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Captive of Darkness (Heart of Darkness Book 1)

Page 7

by Debbie Cassidy


  Oh, God. Thank God he’d pulled away.

  The ground became firmer, and the marsh morphed into forestland. Veles navigated the terrain easily, but was that a fresh tension in his shoulders? A new wariness. And then a reedy cry drifted on the wind from the east.

  I faltered.

  “Leave it, we can’t help her.”

  Her? “Someone’s in trouble.”

  “Someone’s always in trouble.” He grabbed my arm and yanked me along.

  I dug in my heels. “We have to help them.”

  He made a sound of exasperation. “You want to live, you want to find your brother, then keep moving.”

  Another distressed cry. Hell, no. I pulled hard, jerking my arm from his grasp, and before he could grab me again, I turned and ran in the direction of the sound. Stupid, this was stupid. Veles was right, but there was something inside me that wouldn’t allow me to ignore someone in distress. I didn’t get far before Veles whisked me off my feet. A yelp fell from my lips, and he clapped a hand over my mouth. His palm smelled sweet like the flower he’d offered me back in his den, and saliva pooled in my mouth.

  “Hush.” His breath was hot against the delicate shell of my ear, teasing my pulse into an erratic flutter. “If you insist on doing this, then we do it my way. Keep quiet and follow my lead.”

  I nodded.

  His hand dropped from my mouth to settle on my collar, fingers splaying so his pinky grazed the top of my breasts.

  His lips still hovered at my ear. “I’m going to mark you with my scent again now,” he warned.

  His tone had dropped an octave, evoking a dangerous quiver in my belly to match the one in my pulse.

  “Do not scream. Do not fight me.”

  I nodded again, my words like sticky toffee stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  He gathered my hair into one hand and tugged my head to the side and then his rough, warm tongue made contact with my neck. This time he marked me with light feather strokes, moving across my skin as if savoring it. His lips pressed to the nape of my neck, sucking softly down my spine.

  Was that my moan?

  Oh, God. I couldn’t take much more of this. He maneuvered me with my hair wrapped around his hand, this way and that, his mouth on my earlobe, his tongue tracing my jaw. The urge to turn my head and offer him my mouth was a twisting, building need in my chest. My nails bit the insides of my palms. He sucked on the juncture of my shoulder and neck, his free hand pressed to my upper abdomen just under my breasts. I clamped down on the insides of my cheeks to bite back another moan. Blood pooled in my mouth and then his fist twisted in my hair, yanking me against him while his other hand cupped the side of my head, forcing me to turn to him.

  “No …” My plea was a whisper that came too late and then his lips were on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his moan clashing with mine. Heat and need shot through me.

  Finn.

  No.

  This was wrong. Twisted.

  I tore my mouth from his, batting at him to release me.

  He let go abruptly, stepping back, chest heaving. His mouth was smeared with my blood. Ember gaze on mine, he reached up and swiped a thumb across his bottom lip and then pressed it into his mouth to suck the crimson from it.

  His golden gaze was all pupil now.

  “Are we done?” My voice was husky and breathless.

  “For now.” His expression closed.

  A gentle breeze lifted his dark hair to tease the base of his horns. Strange that I’d almost forgotten about them, but I forced myself to take him in now. His horns, his elongated canines, his larger-than-human body and stature. I forced myself to remember he was a monster, that he belonged here in this godforsaken place called Nawia, where humans were food. I reminded myself that to him, I was food, and then I straightened my spine.

  “In that case, lead the way.”

  A soft cry drifted toward us on the breeze, and with a sigh he stepped around me and began to stride off course into the trees. I followed, weak-kneed and trembling, the imprint of his hands and lips still searing my skin.

  “Do you know what we’re dealing with here?” My voice sounded strange to my ears, thicker than usual. The word “desire” rose up in my mind, but I pushed it back down.

  “Berstuk, the self-proclaimed king of this forest,” Veles said. “He has the power to command the trees, the grass, the fucking rivers. Nature bends to his will, and he uses it to control the inhabitants. The Forlorn that hunted you, hunt for him.”

  “But not you.”

