The All Consuming: A Shifter MC Novel (Pureblood Predator MC Book 4)

by Ellis Daniels, May

  “How?” I whisper.

  “I also want to see my son again. Lachlan is no longer a child. He’s a young man.” Vuk releases a long sigh. “Love is weakness, Aaron. The more we love the weaker we are. And as alpha predators, there is no room in our lives for weakness.”

  “How do I get the fuck out of this cage, you sick bastard?”

  “Yes. How indeed? How does Aaron of the Mountain River, the legendary One We Answer To, escape the Cliff of Cages?” Vuk’s tone drips sarcasm as he names my titles.

  “Tell me,” I say, refusing to let him hear the desperation in my voice.

  “You do what an alpha predator does. You offer the Dog God a blood challenge. And you win.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  LILY

  “I DEMAND TO see him,” I say to my betrothed.

  The Dog God shakes his head. His deep-set black eyes gleam dangerously. “The wolf is caged. Forget Aaron Arud, Lily. He’s a prisoner of the Bloodless Land.”

  We’re standing in the center of a hall sculpted from gleaming black marble. Vast columns rise upward, disappearing into darkness. Torches flicker above but give little light in the oppressive half-darkness. The hall is empty. Our words echo in cold space.

  The Dog God, Opiyelguabiran, is dressed entirely in black. A black velvet robe trails behind him, attached at his neck with a gleaming stone clasp. His pale hands seem to hover as he walks toward me. I study his thin, bloodless fingers and curling black claws. Opiyel catches my shudder, then smiles and says, “Do I disappoint?”

  I take a few steps away. My bare feet press cold against the marble floor. I’m wearing only a thin knee-length cream-colored dress. I think about trying to flee. Perhaps there’s a way out of the Dog God’s palace—

  But I know different. I’ve tried to escape countless times.

  The exit doors always lead me here.

  To the center of the palace.

  “You’re not disappointing,” I say. “It’s just…I need to see my son. I miss him.”

  Opiyel’s lips curl around his incisors. “You have many requests.” He reaches his hand toward mine. “Walk with me, my beloved betrothed.”

  I stare at his hand. The horrible, razor sharp black claws. The pale, lifeless skin. I’ve touched him before. I know how cold he feels. I hug my arms around my chest and take an involuntary step backward.

  Opiyel’s eyes narrow.

  “You promised,” he says, his voice descending to a harsh whisper. “You made a vow.”

  I want him to be wrong. More than anything. But I’m beginning to remember. My wildborn mind is returning. Flashes or isolated images here and there. And as it does I’m losing my memory of that other land. The Warm Land. I remember a friend with a bright smile. She was a skilled markswoman. But I can’t remember her name—

  “I gave your animal freedom,” Opiyel reminds me. “It was me who released her from the Cliff of Cages after the dog Aaron Arud marked you. You remain in my debt.”

  I interrupt my betrothed by taking three quick strides up a flight of marble steps, leaving Opiyel to follow behind. I pause beside a floor-to-ceiling window framed in billowing grey fabric. An endless desert to the left. The sky never brightens or darkens, always an odd shadow-shade. To the right, about a mile off, a sheer cliff rises from the desert floor. Barred cells are sculpted into the cliff. Shadowy figures pace behind the bars.

  “So many,” I whisper. “So many caged animals.”

  “I can tell you precisely how many,” the Dog God says, inches from my ear.

  I whirl, fear making my stomach churn, and lash out to strike him.

  Opiyel snatches my wrist. His touch so cold it burns. His Doberman jaws open in a wide grin. “Do you want to know which cage holds your former bloodmate?”

  “Aaron’s still my bloodmate.”

  The Dog God growls. Very quiet. “You’ll learn to forget.”

  “Release me,” I breathe.

  Opiyel squeezes my wrist, hard enough I have to focus on not wincing. Then he drops my hand. I make sure not to rub the soreness left by his grip. I need him to believe I’m stronger than I am.

  Opiyel points to the top row of cages. “There. Your former bloodmate. He has the best view of the feedings. But I doubt he appreciates his new neighbor.”

  The feedings.

