Waking Eden (The Eden Series Book 3) Read online

  He grabbed her hand and stretched back out on the blanket, pulling her so she lay half on and half off him. “You mean the fact that I’ve only gotten you off with my mouth and my fingers? That you’re the only one who’s come? Yeah, it’s got something to do with my intent.” He caressed her neck and his thumb skated back and forth along her hairline. “Telling you I love you and proving it are two very different things.” His eyes locked onto her lips. “I’m more interested in the latter.”

  What if I said I love you too? Was it really possible to feel such a thing so quickly? And what if everything changed after she said it? For all she knew, she was just a challenge to Ramsay. A shiny new toy that would lose its luster the minute she uttered the words.

  She pushed the thought aside. Ramsay might be a lot of things, but shallow wasn’t one of them. He might have been deceptive at first, but it wasn’t without cause. Now that everything was out in the open, there was no point in him jumping through hoops for something he’d been willing to flat-out say he wanted a few days ago.

  Ramsay shifted beneath her, tilting his head to one side. “If I wanted to talk with your father, how would I do that?”

  Why would he want to? “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve never needed to call him. He just shows when I need him. When I think of him.”

  “So you talk to him at will? Like telepathy?”

  Another good question. Not that she knew yet how telepathy worked since she had no Myren family to connect with. She’d tried to communicate with Lexi, but came up with a big nothing. Which sucked because it confirmed they weren’t related.

  “No,” she said. “I wouldn’t call it telepathy. I mean, except for during the awakening. I heard his voice in my head then, but most of the time I just think of him and he poofs in.”

  Ramsay grinned. “He poofs in?”

  She smiled back, his boyish charm infecting her the way it always did. “Yeah.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  She traced the metal torc at his neck, mostly platinum, but with yellow gold bars at either side of a black Pegasus etched at its center. Except for the first day after her awakening, he’d always worn it, along with the drast and black leather pants the rest of the warriors wore. “His name is Kazan. His build is similar to yours, about the same height as you too. My mom must’ve been the blond because his hair is as black as it gets.”

  “He’s with the Black contingent?”

  She nodded and reality dimmed for a minute, warm memories flooding up from the countless easy conversations she’d had with her father. “The good side, he’d say. Passion. Lust for life.” She met Ramsay’s gaze. “Personally, I’ve never seen that side of him. He’s always calm with me. Reserved, like a part of him is missing.”

  Ramsay tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sounds like a good man. Though I don’t think he’d appreciate the term poof. Pop, maybe. Or appear. Not poof. Men do not poof.”

  A happy giggle bubbled up. When was the last time she’d felt this light? This unencumbered by responsibility and have-nots? “Why all the questions?”

  His gaze slid to the skies for a second, then returned to her. “I’d like to talk to him. Do you think you could tell him that?”

  Ramsay and her father? In the same room?

  Oh, wait. It was probably prophecy talk. “He can’t help you with the prophecy. If he does, he’ll forfeit his existence. He barely survived the penalty for his indiscretion with Mom.”

  Ramsay cupped the back of her head. If she weren’t sprawled across him already, the intensity of his expression would’ve knocked her over. “It’s something more important than the prophecy, Sunshine.”

  “Then what is it?”

  His ornery grin flipped back into place, and he rolled them until he had her pinned against the blanket. “Things a man who wants another man’s daughter needs to say one-on-one.” He studied her a minute. “Now, are you going to help me out and give Dad a jingle, or do I need to persuade you?”

  A towering form solidified behind them. Black T-shirt, black jeans, black boots. Her father, who, from the scowl on his face, appeared to be in a black mood.

  His powerful voice sounded above them before Trinity could say a word to warn Ramsay. “I can hear you fine.”

  * * *

  Ramsay froze above Trinity, biceps flexed and ready for action.

  It had to be her dad. And didn’t that figure. His first introduction to the guy, and he was nearly on top of his daughter, forearms braced on either side of her head. Logic said to roll away and spring to his feet. Something far more primitive kept him rooted in place, the need to protect, even mark her as his, knocking reason out of the way.

