then flung his sword tip first into the ground, where it stood, quivering. He strode past Claire, brushing his wet golden hair from his face, spraying her with his sweat.

She breathed hard as Malcolm bent to retrieve his sword. She was ready to rush into his arms. Instead, she slowly went to him. “Are you all right?” Royce had left a thin red line on his throat.

He straightened, sheathing his sword. Then he pushed his wet hair straight back over his forehead and behind his ears. Claire trembled, realizing he wasn’t looking at her. “Malcolm?”

He finally met her gaze, his eyes burning bright. “What, exactly, do ye ask? I should be the one asking ye if yer well.”

She tensed. “I’m fine…upset…a little bit scared…but fine.” She hugged herself. “Royce is angry about last night, isn’t he? He doesn’t really understand what happened.”

He flinched, looking away, a terrible expression of revulsion on his face. “I dinna wish t’ ever discuss last night. An’ dinna try to defend me now.”

“Of course I’ll defend you! I will always defend you, because you are the most honorable man I have ever met! Honor won last night.”

He faced her furiously, but he became stricken as he finally stared at her face. “’Tis time fer dinner,” he said harshly. He started past her.

“We have to talk about last night!” Claire seized his wet forearm, but he whirled and leaped away. “Malcolm, we cannot ignore what happened! I almost lost you last night—and I almost died!”

“Will ye nay leave it alone?” he shouted. “I be here, do I not? Yer alive, are ye not?”

“How can I leave it alone? Moray almost turned you evil. I was ready to die last night in your arms, in pleasure—willingly!” she cried wildly, shaking.

He inhaled, and for one moment Claire thought he was going to shove her away. Instead, very gently, he removed her hand from his arm. “Aye, ye almost died last night. I took all o’ ye that I could.” His eyes blazed.

When he did not say another word, she whispered, “You were going to die. You’re programmed to live, no matter the cost. And you didn’t take all of me.” Then, because she wanted to be certain, “You stopped, didn’t you? Somehow, you stopped.”

His face looked to be in danger of cracking. She wasn’t certain he could speak, as he was breathing so hard. Finally he said, “Aye. I felt ye leavin’ this world. I stopped the beast that lives in me. This one time.”

“You chose good, not evil,” she managed to say. “There is so much hope!”

He roared, “Ye had nothin’ left that I wanted!”

She cringed. “Don’t.”

“Don’t tell ye the truth yer so fond of?”

Compassion overcame her. “I understand your anger,” she whispered. “And I understand last night. You know I do. I felt every explosive moment that you were having and it made me want more and more, too. It made me want to die for you. I get it, now. Who wouldn’t want more of that kind of insane sex, that kind of unbelievable ecstasy, after trying it once? I get it. Even knowing the risks, it could tempt me to try it again! But you’re not an average man. You were destined for good, not evil. You defeated Moray at the last possible moment. Malcolm, you won.”

He became savage. “Ye should be afraid. I defeated no one! Ye wish to encourage my memories? When I look at ye, I see ye as ye were last night—near death, yer face filled with pleasure—and I feel ye flowin’ in my veins. I feel ye even now!”

She recoiled, realizing that last night had changed everything. His control was very fragile, and she had spoken far too freely and in too much detail. She hesitated, uncertain of what to say.

“Aye. I can still taste ye, Claire. But ye want to ‘talk’ about it. Fine. We’ll talk. I am close to bein’a Deamhan. Maybe I am already becoming one. Do ye still want to talk?” He strode away, toward the hall.

She had hoped, foolishly, that in the light of day the old Malcolm would be back. His anger told her that he cared about his fate. As long as he did, they could beat this terrible thing. But he was afraid now. She had never guessed that he might be afraid of anything, and he was afraid of himself.

Hearing her, he turned, eyes wide. “I be very angry, Claire. Aye, an’ I be afraid. Ye need to stay far from me. And there be no ‘we.’ I fight Moray alone.”

Claire knew she could not abandon him in this hour of crisis. She wasn’t hiding in any more closets.