Caught by The Dark A Werewolf - Alexa Michaels (001-093)

Table of Contents
Caught By The Dark | Copyright
Dedication
A Note From The Author
Prologue – The Man
Chapter 1 – Adélaïde
Chapter 2 – The Man
Chapter 18 – The Beast

Chapter 43 – Miroslav
Chapter 47 – Miroslav
Epilogue 1 – Miroslav
Epilogue 2 – Natasha
About The Author

Caught By The Dark
Copyright
Copyright © 2023 Chowen Publishing House LLC All Rights Reserved
Kindle Edition All Rights Reserved
Editor: North Pines Editing LLC
Cover photo and design: © Covers by Aura
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written
permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and
trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction,
which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these
trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the
trademark owners.
Dedication
To Dad.
Dad, I finally used the phrase creamy white thighs. Thanks for being the
cool dad who let me watch rated R movies as a kid and let me borrow
smutty books from the library as a teen. There’s probably a correlation
between those habits and the books I write. I couldn’t have done it without
you. XOXOXO, Tootie.
A Note From The Author
Dearest Reader,
This isn’t a fairytale retelling, or it never was meant to be that way from
the start. I’ve spent many hours contemplating the Beauty & Beast
archetype. I think all romances, especially the darker ones, all have a touch
of this story in them. Or maybe the original French masterpiece simplified
something fundamental, and now it’s always associated with that. Either
way, that topic for another time. As it stands now in this final version,
Caught By The Dark has Beauty & Beast flavor, but also a smattering of
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde—another masterpiece, which I implore you to
read!
The story you’re about to read isn’t the nicest story. What I mean is that
this is a dark romance—bad stuff happens or is mentioned. Let me explain
further. That is a broad statement, and has two distinct parts. Dark and
romance.
In my research, dark is a spectrum amongst writers we use to talk about
these things. This story is dark in that the world is dark. Bad things happen,
and fallible souls make mistakes. But I also worked hard not to make these
characters toxically dark, especially to one another.
Romance is romance. That means I’m taking two half-hearted people,
finding their other, and making them whole. If you’re here, expect spice as
part of that process.
In conclusion, this is a dark romance, so if certain content bothers you,
proceed with caution, because I did write something mature.
Thank you so much for selecting this humble little story as your next
read. I’m truly honored. Please enjoy.
Best regards, Alexa
Prologue – The Man
~Three Months Ago~
The door of my old truck creaked as I stepped out into the warm spring
afternoon. A shiver wracked through my muscles. The change was always
close at hand, right under the surface, and so long as the sun remained high
in the sky, I had the upper hand and the power to keep it at bay. But the
craving for destruction would eventually overwhelm me, pushing me to
take a back seat and observe him rage about all night long. The beast I was
cursed with knew not a shred of moral decency. The other werewolves, my
packmates, couldn’t imagine the soul-draining agony I went through daily
to suppress the villain who would hold me hostage for all time unless I
fought like mad when the sun shone bright.
“You made it!” Svet called out, hurrying from his back porch to where I
stood. My brother clapped me on the back, sending me staggering forward.
“Good to see you, too,” I ground out, rounding on him with an upper cut
to the abdomen. Svet crumpled, wheezing a laugh. “But I can’t stay long.” I
jerked a thumb at where the Louisiana moon hung low in the sky, waiting
for night to fall in earnest.
Svet rolled his eyes. “You’ve got a solid two hours before sunset.
Come! Eat, drink, and be merry.”
My chest tightened with unease as I stepped around the protective shield
that was my truck. Across the well-kept lawn was the meeting barn, where
the pack was gathering. The werewolves were streaming in groups toward
the great doors, which were thrown open, and the smells of food and sounds
of music enticed all to gather. We might originally be from northeast
Europe, but our pack adapted over the decades to crawdad boils here in the
swamps like we were born and bred on Southern soil in the States.
The pack was family. They were kind. Welcoming. They loved me
despite my curse. But as I approached them, the usual feeling that it was
wrong to receive their good-natured acceptance crept up my throat like
acid. Guilt weighed heavy on my chest.
A monster like me doesn’t belong here.
But they wouldn’t let me sit at home and wallow.
Walking up to the long picnic table outside the shelter of the great red
structure, I accepted an ice-cold beer from my brother. While I would much
prefer something harder, I needed to drive back to my property. At the rate
my body metabolized alcohol, one beer was the same as a bottle of water.
“You said there was something you wanted to tell me.” I spoke low,
leaning close to my brother. “Do we need to step inside your house?”
“It would look rude to leave the party.” Svet clenched his teeth in a tight
smile. The gutted barn that was strung with glittering lights was on the
property next to his house. As alpha, he was always central to pack life. But
his house, unlike many homes sprawled through the back country, was
soundproof, warded with spells our shaman carved.
“Svetovit,” I warned. “If it has to do with my...predicament, you know I
hate making the aspects of my situation public knowledge.”
“The pack is family,” my brother mumbled, but turned away. Together,
we retreated from the gathering and jogged to the back steps of his house.
He paused at the door to wave to Queen Consort Astasia, who was walking
up to the meeting barn with a basket of fresh biscuits. Our stepmother
smiled fondly after us but didn’t interrupt, for which I was grateful.
“Alright, satisfied?” Svet croaked when the door closed tight.
I waved my hand for him to proceed, tipping the beer to my lips.
“Bogdana cast the bones this afternoon and called me straight away.”
From the way my brother’s black eyes lit up, I already knew where this was
going. He’d spoken with our shaman, and they’d cooked up some plan.
“She is confident the end is finally approaching for your curse.”
I let out a long sigh. What I was going to say would hurt my older
brother. “The knuckle bones led us down a rabbit hole once before.”
The whole pack had been behind Bogdana’s prediction. Everyone
pitched in to hunt for the mystical means to break my curse. When the
chase gave out, when the hearts of my kin were broken, I made the shaman
swear to never again broadcast the results of her findings.
“She still insists that they were correct the last time, but that our timing
was off.” Svet wouldn’t be dissuaded.
“What did the damn bones say this time?” I bent, letting him have a
moment to display his excitement.
The beast stirred under the surface. A malicious glint flashed through
my veins, but since I was the master of day, I squashed it.
“Bogdana read there is a daughter of the sun, one with a vědmák as an
ancestor.”
That was new information. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but it was
hard not to be intrigued.
“And...there’s a blood moon coming up in twelve weeks.” Svet crossed
his arms over his chest, a smug smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
Fucking hell, didn’t I know it. Ever since the first time Bogdana read
the information about the blood moon in her bones, I marked the calendar
every time there was such a celestial event. That was five years’ worth of
orange-tinged moons.
“Did the bones say where this female is?” I retorted, letting anger and
futility bat down the fickle flames of hope. I’d been disappointed so many
times before.
“It’s not hard to find out,” Svet responded. “I’ll find her, I swear it, and
we’ll break this curse. Once and for all.” I sighed, but he continued, “I need
you, little brother. Here, by my side. I’m the ruler, but I’m only half that
without my sword.”
It was always the same. Svet refused to take another as second-in-
command because it was my birthright. The dangers in the swamp were
frequent enough that we needed the chain of command to be organized
appropriately. And since I couldn’t change form, and I had to be on my
property before sunset, I wasn’t dependable.
“There are many in the pack who would die for you,” I said with a bite
in my tone.
“They’re not blood,” Svet insisted.
My brother had never once stopped fighting for me even though I gave
up long ago. Looking now at his haggard expression, I felt a pinch in my
gut. Svet had obliged my most desperate request once. I could still feel his
knife sliding across my throat. With my blood drenching the earth, he’d
sworn that we would break this curse, since death would never let me
escape it. He’d vowed to never stop trying. I couldn’t sit back now and let
him struggle alone. So I agreed with his plan. “Let’s find Bogdana’s girl. If
it doesn’t work—”
“If not, we keep trying.” Svet slapped me on the back.
“Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want the pack to get their hopes up.”
“Always with the secrecy!” But Svet was grinning.
I pray I don’t let you down, brother.
Stomach full of good food, and heart lightened by the laughter of my pack,
I rolled my truck into the garage. Cutting the engine, I dropped my head
onto the steering wheel. There was a generous half-hour before sunset,
since my paranoia forced me to always be home early.
Another long night lay ahead of me. It’s been an eternity.
Gathering the mail from the passenger seat, I drug myself out of the
truck, glancing at the tuner car I washed and waxed this morning. It was a
beautiful ride, but there wasn’t time to do more than cast a longing glance
over the sleek surface before exiting the garage. I secured the great door,
checking that the protection runes were still carved. It was damn near
ritualistic to trace my fingertips over them. The beast destroyed anything in
its path; it was almost funny how the little chicken scratches could ward
him away.
I dumped the mail on the kitchen table, flipping through the pieces.
Something dark and volatile lurched through my chest, and I sprawled
forward onto the table, panting at the sudden onslaught. The beast wanted
out. His roar shattered through my mind, causing a pulsing headache right
behind my eyes. I breathed through the pain and tightened my grip on
control. The curse was inescapable, but at least these spasms gave me
plenty of warning when the twilight battle would take place. Prepared to
abandon the mail and go finish my preparations for sunset, one of the
envelopes caught my eye.
My blood heated in sharp spikes of rage.
“Another one,” I shouted to the empty kitchen, fists clenching and
wanting to pummel the mysterious sender. It took several deep breaths to
master the rage.
Time slowed. As if in a trance, I watched myself open the letter, fingers
shaking with barely contained wrath. Svet would laugh if he saw how easily
these letters set me off.
Svet would kill me for not telling him about them.
Run, run, run as fast as you can.
I’ll still catch you, because I’m the hunter man.
“Great, more bad rhyming.” Except my snarky comment, while spoken
aloud to bolster my spirits, couldn’t chase away the chill that penetrated my
soul. This was the fourth such missive I’d received in the last four weeks.
My covert attempts to track down the source had failed. While I wanted to
chalk these up to being a prank, their ominous tone and blatant threats
couldn’t be ignored.
Of course, unless the sender was the one who’d cursed me, whoever it
was didn’t know that I couldn’t be killed.
And it wasn’t from lack of trying.
Bringing the paper to my nose, I inhaled deeply. Coffee beans, silt soil,
and cooking herbs hid any more unique scents. There was no scent trail,
same as the previous letters. It was becoming convincingly obvious: I had a
stalker. At least if the person was crazy enough to come during the night,
the beast would take care of him. I was annoyed enough after this letter to
consider shooting the fool on sight if ever I could find the stalker.
Although the new development had been enough to distract me for a
few minutes, another bone-shattering spasm rippled through my frame.
Fisting the paper, I took it to the decorative tin can on top of the cabinets in
the butler’s pantry and put it inside. I made short work of removing my
clothing, setting it on the table with a bottle of water and a small dessert
dish full of aspirin, vitamins, and herbs rolled into pill form.
There was nothing else to do but go outside because, no matter if I liked
it or not, at sunset the beast was coming out to play. My life was a living
hell. As I paced the yard without a stich of clothing on, I considered Svet’s
revelation. The definition of a curse was an unbearable situation. I had no
choice but to bear it. The misery was such a part of my life that pessimism,
ugly and black, rotted my heart. I was told I had to pay; every night, the
beast made sure that I did.
A walnut branch scraping against my window woke me from a dead sleep. I

