Chained to Darkness

by Raven Woodward

  Harlow blinked. “Uh…what?”

  “Nerd shit,” Lefayon said, and Geoff glared at him. “Basically, they need to fix their ships now or it’ll take them about two thousand years to get to Earth.”

  Her eyes widened. “How long will it take to fix them?”

  Geoff shrugged. “Anywhere from a few moon cycles to a lunar orbit.”

  She lifted a brow trying to make sense of what he’d said. Her preparations for the Solstice Ball had taught her a bit. “A tide’s length is roughly an hour and a moon cycle is a day, but what’s a lunar orbit?”

  “A month,” Kel clarified. “The moons orbit the planet even during the summer months when you can’t see them. It takes about a month for all six to fully orbit us. There’s fifteen months in a full orbit—which is a year. You’ll get the hang if it after a while.”

  Harlow didn’t bother pointing out that she wouldn’t be around long enough to get the hang of it. She followed the now mostly dressed men inside, letting them corral her toward her room.

  A thrill went through her from expecting the others to follow her. But only Rasimus did, the door shutting behind him. Chuckles sounded outside, growing faint as each of the men walked away.

  “What’s this?” she asked, feeling a little put out, but her tone was light as she folded her arms across her chest. “I go from twelve of you at once to just one? Some would call that a downgrade.”

  Rasimus stalked toward her like a lion on the prowl, his bare chest rippling with the movement, and Harlow fought to contain the rush of desire that surged through her. “I told you I planned to have you to myself. I’m sleeping in here tonight.”

  Her brows rose. “Sleeping? Together? In here?”

  He paused, a confused look contorting his rough features. “We’re mated. The others will likely end up right outside your door at some point tonight. They’re just giving us some privacy for now.”

  Her cheeks warmed. He reached for the tie holding her robe shut and pulled on it, the flaps covering her nakedness falling open.

  “There’s no need to be shy with me.” His voice rumbled through her, sending an electric current over her skin.

  “I’m not,” she replied, the words a mere whisper.

  He just smirked, dark eyes raking down her body in a way that felt like claws gently caressing. His hands came around her waist to turn her, so her back was to him. She waited for him to touch her, to stroke her.

  Instead, his large, strong hands gripped her shoulders and started to rub.

  A groan spilled from her lips, making him chuckle.

  “Are you sore?” he asked, and Harlow almost believed he was concerned for her well-being.

  Somehow, she wasn’t, but the only answer that came out was another breathy moan of pleasure when his thumbs dug into her shoulder blades.

  “Come, pet,” he whispered huskily, moving to scoop her up in his arms and lay her gently on the bed. She tilted her head back to look up at him, and though his gaze became flinty with desire, he twirled a finger, gesturing for her to turn over.

  She did as he instructed, and he climbed onto the bed far more gracefully than a man his size should be able to. He helped pull the robe off of her body and tossed it away, making her shiver. Stroking and rubbing her back, her arms, Rasimus sat upright to better knead her before lowering his attention to the back of her legs.

  For a long stretch of time she was content, the burn of lust cooling to a dull simmer in her veins. At least for now.

  Somehow the circumstances of her situation faded away. She allowed herself to be massaged by the man that had sent an illusion to her many months ago, making her believe he’d fucked her. The knotting of guilt in her gut didn’t come until after Rasimus had thoroughly rubbed her tired muscles, kissing her bare neck and back until her pussy grew wet enough for him to slide in on top of her.

  Only after he’d pounded her into the mattress, wringing several orgasms from her with his skillful fingers and glorious cock, did she allow herself the grief of knowing it was too late for her and Arian. Though those twelve men had betrayed her, tricked her, lied, and manipulated her, she could never come back from this. They were hers and she was theirs.

  Rasimus paused his bristled kisses in the curve of her lower back, going rigid before pulling out of her, leaving her feeling empty in more than one way. He’d listened to her thoughts, hearing his brother’s name while he had still been inside her. She winced—that meant they’d all heard it.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but what was there to say? There was no apology to give, because she didn’t owe any of them anything. Yet her heart clenched from knowing she’d caused them pain.

