“No,” I groan, bringing the girls front and center in my mind. Whatever this is, it’s connected to them. Focusing on them is the only way to touch it.
The pendulum picks up speed again, even faster than before. I cry out as what feels like a hit of electricity shoots through me, slicing right across my heart.
Suddenly, the pendulum swings so hard it goes flying out of my hand.
The sound of glass cracking makes my eyes fly open.
Disoriented, I look around my room. My heart’s still pounding at full speed. Shaking, I place a hand to my chest, trying to catch my breath.
What the fuck was that?
I look to my left, in the direction the pendulum flew.
The mirrored-door of my closet is cracked in the middle. Causing that crack? The pendulum, its quartz end embedded right inside it.
“Fuck.” Still panting, I stand and head towards it. It only takes two tugs for me to realize it’s in there good and tight.
I’m going to need help getting it out of there.
“Ughhhh.” The world spins around me. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, uncaring if I smudge my eyeliner. Desperation and heartache eat at me.
Evesse and Ismini are my only two friends in the world.
A sad pitiful thought. I, a twenty-six-year-old woman, have nothing to my name except my restaurant and my two best friends, who happen to just be eighteen-year-olds.
Well, that and a string of worthless assholes begging me to give them another chance.
This has been my life the last four years. A solitude of my own making. Only Ismini and Evesse managed to pierce my self-imposed isolation.
Now they’re gone and only the gods and saints know where they are.
Sighing, I drop my hands and try to tug the pendulum out of the glass again. It doesn’t budge.
For some reason, that brings tears to my eyes.
Leaving it there, I walk away, my body heavy with dread. I’ll just rest a bit. Once my energy recharges, I’ll be back at it.
I won’t stop.
Not until I find out what happened to the girls.
Wiping at my eyes, I head to hunt down my cell. I find it inside my purse by the entrance. Taking it out, I check my notifications in the vain hope that they’ll be some news.
Nothing. Just a text from Michael, the annoying, creepy guy I went on a date with weeks ago.
Women complain about assholes but then find a man willing to give them everything and ignore him.
Oh please. A man willing to give me everything. Yeah. Okay. More like a creeper who was ready to propose to me on the first date. Hey, I’m all for intensity, but I’m pretty sure laying out the groundwork for how a marriage is going to work on the first date qualifies the guy as a Stage Sixteen clinger.
Annoyed, I send back a response. This is the last time I’m going to ask you. Please stop texting me. I don’t want to have to block you.
God, I pray he takes the hint. Seriously.
Phone in hand, I head into the kitchen to make myself a snack. Eating is the last thing on my mind, but I’m going to need the fuel to try searching for the girls again later. And that thing, person, whatever the hell it is. My gut tells me there’s no coincidence that every time I try looking for the girls, I come up against it instead.
Mama always told me there’s more out there. I’ve never encountered any spirits or demons personally, but I’ve felt the power of the other side since I was a child.
I witnessed my mother breaking the laws of nature one too many times with her spells to doubt.
There’s something else out there. Something more than this everyday human world. I don’t know what it is, have only a multitude of theories born out of years of research, but I know whatever it is exists.
And for some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that it has something to do with the girls.
I just need to connect with that thing enough to get a real glimpse of it.
Chapter 3
- Enzyria
IANTHEN
W hat the hell is wrong with you? Asking myself that question is pointless. No answer has been forthcoming, and I’ve been hounding myself since last night.
I’ll be the first to admit. I’m stretching my powers harder than I have in a while. Burning the candle at both ends, from a figurative standpoint. Now, here I am, in my room, preparing to do something I haven’t done in centuries.
I’m about to sleep.
My species—both god and Hyren—are energy powerhouses. Needing rest is rare.
Physically, I feel fine, aside from the constant hum in my gut. Like I’m hooked up to a battery. I’m buzzed. My brain’s all over the place.
Dematerializing my clothes, I sit on my bed. My hair falls in front of my eyes with the movement. Swiping it back, I stare down at my leg.
My rapidly bouncing leg.
That’s not even the worst part. My cock is an aching, needy thing. Irrational. Shit. Look at me. I’m angsty as hell. What it this?
It has to be that feeling of being followed. The lack of sex excuse is a moot point.
I had three needy females all over me last night. My body was well used and vice versa. Even while fucking them, you were distracted. Pitiful. It was that gods damned sensation. I know when I’m being watched. Stalked.
Hunted.
And I haven’t been able to lock on the brothers, or the source of that energy I sense.
Hence my attempt at sleeping. Every once in a while, even a god needs a reset. If this doesn’t help me, I’m in some deep shit with no explanation as to why.
Even now, the sensation is with me. Out of impulse, I look around my room. Of course, it’s empty.
What I sense isn’t tangible.
But it’s real. I’ve come to terms with it.
Growling low in my throat, I lie back and slip under the covers. Glaring down at my stiff shaft, I think back on the night before, on how good it felt.
How detached I was regardless.
I’m not normally an introspective bastard, but some weird shit is going on with me. If my little attempt at sleeping isn’t successful, then I’ll have no choice but to open up to someone. About the feeling of being hunted.
