Page 27

Twenty-Four

HARLOW

Math was always my shittiest subject, but even I guessed the odds of tonight going as planned were not high.

Successfully escaping from the castle alive and unbroken; I was only about thirty percent certain that would work.

Getting far enough away in the hours until night: fifty-fifty, considering I couldn’t be certain how far away civilization is or how large this forest is.

But once he caught up to me? Told me to run in a voice I felt within the deepest part of my core, where a nearly forbidden desire bloomed? Zero fucking percent.

I had my shot— did I, though? —but once he found me, I knew there’d be nowhere I could run fast or far enough that he wouldn’t catch up again. Which is why when the strange silence is shattered by the single crack behind me, I know the game’s up.

He’s found me. Again.

Arms wrap around my waist, yanking me towards the ground. I think I scream, but the sound’s too tangled in utter fear over what Alec is about to do.

He scared me from the beginning, when he appeared in my bedroom, considering he’s a vampire intent on hurting me. But that fear was only background level, mingling with a curiosity of the unknown. When he paraded me in front of his friends, I wasn’t scared, not really, despite the numerous bloodsuckers who’d kill me without a second thought. Because I knew he wouldn’t let any of them touch me.

I think tonight is the first time I’ve felt complete terror towards him.

This isn’t him being mean or playful in my room or the cell, where all his games have been pointless taunts. No, this is pure danger in its most basic form. His fangs are longer than I’ve ever seen, his eyes a bright, eager crimson. Desperation drips from him—desperation to feed on me . He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that my defective cure will make him ill and kill him.

Alec slides his body beneath mine to take the impact of the fall, which I’m grateful for. The moment we’re down, his legs bracket mine and, in a flash, he’s crouched over me. I’m still, motionless in both anxiety and uncertainty as I take in who—what—is above me.

A monster. A literal monster, who doesn’t seem to recall the numerous times he’s reassured me he wouldn’t kill me. No, this is Alec in his ruthless form. It’s the ultimate reminder he isn’t human. He’ll hurt me without blinking, without an ounce of sympathy. He’ll do whatever he feels will serve his revenge needs.

I’m utterly fucked .

Alec smiles the faintest bit, but it’s nothing friendly. It’s the smile of a victor. Of the predator whose prey got caught in the snare. Of the shadows right before they encompass the light.

He bends, his lips brushing along my neck as his hand wrenches my head to the side. Panic spikes, my mouth opening to yell out his name or something to get him off me, but before the words form, I feel it .

Twin fangs imbed into my neck, right over my pulse, and blood gushes from my body into his mouth, a river of crimson releasing all the parts of me that have been hiding. Alec’s uncovering them all sip by sip, stealing them for himself, baring me in ways no one else has ever been able to.

The initial sting quickly fades into a calming sensation, and I understand what he meant by feeding being sexualized. I may have been terrified seconds ago, but with every pass of his tongue, I’m willing to be whatever he wants me to be so long as he doesn’t stop.

A moan builds in my throat, but releasing it admits what I can never admit.

And then, he stills and stops drinking. A line of blood runs down my neck and over my collarbone before meeting the ground, and slowly, his fangs unhook from my neck.

I should be thrilled, should push him away and take off. Maybe he’s feeling the effects of the cure he assumed he was above. Maybe, for all his talk about punishment, he’s satisfied with only this.

Eyes veiled with red but tinged with black—with restraint threatening to return—stares back, wide—shocked.

“No.” The whisper sounds more guttural around his fangs, coloured with my blood. More slides from the corner of his mouth towards his chin, and I find myself reaching up to smudge it, a trance-like sensation sweeping me away.

He flinches before I make contact, scrambling off me before he’s a blur across the space, pressing his back to a tree. The only movement is the subtle flare of his nostrils.

I sit up. “What is it?”

He twitches, his fingers splitting the tree’s bark. “Impossible. What the fuck have you done, witch?”

Did he transform? He seems very much a vampire still. I touch my neck, covering it with my palm to ease the bleeding.

