I made it back inside the house. I’d only looked back at Addie once, which I considered a win, because what I really wanted to do was run to her, hold her against me, and never let her go. My brothers and I didn’t need a martyr; we needed her.
Though, after tonight, it was clear we were not the only ones who needed her.
Forest was my alpha, and being the alpha came with a certain degree of respect automatically. I had to listen to his orders, unless they conflicted terribly with common sense, and only then could I challenge him. But Forest wasn’t the type of alpha to make any sketchy decisions; he was a good man, which was what made this so much harder.
Anyone with an inner wolf, let alone anyone with eyes, would’ve seen it coming, even before tonight. Hell, Caitlin and her mates saw it, and they’d hardly seen Forest and Addie together. The way Forest talked about her, the way he looked at her…it was like she already belonged to him.
But, and here’s the big thing, she didn’t. She wasn’t his. A part of the pack, yes, but his mate? No. That honor belonged to my brothers and me.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew if their wolves connected, it would be fighting a losing battle to try to keep them from each other. Was I upset? Not really. Jealous? A bit, but that’s to be expected when another mate stumbled into the fray.
Things were made even weirder because Forest was the alpha. At least in the history of the Crystal Lake pack, alphas had never shared mates. Being alpha, they had certain privileges. After Sarah ran off, Forest had come of age, taken over the pack because the previous alpha had neared sixty, and chose Hannah. I’d only been a kid at the time, but I could remember they were happy together, though they never had pups.
And then the death priest came along.
She was the first to disappear. Rumors went flying as to why she ran off, but now everyone knew she was only the first to fall prey to Clay. Years later, twenty-three other wolves missing, and Forest never took another mate.
He deserved to be happy, I thought, and if that happiness was with Addie, well, I’d be fine with it, as long as Forest didn’t try to pull rank and take Addie away from us. Now that I’d kissed her, now that I felt the pain in my chest with her absence, I didn’t want anyone else. My wolf didn’t want anyone else.
My thoughts of sharing Addie with Forest didn’t matter. She was gone, throwing herself at an enemy no one knew how to beat. She might have magic, might be able to stand on the same battleground as him, but her power was nothing compared to his. She might be one with her wolf, except for the form itself, but she stood no chance.
We had to do something. We had to get her back. She was ours, and we would fight for her, and hopefully kill Clay while we were at it. If Clay wasn’t dealt with, I knew the death priest would never stop, never cease in his machinations and his so-called experimentation. Maybe we could somehow use the wolf in the basement to track Clay—but if he was using magic, our noses would not help.
I took myself up the stairs, my footsteps quiet. With Addie being all self-sacrificing, I expected her mother to fight her decision, but instead she went upstairs? It didn’t make sense.
I heard her in the second bedroom, a room that had long since seen any inhabitants after Hannah was taken. I walked toward the door, finding it closed, as if Sarah needed privacy. Maze leaned an ear toward it, hearing no crying, no wailing, nothing at all. Only steady breathing.
Huh. That was weird.
I was seconds from entering when I heard her speak. My legs froze, my hand hovering above the door handle as I listened. Eavesdropping was not something I should be doing, but if it was more important than seeing Addie off, I had to know why.
“I don’t know if this is still your number,” Sarah was saying, “and I know it’s been years, but this is important. I’m back at Crystal Lake, long story. A death priest has been haunting the pack. He’s killed twenty-four shifters, Arthur, and now he’s got Addie. I know he wants to find the nature of the beast, but beyond that, I don’t know. If you’re listening to this, Adeline needs you. Please. You might be our only hope. Help me save our daughter.”
I felt my blood run cold. So the person on the other line, or at least the voicemail, was Addie’s dad? The warlock who stole Sarah from the pack. If she was calling him in, things didn’t bode well.
“Oh,” Sarah’s voice added, “and if you’re not Arthur, please ignore this message and delete.”
That was enough.
