by Casey Lane
If they wanted to be bound forever, it required a bite. A claiming bite. There was no backing out. No turning back. It was insane, she knew that, but she also knew how right it was. How right he was for her.
Wren partially shifted above her, and then sharp teeth closed along the crease where her shoulder met her neck, but he didn’t bite down. Instead, his tongue soothed over the indentations before he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “Are you sure, Isa? If we do this, it’s you and me for life. Are you ready for that? I need to know you’re ready for that.”
She kissed him hard. “I’m ready,” she promised.
“Isa-”
Suddenly, a thought hit her, grabbing her by the throat. “Are you not sure? Are you changing your mind?” she asked, the thought making her sick.
Wren looked startled. “No! Never. I just don’t want you to regret this.”
“I know what I’m doing,” she said, pressing another kiss to his lips before partially shifting, eyes bleeding gold, teeth sharpening. “Bite me, Wren Davies. That’s an order from your alpha.”
Isa cried out as Wren’s teeth pierced the skin of her shoulder, a jolt of electricity shuddering through them both. She jerked his head back, her teeth scraping over his shoulder before dipping lower, sinking her teeth into the flesh just over his heart. He snarled, but she barely heard it. Her wolf was practically howling in triumph, the taste of his blood exploding on her tongue and the feel of her teeth piercing his skin had her drunk with magic.
Then he was dragging her mouth back to his, licking his blood from her lips as he drove himself within her, his hands gripping her thighs, changing his angle until she was crying out with every thrust of his hips. She was so close. When her eyes slipped shut, he fisted his hands into her hair. “Hey, don’t do that. Look at me. I want you to see me. I want you to see what you do to me.”
She didn’t know how to tell him it was too much. She was feeling too much. Being in love with him, being mated to him, having their bodies connected at the most basic level was crushing her. She’d never known a feeling this intense and it was scaring the hell out of her. She’d never understood how two people could feel so linked, could love so hard…but she got it now. She dragged her lips over the bite she’d inflicted, the wound already closed and scarred over, a perfect impression of her teeth.
Wren was growling words into her ear and she had to force herself to concentrate on them and not the feeling building inside her. “Mine. Just mine,” he was saying repeatedly.
She was his. He was hers too. He was hers forever, and anybody who saw the mark would know he belonged only to her. Her orgasm hit her out of nowhere and the words were tumbling from her lips before she could stop them. “I love you.”
Wren’s hips stuttered, grinding against her as he found his own release. After a few minutes, he laid his head on her chest. “I know,” Wren breathed. “I know.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rhys
It took Rhys close to twenty minutes to circle back from the house to Old Mill Road. Kai was waiting for him when he arrived as he’d asked, but he wasn’t alone. He’d brought Tristin and Quinn. He should have known not to trust him. “Why’d you bring them?” he asked, not caring that they could hear him.
“How was I going to sneak off without them noticing? Quinn and I share a room.”
Rhys huffed out a sigh. “But why’d you bring her?”
Tristin crossed her arms, and Rhys’s stomach sank. “They brought me because I’m the only one whose window leads to the roof, genius. They had to tell me why they were sneaking out. I told them I’d tell Gen if they didn’t bring me. Besides, I don’t know why you’re being such a jerk to me; I’m the only one who actually likes you.”
Rhys flushed. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just get going. Stay alert. There’s something out here.”
Quinn stopped dead, forcing the others to do the same. “What do you mean, something? What kind of something?”
Rhys shook his head, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. “I honestly don’t know. I didn’t see it, but I felt it. Just trust me, you’ll feel it too. Just stay close and don’t do anything stupid.”
Quinn reluctantly started moving, but still looked leery. “Stupid like what?” he asked. There was a loud crack, startling the four of them as the sound reverberating off the trees. Quinn looked down at the tree branch beneath his booted foot.
“Stupid like that,” Rhys muttered. “Just stay behind me and be quiet. And watch where you’re going.”