didn’t need to move the chic, lacy curtains to know that sound. Midnight
fingers caressed the panes as thick emerald leaves fluttered in the light
breeze. They rustled and shivered in delight. Nothing out there was going to
hurt me. The walnut was my guardian. I’d planted it from a seed and fed it
potions to make it grow into the mighty, damn near sentient monument that
it was. I let out a ragged breath and flopped onto my side. Thanks to Julgan,
I would now have to work hard to fall back asleep. That was what I got for
naming a tree.
Think about Margot and the monster.
I snorted. With any luck, yesterday would be the last time I would see
those warriors from Serrano. Just because it was the second time meeting
the shade, it wasn’t easier. No, hours earlier, his...shadowy companion had
been present. A shudder of revulsion trailed down my spine as I thought of
the nightwalker, and my whole body twitched. For the sake of the missing
girls around New Orleans, I hoped they acted fast once my sister went to
their aid. In my vision, I’d seen that monster and her becoming friendly as
they saved all the supernatural virgins. Interacting with that creature was
Margot’s destiny—thankfully not mine! The nightwalker was going to end
up close to my soul’s sister. A potential mate. A dedicated lover.
No, talking to the shade and meeting the monster made of malice and
shadows wasn’t what bothered me. It was impatience that kept me tossing
and turning.
Why hasn’t he come yet?
Dammit!
Now that I’d thought about him there would be no turning my mind off
until every detail was hashed out. I settled in, snuggling deeper under the
duvet to reexamine the puzzle pieces Fate had shown me. Was it insanity to
wait for a mystery man who was somehow linked to the house I’d dreamed
about for the last twenty years? Probably. As history showed, Fate wasn’t
always kind to psychics, and our premonitions made us seem crazed. But I
didn’t care how silly it sounded—not if it had to do with that house.
I’ll finally go home.
That house was a constant in my life. I knew I would get there someday.
But recently, I’d seen the path. And it all hinged on a male who was a
figment in the darkness. He needed my help. The only other clue I’d seen
was that it would all happen before a blood moon. According to my
calendar, there was one coming soon. The conclusion I’d drawn from the
visions was that if I helped him, then he would lead me to the house or
maybe it would be my payment for helping. That technicality was still
fuzzy. My fingers caressed my favorite stuffed bear. Home. It had been a
long time coming.
Who was he? Even in the more recent dreams, I couldn’t see the
stranger clearly. I just knew that whoever he was, he would take me to my
forever home. For an orphan, it was a dream come true. For that reason
alone, I felt friendly toward him.
“I can’t wait to meet you,” I whispered into the dark.
There was another tap as something brushed against the glass pane.
That was definitely more than the walnut tree.
Tap. Tap.
Scrape.
Fear flickered in my gut. Something was out there. Clutching my duvet
tight, I debated screaming for Barbara—the matron who ran the
supernatural children’s home I’d grown up in. But I kept my mouth shut. If
the noise was nothing and I woke her, I didn’t want to deal with her cranky
old ass. A berserker might make a temperamental guardian, but the
orphanage was never in danger with her strength and fighting abilities at
beck and call.
The sounds stopped.
The protective wards! I breathed a sigh of relief. There couldn’t be
anything out there. Even if something had broken onto the property,
breaking the wards would have alerted the proprietress. Still, if something
was outside my window, Barbara would dash in here any moment—or
maybe she was already outside dealing with it?
Too active of an imagination. That was my problem. Eyes peeled wide,
I stared hard at the empty twin bed across from mine. If Margot was here,
my soul’s sister would have a gut feeling to reassure me that everything was
alright. But she just had to move out the moment she came of age, and now
she wanted me to run away with her, to ramble over the world and explore
cities far away. I sighed. That wasn’t my future, and as much as I loved her,
it would hurt her to learn I wanted something else. Any day now, I would
seize the opportunity to take what my heart desired most. The blood moon
was seven days away.
This time, the noise was glass sliding open.
I’m not imagining this! Taking a deep breath and steeling my resolve, I
sat up and turned to face the dormer window. My heart nearly exploded.
A huge male was sneaking through the opening.
I tried to scream, but it just sounded like a dying cat.
At the strangled noise escaping my lips, the intruder tripped through the
rest of the way. “Oh, shit! You’re awake. Please don’t worry, I won’t hurt
you!”
That voice.
I knew that voice. It didn’t sound quite right, but it could be his low
tone? This man was freakishly similar to the mystery man I’d seen. With
that realization came another thought that had my heart bounding faster
than a race car at Daytona.
Is this really it? “Who are you?” I demanded, forcing down the jolt of
fear with a heavy dose of curiosity.
“Please don’t scream.” He padded forward, the anxious tone
immediately striking a chord in my chest.
I shouldn’t have sympathetic feelings about stranger coming into my
room. I should be shouting and yelling like mad for Barbara! And yet, I’d
heard that voice before—in a vision. I reached to yank on my frilly bedside
lamp, fingers bumping into the worn pair of ballet slippers. The cozy light
fell across the man who was crouched, hands up, three feet from my bed.
He had dark hair longer on the top but faded short on the sides, sharp
black eyes, and a rich tan that looked more natural than sun induced. But
that body—such a powerful build. Fear lumped in my throat. I didn’t want
this brute as my enemy, no matter what effort he was making to assuage me.
He’s so familiar—but not quite right. “What’s your name?” I whispered.
“Svetovit, but you can call me Svet. Why—why aren’t you screaming?”
He raked a hand through his buzzed hair.
I snorted a soft laugh. “I should be, shouldn’t I? But I won’t if you
promise not to hurt me.”
“Well, I can’t promise that.” Svet crossed his meaty arms over his chest
and rose to tower over my bed. “Adélaïde Volkov, I’ve come to sequester
you on official Blackwater Pack business. You’re coming with me, little
lady. Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”
This wasn’t the man from the visions. The details were off. And yet....
Tipping my head to the side, I considered the male. “You look like him—
but you’re not. Do you have a relative—a brother or cousin—who sounds
freakishly similar to you?”
The giant opened his mouth. No words came out. And then he clapped
those lips closed. Obviously, I wasn’t behaving as he expected me to.
“How did I know about him? Yeah, that’s kinda my thing,” I murmured.
Swinging my legs out of the bed, I drew a crocheted throw over my
shoulders to hide the fact I was only in a lacy nightgown. The rag tie curlers
bounced around my head, and as I slipped my feet into dainty slippers, I
knew I looked like something out of by-gone eras. I quickly ripped the
curlers from my head, and placed them inside my white washed nightstand.
“What are you doing?” he warned, shifting his stance to always be
facing me as I moved about the room.
“Well, you’ve come to collect me on his behalf I assume, and since
there is a blood moon in a week, we’d best get going.” I peeped back at him
as I made my bed, tucking in the corners and folding the top down flat.
“So you really are a seer.” Svet let out a short, harsh laugh of disbelief.
“Something like that.” I jerked my thumb at the bifold doors of the
closet. “Be a dear and fetch my valise? I’ll only be a moment.”
“Waait—wait, just a damn minute, missy. I’m abducting you.”
“Okay—” I threw up my hands “—call it what you want. I’m coming
with you now that you’re finally here, and nothing you say or do will
change that.”
“You’re just letting me kidnap you?” he stammered.
“Yep. Already packed and ready. I knew someone was coming for me.”
I pointed at the closet with an impatient gesture. “But it’s in poor taste,
don’t you think, with all the supernatural girls disappearing around New
Orleans?”
“Oh, right. We’ve had news about that. Terrible business; I hope
whoever’s behind it is caught soon.” Svet pulled at the back of his neck.
They would be. But that wasn’t my adventure.
Walking to the antique chaise lounge, I paused. “Where have you been
that you sound surprised?”
“Deep in the bayou,” was the clipped answer. “I’ll grab your...valise.
What’s a valise?”
“An old fashioned word for suitcase.” I hid my smile.
The man nodded once.
“Thank you,” I chirped and grabbed my clothes set out for tomorrow off
the lounge, where I was in the habit of laying them out each night. My
fingers brushed against the mauve velvet, and a shiver rolled over my skin.
This was it! My mystery man must be part of a pack—it could be any
number of supernatural species.
Svet moved with an ethereal grace. It made him seem more animal than
not. He also didn’t turn his back to me but kept me always in his sights.
With a laugh, I slipped behind the changing screen and only when I risked a
peep to see that he was busy with the luggage did I slip into the full maxi
skirt and peasant blouse. As a habit, I folded my nightgown and tucked it
under my pillow and smoothed the crocheted throw at the foot of bed after I
made it.
“So...you’re really coming with me?” Svet asked cautiously.
Tying my hiking boots onto my feet—thankful Margot made me own
them in case there was rough terrain in the bayou—I nodded. “Of course!
But you could have approached me in broad daylight, explained your
situation, and I would have come willingly. There wasn’t any need to sneak
into my room and abduct me.”
“Yeah, sorry about all this.” Svet rubbed the back of his neck again. “In
my defense, we’re really desperate.”
“I know.” I let out a long sigh. “I’ve been waiting for you—or him.
Who is he?”
“My brother.”
I rolled my hand in the air, inviting him to elaborate.
Svet just shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.”
“Urgh fine!” I threw up my hands. “Let’s go.”
Svet stepped toward my bedroom door, but I scooted in front of him,
hissing sharply. “What are you doing?!”
Those bushy dark brows drew together. “Leaving?”
“Out the window.” There was no need to tack on the Are you stupid?
sentiment. That was implied.
Svet looked between me and the door. With a shrug, he turned and went
back to the window. Except, he paused. “Ladies first.” Those dark brows
waggled.
I rolled my eyes. He most likely wasn’t being gentlemanly. This was so
that I couldn’t slam the window closed behind him. “I really do want to
help him. Your brother. I...didn’t see much, but what I did was enough for
me to pack a bag and wait impatiently for one of you to show up.”
“Prove it,” Svet hummed, hurrying me out the window with a wave of
his hand.
The walnut bowed, sweeping its branches over me in a tender caress. A
touch and whispered word of kindness was all it took for the limbs to shiver
in delight. Maybe I can replant this in my home. There were witches who
could do it for an enormous fee. I might just have to content myself with
coming back to visit.
“I’ll be back, my darling,” I murmured, and then gripped the fascia
board as I turned. It wasn’t the first time I’d climbed onto the porch’s roof
and shimmied down the trellis.
Making short work of the descent, I waited breathlessly in the yard. The
night was cloudy so I could barely make out Svet’s shape as he angled
through the window, paused to shut it, and crossed the shingles, skeletal
fingers of Juglan snapping at his heels. Ignoring the tree, Svet didn’t bother
climbing. He jumped.
“What are you?” I hissed.
“You foresaw my arrival, but you don’t know what we are?” A smirk
pulled at the corners of his mouth.
But now was not the time to play games. I anxiously looked around him
and fidgeted. “Let’s go. We can talk when we get away from here.”
“My truck’s parked a block down the road.”
I had to jog to keep up with the brute, who mercifully carried my
luggage. There was a faint, woodsy smell that rolled off him. But something
primal, damn near animalistic, underlaid the scent. I knew that if I reached
out and touched him, I would no doubt get a good read on what he was.
I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to see that.
The truck was glossy even in the moonless night. It might be vintage,
four decades old at least, but the bright, iridescent beetle-green paint was
fresh, and the chrome details were polished.
Svet stepped around me and opened the door. Foot on the running
board, I paused. “Thanks for making this a pleasant kidnapping,” I said.
“Thanks for not screaming bloody murder and making my night twice
as difficult as it had to be.” Svet grinned back.
We were going to get along splendidly. I didn’t need to be a psychic to
know that. Reaching inside to pick up a work rag, I intended to toss it over
onto the bucket seat.
Blood dripping from manic faces. Clawed fists raised to punch. Four
hybrid lupine-humanoids were sparring, shredding, and beating one
another to a pulp for...fun.
A shudder wracked my body as I leaned forward onto the seat.
“Werewolves—” I gasped, stomach roiling from the mix of emotions
I’d just experienced firsthand. “You’re freaking werewolves! And you beat
the shit out of each other.”
Svet gaped in awe at me, eye open wide. “How did you do that?”
I held up the rag, the dark stains clearly blood. “I can get images from
objects. Nasty little gift that makes me relive strong emotions. Like brutal
brawling at underground fight clubs.”
“It’s not a fight club,” Svet mumbled sheepishly. “Training for combat
keeps us sharp. If an enemy arises, males—and females—rise to the
occasion to defend their homes and pack.”
I nodded, still trying to swallow the aftershock of the violence. “Great,
just great.”
“Are you reconsidering?” His arched brow dared me to be honest.
Body aching with the relived memory, I pursed my lips. My home is
worth it. “Never.”
Werewolves. Why did it have to be werewolves?! I collapsed into the
truck. Once I was securely in the seat, I clasped my hands in my lap. I
didn’t want to touch anything else if possible. But since these were
creatures who bloodied each other regularly, there might not be any help for
it.
“Here,” Svet said as he opened his driver’s side door. A small object
flew across the space and landed in my lap. It was a beautiful pendant on a
leather cord. I looked at it with skepticism and refused to touch it.
“What is it?” I snapped my head to look at him. The tight, messy curls
smacked into my head, and I absently wished I could have fixed them pretty
before leaving.
“A charm,” Svet explained. “So long as you wear that, they won’t know
where you are.”
I let out a short laugh.
“What’s so funny?” the werewolf asked as he climbed into the truck
seat and started the engine.
“This whole situation. It’s like we were on the same page from the
start.” I bound the necklace to my throat.
“How so?”
The pieces of vision told me I would go to the brother, that I would help
him with some problem. And so, I didn’t want anything getting in my way.
I needed to do this, but there were people in my life who wouldn’t
understand that. They loved me, but they were overprotective.
I fingered the pendant. There was no rush of images, which had my
shoulders relaxing. “You’re going to let me do the one thing I need to do.”
The one thing that will take me home.
Svet just laughed. “Let’s go, Shirley Temple.”
I fluffed at the mess of curls, embarrassment flooding through me as we
drove off into the night. Fate was cruel. Was it too much to ask for a bit
more of a heads up so I didn’t try new product in my hair the very same
night my future started?
What did you do, big brother? I staggered out of the woods, inhaling
deeply. My yard was perfumed with a stranger’s scent. A female, not
entirely human. She wore an oil made from a bouquet of wildflowers on her
skin. But there was a spicier scent that was all her lurking under the exotic
nod to nature. She reminded me of a sharp, citrusy white wine. I could get
drunk on that.
The beast growled in approval.
The bastard. I wanted to punch him, even though it was physically
impossible. Instead, I shoved him harder into the recesses of my mind. He
wasn’t going to interfere in whatever was happening.
Pausing just inside the tree line, I scanned the house. There was a
shadow of movement through the back window. They were in my kitchen.
It wasn’t as though they’d been there long; Svet wasn’t stupid enough to
come until after sunrise. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I debated how to
approach this.
Cuts covered my body. The shallow ones were already pinkish scars.
But the deep ones would need to be cleaned and the ointment from Bogdana
used to prevent infection. We might be immortal unless killed, but it didn’t
mean a nasty infection couldn’t lay us up for weeks on end. Something my
taxed strength couldn’t handle.
With a sigh of resignation, I crossed the yard and pushed the door open.
Leaning my arm against the frame, skin touching the protective runes, I
took in the bare, albeit clean kitchen. Svet shook his head. My brother let
out a frustrated breath and turned sharply on his heel into the living room. I
ignored him. It was the pretty little redhead I zeroed in on. “Well, hello,
little one. What’s a dainty morsel like you doing out in these wicked, wild
woods?”
“Listening to some bad alliteration from the male who needs my help.”
She put her hands on her hips, eyes meeting mine without flinching. They
were the most illustrious shade of grey with flecks of green in them.
She might put on a strong front, but I caught the rosy hue on her cheeks.
The rounds of her ears were damn near fire hydrant red.
Not used to naked men? That thought had a warm possessiveness flaring
in my chest.