“What have I done? You were the one attacking?—”

“No,” he interrupts in a growl. “No, this isn’t possible. Your fucking coven cursed me. This—you—is all some ploy, isn’t it?”

I stand, getting the sense I might be fighting for my life soon. “What ploy?”

He growls, red consuming the little bit of black he’s regained as he stalks forward before abruptly stopping. “Stay there, don’t move.” He moves, though, in another step before once again stopping. “Actually—no. Run. Go! Leave.”

“So you can chase me again? Game’s up. I realize I’m not getting away from?—”

“Leave!”

I freeze despite the command. He sounds so…so desperate. That’s when I notice what I didn’t earlier; the quiver in his arms and his fangs digging into his bottom lip. The way his entire body vibrates, the way he continues pacing towards me but stops despite every nerve and muscle wired to keep going.

Oh, Goddess. If I felt like prey before… No, this is…this is bad.

“Run north. You’ll find a road.”

He’s letting me go? This isn’t a game? Too unlikely.

Still unsure what’s going on, I let my eyes sweep over him, silently saying goodbye before turning the opposite direction. Hopefully I’m angled north, or at least somewhat close enough I’ll figure out the way.

A final peek over my shoulder shows him still in the same spot. It’s too dark and I’m too far away to see where his eyes are, but I feel them. My neck throbs under the memory of his teeth, my core tightening with desires unnamed. With a force I shouldn’t tempt again.

This better not be another cruel game and he’s actually letting me go despite everything that just happened. His strange behaviour has me doubting the truth behind his words.

Another glance before he disappears from view. He’s still there.

I run for a few minutes, obsessively checking behind me. Heart pounding and feet aching, I continue. I’ve been on them for too long, my body dragged down with exhaustion.

A wall appears out of nowhere, feeling like I’ve run into literal bricks. I don’t need to look to know who’s caught up, the bloodsucking liar . The liar who seeps desperation and fatigue, like he hasn’t slept in years, shadowy marks etched beneath bloodred eyes and a jaw clenched so tight, I’d believe he could break his own teeth.

“Harlow.”

My given name on his mouth causes me to pause. He spoke it like I would when calling on Hecate; with reverence, a gentleness so opposite from his usual malice. I miss the moment when he grabs me, backing me against the nearest tree, gaze trained on his bite from before.

“Alec…”

Ignoring me, he forces my head to the side, and his teeth slide into the holes he’s already made. The sting is so minor, then I’m right back to being swept away. Only this time, I cling to a shred of sanity that something isn’t right. I buck my hips and push against him, but he only pins my arms.

“Stop fighting me,” he mumbles into my skin before gulping deeper.

“Y-you told me to!”

He lets up again to repeat words already spoken. “You’ve fucked up. If this is a trick meant to trap or deceive me, you’re out of luck, Hellion, because now you won’t be going anywhere . ”

“You’re insane.” I shove him, trying to twist my head from his impossible grip. I’d sooner break my own neck, I think.

“Not yet,” he replies darkly. “But you’re about to make me so. You’re going to be good for me. You’re going to let me taste you.”

Do I have a choice? Those didn’t sound like questions but rather facts.

Before my next breath, he drinks, only a few sips before he forces my head to the other side, impaling the skin there. Stinging pain flutters away for pleasure, but it doesn’t slow the survival instinct having me fight, kick, and push against him, making no more progress than if I were fighting a wall.

Come on, powers. If there’s ever a time for you to return, this would be it.

“Alec!”

He growls before his fangs slide from my neck, but I’m anything but successful when his eyes clash with mine. They’re a red so dark, they’re depthless. A void I’ll lose myself inside. One hand comes up to my face, strangely tender, another revere.

“You taste fucking divine . Like my greatest sin. At least, that’s what you’re about to become.”

Before I fully comprehend his words, his mouth slashes against mine. He kisses as angrily as he drinks, dominating in his claim. His tongue slides over mine as his hand delves into my hair to control the angle. His fangs slip against my lip, but he’s careful. He releases my hair to instead rest his palm on the base of my neck. It’s there he feels my breathy moan, and his kiss grows frenzied—too frenzied—and for all his caution, one of his fangs nick my bottom lip.

