Chained to Darkness

by Raven Woodward

  Rasimus’s low laugh vibrated his hot chest that pressed her harder to the wall. Her ass arched back, feeling the full—god, so fucking big—erection press into her.

  He made a noise in the back of his throat and she smiled to herself, curving her spine and wiggling against him. A breathy moan escaped her at the same time he growled.

  Sufficiently distracted, he didn’t notice Harlow drive her heel into his shin.

  His grip didn’t even loosen.

  Instead, he barked a laugh and yanked her off the wall and against his chest, her arms still pinned. From the way she felt his cock straining through his pants, she half wondered—half hoped—if he’d free it and plunge it inside her slick heat. She pushed away that imagery before she could let it spurn her into making a decision she’d surely regret.

  “As much as I love it that you fight dirty, pet,” he rumbled, “your tricks won’t work on me.”

  She struggled then, hoping her shoulders wouldn’t dislocate. His fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of her arms, making her eyes water.

  “Fight all you want. It just turns me on more.”

  She froze, though the bolt of heat that went straight between her thighs made her squeeze them together.

  “Pity,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling from the dip of her shoulder to her ear. He buried his face into her damp red curls and inhaled deeply. “I can smell how wet you are, pet.”

  Harlow’s face flamed but it did little to ease the throbbing in her clit. “Are you going to fuck me or just keep me defenseless?” she asked with a sudden harsh bite.

  The next thing she knew, her back was against the stone wall, her dress hiked up her thighs as the mammoth of a man ground his groin against her damp, silk-clad pussy. She gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth as it came down on hers, hard.

  His taste was even better than his scent, like smoke and whiskey. His tongue swept against hers, tasting her just as fiercely as she tasted him. Her hands were all over his shoulders, his chest, worshipping each bulge and dip of hard-earned muscle. He captured her wrists and with one hand, pinned them above her head, ceasing her desperate attempt to feel every inch of him. She made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a whimper.

  With his other hand he cupped her sex over her panties, causing her to quiver beneath him. His fingers were skilled, his touch scorching her. He pulled the fabric aside, finding her clit immediately and pressing against the sensitive bud while his other fingers stroked up and down through the wet heat of her folds.

  “So wet, my pet,” he murmured against her battered lips. His kiss devoured her moans when the first finger slid inside. Then another. All the while rubbing her nub in languid circles.

  His fingers were brutal, thrusting into her over and over the same way she imagined his cock would fill her. It didn’t take long for her body to shake, her orgasm building up hard and fast, her muscles clenching.

  “Don’t cum yet, pet,” Rasimus growled, breaking the battle between their tongues and teeth to nip at her throat, just above where the three red scars marred her collarbone.

  “I have to,” she panted.

  His hand left her sex and she cried out just before he spun her around and pulled her panties down to her ankles, baring her ass to him. Tremors of delight wracked her body.

  Then the sound of a slap and the sharp sting on her rear end registered. He’d spanked her.

  The moan that tore from her throat was straight-up embarrassing. His hand slid around her hip to her pussy yet again, his fingers resuming their delicious work.

  “Say my name,” he commanded.

  “Rasimus,” she breathed.

  This time when his touch disappeared from her aching cunt, she didn’t have time to miss it before another slap echoed in the room, eliciting another cry of pleasure from her.

  “Louder,” he growled.

  “Rasimus,” she said, surprised that she could speak at all.

  Another slap landed on her ass, and her knees shook with the effort of staying upright.

  “This time when I touch your pussy, you’re going to scream my name so every motherfucker in this building hears you. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, arching her back like a cat in heat.

  And when his fingers began thrusting inside her again, her orgasm crashed into her like a tidal wave. She screamed his name, just like he’d ordered her to do, his strokes drawing out her pleasure.

  Her knees knocked together, and he caught her by the waist just as her legs gave out. His fingers were wet with her cum as he held them to her lips.