“Cover yourself up, Miro.” Svet returned and tossed a blanket at me.
“Seriously? Where the hell are your manners?”
“A man’s the lord of his castle. If I want to walk around without a stitch
of clothing, that’s my prerogative.”
“Miro!” Svet snapped.
I wrapped the blanket around my hips, noticing how the woman’s sharp
gaze skated over my chest, dipping lower for a half-second. Quickly, she
turned back to the stove without meeting my stare.
Big mistake, red.
“He’s not wrong,” the petite beauty muttered. “I don’t really expect
anything more from a werewolf.”
Ouch! “You wound me.” I sauntered into the room, letting the door fall
closed with a heavy bang.
“Really? A mite like me wounding a big, bad boss wolf like you?” She
flicked a glance at me before shifting the pan with her wrist. “Might want to
rethink your strategy, castle man.”
“What is happening?” Svet muttered under his breath. The woman’s
hearing wasn’t sharp enough to pick it up, but I did.
“Where are your manners, brother?” I gestured magnanimously.
“Introduce us!”
“Addi, this is my younger brother Miroslav.” Svet scowled at me. “This
is our seer, who you’re going to be very, very nice to.”
The beauty moved across the kitchen with the grace of a dancer.
Something primal tugged deep in my chest, and I had to turn away because
I did not understand the reaction.
“A redheaded psychic, how original! Like we haven’t tried that—what
was it? A hundred years ago?”
“You don’t have to be such a dick. You agreed to this,” Svet lashed
back.
Because I’m tired and hungry. You don’t have a curse draining you
every night, dear brother. You don’t know the torment of this agony. All the
things I wanted to shout at my brother, I swallowed. It wasn’t fair to him.
He saw me, he knew what I went through. I just wished he knew how
degraded, how physically brutal it felt, how mentally broken I was from
being so powerless. But I would never wish this experience on him. It was
the protective side of me that was grateful it was me and not him that
suffered.
So instead of griping or snapping, I agreed with him. “You’re right. I
did agree to this idea, no matter that it’s a snowflake’s chance in hell.
Alright, seer, what do you see.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Addi brought the chipped trivet to the table
and set the pan full of cooked sausages on it.
“Great, an oracle that doesn’t work.” I plucked a piping piece of meat
from the pan and grinned down at her as she fumed at my bad manners.
“I work just fine!” Addi snapped. “I saw you in the shadows, and I saw
something important happen around the time of the blood moon. I’m part of
whatever that is, and I wanted to come help you. All you had to do was
ask!”
“Wait,” I laughed, holding out a palm at both of them. “My brother
didn’t ask you?”
“Technically, no. He kidnapped me.”
Svet stammered, hands raised in defense.
But I lost the playful air. “Really, big brother? With all the terrible
stories coming from New Orleans, you thought it was smart to kidnap our
seer?”
“I just wanted to talk to her! I was so excited when I found her that I
couldn’t wait till morning. You know me: act fast, deal later.”
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask. How did you get around the wards at the
orphanage?” Addi angled herself to speak to Svet. She didn’t seem in
physical distress over the situation.
I still saw red. I’m going to kill him for this.
The beast stirred inside, creeping closer to the mental barrier that kept
him locked away during the day. He was restless from his lost battle at
dawn, not done with his reign of terror that spanned the dark hours.
Violence and lust—they called to him like a siren’s hymn.
I swallowed hard, breathing slow to calm the ire in my veins. It was
daylight. I could deal with Svet in a calm, rational manner. I have dominion
over the light.
The beast snorted, mocking me by curling down to watch the
proceedings from my own eyes. Sharing a body with a monster was the
definition of a living hell.
“Your guardian is a berserker,” Svet was explaining to Addi.
“Geographically, we come from the same neck of the woods in northern
Europe. Her marks were ones I was familiar with. A few drops of blood,
etching new lines into the runic script. It was easy to slip past her wards.”
Svet shrugged.
“Who knew the orphanage was protected by something so flimsy.” Addi
shook her head in disgust.
“No, they’re strong wards. Few supernaturals would know the trick to
change them. Most would try to break through, which would be as hard as
surviving in hell. And if they did, they would unleash the she-devil. The
orphans are safe, Addi.”
With a humph, Addi gestured to the food. “Well, let’s eat, and then we
can discuss the plan to help Miroslav with—?”
She didn’t even know what she was here for. I snorted and plucked
another link of meat from the pan. “I’m full of woods, dirty swamp water,
and deer guts. I’m going to go shower.”
“We’ve got a lead and you want to shower?” Svet scoffed. He took the
chair across the table and spun it, sitting down by straddling it backward. “I
thought you wanted this curse broken. To help me solidify my reign as
alpha by taking your place at my side in our kingdom!”
You believe in each chance to break this curse so fiercely, brother. I
can’t bear to see you disappointed again. “Feed her. I’ll be back down
shortly,” I clipped.
A flicker of hurt flashed so quickly through her beautiful face that I
nearly missed it.
As I passed her chair, I leaned down and whispered, “It smells really
fucking good. Don’t let him eat it all, red. I’m...starving.”
Her soft gasp filled my ears as I jogged to the back staircase, dropping
the blanket on the first couple of steps. They creaked under my weight, the
wood old and well worn. Only one of the bedrooms was furnished with a
functioning bathroom. I rubbed my chin. Did my idiotic brother intend for
her to stay here? Where was she going to sleep?
Did it matter? I was never home at night. And the thought of her curled
in my bed wasn’t abhorrent. Not only did I like her scent, but I liked the
first impression of that little dove. She moved about the kitchen like a bird,
the way she was flighty and sensual. A selfish part of me wanted to keep
this oracle around. She was feisty, but there was an innocence around her,
like some of the flowers out in the garden.
“The idiot tried to kidnap her.” I slammed my bedroom door a little too
forcefully. Svet was clearly desperate going to these lengths to save me.
I glanced at myself in the mirror. It was hard to believe there was a
monster inside me, but if my inability to change forms wasn’t evidence
enough, the destruction out in the woods and swamp of this property was.
The beast left my body ravaged. I could sleep for an eternity and not be
rested.
The blast of heat from the shower beckoned me, but I paused as I heard
the tinkling of laughter. That woman...she was breathtaking. Maybe hope
isn’t such a bad thing to have.
My body mocked me with a spasm of pain.
The cross breeze from the open windows replaced the chilled air I was used
to in the orphanage. Otherwise, this place was perfect. And I happened to
like the hot, sultry weather of the deep south. I would trade a thousand
modern conveniences to be here. This house. This place from my dreams
was real, and I was here...with a pair of werewolf brothers. One of whom
was gorgeous, and yes, I’d snuck a peep. Miro was naked, after all, having
been running around out there in his hybrid wolf form. He was the one from
my visions, not that those blasts from the future had prepared me for the
glorious sight of his tight, sculpted rear. The cherry on top of this
convoluted situation was the naked one owned my house. Somehow, I was
going to help Miro. Fate, however, wasn’t clear in her instruction
concerning destiny.
The giddy rush of endorphins still flooded my veins. I’d pushed back
and carefully concealed the waves of delight at seeing this house in person
for the first time after dreaming about it for so long. Oh, this house was
going to become my home. But the how and when didn’t need
complication; they couldn’t know that this place would become mine—they
might make trouble for my acquisition.
I refused to look after where the nude male was thumping up the stairs,
blanket dropped on the bottom steps. However, from the corner of my eye,
the twig that had fallen from his hair was very noticeable. I counted to ten
in my head. I don’t need to pick up after him. If he wanted to bring the great
outdoors inside, who was I to stop him? Fisting my hands and pretending to
ignore the stick lasted only thirty seconds.
Pushing my chair back, I leaned over to grasp the twig. My fingers
wrapped around the piece of wood, no bigger than my pinky. The contact
immediately had my pulse racing as the dandelion-tinged images consumed
my mind, forcing my body to relive the past experience which was strong
enough to leave an imprint on a piece of nature. From somewhere far away,
I heard myself fall off the chair.
But it didn’t matter. A brutal terror was after me—me as a deer.
Breathing labored, I tried to outrun the beast. The roar chased me, the soft
ground trapped my hooves. Panic swelled, and I snorted in a furious effort
to free myself. Too late! Vicious tearing rent the air as pain consumed me.
My muscle and sinew shredded in such a way that I didn’t die immediately.
Minutes were spent in agony under the teeth and claws of the violent brute.
The beast wanted me to...suffer.
The werewolf wanted to inflict pain.
I wasn’t a meal, I was a being to be preyed upon. Something to work off
that terrible anger.
Blinking back tears of horror, the bright tint disappeared, taking away
the animal’s experience. I took a second look at the twig and saw blood.
The deer’s blood. I’d just relived the dreadful final moments of that poor
animal. While it might not be a sentient creature, the cervine animal had
been terrified out of its mind. The glimpses of the monster I’d seen from its
point of view—
“Addi!” Svet was crouched across from me. He’d been calling me,
worry wafting off him like a bad perfume.
Reality slammed back into me, and I blinked up at him. It took a few
moments to form a sentence.
“What is he?” Voice hollow, I pointed a shaking finger up the stairs.
“What did you see?” the pack alpha carefully asked.
I blew out a long breath, trying to regain my composure. “Miro isn’t
like you.”
Svet nodded carefully. “He’s not. And that’s because he’s cursed. He
isn’t in control of his other form. A monster is.”
“And that’s why I’m here.” Even as I said it, terror induced self-survival
screamed at me to flee. What was I thinking in wanting this?! I’d been
dreaming about this man for months, and now that I was finally here, saw
the rest of the picture so to speak, I was kicking myself for wanting this so
much.
But despite the maliciously driven brute I’d just felt make ribbons of my
flesh—the deer’s flesh—I needed to stay, to see this through. This was how
I finally found my way home. How this house would become mine, I didn’t
know. But I wasn’t going to let a nightmare stop me.
Which proved how insane I was.
I swallowed hard. “Okay, so he’s possessed?”
“You want to run.” It wasn’t the answer to my question. There was hurt
deep in Svet’s dark eyes.
“That werewolf is unhinged.” My whisper betrayed the horror still
screeching through my mind after experiencing the deer’s fate.
“Miro isn’t the beast. He’s as much a victim as anyone else.”
Fear clutched tightly at my chest, making me hiccup. I couldn’t speak as
desire to stay and terror warred in my mind.
“I’m begging you not to leave.” Svet clenched his folded hands as if in
prayer to me. “I kidnapped you, and you didn’t even blink! You said—”
“I know what I said,” I ground out, furious at myself for thinking this
would be easy. “I’m not someone who reneges on their deals. It’s just...he’s
a...” I couldn’t say it.
“I’m a monster,” came the words, smooth as velvet from the stairs.
A shiver ripped up my spine. I stiffened, twisting slowly to face him.
“Yes, you are.”
Miro didn’t flinch.
I rose off the floor, body still shaking, and resumed my seat in the chair.
Hiding my discomfort, I cradled the cup of tea. From what I saw in the
truck, werewolves were scary creatures. But I already knew that, having
been a bookworm. I was familiar with many types of supernatural beings
and their wicked proclivities. While I hated touching things and reliving
suffering, I also wasn’t surprised when it happened. Not until today.
Normally, nature was safe. Few things happened outside that were
traumatic enough for essences to be left on objects. Even death amongst
animals was part of the proper order, calm and peaceful. I would see a
squirrel killed by a hawk from last summer as I sat on the grass in a park.
But that kind of image was a blip. That twig was the first time something of
this magnitude had left its strongest emotions on a piece of nature.
This was a curse. Miro became pure, unadulterated evil. The chaos he
delighted in was raw and devastating. I saw the beast—feral and
nightmarish. Not a normal wolf-man hybrid. Miro was a monster. The way
he pulverized the deer. Didn’t eat it. Delighted in shredding it.
“What happened to you?” I asked the damp figure on the steps when I
could trust myself to speak again. “How did that thing possess your wolf
form?”
A somber flash distorted his handsome features for a moment. “I pissed
off the wrong person.”
“That’s a typical reason.” I let out a harsh breath. “So, obviously, the
curse needs breaking.”
“How can you help with that? You said your powers don’t work the
normal way.” Miro stepped purposefully into the room, going for the fridge.
To explain my gift.... I took a deep breath. This was never easy. “I see
the future, but the images are like pieces to a puzzle, never the whole
picture. I can’t change what I see—and unlike other psychics, my visions
always come true.”
“Just not always as you expect,” Svet added helpfully.
“Exactly.” I smiled sadly and swallowed, buying myself a moment to
prepare for the harder part. “The other facet of my gift is that I can see the
past. With people, it’s something they hold close to their heart. Good or
bad, as long as it was strong enough to leave a marked impression.” I
gestured to the twig still lying on the floor. “If an object has a personal
connection—a favorite piece of jewelry or a toy doll for instance—and if
that person has a deep secret, it generally is imprinted on an object. Or, in
the case of trauma, if an object is associated with a violent incident or
demise.”
“From a twig, you saw what it—the beast—did to the deer?” Miro
poured himself a glass of water from a chilled pitcher. It was as if the
mundane act grounded him as we spoke. He wouldn’t look at us.
“No, I relived what it did to the deer.” My words stilled him as he
replaced the water container in the fridge.
“She can help us,” Svet declared, splaying his hands on the table.
They needed to know the rest. But I couldn’t get the words out. Instead,
I stared at the food, which was now cold. I watched the cheese, stiff and
shiny with grease. I’d been so ecstatic to finally be home that I’d
immediately set to work cooking. Which turned out great! Because as Svet
explained, werewolves, like other shape changing beings, loved to eat. It
was a great way to make an impression on the male I was going to work
closely with. But my new boss no longer seemed interested in the food I’d
prepared, and my chance to make a good impression was fast slipping
away.
Might as well get it over with.... “I saw myself here. During a blood
moon, and there is one not too many nights from now. I don’t know if it has
any significance in breaking this curse, other than a time marker. Because,
whatever I’m doing, I didn’t see that. But I saw you.” I lifted my gaze,
meeting Miro’s intense, jet-black eyes. They were deep and haunted. A
little shiver raced over my skin, sprouting gooseflesh. I hid my arms under
the table lest they see. “I’m here to help you. Even if you did kidnap me;
even if that image from the deer made me want to run like hell.”
“Perfect! Welcome to Blackwater Manor. This house sits on eighty
acres and borders the pack lands on all sides. We’re the Blackwater Pack.”
Svet was obviously relieved as he stabbed his food. “How familiar are you
with pack structure?”
“It varies with different supernatural beings.” I dropped Miro’s gaze to
have the absent conversation with the alpha.
“Right, and werewolves are pack creatures, but they’re a little
more...brutal. Which you saw in my truck.” He pinched his lips together,
hesitating on how deep to venture.
“Y’all won’t scare me away.” I trailed my finger around the rim of the
cup.
“You should be terrified, red.” Miro’s response sent another shiver over
my skin. It wasn’t from fear. If that was what he’d intended, he failed. I felt
a spark of warmth deep in my belly at the delicious way his words seemed
to caress my skin.
My cheeks warmed. I didn’t date, but that was because the young
supernatural men of my acquaintance were nothing more than dashing boys.
Here, deep in the wilderness, the proximity to these primal males was damn
near overwhelming. Can I really stay here and help them? Squaring my
shoulders, I reassured myself as much as stating my intent. “I’ve seen
myself here. I’m supposed to be here. Now, start talking so we can get this
done by the deadline.”
“You see us breaking this soon?” It was the first time something raw
consumed Miro’s voice. Hope. I was giving him hope.
“Well, there’s a blood moon, that’s all I know. And that’s a powerful
celestial event so something we do will culminate at that time.” I sighed.
“Honestly, there are too many unknowns at this point.”
“Did you see the curse broken?” Miro’s voice was deadly.
The little hairs at the nape of my neck tingled. “I don’t know,” I
whispered. “You can start by telling me what exactly happened to make you
this way.”
“Little brother, should I start, or would you like to take the stage for this
entire soliloquy?” Svet quipped, trying to lighten the somber atmosphere of
the kitchen.
