Blindly Indicted

by Katie May

The tip of my finger grazes her soaked panties, and both of us moan. She’s so ready for me, so wet.

  My perfect, beautiful goddess.

  I don’t bother teasing her. Instead, I shove her panties to the side and stick one finger into her slick hole. She tenses, muscles as taut as a rubber band, and I instantly freeze.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I ask, immediately removing my hand. Her own leaves my head to wrap around my wrist, holding me in place.

  “No,” she whimpers. “I know it’s you, and I know you’ll never hurt me. It’s just...” I wait for her thoughts to formulate, acid churning in my stomach like a whirlpool.

  “At the Compound, did someone hurt you?” I whisper, and I don’t mean the torture I already know about. She’s silent for a moment, body shaking, before she gives a barely perceptible nod of her head.

  Anger threatens to turn my vision red. A tsunami of rage crashes over me.

  “Bron, please. Come back to me. Please. Make me feel good.” She guides my finger back to her slit. “Make me forget.”

  I press my lips back to hers, kissing her with a primal, almost animalistic, need. Her body responds in kind as her tongue tangles with my own.

  My thumb brushes over her clit as my fingers begin to scissor in her slick channel, and she gasps into my mouth.

  “Come for me, Goddess,” I whisper against her lips as I press down on the sensitive nub. Tears spill from her eyes as she moans, riding out her pleasure on my still moving fingers. Her white eyes hold mine, trusting me to catch her as she falls.

  “Bron...” she sighs, pressing a kiss to my sweaty neck. “Let me take care of you.”

  “No, my love. This was about you.” I pull her off the chair and into my lap. Her breasts are still bared to me, tiny marks from my teeth marring the porcelain skin. “You’re my queen, my goddess, my life. I’ll always take care of you.”

  She rests her head against my shoulder with a contented sigh.

  For the longest time, I believed I had died and gone to hell. My sister was dead, my mother was depressed, and I was in prison.

  But now, with my beautiful mate in my arms, I think I have died and gone to heaven. Currents of happiness spiral through my mind as I kiss the crown of her head.

  No one is going to take her away from me. I’ll kill anyone who even tries.

  Chapter 28

  Nina

  Bronson feels warm. Safe.

  With his arms around me, all thoughts fade away until all I can focus on is him. His familiar, comforting scent surrounds me, consumes me. I have the irresistible urge to press my face into his neck and breathe him in.

  My body still tingles through the aftershocks of pleasure. It had come out of nowhere, crashing over me like a tidal wave. I had felt myself reach the peak of the cliff, but I knew that Bronson would be there to catch me as I fell.

  I thought I was too tainted to enjoy such pleasures. I have heard other women ranting and raving about their sexual experiences, but I never even dared to hope. To be intimate with someone you care for, someone you genuinely want in your life, is an indescribable feeling. My heart feels weightless, as if it has suddenly sprouted wings and taken flight in my chest.

  My emotions confuse me, unnerve me. Rattle me, in a way, until I’m unrecognizable. Give me the dark any darn day. I know those demons, this taint on my soul. It’s the light that frightens me, petrifies me. It brings me to my knees until I’m a simpering fool. No, allow me to live in the dark, an oblivion I understand, instead of forcing me into the sun.

  “You’re quiet,” Bronson whispers against my head. His large hand is stroking my freshly curled hair as his lips pepper kisses to my scalp. “You don’t regret—”

  “No,” I answer immediately. My heart hammers in my chest, but it’s a good pound. An elated one. Emotions surge through me, and I struggle to grasp just one in particular. “No, not at all. It felt...amazing.”

  More than amazing, actually, but I swear if my cheeks get any hotter I’ll have to go to the hospital. There’s a pain between my thighs, but it’s a good one—completely different from the first time I had been touched there.

  “That’s all I want for you.” Bronson kisses my forehead.

  We sit in silence for a minute, but it’s not awkward. His presence, his arms around me, and his rhythmic breathing are all comforting.

  “Are you sore?” he asks at last.

