by L. A. Casey
Alannah
a Slater Brothers novella
Copyright © 2018 by L.A. Casey
ISBN-13: 978-1912223022 | ISBN-10: 1912223023
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under S.I. No. 337/2011 – European Communities (Electronic Communications Networks and Services) (Universal Service and Users’ Rights) Regulations 2011, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
For Edel, who is the best soundboard.
ALSO BY L.A. CASEY
Slater Brothers series:
DOMINIC
BRONAGH
ALEC
KEELA
KANE
AIDEEN
RYDER
BRANNA
DAMIEN
Maji series
OUT OF THE ASHES
Standalone novels
FROZEN
UNTIL HARRY
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Coming Soon
Acknowledgments
About the Author
“Alannaaaahhh … I’m coming for you.”
I spun around, my hair a mass of thick, dark waves flying after me. I looked from my left to my right, wondering where the echoed whisper was coming from. The voice that spoke was uncomfortably familiar to me, but I couldn’t recall who it belonged to. All I knew was that fear caused my muscles to tighten, and my throat to run dry. My body was tense, and the hair on the nape of my neck stood at attention. Something was very wrong. I looked around once more, and it was only at that moment I realised that I couldn’t remember walking into my office. I looked down at my body and blinked in surprise. I definitely couldn’t remember putting on the beautiful white dress I was wearing. In fact, I couldn’t remember when I purchased the dress in the first place.
“Damien?” I called out, confusion gripping me. “Where are ye’?”
“He’s a little tied up at the moment, angel.”
I shrieked when the voice spoke directly behind me, but when I turned to face the person, I was met with thin air. My body began to tremble, and silent sobs climbed their way up my throat. I jumped when I heard a clicking noise to my right. My lips parted with shock as I watched my easel set itself up without a person in sight to perform the action. I wanted to turn, to flee the room and never look back, but I couldn’t. I was frozen to the spot as my eyes were locked on the impossible scene before me.
I sucked in a sharp breath when I blinked, and suddenly, I was standing in front of my easel with a pencil in my hand. A large blank canvas was before me, and as if I was controlled by someone else, my arm rose, and my hand began to draw on the canvas. I whimpered with fright as I fought for control of my body, but I was completely at the mercy of whatever possessed me. I could do nothing but watch in horror as my hand drew an image at an unnatural speed. It wasn’t just an image, though … It was a sketched film.
I had drawn perfect likenesses of the Slater brothers, and when they began to move, smile, and turn to look at me, my heart just about beat out of my chest. I watched as their smiles turned to frowns, then as their frowns turned to pained expressions as cuts and tears appeared on their bodies. Thick, red liquid began to spill from the brothers, but then it wasn’t just on the brothers anymore; it began to seep through the canvas. I watched as it slowly dripped down the sketch and splashed onto the floor, causing a puddle to form around my bare feet. The liquid splashed onto my white dress, decorating it in red.
The smell was heavy and metallic, and I knew it had to be blood.
“I think this is your best creation yet, angel.”
I fell onto my behind when control of my body suddenly returned to me. It didn’t hurt like I expected it to. In fact, I felt nothing at all. My breathing was laboured as a shadow fell over me, and apprehension flooded me. I looked up, and when my eyes landed on him, my lips parted, and my heart stopped.
“Morgan?”
Morgan Allen, who was really Carter Miles, smiled down at me, and his vibrant violet eyes seemed to twinkle in delirious amusement.
“Angel,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”
I furrowed my brows as I clumsily got to my feet and stumbled a few steps away from Morgan, putting some much-needed space between us.
“You can’t be ‘ere,” I warned. “Ye’ promised that ye’d go away and stay away.”
“That was when you rejected the Slater brothers,” he said with a wicked grin. “But you’ve made up with them … You’ve opened your heart to them once again, and I can’t have that, angel. Not when they’ve killed people close to me. Murderers don’t get a happily ever after, not in this story.”
My knees knocked together and threatened to give way at any moment.
“Mor-Morgan,” I stammered. “Ye’ said ye’d never hurt anyone … D’ye remember that?”
“And you said you loved Damien and that you wanted to marry him and have his babies, but that’s not true,” he replied with a menacing snicker. “I guess we’re both liars.”
“I … I do want to marry Damien and have his children. I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Morgan replied smugly. “I’m in your head, angel, remember? That means I know everything that goes on inside it. You want Damien, but you don’t want his last name or his kids.”
“No,” I said, wrapping my arms around my waist. “No, that’s not true.”
“It’s the fear in you,” Morgan continued as he slowly began to circle me like a predator. “You said you wanted to marry him, to have his children … but when you thought about that, you realised you were too scared to make it a reality because what if you had his babies and they died? What if you married Damien and he died? Starting a life with him was too terrifying for you to consider. You’re playing games with Damien, and you know he doesn’t like games.”