  A shiver traces down my spine. The feedings happen twice per day, although it’s impossible to say when a day begins or ends in this land. The Dog God forces me to stand at this window and watch the feeding rituals. The swarming tide of ravenous wild dogs gathering at the base of the Cliff of Cages.

  The Pureblood animal released from its cage.

  How the Pureblood, scenting death, fights the wild pack. I watch the doomed grow tired. Watch the first few bites sink home. Then I watch as the dog pack swarm over their kill, and only when the Pureblood is reduced to a few tufts of fur and gnawed bone does Opiyel permit me leave the window.

  The ritual haunts me constantly. The Pureblood’s desperation and bravery. They never fail to fight despite overwhelming odds.

  The ritual is also a warning.

  Opiyel is reminding me of how precarious Aaron’s life is.

  How I have to work to please my new lord.

  Now, looking up at the final row of cages, I can almost feel my bloodmate peering down. Are his eyes locked on mine? Does Aaron forgive me for banishing our son to this land? Or is he nurturing a hatred? Does he covet the thought of revenge against me? Of ripping my heart from my chest? Is his hatred of his son’s mother the only thing keeping him alive?

  I feel Opiyel studying me. Feasting on my misery.

  The sick, sadistic fuck.

  I try to summon my animal. The beautiful winged she-wolf. But she’s gone. Here, trapped in Opiyelguabiran’s palace, my creature is banished, and out there, in the Bloodless Land, she’s barely a shadow, a wraith, her power drained.

  Suddenly something Opiyel said hits me.

  His new neighbor.

  “What have you done?” I whisper.

  “Perhaps being caged side by side will help your brother and your bloodmate forge a new friendship.”

  “You bastard,” I say, recoiling from him. “You fucking—”

  Opiyel strikes me. A backhand across the cheek. My head jerks to the side. The sound rings through the deserted hall. My skin stings. I bring my fingers to my cheek and feel the heat.

  “No,” Opiyel says. “I think you’re right. The chances of those two becoming friends are slim indeed.”

  I think about my brother Vuk caged beside Aaron. About what secrets and lies my brother must be pouring into Aaron’s ears. I think about my bloodmate pacing wildly in his cage, his wolf’s yearning for freedom driving him mad, my brother’s cruel taunts in his ears. Would Aaron have rushed to save me from Vuk’s fire if I hadn’t told him his child was trapped in this dead land? Would he have done it only to save me, Lily Thompson, his bloodmate?

  I don’t know.

  Now, wandering this lifeless palace, I like to think he would have. Like to console myself with the dream of self-sacrifice for someone you love. Or maybe I’m just trying to hold onto the memory of being loved, to be warm and sweat-slick beside my bloodmate after we fucked, our skin still glowing with passion, our breath rapid. I need the memory of what Aaron Arud felt like, his hard, edged muscles, rippling mythic tattoos, sharp eyes and quick smile. How he felt inside me, pressing, promising. This memory is the only warmth permitted me in Opiyel’s palace, and even that is slowly fading.

  Soon my heart will be as cold as the Dog God’s.

  The spirit-eater.

  Consuming the loves and hates and dreams of others.

  I’ll become hollow. Empty inside. Memories of my bloodmate, of passion and hurt and love and loss, will slowly fall away. And I can’t help but wonder: what’s it like not feeling anything? Being dead to the world? Weren’t there times, when I was in the Warm Land, when I wanted to close myself off, shut down?

  “Ple
ase,” I whisper, deciding to turn my attention to my unborn child. “Please can I see my boy?”

  Opiyel sighs. “I believe I’ll feed your wolf to my pack. I had intended to keep him alive. Caged, of course. But alive. As a courtesy to you, Lily. But now…no. I see the wolf must be fed to the pack. He’ll die by the tooth, as befits a predator, if that’s any consolation.”

  I force myself to forget Aaron Arud.

  Not forever. But for now.

  My unborn son is here, trapped in this empty stone palace. I need to know he’s all right. Need to hold him. Maybe after that I’ll be able to help Aaron—

  ***

  My son was torn from me before he was ready to be born.

