Rex stepped forward as though involuntary. “We need to do a quick magic lesson. We’re going to have to accelerate things. Your joining ceremony is being moved to next month.”
Harlow held up a hand. “Wait, what? Magic? Joining ceremony?”
Rex smacked his forehead with his palm then sent her an apologetic look. “I keep forgetting you’ve forgotten absolutely everything. Right, yes, magic.” He extended his hand, palm toward the ceiling. After a moment, blobs of shining water appeared out of thin air, growing until he held a sphere of water. It churned and sloshed, but still kept its shape.
Harlow gaped. “Beautiful.”
“Yeah. I can draw on the elements. I’m not entirely sure, but I think you can manipulate matter. Change it from one thing to another as well as drawing on the elements. I can go a little further, but it always weakens me faster.”
She swallowed hard, hands clutching the towel so hard her knuckles turned white. “And I can do that too? You’ve seen it?”
He nodded. “I’ve seen you do way cooler things than pull water out of the air. I’ll coax it out of you, don’t you worry.” With a wink he carried on, still spinning the globe of water. “You’ll need to have control over it because Morovitz lose themselves during the Marking ceremony. We have a few weeks, but that should be enough time.”
“A few weeks…?” Her mouth went dry. “Why so soon?”
Rex reached for her, cupping her cheek gently. “You’re more ready than you think. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but we’re all bonded to you, which means we can’t hurt you. We’ll look after you and we won’t ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with—”
“I’m uncomfortable with all of it!” she snapped, taking a step back. “I don’t know any of you!”
A flash of anger crossed his handsome features, which he schooled back into a mask of calm. “I know it’s soon, but you’ll get to know us all again.”
Harlow shook her head, fighting back a wave of nausea. “But why does it have to be now? Why not in a year…or six?”
He sighed. “The longer you go unclaimed, the more of a target you are. There are people that envy those with Marked mates and will seek to steal them away. Usually to use them as a bargaining chip since the male will go insane when separated from his mate. But once the Mark is complete, you have less of a target on your back.”
Harlow sensed his flimsy excuse for what it was—a front for a deeper truth. They were hiding something. And no matter how much she ached for the man in front of her, or the others she could sense not far from her room, she’d be damned before she willingly gave herself over to them for life…however long that was for her.
Pain lanced through her skull and she cried out, dropping to her hands and knees. White flashed in front of her, a series of images too blurry to make out, dancing in rapid succession.
Gruff male voices clouded the edges of her subconscious while she fought against the blackness invading her vision. Panting through the searing pain, she let the images slip away and the room became visible again, though blurred.
Rex knelt in front of her and several others laid their hands on her bare back, alerting her to the fact that her towel had slipped off.
“What’s wrong with her?” a heavily accented voice asked. She’d heard it earlier. Viktor?
“Did you do something to her?” another voice boomed accusatorily.
She faintly registered Rex’s tight words. “Probably a memory trigger. She’s incredibly powerful.”
Her stomach clamped and she heaved up what little she’d had for breakfast. A warm, comforting palm rubbed circles on her back while another held her hair out of the way. Through her ragged breathing, she felt almost certain Rex was being careful with his words to avoid saying something she shouldn’t hear.
What was he hiding? What were they all hiding?
Her brain was too clouded to piece things together. She needed to clear her head.
Why wouldn’t her head clear?
It felt like she was trying to push away a thick fog that turned to glue every time she swiped it away.
She made a noise of frustration.
“Everyone get the fuck out,” she said through gritted teeth.
A few of them chuckled as though she’d said some joke, though at least one got to his feet.
It was Rex that spoke next. “I’ve got it handled. You lot can go.”
Most did, albeit taking their time doing so.
She looked up just in time to catch Rasimus, who’d been the one holding her hair, get to his feet and glare down at Rex.
“She’s not just yours, Almstad. Don’t you dare forget that.” Then the hulking warrior stalked for the door, pausing in the doorway. He turned back to rake in every inch of Harlow’s naked body, and heat suffused her.
Between her palms was her vomit and she was certain she looked like a hot mess, but still lust, need, and something darker—more possessive—warred in his flinty gaze. He seemed to communicate with just a look what he was looking forward to. What he was completely and utterly expecting her to do in just a few weeks.
To give herself to him.
To give her body to all of them.
Twelve men.
One her.
“I’ll see you soon, pet.”
She shivered at his words. Heat and ice battled for dominance in her blood. Rasimus left and the door closed behind him, leaving her alone yet again with Rex.
She couldn’t deny that a small part of her—the part she imagined that was supernaturally bound to the men lingering even closer to her door than before—wanted them.
Fuck me, she groaned internally. Am I actually some nasty-ass slut that allows herself to get dicked down by twelve guys? That was extreme, even for a porno.
Sitting back on her heels, she snagged the towel and wrapped it around herself again. She forced her gaze to Rex’s, only to notice that his was decidedly not on her face.
“Eyes up here, asshat,” she snapped.
