Page 45 of Ashwood (Wallflowers and Demons #1)

“Stop! No!” Her voice is raw and broken, but he silences her with a hard kiss. I hear it as his teeth scraping hers. Thick saliva drips from their mouths.

Behind me, Anna chuckles. ‘Tis a wet and cruel sound. “Such pretty noises, aren’t they? A beautiful song of desperation.”

Suddenly, Anna steps forward and she transforms.

I do not know what I am seeing anymore.

She writhes until she is no more than a reflection of someone who is wearing my face.

She is…me?

I want to scream, but no sound escapes.

It was her all along…

She is…a monster…

The Dowager Duchess of Ashwood straddles the maid, hands pressing down on her shoulders, nails digging in until the skin breaks. Blood trickles over her clavicle and pools on the stone floors beneath.

“Quiet now,” Anna murmurs. She bends down until her lips brush the woman’s ear. “Nirvana is coming, little one. You will know heaven.”

In one swift motion, a dagger is exposed. It slips from beneath her sleeves; nothing but cold steel. Anna’s smile widens with her crazed and wild-eyed expression. She does not hesitate. She plunges deep into the woman’s throat with a sickening squelch.

A bone cracks.

The brick wall hits my back as I reel backwards, shocked.

Blood spurts, hot and thick, dousing her pale skin and staining the crimson velvet beneath. The woman’s eyes bulge, then she gurgles as she struggles. Her life drains fast, dark and sticky, and pools beneath her head.

“Ohhhh!”

Anna’s eyes glitter with triumph as she pulls the dying woman up, pressing her blood-soaked lips to hers.

Her lips stain the maid’s as her tongue glides over.

She steals her last breath, even as Anna slips her fingers beneath her skirts.

The maid’s eyes widen, still alive as Anna plunges her bloodied fingers deep inside her.

It is then, from the shadows behind, the masked man arrives. He is tall up close. Broad. At least six feet tall. Anna turns to him.

“Come, love,” she says with a whispered voice. “I must have you, now.”

He pulls off the mask — and beneath is the Captain. The same man who was stripped of his command, whose ship Dorian commandeered. His eyes burn with rage but beneath that lies hunger.

My mind reels.

I do not understand.

He is supposed to be in prison.

He stands insolent, and cruel inside his freedom. “So, Duchess, they thought to lock me away and seize my ship? Quite the mistake, your husband made.”

Heat scalds my back. I clutch at the edge of the table. My heart pounds.

If I leave England on his ship, I will never be found again. I will be lost to the world…forever.

He steps closer, breath hot with menace as he nears. “Oh, my dear Duchess… you have no idea the coin others will pay to hear a young duchess screaming. But I promise, you will scream for every penny.”

He grins and his black eyes flash with sadistic hunger. Anna rises slowly, body arching, and her breath heavy with lust.

“Dorian. Come.”

My blood freezes at the name she calls him.

What. In. God’s. Name.

The Captain arrives at her side. And with a single hand, pulls her to her feet, her lips still blood-red as I watch her.

As I watch myself .

Hands roam, brutal and insistent, tearing fabric, marking flesh, spreading heat and wetness.

A slap fills the chamber as he enters her from behind, gasps, growls, wet kisses, the slick sound of flesh sliding against flesh.

Blood smears as he spreads her against the wall beside me, and thrusts into her.

Anna, wearing my face, calls to him, “Dorian… my love…spread your seed. Lash my cunny.”

His lips crush hers, tongue demanding entrance. His hands claw her buttocks, nails scraping flesh until she moans, blood and sweat on skin slick with desire and pain.

She bites his neck, hard enough to draw blood. Crimson beads trickle down his collarbone.

“Tell me you want me, Dorian,” she whispers.

“I want you,” he snarls, gripping her hips, driving harder, deeper. He closes his eyes. “Katherine.”

She grinds back, pressing him further, and as their bodies collide in an endless frenzy, the dagger hidden beneath her skirts slips free — gleaming wickedly.

In one swift, brutal moment, she twists the blade deep into the young girl's thigh. Dead, she lies frozen as the blade sweeps across her breasts.

The captain roars. He grunts madly.

The duchess laughs and presses her body against his, whispering, “I’m everything you ever wanted, Dorian — and more. You love me. You want to send your scalding prick deep inside me and fuck me until I am yours.”

His hand slips lower and she gasps, body trembling with a savage hunger, biting her lip to hold back a scream.

They collapse together and the chamber fills with coppery blood and musk of seed.

The Captain rips off the mask — revealing a twisted smile beneath.

“Tomorrow, when the sun rises, you will belong to me, Katherine,” he spits. “Bound by sea. Forever.”

