Touched by Oblivion (The Fourth Pack Series Book 1), page 20
“Don’t you dare die! I forbid it!” he growls, so careful not to touch the dagger that’s still embedded in my ribs. “I can’t pull it out. Not here. We are not close enough to Reed. You need to stay awake, and I will dance for the last part. You are not dying because you’re a stupid good person and sat with her in her last moments. Heroes always end up dead, you utter fool. Stop being good!”
“Aw, you think I’m a good person.” I groan in pain.
“That’s it. Argue with me; be sarcastic. Call me a dickhead, but don’t you dare close your eyes.” He grabs my hand, and he begins to dance us away. Faster this time, much faster, like he is dancing to fight away death itself. Blood pours down me; everything goes fuzzy. In the blurriness, I see those strings in the air. All the colours are so bright, but the dark one feels like it is shouting to me. I should grab it.
“When I was born…” His voice pulls me from the depths of darkness, from the string. He promised to tell me something no one else knows. “My parents had tried for nearly four hundred years to have a child. No children ever came to them. They loved each other dearly, and they were good people. Good and kind rulers. They would have liked you and been very ashamed of me. When my mother fell pregnant, the Crone Pack rejoiced. They were so happy that they threw parties every day of my mother’s pregnancy. The day I was born, things changed in an instant. The second I was delivered into the world, every fire in all the packs turned black. Not just in the Crone Pack, in Maiden and Mother too. Black fire poured out of the birthing chamber, killing the midwives, killing everybody other than my mother and father, who were left in the ashes of the room, my mother cradling me in her arms. Black fire danced around me like will-o’-the-wisps in the air that still stalk me even now, and they never leave me. I have learnt to control the wisps over time, even make them move for me. Now you know. That’s why they named me Blackfire. My fire isn’t warm. It can be if I force it, but it’s naturally not. It’s like ice, drifting cold across the skin, almost like death was with me from the second I was born. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, I will not let death take you from me, Hopeless.”
“Even you can’t stop death. I’m s-sure you’ll try, as stubborn as y-ou are,” I whisper, seeing the black wisps of fire moving from his body and dancing down my arms. My teeth chatter. I’m so cold. The wisps nestle into my hair, and this time, I don’t fear them. The wisps are Blackfire. “D-did you know your uncle told them to k-kill me?”
Blackfire holds me closer to him, and I see we are near the statue now. Good, because I’m not sure I can stay awake much longer. His tone is clipped. “No.”
I believe him. I shouldn’t, but I do. Reed shouts my name, and I look up, pausing. Pure terror must register on my face as he follows my gaze. Reed’s warning is too late. “B-lack-fire, l-oo-k ou-t!” A hundred rocks fall from the very top of the ceiling, and the last thing I see is Blackfire throwing me to the ground, covering my body with his before everything goes black.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It has been weeks since the Mother trial, and yet I still feel the dagger in my chest when I wake up. My monster hasn’t come to my dreams once, but I smell him sometimes. It’s odd moments, like when I come back to my room after a shower, or I’m alone in the living room and drifting off to sleep. I almost sense him there, and the smell of midnight air lingers. I’m sure I’m imagining it.
Reed sleeps in my room every night, his big white wolf curled up on the floor. Blackfire defended me from the falling rocks, and we both woke up back in the cabin, my injuries fully healed before Reed had to help me.
As much as I’m glad not to be dead, Imogen’s final words are bothering me. She had a daughter? Imogen can’t be much older than me, and that means her daughter must be young, and the Crone alpha threatened to kill a shifter child. I knew he was a monster, but maybe underestimated his cruelty towards his own kind. They are his pack. Blackfire told me his parents were good alphas, and they wanted him, so how did his uncle become alpha? I wish I had learnt more about the pack royalty.
The reward for the trial is better entertainment in the cabin and slightly better food. There are board games piled into the cupboards now, painting equipment, a chess set and a bookcase stuffed full of books I’ve never read. There are a lot of smutty ones, which tells me even the goddesses like smut. Now, as much as they have tried to kill me a lot of times, I am still thankful for it as I curl up on the sofa, a blanket thrown over my legs. Tannith is hiding between the cushions as I read about a dragon who made himself human to be with the love of his life.