  Opiyel leads me out of the hall, down a corridor and into a small room. The walls are paneled mahogany stained black. A single window set high in the wall is the room’s only source of light. There’s a crib in the middle of the room. A strange blue light emanates from the crib.

  I pause on the threshold, nervous and afraid.

  Opiyel’s cool breath chills my neck.

  The Dog God hovers behind me, scenting my fear.

  “Your son awaits,” Opiyel says, his voice full of malevolent intent.

  I take a heavy step into the room.

  The blue light in the crib dims, then brightens as I approach. I hear a long breath, then a tiny wail that sets my heart racing and then I’m leaping across the room, desperate to hold my son—

  I lean over the wooden crib.

  It’s lined in black silk.

  There, swaddled in a black blanket, is a tiny child with arctic blue eyes.

  Aaron’s eyes.

  The thought hits like a blow. The mark Aaron left on my shoulder starts to sting, a reminder that our union has power even here.

  At first I’m too stunned to move. The child’s cries quiet and the silence of Opiyel’s stone palace settles around my throat like a garrote. My son peers up at me, almost expectantly. Like he’s waiting for something. But I don’t know what to do, and for an instant I’m possessed of the crazed idea that this isn’t my son, it can’t be, I didn’t deliver him in this land or the other. It must be a cruel trick of the Dog God’s. Then as I watch the child’s face begins to change. His brow deepens and his teeth grow long and sharp and his chin sharpens until suddenly I’m looking down at a small wolf pup with beautiful silver-black fur.

  “He looks like his father,” I say out loud, and then I reach down, slip my hands under my son and lift him to my chest.

  He’s light as air.

  The wolf pup sniffs in my direction. His features soften. His eyes close, and then he nuzzles against my skin, his downy soft fur tickling my chest, and a feeling of such immense love and loss strikes that for a second all I can do is squeeze my unborn child as tears slip down my cheeks—

  “Anything,” I whisper to Opiyel. “I’ll do anything.”

  “I know, my queen.”

  My wolf pup growls when he hears Opiyel’s voice.

  Opiyel laughs quietly. “He hasn’t taken to me.”

  Something in Opiyel’s voice makes me say, “Don’t harm him. Please. I beg you.”

  Opiyel doesn’t answer, and suddenly I know he intends to murder the child after he’s fathered one of his own. Aaron’s son is still alive only because the Dog God needs the child to make me bend to his will. A bolt of hatred flashes through me, so powerful it makes my muscles tense. The wolf pup growls agains, louder this time, and bears his sharp teeth. The effort exhausts him, and soon he’s asleep nuzzled against me.

  I’m staring down at my son, trying to burn the memory of how he feels into my heart. Time has no meaning in the Bloodless Land. I have no idea how long I’ve been trapped in the Dog God’s palace. I remember steering Aaron’s bike off the road, the feeling of freedom as I took to the air, the rocks approaching so fast—

  And that’s all.

  My old life doesn’t feel real anymore. Nothing feels real, and I know that’s the power of this land draining me of everything I once was. Soon the hunger will begin, fueled by this new emptiness, and I’ll be compelled to hunt at the Dog God’s side, entering the Warm Land to steal spirits, the life-force of those who died and are doomed to live imprisoned in this one.

  Then something horrible happens.

  Something that chills my heart.

  As I watch my son the blue light surrounding him flickers and fades, and for a moment I can see through him. He becomes a ghostly image.

  “He’s dying,” I say, my voice choked.

  “He’s not really living. Not yet. What you see is his life force. An illusion. He was never born in the Warm Land. And he cannot exist for long in this one without my blessing.”

  “You bastard,” I whisper.

  “Careful now, my queen.”

  Something stirs in me. She’s weak. Afraid. But my creature is there, gathering strength. The thought of freeing her and challenging the Dog God and tearing him apart makes me shiver with blood-lust.

  My son’s light brightens.

  He feels her power. She gives him hope. Strength.

  Behind me, so close I feel him brush against my shoulder, the Dog God snarls. “Keep her locked away, you fool. Keep that animal caged.”

  A thin smile spreads across my face.

  He’s afraid of her.

  “I am my own keeper,” I say, echoing the words Opiyel spoke when we first met.

