Chained to Darkness

by Raven Woodward

  A waiter appeared from somewhere behind them to take it away, and a new covered dish floated down in front of him moments later.

  Harlow was enraptured with the details of the room, the display of magic from Rex, and the magnificent food she slowly sampled.

  When she cut into the steak for the first time, Rex looked on as though he’d seen a ghost. Besides the music playing in the background, the room seemed to hold its breath for her, waiting for each bite, each reaction. Oricus still hadn’t touched his uncovered plate.

  “Tell me, Puppet, how are you acclimating to everything?” he asked.

  A few of the men looked up from their meals, genuinely interested in her answer.

  Harlow smiled demurely. “Well it is all a bit much to go from no memories at all to being thrown into a world with magic and mates and castles. I’m fairly certain I’m not accustomed to having staff wait on me, because it feels wrong. But I recall how I got these scars.” She paused to take a sip of her water and enjoy the faces that snapped up in shock. Smiling, she added, “You remember how I got them too, don’t you, Oricus?”

  His eyes danced with amusement, lips curling into a smile. He leaned back in his chair, and Harlow thoroughly enjoyed the silence that followed this time. “I do believe you encountered a wild animal in the forest, my dear.”

  She nodded, looking thoughtful. “It was huge, grey. Hairless. It had twisted white horns and silver eyes. Just like yours.”

  Attention swiveled from her to the head of the table where Oricus sat. He wasn’t mad at all about her remembering him purposefully leaving scars on her. In fact, he looked…pleased.

  “It’s good to know that your memories are returning, Puppet.” He lifted his glittering glass and drank deeply. “Let’s have a dance in celebration!”

  Oricus pushed back from the table, strode around to where she sat, and offered his hand. Ten of the men cheered from their seats. Harlow stood, tentatively reaching for him. When her skin met his, a spark zapped all the way up her arm, making her gasp.

  His pupils dilated, leaving no doubt that he’d felt it too. A different tune began to play through the room. Livelier, with a mixture of instruments. Seeming to come back to himself, he pulled her into the open. Their gazes were locked, his free hand sliding around her waist before resting dangerously low on her back. When the tempo began to swell, his body moved, and hers with it. She found the rhythm instinctually, making their moves seamless, flowing gracefully, and yet she felt stunned. The heat of his body mixed with the scent of whiskey and cherries made her want to lean in, to press her lips to the smooth exposed skin of his neck, but he twirled her away.

  The final note of the song rent through the otherwise still room. It broke whatever spell he’d cast on her. Pulling her hand free, she glanced back at the table. A cord of intensity held them all frozen in place. Her chest heaved for a deep, steadying breath—

  —and she was met with twelve ridiculously strong male scents. Each unique, they called to her.

  Geoff was the first to rise, striding over to her, expressionless, when another melody—faster and more vibrant than the last—began to play. It didn’t sound as sensual, which helped to dispel the reek of lust in the air.

  He lifted her hand, placing a kiss to the back of her hand, and she couldn’t fight the smile that surfaced. Oricus finally moved past them, and Harlow snuck a peek over her shoulder at him, but his face was hidden from her. Had he won that round, or had she? Judging by the sinking sensation in her gut, she had to guess it was neither.

  Geoff was playful, though shy; he made her laugh with his ridiculous dance moves. Lefayon had pulled her from his brother before the song was over, spinning and dipping her as though they were contestants on a ballroom dancing competition.

  Koen and Darrow joined in, taking turns whirling with her across the stone floor, carefully maneuvering her to keep from tripping on the roots and vines that slithered across it. Rex was next, swooping her into his arms right when a slow, melancholy tune began.

  Still smiling, Harlow looked up into his piercing blue eyes. He searched her face for a moment, and she asked, “What?”

  He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “You look happy.”

  She pulled back. “Is that unusual for me?” The elation that had filled her chest began to fade.

  Rex shook his head. “No. But so soon after… You’re just taking this all really well.”