  He snorted. “I hunt for no one but myself.”

  The rush of water swelled in the air. A river? A brook?

  “Let me go,” a female voice cried out.

  I jogged to catch up to Veles as we stepped into a riverside clearing. The moonlight was bright here, illuminating the scene in all its glory, but still my brain struggled to comprehend what it was I was seeing.

  A petite female lay spread-eagled on a rock, her skin like the bark of the trees that surrounded us. Her limbs were bound with green rope … no, not rope, ivy or something similar, and hovering above her were wicked branches and thorns hanging from a nearby tree. Sobs echoed around us, the sobs we’d heard, but they weren’t coming from the woman. The branch lashed at her, running over her skin almost as if it was caressing her, except it left bloody trails in its wake. A trail that welled with blood and then closed. The sobs turned to mournful wails of grief. The woman thrashed, dark eyes flashing, teeth bared.

  “Berstuk, you fucker. You let me go right now, or I swear you’ll be sorry.”

  Laughter echoed in the clearing, rising over the sorrowful moans. “I’ll let you go, Narina. I’ll let you go once I’ve had my fill of you and not a moment sooner. Scream for me.”

  Another branch whipped down toward her, barbed with thorns the size of my hand, and a scream tore from my throat.

  Veles exhaled heavily and then turned his head to give me a flat look.

  I pressed a hand to my mouth and shook my head. But Narina and Berstuk had been alerted to our presence. The branch had halted an inch from her nubile flesh, and Narina’s attention was on us, her eyes widened in surprise.

  “Veles?” she said.

  Veles frowned at the woman for a long beat, and then his brow cleared and his jaw tightened. “Narina.”

  He made it several strides toward her before a branch whipped out to smash him in the chest, sending him reeling backward. He recovered quickly, leaping to his feet and falling into a defensive crouch in front of me.

  “Now, now, Veles. You know the rules of my forest.” The voice was smarmy yet silken-smooth, sending mixed signals to my brain.

  “Berstuk, you twisted bastard, show yourself,” Veles demanded.

  A figure stepped out of the tree line on the other side of the river. He was taller than even Veles, and his naked torso gleamed in the silver rays of the moon, every dip and shadow of his abdominal muscles on display. Like Veles, he also had horns, except whereas Veles’s horns curved gently back from his head, Berstuk’s were curled like a ram’s. But it was Berstuk’s face with its arresting harsh lines and planes that drew my attention, in particular the cruel curl to his lips as if he was mulling over a particularly vile plan. He walked to the edge of the river, and the moonlight fully illuminated his lower half—his very hairy goat legs. My gasp was too loud, drawing his attention from Veles to me, and Berstuk’s eerie emerald eyes sparked with interest.

  “Oh, Veles, have you brought me an offering?” Berstuk drawled. “A homage for safe passage through my lands. Or maybe a gift to apologize for hunting in my terrain without my express permission.” He canted his head, closed his eyes, and inhaled. His lips curled in amusement. “You think marking her makes her yours?” His eyes snapped open, and his face contorted in anger. “Mine,” he said. “Mine, unless I say otherwise. Now bring her to me.”

  “Fuck you, Berstuk,” Veles said. “Let Narina go.”

  “Trade with me.” Berstuk’s eyes were s
till on me, running across my face, sending a tingle through me.

  “No,” Veles said.

  A tree branch whipped down to impale Narina. Her scream was a raw, primal sound that grasped at my intestines and twisted painfully. The branch withdrew slowly as she sobbed and quaked, black blood bubbling from her pretty mouth. The wound had barely knit together when another branch tore it open again.

  “Trade me,” Berstuk said calmly. He licked his lips. “I hear Yav-born flesh is sweet and tender. I wish to taste it. I wish to bury my cock inside it and then swallow its moans with my teeth.”

  Ice teased my veins. But no, Veles wouldn’t hand me over. He wouldn’t, would he?

  Narina screamed again and Veles’s shoulders tensed. “Stop, damn you.”

  “Trade, Veles. You know how it works. You’ve marked your prey, so I can’t just claim her. A pathetic rule, but still, you must give her to me willingly.”