  Trinity pushed on his chest, urging him to move, her eyes wide and locked on the man behind her.

  “Look at me,” Ramsay said, quiet enough to keep the communication between the two of them.

  Her gaze slid to his. With every second the pretty pink flush on her cheeks strengthened.

  He kissed her, a soft, innocent touch, and murmured against her lips. “Breathe.”

  Kazan’s shadow fell across them. “A little hard for her to do that considering the circumstances, don’t you think?”

  Fuck. He’d forgotten their powers. The Great One only knew how vast they were.

  “Far more than yours,” Kazan said, answering Ramsay’s thought. “And I think I’ve been more than patient holding them back where my daughter’s concerned.”

  So, he could read minds on top of exceptional hearing. Good to know.

  He eased back to his knees and helped Trinity up, keeping his back to Kazan despite his instincts to do otherwise until she was steady. Weird how centered he felt. No need for posturing or anger, just a single-minded focus to handle what needed handling.

  He turned and squared his shoulders, wrapping one arm around Trinity’s waist and offering his hand to her father. “Ramsay Shantos.”

  Man, she wasn’t kidding about Kazan being big. The guy would be a good contender in a sparring match with Ludan. Right now said contender had his arms crossed and glared at the hand Ramsay offered like it was the gravest insult he’d ever been given.

  “Dad,” Trinity whispered beside him.

  Kazan took the hand, giving it the extra squeeze Ramsay anticipated.

  Once the non-verbal male tango finished, Ramsay focused on Trinity. “Do you remember the way back to the castle?”

  She nodded, shuttling her attention between her dad and Ramsay.

  He squeezed her shoulder. “Do you feel safe flying back on your own?”

  “I think it’s smarter if I stay here.”

  Ramsay tried to hold back his smile, but the quick pinch of her eyebrows said he’d pretty much blown it. “Do you think I need protection?”

  Trinity leaned in, her voice an irritated grumble. “You don’t know how powerful my father is.”

  He edged even closer. “Is he a fair man? Reasonable?”

  She glanced at Kazan. “So far.”

  Ramsay chuckled at that, her protective kitten routine pouring a fresh layer of concrete on his already rock solid resolve. He kissed her forehead. “Then whatever happens will be as it needs to be. Now go.”

  Trinity worried her lip for a second and aimed a warning scowl at her father. “Please don’t—”

  “Trinity,” Ramsay said.

  Kazan’s eyebrow lifted.

  Why? Because Ramsay had cut her off, or to get her to finish the statement? Had to be the first option because he had to be able to hear her thoughts.

  “I’ll be in the library with Lexi,” she said.

  Of course she would. Every second she hadn’t been with him, she’d spent with Lexi, either learning new skills, or trying to help with the prophecy.

  She shot to the skies without the slightest hesitation, the same confidence Lexi had shown when she’d learned to fly.

  Ramsay turned in time to catch an unguarded splash of pride on Kazan’s face. “She caught on fast.”
r />   The hard mask slid back into place. “Of course, she did. She’s my daughter.”

  Ramsay had already caught a glimmer of the same determined attitude a time or two with Trinity. He hoped to histus it grew even stronger the more she learned to trust him. Going toe to toe with her for the rest of his life would be one heck of a ride.

  Now wasn’t about wishes though. It was about asking for what he wanted. “You already know my thoughts, but I’d dishonor her if I didn’t ask formally.”

  Kazan’s head tilted to an angle that screamed, “I dare you,” and his biceps flexed above his still crossed arms.

  Not a complete shut down, so that was promising. “I would give her my vow and have her for my mate if she accepts me.”

  “You don’t deserve her.”

  Something prickled at Ramsay’s thoughts. Something foreign. No, not foreign, more like forgotten. He homed in on it. “Is that a statement from a father sharing his honest opinion? Or a Spiritu nudging us away from a dangerous future by trying to piss me off?”

  “If I told you it was the latter, would it make a difference?”