It didn’t work. “Do whatever the fuck you want,” Miro bit back.
The table already felt too crowded with my hope-filled brother and the
innocent seer. It was best I stay back away from Addi. Her pulse thundered
in her veins. Instinct should have sent her screaming. Instead, she turned
those soulful eyes to me, watching with caution, but staying with
determination.
I held my plate and leaned against the island, as even my cold food
stared back at me with an accusatory glare. A knot of hunger tightened in
my stomach. Not having a microwave, I was too hungry to dump it in a
skillet to reheat on the stovetop. But my mouth felt like sand as my brother
waited for my confession.
“I don’t know where to start,” I admitted.
“The beginning is usually the best place,” the beautiful apparition
offered. She’d turned in her seat and rested her chin on the chair back as she
gazed across the kitchen at me. “Where is your pack from? You’re not
native to North America.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Svet told me. But even though you speak English well,
you both get so comfortable that your accent slips. There’s a roughness to
your cadence that isn’t American English—definitely not Southern dialect
or Creole.”
Damn, this one is sharp. “The Blackwater Pack migrated from the Ural
Mountains to this part of the world in the 1700s. Our father was tired of the
endless wars our kind faced in those vast, snowy terrains.”
“We barely remember our homeland,” Svet added, gazing into the
distance, mind no doubt consumed with vague images.
“You’re ancient,” Addi breathed, pressing her lips together to hide a
smirk. “Think of how much history you’ve experienced.”
I snorted. “Something like that.”
Whether she meant to or not, she was putting us at ease. Svet must have
felt it too, because he started again. “What you have to understand about my
brother is that little Prince Miroslav grew up reckless. Our parents
encouraged any displays of brash behavior, chalking it up to a bold
backbone. The years passed, and he grew worse. Too late, they realized it
also made him willful.”
“The respect for authority or others was lacking. While it was part of
our training, I pushed the limits,” I ground out. I hated this, my flaws and
the sins of the past ripped open and set on full display. I deserved
judgement and condemnation, but I couldn’t meet those keen grey eyes.
The flecks of storm cloud green made her seem more sympathetic. Maybe
she was a kind soul, but I couldn’t bear to be a hero in her eyes.
“Who did you upset?” Addi pressed, her voice suddenly so gentle it
hurt.
“Mardi Gras was always my weakness. It’s changed over the years, seen
its share of world events and catastrophes. After the ugly, brutal war that
ripped the humans in this country apart, and between plagues of illnesses,
the 1880s celebrations were wild.” I stopped. The fondness slipping into my
voice was dangerous. The old nostalgia for debauchery was hard to
condemn. Of course, my curse was an easy reminder of the price for those
sins.
“Who did you piss off?” Addi repeated, clearly fixated on that aspect.
“An Argét Sorceress.” I watched as no flicker of recognition passed
over her features. “Although she lives in the utmost secrecy, she rules this
area with an iron will. I hurt one of her children. A cunning queen, she
didn’t strike me down or even approach me at first. The sorceress watched,
waited. And five years later, she caught me at a bad time and split me from
my wolf form, cursing that form to be the epitome of villainy. ‘If you want
to act like a monster, I’ll make a beast who consumes you.’”
My voice had grown quieter with each sentence until the words of my
judge were a whisper. Even so, they hung heavy in the air.
Addi licked her lips, her tongue capturing my attention and stirring me
from my stupor. “Have you...tried apologizing?” she asked.
I snorted. “Did you not hear the part about secrecy?”
“We can’t find the sorceress.” Svet pushed back from his seat and
grabbed his plate.
What came next was the worst. I hated it. Reliving that night—the
memory would forever haunt me. There would be no putting it to rest as
long as I lived. But it needed telling, and it was my story to tell. If Addi was
going to stay, she needed to know who she was trying to save.
“That night was the first time the beast came out to play,” I finished,
this time staring hard at Addi, unable to look back at my brother. “I couldn’t
shift form at will all that day. At sunset, I blacked out—”
“Liar, liar. I’ll burn your ass in a fire, motherfucker. Why don’t you tell
them you see everything and that it fucking eats you alive?” That voice. It
rumbled in my mind. The beast pushed against my control, forcing me to
set my plate down quickly. Svet threw me a look, but I gave him a curt
shake of the head. I resisted the urge to grip the counter in a white-knuckle
hold. There was a brief struggle, the beast restless and wanting to come out,
even though the sun was up.
Finally, with a mighty shove, I pushed the beast away. His laughter
trickled through my mind. Exhaustion washed through me on the tail of the
struggle. Having a monster barrage me every day, all day, for the endless
decades was truly the worst curse imaginable.
“Miro?” Addi asked gently. “You don’t have to finish the story.”
It’s not that, red. Steeling my spine, I spoke the lie I’d been giving out
for decades. That I didn’t see the destruction. That the screams of that
family didn’t fester in my mind, fueling the guilt that broke me over and
over. “In the morning, I woke in a pack member’s house, lying amidst the
carnage and gore of the female to whom I’d been betrothed and all her
family. We—” I gestured to Svet “—were set to marry twin sisters; today,
not a pack member from that bloodline is living.”
Those pink lips parted, and Addi drew in a shaky breath. My words
hadn’t surprised her. She saw what the beast did to the deer, and it must
have prepared her for the final straw of my tale. Svet bustled around the
kitchen, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away. Those stormy eyes
became an anchor somewhere during my confession.
From the sink where the pouring water was already mixing into suds,
Svet added a few relevant details. “Our father sectioned off this manor—its
owner eager to sell and move. For other reasons, mind! My father made the
property line distinct from pack land. Our shaman cast a protection here. So
long as Miro is on this property before dark, the beast can’t leave its
borders.”
“And the beast can’t get into the house, garage, or shed,” I said.
“Okay, I’m confused.” Addi held up her hands, shaking her head. “What
exactly was the curse? You talk like the beast is a different being, but it’s
Miro’s curse.”
I recited the words from memory. They were burned into my brain. “‘If
you want to act like a monster, I’ll make a beast who consumes you. By
night and by day, nature will be split. Until your wolf is tamed, the beast
will have the power of destruction he so badly desires.”
“So you’re the beast.” Addi lifted her hands, her face crinkled in
confusion.
“I am not the beast. My wolf form is cursed.” Even as I said it, the
words rang hollow. I stalked over to the fridge, dumping my mostly
untouched breakfast into a reusable container. Without looking at my
brother or the strange, pleasant-smelling woman, I ground out, “I’m going
to bed. There are journals and books on magic, if you have any inclination
to read them. Until you have a plan how to break this, we have nothing
more to offer.”
“We have one more matter to discuss,” Svet called after my retreating
form.
Of course he did. I just wanted to take my sleeping potion and steal a
few precious hours away from the beast. Rolling my eyes to the ceiling, I
turned enough to glare at him. “What is it?”
“We need to explain her presence to the pack.”
When he paused, I waved my hand to elaborate.
“I have an idea, but I wanted to ask your opinion first?” Svet lifted a
questioning brow.
He didn’t imply the rest. It had taken nearly a decade, but the pack had
rallied around me. At first it was because of my father. But slowly and
surely, they’d championed me. The curse molded me into their second
prince, the sword who stood behind the heir who was now our alpha and
had been for the last year, after finding our father’s headless corpse being
chomped on by alligators. Thinking about that dead end always gave me a
headache. How he’d met his demise couldn’t be confirmed.
“They can’t know her true purpose,” I reiterated, taking a step upstairs.
“Not unless she finds something concrete to break the curse.”
“Then what is she doing here? What’s the cover story?” There was a
smile in Svet’s voice.
I didn’t like it.
“I don’t know, make something up,” I snapped.
“Okay, I will.” Svet turned, taking Addi into the conversation by
addressing her more than me. “We don’t want to get the pack’s hopes up.
It’s happened before, and it’s crushing to know we’re causing them angst.
So, for better or worse, the only thing that will occupy wagging tongues is a
juicy story. Congratulations, Addi, you’re Miro’s mate. You’ve been dating
secretly for months and now finally decided to elope, and you tied the knot
this morning in the presence of your alpha—the surprised and delighted
best man.”
My roar of protest echoed Addi’s shriek of disagreement.
“Like hell I am!” She shot to her feet, hands fisted on her hips.
The strange fire in her eyes entranced me, killing the words on my lips.
Would it be so bad?
“I’m the alpha, my word is law.” Svet put the frying pan away and
stepped toward the door. “I need to protect my brother, and he’s right about
the pack’s hopes. I have a ring, and you can sign a marriage license. We’ll
avoid a blood exchange ceremony. Anyway, is there anything you need to
make your stay here more pleasant, Addi?”
Addi blustered, words stuck in her throat. “Just like that? Do you
always move with such authoritative speed?”
Her sharp tone set me at unease. I didn’t like hearing the note of fear her
anger was trying to cover.
Svet just grinned. “I’m the alpha; it’s the only way I know how to roll.”
“Isn’t there another way, brother?” I ground out. “Having her stay here
isn’t wise. You know I hate people on the property after dark.”
“She’ll be safe in the house, and y’all can annul this easily when the
curse is broken.” Svet crossed his arms over his chest. “Sign the damn
paper and put the ring on your bride, Miroslav.”
There it was. An alpha command. The physical pull to obey threaded
through every fiber of my being. It could be resisted. But that would take
more energy than I currently had time for. “Are you good with being my
fake mate for the time being?” I asked, hardening my voice so that my
fatigue didn’t seep into it. It would never do to let my “bride” see me as
weak.
“Well, if that’s the only way. But—but I’m not twenty-one yet.”
Anger ticked in my chest, and I clenched my hands, glaring at Svet.
“You took an underage supernatural girl?”
“I’ll be twenty-one soon!” she objected.
Svet waved his hands. “It’s a generality in the supernatural
communities, taking after the humans—who have short ass lives.”
Addi winced, but Svet didn’t seem to notice. I did. I noticed everything
about her. From the long line of her neck to the curve of her shoulders to the
swell of her breasts hidden under that frothy white blouse.
“Werewolves, like other pack beings, consider the age of adulthood to
be eighteen at the highest. Most mature by fifteen or sixteen,” Svet
continued as if I hadn’t just lost myself in the lovely vision across the room.
Addi just shook her head, but her eyes took in the kitchen, and she let
out a long sigh. “Let’s break this curse. I’ll fake mate him.”
“Good.” Svet clapped his hands together.
“On one condition,” Addi continued. “No one from New Orleans can
know I’m here. I need to stay hidden so I can focus on this work.”
“That means they’ll think we actually kidnapped you,” I warned.
Addi shrugged. She made the small movement look elegant. “It has to
be secret.”
“The pack will keep quiet about you. That’s an easy one to settle. So!
Time to marry my baby brother,” Svet faked emotion in his voice just to
screw with me.
“Get it over with,” I snapped.
“So romantic, Miro.” Svet cleared his throat. “Addi, do you take my
brother as your lawfully wedded mate?”
“I do.” She looked at me, and whatever that emotion was crossing her
face, I couldn’t read it.
Svet repeated the question to me. It was as if it came from far away. My
voice was hollow to my own ears. “I do.”
“Great! Fantastic. By the power of the alpha of the Blackwater Pack, I
pronounce you mated. To make it legal, and add another layer, here’s a
human marriage license. Sign here, both of you.” Svet pulled a paper out of
his back pocket with a flourish. The date on the thing read that it was issued
weeks ago, when Bogdana cast the bones. I narrowed my eyes at my
brother, but he simply held out a pen to me.
With a scowl, I put my name to paper, and then watched as my “mate”
moved gracefully to where I stood. There wasn’t fear in her stormy eyes as
she approached her fate. But when Addi’s fingers wrapped around the pen,
our skin touched. The brush of her against me sent a bolt of fire straight
through my veins, heating my blood with a delicious arousal. She’s going to
be mine....
Fake. This is all fake.
“Do you need anything to make your stay here easier?” I asked my new
mate, echoing Svet’s earlier question.
My mate. That was going to take a long time to get used to. But
hopefully, it wouldn’t have to last much longer than the blood moon.
“Actually, I could use a few items from the store. I’ve got cash—”
“Give me the list,” Svet interrupted her. “We’re not a poor pack, and
you’re helping me. Whatever you require, it’s yours.”
Jealousy sparked bright emerald in my mind. He was gruff, but my
brother wasn’t bad. He was my biggest supporter. Still, as my mate, it was
up to me to provide for her. Not him.
As I worked through this wash of new emotions, Addi responded to my
brother. “Good, because I don’t want to go back into town and have them
find me. It will distract from our purpose.”
“You really don’t want to be found, do you? Aren’t you afraid they’ll
worry?” I asked.
“Nope. I mean, it sucks, but this is my life. It’s something Margot—my
sister—doesn’t understand. She has these grand plans and is ambitious as
fuck.” Addi stopped and shook her head. “This is my adventure. I won’t
have her ruin it—or come fix it for me.”
Huh. She really wants to be here.
“Here, bro,” Svet tossed me a box. I opened it and a plain, albeit large
ring sat inside. It was...yucky.
I coughed, turning to Addi. She looked at the ring with anything but
excitement. Fingers splayed, she lifted her hand. And then those beautiful
green eyes lifted to meet mine.
Something flickered in the far recesses of my mind.
“With this ring, I thee wed, and for however short a time we’re together,
I’ll look after you as a princess our pack deserves. You’re safe with me,
Addi.” As I spoke, I slid the ring over her finger. It was loose and slipped
over the knuckle easily.
It wasn’t the piece of jewelry but the feel of her solid fingers in mine
that struck me. Hers were strong, but not rough, scarred, or calloused. That
made them look delicate engulfed in mine. There was a long moment were
we only looked at one another.
My brother bustled about behind us, and the creak of the back door
broke the moment. “I’ll file the marriage license. Text me your list.”
“I don’t have a phone,” Addi admitted.
“Use my brother’s.” With a salute, Svet was gone, leaving a
peacefulness in his wake.
With a tug, Addi slid her hand out of mine. “So you stay outside all
night...husband?”
The teasing smile on those lush lips was a relief to see. “Yeah.” I pulled
at the back of my neck with my hand. “But you’ll be safe here as long as
you stay inside.”
The moment the words were out of my mouth, I realized how dumb
they sounded. I wanted to be the good guy, to put her at ease.
“Alright then—” Addi walked to the other room “—have a pleasant
nap. I’ll go find those books you talked about.”
I let my gaze trail over her lithe frame. She was wearing a long skirt and
blouse that rode up to flash tanned midriff. A spark of hunger flared in my
chest, and I recognized the pull as desire. Addi was a damn fine woman,
and I couldn’t help but wonder what she would be like as a real mate.
“Thanks. You want me to show you where the library is?” Already I
was stalling, trying to make her stay.
“Nope.” She gave me a full smile. “Go to sleep, you’re awfully
grumpy.”
I flashed her a devilish grin. “Well, honey bunny, you’re welcome to
join.”
Flaming red splotches appeared on her cheeks. “I’m good with the fake
mating, but it doesn’t mean I need to act that way when no one is
watching.”
“Suit yourself, but I only have one bed in this entire house, so feel free
to snuggle in it at night.”
“Don’t you have a couch?”
I wish I’d burned the damn thing. “Yes.”
“Perfect. That’s where I’ll sleep.”
Chuckling darkly to myself, I went upstairs. Except when I folded into
my bed, I tossed and turned. Exhaustion from the physical strain of the
curse dragged me into a fitful sleep, and the sleeping potion didn’t pull me
deep enough to forget. Addi’s smell trickled up here. It was divine, and I
couldn’t get that scent out of my nose.
What am I going to do with a...bride?
The late afternoon sunlight fell on the old, worn boards of the wraparound
porch. Up here in the front, the drive wove through the mighty dogwood
trees and luxurious magnolias, the dirt path passing by the stone pavers that
lead to the front door. It then trailed around to the back where a garage
housed a truck and covered car, and a mostly empty shed fanned out in the
circle of the drive. Other than the need for landscaping, flower gardens, and
trellises of winding greenery, this farmhouse was amazing, far better
experienced in real life than in dreams. It was spacious and full of potential.
Already, my mind wandered to paint samples from the hardware store,
planned a trip to Home Goods or Hobby Lobby to get decorating pieces,