  “A little,” I admit, rubbing my thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the ache. “But it’s not too bad.”

  “Goddess,” he begins in his grumbly voice, and fireworks shoot through my body—as they always do—at the nickname. I’m many things, but a goddess is most definitely not one of them. “You know I’m a shadow wolf.”

  When he doesn’t say anything immediately, I nod my head slowly, hesitantly. “Yeah?”

  “Wolves can be either solitary creatures, or they can move in packs, you understand?” He seems almost uneasy, unsure. I place my hand over his hand still resting on my breast. My touch seems to ground him, and he takes a steadying breath. “My wolf has...for lack of a better word...claimed you as his mate.” My breath leaves me in a swooping burst, but he continues before I can cut in. “But he has also claimed a bunch of the assholes here as part of his pack, understand?”

  No, not at all.

  Bronson’s wolf has claimed me as his...mate? What does that mean? Did Bronson claim me as well? Did he even have a choice in this matter? Oh god. Is that why he...pleasured me? Because of his wolf?

  My thoughts are running rampant, left unattended, and Bronson easily picks up on my unease. He places a hand beneath my chin and tilts my face up. Soft, luscious lips press against my own. One would think that they would be hard and chapped from years in this prison, but they’re surprisingly smooth.

  “I’m your mate?” I whisper, and my heart thunders in both elation and trepidation. The juxtaposed emotions give me a blinding headache.

  “Not yet,” he replies. Crippling disappointment surges through me, but I mask it quickly. “If I were to bite you...” He trails off. “What I’m saying is: what we did solidified the bond for me. We may not be officially mated, but I want you. I always have, and I always will. But my wolf will not be angry if you decide to also pursue relationships with other members of our pack. Only our pack. Do you understand?” Kai’s face immediately flashes to mind followed closely by Abel’s and Damien’s. Even Cain’s comes to the forefront before I push it back.

  “Okay,” I whisper. I don’t know what else to say. This—all of this—is decidedly not normal. I need time to process all of the information I’ve been given. Bronson has murdered a man, for one, and though the death was deserved, I can’t ignore the tiny voice in my head screaming profanities at me for trusting him. I know that not everything is black and white, light and dark, but it would be so much easier if you could separate everything and everyone into individual boxes. Unfortunately, that’s not how the world works. You can’t judge a man based on one past accident any more than you can judge someone for saving your life in the future. There’s a delicate balance between good and evil, right and wrong, and I’m currently toeing that blurred line.

  “We should get back to the others,” Bronson says, moving me off his lap and kneeling before me. His hands tenderly rearrange my dress around my breasts before he helps me to my feet. He treats me as if I’m delicate and fragile. I never had anyone besides Kai treat me like that before. Though the sensation is unusual, it’s one I could definitely get used to.

  Bronson leaves the table and food behind, taking my hand in his own. I marvel at how big his palm feels—it swallows mine up whole. Still, there’s no denying the innate sense of rightness as we walk down the hall.

  His hand belongs in mine.

  “Shit,” Bronson curses suddenly, tugging me to a stop.

  “What?” I drop into his head to get a sense of our surroundings. We’re somewhere in the middle of the Labyrinth. In every direction, I see stone walls, rust
y lead pipes, and shards of rock.

  “I think I took a wrong turn.” He sounds hesitant, unsure, as he leads me back in the direction we came from. Water rushes above us from one of the pipes. Urine, blood, and dust barrage me the longer we walk. After taking a few more turns, we end up in the exact same place we were originally.

  “We’re lost,” I point out unhelpfully, and Bronson grunts.

  “We’re not lost.”

  “Yes, we are.” Tugging on our combined hands, I use them to point at one of the rocks protruding from the wall. “Look at that rock. We passed it two times already.”

  Every muscle in Bronson’s body goes rigid. At first, I’m confused, wondering if he senses something I don’t. As my wits gradually return to me, I realize my mistake instantly.

  “Nina,” Bronson asks slowly, carefully. He turns his head until I fill up his entire vision. “How can you see the rock?”