  Opiyel seizes my arm and tugs me around to face him directly. My son’s eyes shoot open. He’s in his human form again, tiny and precious. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to lash out at Opiyel. But I know doing so will put my son in even greater danger—

  “Not here, my bride. Not in the Bloodless Land. Here I am your keeper.” Opiyel glances at my child. His lips curl in disgust. “You promised me your hand in return for your freedom from the cage. Then you traded your son for the lives of your friends in the Warm Land. You asked. I provided. Yet you still begrudge what is rightfully mine. I will have what is mine, Lily. And if it’s not granted willingly, I will take it from you. This is my land. Best remember that. For your wellbeing. And the wellbeing of those you hold dear.”

  ***

  I’m standing naked on a round, raised stone dais in the center of the sandy courtyard between the palace and the Cliff of Cages. My ankles are chained and secured to an iron spike. The Dog God’s palace rises behind me, a hundred tall towers ringed with a wall of stone. The windows in the palace are black, like empty eyes glaring down at me. I shudder, thinking of those cold rooms and empty halls and a life spent bound to the hideous creature who haunts them.

  In a cold room in that stone palace my unborn son’s life is fading. I look out at the endless expanse of desert. The overcast sky. The choking sand. Even if I could flee with my son, where would I go? What would sustain us?

  No. Fleeing is not enough.

  We’d still be trapped in Opiyel’s realm.

  The Dog God must die.

  Ahead of me the Cliff of Cages rises a thousand feet into the sky, casting a long shadow beneath its bulk. I’m close enough to hear the tortured howls and hisses and roars of the Pureblood animals caged inside.

  I scan the top row of cages. There must be a hundred of them. Somewhere up there my brother, The One Without Value, is whispering in my bloodmate’s ear. Has Vuk told Aaron what he did to me? How he possessed Connor Lerrick’s body, entered the warm world many years ago, hunted me down and took me for his unwilling mate?

  The thought makes my chest tighten.

  Aaron is a loyal wolf. But the truth will crush him.

  Which is precisely why the Dog God put the two together. So Vuk could harm my bloodmate with words just as surely as being caged harms his wolf.

  I walk until the chain becomes tight and the metal shackle bites into my skin so hard it cuts. I wait for the warm feeling of blood tricking down my ankle, and when it doesn’t arrive I glance down. I’ve cut myself, but the wound doesn’t bleed. Blood is life
, and there is no blood in this lifeless world.

  I bite my lip, stifling a scream.

  It’s my wedding day.

  My dying son behind me. My caged and tortured bloodmate ahead.

  Dogs begin emerging from shadows and crevices between the boulders stacked along the Cliff of Cages. Thin, scraggly, quick-eyed beasts with matted and torn fur dusted with sand and large ears and rows of sharp black teeth. The dogs slink toward me, their heads low, shoulders down. They pour from the shadows like liquid death, then I hear them barking behind me and turn to see more loping in from the sand dunes, so many they look like a living tide—

  I pull and strain against my shackles.

  All it gets me is another wound.

  The dogs snarl and spit and bite at one another in their haste to reach me. They scent my life force. My attachment to the warm land. It’s what they feed on.

  My legs weaken. I’m close to collapsing when the first few dogs arrive at the dais. They circle me, barking and yelping, their eyes glowing black and red. The braver ones lean their thick necks over the edge and bite at me, their teeth snapping closed on empty air, flinging spittle, forcing me into the center of the dais.

  Panic rises in my throat. I wrestle with the urge to fling myself to the dogs. Only thoughts of the people I care about stop me.

  Soon the dogs have me completely surrounded.

  Their barking rises into a deafening crescendo, then slowly fades. The dogs settle on their hindquarters. Silence descends over the courtyard.

  Then I hear a long, plaintive howl from high overhead.

  The hair on my arms stands on end.

  My skin warms.

  The despair that settled over me moments ago lifts, and my heart rises with the wolf’s howl. His howl is hope. Courage. Strength.

  Opiyel’s dogs shift restlessly. Eye one another. A few bite and worry at their own limbs. They sense something—

  The howl rises again. Louder this time.

  I feel my wildborn animal stir. She’s weak.