A Curse in Darkness by Sherilee Gray

Chapter 23

Willow

I wokewith a start and blinked into the darkness of my room. I was alone. Completely. There was no scent of pine and leather or motor oil lingering. Warrick hadn’t been here.

I sat up.

Something felt…wrong.

Shoving off the covers, I climbed out of bed and threw on some clothes, slid my blade into the sheath at my hip, put on my boots, and rushed from the room.

I opened the doors to my sisters’ bedrooms as I went. All were fast asleep, and Mom had drifted off in a chair at Rose’s bedside.

I took the stairs as quietly as I could. Else was tucked up in her room as well.

Relic was in the kitchen when I walked in, and he didn’t look happy. “Where is he?”

“Edric,” Relic said. “War went to clean up.”

This was not good. Not good at all. “Where? What happened?”

Relic studied me for several long seconds, deciding if he should tell me, then shrugged. “State forest, the east side. Edric wiped out a group of campers.”

Fuck.

“How long ago did Warrick leave?”

“Not long.”

“He went alone?”

Relic looked pissed. “Yeah, and he pulled rank. Said it was his mess to clean up.”

Which meant Relic’s hands were tied. You did not ignore the alpha of a pack’s orders, and in some cases, it was physically impossible, depending on the animal.

I rushed to Else’s workroom, quickly and quietly loaded my satchel with what I needed, and headed out in the Morris.

I didn’t know if Warrick would find Edric, but if he did and they fought, the spirit might leave and I needed to trap it before it moved to someone else, before it caused more damage.

I pushed the Morris to its limits the whole way, my stomach in knots. Warrick was incredibly strong, the most brutal out of his brothers, which was why he was alpha, but Edric was possessed by pure evil. That alone made him beyond dangerous.

I cursed and planted my foot harder on the accelerator. The sense of urgency grew. He needed me. Somehow, I knew Warrick needed me, and it drove me forward.

I finally saw his bike and skidded to a stop, then throwing on my satchel, I gripped my blade and ran into the forest. My gut told me where to go, and I was positive I could smell his scent lingering among the trees. Pulling out a flashlight, I shone it at the forest floor, and sure enough, large hound prints were pressed into the soft soil.

I rushed on.

This part of the forest was frequented by humans, the trees and undergrowth not as dense, giving very little cover, so demons, especially, tended to avoid it. I tramped on until I saw firelight flickering up ahead.

“Stay back,” Warrick’s gravelly voice called through the shadows, sensing my approach.

There was no way in hell I was doing that. I strode to the edge of the campsite and froze. There was barely anything left of the campers. They’d been torn to pieces.

Warrick closed in, naked and fierce. He looked me over, and his nostrils flared. “You shouldn’t have come here. You’re still recovering and Edric’s close by.”

“I’m fine, and him being close is exactly why I should be here,” I said and lifted off my satchel. “We need to stop him from doing this to anyone else.”

“The sprits weren’t part of your trial, they’re not your problem anymore,” he said. “This is too dangerous.”

I ignored that and took what I needed from the bag. “You’ve seen what I can do. You’ve seen me fight. I know you feel protective over me, but that doesn’t actually mean I need your protection. And task or not, I need to end this. One of them has Ren, or have you forgotten?”

He growled, watching as I quickly mixed the body oil we’d used before. “The tattooed runes should be enough to protect you.” I looked up, and he didn’t look happy. Nothing new there. “You think you can hold him down long enough for me to exorcize him?”

“Yes.”

“Is he watching us now?”

He lifted his chin, scenting the air. “Yes. He’s stalking us.”

Fuck. “I better move quickly then.”

A few minutes later, I was naked in a salt circle, rubbing oil all over my body, and we had a plan. Edric howled close by, very close, and goose bumps lifted across my skin.

He was about to make his move.

Warrick had been pacing around me, still in his human form. At the sound of that howl, he stopped, and with his broad back to me, tilted his head to the sky and howled in return, the sound filled with warning, with rage, communicating what would happen if he came closer.