Elizabeth has a book too, on the other side of the sofa, under her own blanket. We do this daily now, and I love that she doesn’t try to fill the silence. Tannith never really liked to read books—not like me. I am glad that I found a friend who does. I’m lucky to have them both. Elizabeth’s head lifts just before the bell rings. “I really dislike that the goddesses gave him a bell to ring us down for dinner.”
I completely agree. Men shouldn’t be allowed bells. “I am hungry, though. I have to admit they are good at cooking.”
She laughs. “Anything is better than the night you tried to cook for us. No offence.”
I wince, remembering the black soup I made. It wasn’t meant to be black, but they ate it anyway. Well, Elizabeth and Ayan didn’t, saying it was disgusting. Which it was. After that fiasco, the men do the cooking, as Elizabeth refuses and they don’t trust me in the kitchen. If I knew the key to never cooking was cooking badly just once, I’d have done that to Tannith years ago. I sigh, closing my book. “Every time I get to the good part, aka the sex, I’m interrupted.”
Elizabeth pulls the book from my hands and holds it to her chest. “The last thing we need in this house is you getting turned on by a book. With how the heirs are with you…” She drifts off and my face burns. “I’m banning this book for the good of the cabin and the innocents in the middle. Aka Ayan, Tannith and me.”
“Wait!” I protest, chasing her as she literally runs off with my goddamn book. “I’ve changed my mind! We aren’t friends anymore!”
I can only hear her laughter as she runs too fast, and she is out the back door before I can catch her. Rolling my eyes, I go to the kitchen, which smells so good. The big dining room table is full of food on silver plates, with candles lit down the centre, and everything looks like it has no sugar in it. I’m officially having withdrawal symptoms from lack of cake or sugar. Or ice cream. Cake is the cure to all my problems and crazy feelings about the heirs. I need it. Or ice cream.
“Are you still hiding the ice cream from me?” I ask the smug bastard, who is sitting at the end of the table. Orion grins at me tauntingly. The ice-cream-stealing asshole makes sure to tease me with the pot and spoon at least twice a day, and disappears before I can get to him. Embarrassingly, I have chased him a few times, but he is too fast.
“It’s so sweet. It melts on my tongue,” he answers smoothly, licking his plush bottom lip.
My cheeks burn for another reason, and it has nothing to do with ice cream. He is too beautiful, and it should be illegal. There go the cake withdrawal symptoms again. There is no sane reason I’m looking at the male who hates me to my very core like this. This is Orion, the giant asshole who wants me dead. I hate him. I lift my chin. “Well, it’s made of ice, so of course it does, idiot.”
Blackfire whacks Orion on the back of the head when he growls at me, and I grin. There are roasted peppers filled with cheese, and they look delicious, and I eye them as I take my regular seat on the left side, and Blackfire sits on my right. Reed takes the seat on my other side, and he leans into me.
Things between Reed and me are…different. Every day, he has a question for me, from what my favourite colour is to what my hobbies are. Reed asks for stories about Tannith and me growing up, and I tell him the fun, less traumatic ones. He is getting to know me, just like he said he would, and I try to work out what to do about him.
“Hey, little human.” Reed flashes me a perfect smile. “What book are you reading and why did your selected steal it?”
Blackfire growls at Reed, and I jump. Blackfire’s hand wraps around my chair, and he yanks it close to his, our thighs pressed tightly together. There is a considerable space between my chair and Reed’s. Reed laughs low, reaching across to rest his hand on the back of my seat instead. The tension in the room rockets as Blackfire and Reed glare each other down. I don’t understand men or wolves, or whatever is happening here.
Elizabeth drops into the seat opposite me, next to Ayan, who is eating silently. “You should thank me for saving the weird pack we have here. That book was dangerous.”
I glare at her. Orion’s leg stretches out and kicks into mine, and I kick him back.
“Behave,” Blackfire murmurs, so close to my ear that his breath tickles me.
“He started it,” I mutter.
Orion immediately goes to disagree with me, and someone else must kick him under the table as he grunts. “Why does everyone kick me at family meals?”
