Blood Moon Magic

by Isobelle Carmichael

  He rubs his body against mine, whispering filthy nothings in my ear, but I ignore him. I tune him out until he steps back, and I hear the sound of his zipper. He fondles his very average penis while staring directly at me.

  “You like this, don’t you, little whore?”

  Again, I stay silent. Nothing I can add will help my situation. Instead, I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that my mouth fills with blood.

  He continues to rub his penis against me. Between his body touching mine and the revolting combination of stale alcohol, I’m barely keeping myself from vomiting all over the floor.

  Suddenly, he starts grunting behind me like a deranged pig, sliding his dick all over my ass, and and then he shoots his load all over me. I cry silent tears at this last degradation but refuse to shed them outwardly. I’m covered in cum, bleeding, and in so much pain I can barely see straight, but this fucker didn’t break me.

  When they beat me, I may cry out, but I’ll suffer these other indignities in silence.

  They’ll die soon, all of them, and I think I’ll cut off Brad’s balls and let him bleed out slowly.

  The thought brings a genuine smile to my face which this idiot misinterprets.

  “You actually like this don’t you, cunt? Well, I’m glad to see that, because I’m enjoying these little sessions we have together. Maybe after my alpha tires of you, I’ll keep you as my pet. Normally I hate sloppy seconds, but I could be persuaded in this case. Plus, Cheyenne will be a broken used up thing by the time we’re done with her, and I’ll be ready for a new plaything.”

  His words send rage through my body, locking up my muscles as I barely control my shaking. He will not break Chey; she is too sweet, too kind. I cannot let him get to her. I will not fail my pack again.

  “I have to go now pet, but I’ll be back, and we can have some more fun.”

  He leaves me tied to the cross and exits the room. The door closes with a soft snick, and I let the tears fall. Silently, tracks make their way to my unwashed skin and drip onto my breasts. My arms ache from their forced positions, and my back burns from its most recent abuse. I want to feel sorry for myself, but I know if I do, I’m letting them win. Instead, I go inside myself to that place where my will is strongest and seek my magic.

  Ever since Abby healed me, I have found spells much easier to master. I chant a spell to ease my pain. Usually spells for personal gain would be frowned upon, but I’m certain the goddess would not begrudge me this. I sigh in relief as the worst of the pain recedes from my body. Now my skin can heal at an accelerated rate, and I won’t feel it. I don’t usually use spells to reduce pain, but I know I need them in order to survive this ordeal. I’ve thought so many times about escaping, but when I think about Abby and Chey trapped in this hellhole, it only renews my resolve to stay.

  I’ve fantasized about using a spell to kill Bradley, but I don’t know any strong enough. Besides, after what he’s put me through, a quick death is far too good for him. I want to make him bleed by my own hand. I drift to sleep thinking of all the ways I could torture my tormentors.

  “Here sweetheart, drink this,” I don’t know this voice, but it’s lyrical and soothing. A gentle hand grips my chin.

  “Come on, baby girl. Wake up and drink.” A cup presses against my lips, and I take an exploratory sniff. When I catch no hints of anything but light metal, I gulp down the cold liquid. It soothes my damaged throat which is raw from crying out. Greedily, I finish the glass of water offered to me. I’m confused by this act of kindness, and wary of what this new game might be. I know this voice from before. It was the one that sounded hesitant.

  He’s probably here to be nice to me, and then the abuse will start again once I let my guard down.

  I ready myself for an attack. Just because someone gave me water doesn’t mean they’re a good person. They probably just want to make sure I don’t die before they’re done using me.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he says as if he can read my mind. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” His voice breaks, and I look up, perplexed by the emotion in his voice.

  The eyes peering down at me are brown and compassionate and set in a rich umber face. I want to trust those eyes implicitly, but knowing that they belong to a pack member of the Death Claws makes that an illogical decision.

  “Why are you helping me?” I ask, the words coming out as raw and jagged as my back. The scabs throb in a constant reminder that I am living a true nightmare. Unfortunately, my magic can only take away the worst of the pain; it can’t take away all of it.