About this unexplained physical restlessness.
The very last thing I want to do. Those gossiping little punks can’t keep shit to themselves without oaths being in place.
- Earth, Astoria, Queens, NY (USA)
SOLERIA
The new pendulum I purchased swings in quick circles. I grunt from the strain of keeping my focus on that single point.
On that thing that I feel, that powerful, elusive thing—
An image enters my head, fleeting but clear.
White eyes.
Gasping, I lurch backwards. The chair tips with me and I slam onto the floor. “Umph!” Disoriented, I stare up at the ceiling. What the fuck was that? White eyes. That’s what it was. A pair of white eyes surrounded by a black rim. I saw them clear as day.
My heart skips a beat with fear.
Turning to my side, I lift myself up on one arm. Thank God for carpeted floors. That fall could’ve really messed up my back.
Squinting, I look around the room. As I try to sit up the rest of the way, one side of it lurches sideways.
Fuck. Vertigo.
Clutching my forehead, I drag myself up onto my knees.
Every damn locator spell comes with a cost. Just like my mother once warned me would happen. I had never even done one prior to a week ago.
No wonder I feel so weak.
Fisting the covers, I drag myself up on the bed. The world does another three-sixty on me. I fall onto my pillow, groaning.
The last thing I remember is squinting up at the ceiling again, wondering who the eyes I saw belong to.
And what the hell do they have to do with Ismini and Evesse?
White eyes.
In shock, I stand here, eyes locked with the giant man before me.
The man st
anding in front of my house.
The man with the chin-length hair and the unholy white eyes.
Oh God. It’s him. He’s what I’ve been trying to connect with. Raw, primal energy seems to come off him. Calling me. Enticing me. He’s shirtless, only a pair of black sleeping pants covering him from the waist down. From the waist up he’s nothing but a mass of perfectly carved muscle.
Unnatural.
Beautiful.
Very few men can achieve looking like that in real life.
The side of his hard jaw pulses. Those eyes narrow, taking me in from head-to-toe before bouncing back up to lock with my eyes. Then, just as quick, they drop down and lock with my lips.
A pulse of sheer energy seems to ignite in my core. “Who are you?” I need to know. More than anything. I’ve never seen a man like him. Have never even been this close. He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, even with those freakish eyes.
I can’t fight it. The sight of him makes my entire body ache with the need to feel his skin.
His eyebrow rises in one of the haughtiest expressions I’ve ever seen. “Human, I don’t answer the questions here. You do.” He looks around his surroundings, eyes squinting.
Whoa. What? “Excuse me?” I snap, aghast at his conceited attitude. Clearly, this is a man that knows how sexy he is, and it’s gone way past his head. I don’t know what pisses me off more. The fact that he knows how hot he is, or the fact that I can’t stop thinking about it, either. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” ¡Pendejo! Idiot.
“God of the Hunt, baby, so my existence trumps yours any day. Now shush.”
His husky, deep voice wrapping around the word baby . . . wait. Did he just call himself a god? My eyes trail over his body one more time. Jesus, he certainly looks like one. A perfectly made, cocky as hell god.
His stare meets mine again and his pupils dilate. When his eyes take their turn trailing over my body, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my needy whimper. God. I want him. Want him so bad.
Enough. You’re angry at him, Sol. Don’t give him a reason to get even more conceited. “I beg your fucking pardon,” I snap as he starts looking around again.
He doesn’t respond at first. Suddenly, his eyes land on me, almost as if he can’t help himself. This time, though, he isn’t just taking me in.
Oh God, no. Pupils huge, he seems lost to an image in his head, even as his eyes lazily move over my lips, down my throat, towards my tits . . .
I’m shaking.
Pulse pounding between my legs, I follow his happy trail with my eyes, all the way down to—
Jesus. Mary. And Joseph. This has got to be a dream. No way a man this sexy, this physically well-endowed, is real. He’s just so . . . fucking . . . hard.
And thick.
And long.
I cross my arms in a vain attempt to control my trembling. “You have two seconds to revise your moronic statement.”
His upper lip is thinner than his pouty bottom lip, but the curve of both is as perfect as the rest of him. When those lips curl up into an arrogant smirk, I swear I feel myself dripping wet down my thighs. “Or what?” he asks in a husky tone.
Something inside me snaps. I lose complete control of myself. Next thing I know, I’m storming towards him. To hurt him or mount him, I have no freaking clue. His eyes drop to my neck and widen, but I pay that no mind.
Stopping right before him, I shove my index finger against the silky, smooth skin of his chest. “You think your life matters more than mine?” That’s what his whole “I’m a god, baby” thing is about, right? Well . . . “Don’t make me show you just how wrong you are, baby.”
His eyes flash, glued to my face. His expression is something between panic and awe.
He doesn’t respond to me.
For some reason, that just infuriates me more. Or is it this wild need I have to feel every part of him inside me? “Apologize right the fuck now.” I poke his chest again for effect.
No response. Just more of that stunned look.
The moonlight caresses him. I don’t know why we’re outside, but Jesus, we should really stay out here forever. Like that I can see the moonlight loving on him the same way I’m dying to.
I’ve honestly never lusted after anyone this hard.