Chest pumping, preparing for the fight, he looked at me over his shoulder. His face was a mask of fury, still mostly man, but his hound’s muzzle elongated his jaw, and his canines were extended and impossibly sharp. “Do whatever you have to do to keep yourself safe,” he said, his voice blending with the beast. “And if it looks like he’s winning, run and don’t look back. Call Relic.”

I dipped my chin and he turned away. No fucking way. If he looked like he was losing, I was using my blade, and I’d make damned sure he didn’t lose.

A rustle came from the right, and Warrick collapsed onto all fours, his body exploding into his hound form—

Edric burst through the trees and Warrick charged him. Their bodies collided with a horrific sound. They tore at each other, rolling around the clearing, massive jaws gnashing, claws tearing. I didn’t wait, I grabbed my bag of salt and Thornheart cemetery dirt and sprinted to the edge of the campsite, then stabbing a hole in the bag, ran it around the perimeter, to trap the spirit inside, like Warrick and I had planned.

Warrick slashed at him and Edric sprang away, making a run for the edge of the clearing right as I closed the circle. He came to a jarring halt, flying backward, falling heavily to his back.

I sprinted for my smaller salt circle, leaping over body parts and scattered camping equipment, sliding in gore and blood. Edric got to his feet and spun, his red gaze locking on me as I made it to safety.

He snarled and charged me. Warrick slammed into his side, knocking him down, and they went at each other again. I lowered myself to my knees and started chanting, saying the words of the spell that would draw the spirit from Edric.

He fought harder, making a sound that lifted the hair on the back of my neck, thrashing against Warrick. I raised my voice as I lifted my hands, the words coming faster, louder.

Edric roared; it was earsplitting and filled with anguish. All Edric, not the spirit.

I snatched up the urn and used the small hand brush I’d brought to sweep away a section of salt, then held out the urn in front of me. Wind whipped around us, the roar coming from Edric mirrored by the soul now searching for a new host and only finding one.

The dead rat in the urn shrieked, and I slammed on the lid, screwing it tight. “I’ve got it.” I turned to Warrick, and my heart smashed against the back of my ribs.

Both males were on the ground and had shifted back. Warrick stared down at his brother, and Edric’s harsh breaths burst through gritted teeth.

“Talk to me, brother,” Warrick said.

The other hound fisted his hair, then smashed his fist into the side of his own head. “Kill me,” he snarled.

Warrick shook his head. “You’re safe now.”

Edric grabbed Warrick’s shoulders. “What I did…what I’ve done. Women…children. I killed them all, their screams of fear, of agony, they’re in my head. Kill me. Please.”

Warrick searched his gaze, and I could tell he was going to tell him no.

“I’ll kill again…I’m barely holding on,” Edric rasped, eyes flashing to the brightest of reds.

He was about to go feral.

Warrick’s expression was made of stone as he pressed his open palm against Edric’s chest, right over his heart. “I’ll send you home, brother.”

Edric nodded.

Without pause, Warrick grabbed each side of Edric’s head and twisted, snapping his neck with one brutal move. Then he stood and opened his clenched fist. Flames danced on his palm and shot from his hand, setting Edric ablaze before he had a chance to heal enough to reawaken from the merciful death Warrick had given him.

Warrick turned to me then, his eyes bright gold. “Get back, dove.”

I quickly gathered my things and rushed to the edge of the campsite, watching as Warrick burned it all, hellfire spitting from his hands, incinerating human bones to nothing but ash.

Then he strode toward me. He was covered in bite marks and scratches, but they were already healing. His chest was pumping hard, his body held rigid.

As he passed by, I grabbed his hand. “Warrick…”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I have to go.”

He tried to move again, and I stopped him a second time.

He snarled and shook his head.

I wrapped my arms around him. He may not have a soul, he may not think he was capable of love, and maybe that wasn’t what this was, but he was hurting. He felt this. Deeply. He’d just killed one of his brothers and sent his soul back to Hell, and he was in pain. Anger, grief radiated from him like intense black waves. He didn’t move, just remained rigid in my arms as I squeezed him tighter, the oil on my skin mixing with the blood on his.