They hiked deeper into the woods, single file, Kai directly behind Rhys, followed by Quinn. Tristin stayed at the back, scanning as she walked, clearly taking Rhys at his word to be on alert. The sounds of the forest seemed amped up in the silence. Insects buzzed around them. Frogs called out to each other from the trees. Somewhere above, an owl was hooting. These were all sounds Rhys normally loved, but at that moment, he found them irritating, wearing down his already tenuous grasp on calm.
It didn’t take long for them to find what they were looking for. When they entered the clearing, Kai inhaled sharply, and Rhys knew he’d been right. Kai had seen something like this before. The white stones were still there, but there was more blood, painting them a reddish-brown color. Rhys could smell it, could taste it in the air like rust on his tongue. Everything about this space felt wrong, the energy rolling along his skin like icy water.
Tristin and Quinn moved about, clearly uneasy in the space. The four crept closer, their fear thick in the sweltering night air. They looked down into the circle of once-white stones, Rhys’s stomach churning at what they might find. Inside the stones, there were more dolls made of twisted branches. They’d been burned and stacked on top of each other like forgotten corpses.
“Witches?” Kai asked, sweat beading on his forehead.
Ezri’s story mentioned dolls made of sticks and twine. Dolls the monster had left for the children it fed on.
“I don’t think so,” Rhys said, swallowing hard, trying not to gag on the scents assaulting him.
Tristin peered further into the circle. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely a harsh whisper. “It looks kind of like a..."
“Like a what?” Kai prompted, exasperated.
She looked to Quinn, but Quinn’s glasses were fogging in the heat. He took them off to clean them before pushing them back up the bridge of his nose not noticing Tristin’s look.
“It looks like a witch trap,” Tristin finished, cheeks flushing.
Rhys’s lip curled, dread heavy in his stomach. “Like a circle made by witches to trap something or a circle made by something to trap witches?” he asked, feeling stupider just for having uttered the question.
Tristin once again looked at Quinn, who looked away, scuffing his shoe against the ground, pushing his hands deeper into the pocket of his jeans.
“What am I missing here?” Rhys asked, moving closer to Quinn. “Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?”
Tristin sighed. “Just tell them, Quinn.”
Quinn stared hard at Tristin before closing his eyes. “Witch trap: A stone circle created and spelled to provide a barrier between the practitioner and the demonic entity with which they are attempting to communicate. Once erected, a witch will place its offering within the circle and call forth the entity. Once the witch has made contact, they may safely request a favor in exchange for their offering, most often a blood sacrifice. A witch must remember to send the demon back before breaking the protective circle, or they risk the demon attaching itself to them forever.”
Rhys and Kai stared in confusion as Quinn appeared to be reading from a book visible only to him. Kai stared at his friend like he’d never seen him before. “How did you know all that?”
“Quinn remembers everything he reads. He has a photogenic memory,” Tristin said like it was a fact everybody should know.
“Photographic,” Quinn corrected, once again looking at his shoes.
“That’s what I said, dummy,” Tristin told Quinn, with an eye roll.
Rhys could smell the hurt rolling off Kai as he looked at Quinn. “Dude, you have a photographic memory, and you told her and not me?”
Quinn flushed. “It doesn’t even matter. Now that my dad knows I’m just human, he won’t let me read any of his books anymore. It’s not like I can just go to the library and grab a book on magic. What good is having a photographic memory if all the books you want to read are locked away?”
Kai scoffed. “Uh, cheating in class. Cheating at board games. Dude, we could kill at Trivial Pursuit. Wait! Is that why you get such good grades? That’s not fair.”
Quinn frowned. “You just said you wanted me to help you cheat. And I’m not doing that. I can’t help that I remember everything I read. How is that my fault? My brain was just wired this way.”
“Shut up!” Rhys whispered. “Can you two have your little couple’s fight later.”
“We’re not a couple,” Quinn mumbled, but Rhys didn't bother answering. This place was making him edgy.
