"No! You can't! You don't know what will happen if you take it off."
"So what do we do?"
"I don't know. I need to talk to my sisters."
"You are fucking useless," Sampson growled, pointing the scissors at her. He threw them into a dresser drawer and pushed past her to leave the cabin.
Grace stormed after him and followed him all the way into his own cabin. “What the fuck is your problem? Your pack chose to get involved with this shit. You voted to help after Cain was attacked. Your pack decided to set the trap. Your Alpha chose to bring this man back here. The only thing I fucking did was save everyone's ass when the plan went south!"
Sampson glowered at her. “If you hadn't used magic, you wouldn't have come here for protection and put the entire pack at risk. Heath wouldn't have been reckless and kidnapped a man. I told them one witch wasn't worth our whole pack, but you've managed to get them all eating out your goddamn hand by sucking every last wolf dick within ten miles."
"Are you jealous?" She flung the accusation at him as she stepped closer. “That’s what this is all about? Sampson, you don't get fucked by being an asshole."
"Sure about that? You’re such a fucking slut you'd climb on top of Fat Ass next door if he could get a hard-on!" He grabbed his own dick as he said that, and Grace realized he was hard. And he was a grower. Fuck. Her face flushed and she tensed. Adrenaline pumped through her veins.
"I'm only a slut because I haven't sucked your dick."
"You keep looking at it," he growled. "I bet your panties are fucking soaked."
"Yes, Sampson," Grace replied sarcastically. “Your cock is so magnificent, just looking at it drives me wild, I can't help myself." Grace was wet. Really wet. She sunk to her knees. “How could I have chosen other wolves over you?" she teased. “I'm sorry; clearly, I'm an idiot for passing on your fat cock."
She looked up at Sampson. His eyes were full of fire, but he didn't tell her to stop. What was she doing? Whatever the fuck she wanted.
And right now she wanted Sampson.
She took him into her mouth and slipped her tongue over the head of his dick, working her way down his length, until she had all she could take. She grasped a hand around the base and sucked his cock in long, slow strokes. She sighed as heat began to pool in her core.
Sampson groaned, "You're going to have to do more than that to be forgiven." He grabbed her hair forcing Grace to hold still. Then he thrust his hips forward, driving into Grace's mouth until her hand hit her lips.
Sampson pulled out and did it again, Grace moaned, her skin burned and pussy ached. Sampson slammed into her mouth again. “Fucking whore, who likes getting their face fucked?" He leaned back to let her answer.
"Me," she gasped, catching her breath. Grace wrapped her lips back around him again; her wet tongue toyed with his tip, lapping up his precum.
Sampson pulled her hair, and with no finesse, he buried himself in her mouth. He retreated and thrust into again. Grace moaned around his dick, heat building inside of her. She took her free hand and forced it down the front of her leggings.
She drew circles around her clit as Sampson drove into her mouth. Grace had never been fucked like this before, and she loved it.
Her head jerked back as Sampson pulled her mouth off of his cock. “Take your hand off your cunt and take off your clothes," Sampson growled, and he pulled at her shirt, dragging it over her head. "Bed."
Grace climbed on the bed as Sampson dug through a drawer. She laid down and spread her lips with one hand and rubbed her clit with the other.
"Stop touching yourself. Fucking slut can't even wait for a dick."
She tore her hands from her clit obediently, adrenaline rushing through her body. His face was stern, but his eyes glittered playfully.
Her heart raced, waiting to see what was next. This was something she’d never experienced before, and she loved it.
Sampson was holding a cock ring with a small bullet vibrator perched on top. He slid the ring up his shaft, then grabbed her calves and pulled her to the edge of the bed.
He threw her right leg on his shoulder, opened her hips and held her left thigh to the bed. He paused over her and leaned down to ease into her.
A silent cry escaped her lips as he buried his massive dick inside of her and stretched to take him. When he pushed into her, the vibrator pressed against her clit.