The need in me to ease the pain he was feeling was so impossibly strong that I slid my hands over his broad shoulder and looked into his eyes. Shadows and light danced across his skin from the fire still blazing at the campsite, and I reached up and cupped his bearded jaw. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

His lips peeled back, incisors still extended, and he growled. The look in his eyes was one I’d never seen before, pain, confusion…god, fear. My hound’s default emotion was anger, it was the only one he truly understood. He didn’t know how to process all he was feeling and had reverted to the basest part of him.

His beast.

I lifted my other hand to his face, my oily, naked skin sliding over his, smearing with more of his blood. His hand shot up, and he grabbed my throat. Like the last time he’d done it, it wasn’t to intimidate, it was pure possessiveness. His thumb moved to my fluttering pulse, and he shook his head, warning me off.

He could never be mine, for a lot of reasons.

But I cared about him, enough to know I couldn’t just settle for animal need with him. It couldn’t just be sex, not for me. My beautiful, vicious, soulless hellhound couldn’t offer me more than that, though, and knowing that was all we shared would eventually shatter my heart into a million pieces.

Unlike him, I’d grow old and frail. I’d die. How long would he want me once I was wrinkled and gray. I didn’t want to know the answer to that.

I would only ever be a blip of time in his immortal life. He and I, we were never meant to be. It was impossible.

But I could give him now.

Because there was no moving on with my life without knowing what it was like to be with him, to give him all of me and have him give me all he was capable of in return. So I ignored his warning and urged him down as I lifted to my tiptoes.

With a tortured snarl, he released my throat and snatched me off my feet, his mouth slamming down on mine. I wrapped my legs around his thick waist, and he stepped forward, my back making contact with a rough tree trunk. He attacked my mouth, a kiss so brutal, so full of need, all I could do was hold on and surrender to it, surrender to him.

The hard, thick length of his cock was pressed between our stomachs, and he rocked against me, grinding it between our slippery, sticky bodies. One of his hands slid down between my breasts and he cupped one, lifting it as he dipped his head, sucking a tight nipple into his mouth.

I threw my head back and cried out. It was too much already. The base of his cock rubbed against my clit as he thrust between us and tugged harder on my nipple. I came, unable to hold back, shuddering against him.

I’d barely got my breath back when he shoved two fingers inside me. I groaned, my thighs shaking. “I want you.”

His growl was vicious. “You’re gonna get me.” He pressed his forehead to mine, flashing sharp white teeth, and added a third finger, then continued to use them to fuck me deep and fast. “Promise me you’re ready, dove? Promise me.”

I nodded, gasping as his thumb did a devastating circle around my clit, as his fingers deep inside me worked my G-spot.

Oh goddess.

I screamed again, coming a second time. I was still fluttering around his fingers when he yanked them free, lifting me away from the tree and spinning me so my back was to his front.

He brushed my hair to the side and his mouth touched my ear as he gripped the back of my neck. “Hands and knees, dove.”

I shuddered, my entire body quivering with need, somehow still turned on after already coming twice. He applied pressure to the back of my neck, and I dropped to my knees, then down on all fours.

Warrick came down behind me, his massive body covering me completely, his mouth back at my ear. “You need to relax and accept me.” He gritted his teeth against my skin. “It’s going to feel like too much, but you can take me. You just need to let me in.” His hand covered my breast and he squeezed. “You gonna let me in, Willow?”

At the sound of my name on his lips, my heart went wild in my chest. My body was aching, my pulse racing, desperate for what was about to happen, what we’d been building up to for so long. “Yes,” I rasped.

“The first time I fuck you will be like the animal I am, it’s what I need, what the beast in me needs.” He dragged his tongue up the side of my throat and nipped my ear as his hand slid down my stomach and between my legs, cupping me possessively. He pressed his middle finger in, making me moan. “You’ll get off on it, dove, you’ll love the way I fuck you.”

I shuddered again. “Warrick.” There was no missing the hunger, the desperate need, in my voice. I was basically begging for him to give that to me, and I didn’t even care.