I went for the stairs, back out into the cool night air. Addie, Forest, and the rambling skeleton weren’t in sight. There was a pile of ashes in the road, but nothing more. I glanced at Dylan. “What happened?”
“The skeleton grabbed Addie,” his twin explained, “and then they both disappeared.”
Landon was busy frowning. “Forest must’ve had a change of heart, but it was too late. He couldn’t stop it. He’s gone off to check the town, make sure there are no other skeletons, make sure everyone got home safe. We’re supposed to stay here with Sarah and guard Jack.” He let out a short, annoyed growl. “Listen to me, calling the traitor Jack, just like…” His annoyance was quickly replaced by anguish. “Just like Addie.”
Sighing, I muttered, “Call me psychic, but I have a feeling things are going to get worse before they get better.”
Addie, I thought, please stay safe.
Chapter Twenty-Five – Addie
A pounding, raging headache warred inside my head as I struggled to come to, consciousness trying to dodge me left and right. Eventually, I was able to get a better hold on myself, though my eyes struggled to open. I tried moving, but my hands were bound before me, the sound of metal chains dragging across the floor as I tried to sit.
Great. Chained and drugged with magic. This was going so well already.
Once the metal clinking sound stopped, once I’d stopped moving, I heard the sounds of whimpering, of scampering feet and muffled voices. I opened my eyes, propping myself up.
Back in the murder cabin, only this time, it was a bit different. For one, I was not stuck inside a cage. Two giant metal cuffs surrounded my wrists, holding me to the floor by a chain that was only two feet long. Enough to move a little, but not much. Secondly, there was no blood staining the walls and the floor, no table of torture instruments resting in its center. The same fireplace sat on one of the shorter walls, burning a red flame.
“Hello, Addie,” a voice spoke, “about time you woke up. I was afraid you’d miss the show.” It was Clay’s voice, but it was off. Something about it was wrong, and it slithered up my spine like a spider. The words weren’t spoken distinctly, some of them blurring together, almost as if he had no lips.
Clay hovered over a man, leaning over him on his knees. The other man wore rags, layers and layers of holey, ragged clothing and an unkempt beard, dirt lining every wrinkle on his face. Older, at least fifty, his hair greying. His mouth was covered with a gag, his hands shackled much like mine were.
A homeless man? A human?
My instincts to protect kicked into overdrive, even though I had no idea who this human man was. “Clay, leave him alone!” I sounded brave, considering I was literally shaking in my ankle-high boots. The air in this place just felt wrong. Stale. Evil.
The death priest stood, straightening his back out before turning to face me. The human was shackled ten or so feet before me, far enough away it gave Clay the opportunity to walk slowly, measuredly to me, which then allowed me to see it all in the dancing red light from the fireplace.
He might’ve worn a crisp black suit, but underneath, there had to be nothing but a skeleton. His body was too thin, the hands beneath the gloves—of which he wore two—too small. His face and neck were the only bits of him that looked normal, and even those, I saw, were not whole.
A mask hung on his lower face, covering his mouth, his nose, and his jawline, as black as the paint that covered the rest of him. The white line drawn straight down the middle of his forehead continued over the mask, as if, even though he was los
ing himself to death, he could not let his fashion choice go.
“Such a protective little wolf you are,” Clay drawled on, kneeling before me. He reached a hand to my face, and through the satin gloves, I could feel the bones poking at me. This was the caress of death itself. “Dare I say, I look forward to getting to know you even more.” Every word spoken beneath his mask was like nails on a chalkboard, making me flinch.
I jerked away, as much as I was able to. “Don’t touch me.”
He chuckled, his chest making a hollow noise under his suit. “Addie, Addie, Addie. Don’t you see? You belong to me now. Every part of you—your wolf, your mind, your body—it’s all mine. Ever since you left me, you’ve been on borrowed time. I let you go, just as I let you take my pet. How is he, by the way? Has he miraculously shifted, become a real boy again?”