  “Lick,” he said.

  And she did. The aftershocks of such an intense orgasm coursed through her as she tasted herself. Her lips wrapped around his fingers and she sucked. He groaned before withdrawing them, licking the rest of her juices from his fingers.

  A rumbling echoed in his chest, and she thought for a moment that he’d finally fuck her. Instead he lifted her into his arms and set her on the bed. With a grin that was every bit wicked male satisfaction he said, “Food first, then your first combat lesson. If you do well, I’ll reward you.”

  She had no doubt his idea of reward would be in the form of another orgasm, and her thighs clenched together in anticipation. He stood, taking a moment to stare down at her as something softer crossed his face. There and gone too quickly for her to read it.

  He stalked to the door, which slid open for him. When it closed, she wondered how—or if—she could lock it, so the guys didn’t just come and go as they pleased.

  Harlow lay back and closed her eyes, reveling in the high that lingered from her orgasm.

  Only minutes later, a woman in her mid-to-late thirties entered, carrying a tray filled with covered dishes. Her hair was an ash blond, faint creases adorning her face. She was thin and perhaps a little gaunt, but her smile was bright as she greeted Harlow in a thick accent she’d never heard before.

  “Tis a bright ’n this moon cycle, isn’t it, dearling?”

  Harlow blinked as she fought through the fog in her mind to make sense of the words. “Um, yes?”

  The woman just smiled. “I’m Brevaria, the cook. Your maids were indisposed this morning, but they’ll be about to introduce themselves. Thought I’d be the first to say how pleased I am that you’ve pulled through. The master has been in such a grisly mood thinking you was dying, but I see you’re recovered and all. That’s swell news, that is.” Brevaria, who was now decidedly Harlow’s favorite person, set the tray on the edge of the bed. With a bow, she moved toward the door.

  “Wait,” Harlow called. “He thought I was dying? Dying from what?”

  The woman paused, turning to face her. Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not sure, Princess. Lord Oricus didn’t say. Just kept mutterin’ everywhere he went that you would pull through. And you did.” She smiled brightly, the gap between her two front teeth only adding to her charm.

  Harlow’s throat closed slightly, and she choked on her words. “I’m not a princess.”

  The woman’s eyes crinkled, and her lined mouth turned down in a frown. “Apologies, Miss. T’was only a term of endearment.”

  Harlow nodded. “So we’ve met before?” she asked.

  Brevaria shook her head, smiling. “Oh, no, Miss. I never get out of the kitchen much at all.”

  Biting her lip, Harlow nodded again. “Sorry, I forgot to ask earlier. Where are we?”

  The woman’s brows pinched together. First in confusion, then in what looked like pain. “Lord Oricus willn’t me to say, my lady,” she replied in barely a whisper.

  Harlow’s chest tightened, her heart pounding. “Thanks, Brevaria. I’ll come visit when I can.”

  That brightened the woman’s face and with a curtsy, she disappeared through the doorway.

  Staring down at the tray of food, Harlow felt her stomach churn sourly.

  Lord Oricus? Who was he? What was he? A nobleman? A prince?

  What
was she?

  Where was she and why wouldn’t Brevaria tell her?

  But more importantly, why did she feel like an insect caught in a spider’s web, entangling her deeper and deeper toward her doom with each movement she made?

  ONOLIZA

  The projection stone inlaid into the golden armrest of her throne shimmered, alerting her to an incoming communication. Waving her hand above it displayed Oricus’s face, level with hers. His expression was hard, but there were circles under his eyes that made her think he wasn’t sleeping as well as he should be.

  “Well hello, Princeling,” she purred. Just the sight of him caused the slit between her legs to dampen with cool moisture. Rubbing a finger over it, she watched him give a shallow inclination of his head.

  Hardly an acknowledgement. He also hadn’t said her name in weeks. Their tether was severed, and she planned to find out why.

  “Empress,” he answered.