Rex made a noise halfway between a laugh and a cough. “Always the feisty one, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know, am I?” Bitterness laced her tone. “I know you know what really happened to my memory, and you’re not going to tell me. So I won’t beg. Just know that I refuse to be bound to any of you until I get some answers.”
With that, she stood and stormed over to her massive walk-in closet. It greeted her by swinging open, but the racks remained inside, allowing her to hide between them. The door shut and a light turned on above her, a small glowing orange canister illuminating the small space. In the very back of the wardrobe she found a pair of black skinny jeans and a deep purple cardigan. She frowned.
The garments seemed familiar, but they looked brand-new. With a sigh she selected the least sexy undergarments she could find—another silk selection, this time in black. After slipping them on, she pulled on the new jeans and sweater, pairing it all with a pair of black pumps. She loved the feel of the material hugging, but not suffocating, her slender frame. New clothes were exciting, and these made her feel especially sexy.
There was a full-length mirror that hung at the back and she turned from side to side, inspecting her form. It made moving so much easier than in the dress she’d worn earlier for combat training.
Rasimus’s hard expression had cracked as his lips twisted into a wicked grin.
She was pretty sure every time he’d gotten her onto her back during training was for a peek at her undergarments. Asshole.
“Where the hell were these when I’d needed something to kick ass in?” she asked her closet, half expecting it to answer. She felt foolish for talking to her closet—but if the shower could answer, then why couldn’t the wardrobe? Running her hands over the thin material covering her torso, she said, “I like this more than the dresses. So…you know, maybe offer more of them, okay?”
If only he hadn’t been standing in front of her, smelling of
spicy musk in all his bare-chested, rippling-abs glory, reminding her of how he’d made her cum on his fingers with every glance, then perhaps her stupid silk panties wouldn’t have been soaked through.
When she exited the wardrobe in her new attire, Rex sat on the edge of her bed, toned arms folded over his chest, his lips quirked to the side.
Clearly he’d overheard her talking to the closet.
“Thought you’d have gone by now.”
His eyes scanned her jeans and sweater, brows furrowed in confusion. “We’re supposed to have a lesson on magic.”
Aromas wafted through the air, drawing her attention to the table on her right filled with trays of steaming foods. Her mouth watered and Rex laughed.
“I see you’re still driven by your stomach.”
The comment had her snapping back to him, her brows creased. A pang of something like hurt flared in her chest.
His amused expression fell. Clearing his throat, he got to his feet and made his way toward her.
“It’s not fair that you remember things about me, but I don’t remember anything about you. Any of you.”
His eyes filled with sadness. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek. “You’ll get to know me again in time.” After a second, he amended, “All of us.”
“Do you love me?” The question spilled out before she could stop it.
His brows shot up his forehead, then his gaze softened. Stroking her cheek gently with his thumb, he answered. “I do. I have since the moment I met you. It was fast and crazy, my falling for you.”
Her chest warmed at his words. “And did I love you? Before I forgot everything?”
Rex licked his lips, silently contemplating his next words. “I know you cared for me. Our situation wasn’t easy, but you and I have been connected in a deep way, even as kids. We have a special bond.” He smiled. “Given enough time, I’m certain you’ll be madly in love with me.” His grin was wide and boyish.
Harlow couldn’t help but return it, feeling the truth in his words. She wanted to ask more, but before she could, he spun her by her shoulders and guided her toward the table with a hand on her back.
Her stomach rumbled as if agreeing that it was past time to eat. But then she remembered she’d vomited only a short time ago, and turned away, muttering that she’d be right back.
Inside the bathroom she whispered, “I need mouthwash. Or a toothbrush.”
“Certainly,” the cheery voice answered, loud and damning. The mirror over the sink swung out to reveal a hidden cabinet that held something resembling an electric toothbrush and an automatic dispenser that squirted a dollop of weird, purple gel onto the toothbrush head. It chirped when Harlow pulled it off its stand. For a moment she examined it for an on button, but when she couldn’t find it, she stuck it in her mouth and started to scrub.
The vibrations began instantly, humming softly in her hand. Harlow giggled slightly, wondering how long everything would seem new and strange.
After brushing her teeth and securing the toothbrush back onto its charge station, she thanked the invisible woman and returned to the table, where Rex was waiting for her. The food was untouched, and for that she was glad because she was suddenly starving.
Rex smiled at her, and she focused on the platters of food spread out in a feast fit for five instead of two. Her gaze snagged on a bowl of vibrantly colored diced vegetables and her breath hitched. A word spilled out of her lips before she could stop: “Delicious.” She didn’t know how she knew it, but she’d tasted them before and liked them.
Rex lifted a single brow. “What?”
A flutter at the edge of her mind had her grasping at the memory. The moment she did, flashes of a face and a candlelit table filled her mind. Then the room swayed, and she gasped, steadying herself on the edge of the table.
“Harlow,” Rex whispered, casting an anxious glance to the closed door. “Stop. I know what you’re doing, and you need to stop.”
Bile pushed up her throat, her skull throbbing so violently she thought it would burst. A moan of pain tore from her and a blast of heat shot to her palms.