  Except Oricus, she thought bitterly. He deserves it.

  “Maybe,” Rasimus nodded, dropping beside her onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. He ran a hand down his face and sighed. “There’s nothing I can say to change your mind, but I think one day you’ll come around to understanding why he did what he did.”

  Harlow scoffed, suddenly unapologetic for feeling bad about betraying Arian. That meant that she was still a good person. They, however, were not; nor would they ever be if they thought that taking her from her mate, breaking their bond, then forcing twelve bonds on her would ever win her affection.

  “Get out,” she growled.

  Rasimus didn’t move. Then he sat up, sighing, climbed out of bed, and stalked toward the door. His long dark hair cascaded down to his shoulder blades and highlighted every ounce of muscle in his back. His pause in front of the door made her think he might speak again, but he didn’t.

  After the door shut behind him, Harlow closed her eyes, counting each tear that burned its way down her cheeks. Then she went to her closet and picked her warmest and ugliest pj’s. Climbing back onto the bed and slipping under the covers, she tried to ignore the scent of him on her duvet.

  The physical and emotional exhaustion of the day swept over her like a gentle wave, carrying her below the surface and into darkness.

  REX

  The hurt that penetrated the bond made Rex’s chest ache. He’d heard Arian’s name, felt the pain that accompanied it, and couldn’t fight the stab of jealousy. He wanted to go to her, but he knew when it ebbed that she’d fallen asleep. Besides, they’d all made an agreement not to play against each other and create even more competition than there already was.

  However, when Rasimus stormed out of the castle and past his position perched in the gnarled branches of the live fairwood tree, Rex jumped down, fists clenched. The tree that was half inside, half outside the castle had taken a liking to him, stroking him when he passed or grabbing him when his emotional landscape was in turmoil. It would coil him in its vines and branches as high up as possible, letting him take in the land from the highest point around.

  Rasimus didn’t stop. Rex sprinted up behind him and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn. “It’s only natural that she’s going to mourn him. If you punish her for it, we’ll all lose her.”

  “I don’t care if she mourns him, just not while my dick is inside her,” he snarled, his breath visible in a twisting puff of white.

  Rex winced.

  Throwing off Rex’s hand on his shoulder, Rasimus huffed off, into the forest.

  Rex glanced back at the castle, wondering if he should visit Harlow anyway. The creaking of branches at his back drew his attention. A thin, curled twig bumped against his bicep in what he’d come to recognize as a comforting gesture.

  “Thanks,” he muttered, lifting a hand to stroke the smooth bark on a larger, knotted branch that hung above his head.

  Wicked howls rang out in the distance, and Rex froze. Rasimus didn’t sound like that. Neither did the other guys.

  The tree line of the forest to his right shifted, the trees sensing something approaching. Rex’s skin prickled. He took an involuntary step forward before sending his senses out to hear any approaching threat.

  Rasimus burs
t from the utter darkness within the towering trunks—where not even the moonlight could penetrate.

  “What is it?” Rex asked, and another round of chaotic howls rent the night.

  “The bitch let loose her venomous dogs in Onex!” He didn’t stop and Rex took off after him, into the castle.

  When they reached Oricus, who met them in the corridor, Rasimus repeated what he’d told Rex.

  The fox’s silver eyes flashed with anger, dissipating an instant later. “So that’s her play after messing up her ships?” he asked, though they both knew the question was rhetorical. Why else would she murder the civilians so close to their fortress? When he continued, he spoke slower, as though tasting each word as it left his mouth. “Slaughter an entire city, ensuring the brutality will rest on my shoulders. Smart.”

  “Hurry, let’s go,” Rex urged. “They won’t stand a chance without our help.”

  He started back, but paused, glancing back when neither moved.

