Hearts Eclipsed: A Beautiful Nightmare Companion Novel

by L. C. Son

  Glittering colors of electric blue and shimmering gold hover around us as we slowly drift above the marble tiles as I invade her mouth deeper and deeper. Holding her face close, I pull away just enough to make sure I’m not dreaming, and I can’t help admiring the beautifulness that is Damina Nicaud. Her eyes dance with a fiery hue while her lips gape open with desire, longing for me to delight once more in the pleasure of her mouth.

  Every inch of Damina clings to me, screaming to be touched while equally touching me in all the places I long for. The shape of her slender yet curvy silhouette fits my muscular frame like she was made just for me. And I believe she was.

  Tugging her legs around my waist, the warmth of her preciousness at my abdomen is almost my reckoning and I feel the beast within begging for his release.

  Still, I refuse to allow my shortcomings to bring her any undue harm.

  I’ve never been impulsive. But being with Damina makes me do things I never thought I’d do. And right now is the best of them all.

  Slowly, I pull away from her once again, gazing at her lovely smile as I release us back to the floor. Damina presses her body back against the wall, allowing the coolness of the tile to relieve the warmth exuding from her body. Although I’m certainly not embarrassed, we both chuckle when she slides down my body past my protruding manhood, making her way to the floor.

  From the looks of it, she’s rather pleased with herself; she knows she’s getting to me. I admit, knowing it pleases her to see me this way, churns my desire for her more than I thought capable. But for her sake, I can’t let even our desire for one another cause us harm.

  Pulling my shirt from behind my belt to cover myself, I squeeze her shoulder and try to divert her eyes. “Wow! That wasn’t quite what I expected you to say, Ms. Nicaud, but I hope I obliged your request. I only want you to have sweet dreams of me, Damina. Now, if you’re done seducing me, can we please get back to our business for the day?”

  Damina chuckles, covering her mouth and tucking her hair behind her ear in the cutest way possible. As her eyes wander around the Hall, her expression changes, and I instantly know the conversation is going back to a place I’d rather not share—at least not right now.

  My wealth.

  “Dalcour,” Damina begins as she tugs at her shirt when she notices more guests have entered the Hall.

  Trailing my fingers down her arm, I try my best to bring her back to me. “Yes, Damina,” I answer.

  “There’s still the issue of all this!” Damina says pointing around at the array of art surrounding us.

  As much as I do not want to discuss this topic, I do my best to appease her intrigue. Despite it being the 21st century, she seems more surprised that a man of color has amassed such treasure than of the treasures themselves. It’s somewhat disappointing to know such stereotypes remain—even among our own. I work hard to move past it, making a mental note to revisit the topic at another time.

  “So yes, Damina—I’m rich. But I’m more than that—” I say after giving her a quick run-down of my global holdings.

  Her mouth gapes open once more, but this time not in a manner of passion, though I’d be happy to oblige, but one of pure awe. “Whoa! See Dalcour, that’s what I mean. What could I possibly bring to your life that you don’t already have?”

  “You.” There is no pretense in my speech and my tone is clear. I want and need her to understand the gravity of my feelings for her. This isn’t puppy love, and I didn’t just steal a kiss under the high school bleachers. No. I know she doesn’t quite understand, but she is mine and I have every intention of making sure she and the rest of the world understand this truth.

  For the first time, the veiling of her mind is lifted. A fluttering of emotion and random thoughts invade my space, screaming at me all at once. I work hard to decipher each erratic stream that blares through her mind, but it’s too much to take in. She’s an Altrinion. I’ll have to be more specific to get in her mind, but I do grasp just enough intel to make my intent clear.

  “Damina, you know Newton was on to something, but I don’t think the laws of universal gravitation were only referring to particles proportional to their own masses—I think he was referring to us,” I respond, pushing through her thoughts. She ogles me for a moment, slightly stunned I picked up on her internal Newton reference, but I smile quick, trying to evade her budding curiosity. Pulling her back into my embrace, I hope my lure is enough to keep her mind off my wealth, if only for a little. “There’s no escaping me now, Damina Nicaud—it’s Newton’s Law after all.”

