Three days so far. I scan the room. “There are cameras around, aren’t there?”
Seth returns with a pretty blue flare dress and some underwear. “Sure, but you never know with Raphael if he is watching. He goes all radio silent when he’s hunting.” He arrives at my side and gently lays the dress at the foot of the bed since I need a bath first. “His wilderness treks, I guess it’s what he needs to stay…him.”
A sudden, sharp stabbing pain bolts through my calf, and I cry out. Jude takes off the sheet to examine my bandage. I wince and moan as he touches the area with tender fingers.
“You’ll need another round of numbing medication. My medical bag is right here.”
As Jude tends to my leg, Seth busies himself with tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. Wait, is my hair braided? I touch the braid, turning to him. “Did you do this?”
Smiling with a shrug, he admits, “That’s all I could do. How did you know it was me?”
“Because you’re sweet and good with ropes, of course. Doesn’t take rocket science.” I lean in and kiss his cheek.
“But not too sweet, right?” He winks. And I nod. Never underestimating him since the woodpile.
He touches his lips to the side of my neck, spreading tingles everywhere. It helps distract me from Jude plunging a needle into me. I grip Seth’s hand hard, and I don’t know what compels me, but I lower my head and kiss him.
He seizes the moment as usual, takes my face in his hands, and opens my mouth. He smells like sawdust, but he tastes like hearty meat. It makes my mouth water. But I know I won’t be able to eat meat for a few days. At least not that kind of meat. Oh, fuck me, why am I thinking about theothermeat? I swear I have turned into a horny, crazy mess. But it’s okay. Because I own it. And because I am as crazy as they are.
“I’m gonna marry you someday. You know that, Briella Darling?”
“Oh, Seth.” I tap his cheek. “We might be crazy. But let’s not go for delusional, okay?”
What we have, what all of us have, doesn’t need labels. It’s a wild, dark energy that transcends the laws of the Earth. There is only one law here, one rule. Raphael’s law.
But for once, I can meet a man, a king, agodas his equal and challenge him whenever I want. Sometimes, he’ll punish me for it, but that’s fine. Because I have a voice. Because I am wanted. I’m needed. And I belong. And what is the craziest, most unhinged, deranged, and fucked up to biblical proportionsthing? I know beyond any doubt…he would kill me if I tried to run again.
But I know this much: if anyone ever dared to take me from them, my boys wouldn’t just come for me. They’d burn cities, drown whole countries in blood, and build a throne from the bones. They’d make the earth itself remember the price of touching what’s theirs.
I shiver at the delicious thoughts and curse myself for my demented imagination.
SEVEN DAYS LATER
It’s been seven days,seven days since I woke up, and Raphael still hasn’t returned. Ten days total.
But every day, I carry this knot in my gut like a body bag full of fear. My mind won’t shut up. Images of wolves tearing him apart, or a bear cracking his ribs open and mauling his intestines. Maybe lightning fried him into jerky. Maybe he tripped and fell off a goddamn cliff. Maybe another backwoods serial killer strung him up for fun. No, not that. Not in a million years.
The nightmares haven’t stopped. Honestly, my imagination and I need to have a long, cleansing exorcism.
Stupid, stupid,stupidhormones.
Stupid, stupid,stupidheart.
I shouldn’t care. He shot me with a goddamn arrow, like I was the prey he claimed. Fucked me against a tree until I forgotmy own name and my soul came undone. He did it back in the mine, like I was the last breath of air in a burning world—like breaking me was the only thing keeping him alive.
Maybe it’s the closest thing he can feel.
I didn’t want it then. I hated it. Sometimes, I think I survived the Initiation just because I deserve to be miserable. No, not deserve. For fucks’ sake, I have more self-esteem thanthat.
Fate or some other force keeps sending me back to the fucked-up, damned monsters of this world. But they’redifferentmonsters.
I’m his. I’m theirs.
And for once in my miserable life—and his—I thinkhe’s mine.
And hehatesthat. He hates it so much, he’ll hurt me for my audacity to claim him, for making himfeelanything.
Well, tough fucking luck. Because if he dies, I won’t just be heartbroken.