  Something hideous and undesirable unfurled in her gut. Like a disease, it spread through her quickly until she stepped away from him. “So soon after what? What happened to me? And don’t tell me I hit my head.”

  The music screeched to a stop and all eyes in the room fell on her.

  Rex stepped forward, reaching for her, but she moved away just as quickly. “You did hit your head.” He attempted a smile, but it fell flat. “We’re just not sure how to act knowing you’ve forgotten all of us.”

  Harlow shook her head, looking at each man that appeared poised to spring toward her. “I don’t buy that. I feel a connection to you”—she gestured at Rex—“and Oricus and Rasimus. Like I remember the three of you in some capacity, but I don’t remember the rest of you. It feels like I just met you, and you’re all acting like you’re getting to know me for the first time too.”

  “Pity,” Oricus rumbled. His voice seemed to shake the floor. The tree that stood proud trembled like a living thing in fear.

  Slowly, deliberately, he stood. Walking toward her, he looked like a predator. Scratch that—he was a predator. She had the scars to prove it. He could transform into a monster.

  He was a monster. A monster with a secret. And from the look on his face, she could tell she was close to unearthing that secret.

  “Hold her.”

  Two sets of strong hands gripped her arms. Throwing a look back, she saw Koen and Lefayon’s matching grim expressions.

  “What’s happening?” Harlow asked, her voice threaded with panic. “Let me go!” She tried to call on the invisible source of power that had set fire to the table in her room but either it was just a fluke, or her “magic” was hiding, because she couldn’t feel even a tingle of it. Which left her with physical strength.

  She struggled, throwing her weight back against the men holding her, but they didn’t budge. A scream ripped from her throat and another hand with darker skin clapped over her mouth—Kel. She tried to bite, but it was no use.

  Oricus stood in front of her, disappointment written on his face. “You were doing so well. But you’re asking too many questions, Puppet.”

  He nodded toward Rex, who stood off to the side. His fists were clenched, and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

  Whatever was about to happen, he wasn’t happy about it.

  “Rex.” The word was too muffled behind Kel’s hand.

  The man with a boyish face and stunning blue eyes came to stand in front of her. Despite the pleading in her eyes, he lifted his hands and rested them on either side of her face.

  Then it all went black.

  HARLOW

  A rhythmic rapping roused Harlow from a deep sleep. With a reluctant groan she rolled onto her back, scrubbing the sleep from her eyes with the palms of her hands. She’d dreamt of the night before. Of the dinner she’d shared with the twelve men who now laid claim to her heart. They’d danced, and she’d gotten to know them all a little bit better.

  After Rex had walked her back to her room and kissed her hand goodnight, she’d fallen into a deep sleep and dreamed of each of her mates. The way they smelled when she was close. What made them laugh and if they were good dancers.

  Viktor had, of course, refused to dance with her, though she’d pecked a kiss to his cheek just to spite him. The others had roared with laughter.

  It had been an excellent night.

  A pulsing throb in the back of her head made her wince. She rubbed it, scooting herself up into a sitting position, just as the knocking resumed.
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  “You better have coffee!” she shouted in warning to whoever stood on the other side of the door.

  A deep male chuckle sounded in answer, muffled by the wooden door that Harlow glared at. “I have something I think you might enjoy more. Besides, I’m pretty sure I passed the maid carrying your breakfast tray.”

  She climbed out of bed and slipped into a silky robe that she tied at the waist before heading toward the door. From voice alone, she felt fairly confident that she’d find dark hair and pale green eyes on the other side.

  When she opened the door, her mouth dropped open. She was right about the man, but what he held was what surprised her. Cradled in Tadaj’s arms were blank canvases, a box filled with paints, and a bundle of brand-new brushes.

  The handsome man smiled. His shoulder-length dark hair was knotted on top of his head; matching dark stubble decorated his sharp jaw. “Sorry,” he said before striding into the room. “I work mainly with charcoal, so I had to make a special trip to get these. I wasn’t sure if you wanted acrylics or oils, so I got both.” He placed it all on her rumpled bed and turned, flashing her a roguish smile that made her heart flip in her chest.