and wondered what charming, authentic finds I could collect at the antique
shops around the city.
It’s not my home. Every time I dreamed up a new scenario, that
aggravating little voice chirped a reminder. But...it could be. I had seen
myself here. The various visions that’d come to me over the years showed
this place as my home.
Now that I was finally here, I doubted what I’d seen. How did Miro
play into this? My visions were puzzle pieces. Just because glimpses of this
place were frequent, didn’t mean I’d ever seen the whole picture. What if
this was just part of my epic adventure, and I never came to live here
permanently?
Leaning on the push broom handle and fidgeting with the loose wedding
ring, I sighed. That hurt too badly to think about. The orphan who wanted a
home of her own—how tragic.
How cliché. I squeezed my eyes tight, fighting back the pinch in my
chest.
“What’s that for?” Miro’s soft question was like velvet to my ears.
“Damn you, don’t you make any noise when you move?” I snapped,
hiding the guilty feeling about daydreaming over this beautiful house that
was the perfect blank canvas for my creative longing under my annoyance.
Miro was holding the portable part of a single serving blender in one
hand. He leaned against the wall and took a long sip of the green, colored
contents. It was probably one of the healing smoothies I’d found a recipe
card for in the drawer by the fridge.
“You deep cleaned my house.” He stared at me over the rim of the
drink, as if he was trying to puzzle something out.
I shrugged. “I needed a break from those heavy spell books.”
“So you cleaned every room on the lower level?”
It wasn’t like there was a delicious stack of raunchy regency novels to
devour. Not that I wanted this alpha male to know about my guilty little
pleasure.
“I lost track of time.” My voice rose as if it was a question as I
nervously pulled the spelled necklace chain.
“Addi, you don’t have to help me. You don’t know me, you don’t owe
me anything, and other than paying you, we have nothing to offer you.”
There was a raw desperation to his tone.
“Well, you don’t know me either. I’m supposed to be here, and I’m here.
But those books are thick, and it will be work paging through them,” I
added, not wanting him to get his hopes up.
“I’ve spent years studying those texts for an answer. There is nothing.
But who knows, maybe you’ll see something I didn’t. Read between the
lines.” Miro sounded...defeated.
It made my chest clench. But I doubted he wanted my pity.
“I’m staying.” I stretched my arms out, pushing the broom handle away.
“I will be here at the blood moon. Something I do will help. Until then, I
can see if the beyond sends me anything useful when I touch the books.”
How I wished I could contact Margot! Her nifty gut instinct could direct
us to which books to choose. She lived and made every damn decision
based on that ability. Sometimes it drove her to extremes, like jumping off
the roof to fall harmlessly onto beanbags when we were ten. I could use that
ability to brush my hands over the books and see if one would help. Instead,
I had to read the tomes the old-fashioned way.
Thinking of her wasn’t helpful either. Already, as the day wore on, I
knew how sick with worry she’d be. I’m such a shitty person to put her
through this.
I swallowed hard. Hiding out here was the right thing to do. Technically,
I was Barbara’s ward until my birthday, and that wasn’t until after the blood
moon. Neither my guardian nor my sister would let me stay here if they
knew where I was.
“What is it?” Miro asked, keen gaze never wavering.
“Nothing,” I chirped, flashing him a smile. “As I was saying, I’m
staying, lover boy.”
“My brother is a good man. Single, too, if you’re interested.”
I blanched. “What?” I stammered. “You...me...we’re supposed to be the
fake couple.”
“You flirted with him.”
“I was friendly. Nothing more!” Oh, merciful heavens, I didn’t need this
right now.
“Is that what this is?”
“Yes.”
He pushed off the wall. The screen door creaked as he opened it. “What
do you want for supper?”
The question was so normal. It made me pause for a moment, repeating
the words in my mind.
“What can you cook?” I teased, knowing from the contents of his fridge
that he ate fairly normal food considering his alternate form was part
animal. And that as a wolf-man, the hybrid was raging and destructive.
“I can grill.”
“That works for me.” This felt like a strange dance. My skepticism and
deep mistrust of Fate’s agenda made this seemingly domestic routine hard
to believe.
“Great, I already have the steaks out. How do you like your meat, red?”
Dammit with that nickname! I knew my cheeks were scalding.
“Medium rare.”
His brow jerked. He moved to go inside but stopped. “One more thing.
No matter what you hear tonight, stay indoors. You’ll be safe.”
A shiver raced over my body, and it wasn’t the good kind. “Don’t
worry, I have no intentions of meeting the beast.”
Miro grunted, sweeping one more long glance over me. My body
warmed in response. After he retreated into the house, I let out a long
breath. My fake mate was...hot.
“Oh, Addi, that’s trouble,” I whispered to myself. Sure, I’d seen Miro in
a blip of a vision. But I’d never stopped to consider him like that. I rested
my chin on the broom handle and chewed over this strange physical and
emotional draw. Would it be the worst thing to get close to him?
Or was he always going to see me as a business arrangement? I snorted
a laugh. I had neither Margot’s vivacity, nor her friend Cassidy’s raw
sexuality. But now that I was finally here, in this place, an inner goddess
was stirring inside me. She begged to be fueled and unleashed.
She seemed to promise that everything would be okay, that it was safe
for her to finally take up a voice in my decisions.
“Alright, I trust you,” I caved. “But I’m going to keep you on a tight
leash.”
There was a snort of derision. Challenge accepted, she seemed to say.
Fate have mercy.
It was going to be a hard shift tonight. Physically, I was spent. There was no
choice but to endure this living nightmare. Leaving my clothes folded on a
chair near the back door, I ventured out into the early evening.
I’d left the seer—my new bride—ensconced in the antique couch, face
smooshed against the elaborate stitching. I offered the bed.
Wasn’t that the rightful spot of a bride on her wedding night? A dark
smile curved my lips, but it was short lived.
A pulse of pain spread through my joints. I grit my teeth and went
through the safety procedures. The doors were locked, as were the
windows, the patio furniture and gas grill tucked away in the shed. The
garage was shut tight, my truck and car safe from destruction.
Supernatural beings who could shift form were used to the sight of
naked flesh, but as I went through the nightly security checks, I absently
wondered if Addi would catch a glimpse out the window. The curtains were
drawn, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t peep.
A low growl rumbled through me. I wondered why I liked that idea so
much.
On the heels of the pleasant thought was another spasm of agony. This
one shook through my whole being. Time to get down to the bayou.
The banks of turf down there were distorted and most of the trees were
scarred by the violence of the change. What I’d told Addi wasn’t quite true.
Hell, no one knew what it was like to encounter the beast. To lose the battle
to the monster every damn night.
I didn’t black out—ever.
How could I hold my head up as a fearsome member of our pack and
admit that for the time before the sun set, during the fresh hell of twilight, I
knew my monster. And no matter how bitterly I fought, I lost. Every single
time. I was Sisyphus and Prometheus wrapped in one hellish existence.
Addi asked why I called the beast a separate entity. Well, it was.
“I am?” an evil voice taunted. It was my mouth. The sound was that of
my voice. But it was the beast who spoke.
“Fuck you,” I snapped.
“You’d like that too much, asshole.” There was a nail grating chuckle
that ripped through my throat, and I was helpless to stop it.
Humans would say I had a split personality. How little they could
comprehend a real curse; what they spoke of was a sickness, something
their medical professionals were getting better at treating as the ages
progressed.
I picked up the pace and ran to the water’s edge. It was a close call,
escaping from the house just in time before the beginning stages of the
curse took over.
“So...we have a new house guest?” the beast mused. “Pretty, isn’t she.”
“You leave her alone!” I shouted. But the beast wasn’t in control of my
body. Not until the stroke of sunset. And the house was safe.
“I’m going to have fun with her,” the beast promised, laughing
maniacally.
I coughed through the laugh, regaining my vocal chords. “You can’t
touch her.”
“I can sing, croon to her as a true lover would.”
A dark shiver chilled my blood.
Down by the bayou, I sank by the shore. I didn’t want to fight. Right
now, it didn’t feel like there was any energy in my body to do so. But I
knew the moment the shift happened it would be such a struggle that I
couldn’t help but fight off the curse.
I always lost.
The bloodlust was already creeping around the edges. The shift’s pull
was brutal.
“Why didn’t you tell her you can talk to me?” The beast was talkative
tonight. That high, petulant tone nauseated me. I didn’t sound like that, but
it was my body talking, my vocal chords capable of the sound.
As if the whining wasn’t enough, the muscles in my back seized. I
pitched forward, falling headfirst into the brackish water.
“You can’t escape me, weak one,” the voice taunted in my mind.
“You’re unkillable. We’re going to spend eternity together!”
I pushed out of the water, spitting and hacking. “I hate you!”
“So...you hate yourself?” the voice snickered.
“You’re a curse—you’re not me!” I insisted.
“Hmm, wrong again,” the beast chortled.
“Not only are you a monster, but you’re a filthy liar,” I raged. But the
pain was so intense that I dug my hands into the earth.
“Now you’re just being mean, Miro, my boy!”
My body quaked, and I clenched my arms and legs to fight it off.
“For your naughty little insult, which I’m fucking sick and tired of
hearing by the way, I’m going to have some fun tonight.” The beast sang
out gleefully. “You can’t fight me—I am you!”
“Nnooo,” I sobbed. This was it. This was the worst. The pleading.
When it reached this point, there was no turning from it.
My only solace was that no one else ever witnessed this portion of the
change.
“AAAddddddiii—”
I sat up on the couch. That strange voice, singing my name, sounded out
in the front yard. That was Miro’s voice. Gruffer...and more of a hard rasp
than a level cadence.
“Adélaïde!”
The sentient speech caught me off guard. He spoke in a powerful tone,
and I felt drawn to respond.
Rising, I walked to the front door and peered through the window. The
orange glow of the still lingering sun met me. There was nothing out there.
Not a whisper of motion moved in the tree line at the edge of the mowed
yard. But on the front porch, where a welcome mat should have lain before
the screen door, there was a bouquet of wildflowers. My chest warmed at
the sight. Miro must have left those beauties before he went out into the
acreage. The only person he could have left them for was me.
His fake mate.
Heat warmed my cheeks. Reflex had me twisting the ring on my left
hand.
Don’t be an idiot! It was Margot’s voice in my head, chiding me. But...I
had defied her in a manner of speaking by coming on this adventure. Why
the hell should I listen to her mental blast of conscience?
“Besides,” I muttered under my breath, “Miro said the beast stays away
until the sun sets.”
I cracked the door open. Nothing moved out there. My new husband left
me flowers, and if that wasn’t a friendly gesture, I wasn’t sure what was.
How did I not notice them when he was puttering about the porch? I have to
grab them quickly before the sun goes down.
Wetting my lips, I pushed the screen and dashed out. My fingers
clutched the stems, bound with vine. They were gorgeous! Fragrant and
vibrant summer blooms. Lifting them to my nose, the hairs on the back of
my neck rose as a soundless brush of air skated past me. I turned, slowly.
The beast.
There he stood, looming between me and the door. He looked like a
normal werewolf—humanoid and lupine merged into one brutal, powerful
being. But there was something more blazing in those molten irises.
I scrambled back, bumping into the pillar that held the roof over the
porch. There was no rail, and I nearly fell into the bushes. Through the
terror, one thought popped helplessly into my mind. How did he move so
fast?
Hind legs thick and warped with muscles, the hair covering them was
dark grey. He wore no pants. Avoiding a glance at the male parts, I took in
the wide, imposing torso. Broad shoulders morphed into impossibly long
arms. The hands were tipped with claws. The face was the most lupine
aspect, mouth elongated into a snout, the jaws powerful, and the lethal teeth
glistened with purpose.
Those eyes. Golden and bright. They promised a host of dark things,
including pain and pleasure. Damn, but I could lose myself in their depths
and never know death was taking me.
Miro’s eyes were black. That thought, while scientific, was not helpful
right now.
“Hello, my little bride,” the beast murmured, mouth twisting up into a
feral smile.
I blinked, frowning.
Taking me in with a sweeping glance, the beast’s voice hardened. “Cat
got your tongue? It’s bad manners not to thank someone when they make a
gift for you.”
Pushing to my feet, I swallowed back the lump in my throat. It would be
best not to anger him. “These are beautiful. Thank you, beast.”
“Miro. My name is Miro,” the beast menaced, jaws snapping to
punctuate its words.
The argument bubbled in my mind, but I shoved down the urge to
contradict the monster. “As you say. Well, it was nice making your
acquaintance. I’m going back inside; these need to be put in water.”
Warmth possessed every cell in my body as a laugh fell from his lips,
luxurious and dark as sin. “Nice try, pet. But you and I are going to have
some fun. It’s our wedding night after all.”
He gestured at the ring, warm against my finger.
“You’re not going to hurt me. I’ve seen the future. I’m alive by the time
the blood moon comes around.”
“Hmm, I might not kill you, my little bride.” The beast sauntered
forward. Its claws slashed out, and I winced. But no harm came. Those
long, disjointed digits with the wicked claws wrapped around my arm,
lifting it up. “But you’re wrong about the other. Look. I’ve already hurt
you.”
It took a tremendous effort to break eye contact and flick a glance at my
arm. A drop of blood ran down the length, where the backside of my
forearm must have been cut on a nail in the porch pillar. Little beads of
blood sprouted from the scratch.
The monster leaned forward. Before I could scream, that long, rough
tongue darted out and—
Licked the blood off my skin.
A rich growl rumbled in his chest. “Fucking ambrosial, pet.”
I gasped. The sensuality and a tinge of fear spread through me, racing to
centralize deep in my belly. There was no time to wonder at the rush of
heat. It was there; it stole my very breath.
“Are you ready to consummate this marriage, bride?” The beast jerked
his head toward the house, dropping his hold on me. “My bed is big enough
for this monstrous form to ravish you. You can scream your release as loud
as you want, no one to hear for miles.”
My mouth went desert dry. That was the filthiest thing I’d ever heard.
It didn’t repulse me. In the far reaches of my mind, a soft voice told me
it should. But I didn’t listen.
“I married Miroslav—”
“I am Miro,” the beast growled, stepping into my space, but careful not
to touch me.
He was insistent on that. A test bubbled in my mind. “I don’t even know
your last name—Miro.”
“Rugia. The surname is Rugia.” With old-fashioned elegance, the
werewolf bowed deeply. He took my hand gently in his large paw and
brought it to the tip of his muzzle. The press of his lips mimicked a caress.
Not a lick, but an honest-to-Fate kiss. “And that would make you Adélaïde
Rugia.”
“This marriage is fake,” I blurted out, halfheartedly putting up a defense
against the lust burning its way through my body. “Consummating it would
make it...real. We can’t do that.”
“I’m not sure that little treat pulsing between your legs knows that, pet,”
the beast purred. “I can smell your arousal. It’s been evident since you met
my other half this morning.”
I refused to shiver at the observation. “I’m here for a job; sex is off the
table.”
The beast dropped my arm. “I’m not sure I want you to break this curse,
my little bride. Consider this your first and only warning. I won’t help you,
and I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.”
On that mood-killing note, it was time to get out of there. The truth was
his honeyed eyes and smooth words had wooed me like a male from a
classic book. It was an embarrassing admission I could mull over later.
How to escape him?! I can’t die until after the blood moon!
Bolstering myself with that knowledge of the future, I knocked the
bouquet of flowers into the monster’s face. Ducking under his gigantic arm,
I launched myself toward the door. Ripping the screen open cost me
precious seconds. My bare feet scrambled against the unpainted wood. I
didn’t breathe. Not until I was across the threshold.
My heart nearly exploded with relief. I did it!
Throwing the flowers to the ground in a fit of rage, the beast threw back
his head and roared his displeasure. The very foundation of the house
shook. Every fiber of my being recognized the predator for what he was.
The monster had been toying with me...the prey.
The beast stomped toward the door, but I slammed it shut. Through the
decorative glass, we watched each other. My jagged inhale was damn near
painful. He could have had me. If he wanted to, there was no escaping him.
He’d let me flee.
“Run, little one,” he howled.
I knew he couldn’t get inside. Just like I knew he couldn’t kill me. But it
