The Lost Daughter: Hells Hallow Book One

by Bo Reid

  “You’re a dragon,” I state.

  A small smile curves his lips and he gives a slight nod. “Indeed, I am, and I do not leave the Gehenna Cliffs all too often these days, and I'm afraid the flight has since worn me out. So, may I come in?”

  “You’re Ernesh’s grandfather, aren’t you?” I ask as I bring my hand over the barrier and open a doorway.

  “Amos, Amos Dreki,” he says, his tone gentle but full of power as he slips his hand into mine to greet me.

  “Tanda Morass, but I suppose you knew that already,” I say. He chuckles softly as the barrier closes behind him. “Indeed, I did.”

  “So what can I do for you Mr. Dreki?” I ask, walking back over to my spot on the grass. I’m seated in the middle of the back yard, with the large headstones in the distance. The carvings are gone; I hid them once again, they’re words I do not want to share with others just yet. I should though. Their life and sacrifice should be known, but I’m not ready just yet.

  He lets out a light laugh and when I look over, I see him eyeing Cerberus and Hex with a small smile on his face before he turns and takes a seat next to me on the blanket I have laid out on the grass. “Is that from him?” he asks, nodding his head towards my father's journal.

  I run my hand over the cover. “Yes,” I say softly.

  “He was a good man, powerful, dark, but inherently good,” he tells me.

  I chuckle. “How is that possible?” I ask.

  “Do you know how long dragons live, Tanda?” he asks, and I shake my head. “A few hundred years typically. I have had the pleasure of being on this cursed ground for the last twelve-hundred years, which if your parents were still around, would still make me a youngster compared to them.”

  At that, I smile.

  “Which means I knew your parents for most of my life, and there are still days that I can't believe they are gone. When everything started to happen, they were the first to realize it was much bigger than Hells Hallow. They instantly started to work out what was happening, trying to get help. Trying to make plans. At the time, I was no longer on the council, my son was, and he was not the man or the leader I thought he would be. He was…” he trails off, looking out into the distance. “Well, for lack of a better word, a bloody disappointment.”

  I can’t help but snort my laughter, and Amos smiles at me.

  “The main reason we get our bad reputation is due to our selfish nature; that goes for all dark beings. That is the main difference between the good ones, and the bad ones. Good is selfless, sacrificing themselves for the greater balance of good and evil. Evil is selfish, always putting ourselves first. The world needs evil; it needs that darkness, but everything has to balance out. Your parents, and your coven made the greatest sacrifice I have ever seen. They sacrificed their very lives for yours, and while what they did was what was needed to move the world forward, they, in turn, threw the balance of good and evil off.”

  “So, what you’re saying is, they saved everything, but also set into motion actions that, if not corrected, will still ruin everything,” I say.

  He gives me a grave nod.

  “So how do I correct things?” I ask.

  “Doing what evil does best, be selfish.”

  I laugh. “Oh, Amos, I am always selfish.”

  He shakes his head. “No, my dear, you are not. You are trying to do whatever you need to do to finish what they started. It’s what you need to do, but you’ve lost your nature along the way. You are a Morass witch, and you don’t ask for what you want. You take what you need. Be selfish, my dear, the world needs you to be.”

  We sit in silence, staring around the yard at the headstones that mark the graves of my parents.

  “Take what I need?” I muse, looking over at Amos, and he smiles.

  “Take what you need.”

  Twenty-Five Years Ago

  “What do you mean the child is missing?” he growls.

  “I’m sorry, Sir, they have hidden her. She is no longer in Hells Hallow, and—”

  “And, what!” he demands.

  “They’re… dying.”

  “What!” he slams his fists down onto the table. “They wouldn’t,” he growls.

  He paces around the room, running his hands through his hair and pulling at the ends. He mutters curses under his breath; the rage that he feels is suffocating inside the small room. He begins to slam his fists against the wall, over and over again. Yelling and growling as his fists connect with the cement, causing pieces to crumble to the ground. He pauses from his rage-induced tantrum, slowly turning to face his right hand man.

  “What do we do now?”

  “We wait,” he grits, calmly adjusting his suit jacket, and taking a seat in his large leather chair.

  “Wait for what?”

  “For her to come home; there is nothing we can do if she is lost.” He grabs a pen, and starts making notes on a page in front of him.

  “How do you know she’ll come back?” he asks tentatively.

  “They left her with no choice,” he says in a chipper tone. “We just have to wait for her to figure that out.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ajal

  I stomp through the forest on my way back to the dens, anger coursing through me as I reach out and rip the leaves from the trees, tossing them on the ground. How dare she? How dare she just walk into town, cause havoc, and then drop that fucking bomb?

  How dare she breeze into my fucking life, looking like a treat good enough to eat. How dare she pull me in with her perfect pouty lips that curve into a wicked smirk. The way she bites on her bottom lip, making me want to do the same.

  How dare she smell like the perfect combination of the trees surrounding my den, and flowers on a sunny spring day.

  The fucking nerve of her to call to me, to bring something in me to the surface that’s never been activated before. She’s the fucking worst.

  Yet I can barely control myself around her.

