Chained to Darkness

by Raven Woodward

  Lefayon physically adjusted himself with a snort. “Many, many times today, I’m sure.”

  That got a few lighthearted laughs, and soon, the entire table roared with laughter, Harlow joining in.

  Within moments, they were all eating, easy conversation flowing, most of it about things like food and music. She learned that Lefayon loved instruments and could play almost anything. Once he’d finished his food he stood, collected a guitar from behind a stack of blankets, and began to play.

  It was almost alarming how easily she fell into a rhythm with the men. How enjoyable she found their company. She’d nearly been able to forget the hill at the side of the massive castle where eight men remained impaled on spikes. She told herself when the breeze shifted that it wasn’t their blood she smelled.

  Pushing away the rest of the food before her, her stomach churning, she forced herself to smile when Lefayon’s cheerful tune came to an end. She applauded, as did the others, though none of them seemed surprised.

  “Onto phase two,” Rasimus called.

  Everyone got to their feet, Arodis grabbing Harlow’s hand. They led her back into the castle and through so many twists and turns she’d lost all sense of direction until a staircase came into view. It looked to be made of marble, a mix of browns and gold. They jogged up the steps and stopped at a door that slid apart in different panels to resemble a yawning mouth.

  She faltered. “It’s never a good sign when something looks like it’s going to eat you,” she protested.

  The men laughed, several ducking in ahead of her while Arodis gave her hand a squeeze. “We’d never put you in danger.”

  In her heart she knew that was true; however, it was possible to put someone in danger unknowingly. Still, she knew it couldn’t be too dangerous if the others had already gone inside like it was an everyday occurrence.

  She stepped toward the darkness within, only a faint light illuminating her path. A giddiness surged in her as the feeling of familiarity took over. In front of her, rows and rows of seats led down, and stretched out across the wall was a massive screen.

  Clapping a hand over her mouth, she asked, “We’re going to watch a movie?” The scent of butter reached her nostrils just before the telltale pop, pop, pop of popcorn did. To her left, an old-school popcorn cart already partially filled poured out an avalanche of more fluffy white treats.

  The guys took their seats on long couches she hadn’t noticed before, all crowded around an empty space that she guessed was just for her. On her left was Geoff, and on her right was Darrow. A strange contrast. Geoff was tall and lean, the smart and silent type, while Darrow was a loud, bulky Scot.

  She settled herself into the small space which sandwiched her between the two men. Geoff rested a hand on her thigh to stop her from squirming. Her gaze locked on his, and the corner of his mouth tilted up. “It’s not Netflix, but I think you’ll enjoy the movie,” he whispered.

  Koen passed around buckets overflowing with popcorn. Darrow push one into her lap just as an image flickered onto the screen.

  Then the movie started to play in black and white. The names Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn, and William Holden appeared, all three sounding vaguely familiar.

  “Sabrina,” she read aloud in just a whisper.

  A few of the guys groaned dramatically, but Geoff watched her as the movie began to play. It felt like watching a part of herself come to life, yet somewhere deep down she already knew it. She laughed and swooned over the fashion. The iconic black-and-white dress Audrey wore made her audibly gasp.

  When it was over, she sat speechless for several moments. “That’s my new favorite movie,” she stated before tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

  A round of chuckles came from behind her. Rex said, “You told me that was your favorite movie. And now you’ve gotten to see it for the first time, twice. Not many others can experience something for the first time more than once.”

  The emotions that surfaced seemed to be playing tug o’ war with her heart. If anything should have triggered movies from her old life, that was it, but on the other hand the wonder and fascination she felt at seeing it was bittersweet.

  “This was really sweet. Thank you, guys.” She got to her feet, stretching.

  “Hey, it’s movie marathon day,” Arodis said.

  The projector simply flickered before music played and the title Funny Face appeared. She couldn’t help but smile as she sat back, letting Darrow drape an arm over her shoulders.

