His Darkest Craving

by Tiffany Roberts

  Somehow, he held himself back. She was not in control. He would not play this game, would not allow her to ignore him all day and then hurry to her side when she finally deigned to acknowledge him.

  “Come out. We need to talk.” She folded her lips inward and bit them. Her expression warred with itself, producing a line between her brows. “Come to me now, Cruce.”

  Her voice caressed his name, but no matter how sweet she made it sound, the command was clear. Bristling, he surged across the open ground and drew himself up in front of her door. She flinched back as he leaned toward her, hunching his tall figure to meet her gaze.

  “What have you to say, mortal?” he snarled.

  “It’s true,” she breathed, eyes wide.

  “What is true?”

  “That using your true name would compel you.”

  Cruce growled. “You toy with dangerous forces if you mean to control me, human.”

  “No, I—” She snapped her mouth shut, glanced away from him, then straightened her posture. “We need to set boundaries.”

  He dipped his eyes toward the threshold; he was powerless to cross it. He lifted his gaze back to her.

  “What you did wasn’t right. This is my home, my…my body.” She swallowed. “You had no right to touch me like that.”

  “It was what you desired. You craved my touch, Josephine Davis. You crave it still.”

  “No, I don’t!”

  Cruce could taste her lie.

  “Whether or not I did,” she continued, “I never asked for it, never invited it. You came into my home and a-assaulted me. I came here to get away from—” She pressed her lips together and looked away from him, but Cruce caught the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “I came here to be safe. Yesterday, I didn’t feel safe.”

  The sight of her tears struck him deep; a strange, constricting feeling spread through his being. “I am oathbound to protect you.”

  “But what will protect me from you?”

  “I have done you no harm. Just as I vowed.”

  “Those are just words, and I’m sure you have your own…supernatural definitions you’ve put into place in your head to twist them to your advantage. There are a lot of ways to hurt someone. Not all of them are physical.”

  He wanted this to be nothing more than her bending the truth, nothing more than her attempt at manipulation to gain more from him. He wanted her to have some ulterior motive. Cruce was used to such maneuvers — they’d been as much a part of his world as magic. Spirits and fae constantly attempted to bend the laws into their favor, to gain advantage over one another based on such subtleties.

  But he knew at his core that this was the truth. Her truth.

  “Come outside, Josephine Davis.”

  She met his gaze again and pressed a hand against the screen door, pushing it open only a sliver before pausing. “Why?”

  “So I may prove that I mean you no harm.” That was only part of it, though. He wanted to touch her, to feel her heat, to revel in the responses of her body. He had no intention to drain her, but there were so many ways he wanted to use her for his own amusement.

  He longed to do all the things she claimed she didn’t want.

  “And you can’t lie because you’re…fae, right?” she asked.

  “I am not fae,” he replied, “I am something other. The Lord of the Forest.”

  “But you can be controlled by your true name.”

  “Many beings can be controlled by their true name, if it is wielded by one knowledgeable enough.”

  “Y-you have mine. Can…can you control me?”

  “No.” He sank lower, shadows writhing restlessly over the porch, desperate for another feel of her.

  “But you would if you were able, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes.” He eased closer to the screen door, his eyes boring into hers. “I want you, Josephine Davis.”

  Her pupils dilated, and a soft breath escaped her parted lips. She wanted him, too. Her attempts to display the contrary couldn’t hide her true feelings.

  “Then why would I join you outside? How can I trust you when you openly admit that you’d use my name against me? When you say that you…you want me?”

  “Would my desire for you be condemned in your mortal realm?” he asked, brushing tendrils of shadow over the screen. “I am not Tyler.”

  She drew back, eyes gleaming with sudden terror, and the screen door banged shut.

  “I have given you my oath, Josephine Davis. So long as you are within my woods, you are under my protection from any threat — mortal or otherwise. He will do you no harm here.”

  “How do you—”

  “As I have admitted, I have watched and listened. I cannot pretend to understand most of your mortal affairs, but I understand that he has done you harm, and you fear he will do so again.”

  She was silent for a time, her eyes moving over his form. He felt unclean beneath her gaze, unworthy, and wondered what she saw as she looked at him. This was not his body, this was not Cruce; this was his curse. A curse that had caused him great anger and bitterness, but never shame. Not until that moment.

  “If you’re not fae, then you can lie, can’t you?” she asked. “And why would you protect me when I know your name? I could use it against you.”

  “I may lie, yes, but I have not lied to you, Josephine Davis. My instinct was to trust you with my name, as I have trusted only one other before.” He leaned even closer, and her scent drifted to him through the screen. “Was I mistaken to place my trust in you?”

  “That…depends.”

  He withdrew from the screen, studying her posture, her expression. Despite her apparent fear, there was strength at her center — the iron resolve he’d sensed in her life force. “Upon what?”

  “The boundaries I set. If you cross them, I will use whatever means necessary to protect myself from you.”

  She knew how to cast him out of her home, but what else did she know? What else was she capable of? He couldn’t tell if she was speaking from knowledge or empty bravado, but he found himself strangely thrilled, either way.

  “What…boundaries do you propose, mortal?”