“What’s the deal with the…burned dolls?”
Quinn shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, shuffling from one foot to the other. “I don't know. Maybe the dolls are soaked in the blood of the offering? I've never seen anything like them. Have you?”
He hadn’t seen anything like them…but he’d heard of them. The zompire in Neoma’s story left dolls just like that as a gift to the children she’d fed from. These dolls did not seem like a gift. If anything, it seemed like a curse. Maybe if he could just focus on the problem, he could ignore the panic climbing his throat. “So, the blood on those stones…the blood on the dolls…that’s the blood of somebody they fed to the demonic entity they were trying to summon?”
Quinn shrugged. “They don’t have to kill people to use their blood. Sometimes, it’s the witch's own blood; sometimes it’s the blood of something more powerful. Virgin’s blood, fae blood-”
“Like elemental blood?” Rhys interjected.
Tristin gasped. “Like Neoma’s blood?”
“Why would you say that?” Kai asked, looking from Rhys to Tristin. “Did you have the dream too? The dream about the woman in the bone mask?”
Tristin hesitated, before nodding. Quinn looked at them in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Somebody’s hurting Neoma. A creepy woman in a mask who I think bites her and is probably using her blood for really terrible things,” Tristin blurted.
Quinn’s fair skin went chalky white, making him look like a ghost in the dark recesses of the forest. “What woman? A witch?”
“We don’t know,” Kai said.
“Ezri called it a zompire,” Rhys confessed.
“Who’s Ezri?” Quinn groaned. “Have you guys been having secret Scooby meetings without me?”
Rhys frowned, not quite understanding the reference but Kai had his hands on his hips. “Kind of like how you have a photographic memory and didn’t tell me?”
Rhys didn’t have time for his. “Aaron called it something else…he called a draugen.”
“Since when do you talk to that dweeb?” Tristin asked, looking at him like he was stupid. “Did you just say a dragon?”
“No, a draugen,” Quinn corrected.
Kai looked back and forth between Quinn and Rhys. “You’re not going to make me ask what a draugen is, are you?”
“I’m not sure what it is,” Rhys confessed.
“It’s a Norse…well, zompire is a good description. It’s dead, and it lives off people…flesh and blood,” Quinn said.
“Gross,” Tristin supplied, unhelpfully.
Rhys felt his temples throb. This conversation was giving him a headache. “Hey, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Can we focus on the blood? Would elemental blood be a worthy sacrifice to a demon?”
Quinn shrugged, thinking about it. “Maybe in large enough quantities? It’s like a drug, the purer the drug, the more power it punches."
"Dude, how do you know so much about drugs? Who even are you right now?" Kai asked.
Quinn rolled his eyes. "Elemental blood is watered down fae magic, the larger the quantity, the bigger the magical kick.”
Rhys stared at Quinn, echoing Kai’s sentiment. How did they not realize how much Quinn knew? “Okay, how do we find out if all that blood is Neoma’s?”
"Do you think this thing is still feeding on Neoma? Even now?" Tristin asked, horrified at the thought. “Do you think that’s what made this witch trap? A zompire? Draugen? Whatever this thing is?”
"That's what we're trying to find out," Rhys reminded her.
Tristin reached into her back pocket and pulled out a wicked looking blade. Rhys cocked a brow at her as she snapped it open and moved towards the rocks, dropping down to her knees beside them. They all watched, mouths open as Tristin scrapped at the blood. “Tristin, what are you-”
Before Kai could finish, Tristin touched the blade to her tongue. Rhys’s stomach heaved, but he breathed through it. Quinn wasn’t so lucky. He turned, puking up his dinner into the bed of decaying leaves at his feet. When he finished, he wiped his hand across the back of his mouth with a shudder. “That is so unsanitary,” he said, sounding horrified. Rhys agreed, but he wasn’t going to be sick like some little kid.
Kai covered his mouth, staring at his sister like she was insane. “Tristin, why did you do that?”