  His mouth opened to toss out some smart-ass remark, but he shut it just as fast and let the question simmer. “That depends,” he said working through it out loud. “If it’s me doing the suffering, I’d take it to be her mate. If it’s her…”

  Inside, his emotions raged and burned, flaying him from the inside out. Is that what her dad was trying to tell him? That he’d finally found a woman worth risking his heart for, only to be told he can’t have her without hurting her?

  “No,” Ramsay ground out. “If it put her in danger, I wouldn’t claim her.”

  “But you’d stay with her.”

  Ramsay clenched his jaw so hard a sharp pain shot up the back of his head. “No. Not if it meant hurting her. I’d hang on to what she’s already given me and keep my distance.”

  Kazan glowered at him, not moving a muscle.

  Ramsay itched to move, his bloodstream flooded with so damned much adrenaline he thought he might combust at any moment. Praise The Great One, couldn’t the guy throw a punch or something? Maybe let loose some of those wicked powers?

  Kazan let out a resigned breath and unfolded his arms. “I want to mislead you. Want to do whatever it takes to keep you as far away from her as possible.”

  “For her safety?”

  “Yes.”

  Fuck. The guy hadn’t lifted a finger, but blasted his whole damned life to histus with a single word.

  “But you mating with her won’t change anything,” he added. “Her path is her own. Decisions will be placed in front of her whether you’re together or apart.”

  Air rushed into Ramsay’s lungs, and he rewound the last few sentences in his head to make sure he hadn’t misheard.

  “She wants you,” Kazan said. “If it means happiness for her as she faces the choices destiny gives her, then she should have it.”

  The world righted itself and the nearly drunken fury that had swamped him in less than two heartbeats eked, leaving him vibrating with relief. A cool wind whipped behind him, brushing against the fine sheen of sweat at his neck and chilling his skin. “Then you give your blessing?”

  Kazan’s lips tightened, then he nodded. “Though I should warn you, hurting her would be an act I would happily give up my existence to avenge.”

  Ramsay stepped forward, the certainty and power he’d felt days before with Trinity mushrooming up into something impenetrable. He offered his hand to the father of his would-be mate, assuming she’d have him. “Anything that is within my power to give is hers. Even if it isn’t, I’ll still try. She’ll have my vow and my protection.”

  Kazan studied his outstretched hand for the second time in less than ten minutes, this time with an entirely different expression. Maybe resignation, but could be worry too. Lifting his gaze to Ramsay, Kazan clasped Ramsay’s hand.

  A heady buzz rattled him head to toe.

  A second later Kazan released him and stepped back. His form started to fade.

  Ramsay lurched forward. “Wait.”

  Kazan’s image stabilized, partially gone, but still visible.

  “These decisions,” Ramsay said. “If she’s in danger, tell me. Help me protect her.”

  Kazan’s body wavered and the man hung his head in something Ramsay could only categorize as defeat. “That’s something you’ll have to figure out how to do on your own.”

  * * *

  Trinity propped her chin on one palm, elbow grounded on the library’s trestle table, and glared down at the open journal. The edges of the aged leather covers framed the ivory parchment, and bold masculine writing in smudged black ink scrolled down both sides.

  What was taking Ramsay so long? She’d been back more than an hour. Plenty of time for her dad and Ramsay to say whatever needed saying. Maybe she should go find Eryx and have him check things out. She’d never seen her dad that mad before. Heck, if Orla had thought to pack marshmallows, she could’ve roasted a few in the line of her dad’s death glare.

  A hand swiped between Trinity’s face and the book. “Hello?”

  Trinity jerked back and locked eyes with Lexi across the table. “Sorry. I was thinking.”

  “I can see that.” Lexi leaned over the table, craning her neck to see which journal entry she was on, then sat back down. “We already have that one deciphered, so I’m guessing you’re not thinking about translating.”

  Hardly. God, what if her dad thought she didn’t love Ramsay? He could read her mind as easily as anyone else’s. If she couldn’t admit it to herself, then why would her dad think anything different? She should’ve said something. At least stuck around to do what she could to protect Ramsay.