  She held up a hand and tallied her fingers as she spoke. “Do not eavesdrop on my conversations. Do not enter my home uninvited. Do not grope me without invita—um, actually, just don’t grope me.” Her cheeks flushed. “And don’t…invade my dreams.”

  Cruce eased forward. “You have dreamed of me?”

  Somehow, her skin reddened further, coming to nearly match her auburn hair. She looked away and said nothing; it was all the confirmation he needed.

  Magic had a multitude of effects on mortals, some unpredictable, but influencing a human’s dreams typically required a concentrated effort, the working of a spell. He possessed no such ability under his curse.

  He recalled the state in which she’d woken two days before, the first time he’d scented her arousal. Had she been dreaming of him then?

  What was it about this mortal that so drew him to her, what was it that seemed to connect them so deeply?

  “That was not my doing, Josephine Davis. Perhaps it is your heart revealing your true desire.”

  “If you’re not doing it, then you don’t know what they were about,” she said. “You could be killing me in my dreams for all you know.”

  He chuckled. “A fitting play on words. Does not your kind sometimes refer to it as the little death?”

  Sophie stepped back and raised her hands to her cheeks. “Oh my God, how do you even know that?”

  She’d been attempting to deflect the line of conversation, but Cruce had dealt with masters of such tactics. Sophie had much more to learn if she meant to guard her truth. But he found her inability to mask her inner thoughts endearing. The honesty — even if it was inadvertent some of the time — was a refreshing change from what he’d been used to for most of his existence.

  “I must propose a condition of my own before I agree to anything,” he said.

&nbs
p; She eyed him warily. “What…condition?”

  “I have given my name into your holding. It is to be shared with no one else under any circumstances. And you will not use it against me unless you feel wholeheartedly that I am in violation of your boundaries.”

  She nodded. “I swear. I won’t share it with anyone else or use it against you unless I feel it is necessary.”

  “Then I accept your boundaries, Josephine Davis. We must seal the agreement.”

  “Okay. Do I… Do we need to seal it in blood or something?”

  He looked down at the wisps of shadow that comprised him, then back up at her.

  She frowned. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Open the door, Sophie.”

  She glanced at the door, hesitating. She undoubtedly feared him, but her curiosity was stronger. Flattening a hand on the board running across its center, she pushed, slowly opening the screen door wide.

  Cruce moved forward, his shadows flickering and writhing, and brushed a tendril over the heated skin of her arm. She sucked in a sharp breath but did not pull back.

  “Lean forward,” he said, “over the threshold.”

  Keeping her eyes locked with his, she did as he’d instructed.

  Focusing all his willpower into the endeavor, he forced his shadows into a form as close to his physical body as he could, drawing in the wisps to solidify himself. Were the full moon not so near, he would have been unable to accomplish it with such relative ease.

  Dipping his head, he brushed his lips over hers. Her warmth arced across his face, spreading throughout his illusory body, crackling with electric energy. He felt her pleasure, her uncertainty, her fear, but most of all, her desire. It flowed into him, blasting him with new strength and shoving aside his ever-present hunger.

  Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. He took advantage of what she unwittingly offered by sliding his tongue into her mouth, exploring for a moment before the sensation, the power, was too much, and he lost his tenuous hold on his form.

  He withdrew from her as his shadows roiled, unable to settle upon a shape.

  Sophie stepped back, covering her mouth with a hand and staring at him with dazed eyes. The screen door swung shut with an even louder bang. “You kissed me.”

  Cruce hummed deeply. Sophie’s taste and scent lingered within him, and her life essence pulsed stronger than ever. He did not understand how he’d taken from her without doing her harm. “Our pact is made, Josephine Davis.”

  When she did not reply, he moved a bit closer. “Will you invite me inside?”

  Her eyes widened further, and his words seemed to snap her out of her daze. “No! N-not tonight.”

  “We’ve much more to dis—”

  She slammed the interior door, plunging his section of porch into relative darkness. Her life force radiated from the other side of the door, and he pictured her standing with her back against it, her heart racing.

  Cruce laughed as he slowly retreated to the trees. His mortal was intriguing, beguiling, and entertaining. Never had he been inclined to give so much while receiving so little in return.

  But that wasn’t true, was it? He was conceding to her demands, yes, but he’d gain her company in return. Less than a week ago, he wouldn’t have thought time with a mortal could be worthwhile. Now, he possessed a very different opinion.

  He had five days until the full moon on All Hallows Eve. Five days to convince her to eliminate these boundaries. Five days to convince her that she belonged to him.

  Chapter 6

  Indecision churned within Sophie as she stared at the door. The bright morning sunlight streamed in from the east side of the house, filling it with a golden glow. Outside, the shadows were long, but they were not deep. There was nothing to worry about. This was not Cruce’s time.

  Right?

  She tentatively reached for the doorknob only to pull her hand back for the third time. A frustrated growl tore from her throat. Cruce was real, without a doubt, and he’d sworn to protect her. But she still feared him. Things like him weren’t supposed to exist.

  “Why am I being such a coward?”

  The answer should’ve been easy — because I just found out that the supernatural is very real, and very interested in me — but she knew truth in her heart.