  “Don’t worry, we threw in The Avengers because no matter how manly we are, we can only handle so many chick flicks,” Lefayon added.

  Harlow laughed and the others joined in. Geoff rubbed her thigh, continuing down her calf until her leg was propped on his lap. He kneaded the bottoms of her feet until she was practically groaning with pleasure.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur of junk food and movies, spending time with ten people that made her body sing and her heart long for more.

  When they walked her back to her room, the suns were gone, giving way to silver moonlight that streamed in through the windows. Outside her door she paused. Rasimus grabbed her hand and spun her around, sliding his fingers into her hair and kissing her deeply. She forgot the others looked on until she heard a groan.

  “My turn,” Rex said, pulling Harlow away by the shoulders and claiming her mouth with his. Her knees went weak.

  Tadaj was waiting next when she and Rex pulled away.

  If she’d thought any of her men would be shy about sharing her or showing affection in front of the others, the notion was gone by the time Xalicur reached her.

  “Best for last, right?” he teased, then leaned down, tilting her chin up to meet him. His slow, sensuous kisses combined with the rough touches from the others had her will seconds from snapping.

  “Goodnight,” she murmured hastily, before slipping into her room and leaning against the door.

  She stared at the opposite wall, but her focus was on her thumping heart and the ache between her thighs.

  With a smirk, she tore off her pajamas and flopped onto her bed. She closed her eyes and let herself imagine what it could have been like if she’d convinced the ten of them to come. How they’d lay her back just like she was now. Her hand slid down to her clit and began to rub while she pictured them touching her. Kissing her body.

  Worshipping her.

  She imagined Rasimus taking the lead and kneeling between her thighs first. He’d lift her hips and slide into her so slowly she cried out.

  “That’s right, pet, take it all,” he’d growl, filling her to the hilt. She’d writhe and beg him to fuck her hard but he’d hold her still, thrusting in and out slowly—torturing her.

  Kel and Lefayon would be too impatient and would each claim a nipple to suck. She imagined Viktor appearing suddenly and filling her mouth with vicious, forceful strokes that she endured with moans and sighs.

  After her first screaming orgasm, Darrow would take Rasimus’s place with his extra-thick cock, savagely pounding her until he shot his cum over her lower belly.

  Harlow stroked her clit faster, using her other hand to roll a nipple between her fingers. Her body shook but she held off her orgasm, wanting to at least live out the fantasy of the others taking her over and over.

  Viktor would cum in her throat, wanting to be the first. But while watching Koen take his place Victor would go hard again and stroke his cock, reliving the memory of how she not only took his brutal thrusts, but savored them. There was a darkness in him that she felt within herself. Together they could be volatile. Like two beasts tearing each other apart with claws and teeth.

  Next, Rex would flip her over, his hard fucking pushing her deeper onto Koen’s dick. She’d cum again, her cries strangled while she clamped around Rex, milking him in time to spill his seed inside her. For some reason she wanted him to be the first to fill her pussy.

  Lefayon didn’t seem like the type
to shy away from fucking a cum-filled cunt. She pictured him sinking into her and groaning with pleasure. His finger swirling around her virgin hole, pressing in just a little and making her gasp.

  She lost control then, her back bowing as she came for real, her scream of ecstasy for anyone nearby to hear. Panting, Harlow rode out the orgasm, but already she knew she wasn’t satisfied.

  A bang sounded on the other side of her door and she jerked upright.

  “Go to sleep, Harlow,” Rex growled through the metal panel.

  Harlow couldn’t help but laugh. She slid out of bed, padded across the room to the bathroom, and slipped into the shower. Inside, her fingers ran through her slick folds. She imagined them fucking her again while she thrust her fingers in and out until she came once more. This time she kept silent.

  But even after she dried off and climbed into bed, sufficiently exhausted, her body craved her mates.

