Darkness Consuming: A Reverse Harem Series (The Severed Souls Series Book 2) Page 4

  Fuck, I want her.

  I pull back just slightly, just enough to see her hooded and sexy eyes.

  And then I say the one thing that’ll piss her off and prove that I’m right.

  “Could you have imagined that?”

  Chapter Eight

  Alone Once Again

  Violence

  I’d never be able to imagine that. The first time wasn’t at all like that. The first time was a consuming roar of tangling magic. This time it was only us. Just our emotions.

  And my emotions are spiraling all through me right now. My orgasm tingles through every nerve in my body, and I tremble against his hard chest.

  His muscles are tight beneath my touch, my nails sinking into the smooth skin of his shoulders. I can’t look at him. If I look up at his gorgeous face, I’ll kiss him.

  Or worse.

  The crook of his neck is smooth against my lips, and I keep my face buried there for several long moments; so long that he finally loses his tormenting confidence. It seems to slip away as he pushes his hands slowly down my back.

  He simply holds me.

  Without any questions, he holds me.

  And I lean into his comfort. He feels so good. He feels like he’s the only person in the entire world right now and I never want to let him go.

  I’m terrified to let him go.

  “I’m here, Vi. I’m right here.” Warm breath fans across my neck and still I keep my eyes closed. I’m afraid to open them. I’m terrified if I open my eyes, the euphoric feeling he just gave me will slip away, allowing the dread and anxiety to tumble right back in.

  “Where are you really?” My question is quiet and comes out on a shaking breath.

  He’s really here. Or … a part of him is anyway.

  His big palm strokes down my hair as his body melds closer to mine.

  “Right now, I’m sitting on the outskirts of town. Link and I have been staying in the meadow you like so much.” A pause settles between his thoughts. “It reminds me of you. It’s quiet and beautiful there.”

  His words cause a warm feeling to wrap around me and his honesty seems to force me to look at him.

  “How are you here?” His full lips hold my attention as my fingers skim up the angle of his jaw.

  He feels so real. He doesn’t really look it though. That odd glow of his skin makes him appear like a soul itself.

  “I’m not entirely sure. We made a trip to the Reveries, and I’ve been smoking offerings for days just to be here with you.” The corner of his lip tilts.

  I can’t believe he went to the Reveries. The two of them must have been desperate to visit those Witches. I’m surprised they helped him at all.

  “Why isn’t Link here too?”

  At my mention of Link, his attention falls from me, his hands slip away from me until there’s a fraction of space between him and I.

  “He wanted to be. He tried to be. When he tried the offering with me … nothing happened. He can’t do this for some reason; whatever this is.”

  For a second, I try to imagine what it would have been like, had it been Link here instead of Nollix. If Link were here, I’d continue thinking he was a hallucination for weeks. He isn’t as open as Nollix. He never would have offered to fuck me to prove he was real. But I do think he would have eventually gotten through to me in a sweeter, gentler way.

  “So wherever this is, Link can’t come here.” My brows lower as I try to make sense of it all. “But you can.”

  “Maybe he’s not strong enough.” The logical way he says it makes me cock a brow at him.

  Goddess, his ego is massive.

  “Or maybe he’s not as good at smoking offerings.” My eyes narrow on his. “It could be anything really.”

  Where the hell could my father have taken us? Where would he be hiding?

  My brows crease. I just don’t know.

  His fingers tangle through mine, pulling my attention back to him.

  “I have to go.” His eyes close slowly. His jaw tightens as if pain is searing him from the inside out.

  He’s never left me like this before.

  “Are you all right?” I take a step closer to him. The anguish on his face makes my heart stumble.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure this out. I’ll be back.” He says it so promisingly I almost believe him.

  Almost.

  But something twisting low in my stomach tells me otherwise.

  “I’ll be right back, Vi.” His image becomes fainter, lighter and less intense.

  My heart thunders in my ears. I feel fucking helpless. I hate it. I hate not being able to control anything around me.

  I hate being alone.

  My fingers clutch onto his hand, pulling him closer to me but his fingers drift through my touch. He’s barely a breeze before me.

  At the last minute, I slam my lips against his. It’s an eager and pathetic attempt at keeping him here. His palms ghost over my flesh along my jaw and before my eyes can even slip closed, before I can even find comfort in his kiss …

  He’s gone.

  Chapter Nine

  Desperate Times

  Nollix

  Three days. It’s been three days and I’m still thinking about the way she kissed me.

  She kissed me like she actually wanted me.

  That feeling’s never happened to me in my fucking life.

  And unfortunately, it hasn’t happened since. Because I can’t fucking get to her. I’ve been smoking offerings like I’m trying to see the goddess herself and the only thing it’s given me is more pain.

  Another deep inhale of the wafting smoke fills my lungs until I cough the stench back up.

  “Let it go. You’re going to give yourself a damn nosebleed.” Link looks at me with dark rings circling his eyes. All the restful nights I’ve had with Violence have been the opposite for him. He’s sat here just waiting the entire time.

  Let it go.

  Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

  I’ll eat this offering shit and force the high to take effect before I ever just give the fuck up.