Anna leans in, and her lips brush his ear, drunk on fantasy and ecstasy. “Forever… and always mi ne…Dorian.”

GAbrIEL

I step forward. The servants shift uneasily, but Anna holds up one hand.

“Did you think you could escape the consequences of your actions, Anna?” I ask mockingly.

Katherine freezes. It looks just like her.

She turns slowly, but her mask of composure is quick to return.

“You should not be here, Gabriel,” she says coolly.

“If we are both caught, Dorian will be most displeased, especially when the Dowager returns, and we are caught. He is a jealous husband as it stands.”

“Enough,” I demand. “It’s over, Anna. Your lies won’t save you now.” I lean away from the stone walls and step forward. “I know everything. Your butler, it’s amazing how much he can talk over an ale and a purse-full of coin. Skinwalker.”

She blinks, just once.

“You are mad!” She screams! “I will have you strung by your neck!”

“Your butler,” I continue. “It’s astonishing what a man will confess over ale and a purse full of coin. Breasts in jars, bones in the garden, old lace tied in red ribbon. And you. Always nearby. Always just out of reach.”

She laughs and then it comes, the beginnings of a sob. “You of all people… I thought you would understand.”

She lunges .

A flick of silver. A blade in her skirts.

I twist her arm and slam her against the wall. She grunts as the weapon clatters to the floor, and collapses beneath me — gasping, shaking, a furious, pale thing stripped of glamour.

“You…”

Her voice is smaller now.

“I gave them peace,” she whispers.

I say nothing.

She weeps, and even that I do not believe.

I shake my head and stare at all the bodies dumped into a few crates in the corner of a room, and jars filled with body parts lined up inside a bookcase. “All of this for what? For a love that never was?”

“If you help me, I will give her to you,” Anna tries to reason. “You can have her, just as you always dreamed.”

I shake my head. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

A person emerges from the shadows.

It is Dorian, and he carries the real Katherine who is lifeless and pale, in his arms. Over his shoulder, a bag is slung. Dorian throws it and it lands on the floor. The bag spills open and something rolls out.

The captain’s head.

Anna’s mouth widens in horror.

Dorian walks to me and I take Katherine in my arms. The real Katherine who is breathing .

She is without her senses, likely drugged.

Her wrists are still bound in iron manacles, her skin slick with sweat.

“Hello, mother,” Dorian says as the beast’s transformation ripples through him. Muscle grow as he stands tall and creeps forward. His skin not yet pure ruby red. “Do you still love me?”

She falls backwards, along with the staff who’ve gathered.

The Dowager Duchess scowls at me. “You’re going to let him do this? You, of all people? I am the dowager. They will hang you.”

“I protect the laws of mankind,” I reply without blinking. “And you, succubus, you are no human.“

The butler, we already have him in custody. He will soon be tried for his crimes. However, a deeper truth remains. Protecting Katherine means protecting Dorian and the Ashwood Legacy. And even the Dowager’s good name.

And as the beast returns, the door slams closed behind Dorian. Screams erupt from the other side, and then, only silence remains. Beneath that door, blood pours out in deep crimson.

The real Katherine remains in my arms.

Her skin is fever-warm. Her breath flutters quickly against my neck. One arm dangles at her side, the other rests limp against my chest. A shiver runs through her body, but she does not wake.

And still, I hold her .

I should not.

I have no right.

She. Is. Not. Mine.

God forgive me, I don’t want to let go, because this is the last time and the only time she will be in my arms. But in this stolen moment, I let myself feel her, trembling and pressed against me.

She smells of honeysuckle. Her skin, damp and flushed, sticks to my chest where her shift has torn. Her pulse grazes beneath my thumb where I brush the hollow of her throat. I memorise the sound of her breath and pray that I will never forget.

It is agony.

It is bliss.

And, I am damned.

If I were a lesser man, I would kiss her. I would touch the corner of her mouth, just to know it.

But I do not.

For I am honourable.

A squeak sounds and the door behind me opens. And Dorian stands there, his body clean of violence, naked, and still half-human. Charcoal eyes burn in the dim corridor as he returns to who he was before.

A mere Duke.

He extends his arms as we share the same look.

But, only one of us shall know peace.

I hesitate for one second too long and Dorian’s eyes grow dark until they are pitch black. With a resigned sigh, I return her to the man she loves.

Katherine does not stir. She only pushes herself toward him in her sleep. Her body knows what her mind does not.

And I watch him walk.

A monster.

Bare feet on stone.

Blood dripping from his arms and legs, and yet, as he walks, the trail he leaves behind rises into the air. In one breath, and another two, it vanishes.

He does not look back.