didn’t stop me from spinning around and sprinting up the stairs in sheer
terror.
The darkness swallowed me on the last steps. Ghostly prickles skittered
over my skin.
With the change in light, my pupils didn’t adjust. Something brushed
my ankle, and I shrieked, fingers slapping at the wall for the light switch.
There was none. Gasping for breath, I clawed at my throat to keep back the
panic. My overactive imagination was on overdrive. There could be any
number of spectral beings in this upper area. I could have sworn I felt
something.
It was no good.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fumble around in the dark.
The beast outside might be terrifying, but the unknown here was worse.
On the tips of my toes, I bolted back down the stairs, swung around the
banister, and launched myself into the cozy library.
A cackle rattled the windowpanes, golden eyes not missing a single
moment of the way fear possessed me like a demonic noose.
With the setting sun illuminating him from behind, I watched the
shadow straight from a horror movie pace on the other side of the western
facing window curtains. The solution would have been to turn on more
lights. But I was frozen, perched on the couch’s protective corner. I couldn’t
bring myself to move and chase the beast’s shadow away.
“I’ll win you to my side, bride,” he called, pausing to tap a claw on the
window.
I hugged myself and watched.
“You can bet on it! You’re not breaking this curse and sending me back
into nonexistence.” His threats, muffled through the windowpanes, were
chilling.
Please—please just go away.
It wasn’t until late in the night, when the beast had raced off to Fate knew
where, that I started to consider our conversation. Ignoring my physical
reaction—which must have been magically induced, because there was no
way my sane mind would have reacted like that—I mulled over the
specifics of his words.
He calls himself Miro.
He says he’ll vanish if I break the curse.
He calls me his bride....
With a body-wracking shudder, it all ended. Sunrise. I blinked into the rosy-
tinted wilderness around me, as my control slid back into place. The trees
here had decades old gouges. The ground was trampled from where the
beast had raged. In my humanoid body, I rubbed my upper arms against the
misty chill of the morning. Another night had passed, and I’d survived. Not
that I had a choice in the matter. But Addi? Fucking hell, that was another
matter entirely.
Vision blinded red, I stumbled through the trees. The faint whispers of
sunlight weren’t enough to chase away the lingering ice that seemed to have
burrowed into my bones. How dare she disobey my commands?! She’d
been outside after dark! I need to drill into her head just how fucking
dangerous that was.
With a thin control over my explosion, I rubbed my jaw, jogging up the
front steps to walk the porch to the back door—
Blood. Virgin’s blood. The scent stopped me in my tracks. A single bead
was soaked into the worn plank. The physical remnant was a brutal slap of
reality. The beast had been in a playful mood last night, delighted to have a
new toy to enliven the boredom of night. But he’d not been joking when he
stated his determination to keep the curse firmly in place.
“Oh, I’m going to spank your pretty ass until your skin is as red as your
hair, little one,” I vowed under my breath.
“Spank her? Really?” The beast barked a laugh, enjoying the twist of
events.
His words and presence faded to the back of my mind. As if pulled by
an invisible string, I turned and bent to inhale the dried micro drops on the
rusted nail and the single splat on the wood. That scent became stronger as I
focused on it. Something ancient and primal fluttered in my chest as I drank
in the crimson call. The blood song was virginal. Exotic. Forbidden.
My mouth watered at the temptation her blood promised. Even now, a
broken being, her scent called to me in ways I’d long lost the privilege to
have.
“Do you normally shuffle around like a naked chicken with your head
cut off?” That sweet voice called out from the other side of the screen door.
I froze. My heightened senses hadn’t picked up the opening of the door
or the female’s approach.
“I’ll leave your pants right here. Don’t worry! I’m not looking. Not even
tempted.” Addi pushed the squeaking screen open and dropped the item of
clothing. “Okay, well, nice chatting with you, too.” She laughed nervously
and let the screen door drop close.
An irritating scratch stirred at the back of my mind just beyond the
curse’s cage. “I tasted her, asshat. She’s...divine.”
A dizzy wash of reality swelled through me. Addi was alive. She’d
survived an encounter, the first person to have done so in well over a
century. But only because the beast of Blackwater Manor wasn’t done with
her.
“Too late to stop it now. I’m going to take what I want, and it’s her,” the
beast promised.
“You’ll not lay a finger on her,” I hissed.
“Finger? No...I have claws, all the better to destroy her. And that’s
exactly what I’ll do the next time. I’m going to ravage that sweet little body,
but the best part—”
“No!”
“— is she’ll be begging me to decimate her. Unlike your self-righteous
ass, who’s too scared to take what he wants, I’m not. She’ll spread those
pretty legs for me.”
I had to get rid of Addi, make sure she was nowhere near the beast!
After grasping the pants and staggering forward a few steps, I blinked
into the bright swath of daylight that fell across the side of the house.
Fueled only by a spike of rage, I ripped the jeans onto my legs and fought
back exhaustion as I made my way across the porch.
“Do you have a death wish or something?” I shouted, banging the back
door open as I stormed inside the kitchen. “Did I not make myself clear
when I told you not to go outside after dark?”
“How did you know?” she demanded, glaring at me.
Shit. Shit! I needed to lie, and fast. “I smelled your scent on my skin.
You were outside, and he touched you.”
Addi started at my words. The spatula in her hand moved, hot bacon
grease dripped onto the hardwood floor.
“You didn’t think I would find out?” Good. She’s bought it. She didn’t
know I had to watch that monster lick blood from her, helpless to stop any
of it.
“I met the beast last night,” she drawled. “Pleasant fellow. No harm
done.”
My jaw fell to the floor. She didn’t see it! I clenched my fists to resist
the urge to shake her. “This isn’t a game! Only Fate knows why you aren’t
dead!” I slammed the door closed. The walls rattled with the force.
“I touched you, and I was fine!” Addi fisted her hands on her hips. The
cloth she wore as an apron would have been cute if I wasn’t spitting mad.
That stance, one I was not accustomed to, declared war. She wasn’t going to
put up with my shit.
“He’s not to be trusted,” I snarled low, prowling closer. “Whatever the
hell you did, whatever game you thought to taunt it with, don’t ever do it
again. Keep all the doors and windows shut, and don’t ever go out there.”
“That’s not going to work, because I need to work with you. As man
AND AS BEAST!” Addi got right in my face. “The sun wasn’t even down
all the way—care to explain that?!”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Oh, so you’re calling me a liar, too?
Great, just fucking great!”
“You don’t believe me,” Addi snorted, the nervous tick making her pull
at the necklace on her throat. “You don’t believe it was still daylight?”
Was it the stroke of sunset? Did he seize control moments early during
the twilight? In the midst of the battle, it wasn’t as if I kept a watch and
recorded the exact millisecond I lost control.
“It doesn’t matter. Sunset is a state of being to this curse, not a precise
moment. The fact remains you’re beyond lucky that the monster didn’t
eviscerate you.” In the span of the yelling match, we’d gotten quite close.
Now, her flushed face was within a hair’s breadth of my own. Suffused in
wrath’s beautiful bloom, she was...enchanting. I wonder what those lips
taste like.
“Well, get a load of this. The ‘beast’ isn’t some other being. It’s you!
You’re in there, and it’s you controlling it. We had a moment, and it was
charged in a way a decent gal like me shouldn’t experience. But besides
that, you were...protective. Sweet. You brought me flowers, for crissakes!”
Her words rocked through me, extinguishing the mad desire to kiss her.
My spine snapped straight. “That villain is not me.”
Shaking with wrath, I marched past her. If I had to stay there and hear
any more of those putrid accusations, it wasn’t going to be pretty. I
wouldn’t answer for the consequences.
The blast of cold water from the showerhead was no help. I replayed the
fiery woman’s words over and over in my mind. The force I used to shut the
water off left the lever in my hand. Dammit all to hell!
Just another thing I would have to fix around here due to my temper.
I stormed out of the shower and dressed quickly. Hair still wet, I
pounded down the stairs.
Breakfast was warming on the stove, and Addi sat at the table, hands
folded and waiting. She looked up, and if her lashes sparkled with moisture,
I pretended not to notice.
“Get anything you need and meet me out back,” I barked.
“Where are we—what are you talking about?” she stammered.
“I’m taking you to Svet. Since this was all his great idea, he can be
responsible for you!” I snatched my keys out of the junk drawer.
I turned around and that lithe body stood in front of the door, blocking
my exit. “No.”
“Addi—get in the damn truck.”
“No, Miro!”
Addi stepped forward. Her palms smacked into my chest, and a burst of
energy wracked through me. My breath whooshed from my lungs. If she
felt it too, she didn’t say.
“I’m not leaving! I’m here for a—for a reason,” she said, her voice
cracking.
I gripped her fingers hard. The anger was fast fizzling and leaving the
skeletal etchings of fear on my heart. “I won’t have another innocent’s
blood on my hands, do you hear me?”
“You didn’t hurt me last night!”
But I could have. “There was blood—”
“Because I fell into a rusty old nail. You surprised me, that was it.”
“The beast,” I ground out. “The beast is ruthless, bloodthirsty. Its malice
knows no bounds.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” she insisted.
As we’d argued back and forth, her warm breath brushed on my skin.
The floral body oil she wore cocooned me in its fresh scent. That foreign
feeling flared to life again. This time it was easy to name—desire.
Seven hells, she was beautiful.
Chest heaving, she fumed, vicious grey eyes glaring up at me, meeting
me measure for measure. Addi seemed completely unaware that we were so
close. That I was a hair’s breadth away from kissing her.
But I couldn’t kiss her. Not after fighting with her. Could I?
Before I could decide, she took a shuddering inhale and stepped back.
“Eat your breakfast and rest. I’ve made an herbal tea to help speed the
healing process if you have any injuries.” Her voice did that thing where it
raised because of the unspoken question in her words.
There was a moment I considered agreeing. A moment where I could let
her win this struggle.
But that was not how this was going to happen.
Dropping down, I grabbed Addi around her waist. “Sorry, red. This is
for your own good.”
“You big, stupid man! Put me down!”
Those little fists smacking into my back were...cute. I smiled, especially
after realizing that her ass was right next to my lips. What a beautiful sight.
“Are you staring at my butt!” Her shriek was too piercing for this early
in the morning.
I grunted. “No, ma’am.”
“Liar!” she seethed. But the word didn’t pack as much of a punch as she
probably wanted it to.
Trapped by a brute made of two hundred plus pounds of cranky muscle,
there was no hope of escaping from the truck cab. Fuming on the bench
seat, I chewed on what to say, how best to play this change in situation.
Miro didn’t believe me. I might be a lot of things, but a reckless liar had
never been one of them. Having direct access to the beyond and always
seeing what would happen chased away the need to leave things to chance.
There was no tricking Fate with my visions. They might be snap shots, but
when I saw them, they happened.
The beast wouldn’t kill me. I would survive until the blood moon.
A horrible, sinking feeling had been weighing in the back of my mind
since before dawn. Although I couldn’t explain why, I was cautious about
leaping to conclusions about the monster. That was why I’d been damned
and determined to fight for him, even with the scant knowledge of the beast
at my disposal.
He called himself Miro.
He brought me flowers.
The skin of my arm tingled at the memory of his rough tongue. The
beast had been primal, possessive. If Miro had a minimum of half those
masculine traits, it was something I could work with.
My lip twitched. I knew exactly what I needed to say to the grump
driving down the back country road. It might be a gamble that ended badly,
but I had to try.
“Are you sure you want to drop me off at your brother’s?” I asked,
sounding as innocent as possible.
The muscle in Miro’s stubbled jaw pulsed.
“Are you sure you want another male protecting me? Watching over
me? Caring for me?” I dropped my voice and let a little seduction filter
through it.
Miro shifted in his seat. He flicked a black glance in my direction and
ground out, “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work.”
“What?” I lifted my hands innocently.
“You’re trying to make me jealous. It’s not going to work, red.”
Strange. Wasn’t he the one trying to set me up with that very same
brother? Because he thought I was flirting? I shifted in my seat, hands
clenched tightly in my lap. “So sue me for trying to stay at the epicenter of
this mess,” I grumbled. “I’m supposed to be helping you—how am I going
to do that if I’m tucked away at your brother’s?”
“How are you supposed to help me if you’re dead?” Miro rasped,
knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.
That deflated my resolve ever so slightly. I chewed on my bottom lip. I
couldn’t promise him that I would stay indoors. Hell no! Not after meeting
the beast. I might not have gut reactions, but I knew it stood within good
reason that if I was going to get to the bottom of this, I needed to speak to
the monster again.
Before I could respond, Miro spoke again. “Do you know what it’s like?
To lose control...to that thing?” There was a painful edge in his voice. It
filled the inside of the vehicle like a desperate plea.
“No, I don’t,” I confessed.
“I shut him away every morning, but I can’t get rid of his terror. I have
to live with his destruction. My pack has done everything in their power to
protect the world from him. And yet there’s no escape for me.”
I opened my mouth, thought better of it, and clapped it shut.
“Addi, I can’t let him hurt you too.” The gruff tone was heartbreaking.
Miro was such a strong, virile specimen. For him to break like this was
almost enough to have me agreeing.
Almost, but not quite. “Miro, I live until the blood moon. Don’t banish
me—let me do whatever it is I came here to do.”
There was a long pause, and I hoped my words were sinking in. But
with a shake of his head, Miro kept driving deeper into the swamp. The
waters of the bayou lapped the edge of the road, threatening to wash away
the dirt. Trees towered over the clumps of soggy land they ruled.
Everything was lush and green. It made the air almost murky.
As I watched the swamp rush past through the window and tried to
weasel my way out of this, the road took a sharp turn. Through overhanging
trees, whose branches created a canopy over the road, a neighborhood of
houses sprawled out of the clearing.
“Welcome to the Blackwater Pack,” Miro said, sweeping a hand toward
the community.
There were more houses than I could count. The large, open aired pole
barns were devoted to more artisanal pursuits rather than commerce. It felt
like a self-sustaining neighborhood. A little ecosystem of monsters tucked
away in the backwaters.
Who knew a werewolf village thrived in the swamps beyond New
Orleans?
We turned left and headed down the main street. At the end of the road
was a single-story rambler. The landscaping wanted attention, not that it
was unkempt or overrun. It was nonexistent. My eye for design
immediately wanted flowering shrubs to line the small front stoop while
smaller plants would intersperse along the length of the house. In between
the three large windows to the right would be perfect for trellises and
climbing flowers.
The truck slid into the drive, and Miro cut the engine. Without a word,
he cracked the door and left. Mumbling a string of grievances under my
breath, I followed.
“I’m not done with this conversation, just so you know. Not by a long
shot,” I snapped.
A grunt was my only reply.
I stormed after Miro as he went around the house, where we found a
shirtless Svet chopping wood. How did he know his brother was back here?
I cocked my head and looked between the two. The answer came almost
immediately. I was amongst supernatural beings who were part animal,
which meant their senses were stronger than my own. Their hearing, smell,
and sight were heightened. And probably their taste. The ghostly caress of
that monstrous tongue skittered over my arm once more.
“Good morning,” Svet drawled, swinging the axe up to rest the long bar
across his shoulders. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I crossed my arms and glared at my fake mate. “He’s trying to get rid of
me.”
At the same time, Miro barked, “This isn’t going to work.”
Svet let out a low whistle. “Trouble in paradise already. That must
be...some kind of record or something.”
The tension rolling off Miro was tangible. My fingers itched to reach
out and run along the length of his arm. I stopped myself, puzzling at the
desire to calm him. The craving to connect to him physically easily trumped
the flares of pissed off energy.
But the males were already spitting venom, so I shoved that
wonderment down and focused on their hushed verbal spat.
Without meaning to, we’d gravitated toward one another again. Our
little triangle became decidedly Isosceles in shape—my mate and I standing