  I turn the coarse herbs over and over in my palm, trying to understand why it won’t do what I want it to do. Some people say there’s a tolerance for drugs. You need more and more to achieve the same effect after a while.

  … Do I make another trip to the Reveries? Come crawling over to them like some sort of offering addict looking for their next fix?

  Fuck, I guess I will.

  I stand abruptly. The grass beneath me lays at bent angles. It’s pushed down and wilting from the abundance of time I spent in this exact same spot.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the Reveries. This isn’t strong enough. I need a new offering, I think. I need—I need something else.”

  Link’s bright eyes dart across my features. The look he gives me is one I’ve seen him give Jeriko a thousand times. It’s a look that says I’m out of my damn mind.

  Maybe I am.

  “You really think more offerings from those Elder Witches is the best solution?” Anger strikes across his face. “You haven’t even been looking for her any more. You’re just zoning out and hiding away with her. You’re choosing her company over her freedom. You’re being a selfish fuck.” His jaw snaps closed as if he’s forcing himself not to say more.

  Rage rips through me but it doesn’t seem to process in my mind. I simply stare at him.

  Because he’s right.

  I can’t have her here with me, so I’m settling for just being there with her.

  Which doesn’t help anyone.

  “I’m still going. They knew. They knew I’d be able to find Violence. Their babbling bullshit better be able to tell me how they knew.”

  Before I can even turn my back on my friend, he says something that stops me in my tracks.

  “You’re right. Let’s go.”

  Guilt sinks through my stomach.

  It’s then that I remember he loves her.


  Sadly, I know he loves her in a way I might never understand.

  Chapter Ten

  Words of Encouragement

  Linkin

  There’s a bitterness within me from knowing he can have her and I can’t. He can hold her and keep her safe while I sit here and just pray to every god I can that she’s all right. While I sit and do absolutely nothing.

  That’s going to change. I have to do something.

  Anything.

  The last fucking thing I said to her terrified her. I scared the shit out of her just by saying ‘I love you’ …

  We were friends, we were always friends, and I screwed that up.

  “How can we find where she’s being held?” I keep my anxious words steady, trying to contain my anger and fear beneath a smooth and calming tone.

  The Witch who helped us last time is still disconnected from her sisters. She sits on the ground weaving new bundles of dried herbs. Big white eyes look up to meet my gaze and a chill runs through me at the sight of her empty gaze.

  “Reach back into the depths of your thoughts.” The melody of her tone is almost in sync with the humming tune of her sisters who sway together beneath the full shine of the moon. “Find where you found her last, and who you seek will come to you first.”

  Her attention lingers on Nollix before she carefully ties another bundle. My eyes close slowly, hating how bizarre her words are. It’s like these women have been alive for so long they’re starting to forget how basic communication works.

  Then it clicks in my mind. Maybe they haven’t forgotten at all.

  It makes perfect sense.

  “Where we found her last, where she was last, was in the bell tower. They’re saying she’s where we saw her last. Where I saw her last was in the bell tower. And remember the weird shit Vi said about how much her father loved that place. His place of peace.”

  My words stumble as I look to Nollix only to find him planted in the open spot among the chanting sisters. The thick smoke wafts around their bodies, curling around my friend like it’s trying to pull him in. The bright eyes of the Reveries are held on him and I see it as he starts to drift under.

  “You should check again.” The other sister is closer to me, her voice is quiet but assured. Her straightforward comment pulls my gaze back to her and she doesn’t look at me as she ties the small bundle together in a tight bow. “And take this with you.” Her slender hand extends to me, presenting me another offering that doesn’t do me one damn bit of good. It could help Nollix though.

  I take it from her at once. Her glossy eyes absorb the pale moonlight making them a shining color of emptiness.

  “Where you wander is not where your journey will lead.” My stomach turns with every eerie word she speaks. What she says next makes my heartbeat falter and nearly halt with a heavy silence. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions while other hopeful travels are made of aspiring dreams, love, and ambitions. Sometimes both roads lead to the same despair.”

  Is it too much to ask for some words of encouragement around here?

  Chapter Eleven

  The Warlock

  Cameron

  Twenty-five days. The only reason I know it’s been twenty-five days is by the number of molding dinner plates that are towering at my side. They teeter and clatter together every time I shift in my small spot on the floor.

  The closet is stifling. It’s cramped and dirty. On the first day he threw me in here, I thought I’d be sick from the constant hot air. Thank the goddess I wasn’t because I’d be stuck in here with the disgusting mess. On day two, I realized my power is a hum of quiet energy in this place. It’s painful and weak when I try to call on it. On day three, I broke one of the plates and when he arrived with my next meal, I rammed the sliver of porcelain into the King’s stomach. The wound didn’t deter him for even an instant. He didn’t kill me; beat the shit out of me, but didn’t kill me.

  He didn’t kill me because I’m tied to her.

  She’s alive and near. I can tell she’s near. My chest aches with a hinting pressure every time she comes close to my little prison. I push my fingers over my slick forehead and attempt to think this through.