I crawled backward, hitting the wall with my back. The words he said…he had to be lying. He let me go? I thought…
Venom dripped from his off-kilter voice, “Oh, dear. You thought yourself some high-powered witch superstar, didn’t you? Poor thing. Life’s full of disappointments, isn’t it?” Clay tilted his head, his slicked-back hair moving slightly, his amber eyes boring into me like daggers, straight to the heart. “You silly, silly girl. Did you think you were the chosen one, destined to save the Crystal Lake pack?” He chuckled, a slick, juicy sound emanating beneath his suit. “You are but a hybrid, special in a way, but not the first of your kind. What makes you so important to me is your lineage, nothing more.”
My voice trembled, “My dad?”
“In a sort. But bravo, you’re finally getting it,” Clay whispered, hushed under the mask.
“But, you said…” I struggled to remember the words. “The weaknesses of none, the strengths of all—”
“Yes, the ultimate hybrid. Fortunately for my master’s work, all he needs from you is a bit of blood, which I plan to take from you by the bucket. Everything else, well…” Clay’s shoulders shook with laughter. “What can I say? I like to play.”
“Then what about the twenty-four wolves you murdered?” I shot back, growing a bit more of a backbone. “What about them?”
Clay’s brown eyes studied me. For a split-second, he looked human, as if he felt guilt for all he’d done, but it was gone just as fast as it appeared, replaced by glee as he said, “That was purely from a revenge standpoint. You see, Addie, I was sent to Crystal Lake for many reasons. One of them being to wait for you, and the other to whittle it away.”
A sense of horror, of complete and utter dread filled me. I wanted to vomit. “Why?”
“Sweet daddy and mommy dearest aren’t exactly close to my master. If anything, I’d say he hates them, for what they did. He knew all along, you know. Of your existence. The others might’ve been fooled, but nothing escapes Death.” The way he spoke of it, as if death were an entity.
Was death itself Clay’s master?
“Your mother,” Clay added, “was a bit of a whore, from what I hear—”
I fought the chains, but I could not reach his neck, could not even stand to attack him. I would never let a man like this talk about my mom in such a way.
“Don’t take it personally,” Clay spoke, his eyes flashing a glowing, haunting red. Immediately, my shackled hands fell to the floor between my legs, and no matter how I struggled to pick them up, I could not. “Like mother, like daughter, from what I hear.”
“You…” I found I could say nothing else. Or, rather, I spoke, but no sound came out. With his red magic, he’d taken my voice.
Clay stood, stepping away from me, eyes becoming their usual brown once more, so dark they were practically black. “Let me show you how us death priests work.” He slipped off his gloves, revealing skeletal hands. “You saw a bit last time, but that was old blood. And in your dreams, well, I couldn’t help but be a little dramatic. Now, you’ll have a front row view of it all.” His gloves turned to red mist as he dropped them, disappearing before they had the chance to hit the floor.
I wanted to turn away, to not watch, but I found I couldn’t. My eyes remained on him, practically unblinking, as he shed his clothes, piece by piece, each garment evaporating with maroon magic. His suit jacket, his button-up shirt, his pants. He took everything off until he stood before me, naked, save for the mask on his face.
And then…even that slipped off.
My stomach turned to stone. What stood before me was not a man. From his hands to his elbows, and from his feet to his thighs, he was nothing but bone. His shoulders, his hips—it was like layers were added, piece by piece. The veins, the muscle tissue, the ligaments, but no flesh. His entire stomach was revealed to me, his intestines and other organs a mishmash of pinks and reds above the pelvic bones that peeked out from beneath the muscle tissue on his upper thighs. An ivory rib cage was visible, encircling his lungs, which continued to expand and compress as he breathed in and out. Every organ was slick and wet, and I felt like being sick.
He wasn’t a man. He was…he was death walking. Was this what all death priests did? Was this what the price to their magic was?
I rose my stare to his face, my arms trembling around me.
He was missing his nose, which the mask had so easily mimicked, along with most of his lower face. His teeth were visible, a thin film of ligament stretching from his cheekbone to his bare jaw on both sides. No lips; I was right about that. My mind could almost not comprehend what I was seeing, because half of his face was normal, while the other half looked like it was taken straight out of a horror movie, as if someone had cut off pieces of him.
