A Curse in Darkness by Sherilee Gray

Chapter 24

Willow

I dried off,then stared at my naked reflection in the bathroom mirror. I barely recognized myself. My hair was wild, my eyes bright, lips swollen. My gaze traveled lower, taking in the now colorful thorny vines decorating my skin. Bruises from fighting, and other things—I looked down at my hips, at the massive handprints marking my flesh where Warrick had held me tight.

I liked them, the bruises he’d given me. I liked the way they looked on my skin.

And I liked him—more than liked him—but how I felt didn’t matter. There were bigger things at stake.

I turned and looked at my shoulder. His bite had completely healed, only two dark pink marks remained where his canines had sunk deep. He’d marked me.

Marks like these, they were what Rebecca would have seen on Jane’s shoulder. The marks Maddox had given to Jane, his mate. I shivered, then shoved the thought from my mind.

That’s not what this is.

Of course, it wasn’t.

Last night, he’d brought me home, laid me in bed, and left.

That said it all, really.

I mean, I assumed he went to talk with his brothers to let them know what happened with Edric. But he hadn’t come back. I’d laid awake waiting for him for hours. I guess I should be relieved he hadn’t returned. It made what I had to do today a lot easier. I told myself that, anyway.

We’d had sex, that’s all. That’s all it was. I swallowed hard when my stupid heart clenched in denial. I ignored it and reminded myself that Warrick spoke of animal attraction, of his need for me, never affection, never more than the physical.

At least there was no chance of pregnancy since I was on the pill, and with the way the hounds healed, they didn’t have diseases of any kind.

Quickly dressing, I checked in on Rose before I left.

She was propped up in bed, a mountain of pillows behind her, and Mom was feeding her oatmeal. My sister was struggling to choke it down.

“Hey,” she said when she saw me, her voice as weak as the rest of her.

I strode in and dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I have to head out for a while, but if you’re up for it later, maybe we could watch a movie?”

She smiled up at me. “I’d…I’d love that.”

I forced a smile in return when all the while I was shattering on the inside seeing her like this.

Warrick wasn’t downstairs either when I got there.

“Yo,” Relic called after me. “Where you going? War will want to know what you’re doing.”

“Just lunch with a friend. I’ll be back in a couple hours.” Then I walked out, got in the Morris and tore out of there.

The alpha would know where I was, of course, but hopefully, if he thought I was just with a friend, he wouldn’t come looking for me. Him showing up was the last thing I needed.

The restaurant Clayton chose for us to meet was frequented by the who’s who of our world, and an uneasy feeling hit me as soon as I walked in. Had he chosen this place for a reason?

Of course he hadn’t, he was grieving. Could I be anymore paranoid? I doubted he’d given the location a second thought.

I spotted him across the room, and he stood, lifting a hand, waving me over.

When I reached him, he pulled me in for a friendly hug and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. “Wills, I’m so glad you asked to meet.”

“How have you been?”

His easy smile dropped. “Not so great, if I’m honest.”

“That’s to be expected. You lost your mom.”

He dragged in a shaky breath. “I miss her, a lot.”

I squeezed his hand. There was no missing the truth to his words, his aura spoke volumes. There was pain but also anger. All completely understandable. But with these families—the ones with power, money—it wasn’t the norm to share how you felt or show it. It was seen as a weakness. “I’m so sorry, Clay.”

He dipped his chin and visibly pulled himself together. “So I assume you invited me here because you have some idea who hurt her?”

“I’m sorry, no. I have no idea who hurt your mom or Magnolia. But I promise, I won’t stop until I do.” Though right now, I wasn’t sure how I would do that. They were using dark magic to cover their tracks—and breaking every one of our covenants in doing so.

Clayton’s brows lowered. “Oh, I just assumed…” He cleared his throat. “Well, I appreciate you taking the time to check on me.”

I chewed my lip and sat straighter in my chair. “There’s another reason I asked you to meet with me, actually.”