  “You’ve not visited in so long,” she whined, still stroking her entrance.

  “I’ve had much to attend to the past few weeks. My brother has proven himself to be a particular pain in my ass as of late.”

  “Hmmm.” Even without him being in the same room, she could taste his lies. “What sort of things would keep you from your needy empress, Princeling?” she asked in a tone as frosty as her insides.

  He offered a tight smile. “Just business, love. Nothing too out of the ordinary.”

  “And the human girl?” she asked. “Harlow.” The name was a curse on her lips. The plain redhead with her ridiculously exaggerated curves had captured Arian’s attention, so she’d ordered Oricus to execute her.

  “Dead, like you ordered. Her body burned to ashes.”

  An otherworldly screech erupted from her throat. She leapt to her feet, casting the projection stone across the hall. Oricus’s image flicked into view, larger than before.

  “I wanted her bones!”

  Oricus gave a long-suffering sigh, as though she were merely a petulant child. “She was caught in a housefire. There was nothing to salvage.”

  Onoliza’s fury grew. “Bring me her ashes then, Prince, or I’ll trap you in your beast form and enslave you in my chambers until the end of time!”

  The hard prince bowed subtly. But before he could disappear, she said in a much calmer voice, “The kingdoms you and your brothers have established on Earth need to be dissolved.” Examining her long, slender fingers, she picked at a loose scale. “I’m almost certain there’s something there I want, and besides, I think it’s time to expand my army again.”

  She lifted her gaze in time to see that sexy muscle in his jaw twitch, his only reaction to her orders.

  “Very well, Empress.”

  ORICUS

  His growl reverberated through the stone chamber. Onoliza just had to go and make shit difficult for him at every opportunity.

  It was his fault. In trying to hide his puppet’s scent, he’d pissed the Empress off. Now she thought she could smoke the fox out of his hole, so to speak. His fist impacted with the hard wall, crumbling stone into dust and rubble in the crater he’d created.

  He snarled a string of curses in his native tongue before brushing off his bloodied fist. The split skin knitted back together, creating a tingling sensation in his knuckles. It was a sensation he’d craved for many centuries, letting himself be beaten in tournaments just to revel in the power of his accelerated healing.

  But at least one thing was going right. The Empress might suspect that they were in Scondelade, but if she knew exactly where he was, she’d have visited him in person. Which meant Rex’s cloaking spells were effective. However, there was the issue with needing to procure Harlow’s ashes and the fact that in order to buy himself a little more time, he’d have to visit Onoliza. And as soon as the Mark was complete, Harlow’s scent would remain on him forever. Not to mention the Mark on him would be visible if Onoliza ever required him to get naked.

  She rarely did. Thank fuck for that.

  But pulling away only made the bitch more needy.

  Rasimus chose that moment to knock, the door unbolting and opening without his consent. The damn locks were as easy as a whore on a street corner whenever Rasimus was around. For some reason, the castle seemed to like him. Which meant Oricus didn’t get the chance to tell him to fuck off.

  “Get out,” he growled.

  His brother smirked. “That good, huh?”

  Oricus rolled his eyes. He dropped into his chair and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “We have to move our timeline up. The bitch is going to attack. Soon. I wouldn’t put past the crazy-ass psycho to say it could be a matter of weeks. We need to put all our plans into motion as soon as possible.”

  Rasimus’s dark steel-grey eyes watched him. “She’s nowhere near ready. I trained with her for an hour or so, but she’ll need months of my teachings, not to mention her magic lessons and—”

  Oricus cut him off with an agitated sigh. “We don’t have a choice. The joining ceremony is going to have to be after the Lunvet Solstice Ball, if we even have that long. Time is against us.”

  A weighted pause. “And if she doesn’t want to?”

  He pretended not to hear the contempt in his brother’s voice. “That’s what chains are for.”