The scent of burning fabric reached her nostrils at the same time she heard—rather than saw—Rex leap back, yelping, “Fuck.”
Her vision was too blurred for her to make anything out, and she squeezed her eyes shut to stop the room from spinning. Why was this happening to her?
“Harlow, you need to calm down. Take a few deep breaths.”
The pain spread down to her chest, but the ache was more akin to a sense of deep loss. A wail escaped her, and faintly, she heard crackling along with a wave of heat in front of her. It warmed and soothed her. She leaned into it, wanting the heat to devour her.
Suddenly it was doused, and she forced her eyes open. Rex’s hands were extended in front of him, his eyes on the tabletop. It was black. The remaining scraps of tablecloth, as well as the charred wooden table, smoked.
With a bang, the door was thrown open and Oricus burst inside, his face screwed up in anger. “What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded. “I could smell the smoke all the way up in my quarters.”
Rex dropped to his seat, slipping on a lazy grin. “Just having a bit of a lesson on controlling our magic. Harlow seems to have forgotten that her magic is tied to her emotions.” He sent her a pointed look and her brows lowered.
Why was he lying?
And what did he mean when he said he knew what she was doing? Did he know she’d just had flashes of a memory that had slipped through the cracks in the wall of her mind? Whatever trauma she’d suffered, her mind had locked it all away, but she was already beginning to access it.
He’d told her to stop, and looked nervous.
Which meant he knew how that wall got there to begin with. Not an accident. Not an injury. Something had happened that she wasn’t supposed to know about.
But why?
If they were all her mates and cared about her, then were they trying to hide something from her, or trying to protect her from something?
Perhaps from someone.
She wanted to demand answers. To slap Oricus with the realization that whatever he was preventing her from remembering was coming back to her. Even if the images she’d seen were hazy and didn’t make sense.
Harlow caught the self-appointed ringleader sharing a look with Rex, and his lunch companion lowered his head in a subtle nod.
With a tight smile Oricus asked, “We’ll all dine together tonight to celebrate your returning to the land of the living, Puppet.”
Her lips pursed. “Why do you call me that? Puppets are wooden dolls suspended with strings, made to dance by a sadistic master.” She tilted forward. “And I’m no one’s doll.”
His lips split, curving upward and flashing a hint of canines. The expression added to his predatory features. “But how beautiful you’d look tied up.”
Heat stained her face and neck. Still, she raised her chin defiantly. “I dare you to try to chain me. Wild things aren’t meant to be bound—they tend to bite.” She emphasized the last word, showing that she wasn’t afraid of them.
His eyes darkened with unmistakable lust. They stared each other down, neither willing to blink.
Beside her, Rex cleared his throat. She startled, having forgotten he was even there.
Before Rex could say anything to diffuse the tension, Oricus said, “You will join us for dinner. That’s not a request.”
He shut the door behind him, cutting off Harlow’s protest.
A growl rumbled in her throat, but heat still coursed through her body.
The bastard had gotten her hot despite his blatant attempt to portray her as the victim. She’d risen to the bait, just as he’d wanted.
Yet he demanded that she attend dinner with him and the others after admitting to tricking her somehow? Did he think her so foolish that she’d simply march into a room filled with ravenous wolves—to be their lamb for the slaughter?
HARLOW
Rex excused himself not long after Oricus departed, claiming that he’d let her rest and in the morning they’d try again.
She could tell from his eagerness to slip away that whatever they were all hiding, she was onto them. There was magic in her veins—in his too—and he’d called her “too powerful.”
For what? Their deceptions?
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she glanced around the drab stone room, feeling a keen sense of loss and longing in her chest that made her eyes burn. Something was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Wherever here was. Closing her eyes, Harlow let her mind relax and focused on her memories. She latched onto Oricus, sensing he was somehow the pinnacle of whatever scheme she was a part of.
Slipping inside where his handsome face beckoned, she outlined his sharp jaw and cunning silver eyes. The taunting cut of his smile tugged on something deeper, and she pulled at it, forcing it to the forefront of her mind.
Pain blasted through her skull and she ground her teeth together, trying to keep any sounds locked inside. She pulled harder, and a blurry image surfaced.
A blur of a large stone-grey body and the flash of razor-sharp fangs. The press of claws above her collarbone and the searing agony of them sinking into her flesh. Slowly. Carefully. The beast was leaving his mark. A calling card of sorts.
Harlow sucked in a breath, the scars on her chest flaring hot. Her eyes flew open and the image faded, but the memory remained. The beast. It was him, somehow. He’d left the scars on her chest. It explained why he was always looking at them with pride and satisfaction.
Her stomach turned at the realization. Suddenly unable to sit still, she leapt to her feet and began to pace. What would she do with this new information? Rush to him and tell him she knew he was some kind of massive werewolf that had horns? That she knew he’d scarred her?
What would that get her?
No, the man was too clever. She could see it hidden in those enigmatic eyes, the game he played. The other men seemed to know it too, but somehow, they remained complacent. They were all pieces on a chess board and he moved them. Orchestrated his symphony of chaos.
Chained to Darkness Page 4
