The Sacrifice: A Paranormal MC Romance

by Jessica Gadziala

  "But I don't. When the shifters found me, and took me back to their home, all I thought about was you," I admitted, the admission making heat creep up the sides of my neck.

  "It makes no sense," he said, shaking his head. "Goes against both our natures."

  "I know."

  "And yet..."

  "And yet," I agreed, taking a tentative step closer.

  "Can't make you any kind of promises, babe," he told me, closing the distance, his hands sliding around my hips. "I don't have the control here that you'd like me to have."

  "None?" I pressed, chin dipping toward my chest, making my forehead brush his chest. "Not even that I will live through this?" I asked. "Whatever this is. Whatever you all want with me."

  "Unless shit goes sideways," he started his upper body folding forward, letting his face press into my hair, taking a deep breath, "you are going to live through it."

  "Okay," I agreed, nodding.

  "Okay? Staying alive—that is all you want?"

  "Well, no. I want other things," I said, lips curving up even though he couldn't see my smile.

  "Well, those things, I can sure as fuck give you," he told me, voice deep, full of promises. "But not right now," he clarified. "I need to go do some damage control. And you have to stay down here."

  "Okay," I agreed, nodding.

  "I'll bring you something to eat after I deal with Ace."

  "Will I be able to come back to your room again?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

  "Depends."

  "On?"

  "How sad you will be that you can't be there," he told me, pulling back a bit too smirk down at me.

  "Oh, right," I agreed, smile tugging at my lips. "I have a feeling if I am stuck down here for more than a day or two, things might start to get very wet outside."

  "Thatta girl," he agreed, fingers moving out to snag my chin, yanking it up, then sealing his lips over mine.

  It was meant, I thought, to be an 'until later' kiss, but as soon as our lips met, a fire burned, raged, consumed, until I was clinging to him, and his hands were sinking into my behind, yanking me forward, crushing me against his hardness, making that heat bloom in my core and move outward until it consumed me completely.

  My hands slid under his shirt, teased over his hot skin, grazing over the multitude of scars there—raised and smoother than the rest of his skin. I wanted to know their stories, fully aware of the ugliness those tales likely held.

  Maybe I wasn't as light as I was supposed to be, as I had been raised to be. I should have rejected everything about the cruelty etched on his skin. Yet there was no denying that I found myself inexplicably fascinated.

  The deep sound of a throat clearing was a cold bath raining down on us, making us break apart, turning before we could even draw breaths.

  There was Minos, arms folded, cold gaze on Lycus, not even sparing me a glance.

  "Shit isn't complicated enough?" he asked, shaking his head. "You know how this is going to go," he added, being deliberately vague about, I imagined, my likely future.

  "It's not your business," Ly shot back.

  "No," Minos agreed, sighing so deeply, his massive chest look deflated. "But if Ace loses his shit, we are all going to suffer. Maybe especially her. You might want to keep that in mind," he said, turning to go up the stairs, still not looking at me. "Ace wants a meeting. That's why I came down here," he added before disappearing.

  "I have to go," Ly told me, taking a deep breath.

  "Yes," I agreed, nodding.

  "I will get some food down here after," he said, walking toward the stairs, heading up without another word, or even a glance.

  Alone, I fell back on the bed, pressing a hand to my beating heart, finding myself confused by the complexity of feelings there. The battle with my old beliefs, and my burgeoning new ones. The resentment and anger I felt toward the demons, with the softness and heat I felt for Lycus.

  There had never been any existential crises in my life. I had always known who I was, who my family was, what was expected of me, and how my future would go.

  There was nothing to question.

  Because there was no other life to live.

  Now, though, everything I had known, thought I had wanted, was torn from me, leaving me unsure of who I was, what I might become, or what was expected of me.

  I felt a heady mix of fear and uncertainty and excitement and hope.

  And, perhaps above all, powerlessness.

  But I wasn't powerless.

  That thought was like an electric shock to my system, a jolt that buzzed through every nerve ending.

  I wasn't powerless.

  The demons didn't take me because they wanted to hurt my coven. They didn't seem to take me to hurt me either, to take pleasure in my pain.

  No.

  Judging by Ly's confirmation that I wouldn't be killed, the fact that no one had hurt me—unless their disregard counted—, the way they had come to take me back from the shifters, and then, of course, the collection of strange research in Ace's room, it all added up to something unexpected.

  They needed me.

  They needed me.

  Because of who I was.

  Because of what they thought I could do.

  A task, I imagined, the other Sacrifices before me had failed.

  A task that Lycus appeared to think I could accomplish. That was why he'd wanted me to keep my new power to myself. Because maybe I was the one. Who could give them what they wanted.

  I had some sort of power and control in this new world I found myself in.

  I just needed to understand what that power was, what they wanted from me, how I could give them that, possibly in exchange for my freedom.

  I had no idea what freedom would mean, how I could survive in this new world, but that was all something I would have to figure out.

  Once I got free from whatever ties were binding me here.

  Free, I wouldn't be so dependent upon these demons. I would have my own agency. I could build my own life.

  Did a part of me that I didn't fully understand yet want Lycus to be in that new life?

  Yes.

  But on my own terms.

  Without me feeling like he controlled me.