  “Hey,” I hear Cora’s sweet voice sing to me as I enter the den, and for the first time, her sugar sweet tone grates on my every nerve.

  “Hey,” I growl, my tone taking on a harsh vibe not meant for her. She flinches back at my voice. “Sorry,” I say softly, getting a hold on my anger.

  “Meeting didn’t go well?” she asks.

  “Not the best one, that’s for sure,” I grumble, and she walks over towards me. Running her hands along my arms, and across my chest, she presses her body close to mine.

  “Anything I can do to help you relax?” she purrs as she looks up at me through her thick lashes.

  I reach out, gripping her wrists and pushing her back from me slightly. “I just want to be alone for a while,” I tell her.

  She huffs, taking a step back from me and crossing her arms over her chest. “What is wrong with you lately?” she growls.

  “Nothing,” I tell her, crossing my arms to mimic her stance.

  “Bullshit, you haven’t been yourself for the last four days, not since that fucking lightning show,” she grits.

  “And how have I not been myself?” I question her.

  “For starters, you haven’t touched me in over a week, and you’ve barely even glanced my way.” She raises one eyebrow in question, daring me to deny what she is saying.

  “I’ve been busy,” I grit. “You think it’s easy trying to keep everything together around here?”

  “That’s just it, Ajal, normally when you’re fucking stressed out and the guys are pissing you off, you’re balls deep inside me, constantly wrecking my uterus. But this week, it’s like I’m a pariah to you,” she yells, throwing her hands up in the air. “Fifteen years, Ajal, I’ve been by your side for fifteen fucking years, and I know your every move. The you that has been around the last week is not the Ajal I know,” she grits. Turning around and reaching behind the small couch, she pulls a duffle bag out.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “To my parents until you figure your shit out,” she say
s, walking past me. I reach out and grip her arm as she tries to pass me.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask her softly. “Fifteen years, Cora, I’ve never been perfect and neither have you, but you’ve never walked out on me. Why now?”

  “Because in fifteen years, I’ve put up with a lot; your late nights, your prior commitments, and the knowledge that you didn’t pick me. I’ve put up with it all, and I know I haven’t been perfect either, but for the first time in all these years, I can sense the shift in you. I’ve never had your love, I get that, but I’ve always had your loyalty. For the first time since we were matched, I feel like I no longer have that. I’ll be a lot of things, Ajal, but I won’t be your doormat,” she whispers, pulling her arm free of my grip and walking out of the den we have shared together for the last five years.

  I close my eyes and shake my head, moving around to slump onto the couch. I groan and let my head fall back onto the cushion.

  How has so much changed, so much fallen apart in less than a fucking week? She walked into this town and nothing has been the same since. Hell only knows what damage she could do if we gave her a whole fucking month. I let visions of her flash across my mind, her purple hair as it falls over her bare shoulder. Her eyes glowing that beautiful, vibrant hue. I run my large palm up over my thigh, imagining her weight on top of me as my cock twitches in my pants. I picture her sitting on top of me, reaching out to grip her round ass and moving her to rub her cunt along my cock. I imagine what it would sound like to hear her moaning as she rotates her hips.

  I unbutton my pants, moving my hand to grip my thick cock. I stroke myself up and down, groaning as I imagine sinking my claws into her soft flesh. I rub my dick faster, gripping myself tighter as I picture sucking on her breasts, letting my tongue ghost over her nipples. I picture how the weight of her breasts would feel in my hands.

  I moan, biting my lip as I feel my balls tighten and I cum harder than I have in years. I sigh, sinking deeper into the couch as I shove my dick back into my pants. I should feel better but all I feel is anger. Mad that just thoughts of her made me do that. Mad that Cora walked out. Mad that Tanda is in this fucking town.

  Mostly pissed the fuck off that now, I know where she lives and the fact that it’s really not that fucking far from here. If I went outside and focused, I bet I could actually smell her. Instead, I get up and stalk into the bathroom, stripping out of my clothing as I go. I turn on the shower and step inside, letting the cold water hit my skin before it warms up.

  As it does, I work the soap over my body, feeling my hand run over my cock again and groan when I feel myself twitch back to life. Pissing me off to no end because all I want to do is drive my cock into Tanda and fuck her out of my system. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

  If I don’t lie to myself, I know the truth is yes, I do want to fuck her, but I also want to wrap my arms around her, pull her into my chest and sleep with my body wrapped around hers. I want to lay her down in front of her fireplace, and lick her pussy as she moans my name as the flames dance across her skin.

  Most of all, I just want her. I want to hold her, and kiss her, fuck her, and love her. I want her to want me.

  I want her to love me.

  Early the following morning, I get up and decide to take a run through the woods; no, not my usual trail that runs through the Pitch Forest. Instead, when I step out of my den, I turn left and run for the line of thick trees that make up the start of the Forbidden Forest. I run along the river that leads into the Lost Soul Lake. I cross the river and stick to the side that I know Tanda’s cabin doesn’t sit on, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to peer through the trees and find it.

  Before I know it, I’m drenched in sweat and standing on the edge of the Lost Soul Lake.