  “I…paint?” she asked quizzically.

  His smile slipped a little and she wished she’d simply thanked him. “Yeah, you did.” He shoved his hands into his form-hugging black denim jeans. “You’re really good.”

  A flutter of excitement kicked between her ribs. Just looking at the supplies settled a sensation of rightness in her chest. “Thank you,” she said.

  As predicted, the door slid open and Emuria waltzed in, humming a tune to herself. Atop the tray she carried was a steaming mug. Harlow practically leapt for it, the smell like a siren’s song. The girl jumped, but wisely did not withhold the coffee.

  Tadaj laughed outright at her animalistic behavior. “Looks like you have everything you need so I’ll let you be. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Harlow lowered her mug long enough to nod eagerly. The sexy man left, and a weird pang of longing hit her. But she ignored it and dove into the plate of pancakes like a starved animal, not even bothering to thank the woman that had brought her such heavenly delights. The syrup was golden but fruity with a tartness she couldn’t place. Little slices of pale fruit she’d mistaken for pears dissolved like sugar on her tongue.

  She moaned, savoring each bite.

  The sound of her door opening yet again alerted her of a masculine laugh. She turned, wiping a drip of syrup from her chin.

  “You and your food,” Rex teased. “You have a dozen mates, yet it’s the pancakes that have you in the throes of pleasure.”

  “Well sure, but have you tried them?” She held out her empty plate and he laughed again.

  “I have.” His smile faltered and something like concern filled his eyes. “I just wanted to see if you were feeling all right.” He strode toward her but halted halfway, his gaze locked on the painting supplies Tadaj had dropped off.

  After a few moments of tense silence, she said, “I’m feeling fine, thanks. What is it?”

  He glanced at her, his face ashen. “You remembered that you like to paint?”

  She shook her head. “Tadaj brought them for me.”

  Rex nodded, every muscle in his body inexplicably tense. He gave her a tight smile before turning back for the door. “Well, enjoy.”

  “Wait,” she called. He paused, but didn’t face her. “Do you know if I used acrylic or oil? I can’t remember.”

  He didn’t answer right away, finally saying, “You used both, but oil was your preferred medium.”

  Before she could thank him, he’d gone, closing the door behind him and giving her the privacy she needed to let her creative energy out.

  She set up the folded tabletop easel she hadn’t noticed before and placed a canvas on it, securing it in place. Her hands hovered over the brushes, a tingle spreading through her limbs. The moment her fingertips brushed over a silken wood handle, the room vanished.

  A rusty orange sky filled with glowing spaceships. Thousands of them in neat rows, of varying shapes and colors, with one resembling a centipede—

  Beasts with twisting horns and strong, furred bodies. Their thundering footfalls as they raced through a thick, dark forest. Breaths curled in white puffs from their snouts—

  A woman with an odd, shimmering blue-green skin that resembled a jewel sat atop a throne that looked to be carved from ice. Her hair was a darker shade of blue, like the depths of the ocean, while her eyes sparkled near topas. Thin lips curled in a cruel, unsettling smile—

  A blood-splashed room with strewn body parts and torn tufts of women’s hair marring the concrete floor. Machines upturned and crushed. Somewhere in the distance, fire roared like a hungry beast—

  Harlow’s vision cleared and she fell from her chair onto the plush carpet, where her stomach revolted. Dizziness pounded her in waves while her body shook. Tears dampened her cheeks, the scene of carnage so fresh the sickening smells of viscera still burned her nostrils.

  Her door flew open without warning and her attention snapped to the intruder, Oricus breathing almost as heavily as her. He stared, not at her, but at the table. More specifically, at the canvas sitting atop it.