  I open my mouth, close it, and then open it again. A thousand excuses pop into my head, but I know I can’t lie to him. Not after he has been so honest with me.

  I open my mouth to confess everything—Kai’s wishes be damned—when Bronson suddenly grabs my shoulder and pushes me behind him. I stumble, pressing a palm against the wall to steady myself, as claws extend from the tips of Bronson’s fingers.

  From this angle, I’m unable to see myself, but I do see the figures approach us on silent feet.

  Five men and one female, all with an elegant, predatory grace. The men are tall and muscular, the ridges of their muscles visible through the thin shirts they wear. The woman doesn’t even reach the men’s shoulders, and her body is slim and almost delicate. Her elfin face peers first at Bronson and then at me.

  “Shifters.” Bronson’s voice is unrecognizable. Throaty, almost guttural, as if he’s speaking around a mouthful of abnormally sharp teeth.

  “I’m surprised Blade let you off your leash,” the woman says with a lilting laugh. Bronson growls threateningly but does not rise to her taunt. “Anyway, we’re not here for a fight. You have someone we want. Give us back our leader, and we’ll let you live.” This is all said with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders as if she couldn’t give a crap either way.

  “Mr. Scruffles?” I break in, and Bronson immediately pushes me further behind him, shielding me completely with his large, muscular body.

  “Who the fuck is Mr. Scruffles?” the woman questions, glancing at her companions. “Have you guys heard of him?” Turning back toward me, her voice turns mocking. “Little girl, run as fast and far as you can. We don’t play well with Blade’s bitches. I think he needs to be taught a lesson.”

  “Run!” Bronson roars.

  A flash of light illuminates Bronson’s vision a moment before he shifts. The transition is so effortless that if I were to blink, I would’ve missed it. One second a man is standing in front of me, and the next he’s lower to the ground as his wolf breaks free. Without delay, the wolf rears back on his hind legs and pounces.

  I remain against the wall, stricken, as I watch his teeth cut through skin and bone. The vision provides me a vivid image of every gruesome detail—the sharp incisors breaking through skin and tendons, the gushing of blood, the open mouth as the man screams for mercy.

  A white light shines directly in my eyes—Bronson’s eyes—as one of the men pulls out a flashlight.

  Distantly, I remember Bronson telling me that his wolf can only come out in the shadows.

  With the spotlight on him, Bronson falls to the ground, his vision changing once more as he returns to his human form.

  “Nina,” he growls, crawling to his hands and knees. His gaze is intent on the man holding him hostage in the flashlight’s thin beam. “Run.”

  And I run.

  I pull out of Bronson’s head as I run through the twisting cement halls. I pull my dress up so I don’t step on the train and race around the corner, only to run face-first into a wall.

  Wincing at the pain, I press one hand to my forehead and the other to the cold, wet wall. Using it for guidance, I continue to venture forward.

  Come on, Nina. Come on.

  My ankles throb as I stumble over loose rocks, but still I charge forward. For Bronson.

  God, is he okay? Please, please tell me he’s okay.

  I left him.

  I. Left. Him.

  Tears flood my eyes, but I don’t allow them to deter me. I need to keep moving; I need to find help. With a purpose in mind, I tentatively venture farther down the Labyrinth’s halls.

  “Going somewhere?” a cold voice murmurs in my ear. I spin on my heel, throwing a punch at the intruder’s throat. Before my fist can make contact, the girl grabs my wrist and gives it a twist. A cracking sound reverberates throughout the hall, and I scream. “Blade is going to pay for taking our leader,” she hisses, spit flying into my face. “I hope you have a good stomach for torture, little girl.”

  I only have a second to pray that Bronson made it out alive before a fist connects with my face.

  Darkness claims me.

  Chapter 29

  Kai

  Lionel Green is an unassuming, ugly man.

  I stare at the picture of him with narrowed eyes, unable to decipher whether or not he is capable of committing such an atrocious act against Raphael Turner.

  Large and pudgy, with red cheeks and greasy hair, there’s nothing about Lionel that makes me think he’s powerful enough to kill a centuries-old vampire. Sure, he’s a shifter, but is an animal really capable of beating a vampire in a fight?