  “Right, Newtons Law,” she laughs, allowing herself to give way to my hold.

  After a little coaxing, we finally near our exit to the patio when Damina tugs on me and I see the same incessant glare in her eyes. It’s obvious she’s not going to let this go. I sense my patience waning, but I’m surprised that it’s not like my typical brooding that both Jerrica and Braelyn have to endure. Interesting.

  “Dalcour, you sell these things?” Damina asks, her curiosity peaking.

  “Yes, some of them are for sale but not all. Like I said, they’re just things, Damina.”

  “And you own all of them?” Her eyes are locked on me and she’s pulling me in.

  Crap! Does she know what she’s doing? The way her pitch dropped an octave coupled with her narrowed gaze are classic distinctives of Altrinion compulsion. As much as I’d hate to answer her and bring my vile brother into the conversation, even I can’t refuse her.

  “Well, not exactly,” I begin, trying hard to resist but her pull is strong. Woman, what are you doing to me? Damina’s gaze digs deeper into mine and she owns my truth. There’s no resisting. “At least eighty percent of the things you see here are mine and the rest belong to my—um, my brother,” I add reluctantly.

  “Your brother?” She quietly mutters, obviously surprised. Good. Although I despise mentioning his name, it seems just the mere thought of him douses her compelling reach within me.

  “Yes, my brother, Decaux—but listen, I really don’t want to talk about him right now, okay?” I reply with just enough strength left to fully escape her inducing inquiry. She pauses once more before asking whether I’m the owner of the Hall of Isis to which I affirm her inquisitiveness and gesture for her to step out onto the patio.

  Seeing the sheer awe laced across her beautiful face when she finally sees the surprise I’ve arranged for her almost makes her incessant inquiry worth it. She drops her mouth open again, and it’s still indeed the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Every time she does it, I think I might lose my wits. It’s such an invitation! I doubt I’ll have enough strength to muster restraint much longer.

  “Thank you, Dalcour, but you didn’t have to do all of this,” Damina says softly, her posture bashful.

  “Actually, I did. But I do need you to do something for me,” I begin taking her hand in mine, hopeful to ease the nervousness I sense budding within her.

  “What?” She questions as her gaze deepens into mine and her voice pitchy, once more compelling my truth. But this time I don’t mind.

  “Let me love you. Please.” The world around us goes quiet as our eyes lock onto one another and I know one thing, I’ll do whatever I must to show her the enormity of my affection for her. And I’ll do so until the only name captured by her love is mine.

  Chapter 18

  Jackson

  Emptiness floods my soul as I witness my beloved snatched from my presence. Only a faint hint of her sweet and peaceful fragrance of vanilla and eucalyptus remains in the meadow. While a loud, yelping chorus of howling wolves echo in the distance, it’s the jolting pain of my aching heart ringing loudest in my ears.

  How could I let my guard down? It’s my duty to protect her.

  How could I let her slip away?

  Just like that, she’s gone.

  But I cannot allow this to be our end.
I refuse.

  Fury rises inside of me and a low churning growl rumbles in my chest and sweltering heat blazes through the coat of my fur as my roar extends far beyond the meadow. The gray wolves behind me echo my howl causing the Great Oak to sway as golden leaves swirl through the air. A bright iridescent fog fills the area and sparkling lights pop and fizzle all around us as the wind resumes its force pushing us away from the cliff’s edge.

  Instinct drives a forceful growl through me as rage consumes my being, causing a gaping tear in the illuminating fabric of the misty fog. A dark gray wolf, sizeable and larger than the rest, flanks my side and roars in unison and the thickness of the mist weakens. One by one, an echoing howling chorus of wolves bay along with us at my rear and the popping firecracker-like lights resound like an explosion and the forming haze evaporates.