Clay, in that moment, was the most frightening thing I’d ever seen. He was the very definition of undying, a person whom death could never touch. My heart beat too fast; I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I couldn’t even call out to him, couldn’t try to stop him, as he turned to face the human man on the floor.
The man’s eyes widened, shock quickly turning into outright fear as he shook his head, sweat pooling on his bushy brows. He tried to crawl away, but the chains held him in place. A dark stain appeared on his pant legs, the smell of urine filling the air as Clay stood over him.
“It is harder than you think, keeping twenty-four skeletons alive and holding a barrier around an entire town,” Clay mused, grabbing the man by his neck, his skeletal grip tight. “It drained me faster than I thought—good thing I have you to refuel me, huh?” The black flesh around his eyes gathered as if he were smiling. He probably would be, if he had a mouth and not just teeth. Magic had to help him speak, because it looked like his tongue was only half-formed in his mouth, a grotesque display of an unnatural spell.
I was a captive audience. Clay’s eyes turned red, and I could not look away as the human’s flesh began to seep off his squirming form, like tiny sand particles in the air, traveling from the man to Clay. The skin was tan-colored, but after the layer was gone and the man’s red and tan muscle tissue was visible, the fragments turned to red. The human was an anatomy doll, living and breathing even as Clay sucked him dry.
Clay started to regenerate the moment the transfer began. His body started to fill in, the skeletal parts first, slowly forming the body of a man, his skin the final part to form, already painted black.
When the human man was nothing but a dried-up mummy of bones and dirty clothes, long since dead, Clay released his hold on the man’s neck, grinning as he crawled to me. He was now fully formed, wearing a madman’s grin, a smirk that told me I was in for a world of hurt, an expression that let me know just how big of a mistake I’d made.
I was going to die here.
Though he was completely naked, I could not move my stare away. His eyes, still glowing a bright red, bore into me. I could not talk, could not move. Once he reached me, his hands went to my knees, which were drawn up to my chest, pushing them down with force.
“Now,” Clay spoke, his teeth a blinding white against the black of his face, almost the same white as the single line traveling down
his body, “let’s get further acquainted, shall we?” The grin he wore only grew as a hand snapped to my throat, angling my face to his, blocking my breathing as well as my voice. “Why don’t you start by showing me everything you’ve been up to in the last few days?”
I had no choice but to show him through my thoughts. Even if I fought him, he’d just worm his way inside like a leech. I showed him Sarah, learning the truth about my father, every single moment I’d spent with the guys, with Jack. My regrettable encounter with Forest. Each kiss, each embrace, each spoken word; Clay saw it all.
It was when his red eyes returned to brown and he muttered a single word I knew I really fucked up by choosing to come.
“Interesting,” he whispered, and then my world went black. His voice came to me in my mind: We’re going to have so much fun together.
This was it.
This was the end.
Evermore
Chapter One – Addie
The feeling that arose in my body when I was with my mates was one of sheer, utter ecstasy. One of the best feelings in the world, if not the best. I felt like I was floating sometimes, losing myself in the clouds, untouchable by gravity and whatever else tried to drag me down.
I would never leave their side. Never.
My hands were tangled in Maze’s hair, forcing his lips to mine as our legs intertwined. We were atop the sheets in my room, rumpling them as we wrestled and exchanged heated passion with our mouths. He nipped at my bottom lip, sending shivers down my spine; he was always one to bite. Never hard enough to hurt, but just enough to make me squirm.
Making me squirm seemed to be one of his specialties.
His hands roamed over me, stopping in places I was sure no one had touched before. It didn’t matter, because I wanted him, needed more of him. All of him. Every part he was willing to give me, I would take and drink in greedily, and once I had it, I’d never return it. Maze, Dylan, and Landon—they were mine, and I would never give them up, not for anything. I couldn’t even remember my life before.
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