  HARLOW

  It was business as usual early the next morning. Rasimus arrived without Rex, giving the excuse of him being needed elsewhere. She skipped her usual breakfast, downing her collux root before stretching. Rasimus’s dark eyes watched her, the intensity of his stare sending a shiver coursing across her skin that she hoped he didn’t see. But he did, and his lips curled in satisfaction before he drained the dregs of his own coffee beverage and rose to his feet.

  Every inch of his muscular body flexed and bulged from the simple action. It was mesmerizing. His biceps were easily the size of her waist, yet he moved with the grace of a wolf. She was so fixated on his movements that she didn’t notice he’d slipped a knife free. It careened through the air toward her face.

  A shrill scream broke in her throat, and a golden light erupted around her. Blinking rapidly at the blade frozen less than an inch from the space between her eyes, Harlow heaved.

  She’d done magic.

  After weeks of being attacked over and over where Rasimus had employed similar tactics, there had been nothing to show for it. But now…

  The shimmering golden barrier surrounding her body vanished at the sight of triumph on Rasimus’s face. The blade fell and she swiped it from the floor, tossing it back just as fast.

  But he was a warrior. He sandwiched the blade between his palms with ease, the clang of the metal against his rings piercing the near silence.

  “What changed?” he asked in his gruff voice, holstering the dagger.

  She took in a deep, shuddering breath, attempting to calm her racing heart. “I don’t know.” That was the truth. But before, when she’d felt nothing tangible within her being, there was a cord—just a wisp, really—of something…alive inside her.

  When she brushed against it, a tingling raced down her arms, pooling at her fingertips. She looked down, expecting them to look different somehow while she wiggled them, but they were just her fingers.

  With a huff of frustration, she pulled harder on the tendril of power now humming through her. Fire burst from her palms, landing on the brand-new, plush woven rug beneath her feet. At least seven coiling, hissing snakes lifted their pointed heads. The flames had taken on the form of serpents. All of them slithered slowly toward Rasimus, looking even more deadly without tangible bodies.

  From a greenish blue at the tips of their tails, to the golden yellow that made up their heads, Harlow watched in equal parts horror and fascination.

  Rasimus’s gaze flicked up to hers briefly before focusing on the issue at hand. “Any chance you can extinguish these before you set your whole damn room aflame?” he asked in a tone of near amusement.

  Her rug smoked, smoldering to ashes in some places before the rest caught fire. The threads curled away, blackening where the fire tore through. The stone beneath charred black.

  She lifted her palms, attempting to draw the fire back into her hands. For a moment nothing happened, and one of the crackling vipers shot up to strike Rasimus. He moved, his armor-covered forearm taking the hit.

  The snake hissed, thumping back to the floor while Rasimus retreated a few steps to keep out of their immediate striking zone. His back was nearly pressed against the wall, but like the warrior he was, he darted and lunged in small increments, moving in a semicircle to give himself more room.

  Harlow tried again, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to suck the flames away from her Marked. This time, the vipers all turned with a chorus of menacing hisses. Her gaze narrowed on the beasts of her own creation. Surely she could command them?

  “Come to me,” she murmured.

  Each of them blinked in unison, their coiled attack positions relaxing as they wended their way toward her. Tongues of flame flicked out from matching, bobbing heads of orange fire, tasting the air. Stopping before her, they waited for her next command. Harlow was never scared of snakes, but fire was wild and burned anything it touched. Already the room was filling with black smoke, making her lungs ache.

  “Vanish,” she commanded, her voice stronger this time.

  All at once their bodies sank into the solid stone floor, leaving nothing but black stains. She focused on the smoke, willing it to dissipate, and little by little it did, making the air easier to breathe. A victorious smile lit her face, but the swelling sensation of pride in her chest was deflated by the sound of a single clap. Then another.

  Turning, she found Viktor leaning in her doorway. His toned biceps decorated completely in ink were folded across his chest, his steely grey eyes void of the animalistic lust she’d fantasized about the night before. The small tug of his lips into a smug grin made her scowl.