  I rush to the edge of the cliff, hopeful to see her, but four mountainous waterfalls are in my view. Piercing my gaze tight, I try to peer behind each of the flowing fountains, but the thick streams block my attempts. I know she’s probably in one of the caves behind the falls, but I have no idea how to get to her from here.

  The large dark gray wolf bays in my direction and the wind shifts once more, allowing the remaining golden leaves to fly overhead. Each leaf crackles and fizzles as it connects with the spray from the waterfalls; allowing a slither of sight through the caves. The wolf howls at me once more, lowering his body and pawing at the earth beneath me. More leaves hover around us and I issue a loud growling howl, sending the leaves crashing like fireballs into the falling streams.

  Peering again, I see a bright blue ember shimmer through the third cave and I now know where my beloved has gone. Turning behind, I see my company of wolves has doubled and I growl a low rumbling roar, and they all howl in unison as the leaves hurl like comets toward the cave.

  My tail straightens high and stiff and I howl again, feeling my muscles contort beneath my fur and I know the alpha in me is pining for his eventual release.

  The loud buzzing of my phone in my shirt pocket jolts me awake in a panic.

  Crap! It’s not her.

  “What is it?” I snap, annoyed the caller isn’t Damina. Neither my nightmare nor our estranged state assuages my growing concern for her.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Nash. It’s me, Nicolaus,” he responds quickly. To this day I’ll never understand why he announces himself. It’s like he forgets the 21st century came equipped with caller ID.

  “Yes, Nicolas I know. How can I help you?” I ask softly, trying to temper my mood. He’s just a young guy doing his job, I need to back off.

  “Yes, sir, well I have some news on the information you requested.”

  “What information? I’m sorry, everything has been a blur as of late,” I add rubbing my eyes, gazing around Damina’s condo. I look up at the wall clock and see it’s well past seven in the evening. I got here late this afternoon. Gregory, Shawn and I spent most of the day trying to get a confession out of Tye and a few of Keiron’s goons we were able to bring back to one of our holding dens.

  I’ve barked so many orders to almost every Den Alpha and council member over the last few days that I’m starting to lose count. Even Brandon has sobered himself enough to keep watch on Damina and Allyson’s place while I’m away. Isaac and Jesse have ensured Damina’s family is safe, keeping a close detail on both Delia and Dacari at all times. I’ve also given instructions to Merle to use Kyra’s former brute trackers to search for Allyson and her Dunes Paw boyfriend.

  With everything going on I can hardly recall what I’ve asked from Nicolaus.

  “That would be regarding JJ Properties, sir.”

  “Ah, I see,” I mutter, thumbing through my phone. I had hoped to hear from Damina by now. “Anything interesting?” I ask while noting an urgent text from Gregory to call him.

  “Actually there is,” he answers quickly before I have a chance to brush him off.

  “Can it wait? Or better yet, send me an email.”

  “Well, I can send you the particulars, but I think you’d be interested in what I have to say now,” he begins.

  I really wish he would get on with it.

  Just as I rise from the couch, to wake myself enough to pay attention and stop the replay of the dream in my mind, Gregory and Shawn burst through the door. I cringe when I see the bent wooden frame near the deadbolt. We’re going to need to fix that.

  “Jack-O!” Gregory shouts, rushing in and sliding along the wooden floors into the living room. I raise my hand, cautioning for him to give me a few minutes. He and Shawn stare back at one another, almost exasperated and I can’t help wondering what’s giving them worry.

  “The company, JJ Properties is owned in part by a Jerrica Jeffers and a name, please excuse me if I mispronounce it, a Dalcour Marchand. But the strangest part is the records for these holdings date back more than one-hundred and thirty years.’

  Despite his rambling, there’s one name that stands out, filling me with dread. Dalcour Marchand.

  “It can’t be—” My words are almost breathless. I look up, my eyes laden in alarm, unsure how to respond. Gregory and Shawn’s reactions mirror my own and they are just as pensive, curious of the new alarm wreaking havoc within me.

  “Of course I thought it was odd too, but when I checked and rechecked the records, I got the same results,” he adds.