  “Wow.” Lexi snapped her fingers in front of Trinity’s face. “That’s twice in under a minute. Do you really think your dad’s gonna hurt him?”

  Trinity traced one of the symbols near the corner of the page. “I don’t know. I never had a boyfriend before. I couldn’t tolerate so much as holding hands growing up, and Mom wasn’t big on me dating anyway, so it’s not like I’ve got experience in the dad versus date thing.”

  Lexi rounded the table and slid onto the long bench next to her. She covered Trinity’s hand. “Do you believe in them?”

  “Individually, sure. Butting heads against each other, I have no idea.”

  “Pfft. Neither one of them is going to do anything that upsets you in the long run. You’ll see. Things always turn out like they need to.” Lexi grinned and patted Trinity’s hand. “Gotta admit, I kind of like imagining Ramsay tap dancing around someone more bad-ass than him, though. Monster Playboy versus Super Daddy.”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Ooo. Big words from the librarian.” Lexi waggled her eyebrows and pulled the journal out from under her hand. “Admit it. You’re not as tense as before, right?”

  Trinity half-chuckled and shook her head. “No, I guess not.”

  “All right then. Scoot up here close and we’ll kill time going over what we learned while you were out playing kissey-kissey.” Lexi pulled a tablet from the corner of the table beside the journal. “Remember how the earlier entries eluded to Myrens and humans being here at the same time?”

  Trinity nodded and shuttled her attention between the symbol Lexi pointed out and the translation she referenced on her right.

  “Well, the next few passages seemed to be about some kind of fight. Or a battle. That part’s fuzzy. But what’s cool, or scary as hell, depending on how you look at it, is this page seems to indicate that the wall between our world and Evad is fueled by someone’s powers.”

  Trinity leaned in closer, comparing the symbols to the translation tablets Eryx had gathered from the sacred libraries. “So, someone’s fueling them now?”

  Lexi shook her head and laid the tablet on top of the journal. “Nope. Someone gave their powers up to fuel it. Had something to do with the battle, but we haven’t tied together what it was yet.”


  Huh. “Then the wall is what, like the super power lottery win of a lifetime?”

  “Yep. Something like that.”

  Trinity stared at the journal, seeing it without really connecting. “And the prophecy’s about a new era for the race.”

  “Exactly.” Lexi scooted sideways on the bench with one leg crossed on the top of the honey-stained surface. “If someone were to find a way to retract the wall and claim the powers fueling it for themselves, it would definitely be a new era. And not necessarily a good one.”

  “Unless we find a way to prevent that from happening.”

  Lexi’s smile hopped to full bright. “I like the way you say ‘we.’ It’s got a nice ring to it.”

  The clunk of heavy metal on metal sounded a second before the double doors swung open.

  Trinity shot to her feet, her heart about two paces ahead of her as she rounded the long table.

  Ramsay strode through the opening, his gait purposeful but not at all frantic, eyes locked on her.

  She met him before he’d made it halfway to the table and wrapped him up tight, the odd slick-rough combination of his drast firm against her cheek. “You’re okay.”

  “Of course I’m okay.” Ramsay kissed the top of her head. “I’m sure I could find a way to make your dad decrease my lifespan, but today’s topic didn’t put that task on the short list.”

  Heavy footsteps sounded through the doorway.

  “Lexi, I need you to help me with something.”

  Eryx. Funny, they were twins and their voices were almost as identical as their appearance, but she could still tell them apart without the visual.

  “Sure, babe. Just give us a second. I was going over what we’d found with Trinity and—”

  The harsh halt to Lexi’s voice ripped Trinity’s head upright.

  Lexi frowned, her gaze lasered on Eryx. “Um…sure. Yeah.” She sidestepped from between the bench and table, closed the journal, and packed it with the tablet in the dark wood box. She took a few steps forward, glanced at Trinity, and stopped. “You know, maybe Trinity and I should have a quick word first.”