  Sighing, I hand the picture back to Maverick.

  “Any other news?” I query, leaning back in my chair. The cafeteria is empty at this time of day. No surprise. The second I arrived to hold court, the others scattered like their asses had been shot with my dragon fire.

  “Damien has received a shipment of food and clothes from above,” Maverick recites. I nod seriously. I knew Damien had planned to get more supplies for our gang, particularly Nina, from some of his contacts.

  “Any shifter attacks?” My hands clenched into fists as I think of the vile, vicious gang. They’ve been silent, almost unnaturally so, which is especially strange since we have their leader tied up in our throne room.

  “Silent,” he says. “But there’s been three deaths since yesterday.”

  “What happened?” I ask, only half listening. Deaths were not uncommon in the Labyrinth. We lost both men and women every day. It’s sad, I suppose, but a necessity. There are checks and balances in every aspect of life. The strong thrive, and the weak succumb to their inevitable fate.

  Maverick tells me about the most recent brawl between a werewolf, vampire, and succubus. Both the werewolf and vampire were killed.

  Halfway through the story, my mind begins to wander. I can’t help but wonder how Bronson’s date with Nina is going.

  Should I be jealous? Upset? I admit, my emotions are turbulent. A part of me is thrilled that Nina is able to enjoy life after months of captivity, but another part of me is immensely jealous.

  Soon, I’ll be the one taking her out on ravishing dates. I don’t even care that other guys are as well; just as long as I’m one of them.

  Yeah. I’m pussy-whipped for this girl. My thoughts revolve around her like the earth circles the sun.

  “Anything else, sir?” Maverick's words wrench me out of my thoughts. Waving him away, he nods once before retreating, his metaphorical tail between his legs.

  I heave myself off the table I’ve been perching on, grab an apple from the magical buffet line, and then head in the direction of the throne room.

  Damien is currently with our resident shifter. Probably has his innards separated from his body by now.

  Snort.

  I have just turned at a fork in the tunnels when a pungent, coppery scent assaults me. My vision narrows, nostrils flaring, as I whip my head in the direction of the prominent smell.

  Air escapes my lungs in a swooping whoosh as terror fills me.

  Bronso
n places a bloody hand against the wall, stumbling forward. My eyes take only a second to catalog his injuries—bruises and scratches marring his face, torn sleeves, and a twisted ankle—before I’m lunging forward, gripping his shoulders. He hisses out air before facing me directly, eyes wide and wild with panic. Crazed. Feral.

  Hints of umber appear in his irises as his wolf shines through.

  “Where is she?” I ask slowly. Panic pulsates through my veins accompanied by a fury unlike anything I have ever felt before.

  “They took her,” he growls out, saliva dripping from his sharp canines.

  “Who? Who fucking took her?”

  I’ll rip whoever it is limb from limb until they’re nothing but a torso and head. Then, I’ll use my dragon fire to burn off their noses and eyes. I’ll leave their mouths, if only to hear their screams of agony.

  Bronson’s one-word answer causes shards of glass to swirl around in my stomach. “Shifters.”

  “Have any nines?”

  “This game is stupid.”

  “Any tens.”

  “Kai, seriously?” Nina asks, dropping her cards onto the musty cell floor. She stares up at me with blind, milky eyes. “You just like playing this game because you always win. It’s not fair. I can’t see what the heck I have!”

  I chuckle, dropping my own cards onto the floor. She’s not wrong. I do love playing this game, but for an entirely different reason. She always gets so flustered and angry, red splotches erupting on both of her cheeks, that I can’t help but smile.

  Playing Go Fish with a blind girl? I highly recommend it.

  Only cold metal bars separate us. I sit cross-legged on one side while she sits on the other. As always, she’s dressed in a flowing white gown with her black hair loose and wild. Staring at her, I feel something...different. It’s no longer just concern and protectiveness that courses through me. For the first time, my body is noticing all of her delicate, soft curves and heartbreakingly perfect features.