His head tilted to the side, his blue eyes meeting mine. “Oh?”

You’re doing this for Rose. Just say it. “The offer you made, is it still on the table?”

His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “Of marriage?”

Everything in me recoiled at the idea, but then I thought of the way Rose had looked this morning, and I pushed on. “Yes.”

Color hit his cheeks and his eyes widened. “Truly? I just assumed…I saw the pictures on Nightscape. I thought you and the hound…”

“This has nothing to do with Warrick.” I couldn’t talk about him, not with Clayton, not at all. If I did, I’d run out of here and never come back.

“Okay.”

“Rose is…she’s really sick. We need help, Clay. That was the deal, yes? You said you’d get your researchers to help her?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.” He reached out, covering my hand with his. “I will put everything I have, every resource, money, research into finding a cure for her.” He gave my fingers a squeeze. “But I don’t just want a marriage of convenience, Willow. I want a real one. I want us to make a real go of things.”

“I can’t give you that, not yet. Maybe not ever. I’m sorry, but if we’re doing this, I want us to be honest with each other.” We were both getting something out of this—he, power and access to our cemetery, me, money and resources. As far as I was concerned, that was enough.

“I believe love can grow, if we both give it our all,” he said. “My parents’ marriage was arranged and they grew to love each other. It can be the same for us, if you’re willing to try.”

“I’m not sure I believe in love,” I said, even as something deep inside called me a liar.

“That’s because you’ve never been in love, Wills. I hope to change your mind about that.” A smile spread across his face.

“I’m not playing coy, Clayton. I’m not here to lead you on. This is a business transaction first and foremost.”

He took my hand again. “Will you at least promise not to close that door?”

It wouldn’t change a thing. I knew it down to my bones. There was only one male I wanted, would ever want. “Fine,” I said. It was a lie, and I didn’t feel good about it, but if that’s what he needed to hear to do this, so be it. “So you’re saying yes? You’ll help me, you’ll help my sister?”

He smiled. “Yes. It’s a yes to both.”

“Even if this thing between us is never what you want?” I couldn’t help pushing. I didn’t want this to be an issue later on. “Even if we just end up remaining friends and nothing more?”

“Yes,” he said. “But you will remain open to more?”

“I said I would.”

“That means we live in the same house; we work at getting to know each other again. That we attend functions as a married couple. To anyone looking, that’s what we are. And I get full access to your cemetery. This marriage is supposed to be mutually beneficial, after all.”

I nodded, my stomach in knots. “Of course. How soon?”

“Rose is that unwell?”

“Yes.”

His eyes filled with sympathy and determination as well. “As soon as our engagement is announced, I’ll get the ball rolling.”

“Thank you. I just need a few days. I want to tell my family first.”

“Would you like me to be with you?”

This news was not going to go down well, not any of it. “I think it’s best if I do it alone.”

“Okay,” he said, then waved for a waiter.

We ordered lunch. I wanted to leave, but it seemed rude, considering I’d just agreed to marry him, even if it was in name only.

The food arrived, and Clay ordered champagne.

He smiled at me. “We’re celebrating, right?”

“What are we celebrating?” a smooth voice said behind me.

I turned in my seat and Isaac Eldridge stood behind us, a polite smile on his thin lips.

“This is a private party, Eldridge,” Clayton said, gaze darkening. “And you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Clay,” I bit out.

Clayton drew in a shaky breath and smiled at me. “Apologies.”

Isaac’s dark gaze slid to me. “If this is what I think it is, you chose wrong, sweetheart.”

Jesus.

“If you’ve finished, we’d like to enjoy our lunch in peace,” Clay said to him.

Isaac didn’t look away from me, and something slithered up my spine. “Give me a call if you change your mind.” Then he winked and walked out.

“Goddamn it,” I said and shoved my chair back.

“Don’t leave,” Clay said. “Stay, ignore that asshole.”

