Desires of the Otherworld 2: Darkest Hunger Read online

  His cock pulsed as he slid his tongue between her soft inner lips, searching for the treasure within. Her ragged intakes, as well as the scorching heat that greeted his mouth, told him the fight between them was over.

  He took his time, alternating long swipes with short, intentional licks. When he knew she was close, he caved to what they both needed. He took her clit between his lips. Striking the tip of his tongue over the bundle of nerves, he sucked with enough force that she screamed his name as she came. The moment she was caught in the throes of orgasm, he lowered his head, forced her right thigh to the side, and slid his fangs into the vein he’d been aching to devour. She cried out again, babbling words that didn’t make any sense as he extended her release.

  Her blood was as woodsy and wild as the female in his hold, so delicious he knew he’d never taste anything else in his existence that would ever compare. Her mews and writhing, combined with his own desire, sent him over the edge. His balls drew tight just before his cock began to pulse. He came with a shout that was muffled by the flesh against his mouth. It had been too long since he’d allowed himself this. The contractions from his cock and sac went on and on, long after Willow had gone lax against the sleeping bag. He sighed as the loneliness he’d been shouldering for centuries vanished as if it never was, replaced by a feeling of belonging.

  He sealed the small wounds with his tongue, but he left his mark behind. Whenever she chanced a glance down or looked into a mirror, he wanted her to see the twin circles and remember it was him who put them there.

  Standing to remove his pants, he gazed down on the beauty resting with eyes closed and a sated expression on her face. Her entire body was flushed, and her chest rose and fell in frantic bursts. Before the day had passed, he planned a full repeat of what they’d just experienced. Tomorrow, when he decided to take things further, he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t be able to say no.

  Before the full moon rose, he would claim her as his Fated.

  Chapter Nine

  Willow woke as the day was coming to its end. She could feel the call of the moon, could sense it rising to take the place of the sun. Strangely, the wolf inside her seemed to be returning, as if it was slowly breaking free of the spell of the collar. She could smell things she couldn’t before, such as the twinge of sulfur from the hot spring. Lifting her hand, she willed her claws to lengthen. For a moment, she felt the burning ache that signified the change. Unfortunately, just before the deadly talons lengthened, the fire in her fingertips was gone.

  She glanced at Bridon who was busy packing up their belongings. As promised, he’d adored her body in the same manner over and over again as the sun rose into the sky, until she was so exhausted, she had passed out. He used his lips, tongue, fingers, and fangs on her until she was unable to think of anyone but him.

  Of anything but them.

  “Did you do the same thing to Aislynn?” The words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. She felt heat rising to her cheeks.

  What an insecure question to ask.

  He stopped and gazed at her. “Did I do what to Aislynn?”

  “Did you torment her sexually until she had no choice but to want you?”

  A shadow of grief crossed his face but quickly vanished. “I never touched Aislynn like that.”

  “Never?” The knowledge made her happier than she liked. It was shameful to be jealous of a dead woman.

  “Never.”

  “Why not?”

  “She was a lady and a mortal. It took time to gain her trust before I revealed what I was.”

  “Why not change her? Force her to become like you? It’s not like you have a problem taking what you want.”

  “The situation was different.”

  “If you say so.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “If I’d have known, had any idea…” He lowered his hand and stared at the ground. “No, I can’t say I’d do things differently. Things happen for a reason. If she were alive, I never would have met you.” He looked up and met her confused gaze. “The truth is she wanted time to spend with her family before she said good-bye forever. She knew once she was changed, she could never return.”

  “Our situations aren’t so different, but you haven’t given me the same courtesy.” She pressed her nails into the palm of her hand, attempting to stem her anger.

  There was so much misery in his gaze, so much loss, but there was also something else—determination. “I won’t lose you again. No matter what kind of a bastard it makes me. You might hate me at first, but eventually you will understand.”

  “Would Aislynn have understood?”