  I’ve never been here before — not in my human form at least. My werewolf is drawn to the screams of agony and the cries of sorrow that emanate from these waters. He often leads me here under the light of a full moon just to sit on the bank and absorb the pain; it soothes me. I hear a branch snap, and I turn my head towards the sound and, to my surprise, it isn't an animal that stands on the other side of the small river, but Tanda.

  “Sorry, didn’t know anyone was here,” she says. “I’ll go.” She turns around and starts to walk away and something inside of me gravitates towards her.

  “Wait!” I call, taking a running start and managing to barely jump over the small river that was separating us.

  She stops and turns around, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at me. “Yes?”

  “Look, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I was an asshole, and I didn’t mean it,” I tell her.

  “Yes, you did,” she says, challenging me to deny her by raising one eyebrow at me. “But it’s fine, I get it. Trust me, I understand more than you think I do.” She sighs. “I’ll catch you later,” she says, turning and again walking away from me but something inside of me can't let her go.

  I reach out, barely grabbing her arm, not enough to truly force her to stay but enough that she’ll understand I don’t want her to leave yet. I hope. She turns and glances at me over her shoulder, waiting for me to speak.

  “Tell me?” I ask her softly, my voice barely loud enough to be heard over the lake.

  “Tell you what?” she asks.

  “Anything.”

  “Do you want something to eat? I was heading back to make breakfast,” she says and nods her head in the direction of her cabin.

  “Sure,” I say, giving her a small smile.

  We walk back through the forest in silence and it isn’t very long before we make it to her cabin. She creates a small doorway in the barrier, and I have to duck my head to enter. Then she closes it and leads me through the back door.

  I watch her walk into the kitchen, my eyes following her ass in her tight pants. She sets down a basket full of herbs and other plants from the forest, and if I didn’t know any better, I would guess those were harmless. But I do know better and the truth is, she could probably kill me with a simple herb and, oh, I don’t know, make it look like an accident.

  Hell, she could probably figure a way to blame it on my already pissed off mate.

  “Do you like omelettes?” she asks as she grabs a pan.

  “Sure, I’ll eat just about anything,” I tell her, while thinking of something else I could eat of hers that I don’t think is currently on the menu. I watch as she walks over to the fridge I hadn’t noticed the other day, bending to pull out a basket of eggs. And yes, I’m staring at her ass.

  I watch, pretty impressed, because she uses magic to do everything at once. There is a knife dicing mushrooms, a whisk beating the eggs in a bowl. Her fire is heating up the pan, and the cheese is grating itself. All while she makes coffee.

  “That must make housekeeping pretty quick,” I say, nodding as her kitchen makes us breakfast all on its own — well with a magical assist.

  “Yeah, it’s not all bad I suppose. So, you had questions?” she asks.

  “Yes, and no. I don’t know. I guess I just feel lost in all of this.”

  She snorts. “You’re not the only one. I don’t have an instruction manual here, Ajal, at least not one that’s very useful. What I have are a bunch of half-ass records that don’t line up territory to territory. Journals that contradict each other. And a sense of a game plan that often feels like it was written in a foreign language,” she says as she passes me a mug of coffee.

  “It’s a lot easier for me if you just ask the things you want to know. I’ll answer as best I can. And honestly,” she says, motioning for me to start.

  “When did you find out about all this?” I ask.

  “I was eighteen, my powers were already more than they should have been. On my eighteenth birthday the rest of the demonic powers arrived to the party,” she says, taking a sip of her coffee and eyeing me.

  “Where were you, before, I mean.”

  “Coven Warren.”

  I nod. “Where did you
go after you got your powers? You said yesterday they sent you away,” I ask. I watch as sadness fills her features but she pushes it away, and I think that’s the first time I realized that she not only lost her coven because of all this. She also lost another coven; she has lost two families, yet she’s still fighting.

  “Deimos Clay, he was a friend to my parents, they trusted him to teach me how to control my powers. He found me almost immediately after the Warren’s kicked me out. We’ve spent the last seven years trying to figure out my powers and the mess everyone left behind.”

  “Why isn’t he here?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “It’s not his fight.”

  “It’s not ours either,” he says.

  She gives me a small smile. “We were born into this war; if we don’t fight it, who will?”

  I slowly nod my head, a sliver of realization sinking in. “Did you have someone? Before all of this?”

  “You mean like you have?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.

  “Sure, or just anyone,” I ask. “A friend,” I offer.

  “I had someone, his name was Michael, Michael Warren, and he was my best friend,” she says softly as she looks down into her mug. “We grew up together, at the coven hall, and he was always willing to get into a little trouble with me here and there. I wasn’t the most well behaved child, if you can imagine that,” she chuckles softly. Offering up a piece of herself to me.

  “But, when these powers came in,” she holds up her hand and lets the lightning dance across her fingers, “he got scared. We both knew they were demonic powers; white witches can’t have them. I had to talk to the coven elder and he took that moment to give me a history lesson, and promptly kick me out onto my ass.”

  “Did you get to say goodbye? To Michael?” I ask.

  She nods her head. “He saw me as I came out of the main hall, caught me before I could leave.”

  “You didn’t plan on telling him?” I press; that would have pissed me off to no end, my girl just walking away.