  “I just want to help. I hate this so much. I knew what they did down here, but I have never seen them do anything this horrific.”

  “Oh, so you’re fine with abuse and torture as long as it’s not too bad?” my voice drips with disdain.

  Sure, he gave me water, but who the fuck is he? Another ass, in a pack of assholes no doubt.

  “No! It’s not like that at all. You don’t understand what it’s like for us here; how insane Nathaniel is!”

  “Then why don’t you help me get out of here?” The look of regret in his eyes gives me my answer. It also renews my desire to kill every member of this pack as soon as I get a chance.

  “Helping you means death for me, and while I don’t care about that for myself, what I do care about is my little sister. She’s only twelve, but the way some of these men look at her terrifies me. If they find out that I was the one who let you free, she’d be chained up next to you, and I won’t abandon her to those savages like our parents did to us! I’m trying to find a way to smuggle her out of here, but until I do, I can’t go anywhere. That means I have to be smart and play the fucking mind games needed in this hellhole to avoid suspicion.” His eyes are pleading for me to understand.

  “So that’s a no then, on the whole helping me thing?” I can’t keep the condemnation out of my voice. “You’re just going to come in and tend to my wounds after they’re done beating me and raping me?” His eyes are now downcast.

  “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. It’s not an excuse, and it’s not enough, but the women in this pack … they’re treated like property, and I’m the only family my sister has left. I’m the only person keeping her safe.”

  I don’t want this wolf’s sob story to have any effect on me. There’s no way for me to even know if he’s telling me the truth. No matter how earnest his words are, as far as I’m concerned, it’s just another ploy for me to let my guard down. I’m not going to fall for that shit.

  “Look at me!” He slowly returns his eyes to my own, and I spit the words at him. “You know that’s what they’re doing to me, don’t you? Can you smell the blood? The fear? Your packmate and your alpha are ripping my skin to shreds with whips, and canes, and knives and then raping me and laughing while they do it. And you think your apology is supposed to mean a damn thing to me?”

  “I didn’t know they were going to do this. I mean yes, I knew they were planning this stupid kidnapping for Abigail and Cheyenne. I didn’t know about you. I’m not involved with anything that happens down here. I turn a blind eye toward all of their posturings. To be honest, I thought it was all just talk after what happened at your bar! I try to just follow orders and keep my head down.” I scoff at his naivety and feel the urge to smack him.

  Who is this pathetic excuse for a shifter?

  I am incensed. The outrage coats me like a suit of armor as I force the words out. I want there to be no mistake, so I speak slowly. “You could stop this, you know? But you’re too weak to do anything! I can see why your pack is the lowest of low.”

  Hurt blooms across his face like the petals of a morning glory when the first rays of sun hit it. With his dark skin, I can’t see his embarrassment, but I could fall into the chasm of guilt in his eyes. In a moment, anger replaces his guilt, and he seems to have made a decision.

  My wolf hearing alerts me to the sound of the basement door creaking open, and I clamp my mouth shut. He tenses at the sound of footsteps echoing down t
he hallway. One look at his face and I know he won’t help me out of my chains—the fucking coward.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go now, but I will try to get you out of here somehow.” He squeezes my hand, and a jolt of magic shoots through me. We stare at each other in shock. Horror and rage fill me as his eyes widen in recognition. Despite her weakened state, my wolf just Claimed him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Abby

  The smell of mold and stale water permeates my nostrils, and I thank the goddess I haven’t been fed in a while. I would hate to vomit ... again. This damn cage smells fucking awful. I count my blessings that Ronnie is no longer being tortured, but I know it’s only a matter of time before Chey and I are next. I don’t want to think about it, but I can’t stop. Her screams are on a loop in my head. My wolf has been silent, I’m sure because of the silver cuffs, and I miss her so much. I never realized how much I relied on her, but her absence is noticeable. I hear voices as the door to the basement opens, and loud, stomping feet on the stairs.

  “Hello, little she-bitch,” a voice says, drunkenly. “That little whore Ronnie is worn out, so it’s time for a new toy, and I choose you.”