A moan tore from her throat, and he pulled back and slammed into her again.
Every time Sampson filled her, she rocked her hips forward, rubbing her clit against the vibrator. She became more insistent, pushing herself toward the edge.
"Come," he said driving into her.
Her heart raced, and the vibrator sent electrifying shocks through her nerve endings. It was too intense. She tried to pull away, but Sampson's hands held tight to her legs.
"Fucking whore-witch can't even follow one direction. Come!" he yelled.
Blood pounded in her ears. Sampson’s fingers dug into her flesh. His chest rumbled and he scolded her. But his eyes never left hers—a crack in his hate-fucking façade.
Grace actually fucking screamed as the waves of pleasure ripped through her body, holding his gaze. They shared that slice of bliss as Sampson slammed into her, finishing with her. His rumbles slowly turned into sated moans, and as he completed his final strokes, his face began to soften.
After catching his breath, Sampson lay next to Grace and kissed her. “My little whore-witch. Good girl."
Grace purred and melted into his arms.
CHAPTER TEN
GRACE
Grace heard the door open and looked up to watch the wolves file into the lodge. She was snuggled under a blanket with Sampson drinking a cup of coffee. The two had gotten dressed, cooked a meal together, and spent the rest of the day in a comfortable silence. Heath stopped in the doorway, and his eyebrows knitted together.
"Grace," Sampson whispered into her ear, his hand moving to cup her cunt. “I know you're sore. When you fuck him tonight, you won't be able to get me out of your head."
She moved against his hand. "What if I want you tonight?" she asked playfully.
"Are you going to show up to my cabin with his cum still dripping down your legs?" Sampson tightened his grip, rubbing the heel of his palm against her. This was not fair. Heat teased through her, and she rocked against his hand. Grace wanted to climb on top of him right now.
"Is that how you want me tonight?" she whispered.
Heath moved toward them, and Sampson just smirked as he pulled his hand away from her body and laid it on top of their blanket. Grace wasn't sure if she was thankful for Heath's interruption or irritated.
"What happened here?" he asked raising an eyebrow and pointing to the two of them.
Sampson shrugged. “Eight hours alone with me and she saw my charm."
Grace sat up, crossed her legs, and threw the blanket to the side. “How did your meeting go with Malcolm?"
"He doesn't know anything. We went back and forth a hundred times and he insisted that he knows nothing about the attacks."
"What about the kidnapped girls?" Grace asked.
Heath shook his head. “Nothing. I actually believe him about that. He wouldn't mess around with kidnapping humans. And I have no idea what his motivation would be."
"Wreak havoc on your new home?" she suggested.
"No. We just talked for six hours and I believe him. Cain came too, and he agrees with me. Malcolm isn't lying."
"You believe Malcolm that he doesn't have a vendetta against you and Cain?"
"I do," Heath answered. "He says that the whole pack runs smoother without us, without his wolves constantly undermining him. The wolves that are there want to be there. He has been hiring human crews, but I trust Malcolm, and he says he didn't hire the humans running around Wildwood."
Grace ran her hands through her hair. “Fuck. That means we’re still at square one."
"No, we aren't." Sampson leaned forward. “What about
the man's ankle curse?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Heath asked.
Grace had completely forgotten about the bracelet around Oscar's ankle. That morning felt like it could have been weeks ago. "Well, your guy had a curse put on him. Black magic. And it's probably very strong since there’s a physical component to the spell."
"What were you doing in cabin one?" Cain asked, his voice low and threatening.
Grace looked to Sampson, passing the question on to him.
"Your captive escaped," Sampson answered. "I don't know how. We discovered the cabin door open. The zip ties were broken, and he was gone. I tracked him through the woods, found him a few miles away, and brought him back. Grace came with me; I didn't want to leave her alone."
"Shit. What do we do about the curse?" Heath asked Grace.
She shook her head. “I don't even know where to start. I don't know fuck-all about dark magic. One of my sisters might."