Family. Pack. They all often refer to us as that, and I don’t know when we agreed to this. Reed and Blackfire begin to squabble over who puts what on my plate, but I’m so used to them doing this that I just wait, leaning back in my seat. In the end, Blackfire focuses on the peppers, and Reed adds rice, cut-up steamed vegetables and sauces. I shake my head at the both of them while Elizabeth watches warily. She has warned me more than once now not to let them put food on my plate, but I do not know how I am meant to stop them. Sometimes I think she forgets that I am human. It’s not like they can claim me like they can a female wolf with these offerings, so she is worrying for nothing.
We all dig into our food in silence, and only when I’m done does the conversation begin. I swear the heirs are all watching to make sure I eat.
Reed taps his fingers on the table. “There was only one more chosen left alive. I cannot find the fucker no matter how much I search the forest. There is no sign of him anywhere, but if he is smart, he will be hidden well. The way I see it, he dies, and we all go home.”
“What about her?” Ayan asks, nodding his head towards me. Her. He never bothers with my name, and Reed pauses. The wolves all tense.
“What about Hopeless?” Blackfire challenges, not saying my name either. Not that he ever has done, just that nickname. I’m highly aware of how his thigh is pressed against mine, his hand resting on top of his thigh, his fingertips inches from me. I swear his hand twitches, like he wants to touch my leg. Maybe I want him to.
“Don’t be a dick. He was just asking.” Reed defends his friend and smiles warmly. “Mere is human. It is always said that three wolves from each pack come out. They never said what rule there was for a human, and they would not have put her in here for nothing. I think she will walk out with us as another champion. The first human champion.”
“There is still the Maiden’s test to come up,” Orion reminds us. “That will be something to do with water, though these tests are anything but predictable.”
“Well, I have heard drowning is a really bad way to die, so could we make a pact for you to take me out before I drown?” I ask. It would be nice to have a backup plan in place. I’m sure Orion would even enjoy killing me.
“No,” all three heirs snap at the same time. Ohhh-kay.
Fleetingly, I look at Elizabeth, and she just shakes her head at me. No point in asking her—she will die with me, so she probably has a good sense of survival. Also, I doubt she will be in the trial; the Mother test didn’t bring her in.
We all help clean up in silence after my pact idea has put them all in a bad mood. We have gotten into a strange rhythm of doing it. I dry the plates with Blackfire. Reed uses his magic to wash away all the food and clean them. Elizabeth puts the dry plates and cutlery away. Orion, the spoilt brat, just sits with Ayan. The two of them seem like the sort that have never cleaned up anything.
Orion, Elizabeth and Ayan leave with me, and I make it halfway up the stairs when I decide I should get some food for Tannith and try to make her eat. She hasn’t been eating much, just sleeping lots and being snarky when I ask if she is okay. I’m worried about her. I pause when I hear shouting in the kitchen and hide by the door.
“You are getting too close to her, and what the fuck, Blackfire? We both know what happens when you leave the Folkland, and you can’t protect her then,” Reed warns, and my heart clenches at the silence that follows. “You threw yourself over her to protect her in the Mother test. I saw how you looked at her when you were dancing, and the chair pulling tonight?”
“You are a fool if you think I am not the only one who is growing feelings in this cabin. Your scent is all over her.” Blackfire’s tone is cold.
Reed doesn’t answer for a long moment. “So is yours.” There is a crash and thump, and I know Blackfire hit Reed. I should go in there and stop this, but I don’t know what I’d say.
Blackfire lowers his tone. “I know what I’m doing, and I haven’t touched her. I won’t, for her sake, I won’t. Can you say the same? You know what we have been planning for the last one hundred years, and if we go back like this, she becomes a weakness that they will use against us. Is that what you want?”
Silence. When Reed finally speaks, I wish he hadn’t. “She is just some fun. That is it. I’m bored.”
Just some fun.
Bored.
His words echo in my mind, and I feel them deep down in my chest. In my heart, and it cracks. I walk back to my room in a haze, grabbing a random book from the bookcase and trying to ignore the tears that are rolling down my face as I lock my door. Reed isn’t sleeping in my room anymore. I’m such a fool.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Prince Reed, Heir of the Maiden Pack.