Tristin pulled a face. “What? If fae blood is like a drug to supernatural creatures, then I’m bound to feel something. It’s not like I can catch anything.”
Rhys exchanged glances with Kai and Quinn, none of them wanting to point out the obvious.
It was Kai who finally said, “Tris, you’re not a reaper. I mean, you carry the gene but-”
Tristin stood, rounding on him, gesturing in his direction with the knife. “I am, too. I’m a banshee. I screamed. Allister said so. My magic is just sleeping.”
When she finished, her chest was heaving, fury radiating off her in waves. Rhys moved closer, his wolf wanting to soothe her, but she cut her eyes at him, and he stopped where he was.
Kai didn’t seem to care that this conversation was infuriating his sister. “If you were going to scream, don’t you think you would have by now?” he insisted.
“Um, if you were going to get your first collection, don’t you think you would have by now?” Tristin countered, tone mocking. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. None of you know what you’re talking-”
Rhys slapped his hand over Tristin’s mouth, looking quickly at Kai and Quinn and shaking his head, hoping they understood they needed to shut up. Tristin struggled against him, still trying to talk past his hand. He tightened his grip, stomach sinking at the sound of tree limbs bending and snapping. The sound of something moving towards them, something big, something with weight. “Shh,” he whispered against Tristin’s ear. “Something’s coming.”
He jerked his head back towards Old Mill Road, releasing Tristin and putting a finger against his lips. They crept towards the trees as quietly as possible, none of them so much as breathing. Once they’d hidden within the trees, they waited, crouched down, making themselves small. If Rhys could hear it moving through the trees, it could hear them if they tried to run. Witches wouldn’t be able to sense their presence, but something else might. This draugen might. Rhys’s gums ached, but he fought his shift. It was too dangerous. They didn’t know who they were dealing with yet.
Rhys’s heartbeat fell off beat as Kai’s fingers wrapped around his upper arm. They were all scared. He was scared too. There was a movement on the other side of the clearing, and then a deer broke through the trees. Rhys relaxed for only a moment. It wasn’t a deer but a stag, bigger than anything Rhys had ever seen, even on television. Especially anything that looked like this creature. This mutant deer. It was tall, almost the size of an elk, but it’s fur was jet black, and its eyes glinted red in the moonlight. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Rhys
didn’t think so. Its antlers were too long and jagged, sharp as daggers. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t just a deer. There were no deer in Belle Haven.
Something was wrong. Just like before, everything around them seemed to stop. The forest eerily silent, as if even the mosquitoes didn’t dare to come near the creature. The air was stagnant in the space. He inhaled deeply, trying to catch the scent of any animal, much less the deer before him. But there was nothing. Whatever the thing was before them, it didn’t smell like prey. Its heart throbbed steadily in its chest. It smelled like rot like it was Frankenstein’s monster created from the bodies of a thousand dead animals. It was the same scent he’d smelled the day he’d skipped school, only this time it much stronger.
He heard Tristin swallow, the others gathering close to him. Rhys gestured for them to stand, putting his finger to his lips once more to remind them to be quiet. But, the moment they were on their feet, the stag, jerked its head in their direction, red eyes glowing.
“Run,” Rhys whispered fiercely. “Run!”
They didn’t question him, just bolted, Rhys close behind. Quinn tripped on a tree branch, but Rhys snagged his arm dragging him back to his feet, keeping him close. He was the smallest and clumsiest, and he was also painfully human. They didn’t stop, arms and legs pumping, fear pushing them to run faster, harder. When they broke through the trees to the property, Rhys was shaking and out of breath, more from fear than exertion. Still, he forced them to keep going, ushering them up the trellis under Tristin’s window. “Hurry. Go, go. Hurry up,” he prompted, pushing Kai up the trellis. Rhys started climbing as soon as Kai’s feet hit the roof, clearing the trellis in seconds. He shoved Kai towards the window, upending him until they both landed in a heap on the floor.