"Let's get them all here then," Heath growled as he walked away.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
GRACE
Around dusk, Cain brought Eileen and Cara to the camp. The car had barely come to a stop when Cara hopped out of the back seat and stalked across the clearing toward Grace.
Meanwhile, Cain took his time walking around the car and opening the passenger door for her other sister, Eileen.
Cara rolled her eyes dramatically. Grace stifled a giggle. It was fucking stupid and tedious to wait for someone else to open a car door, but Grace expected nothing less from Cain.
Cain and Eileen had been seeing each other for less than a month and Eileen was on the fast track for taking the wolf as a mate. He was a domineering alpha wolf who expected Eileen to be submissive in and out of the bedroom. No, thank you. But Eileen was happy, and that's really all that mattered.
"Where's Brianna?" Grace asked, surprised they wouldn't bring their youngest sister.
"She was out." Cara shrugged. No one was concern when Brianna was gone; she was constantly disappearing for days at a time, but always came back home to check in with her sisters.
The group stopped outside the first cabin and Grace paused before opening the door. “You guys, he looks bad. Really fucking bad. Just a heads up."
The man was still tied up spread eagle on the bed. Someone had given him a sponge bath and, while he was no longer a bloody mess, every injury contrasted brightly against his paper-white flesh. Eileen gasped and Cara swore.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Cara turned to Heath. “You're an animal." She glared at her sisters. “You still want to run around with wolves when they do this?" she said venomously, pointing toward the bad.
"Cara," Grace snapped, "Humans are just as fucked up. They've been running around Wildwood beating the shit out of innocent people and snatching girls. Focus. We need to figure out the curse."
Grace may have agreed with Cara, but she felt fiercely defensive of the pack. Her pack.
Cara glared at her. “Where is it?"
The three women bent over the man's ankle. Eileen pulled a pencil from her purse and turned the tangled anklet around the man's leg. She looked to Heath. “He won't tell you where he got this?"
The Alpha shook his head. “No. He won't tell me hardly anything."
"Hey, mister." Cara poked the man's foot. “I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you. Who put this on you?"
The prisoner hadn't moved since they walked into the room. His head was turned to the wall, and he refused to make eye contact with anyone present. Cara moved around the bed and knelt in front of him. “I'm not lying. I want to get you out of here. Where did you get the string around your ankle?"
His mouth opened and closed like a fish choking on air. He stopped, furrowed his brow, and started again, his mouth noiselessly forming words.
The man shook his head. “Fuck you, I don't know."
"You don't know? Or you can't tell me?" Cara asked.
The man nodded.
"Wait, that didn't clear things up. Don't know?" Cara asked.
He shook his head.
"Can't tell?"
He nodded.
"Well, would you look at that." Cara stood up and gestured toward their captive. “The miracle of listening, you fucking monster."
Heath glared at Cara. “He refused to answer."
"He can't answer! A black witch has cursed him!"
"I didn't know that!" Heath roared.
"Hey!" Grace yelled. "Let's figure out how we can get this curse off of him so we can get some real answers from him."
"Cut it," Cara snapped flippantly.
"No!" Eileen jumped in. "We don't know everything this curse does. I think our best bet would be pulling it apart piece by piece. Do you have tweezers?" she asked Heath.
"I'll get the first aid kit," the Alpha grumbled. He returned a few minutes later and handed the red and white box to Eileen. She knelt on the ground and went to work on the gnarled mess of hair and herbs, pulling it apart one piece out at a time.
"Keep an eye on him," Eileen instructed. "Tell me if he starts to go south. Cara, maybe you could burn some sage. There's a smudge stick in my bag. And Grace, get a glass jar filled with salt water so we can bury the curse when I'm done."
As Grace walked across camp to the lodge, she heard the crunch of tires coming up the two-track. She turned to see a black sports car emerge from the trees. It definitely didn't belong to the pack; these men drove ten-year-old SUVs and trucks. This car was straight off the lot. Clouds reflected off the hood as if it was a mirror. Grace didn't know shit about cars, but she knew this one cost more than her home.