He swipes his tongue along the stinging cut, blowing ragged breath against me. Him being so close shows the drops of perspiration on his forehead, the skin taut around his eyes.

Sweat. Did he begin the transformation?

“I fucking hate your kind.” His harsh words contradict his gentle hold right before he kisses me again, his tongue pushing blood inside my mouth. It’s sour and metallic but not gross. It’s almost right , like kissing Alec shouldn’t taste like anything else.

He releases me, and the tree disappears. The air grows increasingly cold, my head a convoluted mess of blood loss and overtiredness as my vision completely blurs. I’m about to reach for him, beg him to stop, tell him I’m passing out, when I’m abruptly a lot warmer, the sky is darker, and then my back meets softness.

I look around. Stone walls. Above, there’s a black canopy. An unlit fireplace along the far wall.

“My bedroom,” he explains. “If I’m going to damn myself more than I already am, then I want your blood soaking my sheets when I do.”

Busy making sense of our environment change, the fact that he just ran through the woods at some crazy insane speed, I miss when he grabs my shirt by the collar and rips it.

He’s quick, and suddenly my bra is gone, torn at the centre, and his mouth descends towards my chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth.

Fuck, this feels like heaven.

Regardless, it shouldn’t be happening. I push his shoulders, but my fight only spurs him on. His tongue massages my nipple, sweeping me away to a place where right and wrong no longer exists.

“Alec…stop.”

Shockingly enough, he listens, but not without obvious effort. He rises on shaking arms. It’s then I realize he’s not meaning to harm me. His next words, a whispered breath tinged with distress, solidify the revelation.

“Fight me, Harlow. Tell me you don’t want this. I won’t be able to harm you.”

I’d scoff if he didn’t sound so sincere. “Since when?”

“Since you’ve cursed me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ignoring me, he reaches for my pants. “I mean it. Fight me. Right now. Fight me and run.”

“Why? So you can chase me again? I’m tired of your fucked-up games, Alec.”

“This isn’t a game.” In a flash, he’s above me, his fingers pinching my cheeks until my entire focus is on him. He breathes out once, his exhale warm against my skin. His brows lower, a tortured plea for me to really listen. “I mean it. I can’t— won't —hurt you, but you have to make your intent known. If you don’t…you’re damned. As damned as I am.”

Confusion clouds me alongside exhaustion, blood loss, and desire. I shouldn’t be lying here. I should be begging him to release me. But tell that to my libido, who’s apparently making every wrong choice.

Alec releases my face to trail down my body, his teeth nipping but not breaking skin. He chuckles into my stomach before his nose presses into the edge of my pants. He inhales deeply, his rumble filling the room’s silence.

“If your blood is divinity, then your pussy will be fucking nirvana.”

He wrenches my pants down my legs, and my feet move to help, not quite sure of my own actions. It’s only when I’m left in nothing but panties that the fog momentarily clears—the realization of where I am and who’s with me—and I push myself upright.

He goes stiff, watching me the way a snake stalks a mouse before striking. Slow and calculating. “Say it, Hellion, or burn alongside me.”

“What is happening? What have you done to me?”

“What have I done to you ?” He laughs again, running a finger through the blood on my neck, smearing it. He gathers a few drops before drawing a circle around a nipple, my body heating with his sensual touch. “What the fuck have you done to me is the better question. Was it you or your ancestors who thought to curse me?”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That’s the problem.” With a gentle tap to my chest, Alec knocks me back to the mattress. “You don’t know, and you haven’t run. You haven’t begged for your freedom.” Two fingers stroke over my panties, heat building in the base of my stomach as my insides come alive. He nudges them aside, finding me ready. “For freedom, for me to stop…you haven’t pleaded to the side of me that’ll protect you above all else, which means I now get to act on my basest desires. The instinct that demands I claim you.”

I’m still processing his words when he shoves two fingers inside me, and my back arches off the bed.