“I’m talking to you,” Sophie said with exaggerated innocence.
“You know what I mean. Someone more qualified to help you with your problems. If you’re suddenly sleepwalking again, or…questioning what’s real and what’s not—”
“I’m not crazy, Kate.”
Am I?
Kate’s eyes widened. “No, of course you’re not! You’ve just been through a lot, Sophie. A professional might be able to help you work through everything you’ve endured. Help you work through your trauma.”
Sophie clutched the edge of the counter hard enough to make her fingers ache. “I talk to you, Kate.”
“I know,” Kate said gently, “but not about everything.”
“You don’t need to hear everything. You’ve seen enough, and you’ve taken so much of it onto yourself already.” Sophie’s eyes stung; she resisted the urge to rub them. “This is all going to work out for the best, and I’ll never have to worry about him again.”
And I have the forest spirit’s protection.
But that wasn’t real! She couldn’t depend upon an…an imaginary friend.
“Is he still there?” Sophie asked.
“Yeah. He hasn’t left the house today as far as I know. He’s had a few people over, but no one I recognize.”
Much of Sophie’s tension eased. So long as Tyler stayed there, she was safe here. “Any plans for Halloween this year?”
Kate’s frown sent a clear message — I don’t like you changing the subject — but it gave way to a cheeky grin. “I have a date.”
“Really?” Sophie smiled with vicarious excitement. Kate had had a few casual flings since she and Sophie became friends, but she only dated when she was serious about a guy.
“Yep. There’s a company party on Halloween night, and this girl’s got a plus one.”
Sophie chuckled. “What are you going as this year? A sexy nun? Sexy nurse? Harem girl?”
Kate laughed. “Close! Hold on a minute.” She disappeared, giving Sophie a view of Kate’s office wall.
There was a bookcase on each side of the window behind Kate’s desk. One was filled with books and files pertaining to Kate’s work as an accountant, and the other, to Sophie’s constant delight, was filled to the brim with romance novels — including all the books Sophie had written. As soon as Kate had discovered Sophie was an author, she’d purchased and read every single one. It had been Kate who pushed her to begin writing again after everything with Tyler.
The camera spun around, and Kate stepped back so she was fully in frame and posed with her hands on her hips and her feet wide. Sophie’s jaw dropped. Kate’s long, dark hair was swept back and held in place by a golden headband with a red star at its center. She wore a shiny red, sleeveless corset that pushed up her breasts, a wide golden belt, and the tiniest, shiniest blue booty shorts Sophie had ever seen. She would have killed for legs like Kate’s.
“What do you think?” Kate asked, turning around to give Sophie a three-sixty. “Do I look like a sexy superhero?”
“Wow! You look amazing!”
“Really?” She grinned, turning the computer back toward the bookcases as she took her seat.
Sophie wiggled her brows. “I’d do you.”
They both laughed.
“So, who is this guy?” Sophie asked.
“Actually…” Kate cleared her throat and dropped her gaze. “He was your nurse while you were in the hospital.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “No way! Steve?”
Kate’s cheeks flushed, and she nodded. “Yep. Steve.”
Steve had always had a smile for Sophie. He’d been so sweet, kind, and considerate while Sophie had recovered from the damage Tyler had done. He was a single dad with two kids; during their many conversations, he’d revealed that his wife had cheated on him three years before, and they’d gone through a rough divorce. He hadn’t been interested in dating afterward, putting all his focus into his two girls…until he met Kate.
He’d tried to hide his interest in Kate when she came to visit, but his normally smooth, easy-going demeanor had turned into a stammering, awkward mess on more than one occasion. Sophie had found it endearing.
“It’s been months since I left the hospital,” Sophie said.
“We exchanged numbers while you were still in there, and we’ve been taking things slow since then. Texting and talking and…Facetiming.” Kate’s smile told Sophie all she needed to know; this was serious. “We haven’t gone out in person yet, but...”
“I’m so happy for you!”
They spoke for another half hour as Sophie made dinner, laughing throughout, and Sophie felt a hundred times lighter by the time they said their goodbyes. She finished eating dinner and cleaned up. After checking all the locks, she went to take a shower.
She let the water run to warm it up as she undressed and tossed her dirty clothes in the hamper. As she was about to step into the tub, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She frowned at the mottled, purple bruise on her side. She pressed her hand over it; the spot was slightly larger than her hand, and though it was tender, the pain wasn’t unbearable. Where had it come from? Why hadn’t she noticed it before?
The bear.
No. That didn’t happen.
If it’d been a bear, she’d be dead. There was no way she would’ve survived a bear attack with nothing but a bruise.
Cruce.
No! He wasn’t real. There were no spirit-men made of living shadow lurking in the woods. It was a fantasy, a delusion.
So why did she feel like someone was watching her even now? Wasn’t that a delusion, too?
“It’s just my imagination adjusting to the new place, nothing more. I’m not going crazy.” She stared at the bruise. “I fell and hit my side on the floor while I was sleepwalking, and my subconscious turned it into a bear attack in my dream. That’s all.”
Why did that explanation feel less rational than the shadow-man bear attack?