  “Are you certain?” I hurriedly question.

  “Yes, sir. I can email you a brief now if you’d like,” Nicolaus adds.

  Gregory bites his lip as the distress in his posture builds and a growing, urgent fear gnaws within me.

  “Send it now,” I finish with a dry tone as I hang up the phone before Nicolaus affirms my request. Both Shawn and Gregory call my name, pulling for my attention, but I have none to give.

  Not once had I ever considered I’d run into a Marchand in my lifetime. Throughout the centuries my family has done well to keep far from the less admirable of the Altrinion Order—such as Dalcour Marchand. The atrocities he and his brother Decaux have committed through the ages are countless and we’ve made it our business to steer clear of their path. Sure, rumors of their heinous deeds reach our ears often, but never would I think it would come this close.

  Had I known Harold Emmerson had any dealings with the likes of the Marchand brothers, I would have kept him away from Damina. While I can’t fathom what type of connection Emmerson and Marchand share, the mere fact he wanted to put Damina in an inch of Marchand is more than infuriating!

  “Jackson!” Shawn yells while tugging my arm, breaking me from my rageful trance.

  “What is it?” I snap back, breaking free of his tight grip. All I can think of is Damina. The only solace I find is knowing she tossed this invitation into the trash. Now, I’ll do her one better and burn this wretched information before she returns. There’s no way I’ll allow her to involve herself with the likes of Marchand! Thankfully, since her parent’s death, I know New Orleans is the last place Damina wants to be.

  “Look, you know how you’ve asked us to keep a beat on any unusual supernatural hotspots or activity since Damina left?” Gregory begins.

  “Yes,” I answer gruffly, shrugging my shoulders, unsure of where this is going.

  “Well, a few nights ago we heard rumors of a rash of murders. Since it neared the full moon and there’d been a rise in Skull activity, we didn’t think much of it. That is until we got word of transcendent occurrences happening in the same area. Then we got the call tonight about another transcendency in almost the exact spot. There are even rumors of an uptick in Altrinion sightings.”

  “Where?” The beating of my heart slows its pace as the same foreboding dread fills my soul once more and I almost hate to hear the response. Please let my premonition be wrong.

  “New Orleans.” And with Gregory’s words, my heart stops.

  Dalcour
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  Loving her is all I wanted. All I needed.

  From the moment I saw her in Bessie’s, I knew nothing more than my heart longed to make her part of my world. I wanted her by my side, in my bed, and in my heart always and forever. Even as I professed my love to her during our lunch at the Hall and the many times I proclaimed my affection toward her as she traipsed through the halls of this old mansion today, I am in awe how quickly she has enraptured my heart and become my world.

  One would think I would stray far from the foolery that lead her to New Orleans. Sadness and fury rang within me and my heart grieved with her as she recounted Jackson’s betrayal of their pending nuptials. For the first time, her cloaking was fully unveiled to me. Whatever power responsible for hiding her truth from me had now rescinded its reach as she exposed her vulnerability. In that moment, her thoughts intertwined with my own sending me into both peril and passion and I witnessed her pain as if it were my own.

  So why am I now watching her through fear-wrought eyes?

  Because I am just as treacherous as Jackson.

  At least in her mind.

  Watching streams of fury and regret pour past her cheeks strikes like daggers in both my heart and soul. The truth is, Claudia means nothing to me but that’s not what Damina sees. How could she not? Her recent experiences have taught her to expect this from men. And now, even from me.

  I only needed to settle the forming blood rage within me after witnessing Damina’s injuries, but I should not have listened to Braelyn’s suggestion of feeding on Claudia. Not only has it given Claudia the wrong impression but doing so hurt the one who alone holds the lock and key to my damned heart.

  “Damina, wait! I can explain!” I shout from the top of the stairs. Slowly, I pace down, keeping my gaze on her. With one hand on the doorknob and the other dangling at her side, wrapped in bandages from her injury in the garden, I know if my actions are too sudden, I’ll drive her away.