She watched the driver unfold himself from the car. He stood a foot taller than Grace and was wearing a goddamn suit. The man straightened his jacket and looked around.
"Malcolm." Heath walked from behind Grace to shake the newcomer's hand. “Follow me." Heath led the man toward cabin one. Malcolm's eyes wandered over Grace's body as he walked by.
"This is your witch?" Malcolm asked Heath.
"Grace may be our witch," Heath growled, "but you'll have to ask her."
Grace smiled and wiggled her fingers at Malcolm before turning away and continuing to the lodge.
When she emerged, West was waiting outside the door and his tail pounded the ground. She emptied her arms and knelt down, scratching his ears and burying her face in his fur. She kissed the wolf between his eyes. “Run later?" He yipped in response.
When she returned to the cabin, the three men were hovering over the bed watching Eileen intently. Eileen had lit the smudge stick and placed it in a dish on the bed. There was no way Cara would have lit the sage, no matter how dire the circumstances were. Grace settled next to Eileen and swept bits of the curse into her jar of salt water.
"Why is Malcolm here?" Grace asked to Eileen.
"Heath didn't tell you? Yesterday they decided to form some kind of alpha alliance to figure out what’s going on in Wildwood."
"But why does Malcolm care about the attacks?"
"Cain thinks it's to prove that he's not behind all this shit. I think it's a political move to keep an eye and a thumb on the other Alphas in the area."
"You don't trust him?" Grace asked, looking at the men.
"No."
"Back up!" Cara wedged herself between the men and their prisoner. “You had your chance, wolves. And you did this." She waved her hand over the man's body.
"I won't talk to them." Oscar stared fixedly at Cara.
Eileen picked the last strand of hair away from his ankle and dropped it into Grace's jar.
Cara turned around. “All right, everyone out." The witches and wolves glanced at each other, unsure what to do. "Out!" Cara bellowed, her voice bouncing off the walls.
Grace jumped and gathered up the smudge stick and jar and followed everyone else out the door.
"We need to bury this." She raised the Mason jar. "Who wants to come?"
They all followed her toward the tree line on the edge of th
e camp.
When they stopped in the forest, Malcolm broke the silence. "I reached out to my man with the Sheriff about the girls."
"And?" Heath prompted.
"The police have nothing. The women were victims of convenience. Different friend circles, no strange internet history, no similar home security, no high-risk behavior. Nothing."
Grace knelt and shoveled dirt with her hands while Eileen stood by holding the burning sage.
Grace stared at the ground. “What the fuck is going on in our town? I mean, the worst thing that used to happen here were DUIs and petty theft." She placed the jar in the hole and pushed the loose dirt over it. "Why is everything going to shit all of a sudden?"
"Let's go see if Cara found anything out," Eileen said.
Cara was already standing outside when the group returned to the cabin.
"Done already?" Heath asked.
"Yeah, it wasn't that difficult. He's not an evil genius. But I'm not letting you near him and I'm not telling you what I found out unless you promise me that he goes free right now. Back to his home."
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Heath threw his hands in the air.
"He's not a threat!" Cara argued.
"How am I supposed to agree to this if I don't have any information about him?"
Cara shrugged. “I guess you'll have to trust me. But I'm sure it's hard for a liar to trust an honest person."
Grace stepped between them. “Heath, say yes."
"Fine," he said through gritted teeth.
"All righty! Our friend seems to have been cursed by a dark witch to beat the shit out of people and then forced into silence by the same evil witch.
“He is part of a human supremacist club, but you already knew that, and they make money for the club by picking up odd jobs. I'm assuming because people don't come to their bake sales. Anyway, he and his trash friends answered a Craigslist add for big dudes to help a woman move. When they got to the house, there were three women and everything after that is fuzzy. He doesn't remember what they look like,"
SOMETHING WICKED Page 11