  He hesitated. “There’s no way I’ll ever know the answer to that question.”

  “Do you love her?” Asking the question took more courage than she expected. She didn’t want to be jealous of a dead woman; it was petty and ridiculous. However, she couldn’t pretend the claws of envy didn’t penetrate her chest and carve away pieces of her heart.

  “I did,” he answered softly.

  Happiness flared inside her, and she ground her teeth to combat the emotion. Why in Hades did she care if he was speaking in the past tense? You know why, a little voice in her head whispered. Despite her refusal to believe it, she wanted to be the only woman he wanted.

  “Did? Meaning you no longer do?”

  “I mourned her for centuries before I realized I had something to look forward to.” His gray eyes darkened. “You.”

  A dull ache formed in her chest. He sounded so sincere. “You expect me to believe your broken heart healed because of me?”

  “I don’t expect you to believe anything, but I have no reason to lie.”

  She didn’t say more as he resumed packing their things, watching as he went from one satchel to the next, admiring how quietly he moved. A surge of guilt hit her, forcing her to turn away. He’d endured so much and lost more than any man should have to. Now that he was given the same gift, she used every opportunity to keep him at a safe distance. As much as he’d given her the day before, she hadn’t reciprocated. Certainly she’d touched him, urging him on, but she’d refused to cave to her desire to drop to her knees, take his cock between her lips, and pleasure him in the same manner he’d shown her.

  Indecision struck, along with a sharp stab in the center of her chest. Tonight would be their final one together. Since they’d have to travel a majority of it, she wouldn’t be able to do anything except ponder what might have occurred between them. As soon as they made it to their next campsite and the new dawn arrived, she’d force Bridon to endure the ultimate betrayal. She’d flee into the rays of the sun where he couldn’t reach her, and she’d do exactly as her father instructed.

  How unfair was that? Taking her life and, as a result, ending Bridon’s? Thus far, despite his dominating nature, he had been a thoughtful and generous lover, taking care to introduce her to pleasure. She made a decision then. If Bridon would die for her, she would at the very least make sure that he had something to make his sacrifice worth it, some small token of affection that she could bestow before she did the unthinkable.

  She didn’t reach for her clothes as she rose from the sleeping bag and started walking toward him. He turned just as she dropped to her knees at his feet.

  “Willow?”

  Words weren’t necessary to convey her intent. She reached for his pants and quickly unbuttoned them. He hissed as she released his zipper, pulled his pants to his thighs, and revealed his cock. It was a thing of beauty—long and thick, with a deep pink mushroom tip. She’d never done this before, so she decided to start by swiping her tongue along the crown, in swirling motions beneath the head.

  “Fates,” Bridon groaned and wrapped his fingers in her hair.

  Encouraged by his response, she stopped licking him and took the tip directly into her mouth. His fingers fisted in the strands, tugging against her scalp, and urged her closer. She moved farther down his length and stopped halfway when he pressed against the back of h
er throat. When she had control of her gag reflex, she glided her lips up and down. Sucking hard, she pulled back, keeping her mouth sealed over his satiny-smooth skin. His low curse made her want to grin. A novice she might be, but apparently she was doing something right.

  He thrust his hips slightly. “Gods, love, I want this to last.” The fingers holding her hair were almost painful, but she found that it turned her on even more. “I’m not sure I can hold back. I’ve wanted this for too long.”

  As she continued, she used her tongue to brush the underside of his cock, and his hips jerked again. Then he started moving with her, carefully timing his thrusts so that he went slightly deeper with each pass.

  “Damn it, your mouth feels so good.” He began panting and thrusting harder.

  She continued moving back and forth, sucking as he forced her mouth farther down his cock. Her motions were intentional, each pass slow but steady.

  “Faster.” Bridon’s order was thick with lust.