  She looked at it too, feeling the air rush from her lungs in shock. It was streaked violently with muddy mixes of color. Though she had no memory of touching the tubes of paint, their caps were discarded over the table with drips of paint dotting its cherry-wood surface. There were no discernable shapes or images, as though too many had tried to make it on the canvas at once.

  And like water trickling between her fingers, the images she’d managed to cling to slipped away.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Her voice quivered.

  After a few more moments, his gaze flicked to where she sat on the floor. His cool exterior had slipped back into place, erasing the blatant fear she’d caught before it vanished.

  Rolling his shoulders back, he answered, “I’m sure it’s just a side effect from your lost memories. Nothing to worry about.” He offered a taut smile that she didn’t buy for one second. Once again, his eyes dipped to the three red scars that cut across her collarbone. He did it every time he saw her—she wondered if seeing those scars somehow reassured him.

  Harlow shakily got to her feet, steadying herself against the table. She lifted her chin, schooling her own expression into one of complete neutrality. “I’m sure you’re right. Thank you for checking on me.” Her words seemed to jar him. That or the fact that he had come to check on her. When he turned to leave, she called, “Does the mating bond tell you when something is wrong with me? Why don’t I feel any of you?”

  Oricus blew out a harsh breath. “No. It wasn’t the bond. Marked don’t feel each other until it’s completed.”

  And without any further explanation, he strode out, slamming her door closed.

  ARIAN

  Pine needles crunched softly underfoot. An owl hooted in the near darkness—waking to hunt for the night.

  Just like them.

  They stalked through the forest searching for signs of his brother’s encampment. The moon was mostly hidden in the clouds. None of them needed the light anyway.

  A branch snapped, and Arian crouched, his hand going to the gun holstered at his hip. The others lowered themselves too, awaiting his instruction.

  Just an animal, he decided.

  Arian met Elentis’s gaze and nodded.

  As he tore deeper into the forest at inhuman speed, Arian’s heart raced with determination and exhilaration.

  I’m coming, Mate.

  I’m coming for you.

  No sooner had he thought it did the scenery begin to change. The trees thinned. A dull yellowish light that could only be artificial trickled through. In the next instant they burst through the trees and came across a large warehouse-type building sitting in the center of the clearing.

  Arian charged with ren
ewed vigor. He’d found it. His mate was just inside those walls.

  Elentis shouted a string of curses that he ignored.

  The outside was strangely vacant of guards, though an entire host of security cameras attached to the building blinked little red lights in mocking challenge. But he was too quick to be seen on any human device.

  Smashed, the metal of the steel door shrieked—split and curled in massive, jagged teeth. But Arian didn’t feel a thing. The adrenaline coursing through him was a potent cocktail that made his beast nearly impossible to contain.

  Skidding to a stop inside the wide room, his shoes squealing against the concrete, he felt dozens of eyes locked on him, each pair human and frozen in terror. Women of varying ages stripped to their underthings sat at long tables spanning the warehouse, wads of cash in their hands.

  The whir of the counting machines filled the silence until shouts rang out. Running toward them, brandishing guns, were men Arian recognized as some of Oricus’s clan, but the rest were human.

  He’d never have kept humans to watch her.

  She wasn’t here. This was a decoy. And it had been all too easy to lure Arian in. His heart thundered, a keen sense of loss slicing through him so fast, the change was unstoppable.

  The beast roared, his brothers and clanmates shredding their clothing and growing fur on both sides of him. Six men charged, their own monsters ripping to the surface before they all clashed.

  Arian tore through thick fur and muscle when he collided with his first prey. A wild snarl filled his maw, along with blood. He tore into the next and then another with his claws, dropping one prey after the other. More humans burst through the opposite door. Women screamed and dropped to the ground, trying to hide.

  But he spared no lives.

  Anyone working with his brother deserved to die.

  There was no such thing as innocence when it came to the elaborate web of crime and debauchery at his brother’s hands.

  Not the humans, Brother! They’re innocent! Elentis bellowed through their mind link.