Retribution

Chapter 1





Cannon Beach, Oregon

Karena’s Royal Suite





The first time Quin awoke to a gold and silver haze floating around him and Layla's naked bodies, conflicting emotions crashed over him, squeezing his heart as the organ soared. He'd received the most amazing gift life could give – she was tucked into his chest, her warm breath a tingling channel for the peace and desire she instilled in him – and he was beyond grateful for the gift, but wicked talons lurked in the shadows, threatening to swoop in and grab his angel away.

Everything had changed. The situation was completely different now, but the danger remained and had strengthened. He and Layla would never be able to live a risk free life. Overnight they'd become the most dynamic witch and wizard the world had ever known, and there was no doubt in Quin's mind they were the only two of their kind, making them a delicacy coveted by every evil magician in the world. And not only would wicked magic users want control over them; common magicians would view them as an intriguing freak show set up for the entertainment of others. The two of them might as well have targets painted on their backs.

Quin had already considered a life in hiding, and it wasn't an appealing idea. He loved his family and cherished his home. When his friends had been mentally preparing to someday leave their communities, he'd refused to consider it, telling himself it would take an angel to separate him from his coven. Well, he had his angel now, and he’d follow her anywhere, but she didn't want to leave either. And who the hell could blame her? She'd grown up with only one person to love and to be loved by. Now she had a whole slew of them, twenty-six people who’d give their lives for her; twenty-six people she’d die for. She'd just gotten her hands on it; of course she didn't want to let it go.

He looked down at her long, onyx spirals. Then he watched her peaceful aura flutter around them, holding more ribbons of color than any other aura he'd seen. Twenty-six of the distinguishable cords – those representing their coven – quivered and flowed a little faster than the rest, drawing attention away from the thinner and wispier strands. Then there was the thick band of sparkling dark-brown, which flowed like an espresso river sprinkled with pulsing stars, so bold and so substantial it looked tangible.

No, he didn't want to leave, but if that's what it would take to keep her from harm, that's what they’d do. The sacrifices would be difficult to make; they’d miss much of what life had to offer, but the emptiness would never compare to what they’d feel if they lost each other. Through all the worry and fear, every second they spent in each other's arms was a blessed second, and Quin would turn away from the rest of the world in a heartbeat to hold Layla’s breathing body against him.

Her aura continued to flow peacefully, but Quin knew that would change the moment she awoke and started worrying about the difficult decisions facing them. He despised the notion. He wanted her to wake up and feel the pure wonder of it, not the worry of it.

Taking a chance, he moved his arms from around her and replaced them with magic. Then he carefully floated her further up his body. She stirred, but he had no problem adjusting his spell to her movements. After catching a glimpse of her serene expression, he slowly rolled her over. Then he gently lowered her back to the bed. Her aura picked up speed when she made contact with the blankets, so he quickly formed his body to the back of hers and touched his lips to her ear.

“Layla, my perfect angel, are you ready to wake up?”

She smiled and stretched against him, then rolled back into a ball, but she didn't open her eyes or seem fully awake when she mumbled his name.

He gave her earlobe a nibble then moved his mouth to the back of her neck, listening as her sigh whispered across his pillow. He reached up, finding her parted lips with his fingertips. Then he trailed his hand down her torso, emitting soft shocks that twitched her stomach and vibrated her aura. When he got to her thighs, he slipped his hand between them, completely covering the smooth entrance to her body. Then a whoosh of magical warmth flowed from his palm, igniting sensitive nerve endings and jolting her awake.

Her arm flew behind her, frantically searching him out, and he abandoned her thighs to grab her hand. He pulled the inside of her wrist to his lips, kissing it until she relaxed. Then he stretched her hand over her head and placed it in his idle palm.

His freed fingertips trailed down her arm and side, finding their way to her inner thigh, and with a little tug, she was open to him, surrounding his erection with humid heat. His heart pounded against her shoulder blade as he lowered his lips to her ear. Then he whispered her name as he pushed inside her body, his passage tight and swollen from the night before.