  Kevin started to visit me the first night after his father threatened me. I knew I wouldn’t be safe with Kevin, but he’s confused the fuck out of me. His eyes shine brightly with that of his wolf, but Kevin can’t shift. It makes no sense. I overheard his deal with his father. Kevin would prove to his father that he was worthy of taking over as alpha. He would prove it in blood and bruises.

  He is always drinking, and honestly, I thought he would have raped or beat me himself by now, but he hasn’t. Instead, he gets his kicks by telling his pals how to use me. Like a voyeur, he sits and gets shit-faced while calling out orders. It’s like a fucked up game of Simon Says.

  He never lets anyone penetrate me, growling that no one will ever touch his wife but him, but everything else is on the table. I have been spit on, strung up, whipped, and degraded.

  I take it all because whatever I’m getting is nothing compared to Ronnie, and I know that. I don’t know why she’s their favorite pet, but I wish I could find a way to make them choose me instead. As future alpha, it should be me who takes all of it. She’s my responsibility, and well, I fucking failed.

  A shit faced and red-eyed Kevin strolls in with Bradley and some men I don’t know. He unlocks our cage and invites his henchmen in. I steel myself for what’s to come.

  “Look, boys, you know the rules. They won’t be getting fucked … yet.” He leers and oogles me, his gaze coating me like slime.

  “Well, look at you now, Abby. Not feeling so bold now that I’m in charge, are you?”

  “Fuck you, Kevin, and your asshole friends here!”

  “Naughty, naughty little bitch. You’re not supposed to mouth off to your future alpha like that!” Kevin just nods to his packmates.

  The men attack us then, all at once. I can’t think through the fucking pain. There are fists flying and kicks landing in soft spots. A particularly vicious one hits my stomach, and my already broken ribs protest the onslaught.

  “Boys,” he barks, “string her up. It’s time to teach this one her place.”

  I lock eyes with Chey, wishing I could use telepathy to let her know it was going to be okay. But then they grab her, too.

  “Don’t worry, Abby. We wouldn’t want your bestie to be alone,” he sneers. “It just so happens this little piece of furniture can perform double duty.”

  I’m dragged to the cross which is still wet with what I can only assume is Ronnie’s blood. My cheek is pressed hard against the wood, transferring her blood to my face. I can smell her pain layered on top of the scent of rust and stale sweat.

  These motherfuckers.

  They tie Chey up on the other side of the cross, and I am forced to look deep into her brown eyes. I cannot fathom what is about to happen to us. I clutch her hands as best I can through our joint bonds and pray to the goddess, but it’s all futile, nothing is going to stop this.

  I scream when the first lash of the whips hits me, and the resulting laughter that echoes around the room pisses me off.

  “Again,” Kevin cries out. He raises his bottle of beer to me, in some sort of sick sadistic toast before drinking it all in one long gulp. I grit my teeth after that. I’m not going to give them what they want.

  If they want my screams, they’re going to have to earn them, and they better fucking work hard because my resolve is stronger than any of these cowards!

  Time is nothing but a concept, and I go into a trance-like state to silently endure the pain. It’s only Chey’s gut-wrenching screams that can break through to me. I suddenly fear that I’m going to die. It’s not the pain being inflicted on my own body. It’s the terror in her eyes as I watch her soul dim. My biggest fear is that the spark in her eyes will grow smaller until all that is left is a cold, dead version of who she once was.

  I’ve never once considered the difference between physical and psychological torture. But now, I’ve been confronted with a real-life comparison. Trapped in this dungeon has taught me so much about the darker side of life. I’m afraid an evil part of me has been unlocked, and there’s no way I can put it back in its cage now.

  I now know just how much it hurts when a whip soaked with an infusion of wolfsbane and tipped with silver cuts into your skin. I can give a detailed blow-by-blow of what helplessness feels like when your best friend cries out in utter terror as she is tortured at the hands of a sadist. None of this information is anything I’ve ever wanted to know, but now I do, and it is forever seared into my memory. I can barely sleep because when I close my eyes, it’s all I see—blood flying through the air, torn skin, and the smell of defeat and broken spirit.