close and facing down his brother. I could feel the heat Miro emanated,
smell the woodsy aroma of his natural scent. It was...distracting.
“At least speak to Bogdana—this is progress, Miro!”
“You rotten idiot, you want her to get killed?!” Miro snarled, crossing
his arms viciously over his chest.
“I won’t die before the blood moon!” I nearly shouted. “How many
times do I have to tell you?!”
Svet cut his hand through the air. “Quiet, both of you!”
I jerked in surprise at his harsh decree, but Miro cursed under his breath.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“She’s been extra troublesome lately,” Svet groaned under his breath.
“This wasn’t how I wanted her to find out.”
“Too late for that,” Miro growled.
Looking to the next yard over, I saw an ageless woman with perfectly
coiffed dark hair coming our way, a basket of baked goods on her arm. A
second woman, with midnight hair curling to her waist and flawless movie
star makeup, trailed behind. She wore a crop top flannel and short shorts.
Tall, busty, and my worst nightmare manifest. It didn’t help that she was
damn near glaring at me.
“Remember, you two are a couple. For Fate’s sake, put your fucking
arm around her, little brother!” Svet’s hiss was barely audible.
“Hello!” the lady with baked goods called out. “Natasha and I did some
baking today and thought we’d pass some out.”
“That’s very kind of you, Queen Astasia,” Svet responded, voice as if
butter would melt in his mouth.
At the word queen, I tensed. A million questions fluttered through my
mind, but I didn’t dare ask them. In the space of a moment, Miro was at my
side, our bodies closing the distance naturally.
The long-haired woman, Natasha, didn’t miss it. Something dangerous
sparked in her bright blue eyes as she watched us.
“Who’s your guest, alpha?” Astasia looked to Svet.
“My lady queen, this is Addi. She and Miro have been keeping a secret
for quite some time now, and they’re finally ready to go public with their
relationship.” It was clear Svet was getting too much pleasure at his
brother’s expense.
“Miroslav! How could you not tell your stepmother?!” Astasia swayed
forward and slapped her palm dramatically on her generous chest.
I bit my tongue so as not to laugh. What a phony.
“Oh, come, lady queen, you know I’m a private person,” Miro
grumbled.
“But we’re family!” she gasped. “I should have known you had a
girlfriend, my son.”
“Wife.” That one word fell from Miro’s lip as a single, frosty flake of
snow.
Astasia gasped.
“It’s true, they’re mated...and married, since she’s a human,” Svet
confided, rubbing his hands together in glee.
That was my cue. I held up my left hand, making the rock sparkle in the
sunlight.
Natasha stumbled. Too focused on her mother, I almost didn’t catch it.
Noticing my attention, Natasha pierced me with a glare. A few moments
ago, I would have chalked her looks up to jealousy. But since this was some
relation, sister or half-sister or stepsister, maybe it was just familial concern
and protectiveness. Or maybe werewolves were more incestuous
supernatural beings? My gut flipped at the thought. Still, the anger had
quickly overshadowed any displays of weakness.
“We must forgive my brother his loner ways, lady queen,” Svet minced,
a smile carved across his whole damn face. “But rest assured you are the
second person only to me who knows. And I found out just the other day, so
it’s not as though you’ve been singled out. Miro has kept this delightful
secret to himself.”
“And...you know what he is, Addi?” Natasha demanded.
“Cursed? I’m aware,” I beamed. To show my support, I slid my hand
into Miro’s.
Electricity crackled from the touch. I wasn’t prepared for the strong
reaction, and it left me breathless and fighting to maintain my composure.
Did he feel that too? I glanced up, but there was nothing showing on Miro’s
stony face. His dark eyes shifted away before I could get a read in their
black depths.
“It’s so nice to meet you both,” I gushed, holding out my right hand to
shake theirs. Miro didn’t leave my side but kept pace with me as I took
three steps forward. A warm feeling fluttered through my chest at that. It
helped balance me for what I knew was coming.
As I shook the queen’s hand, I saw the woman’s worst sins in bursts of
yellow. She’d had an affair right after marrying the late king, Vitslav. It was
gross but harmless. She did mourn the late alpha’s passing, and her feelings
of devotion for the stepsons were genuine. As the vision of the past faded
and reality lost its yellow hue, I noted the red band she wore on her arm.
The garnets inlaid in gold gleamed in the sunlight. Odd that she wore
tokens from her lover, but I wasn’t about to ask her about it.
When I clasped Natasha’s hand, it wasn’t a glimpse of the past Fate
chose to send me. This time, it was a puzzle piece from the future. Natasha
was ruthless and she hated me. We were grappling on the ground, and she
landed a blow.
Oh, shit. That was going to hurt. A foretaste of the pain was already
searing between my shoulder blades, and I bit my tongue to keep back the
whimper. I dropped Natasha’s touch and found myself shrinking backward.
Right into Miro’s hard form. A rush of relief and solid warmth flowed
through me. There was no escaping that brutal encounter. My visions
always came true. Natasha was going to hurt me in the future. I wanted to
sob, because there was no avoiding or changing my fate.
As if sensing my distress, Miro’s fingers tightened before he released
my hand and wrapped an arm around my waist.
Dropping his nose, he nuzzled behind my ear. “Let’s go inside.”
Svet and Astasia stopped their conversation to say goodbye. Natasha
merely flicked a manicured eyebrow at me. Without letting go, Miro guided
me into the house. The sensation of having strength to lean on was a new
and welcome change. I could get used to this.
“What happened?” The words were out of my mouth the moment the door
slammed behind us.
Addi’s pulse was racing. While she tried to hide her distress behind a
nonchalant shrug and cute smile, she wasn’t fooling me.
“Adélaïde.”
She flinched. “I hate my full name.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Really? It’s...enchanting.” Decadent.
The shiver that raced over her flesh had my blood warming, and dark,
dangerous thoughts surged in the back of my mind. How pretty would it be
to see that shiver over her entire body?
Pushing those thoughts away, I took a step, crowding into her space.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Addi pursed her lips. “I saw a piece of the future when I touched
Natasha.”
Her voice chilled me. “And?” I prompted.
“She’s going to hurt me, and it will suck. But what are ya gonna do?”
Addi tried to laugh it off with a generalization.
A blast of protectiveness overwhelmed every other thought in my mind.
“I won’t let her.” I ran my hand up Addi’s forearm. “None of the pack
will hurt you, Addi. The only danger for you here is the beast.”
Addi dropped her gaze to where I still touched her. Lifting her eyes,
there was deep sadness in those stormy depths. “You still don’t get it. The
glimpses of the future aren’t complete, but they always come true. That’s
how I know that you won’t kill me if I talk to the beast—if I do it now.”
“And that’s because I’m not letting you anywhere near the monster,” I
insisted. Why couldn’t she see that?
A frustrated growl on her lips, Addi tried to push me. Her palms pressed
futilely against my chest. It was cute. “You don’t get it! I can’t be killed
before the specific point in time.”
With an exasperated outburst, I spun around and stomped to the fridge.
Ripping it open, I reached for a beer at the same time Svet stormed into the
house. Still fucking shirtless. I couldn’t help it; I snuck a glance to see if
Addi was drinking in the sight.
She wasn’t.
Her smoldering glare was directed straight at me.
Before I could contemplate the relief that rushed through me, Svet
spoke. “Well, that went well! The whole pack will know you two are an
item before noon. And Astasia’s supporters will hate your guts. But! We’ll
deal with any treachery.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grunted. That plot of my brother’s was
the icing on this shit cake situation. “Want a beer?”
“At ten in the morning? Sure....” Svet drawled.
“Addi?” I asked, holding a bottle between my fingers.
“No, thank you, I can’t drink.” She flashed me another smile and folded
gracefully onto a kitchen chair.
“Lots of supernaturals don’t abide by the human drinking age—” Svet
began to say.
“That’s not why I don’t drink,” Addi quickly responded, finger running
against the chain of her necklace.
A headache pulsed along my temples. It was hard to be properly
curious. I was starving, having run out of the house before I ate the
breakfast Addi made. On top of that, I desperately needed sleep.
“Nat was jealous,” Svet teased, continuing the stupid thread of
conversation. He tipped his bottle back.
I slammed the cap off mine by means of the counter’s edge. “She
doesn’t like me, just the idea of the crown,” I grumbled.
“They dated,” Svet explained. He probably thought he was being so
helpful. “Of course, that was before Miro’s reformation.”
“That’s enough,” I barked.
“Her mother doesn’t support your claim to the alphaship?” Addi
surmised.
“She hasn’t been as privately supportive of Svet’s ascension as she is in
public. But when it comes to strength and lineage, she has no claim,” I
explained.
“Or a champion with that prowess,” Svet added.
As we talked, Addi gingerly touched the tabletop, then after a moment,
drew little patterns from the wood. I gazed at her face, watching every
emotion and thought play out over her features.
Svet waved his hand. “She’s a gold digger. Our parents were married,
and she thinks she can continue the tradition. Anyhow! How’s the curse
breaking going?”
Addi tensed, finger poised on the tabletop. “I’m being disposed of
before I’ve even started.”
Svet wheeled about, an accusatory shout ringing through the small
space of the kitchen. “Miro!”
I grunted, taking a long swig of the amber liquid. It wasn’t heavy
enough to make a meal. And because of my metabolism, it wouldn’t get me
buzzed, even without food in my system.
“I met with the beast last night, and he said some interesting things.”
Addi flattened her palms on the table and finally looked up at my brother,
locking her gaze with his. “I want to continue that thread, but someone
thinks I’ll get killed.”
“You did what?” Svet choked out.
“I met the beast. I need to continue talking to him—he might know
something.” Addi drummed her fingers against the wood at a furious pace.
“Miro’s got a point about you staying away from the monster,” Svet
said, voice softening. He might be a thorn in the side as far as siblings went,
but he did care.
“Right—I get that.” Addi clenched her fists. “What Miro won’t hear is
that I tell him I can’t be killed. I’m living and thriving until the blood
moon.”
“And that’s because she’s going to stay with you.” I chucked my empty
bottle into the recycling bin. “She can’t be near my property when the beast
is roaming.”
“The beast is Miro. And he can’t kill me. I don’t die. Not right now.”
Addi was pleading, and damn him, Svet was considering her. I knew that
narrowed slant of his eyes. It was the alpha, the king of the pack, weighing
the situation and deliberating.
I let out a low growl of menace. “I’m not fucking around, Svet. She’s in
danger.”
“Let’s back up to that other thing she said.” Svet waved his hand,
squeezing his eyes shut and concentrating. “‘The beast is Miro.’ What does
that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Addi admitted quietly. “But the bit in the curse about
the duality, it sticks in my mind. Especially after what the beast told me. He
said he was Miro.”
“You talked to him and survived.” Svet rubbed his chin.
“I already said that,” Addi ground out.
“And unlike my brother, I heard you. It’s just incredible. A change from
the monster’s MO.”
“No. No!” I raged, rushing forward and getting in Svet’s face. “I can’t
have her death on my hands!”
Svet ignored me. “You’re hesitant for a seer, Addi.”
“I’m physic with a sketchy hold on my gifts. My ancestor was a
vědmák, a magic man, but whatever power was in the bloodline must have
been diluted.” She shook her head. “My mother had no gift and didn’t
believe mine.”
There was more to the story than that admission. Her voice said it all.
Curiosity spiked in my mind, but I set it aside for another time.
Another time? You’re trying to get rid of her.
“You should meet the pack’s shaman. Might be useful,” Svet offered.
“She knows a lot about magic, even with her own limited powers. She’ll
find your gift fascinating.”
And dammit, it brightened Addi. The smile on her face was damn near
radiant. I couldn’t stop staring at her.
“How soon can we go?” she exclaimed.
Svet opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “I’ll take you tomorrow.”
Today, exhaustion was already creeping around the corners. I needed to
rest. It was pitiful how easily I wore out, but the toll the curse exacted
couldn’t be ignored.
The smile my older brother tried—and failed—to hide irked me. I’d
played right into his hand.
“Well, you two kids have fun. I’ve got some pack things to oversee.
Thanks for the visit.” Svet moved across the kitchen, sauntering down the
hall to his room.
“She’s staying here,” I shouted after him.
“Miroslav—quit being a little dick about this.” Paused on the threshold,
Svet finally lost his cool. “How in the hell can she help if she’s here? I need
you, brother! Enough already.”
“Svet.” I fisted my hands at my side. It was suicide going against the
alpha. Not only was he older, but there was a strength that radiated through
him that none of us could match. But dammit, I was willing to brawl over
this.
“She can’t die, brother. Have some faith, and let Fate do its thing.”
“Enough,” Addi snapped. “I’m staying with you, monster. Let’s go.”
She shot out of her chair and marched through the arched opening into the
living room. Her hips swayed with their own rhythm.
“I’m a loner. I don’t want a roommate, let alone a woman, messing with
my house,” I barked. But even as I said it, I didn’t hate the idea of her
coming back with me. Of her not staying with my brother.
“Thanks,” she bit back.
I wondered what it would be like to tip her head back, taste the wrath on
her lips. Shaking my head, I followed her to the front door. I’m just horny.
Years of abstinence would do that. Except, as I watched her climb up into
my big old truck, I had to admit how damn good she looked in there.
Wrenching the door open, I couldn’t help but needle her. “What did you
think of my brother’s abs?”
“Oh my word, will you quit! I’m not interested in your brother. I will
never be! So knock it off!”
Those words made me happier than I had any right to be. “Touchy
much?” I smirked, settling behind the wheel and turning over the engine.
“You have a way of testing my temper, yeah.”
“Well, it’s in your nature to be feisty, red. Can’t help myself but watch
you ignite.” At my words, her cheeks warmed. Damn, that’s lovely....
I spent the drive back memorizing the winding dirt roads that spanned the
distance between the manor house and the werewolf village. The need to
pepper Miro with questions about the pack was strong. But he seemed
drawn into himself. The reserve on his features was sad to see, especially
after the burst of teasing right as we’d pulled away from his brother’s
house. I think he’s exhausted.
That thought pulled at my heartstrings. Always the mother hen at our
orphanage, I couldn’t help myself. “Would you like me to drive so you can
close your eyes? I don’t have my license, but at the orphanage—”
“Can you drive?” he interrupted.
“I understand the concept, and I won’t go fast enough to go off the
road.” I debated reaching out and laying a hand on him, gently urging him
to give in.
Miro snorted softly. “No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t sleep anyhow.” He
quirked a smile. “Female drivers make me wary.”
“I didn’t mean sleep, just a chance to relax your eyes—what do you
mean by that misogynistic comment?” I bristled.
Miro’s laugh filled the truck cab. It was nice.
“I’m only teasing, red. You make it easy; I couldn’t help myself.”
I couldn’t force back the smile.
The light outside dimmed. The tree cover had become heavier as we
took a bend in the road. I looked up, not quite seeing the sky. The somber
change didn’t worry me.
Until Miro braked hard. Leaning forward, he peered out the windshield,
scanning the foliage.
Pulse picking up, I looked too, but didn’t see anything out of the—
A double pop was followed by a whooshing, and the truck skidded,
front end tipped down at a wrong angle.
“Shit!” Miro careened into the back, reaching for a...weapon bag. The
explosives strapped to the side were military grade.
“What is it? What’s happening?” I shouted in a stage whisper.
“We’re under attack. Someone laid spike strips on the road.” Miro thrust
a knife and a gun at me. “Can you fight?”
“No! I’m an orphan, not a warrior!” I took the weapons anyway.
Miro grunted. “Most supernaturals value combat training.”
“We did some sessions on self-defense,” I snapped.
“Not the same thing.”
“Clearly!”
“Well, that’s something we’re going to remedy—soon.” Miro armed
himself and tossed me a phone. “Call Svet, tell him we’re six miles away
from Blackwater Manor and under attack.”
With that, Miro left the car.
“Wait!” I scrambled after him as the door slammed in my face.
“Lock the door, don’t come out—”
With a flash of black, something sprang from the tree line. My heart
leapt to my throat. Miro lifted his blade to block the creature.
Shaking myself from the shock-induced freeze, I juggled the weapons
and phone.
Call Svet. The knife fell.
The phone! It slipped. I grabbed the device.
It’s simple, just dial. My fingers were thick and clumsy.
Call Svet! The screen brightened in my hand.
Time felt ridiculously long, but in reality it was seconds of fumbling. If
I’d just taken a moment to breathe, it would have been much easier to dial.