  She did as he asked. The hands in her hair went still, he bucked his hips, and she felt a hot splash at the back of her throat. The taste was unexpected, slightly bitter. It wasn’t as repulsive as she thought it might be, salty and thick. Swallowing quickly, she continued drinking him down until his fingers loosened in her hair and he exhaled loudly.

  Reluctantly, she pulled away. Now that she had tasted him, she wanted to do so again. A pang of sadness struck, and she quickly pushed it away. She’d caved to her fantasy and had given Bridon something he wanted. That didn’t change anything. Thinking about what could never be would only make things harder on her in the end.

  He started to lower himself, and the glint in his eye told her he was eager to reciprocate. She stopped him by shaking her head and standing, offering a weak smile.

  “I want to use the spring.”

  He grinned, reaching for his shirt. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  “Not so fast.” She placed her hand in the center of his still-clothed chest. “You’re taking me to meet my nephew. Remember?”

  He released his shirt. “Anxious to meet him?”

  It was so hard to keep from revealing how much the question hurt. Of course she wanted to meet the child. If the full moon weren’t going to rise, she’d ensure she did so before her plan was carried out.

  “He’s my brother’s son and the heir to the Lycae throne. What do you think?”

  “You seem so certain of that.”

  “Certain of what?”

  “That your nephew will one day claim the Lycae throne.”

  Angry, she stepped away from him, striding for the heated pool. “Of course he will. That’s why I came for him. He belongs with his people. The pack means him no harm, unlike your kind.”

  “You truly believe that, don’t you?” Bridon asked quietly.

  Wading into the water, she turned to face him and narrowed her eyes. “Lycae weren’t the ones who killed his parents, which makes me question why you didn’t kill the baby in the first place or why you’ve allowed me to live for that matter. I suppose it’s not so easy to kill off your own Fated. It’s too bad you didn’t offer the same courtesy to your sister or my brother.”

  “None of my people killed your brother or my sister, Willow.”

  “Is that so?” she demanded, feeling her wolf come to life. “Who was responsible, then? Everyone knows it was vampires who finished them off.”

  Bridon’s jaw clenched, and he formed tight fists. It seemed as if he was fighting not to say something he desperately wanted to. After a moment, his fingers unfurled.

  “There is a lot you don’t know. As much as I want to tell you, I’ve given my word to someone else that they will be the one to share it with you.” He spun around, calling over his shoulder, “Take your bath and get dressed. I’ve left food and water on your satchel. We have a long trip ahead of us.”

  She dunked her head under the water to keep from exiting the pool and throwing a punch or two in his direction. Everything he said was a lie. It was a well-known truth that vampires had killed Micah and Savannah. Sure, her pack wasn’t thrilled when they learned their future alpha found his Chosen among vampires. However, given time, they’d come to terms with it.

  As she surfaced, she turned her back to Bridon and felt an eerie sense of relief. She was once again where she needed to be mentally, without emotions or that fluttering feeling in her chest to muddle her thoughts. Bridon Walkyr was the enemy. He always had been. Now, remembering that, she reached for the pride that had always been her foundation.

  Being Fated to each other didn’t mean shit. Once they arrived at their destination and she did as she must, it wouldn’t matter anyway.

  Chapter Ten

  Agony. The entire journey had been pure fucking agony.

  Willow had refused to speak to him, going silent once again, making the minutes pass like hours. He’d tried to engage her several times, including using playful antics such as tossing berries in her direction or telling her stories about her nephew that didn’t divulge information he couldn’t give. She’d acted impartial to it all, staring straight ahead. When he asked questions about her past and childhood and she didn’t respond, he told her about his people and his life with his parents before they were killed during the War of Souls. That interested her enough that she glanced over at him as he explained that when a mortal realm ended—what mortals referred to as the apocalypse—races would choose sides and fight to retain control of portions of the new world that would be created. Despite her obvious fascination with the concept of gods trying to rebuild the mortal realm in the hopes that they would find the good in man, she didn’t partake in what remained a one-sided conversation.