“He knows, Clayton. It will be all over the city, all over Nightscape by the end of the day. I need to talk to my family.”

He stood. “You’re right. Sorry, I didn’t handle that very well.”

“It’s…it’s fine. But I need to go.”

He pulled me into his arms, and my instinct was to shove him away, but I forced myself not to. Recoiling in public at your fiancé’s touch probably wasn’t the best way to keep him on your good side. Yes, I was using him, but he was using me as well. I was doing this for Rose and Rose alone.

He pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll call you later.”

I nodded and got the hell out of there.

* * *

My phone rang as I parked outside the house. Pulling it out of my satchel, I checked the screen. My heart seized.

Ren.

“Ren? Is that you?”

Some choppy breathing echoed down the line.

“Ren?” Had the spirit released him?

An awful laugh filled the space between us. No, not him, it was the monster living inside him.

“Let him go,” I gritted out. “Release him.”

He giggled, then someone screamed, and the line went dead. Goddammit. I couldn’t even find him through his GPS because he’d turned it off when he went to train with the hounds, just in case his mom looked him up and freaked out.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I bit back a cry of rage, of fear, of utter hopelessness. My best friend was missing, possessed by an evil fucking spirit, Rose was sick with a mystery illness, someone had tried to kill Magnolia and was possibly planning to free Azel’s soul from Hell—the monster who had tortured and almost killed me—and I didn’t know what to do, how to stop any of it.

Nothing was fucking working—and the shadow seeking had given me nothing but nightmares. I’d contacted the knights, since Azel rising would affect them as well. But they assured me he was still in Hell, where he was supposed to be.

But for how long?

Shoving my door open, I climbed out.

Music traveled from Bram’s tree house, and I heard Mags laugh from inside. The carefree sound hit me hard, and suddenly I was finding it hard to breathe. She trusted me to keep her safe, they all did, and I had no idea how to do it, other than keep them here, and never let them leave, secure behind the wards I strengthened daily with the help of Else.

I wasn’t ready to tell them about Clayton, but now I had no damn choice. Isaac would more than likely be blabbing all over the city, or his mother would be anyway, in her outrage.

Laughter and voices traveled from the kitchen, and I slipped past. I needed a moment, just a few minutes, to gather my thoughts. I walked past Roe’s door and peeked in. She lay on her side, frail, eyes closed, asleep.

Tears stung my eyes, and I rushed past and shut myself in my room, the weight of everything crashing down on me. I fought against it. I had to be strong for them. One thing at a time. One step at a time.

There was a tap at the door. “Dove?”

I took a step back, looking for a place to hide. I couldn’t face him right now. The door opened before I could make an escape, though, and Warrick walked in, huge and untamed and utterly gorgeous. My stomach zapped, and my heart fluttered as his gaze ate me up.

“You’re back. You told your brothers about Edric?”

He nodded.

“That must have been hard.”

He grunted and advanced on me, and before I could get the words I needed to say out of my mouth, his lips were on mine. He kissed me in the way only Warrick could, possessive, hungry, giving, and demanding everything in equal measure. No games, just need, raw and honest.

When he lifted his head, a rumbling sound came from his chest and he dipped his head, his nose moving along my jaw, my cheek, and his head jerked back. “Someone touched you. Put his mouth on you,” he said, rubbing a spot on my cheek with his thumb like he was trying to rub Clayton’s kiss away.

“Yes, a friend of mine. We met for lunch.”

His brows dropped. “Your scent is different, dove, I can smell your fear. What the fuck is going on?”

I didn’t want to have this conversation with him. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d be angry, but what else could I do? I had to put my family first, not whatever this thing between us was. This wasn’t real. This was heat and sex and desire, nothing more.

Liar.

I closed my eyes and breathed through the pain filling my chest. He’d moved closer, backing me up, and I forced myself to look up at him as he trapped me between the wall and the heat of his body. He pressed his hands to the floral wallpaper on either side of me, caging me in. “Talk, dove. Now.”