“Shut up!” I pleaded. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
“Oh, angel.” He chuckled, the rumbling sound echoing around the room. “You’re a little mouse in a big, bad world. Do you know what I am?”
I shook my head.
“The mouse trap.”
I began to cry, the sobs wracking my body until I was a trembling mess of emotion.
“Ye’ s-said ye’d n-never hu-hurt me.”
“We have both said things we didn’t mean … Isn’t
that right, Lana?”
I jumped about a foot into the air when a loud bang sounded from my left, and when I swung my attention in that direction, my knees finally gave out, and I dropped to them with a thud. Before me were the Slater brothers, all tied up, cut, and bloody … just like they were in the sketch I drew. Five pairs of grey eyes cut into me, pleading with me to help them, and I didn’t know how to.
“No!” I wailed. “No, don’t hurt them, please.”
“I have to hurt them.” Morgan chuckled darkly. “I’m a Miles, and hurting the Slater brothers is what we do.”
“No, please,” I begged. “Don’t hurt them … Hurt me instead.”
“You?” he repeated, a quizzical look roaming over my body. “You want me to hurt you?”
Damien screamed around the cloth stuffed into his mouth as Morgan lowered to his hands and knees and approached me. His violet eyes never blinked, and once they locked on mine, they didn’t stray. Tears flowed down my cheeks, and hiccups escaped my mouth, but my breathing stopped when Morgan climbed over me and pushed my legs apart.
“You don’t really want Damien,” Morgan said, then suddenly, he wasn’t Morgan anymore; he was Dante Collins. “Ye’ want me.” His smile was so welcoming, and I wanted to feel relaxed in his presence … but I couldn’t. “Ye’ want me in your bed just like ye’ had me there for four long months, workin’ every knot out of your body with me cock and fingers. D’ye remember how loud I made you moan, Alannah? Ye’ want me and not Damien because ye’ can control how ye’ feel about me. Ye’ had me under your thumb, but ye’ could never control how ye’ felt about Damien. Isn’t that right, beautiful?”
I closed my eyes, put my hands over my ears, and screamed. My hands were quickly pulled from my ears, and when I opened my eyes, Dante was gone, and Morgan was back. His smile was sinister, and I knew deep in my heart that he was going to hurt me.
“You can never get rid of me, angel,” he said, moving his head closer to mine. “I’m inside your mind, and I’m always going to be there.”
I whimpered.
“You’re mine, angel,” he almost growled like an animal making a claim. “You’ll never be Damien’s, not truly. You’ll always be mine.”
“Please,” I pleaded. “Just let them go. If you’re gonna hurt someone, hurt me. They’ve been through enough!”
Morgan blinked, and suddenly, a large blade appeared in his hand.
“Your request is a noble one, angel,” he said. “And I’m going to grant it for you because you’re precious to me.”
I heard Damien’s scream and the roars of his brothers when the sharp silver blade was placed on my throat and pressed roughly into my skin. It didn’t sting or hurt in any way, but I felt the pressure of it when I swallowed.
“You’ll never get rid of me.”
With those words spoken, Morgan yanked his hand to the right, and when I tried to draw in a breath, I found I no longer could. I felt something wet run down my chest like a stream, and I could hear nail-biting, muffled screams fill my ears. I touched my hands to my chest and stomach, and when they came away stained with blood, my world went black. The last thing I saw was a grinning Morgan mouthing one word to me.
Mine.
I came awake with a start, and my hands instantly went to my neck. I felt nothing except the star pendant necklace that Damien had gifted to me six months prior. I touched my skin, feeling for a cut of some kind, and when I felt nothing, I sagged back into the mattress with relief. Realisation dawned on me that what happened wasn’t real; it was just a nightmare. Morgan wasn’t back, and Damien and his brothers were safe. I turned my head to my right and relaxed even more when I heard my love’s soft snores. I couldn’t see him because of how dark we needed our room to be able to fall asleep, but I could hear him, sense him, feel him.
When I shifted my body, he moved in his sleep and wrapped his arm around my waist, tugging me against his side. I loved that about him. No matter what, Damien had to have his hand on some part of my body as we slept. He had admitted to me that he sometimes woke up, and for a few moments, he felt like he dreamt of our coupling, but when he felt me under his palm, he knew I was his. In a way, I felt the same. It wasn’t until I heard his snores after I awoke that I relaxed, knowing he was by my side.
Though after my nightmare, not even Damien’s presence could comfort me.