  “Veles … please …” Narina pleaded.

  Veles bowed his head, shoulders rising and falling in agitation. “Do you give your word that you will leave Narina be from this day forth. That you will not hunt her or capture her, that you will allow her free passage.”

  Berstuk licked his lips. “You ask much, Veles, and before I agree you must give me a taste of your tender bounty. I will decide if your terms are acceptable.”

  “What?” I looked from Veles to Berstuk, heart lurching. “Wait, no.”

  Veles stared at me without emotion, and then he grabbed my arm and pulled me against him. “Blood only,” Veles said.

  Berstuk smiled. “Blood only.”

  Was this really happening? Was he going to trade me? Berstuk advanced and my breath rushed out of my lungs. “No!”

  I tried to tug free, twisting and bucking, but Veles held me firm.

  “Hush …” His lips were against my ear.

  His tone was soothing, as if calming a frightened animal, because that’s what I was to them—an animal. Cattle to be traded. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks and rage burned my chest, but I was nothing compared to his strength. There was nothing to do but watch Berstuk walk on water to get to us.

  “Please, don’t do this to me.” I hated that I was begging, but the desire to live was too much.

  In response, he pressed a kiss to my neck. My body froze, rigid, as his canines pressed against my jugular.

  “No … Veles ...”

  Pain sliced through me as he made the puncture wounds, his chest pressed to my back, arms wrapped tight around me. He sucked, sending fire racing through me. My scream emerged as a whimper, and then a shadow fell over us.

  “Oh, why thank you,” Berstuk said. He was holding up an index finger tipped with a lethal-looking silver talon. “I do hate getting my hands dirty.”

  Veles’s lips left my skin, but he didn’t release me. In fact, his grip on me tightened a fraction.

  Berstuk stared down into my face and then his mouth turned down in mock sympathy. “Oh, why so sad? Do you not know who I am?”

  His mocking tone, his obvious disregard for my life, sent a blaze of rage shooting through me.

  “I know who you are. You’re a fucking goat with a man’s head.” The words were out before I could think, and he flinched as if I’d slapped him.

  Someone chuckled. Narina?

  But the humor had evaporated from Berstuk’s face. I’d obviously hit a nerve, and fuck it, if I was going to die, then I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  “Well, come on, goat man, get it over with.”

  His lip curled now, but his eyes sparked with evil intent. “I accept your trade, Veles.”

  Veles’s grip on me tightened. “But … you haven’t tasted her.”

  “I don’t need to.” His smile promised pain. “Take Narina and leave. I have a new toy to play with.”

  His hand tangled in my hair, and he yanked me from Veles’s grip. I swallowed my yelp of pain, glaring daggers at him.

  “You accept my terms?” Veles asked.

  “I accept your fucking terms, now get out of my forest.”

  The shackles on Narina unwound, and she lay trembling on the rock. Veles strode into the river and plucked her from the stone. He didn’t look back as he walked away with her, and something inside me twisted and broke. Crazy, I’d barely known him a handful of hours, so why did this feel like such a betrayal?

  “Well,” Berstuk said, leaning in close. “It’s just you and me now. How much fun we shall have.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Veles

  As my feet fly across the forest floor, Wynter’s pleas and the betrayal on her face tear at me, gnawing away at the deepest core of me. In my embrace, Narina is already regaining her strength. Her arms tighten around my neck, reminding me of an early time, a time when we would lay entwined and sated. A time when I vowed to come back to her.

  “Just beyond those trees,” she says. “Just a little farther.”

  I pick up speed, rushing, weaving, and leaping to get her to the glade, a place untouched by Berstuk’s influence. A place where her body will heal completely. Obsidian trees morph to dark green and gray, and the air is suddenly cleaner and sweeter; the sharp electric tang associated with Berstuk’s domain is gone.

  “Put me down, please.”

  I lay Narina on the soft green grass, and her eyes flutter closed.

  “Thank you. Thank you for saving me.”