I pressed my hands to his chest and looked up at him, needing him to understand, for him to make this easy on me, because I was cracking down the middle, and I didn’t want to shatter in front of him.

He scented me again and his nostrils flared. “You saw Whitlock.”

“You remember his scent?”

“He smelled like desperation and money and too much cologne, still does.” His eyes narrowed on me. “Why did you meet with him?”

Say it. Say it. You’re doing this for Rose, for your family. “Clayton…he wants to align with a powerful family, and Rose…she’s, she’s so incredibly sick. We need help, and he can give us that help…” I drew in a steadying breath. “We agreed to help each other out.”

“You’re talking in riddles, female. What are you saying?”

“I’ve agreed to marry him.”

Warrick jerked back, his face contorting, then he snarled, his eyes flashing to red and staying that way. “Like fuck. You are mine, I told you how it was. I told you what would happen when you gave yourself to me. I will tear that fucker’s head off before I ever let him come anywhere near you, do you hear me?”

His fury set off my fight-or-flight instincts. I didn’t reach for my blade, though, because he wasn’t going to hurt me, I knew that with everything in me. “If you kill him, it will hurt me. You said…you promised not to do that, not ever.”

His chest pumped, nostrils flared, and I watched, my pulse racing, as his incisors slid down, his mouth and jaw trying to reshape into his beast. “You became mine on that forest floor,” he said, voice melded with his beast. “You think I’ll just let you go?” He tilted his head back and roared.

“Stop,” I said, shoving at his chest. “You need to stop.” Tears stung my eyes, and I fought them back. “This is how it has to be, Warrick, how I want it to be, and I need you to accept it. I need you to walk away.”

“You don’t want him, this is some fucked-up deal.”

My hound, who didn’t play games, who said it like it was, expected the same from others, and if I didn’t lie to him now, he would never let me go, and he would go after Clayton.

I’d lose Rose.

So with every bit of internal strength I had left, I stared back into his gorgeous eyes and told him what I needed to. “It’s more than that.”

He stilled, taking me in, and he took an abrupt step back. His eyes stayed locked on mine. “You want this male?” he rasped.

“Yes, I want him. I’ve loved him since we were in high school.” More lies.

He was back in front of me in a second, his expression twisted with rage, and goddess, hurt. “No.”

“Yes,” I said, voice as strong as I could make it. “What you and I shared was just sex, animal attraction, like you said.”

“Dove…”

“Please, I need you to leave.” Before I break down in front of you, before you see for yourself how I really feel about you.

“Go,” I said, and shoved at him. He didn’t budge.

“No.”

“It’s over,” I said, my throat raw from holding back my tears. “Leave.”

He roared again and slammed his fist into the wall, punching almost right through it, gaze wild, confused.

It was like the night before, as if my hound was struggling to process what he was feeling, as if he didn’t understand what to do with it all. Or maybe it was as simple as he didn’t like to lose. It was easier to believe the latter, the former meant he might actually care for me, really, truly care, and I couldn’t handle that. That would break me.

I didn’t move, didn’t speak as he straightened, his eyes still locked on mine.

Finally, he leaned in, and I expected him to call me a bitch, to fire that anger at me, like a lot of guys did when they didn’t get their way. Instead, he leaned in, his big body shifting closer, and he buried his face against my throat and breathed deep like he always did, as if he were seeking comfort from me. I squeezed my eyes closed, pain lancing through me.

I loved him.

I was in love with him. With this wild, untamed male who didn’t know how to love me back.

It finally happened, the thing I’d spent my entire adult life trying to avoid, and as predicted, it was a complete and utter fuckup.

Then he lifted his head and stunned me by tucking my hair behind my ear with a gentleness I didn’t know he was capable of. “I’ll leave, but my brothers stay until you’re safe. You know where I am if you need me.”

Then he turned and walked out.