  The aching feeling within my heart reminds me of our bond. I physically feel her. Footsteps tap just above my head. It’s a pacing sound that makes energy course all through me. I stand from my small spot in the three by three space.

  I have no idea how to get her attention. The magic within my veins swarms to life but it’s a dull and tiresome feeling.

  Fuck it.

  I guess the King’s fine china is going to have to be sacrificed. My grandmother raised me better than this. She’d be so disappointed in me. More—she’d be more disappointed in me. Her gold and white vintage tea sets flash before my mind as I take the plate in my hand.

  “Sorry, Gran.”

  With as much force as I possess, I chuck the plate in the air. It hits hard against the dark ceiling. I tilt my head down as chunks of the porcelain rain down on me. It pelts against my hair and shirt and I barely give it time to clatter to the floor before I throw the next one.

  My boots crunch over the debris. A small, logical part of my mind tells me I’ll have to lie in this mess I’ve made, but a more insistent part of me knows this is my one chance. Over and over again, I chuck the plates into the air. The sound of the smashing china against the walls of my iron imprisonment seems to fuel my determination. So much so, that I don’t even notice when she opens the door.

  Warm but dim lighting glints across the falling pieces and it’s then that I realize I’m not alone during my little temper tantrum. My boots grind the broken bits into the metal floor as I turn.

  Her wide eyes assess everything about me. I swallow awkwardly when her gaze trails down my dirty clothes to the white china that litters every inch of the floor.

  Hesitantly, she reaches out to me. Without a word, I take her hand and I stumble when she pulls me from the room. The warmth of her body soaks into me when she hugs me to her soft curves. My hands tense in midair for a moment before I finally wrap my arms around her.

  Goddess, she feels amazing. She smells amazing. Every single thing about her is nothing short of amazing.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers against my chest.

  I hate that she feels guilty because of the King. I know she hates him. No one in their right mind would have willingly helped me retrieve the book unless they hated the King.

  I try to pull back but she keeps me held against her.

  “It’s not your fault, Violence.” When I say I tried to pull away from her, I mean I tried with minimal effort. I love the way she feels. The soft curves of her body calm me for the first time in weeks.

  Those guys from the Wild Hunt hate me for touching her. That thought alone makes my hands push lower down to the small of her back.

  It’s the most natural thing in the world to hug another person. For some reason it feels different though. It makes my heart pound just from feeling her skin against mine.

  I thought I was going to die in that fucking closet. I thought he’d eventually murder me in the most gruesome and torturous of ways.

  And right now, I’ve never felt more alive.

  Chapter Twelve

  If You Show Me Yours

  Violence

  He looks so broken. The white shirt that hugged his chest so well when I last saw him is loose. Dirt and blood stain it. A small tear cuts through the fabric near the bottom, revealing more dirt and blood on his abdomen.

  The bathtub in the corner of my room steams with hot water as it slowly fills. It’s late. My father might notice his prisoner’s absence at some point, but until then, I’ll keep him hidden here in my room.

  What will he do when he discovers Cameron missing?

  Cameron’s hands raise, and as he starts to pull his shirt off, my thoughts slip away into complete nothingness. I wish I had the decency to look away from him. It’s the casualness of it all. He doesn’t turn a
way and for some pathetic reason, neither do I.

  Etching lines of muscle define his chest. The bulk of his once strong body is leaner. There’s no soft edges to his strength now, only hard lines. His arms are corded and flex with every move he makes. When his thumbs poise over the button of his jeans, he pauses, his attention flickering to me. It’s only a second that passes before he unzips. His thumbs hook into the band of his jeans and when the veering lines of his hips reveal the hard base of his cock, I finally turn away.

  I face the wall, my eyes slipping closed as a heavy breath falls from my lungs.

  What is wrong with me?

  Water sloshes. A beat passes before I turn slowly around. He watches me as he rubs a white wash cloth across his glistening skin.

  “You can come over here. I won’t bite, Violence.”

  An embarrassing hum of laughter shakes through me. It’s a nervous sound that makes me want to roll my eyes at myself.

  With a slow inhale, I walk over to him. He’s naked. Bare chested and perfect looking. Amber eyes that seem to see everything about me watch me carefully.

  I hope he’s the same. I hope my father hasn’t changed him. He was so sweet and kind and funny. What if my father ruined him the way he ruined me?

  “Have you ever seen a guy naked, Vi?” I can’t help but look away from his question.

  Unfortunately—not too unfortunately, I suppose—I look right at his dick. My gaze darts away to the far wall.

  My brows raise as I stare at the spot far, far away from his erection. He’s… bigger than I thought he’d be.

  Not that I’ve thought about it.

  “Um, not really, no.” I think about how rushed the only time I had sex was. It’s a fond memory of my old life but it’s not really anything special to remember. Losing my virginity will always be sentimental in a way but I can only hope sex gets better.

  Please, goddess, let it get better.

  His lips part but he doesn’t speak immediately. Water drips down from his dark hair, streaming down his handsome face.

  “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He pauses once more, his gaze finally finding mine. “I’m a virgin too.” It’s such a quiet confession it makes my laughter that follows it sound much louder and harsher than it really is.