  At his brother’s disapproving look, Oricus scoffed. “It’s the bond that’s making you think you give a fuck about the Morovitz, but don’t forget she was riding Arian’s damn cock only a month ago. The bond is a means to an end; it has nothing to do with love. The sooner you embrace that she’s a doll we get to play with and use as we see fit, the better off you’ll be.”

  Rasimus’s gaze narrowed to slits. “And you’re fooling yourself if you think she hasn’t already gotten under your skin. The bond may be forced, instead of fate or whatever dumbass existential bullshit everyone chooses to believe, but once it’s completed, it’ll be forever. She’ll be ours and we’ll be hers. The only way that’s going to work is if we put in a little effort. If she hates us, she won’t help us. And the whole point of wiping her memories was to make it so she didn’t fight us.”

  Oricus pulled out a cigarette from his top drawer, lit it, and inhaled until his lungs were filled with smoke. He didn’t do it often, only when stress got the better of him, but the distraction made it so he didn’t have to look at his younger brother and see the disappointment in his gaze. The bastard was right, but that didn’t mean Oricus liked it.

  He exhaled a plume of smoke. “Fine, you can play make believe with her and try to get her to fall in love with you, but I’ve won what I wanted and that’s all that matters to me. My relationship with her is irrelevant. Once the curtain is pulled back and all is revealed”—his voice dropped—“she’ll hate us anyway. Me especially.” Not to mention if he allowed himself to feel for the girl, he’d betray the memory of Slevana. He’d already had a mate and failed her. Harlow fulfilled two purposes: punishing Arian and creating the illusion of a wholesome front to the Scondeladian people.

  His brother shook his head and stalked out, the door shut slamming behind him as if the castle too were displeased with him.

  Swallowing hard, Oricus squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of his favorite little puppet invaded his mind. Naked, on his bed, her tantalizing curves on full display. Her fiery red hair and her flushed cheeks with the scent of her arousal like a beacon for him. But when the time came, it wouldn’t be just him.

  His eyes opened, cutting off the image before it had time to play out.

  She’s just a toy, he reminded himself.

  Revenge.

  But something in his chest tightened, recognizing his words for the lie they were. He forced the sensation of guilt deep down, trapping it where he couldn’t find it again. Watching her and Rasimus in her room—the way he’d brought her orgasm after orgasm—had made him uncomfortably hard and weirdly jealous when he’d answered Onoliza’s visual comm. He’d wanted to go to her. To make her
scream his name. When the time came, he’d make sure she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was a better fuck than Arian ever was.

  He’d let the others woo her, however. Bring her to her knees, begging for each of them. Together they’d fuck her, Mark her. Claim her.

  Phase one of their plan would be complete. It would just take a few weeks.

  And he’d keep his distance so their bond couldn’t grow.

  He laughed out loud to the empty room. Already he felt her pull. In a wing on the other side of the building, her presence was like a siren’s song, beckoning him to her.

  How much stronger would it be when they were mated?

  So long as being Marked by twelve monsters didn’t break her, he’d call that a win. It won’t break her. If she could survive the change, she’d survive this too. She was strong. After that, he’d take it day by day.

  Heavens help him, he was looking forward to being mated again. To that sensation of wholeness.

  His gaze slid to the wall, as though he could see through every wall that separated him from her.

  Soon.

  Tonight, and every night for all time, she’d be his.

  HARLOW

  After her training session with Rasimus had made her more than a little sweaty—and not just because he was a hard-ass that pushed her until her body shook with the effort—she needed another shower.

  She’d just wrapped the fluffy white towel around her middle and strolled toward the closet when her door slid open and Rex stepped inside. The realization that his name came to her easily surprised her.

  With a small shriek, she clutched the towel tighter. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

  Rex’s cheeks turned pink though he sent her a lopsided grin. “Come on now, we’re Marked. Propriety is a bit senseless.”

  “It is not,” she argued.

  He chuckled, and she folded her arms over her chest with a huff. “What did you need?”