But calming the patter of my heart was difficult with the vicious scene
taking place out there.
“WRAITHS!” Miro shouted.
I snapped my gaze to his. There was a wildfire burning in those onyx
depths. It stole my next breath to see. The warrior in him was impressive.
Powerful. For a moment, I lost myself to watch the lethal dance as he
battled the creature.
And then a second hellish creature emerged from the trees. Its piercing
scream shattered my eardrums.
As if in a trance, I managed to tap into the cell and find Svet’s number,
inconveniently listed as Shithead. If it hadn’t been the most frequently
dialed number, I wouldn’t have guessed it was him. With a flicker of
annoyance, I called. The moment the line connected, I shouted past Svet’s
cheery greeting.
“Wraiths attacking. Six miles from Blackwater Manor. On the curve
with dogwood trees.”
“We’re coming. Hang tight,” Svet clipped before ending the call.
I dropped the phone into the cup holder. All I needed to do was wait.
Miro was holding his own in battle; Svet was on his way. Having a panic
attack wouldn’t help anything. Stay calm! I chanted to myself. What the hell
else was I going to do? Go into hysterics? Ha! That was for women two-
hundred years ago. Women Miro used to sleep with.
A shiver of revulsion shot through me at that. Why would I care? It
wasn’t like we were actually mated.
There was a crack behind me. The glass of the passenger window rained
down where I sat.
I spun around, drawing back as tendrilled hands shot through the broken
shards. The wraith grasped for me.
From the back of my mind, the limited training Barbara’s brother
Jackson had done with us came to the forefront. I drew my leg back and
kicked with all my might. There was a satisfying crunch as the heel of my
ankle boot collided with the face of the evil spawn.
But then those fingers shot out and wrapped around my ankle.
I screamed. The yawning maw of the brute opened wide to sink fangs
into my flesh. A wraith bite could induce temporary insanity. That was how
they liked to devour their victims. Meat flavored with raging lunacy.
Not even thinking, I pulled up the gun and curled my finger around the
trigger. A resounding shot echoed. And then repeated six times in quick
succession.
The wraith jerked back, head snapping at an impossible angle.
But those fingers were still wrapped around my ankle! They pulsed with
tremendous force.
I pulled the trigger again. The gun just clicked. I spared it a glance and
saw it was cocked open, a funny thing for a pistol to do. Stupid gun! It must
have broken.
I did the only thing I could think of. I chucked the broken weapon at the
monster.
The wraith shrieked, but then moved forward to leer at me unfazed. It
tried again for my ankle.
Choking back a sob, I struggled. My body wriggled, kicked, and bucked
as I tried to pull myself free.
And then my ankle was free. The wraith had been ripped away. I
struggled back across the bench seat, pulling my knees to my chest.
Miro buried his blade in the creature’s throat. There was a sick gurgle
before my attacker stilled. Relief spilled through me. It hadn’t bit me.
Miro shot to his feet. “Are you hurt? Did it bite you?!”
“No,” I gasped. The word was strangled.
Miro didn’t spare me a second glance but put his back to the truck. His
stance was protective. I gulped down air, trying to fill my lungs.
There was a long silence as Miro scanned the trees. Whatever was
happening, he moved away, prowling up and down the road. I crawled over
the broken glass and spoke through the hole.
“Are they gone?”
“I don’t hear anything. The swamp is returning to its normal cadence,
which is a good sign that there are no more fiends lurking about.” Miro
paused and looked me up and down. The ferocity in his gaze should have
scared the living daylights out of me.
Instead, it warmed me with promises of safety.
That display of protectiveness momentarily went to my head. I’d never
been looked at as if I was something precious to someone. And that was
exactly how this werewolf was staring at me. Like I was fast becoming
important to him.
Funny, he was trying to get rid of me not an hour ago.
Just like that my spirits shattered. It was probably all in my head. Pack
creatures were beyond loyal. Since the pack was sheltering me as I worked
for them, it stood to reason that this was just a natural werewolf reaction to
a member of its family being attacked.
There was no way either of us was catching feelings. Or, at least, not
him. This was all fake.
Still, that thought made me strangely sad. For about three more seconds,
and then the squeal of tires and dust exploded behind us. The cavalry had
arrived.
As the shadows of late afternoon fell, I was on my eighth cup of
chamomile. Miro and I hadn’t exchanged a single word after Svet arrived.
The spike strip was cleared, and the pack escorted us to Blackwater Manor,
the two of us in Svet’s car. The truck would be towed back to the pack’s
village, where they’d put new tires on the front. Miro had gone straight
upstairs. I cleaned up the remains of the cold, gross breakfast, made my first
cup of tea, and curled up with the books in the library.
The rest of the day had been ridiculously calm after the volatile events
of the morning. But it was exactly what I needed.
The book was a collection of theses on supernatural species. I focused
mainly on the pack types and skin changers. What most people referred to
as wolf shifters were actually lycanthropes. It came from Greek roots and
meant wolf-human. Those were beings who could shift into adorable, albeit
vicious, wolves. They didn’t talk in wolf form, not with human speech. That
was something new I’d never realized. The man upstairs, a werewolf, came
from Old English. He was a wolf-man. When he shifted, he became a
fearsome hybrid. Both man and wolf. And yes, capable of speech.
Except, Miro was far from normal. Something about the curse made
him unable to shift during daylight and forced a shift at sunset. Last night
the sun hadn’t set. It was still light out.
The detail was something I would account for tonight. The technical
time would be 8:03 p.m. But a fast search on the internet told me that there
was nautical twilight, astronomical twilight, and civil twilight. My head
swam with numbers. Either way, I’d promised Miro I wouldn’t go outside
after sunset.
But it didn’t mean I couldn’t talk to the beast from the safety of the
house.
As the day wore on, I’d stacked quite the pile of books beside the
armchair. The green damask piece of furniture was immediately my spot. In
fact, this whole room was now my domain. This wasn’t the scene of the
castle library from Disney, but this beast did have incredible floor to ceiling
shelves on all four walls filled to the brim with books. There was also an
island in the middle where scrolls sprawled over the surface. There were
pigeonholes for more scrolls and tiny shelves with journals and diaries
locked behind glass on the other side of the island. The sitting area was near
the two great windows, which is where I curled up, even though the
executive desk with a leather throne sitting along the back shelves looked
equally inviting.
This was easily my favorite room, with the kitchen being a close
second. With some home décor touches, the kitchen might just surpass this
space.
Careful, don’t get too comfy. I sighed. This house was...perfect. A little
work, and it could be a home.
“Such a sigh,” Miro observed from the doorway. His voice was granite
on granite. It matched the disheveled hair and scruff darkening his chiseled
jaw.
I refused to admit how sexy he looked.
“Morning,” I chirped, closing the book around my fingers.
“Hi.” He pulled on the back of his neck, fingers gripped tightly around
it.
“Did you sleep?” You look dreadful. There were deep circles under his
black eyes.
“Yeah, I got a solid couple of hours.” Miro jerked his chin at the
bookstack. “Anything catch your eye?”
I shrugged. “Just bolstering my education. I’m going to be an expert on
pack life by the time I’m done here.”
A distracted smile turned up one corner of his mouth. My chest
tightened at that. But I couldn’t explain it even if I wanted to.
“Hungry?” Miro asked, something flashing in his black eyes.
“I could eat.” I slid a torn piece of scrap paper in the book and rose.
I followed him into the kitchen, and we began the careful dance of
preparing a meal without invading each other’s personal space. As we
chopped vegetables for a salad and took out marinated steaks, neither of us
said a word. It was all too easy to lose myself to the fantasies of my
imagination. The bare necessities for cooking were here. Without meaning
to, I imagined a new cupboard system with better countertop designs.
Modern farmhouse chic. There was a formal dining room through the
opposite door with a butler’s pantry between. I could see the room lit with
candles, baked goods lined up and side dishes in fancy serving containers. I
would handmake fresh winter garlands, which would perfume the air with a
fresh, holiday scent.
“Are you okay?” Miro leaned against the counter.
As my cheeks suffused with heat, I realized to my horror that I’d been
staring wistfully at the butler’s pantry and dining room, my fingers
clutching my throat as I once again sighed about the daydream. “I’m fine,” I
said, voice unnaturally high.
“You looked happy. Care to share?” Miro’s voice dropped, soft and
coaxing.
I met his gaze.
And immediately lost myself in those depths. His irises were so dark,
they nearly melted into the pupils. They were such a contrast from the
beast’s bright rings of dark yellow. I would have to ask him if that was
natural, the change in color when a werewolf changed forms. But for now, I
answered his question.
“Just imagining the thing I want most, and someday will have.” The
words were too forced. Too cheery.
“Oh?” Miro had moved closer. Or maybe we both had. Either way, he
was tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “And what is that?”
“We only just met, wolfman. I’m no expert on relationships, but secrets
that deep are definitely month three or four conversation material.”
“Why?” he purred.
I shrugged. “I guess because they could scare the other person away at
the beginning.”
“Well?” he mused. “Since we’re not actually a couple, what do I have to
do to earn the right to hear those deep, sacred thoughts?”
Holy hell. My heart nearly exploded. This was too much! The way he
looked at me was intense. And when did he wrap his fingers around my
waist and draw me against his body? Damn. That body with all that corded
muscle mass was as hard as I’d imagined it.
“What—what did you say?” I rasped, licking my suddenly dry lips.
Miro’s gaze cut to the action. Hunger flashed through his dark eyes.
“Am I able to earn your trust to hear your most sacred thoughts?”
“Possibly,” I whispered. “But only if you’ll return the same in kind.
Trust takes both sides to build a bridge.”
A dark chuckle rattled through his chest. “Deal.”
We stood like that, lost in the moment.
Until the damn skillet began to smoke from the olive oil heated for the
sliced summer squash. With a yelp, I pushed away from Miro. He seemed
to snap out of the trance, because he stormed around, grabbing the steaks
and slamming the back door as he went out to the porch where a grill leaned
against the house.
I watched him through the window as I remedied the olive oil situation.
We’d had a moment. It wasn’t fake. Do I really want to pursue that thread?
It could be disastrous. Sure, there was an attraction between us. No use
denying it. But with how convoluted this situation was, mixing business
with pleasure seemed disastrous.
Adding a quaint touch with the way I folded the paper napkins, I set the
table. Miro came back inside with the steaks right as I finished. He set the
covered container down, letting the meat rest on slabs of butter.
“That looks...nice.” Miro pulled at the back of his neck.
“Thanks.” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. The familiarity
from that intense moment was gone. And the awkwardness in its place was
doubled.
We folded into opposite chairs and dished the salad. I fidgeted until
Miro looked up from stabbing his fork.
“Something the matter?” he asked, voice carefully neutral.
“I’m going to—” I coughed, clearing my throat.
“Yes?”
I rested my folded hands against the side of the table, shifting my
fingers to make the stone’s setting quit biting into my flesh. It might be
easier to get used to this ring if it fit properly. If it was my style.... “I’m
going to say grace. I’m not asking your permission, just explaining ahead of
time, so you aren’t surprised or interrupt me by teasing, which I really
would rather not hear, and I hope you’re not an asshole like that. I really
don’t think you are, but it’s really personal to me, and you did tease me
about your brother—”
“Addi.” My name on his lips stopped the ramble. “Go ahead. I won’t
mock you for practicing a religion.”
Letting out a long breath, I murmured, “Thanks.”
Then I bowed my head. The common table prayer rattled through my
mind. When I was done, I crossed myself and looked up.
When my dinner companion didn’t comment, I started in on my salad.
Miro ate his quietly until his plate was cleared. Then he rose to serve the
steaks.
“I’m pleasantly surprised, red. You don’t have to be worried that I’ll
judge.” Miro slid the slab of meat onto my plate.
“Thank you,” I swallowed.
“To what deity did you pray?”
My knife slipped as I cut into the steak. “Um...to God?”
Miro quirked a brow. “Even amongst the humans there are many
religions. Taking into account all that us supernaturals pray to or revere as
sacred, there is no end.”
“Oh, well.” I cleared my throat. “Jackson—brother to the proprietress of
the orphanage, Barbara—lives near and serves the St. James Parish on
Jekyll Island. The residing priest, Father Juan, was a central part of our
lives as children. While Barbara didn’t push her Roman Catholic beliefs, I
did end up going to mass here in New Orleans at St. Patrick’s on Camp
Street with her every Sunday.”
Miro chewed his bite, nodding his head in consideration.
“What?” I groaned.
“It suits you.”
“What?! What the hell does that mean?” I nearly squeaked.
My outburst had a grin cracking across his lips. Damn...but it was
beautiful. Whereas his brother smiled easily, this was genuine and really
captivated me, coming from the tormented soul that sat across from me.
“Your faith. It’s another puzzle piece that falls right into place to make
up the bride I’m making an effort to get to know. Because, you know, we’re
supposed to be intimate.”
I snorted to hide how that crazy word made me truly feel. “You call this
making an effort? You spent all morning trying to get rid of me.”
“It happens.” Miro shrugged. Before I could comment a stillness fell
over his body. “That reminds me; tonight, you must swear to me that you
won’t go outside.”
I pursed my lips. “I can’t do that, Miro.”
“Addi,” he warned. “You’re going to swear. And if you break the rules,
there will have to be some kind of punishment.” His lips purred over the
word.
“Look, I don’t want to fight you.” I held up my hands. “But I need to
talk to the beast again. I was thinking—” I raised my voice to be heard over
his protest “—can I open the door, or even a window? Therefore, I remain
inside, but I still get to chat it up with your hairier self?”
My attempt at humor fell flat.
Miro worked his jaw back and forth, considering me. Finally, he
stabbed another piece of meat, and before he plopped it in his mouth, he
begrudgingly admitted, “That could work.”
I hid my victorious grin behind a bite of summer squash. Perfect. That
was exactly the start I needed.
Miro finished his steak quickly and set to work ensuring the threshold
of the back door was spelled. Not a magic user himself, he knew how to
draw from the magic around us by means of the runic script he carved into
the space. Finally, with a line of chalk, he’d finished.
“When you open the door, spill salt over this line. It’s an extra measure
to help the runic enchantments. And whatever you do, don’t go out.” Miro
rose, rubbing his hands together. “Now—I’m going to require a blood oath
from you in exchange for this concession.”
I scowled. “Not necessary.”
“Oh, but it is, red.” Miro leaned forward, voice going deadly soft.
How much did I want to push him? Besides, I could break a blood oath.
It was hard as hell, but not impossible. Once sworn, I would have a strong
aversion to going against the vow. More than strong, my body would fight
it. And if we arranged for any repercussions, I would be bound to those as
well. I could always swear not to step across the salt line.
Swallowing what would be a telltale smile, I nodded. “Fine. I agree.”
It would be a simple manipulation of verbiage. If I swore not to step
across the salt line, it would leave other methods of exit available. Simple.
Forcing a fake grump on my face, I watched Miro rummage through his
drawers for something.
“I don’t have a sewing pin, but this knife is sharp enough the tip
shouldn’t leave too big a gouge,” Miro said tightly. Was that reluctance to
hurt me in his voice?
“Get on with it,” I snapped.
Miro slid the blade across his own thumb, opening it wide. “Hand.”
My mouth dried.
“This really isn’t necessary,” I bit out, dramatically shooting my hand
out to him.
Snatching my hand, he gripped my palm tight. I sucked in a sharp
breath at the prick of pain. Fundamentally opposed to foul language, I

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Table of Contents

Caught By The Dark | Copyright

A Note From The Author

Prologue – The Man

Chapter 2 – The Man

Chapter 4 – The Man

Chapter 6 – The Man

Chapter 8 – The Man

Chapter 10 – The Man

Chapter 17 – The Man

Chapter 18 – The Beast

Chapter 20 – The Man

Chapter 24 – The Beast

Chapter 26 – The Man

Chapter 30 – The Man

Chapter 31 – The Beast

Chapter 33 – The Man

Chapter 34 – The Beast

Chapter 36 – The Man

Chapter 40 – The Man

Chapter 41 – The Beast

About The Author

A walnut branch scraping against my window woke me from a dead sleep. I

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