I lifted my hand to my face and covered my mouth when tears welled in my eyes, and a soft cry escaped from my parted lips. I knew what happened was a nightmare and not real, but it had triggered a slow building panic attack. My heart pounded so fast against my chest that I could feel each thump as if it were a wallop. Fear wrapped around me as tight as Damien’s arm, and I began to feel like the area around me was closing in. I roughly pushed Damien’s arm away from my body, and the action caused him to wake instantly.
“What?” he said, groggily. “What’s wrong?”
Without a word, I kicked away the blanket that covered me, got out of my bed, and blindly rushed over to the window. Pulling back the curtains, I unlocked the balcony door and opened it wide. The cool air that slammed into me felt like a smack in the face. I stepped out onto the balcony, but before I could touch my fingers to the rail, strong hands clamped down on my shoulders, and held me in place.
“Alannah!” Damien grunted as he roughly shook me. “Wake up.”
“I’m already awake,” I said, my breathing laboured. “But I can’t breathe. I need air.”
Damien stepped out onto the balcony with me, and when he looked down at me, he squinted his eyes as he used the street lamp light to see me. He frowned, lifted his hand, and used his thumb to swipe away the tears from my cheeks. I hadn’t realised I was still crying.
“What’s wrong, Alannah?”
I hesitated. “I had a nightmare.”
There was no way I was going to tell him the content of my nightmare because Morgan Allen was always on Damien’s mind, and I didn’t want him to worry. If he knew I was having issues over him, he’d stress out more than he already was. I couldn’t protect Damien from Morgan before, but I would do everything I could to protect him now.
Damien’s frown deepened. “About what?”
I stepped forward and pressed my face against his hard chest, feeling soft chest hair brush against my skin. I wrapped my arms around his waist and sighed in contentment.
“I don’t remember,” I lied. “It was just a bad dream.”
Damien’s arms came around me. He rubbed his palms up and down my back and kissed the crown of my head.
“We’re lucky we didn’t have sex before bed,” he commented lightly. “We’d be standing out here butt ass naked otherwise.”
When I chuckled, Damien gave me a little squeeze.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded. “You’re ‘ere with me, so I’m fine.”
We went back into our room, closing the balcony door behind us. Damien flipped on the light and then sat next to me on our bed. My hands were trembling, and he noticed. He kneeled before me and took my hands in his. I watched as he lifted them to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles. The gesture and being in his presence began to calm me, and it didn’t take long for my shaking to stop. I had been having nightmares about Morgan on and off for a few weeks now, and each time, my thrashing woke Damien. He never complained, not once. He would just hold me until I relaxed. He seemed to know that he had to have his hands on me and be in my space for that to happen.
“Thank you.”
Damien tilted his head to the side. “For what?”
“For sittin’ with me while ye’ calm me down.”
He raised a brow.
“Ye’ get this close to me and put your hands on me because it relaxes me,” I said. “I’ve noticed it.”
“Maybe I just wanna put my hands on you.” He grinned. “Have you ever thought of that?”
When I smiled and a few tears fell from my eyes at the same time, Damien’s smile disappeared. I hated tha
t I had upset him, but tonight’s nightmare really scared me. I couldn’t talk to Damien about it without causing him more worry, and using my own mind to break it down had never worked out well for me in the past. In my dream, I was the one to die at the end, but Morgan usually killed Damien while I screamed and pleaded for it to be me. I knew it was all fake, just my mind playing tricks on me, but the dreams always felt so real that I couldn’t help but feel genuine fear.
“I’m okay,” I said, still smiling as my tears fell. “I was due me period a few days ago, and that’s what has me all teary.”
I was due my period, but it wasn’t what caused my tears. Damien leaned up and kissed my tear-stained cheeks. I closed my eyes, revelling in the sensation of his lips on my skin. I inhaled his scent, basked in his presence, and prayed to God that nothing would ever happen to this man because he was my heart.
“I love ye’,” I said, my soul feeling like it was being crushed. “I love ye’ so much, more than me life.”
“Alannah.” Damien frowned. “Baby, why are you so sad?”
Because I’m terrified of being without you.
“I don’t know.”
“Freckles, look at me.” When I did, Damien leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “I love you, too. Your nightmare has scared you, but it’s not real. I’m right here with you. I’ll always be here to protect you.”
“Ye’ don’t know that,” I whispered. “Ye’ don’t know that ye’ll always be with me.”
Damien stared at me. “Did something happen to me in your nightmare?” When I couldn’t look him in the eye, he came to his own conclusions.
“Sweetheart”—he sighed—“please don’t worry about what might or might not happen to me. You know what worrying about things you can’t control does to your head.”
It made me overthink and worry and stress.
“I know.” I nodded, lifting a hand to wipe my cheeks. “I’m bein’ stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” Damien stated softly. “You’re just tired, and your nightmare is using your exhaustion to scare you.”