  “So at last the witch’s powers have returned.” His Russian accent was thick but—damn her for thinking it—sexy as fuck.

  He peeled himself off the frame and strode into her room, uninvited. He moved like a panther on the prowl, all lean, sinewy muscle, and stopped at the edge of what remained of her rug. Already he was several inches taller than her, which made the way he looked down his nose at her even more condescending than she’d thought possible.

  She was opening her mouth to retort when Rasimus cut her off. “That’s only a spark of what she’s capable of.”

  Peering around Viktor, she raised a brow at the much bulkier man. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  The darker, behemothian man was a stark contrast to Viktor’s pale skin, short white-blond hair, and brown eyes. His voice was deeper, rougher too, though Viktor carried his own lethal appearance in the way he always seemed calm and relaxed. In reality she suspected he would strike just as quickly and deadly as the vipers she’d dealt with. And unlike them, Viktor didn’t seem swayed by her authority in the slightest.

  He detested her, that much was clear.

  “He means most of us have seen what you can do,” Viktor answered, surprising her. “And it was impressive enough to rope twelve of us into Marking you—”

  “That’s enough, Vik!” Rasimus barked.

  Harlow’s spine straightened. “No, what does that mean?” she demanded, her glare boring into Viktor. “Tell me!”

  Viktor’s lip curled, but Rasimus pulled him back by the collar, his face inches from Viktor’s. “Just because you’re pissed off at the bond doesn’t mean you need to run your mouth. So shut the fuck up and get lost.”

  Harlow lunged forward, trying to wedge her body between Rasimus and Viktor. Once sandwiched between the two men, she realized her mistake. Her ass pushed against Viktor’s groin, while her breasts squeezed against Rasimus’s abdomen.

  Viktor hissed a breath between his teeth. Rasimus’s eyes flared bright green. Her own breath hitched; the hussy side of her that was bonded to the two males wanted to arch her back and purr. Instead she cleared her throat. Peering over her shoulder at Viktor, she said, “Tell me what you meant by my power roping you guys into Marking me.”

  Viktor scoffed before brushing his nose into her hair near her ear and inhaling. She froze, unsure of how to react. The second Rasimus released Viktor’s collar he stepped away. Immediatel
y she wished he hadn’t, but she refused to tell either of them that.

  She folded her arms over her chest and spun, meeting his gaze. “Why do you hate me? Because we’re Marked?”

  “I’m never going to fall in love with you like the rest of these twits,” he sneered. “You don’t deserve my loyalty or my time. You’re a piece of ass I can have whenever I want and that’s it.”

  Shock registered first. Then white-hot rage. It shot through her like a volcanic eruption. Her hands balled into fists, and before she could stop herself, she let one fly, aiming for his smug-ass face.

  He caught her fist at the last second, her sudden violent outburst causing a flash of surprise in his features. It was followed by his lips twisting into a nightmarish smile. “That’s better. Let your beast out,” he crooned, beckoning her on. “I don’t have fucking time for some spoiled princess.”

  Harlow snarled and faked to the left before sending a right hook into his abdomen. He leapt back, her punch barely impacting, and gripped her wrist to twist her so her back was against his front again. Grabbing her other wrist, he crossed it behind her back with the first. She was immobilized.

  He barked a laugh in triumph while Rasimus watched like a drill instructor—analyzing each move. A growl rumbled in her throat as the hot, simmering sensation of her magic clawed through her like a demon on the hunt. She released a burst of power, knocking Viktor away and allowing her to round on him. His grin turned even more savage if that was possible, eyes dancing with excitement.

  “I am no spoiled princess, sorry to disappoint, asshole.”

  His chuckle was his only answer before launching at her, a flurry of jabs and kicks. Somehow her body moved instinctively, anticipating him while she ducked and blocked, backing up with each attack until her legs collided with the edge of her bed.

  She gritted her teeth, leaning into him and calling on her magic for another burst of energy. But he seemed to brace for it, and slid back only an inch before lunging.