Because it’s the same sort of story I told people who noticed the bruises Tyler left on me.
Looking away in disgust, she shoved those thoughts aside and stepped into the shower.
The hot water felt wonderful, instantly soothing her. She sighed and turned the heat up a little more before cleaning herself.
As she rinsed away the soap, Sophie’s thoughts strayed back to her dream. She recalled the feel of shadowy tendrils gliding along her limbs, the thrilling tingle of their chilly touch, and Cruce looming over her like a dark, lust-inducing god.
Before Sophie knew it, her hands were massaging her breasts. She’d resisted the urge this morning, but she couldn’t help touching herself now. Her nipples were responsive, her skin overly sensitive beneath the hot water, and her sex clenched with need.
Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back. Water ran in rivulets down her chest and back.
Sophie cupped her breasts, caressing them, and tweaked her nipples, imagining it was Cruce’s hands upon her. A low, needy moan escaped her. A strange but pleasurable sensation trailed down her torso, icy and hot at once, setting her skin ablaze. She didn’t think; she just felt.
She tilted her head to the side, allowing more water to flow over her shoulder and down toward her pelvis, and parted her thighs. The sensation intensified, dipping to brush along her folds, the pressure concentrating on her clit before slipping inside her. Sophie squeezed her breasts and gasped as pleasure threatened to overcome her.
She opened her eyes abruptly.
It was dark.
Her body tensed, her hands stilled, and she inhaled sharply. The stream of water continued unbroken, but there was something else caressing her.
Faint light stole into the bathroom through the window, and as her eyes adjusted to it, she looked down. Deep, dark shadows obscured the tub, surrounding her body like mist. They sculpted to her every curve, their cool touch counteracted by the hot water passing through them to shower her skin.
This was what had been touching her.
Sophie jerked back and screamed, slapping at the shadow. Her hands connected with nothing solid until her palm struck her own thigh.
“Be at ease, mortal,” said the voice from last night — Cruce’s voice. Its deep bass was amplified by the walls of the shower, vibrating through her to heighten her pleasure despite her startlement.
She turned around. “Oh my God!”
He stood tall, as imposing as he was alluring, a black abyss exuding sensuality and calling her into his dark embrace. It seemed impossible that he could fit in the bathroom; he was too large, too powerful, too otherworldly. The faint points of light that must’ve been his eyes stared down at her from within the darkness.
Cruce chuckled, and she felt his touch just beneath her ear, trailing lazily down her neck. “I can be your god,” he purred, “and lavish you with pleasures beyond your wildest dreams.”
Sophie panted as her climax built, threatening to burst through her. She squeezed her thighs together and swatted at the tendrils of shadow stroking her sex. “Stop it,” she rasped.
To her shock, his motions paused. Sophie’s hips nearly bucked of their own accord; her body needed more. Her annoyance at her reaction solidified her resolve.
“Is this not what you desire, Josephine Davis?”
“I didn’t ask for this.” Her words trembled faintly; she shook with unfulfilled desire, with the need for release.
“Asking and wanting are not one in the same.” The shadowy hold on her tightened subtly. He leaned closer, his eyes boring into hers. “I feel your desire, your need. You need not ask for pleasure. I offer it to you freely.”
“I won’t be manipulated by you.” She clenched her jaw, forcing her body to still its treacherous movements, and met his gaze. “I want you out, Cruce.”
“Out?” His low voice reminded her of crisp leaves blowing across the ground. “Josephine…”
“Get out of my home,” she repeated.
He released an inhuman growl, and his shadows receded rapidly. His form seemed to diminish as he withdrew from the shower. The curtain moved as though in a breeze, and the faint night glow from outside brightened slightly, but the overhead light did not come back on.
Sophie swallowed. The rapid pounding of her heart was underscored by the sound of water falling to the floor of the tub, but otherwise, all was silent.
Cruce was gone.
I’m hallucinating. That’s all this is. The lightbulb just burned out, or—
Something roared outside; it was a layered sound, and it chilled Sophie to the bone. She didn’t know of any animals that could make a call like that.
She hurried out of the tub and nearly slipped on her way to the light switch. The bulbs over the mirror flared on. Momentarily blinded, she extended her arms and returned to the shower to turn off the water. Then she wrapped a towel around herself and retreated to the corner, where she slid down into a sitting position and hugged her legs close to her chest.
It was real. He was real. She wasn’t crazy or overly imaginative. There was something out there, something that had been watching her from the moment she’d arrived.
Another roar sounded outside, followed by a guttural snarl.
She’d angered him. Would he recant his oath? Why hadn’t he done so already? Why wasn’t he in here now, tearing her to shreds, or doing whatever it was he’d done to the bear?
Why had he left when he clearly hadn’t wanted to?
That confused her the most.
When she was sure he wasn’t going to come charging back into the cabin, she slowly pulled herself to her feet. Clutching the edges of the towel to her chest, Sophie moved to the door and opened it. She peered outside it and into the living room and kitchen. Only a single light was on — her small desk lamp. She scrutinized every shadow from her place in the doorway; there was no sign of him.
Racing out of the bathroom, she turned on every light in the house and closed every curtain. Once that was done, she retreated into her bedroom, heart pounding. She held her breath, listening for sounds from outside, but heard nothing.