  Oricus seemed to be calculating what his involvement would mean, which made Rex’s ire burn hot.

  “It’s likely already too late, Almstad.”

  Rex’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? You’re not even going to try? You’re just going to let her win? Do you care about these people or not?”

  “I learned long ago never to care for anyone that could get you killed.”

  “Well fuck that, I’m going to try.”

  “I forbid it,” Oricus snarled.

  Rex paused, hackles raised. With a scoff, he rolled his shoulders back, then strode the length of the hall. Outside, he let the beast free, fur covering his skin while claws pushed from his fingertips. He roared to the night and dove into the woods, racing at a speed that even the children of the forest had a hard time keeping up with. The brisk air tasted of frost, mixed with the thick scent of moss and mildew. His paws pounded the leaf-strewn floor, infusing his blood with magic that pushed him faster. Though the trees leaned away, giving his beast the space to accommodate his large form, still their wooden fingers combed his fur—either in greeting or in warning, he wasn’t sure.

  Onex was just outside the wards, enclosed on three sides by more forest, and Rex made it through to the edge of the city in record speed. Screams gave way to gurgling cries only to go silent while a different set of voices rose to the sky. The flesh-eroded beasts dragged people from their houses, their maws dripping with venom and foamy, blood-tinged saliva.

  Children wailed as the wolves snapped and snarled their unspoken commands to the people fighting to survive. Rex sprang into action with a roar. The wolves whipped their heads in his direction, some of them with people still dangling from their jaws.

  He collided with the first wolf, earning a yelp before it swiveled to sink its sharp teeth into his side. He used his paw to whack it over the head, and it went limp. Three others circled him and Rex didn’t waste time letting them gang up on him. He dove for the first, claws slicing through blackened, decaying flesh and hard muscle. Its shriek filled his ears as he pounced for the second, paw landing on its throat. Rex dug his black-painted claws in, and its diseased blood bubbled up from the wounds. With a quick flick he severed its throat.

  He didn’t have time to turn for the third—a body collided solidly with his back, knocking him to his side. A burst of pain lanced up his ribs on the other side, followed by the sensation of liquid heat trickling through his fur. Rex snarled, catching sight of the beast that had gotten him. He was being careful not to let the creatures bite him or he’d be done for.

  Getting to his feet, he shook off the pain, and bared his teeth. Half a dozen more of the putrid-smelling creatures prowled out from around buildings. The layers of screams coating the air were dissipating, but he could hear a small cry coming from the ground floor of the complex nearest him. The door was smashed to bits in the entryway, and Rex guessed his presence had pulled them away from the slaughter of every occupant within the building.

  Two of the creatures turned, sensing the infant still inside. When one spun around to go in that direction, Rex charged forward, coming to block the door with his much larger body. But now he was backed against a wall—or rather, a small doorway—making defense a more complicated endeavor.

  The two wolves snarled, inching closer. Rex made the split-second decision to change back into a man. With his palm raised, he sent a gust of frigid wind at the creatures, sending them shooting back. He hoped that others hadn’t found their way past his wards yet again. Reaching for the bond to Harlow, he double-checked that she was sleeping soundly. When he was assured of her safety—at least for now—he called on the trees, tugging gently on their roots.

  A groaning sounded and the ground rippled like an earthquake. The wolves paused, looking down only a split second before great, thick roots broke the surface. They wound together, creating a wall that shot up twenty feet in the air. Rex sprinted inside the house as the infant’s cry grew louder. The halls were made from geretarium—the strongest Scondeladian-made metal, which he only knew about because Oricus found a way to manufacture it on Earth. They gave off their own heat in winter, and in summer acted like a refrigerator.

  The first door he passed was already open, the control panel hanging by several sparking wires. Onex was one of Scondelade’s forgotten towns, running on older technology such as wires. Blood splattered the doorway, arcing across the elegantly embroidered rug. He grimaced.