Just some fun. Bored. What a fucking lie, and I know Blackfire saw right through my words. I just wanted him off my back, just for one fucking moment, and it worked. Blackfire punched me again and stormed out of the kitchen. I deserve it because I’m actually just as out of control as he suspects. Slamming my head back against the wall, I once again ask the goddesses why they decided to introduce me to her in the middle of the Folkland and make her so…perfect.
I am completely obsessed with Meredith Crone, but how do I tell Blackfire that I am willing to risk every plan we have had in place for a hundred years for her? He is right. A hundred years weaving lies, making a secret army, working together in the shadows so we end up becoming alphas of our pack without sparking a war. There are so many lives on the line, and I’m about to blow it all up for Meredith.
What is more frightening is that I don’t care. I only care that she is happy, safe and most importantly—mine. I want to mark her with mate marks and marriage marks, and tell the entire world that she is mine. Mine. Mine. Fucking mine. My wolf growls in my head, its possessiveness rivalling my own, and he has never once tried to claim a female.
Fifty years ago, we got Orion on our side when his brothers died, but his path to being alpha is pretty much set already. Orion might be the prince no one wanted, but he is all they have left. They will hate him, but he will rule. When I go back home…I can’t take her with me without starting a war.
Why don’t I care? I’m not the man who wants to begin a war, fight to the teeth, and drown in blood. But I would, for her. I’d fight anyone who dared to take her from me, and I’ve only kissed her once. One more taste and I’d be hers forever. Fuck, who am I kidding? I already am. She only has to look at me, and I want to drop to my knees and crawl to her. Beg her to let me have her, to see me, to love me.
Is this love? No wonder everyone is frightened of falling in love. It makes you lose your mind and be thankful for it.
I just cannot find anything in me to care about the consequences. The only thing I care about is the fact that she is not with me right at this moment, and it’s pissing me off how much I miss her when she isn’t right next to me. I told her I wanted to sleep in her room to keep her safe. The fucked-up truth is my wolf won’t leave her side and forces me to shift when I’m tired so he can be near her. I want to be near her constantly. I smell her everywhere, and she smells just like cinnamon and frost.
I need some air before I do something stupid. I rush outside, deciding that shifting and going for a run is the best way to work off my frustration over the little human that has me completely tangled up. I was not lying when I held her in bed, when I told her about fated mates, and I should have told her I wish that she was mine. I know it is not true. Blackfire, Orion, and I went to the priest himself and asked him where our mates were. It was then he told us that our mates’ souls are gone. That we would never find our mates whole in this lifetime and that he couldn’t help us.
I will not be finding my mate because she is clearly dead. Neither will Blackfire nor Orion. It’s not unusual to find out mates are long gone or dead; it’s the way the world works, but that sting stayed with us all for a long time. I stopped caring about wanting anyone for myself…and now I do care. Way too much. I am starting to wonder whether, even if my fated mate walked straight up to me, would I be thinking of Meredith?
Likely. She doesn’t even know that I’m hers and I’m practically on my knees for her, begging for a taste.
I clutch the necklace around my neck—small bones hanging off it of the men I slaughtered for daring to touch her—before I shift, letting the magic weave over me, strings of bright blue bursting before my eyes before I am in my wolf form. My wolf takes over with ease, the two of us becoming one. I relax back in my mind, letting him smell the forest, run through the trees, and begin to hunt our dinner. But he does not go far; no, he stays close to the cabin.
Close to her.
I am not the only one with a near full-on addiction to her, and no matter how many times I fist my cock, it’s not enough. I yearn for just her smell. I yearn for just her voice as she talks to me. I yearn for anything that she will give me. Someone might call me pathetic for it, but I nearly felt like whimpering when she looked up at me in bed and asked me to distract her. I thought about kissing her lips first, tasting her once again, and then finding out if her pussy tastes like cinnamon too. How the scent of her screams at me when she is turned on. I know she would taste so fucking good, and I’d come from just one lick.