Was he gone?
She dried off and dressed quickly before retrieving her baseball bat from the corner. Lifting the bat, she stared down at it for several moments. Her lip fell into a deep frown.
What the hell am I going to do with this? He’s made of shadow!
Sophie returned the bat to its place, climbed onto the bed, and pulled the covers over her head. This was what kids did when they were frightened, right? You were safe while hiding under the blanket, untouchable, invisible.
She had no means by which to mark the passage of time as she waited.
Nothing happened.
Did he tell me the truth? Does he really mean me no harm?
To make matters worse, her body still throbbed with lust, her sex aching with unfulfilled desire.
Chapter 5
Fury roiled within Cruce, disrupting and distorting his form as he stalked the woods around the cabin. His anger was fueled by his own unsated appetite — he wanted more of Sophie, to touch her, to relish her warmth. He wanted her scent, which had been sweetened by the perfume of her arousal, to sweep through him. She’d yearned for what he’d attempted to give her; he’d felt it.
And she’d rejected him anyway.
His being thrummed with new energy — with energy from Sophie. But he hadn’t drained her, hadn’t taken. Somehow, their intimacy, her arousal, had poured fresh strength into him, as potent as any he’d taken from other humans but more satisfying because of its source. Now, it only heightened his rage.
He moved around the rear of the cabin. She’d drawn all the curtains, but the lights were still on inside. She was awake; he wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was certain of it.
No one had ever exercised such dominance over him — not even the queen when she’d cursed him. It stung to have been turned away so thoroughly by a mortal.
That his want for the same mortal hadn’t diminished was infuriating.
Whether wittingly or not, she’d invoked the ancient laws to which he remained bound. Though her home stood within the borders of his forest, it belonged to Sophie, and she was master within its walls. Just as the queen had been master within her own court despite it laying inside Cruce’s domain.
The reminder of the queen, of his curse, stoked the fires of his fury. He longed for an outlet for his anger, but there could be none. Any damage he inflicted upon his forest and its creatures was a direct blow to himself. His power, though sealed by the curse, remained connected to the health and balance of his forest. Each time he drained one of its plants or beasts, he gained a temporary rush of energy, and his domain weakened just a little more because the natural order had been disrupted by his feeding.
He prowled the area around the cabin restlessly, his attention fixated on the windows, watching for any movement within and waiting with unreasonable anticipation for even the briefest glimpse of Sophie. In time, the sky lightened with approaching dawn.
Cruce ignored the feeling of diminishment that swept over him as the sun rose, continuing his agitated patrol. Not long after sunrise, he spied movement through the tiny gap in one of the front window curtains. Sophie emerged from her bed chamber, but she didn’t emerge onto the porch with her hot beverage to enjoy the morning light as she had each morning since her arrival. She didn’t look outside, didn’t so much as touch the curtains.
He darted between the ever-shifting patches of shadow beneath the canopy while the day slowly passed, longing for her to emerge, longing to go to her, clinging to his rage throughout.
Just the thought of entering her home again sent a strange, foreboding ripple through him; her willpower in casting him out was as strong as any warding spell he’d ever encountered. Trying to break it would bring only pain.
She spent most of the day at her desk, staring at the strange device through which she’d conversed with her friend, Kate. He wasn’t sure what she was doing with it — she manipulated its cont
rols with speed and familiarity, but his view was so limited by the curtains that he could not see the screen from any angle.
Cruce’s fury smoldered; she was willfully ignoring his presence, was ignoring her own desires simply to spite him. He was Lord of the Forest, ancient and powerful, awe-inspiring and terrifying, protector and destroyer within his realm. Who was she to pretend he did not exist? Who was she to spurn him?
And yet he was powerless. Whatever Cruce had been, he was merely a shade now, a cursed thing, and this mortal had overcome him.
The clear, cerulean sky allowed pure sunlight to stream down over the forest, sapping the strength Cruce had received from Sophie as the day wore on. His movements slowed, as they always did when it was so bright. He did not release his anger, and he refused to find a more comfortable location where he could take shelter and await the relief evening would bring.
She had to come outside eventually. When she did, he would be waiting, and he’d…
What would he do? What could he do? He was oathbound to protect Sophie, and despite his anger, the thought of doing her harm remained sickening to him. What sort of position had he placed himself in?
He cast his doubts aside; they would do him no good. He wasn’t meant to suffer doubt or indecision. He wasn’t meant to answer to the whims of mortals…
Sometime after the sun had set and darkness had descended upon the forest, Sophie opened her front door. Cruce watched from the shadows as light spilled through the closed screen door to fall upon a wide swath of the hard-packed dirt and damp, fallen leaves in front of her home. She stood in the doorframe, silhouetted by the golden glow from within, looking confident and powerful. For that instant, she seemed a queen in her own right.
How would she look with a crown of autumn leaves atop her auburn hair, striding through the trees, head held high and eyes bright? How would it feel to have her walking beside him, arms intertwined?
“I know you’re there,” she said, eyes shifting as though searching the darkness.
His Darkest Craving Page 6