  Tyler.

  Her soon-to-be ex-husband had instilled her with a fear of men, and her recognition of that fear’s irrationality made no difference. Even separated by a few hundred miles, he was still taking from her. When would it end? When would she say enough is enough?

  Cruce wasn’t human, but he was undoubtedly masculine. Confident, possessive, and domineering. Everything she’d been taught to submit to. Everything she’d learned to fear.

  And yet, he’d given her his name. She had the power, not him. He couldn’t control her with magic — or at least he said he couldn’t — and she wouldn’t allow herself to be manipulated. She’d not relent to his demands. If anything happened between them, it would be on Sophie’s terms.

  So why did she feel so drawn to him? Cruce’s magnetism was something out of a romance book, the sort of thing she’d built a career writing about. The sort of thing that wasn’t supposed to happen in the real world.

  He’d been the subject of her last thought before she fell asleep, and his name had been on her lips when she awoke to another climax. She’d dreamed of him more intensely than ever last night. Sophie’s lips still tingled with the memory of his cold kiss.

  Taking in a deep breath, Sophie steeled herself, pulled open the front door, and stepped out onto her porch. As she walked down the steps and onto the dirt driveway, the warm sunlight touched her skin, an immediate contrast to the cool, crisp air. Her gaze skimmed the tree line, but she doubted she’d ever spot Cruce unless he wanted to be seen.

  “Are you there?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest. She hadn’t brought her throw, hadn’t even thought about it. Her entire routine had been disrupted; Cruce had largely dominated her thoughts since she woke.

  “Yes.” His voice was the wind sighing through the leaves, flowing over her in a gentle caress. “I am here.”

  She jumped when she heard him; though she’d called to him, and his voice had been soft, part of her still wanted to believe this wasn’t real. Hearing him talk made it far more difficult to pretend he didn’t exist. She turned toward the sound of his voice and swept her gaze from side to side. After several moments, she noticed a slight distortion in the air, more like the blur of heat baking off the hood of a car in the summer than the deep, writhing shadows she’d seen of him thus far.

  “Why are you so…different?” she asked.

  “The sunlight,” he replied. Even his voice was less.

  “Does it weaken you?”

  “It is an aspect of my curse.”

  Sophie frowned. “Your curse? What kind of curse?”

  His faint form moved past her, and part of him brushed across her calf, producing an echo of the chill his touch normally left in its wake. “The kind bestowed by displeased queens upon those who cross them.”

  She turned to follow his movements. It wouldn’t be hard to lose him in this light. “Queens? Like…ladies of the forest?” She refused to acknowledge the flare of jealousy in her gut. It didn’t make sense! He was a shadow, a creature, something inhuman. He wasn’t anything to her…

  “No. It was the queen of a fae court.” He moved into the porch’s shade, and his form grew immediately more defined.

  “So, you weren’t always like…this?” she asked, waving a hand toward him.

  Cruce pressed against the wall and drew his shadows together. “No, I was not always like this. I had a physical form and could cross between the mortal realm and the spirit realm as I wished.”

  “What…did you do? Why were you cursed?”

  He was silent for several moments, his restless shadows expanding and contracting, darkening and fading. “I entered a pact with a fae queen. She required a secure location to establish her court
, well away from mortal eyes. I desired her powerful glamours to obfuscate my forest from the humans who sought to encroach upon it. Together, it seemed, we could prosper.”

  Sophie stepped closer to the porch but kept well within the sunlight. “What happened?”

  “Time passed. The seasons changed. And your kind grew ever bolder in their advances. They felled my trees, hunted my animals, and seemed increasingly unconcerned with the queen’s glamour. My power diminished. Hers remained. I felt as though I was not receiving my end of the bargain. I blamed her, oblivious as I was to the tenacity of mortals. So, I sought to reclaim what I had gifted her. Her court was within my realm, so it should have been mine.” His shadows bristled at that last word, jutting out like spikes before receding.

  “I mistakenly thought myself strong enough to overthrow her. To claim her court, and thereby her crown and the power it commanded. Then I would’ve been able to protect what belonged to me.” He sank low, spreading over the floorboards. “But in her court, she was queen. And I had broken my oath, which had been made upon our true names. She cursed me for my betrayal. Made me into what you see now.”

  Sophie studied him warily. “After all that, why would you give me your name?”

  “As I said, my instincts are to trust you.”

  “Did you…feel the same about the queen?”

  His shadows drifted closer to her. “It was not a matter of trust. It was a matter of necessity. We required one another for survival, and…she enjoyed my company in her bedchamber.”

  “Oh.”

  I don’t care. Nope. Not at all. Why would I? Don’t. Care. At. All.

  So why did it feel like a punch to the gut?

  He produced a low, thoughtful hum. “Is my mortal jealous?”

  “No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “And I’m not your mortal.”

  “Your denial does not alter the truth, Josephine Davis.”

  “Why do you keep saying my name like that?”

  “Because it is your true name.”

  She arched her brow. “Would you like me to speak your name out loud at every turn, then?”

  “So long as we are alone, you may speak it as you wish. I have grown rather fond of the way it sounds when you cry it out in the morning.”