More fury awakens in my heart at the thought.
Suddenly, he shoots backwards away from me, almost as if he’s trying to escape.
I follow him, out of control and hating him for it. “Last chance, fuck face. Apologize or I will end you.”
He doesn’t respond, stumbling.
I open my mouth to warn him—
He bumps into the stairs leading up to my house and ends up falling into a seated position on them.
The perfect position to ride him in.
Lord! What the flying fruck is wrong with me? Why is he making me feel this way?
I stop in front of him, completely out of breath as I struggle with this demonic hunger. “Last chance asshole.”
Head tilted back to look at me, he bares his teeth. In the blink of an eye, his eyes change, his white irises growing larger. His pupils grow alongside them. “No, this is your last chance,” he growls at me like a beast.
I should be afraid.
I should be turning around and hightailing it out of here.
Instead, all I can focus on is how slick my pussy feels. “Or what?” I whisper, already imagining him deep inside me as he comes.
Another growl. Lord help me, he’s looking at me like he’s already imagining his mouth on my pussy. “Or I’m going to put you right on these steps and fuck you so hard neither one of us will survive it.”
I swear on everything holy, I almost come right here. A desperate moan is ripped from me at the visual. “You’d fuck me right on the steps to my house?” Oh, who cares where he does it? I’ll let him have it wherever he wants it.
After tilting his head to take a quick look behind him, he turns back to me. “You want it. More than anything you’ve ever wanted before. You want me to fuck you right here and force you to squirt all over my dick.”
“I—I do. Oh, God.” Mindless, I slip my hand inside my pajama pants. My fingers slide across my slippery cunt, and I can’t help the hungry cry that leaves me—
In a blur, he moves to grab me. Suddenly, we’ve switched places, and I’m the one laying back on the stairs.
Between my legs is over six-feet of primal, masculine power.
When he leans down, lips close to my ear, I almost start crying from the force of this need. “Outside of the dream, I know you can feel me. Just like I’m feeling you.”
I wrap my arms around him. That sexy jaw calls to me. Leaning up, I drag my tongue along it, moaning in my throat. “I do.” I feel him everywhere. “I feel you deep in my pussy already.”
His low, pleased chuckle is as delicious as the rest of him. He pauses with his mouth right above my neck. “Not yet baby, but you will.”
I writhe like a bitch in heat under him.
“What’s your name baby girl?”
“Soleria.” Please. Please. Please. Fuck me. “Yours?”
“Ianthen.”
The odd pronunciation of his name echoes in my mind. īanTHen. I’m so far gone for him, the sound of his name alone makes my eyes roll back in my head. “Ianthen,” I repeat in a breathless whisper.
“Sol, baby—”
“Only my friends call me that.”
“After tonight, we’re going to be so much more.” He nuzzles my neck. “I want you to play with yourself out there, in the real world.”
It doesn’t even occur to me what a weird statement that is. I shift under him again, restless. “And you? Will you be doing the same?”
“Oh yeah, babe. I’ll be jerking this cock so hard.” He licks my neck and tears my pants off in one swift move.
I barely have time to react, and suddenly he’s inside me, piercing me with that thick cock.
Arching beneath him, I scream his
name.
At the same time I realize: this feels too real to be a dream.
Ianthen growls, lapping at my neck, his cock twitching inside me.
I feel him so deep it’s like a stab through the heart.
My eyes widen.
Fear makes me gasp.
What is this? No. This is wrong. What—
He rotates his hips, rocking his cock along my clutching walls.
Again, the pleasure pierces me right in the chest.
I need to wake up.
I need to wake up!
No, no. I need more of that huge, perfect cock. More of that exotic, unearthly man.
Trapped between the dream and the real world, I’m forced to feel everything.
The slide of my fingers along my core, fucking me in time to Ianthen’s thrusts.
The phantom pleasure of him over me, his white eyes dilated and enlarged, a vision that’s almost monstrous. Those eyes stare down at me from beneath his furrowed brow.
His furrowed, midnight blue brows, the same color of his chin-length hair.
My blood covers his strong lips, his chin. When did I start bleeding?
Who the fuck cares? I just want him to drink more of me. And I want . . . “I want to drink your blood, too.”
His head snaps back, exposing his thick neck.
Oh, yeah, right there. That’s where I want to bite him.
Ianthen thrusts harder and faster into me, chasing that orgasm. The pleasure spears me deep in my womb, building, building . . .
“You’re mine, Sol. All mine. When we wake up, I’m coming for you. I’ll find you.”
“Yes, Ianthen, yes yes!”
A loud crashing sound jolts me awake.
Chapter 4
IANTHEN
I’ m trapped.
Trapped in a dream I can’t escape.
Trapped by burgundy hair and baby blue eyes.
Trapped by my need to feel those perfect lips wrapped around my dick.
“Who are you?”
Ah, fuck. Now I’m trapped by her voice, too.
“Human, I don’t answer the questions here. You do.”
All around us is a fogged replica of streets on Earth. As I focus on the blurry buildings, I recognize it as a part of Queens in New York.
Blood Drenched Conquest (Ryze Book 3) Page 4