  Yes, I have saved her. I clench my jaw so hard that my teeth ache. There was no choice, I remind myself of this. A Yav-born I met a mere handful of hours ago is no comparison to the friendship and love that Narina and I have shared. The friendship I’d forgotten through no fault of my own.

  Nawia often takes memories, Nawia often creates distance between past and present, but seeing Narina has pulled those memories from the dark depths of my mind. It has reminded me of a different home, one that I left, promising to return to much too long ago. There was no choice. Not really.

  Narina sits up, her bark-like skin knitting so the cracks and knots that have formed under Berstuk’s assault smooth out. Yes, she is healing.

  Around us, shadows shift as her kin detach themselves from the trees and venture into the glade.

  She will be all right. She will live, and Berstuk will no longer be able to claim her. I have seen to that with my trade.

  Wynter’s frightened face flashes before my eyes, and I take a step away from Narina.

  “Veles? What is wrong?”

  “I can’t ... I can’t let him have her.”

  Narina frowns. “The Yav-born?” She shakes her head in confusion. “But she is just meat?”

  “No. I think ... I think she is much more than that.”

  I turn and sprint back into the obsidian forest.

  Chapter Twelve

  He’d left me. He’d walked away and death was staring me in the face, its emerald eyes gleaming with wicked intent.

  He pressed the tip of his index finger, that lethal-sharp talon, to my throat. His nostrils flared, mouth parting to reveal even, white teeth.

  “If you’re going to kill me, then get it over with.” Anger at the injustice, at this whole situation, had numbed my sense of self-preservation. Besides, pleading and begging would get me nowhere. He was a monster. He wanted to kill me, he wanted to … eat me. Oh, God. Fear surged up to grasp at the anger, to pull it down and take its place. No. No. I wouldn’t give in to fear.

  I lifted my chin and pressed myself against the talon, unflinching at the bite as it sliced my flesh. The tickle of blood trickling down my neck almost undid me. He inhaled sharply, attention dropping to my neck.

  I swallowed the lump of terror in my throat. “I won’t be afraid of you.”

  His eyes narrowed to slits as he scanned my face. “No. I believe that you won’t.” His tone was suddenly soft, catching me off guard. “What is it like?”

  “What?”

  “Yav? The land of the mortals, what is it like?”

  Seriously? What was this?
Was he trying to trick me into lowering my defenses? My anger was slipping, sinking beneath the confusion, but there was no mocking to his tone. He was watching me intensely, waiting.

  “Tell me,” he pressed.

  “It’s bright, and colorful, and it’s …” My eyes pricked as I recalled my home, the fresh, clean breeze, the dazzling sun, Dad and Pat and Finn and safety. How could I have thought death would be better? How could I have taken life for granted?

  He’d gone very still, his face frozen too close to mine, peppermint breath teasing my nostrils. “Yesss … color … heat … Tell me.”

  “There are taverns and ale and apple pie, there is dancing and joy and … There is life.” My voice cracked.

  His hand cupped the base of my neck. “It’s in your blood, throbbing and writhing. Life runs through you, echoes in your beating heart. He marked you, but he did not claim you.” His nose brushed my cheek, and every atom of me tightened in apprehension.

  “Your innocence, the life pumping in your veins, it’s … intoxicating.” He pulled back, a strange emotion flitting across his cruel face. His grip on my neck tightened, cutting off my breath, forcing heat to gather behind my eyes and panic to flood my chest. Death, this was my death.

  And then I was free, gasping for breath, my hands clawing at my throat where his hand had left a hot imprint on my skin.

  “Go,” he said.

  What?

  He turned away with a small smirk on his face.

  Was this a trick? I took a tentative step away from him.

  “Don’t dally, Yav-born, my moods are mercurial. Leave before the tide turns.”

  It was most likely a ploy, a set-up to a chase, but if there was the slightest chance this was real, that there was a possibility of escape, then I had to take it. I spun on my heel and ran.

  Laughter followed me, brushing the nape of my neck with a malevolent chill, and then I was whipping past the slender trees, branches brushing my shoulders as if urging me on, terror an expanding bubble in my chest. Faster, faster. Was he behind me? Was I going the right way?

 

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