  The cry grew shriller, hurting his ears even as a man. Rex kept going to the next apartment, finding the entryway much the same, save for the smeared handprints. His stomach roiled—some were small like that of children. He tracked the cry to the wall and frowned. Glancing to the side, he followed the hallway, but there wasn’t an entrance to a room on the right-hand side.

  Rex doubled back and ran his hands over the wall, feeling like he might break through it if he didn’t find a way to the screaming babe soon.

  “I’m coming,” he called, knowing the child was too young to be comforted by that. His fingers tensed, the urge to dig his claws right through the sheets of metal too overwhelming. The material shrieked in protest, but Rex curled them in and pulled, ripping a sheet clean off the wall.

  Inside was a small, dark space. His eyes took a moment to adjust, finding a squirming bundle of cloth in a wire basket perched on the shelf.

  “Shit, how did you get in here?” He bent over and lifted the infant out, slowly. Cradled to his chest, it looked up at him with tiny tear-filled eyes, the cries turning to shuddering sobs. He hushed the child, looking around for anyone that might have survived and could care for the babe, but he already knew they were all dead.

  His magic wouldn’t hold for much longer—the frantic clawing at the roots could be heard inside the apartment building. He exited the structure, pressing the babe close, and whether it had finally exhausted itself or if being held finally gave it the assurance it needed, the child fell asleep in his arms.

  Outside, the roots were creaking with each hit from the wolves, their deteriorating paws clawing through, creating holes. He hurried as fast as he could without jostling the infant too much, back into the forest. It wouldn’t take long for them to realize where he’d gone. He just hoped his wards would hold up against them. After the last attack, Rex had worked to strengthen them further, but it was all just guesswork.

  The cold, damp dark between the trees made the infant stir, but it didn’t wake. Rex hoped his body heat would provide enough comfort since he couldn’t sprint. His ribs still ached, though the skin had mostly healed.

  He felt and heard the children of the forest tittering, watching him walk at a pace just faster than a human. The trees stirred with unrest.

  Rex tightened his jaw. “Do not seek to block me, Children of the Forest, I carry an innocent. Do not forget your bargain with the prince.”

  A chittering came from his right, then his left, and Rex slowed. Dozens of glowing eyes blinked around in the darkness, most of them up in the b
ranches.

  “Silly Earthian, don’t you know there’s no such thing as an innocent?” whispered a voice like sand scraping over a dune.

  He clutched the babe a little tighter. “For now, it is.”

  A different voice giggled. “Then give it to us so we can raise it to respect the forest.”

  Rex let his fangs descend and hissed. “It will be raised with its own kind.”

  More giggles erupted. He forced himself to keep walking, even when glowing eyes appeared underfoot. Yet all he felt were the crunching leaves and soft soil dipping beneath his weight. A few branches caressed his back and tugged at his legs, but neither the trees nor its tricky inhabitants stopped him.

  When he broke through the trees, a sigh of relief escaped him. The castle was silent. Oricus stood outside, a sliver of moonlight slicing across the sharp plane of his jaw highlighting his fox-like features. Rex stopped before his leader as the infant began to stir.

  Oricus’s lip curled. “What have you done?”

  “The parents are dead.”

  “And you expect to raise it here when a war is about to begin?” Oricus shot back.

  Rex sighed. “No. One of the servants will no doubt be able to care for it.”

  Oricus glared at the child in disgust but he didn’t stop Rex from heading down into the servant’s chambers. After he explained to them that Onex had perished, several of the women agreed to care for the infant, taking the bundle of cloth just as the babe began to cry again. Its tiny violet eyes blinked up at them with a misery Rex felt keenly.

  He left the sounds of shushing and then suckling. It would be cared for. There was no reason to stick around, but he hoped he’d be able to check in on the child as it grew. After showering, he dropped his sore body to the floor outside Harlow’s room, where four of the guys were already asleep propped against the wall.

  With the comfort of her presence near, sleep grabbed hold of him quickly.

  HARLOW