Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends #1)(82)

“What are you doing here, human?” His voice poured out deep and silky smooth.

Irritated that my subconscious decided to torture me, I laughed dryly. “Ha! Good question. When you find out, let me know.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly very aware of my nakedness and his extreme maleness. When I realized I couldn’t cross everything, and doing so would be hiding from my own fabricated fear, I dropped my hands, planting them on my hips, waiting.

He rotated around in slow motion. Those extraordinary wings arched further. An angular profile gave way to a strong jawline and high cheekbones when he squared off with me. Thick, ebony lashes lifted, flashing obsidian eyes that shifted into glittering sapphire emeralds. A bared chest and corded abdomen led to black leather pants that hugged tapered hips. Worn combat boots—in badass black, of course—had laces yanked to the perfect state of undone.

Deadly.

Gorgeous.

“Done assessing me like your next meal, female?” His gaze arrested mine as his head tilted down a notch, dark brows hooding those brilliant eyes.

“Pffft. You wish, Batman.” I laughed.

He dropped a scorching gaze down the length of my body, and chills covered every inch of my skin. My hands twitched as I fought the urge to shield my hardened nipples.

“Stupid woman. I could pin and f*ck you before you ever knew what hit you.”

“Oh, really? That phenomenal? Funny, I’d have pegged you longer than a ten-second slam.” I grinned, thoroughly enjoying the unexpected sparring match with my alter ego.

A low growl ripped from his throat. He flashed from feet away to a breath apart. My lips nearly brushed against the expanse of a heaving chest, my breasts one deep inhalation too close to the top of his abs. The abrupt toe-to-toe forced me to angle my head up to look into those hypnotic eyes. The winged manifestation of my mind had to be a good seven-and-a-half-feet tall.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine? Lil’ ol’ me ruffle your feathers?”

Something stopped him. He didn’t touch me, even though he could have shattered every bone in my body with a wrist flick. His nostrils flared, heated puffs fogging over my face.

Emboldened by the perceived restraint, I unfurled my cocky smartass flag to fly at full mast. “Sylvester got that tongue, Tweety?”

A pulse of fury actually reverberated through my body, and my smile faded. I swallowed down the taste of his rage, detecting notes of resentment with an aftertaste of chaos.

An additional voice sounded out. “Skorpius, is that any way to treat an honored guest?”

Sunshine stood his ground like carved marble, glaring down at me with those prismatic eyes.

Refusing to back down, I held my stance without a single blink.

“Skorpius.” The voice layered, a deeper, undeniable command penetrating the surface tone.

Sunshine snorted a final hot puff over my face and backed off, but only by arm’s length. Another leviathan stepped into view just beyond him. I leaned slowly to the right to see the newcomer.

Twins. Not identical, but brothers beyond a doubt.

I stared back and forth between the pair, amazed. In difference, they went polar opposite: brilliant day to darkest night, alabaster skin to tanned olive, platinum locks to inky jet. Wings of purest snow brushed against those of gleaming coal. The same chiseled facial features were softened by glistening silver eyes framed by gold lashes and brows. Bare-chested, and built in every way like his brother, he wore white linen pants and stood barefoot.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?” the newcomer asked.

Sunshine grunted. “Girl-That-Annoys-Me . . . Orion.” Every feather on those black wings shook—like a dog ridding his coat of water—as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Incredulous at the complexity of the dream, I laughed. “Seriously. Good angel, bad angel? Named for opposite Greek-god-inspired constellations in the sky?”

Orion shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, seeming to assess my worth as he visually sized me up. “So? We have a sense of humor.”

I grumbled, “As if you named yourselves.”

Impatient with the conversation with my psyche, my gaze wandered around the expanse of white mist, wondering when the scene would mirage into the next dream or a semi-aware self-analysis.

Orion’s pure voice spoke calmly. “Ms. MacInnes, if we uttered our given names, your eardrums would burst. And since you’ve inadvertently left the portal wide open, so would every piece of glass in your beloved Brodie Castle.”

“Right . . .” I slid a glance back toward them, playing along with the vivid dreamscape.

“What do you think of her?” Orion asked.

Sunshine tilted his head, shrugging. “Who am I to judge? She looks scrappy. Beneath her pixie, however, brews a volcano of attitude.”

I rolled my eyes. Never had my five-foot-nine ever been called anything resembling petite. “I would so kick your ass, Sunshine.”

He barked out a mocking laugh. “See? I rest my case.”

I waved my arms. “Hello, boys. Standing right here. Gonna talk about me? How ’bout we answer some of my questions. ’kay?”

They both smirked as if amused, or impressed.

“Go ahead, Ms. MacInnes,” Orion said.

“What’s with all the time travel, dropping me without notice—or my permission—anywhere you see fit? And what’s with Cupcake stealing the box away?” I nodded at Sunshine, trying so hard not to smile as he ruffled at yet another sugared nickname, but failed miserably, a short laugh escaping. I quickly pressed my lips together again, trying to behave.