  I want to scream and to cry out about how fucked up it all is, but it would be futile. These fuckers have me, and I need to figure out a way to get all of us out of here. I bide my time and come up with ways to make things tolerable. I sing to Chey in my—serviceable at best—voice. I give her words of comfort; I try to distract her. But I will tell you I’d take the physical over the mental torture every time.

  As an alpha, there is nothing worse than seeing the people you’ve sworn to protect ravaged and brutalized, and not being able to do anything about it.

  I’m such a fucking failure. How did I not see this coming? How will I explain this to my mother? I miss my guys; I wonder how they’re doing. I can only imagine they’re wreaking havoc trying to get to me.

  I plot my escape, and I use a bit of magic each time. It hurts so bad, but pain is a relative concept now. I don’t understand how my magic can trickle through in tiny drops, but I thank the goddess for it. When I reach out for my men, nothing happens. It’s like a giant black hole, and nothing gets through.

  I’d finally found a few moments of peace to sleep when I hear the key turning in the lock. It jerks me to alertness. I hold my breath in trepidation waiting to see who rounds the corner. When a familiar figure comes into view, I can’t help the tremor of fear that runs through me.

  Oh shit, it’s Kevin. He’s back. Now he and his pack of asshats are going to beat us.

  My heart is beating like a hummingbird, the blood is rushing in my ears, and I think I’m going to be sick. Gulping mouthfuls of air like my lungs are starved of oxygen; I do the best I can to get a handle on my emotions. Worse than the beatings, has been waiting for them to take the next step. That mind fuck has me on edge. My magic bursts to the surface and I brace myself for the burning, searing pain, but it doesn’t come.

  I don’t know what is going on, but you can bet your ass I am going to use it to my advantage?

  I don’t want him to know that my magic suppression cuffs have stopped working.I give him a blank stare, but inside a rush of excitement zings through me.

  I have a chance to get out of this hellhole now!

  My muscles are tense as I remain poised to defend myself if he tries to put his hands on me. I will never stop figh
ting.

  His beefy frame fills the doorway of my cell, and his hands are gloved. I assume it’s to protect himself from our silver cage, but based on the look of those gloves, it looks like they’ll also provide extra damage protection. Behind him enters a beautiful blond man with eyes so green they rival the emerald of Marcus’s. Next to him is a beautiful black man with short cropped hair. None of them are smiling, and I realize our luck has finally run out.

  He comes closer to me and crouches down leering into my face, a sneer on his lips.

  “Look at this. The little princess is all tied up and at my mercy. It will be a pleasure to spill your blood for my pack,” he says. “I think I should take you to my room for a little alone time. After all, if you’re going to be my wife, I should get to know you better.”

  The acid in my empty stomach churns at his words, but I look him directly in his eyes and let him see the venom in them. He leans close to me and hovers his lips over my mouth. I do not want those disgusting lips on mine, so I try to back up, but I’m already flush against the wall.

  “Oh sweetie, come give your future husband a kiss,” he croons.

  “Don’t fucking touch me you piece of shit.” I jerk my face from side to side, violently fighting to avoid his kiss. He grasps my chin roughly with his hands and forces my head up. The juxtaposition of his butter-soft leather gloves and the harsh way he’s manhandling my face is difficult to process in my impaired state. “Keep fighting me, whore, and I’ll slap you. And address me as Sir from now on!” he roars in my face, sending spittle flying at me.

  “That’s it. Teach that bitch who’s in charge,” yells out one of my asshole guards. His hand keeps my chin captive, and I’m forced to stare into his eyes as he moves his lips back down towards my own.

  When they’re a mere hairsbreadth away he whispers, “Look, I will keep them occupied for as long as I can, but you need to figure out a way to get out of those cuffs, and soon, because I will not be able to save you from them forever. They will get tired of waiting, they will use you, and they will kill you. I have done the best I can to protect you.” He stares at me, his eyes boring into mine.