  Then at midnight, with the moon high in the sky, he noticed something that should never have slipped his attention. No wonder she didn’t want to talk. If she had, she probably would have given herself away.

  Her wolf was surfacing.

  Lucian had warned him that the most powerful magik might not contain it, as Willow was as powerful as any alpha. Right now, it was mostly notable in her eyes. Before, they had changed color and eventually returned to normal. Now, the irises flared with her anger, becoming bright in the dark. She didn’t have to speak to convey her emotions. Her eyes did that well enough.

  From midnight until dawn, she gazed at the moon. He couldn’t decipher the expression on her face. At times, she would lift her chin and close her eyes, as though the orb high in the sky called to her. When the moon descended and the new day arrived, she watched its departure with haunted eyes.

  Thankfully, they’d arrived at their destination with minutes to spare. He could feel the impending dawn, an ingrained warning that told him it was time to seek shelter from the rays of the sun. Once they made it inside the cave, he would remove the chasm that had broadened between them. Today he would ensure that when the full moon rose, she would be his Chosen in every sense of the word.

  He’d just dismounted when he heard a high-pitched whistle followed by a loud grunt. When he turned, he watched in panic as Willow grasped frantically at the darts buried in the center of her chest. Before he could make it to her side, he heard the whistle again—closer than before—and felt several sharp stings in his back.

  Seconds ticked by in slow motion.

  He watched Willow fall from her nightmare and hit the ground as he sank to his knees. Footsteps approached, but he couldn’t move to see who the attackers were. He did the only thing he was able to as his mouth refused to open, reaching out to Willow’s mind for the first time. There was panic in her thoughts, as well as fear.

  “I can’t move!” She kept thinking it over and over again, telling him what he’d suspected the moment he’d been struck with the darts. There was only one group of hunters who used a paralyzing agent versus a sleeping one to ensure their victims wouldn’t wake unexpectedly or ruin their plans.

  Poachers—humans who ventured to the Otherworld to harvest organs, blood, and anything else they could from net
herworld creatures.

  Bridon was flipped onto his back, despite the fact that his muscles were rigid. A haggard face stared down at him, studying him closely. The man reached out, lifted Bridon’s upper lip, and grinned.

  “You were right, Finn,” he said. “That one is definitely a vamp.”

  “What about the other one?”

  The man vanished, and Bridon cursed his inability to move when he heard Willow’s screaming in his mind as she braced herself for what was coming. She might not be able to move, but he could imagine she would attempt to.

  “Listen to me, Willow,” he thought quickly. “These men are poachers. You have to control your temper. Don’t let them know what you are. Do you understand?” Frantic, he repeated, “Do not let them know what you are!”

  Bridon knew the moment Willow was flipped over and inspected. He also knew she’d listened to him and was trying to reclaim some measure of calm. The man repeated the procedure, inspecting her teeth, and slid his hands down her body, which had Bridon combating fury of his own.

  “This one has to be a feeder. She’s got markings on her neck.”

  “Tie her on her horse, cover the vamp and toss him over his, and we’ll head back. We’ve gotta move. The sun’s coming up, and we need to make sure we have him under cover before it rises.”

  Bridon was hoisted up, turned, and slowly wrapped in a heavy tarp. It was then that he saw there were eight poachers total. As the world around him vanished, he reached out to Ian. “Ian.”

  It only took a moment before his friend responded, aware as he always was when something wasn’t right. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Poachers.”

  “Christ! Where are you?” Even across the distance, Bridon could sense Ian’s panic. They hadn’t had poachers in their area for half a century. The last time a swarm had ventured from the mortal realm to the Otherworld—to the forest that surrounded his castle—Bridon made sure he relayed a message that would ensure they would never return. Or so he thought. Next time, he’d do more than put their heads on stakes and place them in each corner of his kingdom; he’d scatter their body parts across the border as well.