Page 16

Story: Barons of Decay

“Was he successful?”

I shake my head.

“Speak, Daughter. I need to hear your words. Tell me exactly what happened.”

“After he forced me to…” I clear my throat, “he tried to do more. He pushed me to the ground and held a knife to my throat.” I nod at the ivory-colored knife on Damon’s belt. “He tore off my underpants and tossed them in the dirt.” I take a deep breath, swallowing the tears. I don’t know why I’m crying now when I didn’t cry then. They’re the first tears I’ve shed all night. In weeks. “He tore into me, but just a little.”

“You’re still intact?”

“Yes…” sweat rises on my neck, “...I think so.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and Regina fails to meet my gaze. I think he may reject me. Consider me spoiled. Rotten. Useless. My uncle will be furious. And I will have nowhere to go. Nowhere to live because I refuse to go back to that house. Never Again.

Finally, he says, “Check her.”

The men move as a unit, Hunter holding my arms and Damon bending before me, taking off a glove. Hunter lifts up my skirt, exposing my lower body to the entire circle.

“What are you–” I start, but Damon’s warm hands push my thighs apart. Our eyes meet, his the darkest gray, hard and stormy, and without warning he pushes his finger inside. The shock of pain is startling, like rubbing sandpaper over awound. I scream, fighting to clamp my legs together, “Stop! You’re hurting me!” I look over at the King, pleadingly and sob, “Please.”

“Enough!”

Damon’s rough finger withdraws, leaving me with that same empty ache that I felt before. He holds his finger up and lifts his chin to the King, declaring, “Dry as a bone.”

“Perfect.” He leans back, tension easing from his shoulders, and for a brief moment I’m pleased that he’s pleased, and my own body, tired and achy and exhausted, relaxes. But then I look up to the dark sky and remember the night is far from over. There isn’t a streak of sunrise, not yet, and that means one thing.

“Prepare the altar,” the King declares, “it’s time for The Claiming.”

6

Damon

It feelslike hours since I was back in that tunnel, waiting for the night to begin. Hours since the clock tower struck its twelfth, bone-shaking chime. I’ve never experienced pitch black like that of the forest, nothing to go on but instinct and desire, but tracking the girl had been a thrill.

The first second I saw the Baroness I knew she was something special. Iunderstoodwhy she had been chosen. Those big brown eyes, pupils a pinpoint in the flickering torchlight, felt like looking into a portal to her soul. There was something deep and dark inside of that small frame, and when I heard her scream echo off the forest trees, my instinct was to get to her. Fast.

First.

Hunter and I almost collided as we both ran toward the sound. By the time we reached her, she had the knife clutched in her bloody hand and a dead man at her feet. She looked wild–deranged–but fully in control. She’d just slit a man’s throat. HerBaron’sthroat and I had a feeling she would’ve taken us both out as well if I didn’t have my bow locked and loaded.

This bitch is brutal.

And it was obvious to me that she needed to be handled immediately. If she killed one Baron she’d have no issue with killing two others. So, I asserted my dominance on her, and got some much needed relief at the same time.

And fuck, she looked gorgeous with my cock buried in her throat.

You would think that would have been enough, but now I can’t stop thinking about how tight she felt around my finger when I checked her pussy.

That was a reminder that the Baroness is not for the taking. At least not her pretty, tight, little pussy. The King called dibs. I’m not worried though, I’ll keep her secret and she’ll keep mine.

“Each Baroness must be claimed and marked by each of her Barons,” the King says from his throne. “All the instruments you need will be on the altar. There are no limitations other than the ones set before the hunt.” He taps his fingers on the arm of his chair, the ring flashing. “Sunrise is coming, I wouldn’t waste any more time.”

Arianette’s eyes dart to the altar, but the Shadows have already jumped into action. One of my brothers stands before me and gestures for the knife. I hand it to him, the blood dried, and he sets it next to the matching chalice. Then I notice a stainless steel box and it takes everything in me not to respond when I see it.

The box is mine and was in my room when I left.

“What the–” I start, but the King speaks again.

Cloaks billowing, the Shadows swarm around Arianette next, hands grabbing at her wrists and ankles. She kicks out, that wild glint flickering in her eye as she fights back.Oh fuck. Hunter must realize it the moment I do, because we push our way in.“Bind her hands,” he says, grabbing one of the straps at the corners of the altar. The straps are made of coarse black leather and they’re threaded into anchors bolted to the sides of the table. We work quickly, understanding that if we give this girl an inch, she’ll take more than a mile. If she gets her hands on that knife again, I have no doubt she’ll cut our fucking dicks off.