Free The Last of His Kind by Doris O'Connor Page B

wrath of the village upon my brothers and me. I escaped; my brothers were
slaughtered, as was my son."
    "Your
what? She killed your son?" Penelope's voice was a high pitched squeal,
and Doric winced. He nodded grimly.
    "I
told you no one would want to give birth to a monster. She'd cursed me into the
Loch
. I couldn't leave ever, not in my human
form and certainly not in my true form. The only way I could was if I found a
woman ready to accept me in my true form. I never thought it would happen, and
when I found the body of my son...I knew that I would rather stay the last of
my kind than risk that again. He was perfect, you know, just perfect, and your
kind killed him."
    The
words stung, even though Penelope knew it was his grief talking.
    "Not
my kind, Doric. Not all humans are that cruel. I couldn't do that to someone I
hated, let alone someone I love. You may not believe me, but I love you, all of
you. From your whole fishy dinosaur type self to your ‘drop your panties if you
just smile at me’ human self. I.Love.You. Do you hear me?"
    His
startled eyes sought hers, and Penelope smiled through her tears.
    "I
don't give two hoots about the likes of Euan, or what other people think, or
how often we may have to move, and I would love any children that we may have,
even if they come out with webbed feet and two heads, because they'll be ours.
You know why I came back to the
Loch
after all
these years? Because my mum told me to." She smiled at his frown. "I
think she knew all along that I met you that first day we got here. She used to
get visions, and she always told me to stay away from the water, yet she was
drawn to the
Loch
as much I was, and when she
died, she told me to come back and embrace my destiny. I didn't know what that
meant until now."
    She
took a deep breath and pushed her hair out of her face, suddenly unsure of how
he would take this news.
    "You
see, my family, too, has their tales. Traditionally the first females, like me
and my mum, we have powers. My mother used to say it was a connection to the
ancient forces of nature, and we have atoned for centuries for something one of
our distant cousins did. Their branch of the family embraced the dark arts, and
caused untold miseries, not only to your kind, but anyone they came into
contact with. I can’t be sure, and I really hope not, but that Antje may well
belong to that branch of our family. I'm so sorry; you must hate me now,
Doric."
    Doric
went so still she couldn’t be sure he was even still breathing. Dread settled
in her stomach like lead, and her insides clenched and knotted in fear. Not for
herself, but for causing Doric more pain. When he finally spoke his voice
trembled with barely suppressed emotion.
    "I
could never hate you. You're not responsible for what your ancestors did any
more than I am."
    He
smiled in wonder, his hands roaming over her body as though he was seeing her
for the first time, and Penelope held her breath.
    "I
guess that explains why I couldn't let the four-year-old you drown. I was drawn
to you even back then, and I knew I was in trouble when you didn't scream blue
murder."
    Penelope
smiled in remembrance.
    "I
thought you were the most beautiful, if rather wet, stuffed toy I had ever
seen." She giggled when Doric raised his eyebrows and tapped her ass playfully.
    "Stuffed
toy?" His affronted growl rumbled through her, and she nodded.
    "Well,
I was four. Give me a break. But I thought you had the kindest eyes. Every
summer we came back here I was hoping I'd see you again. But I never did."
    "I
watched you." He leaned in and inhaled deeply. "It broke my lonely
existence, watching you. I made sure you never saw me. I couldn't risk it.
Then, when you didn't come back for years…" He kissed her neck and smiled
at her moan in response.
    Penelope
grasped his shoulders and rubbed her breasts against his chest. He groaned and
ran a hand under her negligee to caress her breast. He flicked the nipple, and
Penelope started panting in