“I’m here, dove,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.” His other hand went to my hip, while he rubbed, circled, between my thighs, spreading my wetness. My hips rocked against his fingers all on their own, seeking more. His hand left me, and I heard him spit before he was back, rubbing my pussy again. “Oil?”

“I don’t need it.” I’d never been so wet.

“Trust me, it’ll help,” he said and squeezed my hip again.

“In my bag.” There was a rustling, the sound of the lid opening. I looked over my shoulder and watched as he dripped the oil on his hand and rubbed it over his huge cock. My inner muscles clenched with need.

“Brace,” he growled.

I did as he said, digging my palms into the softly packed earth, then the head of his cock was against me. He pressed forward, sliding in an inch, and my head dropped, hanging from my shoulders as a low groan left me.

His big, rough-skinned hand rubbed up and down my back. “Can feel you clenching, dove. Don’t fight it.”

I blew out a breath, forcing my muscles to relax, and he slid in another inch.

“Fuck, that’s it. Made for me, every fucking part of you was made for me.” He growled and pushed in more.

I gasped for air, balancing on a precipice between pleasure and pain, wanting to pull away and push back all at the same time. Warrick decided for me. One hand on my shoulder, the other on my hip, he filled me, sliding in to the hilt.

I clawed at the forest floor, so full of him, surrounded by him, his heat, his scent, a writhing mix of pleasure and pain, I felt like I was spinning out of control.

Then with a snarl, he let go of my waist, hooked his arm under my hips, lifting me higher, and slid out. I was shaking uncontrollably and involuntarily jerked forward, not sure I was ready for him to fill me again. But he hauled me back, sliding all the way in once more, and I cried out.

This time there was less resistance, this time the pleasure outweighed the pain. He did it again, and I came with a high-pitched scream, the orgasm hitting me out of nowhere.

Warrick roared, all beast now, and fucked me faster, harder. “My dove loves the way her hound fucks her. Rough like an animal in the dirt.”

“Yes.”

“The way you feel…” He hissed, then barked out words that were more like harsh sounds, his language, and the same thing he’d said in the shower after he’d licked my scratched thighs and again in the cave when he’d been trying to wake me. “So tight, clutching at me.” He nipped at the side of my neck. “I’m losing my fucking mind, female, finally being inside you.”

He wasn’t the only one. I rocked back, shoving him deeper, and Warrick seemed to snap. If I thought he was fucking me before, I’d been wrong. All I could do was surrender to it, to him. His strong arms held me in place as he tugged me back, slamming forward, taking me like he’d promised.

It was too much, all of it, too intense. “I’m going to come,” I said. How was that possible?

“Wait for me,” he ordered.

I wasn’t sure I could. I could feel him growing larger inside me with every thrust, and if he wasn’t holding me up, I’d be flat on the forest floor. When he rocked back the next time, I was tugged back as well. Oh god, he was locked in place like he’d told me.

He groaned. “Don’t move.” Then I felt his teeth at my shoulder, his canines breaking skin as he held me tightly to him, rotating his hips and pulsing inside me, deep and strong. Each throb of his cock heightened my pleasure and the heat of his seed flooded me, setting off my own orgasm. The bite didn’t hurt, it warmed, tingled, somehow took me higher.

Finally, he released my shoulder and his roar echoed around the forest, startling sleeping birds from the trees, while I cried out helplessly, surrendering to the pleasure—to him.

His hips continued to rock until he wasn’t locked in place anymore, until he could slide in and out of me again, and all the while, his hand coasted up and down my spine, soothing, comforting.

He licked my shoulder several times, over his bite, making me shiver, then he slid out, and still behind me, he gripped my jaw and turned my head. “My dove,” he said, and kissed me, deep, calming.

I’d never heard that tone in his voice before, and it warmed me. God, I was barely conscious. Warrick laid me on the ground, and I heard him gathering our things. When I could move, he helped me dress, then lifted me off the ground, holding me to his chest.

“I can walk,” I said.

He pressed a kiss to my lips and held me closer. “I know.”

Then he carried me out of the forest.