  I had no idea if he would still want me then.

  But time would tell.

  I just had to wait.

  And snoop.

  Figure out what Ace was researching.

  Then bargain for my freedom.

  Come what may.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lycus

  Of all the people who could have found out about me and Lenore, Minos was likely the best person.

  He kept to himself.

  If he judged, he did it mostly silently, as he did all things.

  He had nothing to say as I walked in the kitchen behind him, grabbing a coffee before joining the others in the study.

  Ace had mostly pulled himself back together. His eyes still blazed redder than they typically did on the human realm, but he was more man than beast.

  He went on for over an hour about Lenore, about her unexpected power, about how she might be the one, how he might be able to push up the timeline, what everyone's thoughts were on that, if the witch was ready, how we could coerce her into being ready.

  He was desperate.

  More so than he had been when we'd gotten the newest Sacrifice, likely thinking she would be a disappointment like all of the rest.

  But believing there was a chance she was different, that she could handle it, that gave him something truly dangerous.

  Hope.

  After so many generations of the same old shit, hope was something that could destroy a man like Ace if it was ripped away from him.

  "Maybe give her some freedom," Red suggested when we all stayed silent, most of all me, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that I knew more about our current Sacrifice than I should have.

  "Why?" Ace asked, needing more data, always the ty
pe to compile facts, make sure he had the whole picture.

  "Look, I know the method has always been to toss them in the basement, give them the bare essentials, and wait until their spirit is broken enough to use them. But maybe we have been misguided in that. Maybe they are more powerful when they have some control over their own lives. Look what she did back at the shifter clubhouse. Wanting to make a decision, wanting to come back to the devils she knows rather than stay with those glorified dogs, her power surged, right? Maybe that is the key. Maybe if we give them the freedom to move around, to make up their own minds about things, their powers are more stable and strong."

  "It's worth a shot," Ace decided, shrugging. "If we can be sure she won't run off."

  "Even though she left," Aram said, shrugging, "she willingly came back. I don't think she was trying to leave. She was just craving, like Red said, some freedom. She was raised in the woods, so maybe she wanted to be reconnected to it again."

  "Maybe the illusion of freedom," Ace compromised. "She can move around, go into the woods, maybe even go into town, see the world, but not alone. I don't want her sneaking off. Or getting snatched up by anyone else who might sense her power. We will have to guard her."

  And that was how I became the personal bodyguard to the witch.

  The first few days, everyone took turns. I didn't want to seem too eager to be with her as she was given free rein over her own life, choosing a room on the second floor, going into the woods to collect wild mushrooms and the last fruits on the berry bushes, sometimes just sitting around, staring at nature for hours.

  But, as I expected, that guard duty grew old fast for the others who wanted to go back to having the freedom with their own days.

  Minos, I suspected, stepped back more so because he knew I wanted to step up. Whether he thought it was a good idea or not.

  So step up I did.

  Within five days, I had become Lenore's unofficial guard, something we both tried to act indifferent about, if not outright hostile.

  I sneered at her.

  She snapped at me.

  But as soon as we broke into the woods on her nearly daily walks, I was slamming her back against a tree, my lips crashing down on hers.

  We explored with hands, with mouths, but things hadn't progressed beyond what we'd already done yet. Partly because of paranoia about being caught, and partly because of my reticence to go there.

  I wasn't a soft man.

  I didn't do flowers and candy and sweetness.

  Yet I found myself wishing they were things I was capable of because some part of me believed she wanted that, she was due that.

  I didn't think of sex as special.

  It was a function of the bodies.

  It was a fun way to spend some time.

  But I'd been on this plane, around the humans, long enough to know that first times often were considered something special, something memorable.

  I didn't pretend to understand my compulsion to have it be that way for Lenore, but it was there, it was a factor, and so a rushed quickie against a tree limb just didn't exactly feel right.

  That said, the need to be inside her was like a flame inside that refused to be extinguished. Each passing day, it got stronger and stronger.

  Even as Ace perfected his plans, as he got closer to being sure, being ready to approach Lenore with what would change her life forever.

  And I was too chickenshit to tell her, to explain to her what was about to happen, how it might change things, and how it would likely impact what she and I had going.

  "Where are we going?" she asked as her foot caught in some underbrush, making her hand shoot out to grab my arm.

  She didn't pull it away even when she righted herself.

  And I didn't shrug it off either.

  There was something right in the feeling of us touching. It was straight out of some sappy fucking romance, but it felt wilder, more primal, like there was something deep within me that responded to her. Not a soul, of course, seeing as I didn't have one. But a softness I didn't know existed, a protectiveness I never would have thought I was capable of.

  Mine mine mine that little voice inside me said, only it was getting louder and louder, harder and harder to ignore.

  I didn't grasp it on a rational level, but that was what she was.

  Mine.

  And I wanted her to be mine in every way she could be.

  Which was where we were going.

  To something I'd gotten up at dawn to prepare.

  Something special.

  Something memorable.

  I knew she was ready.

  When it came to putting a stop to things before they went too far, I'd been the one laying on the brakes, having to untangle myself from her as she tried to tell me she was ready, she wanted it, she wanted me.

  I didn't realize how much self-control I had until I'd turned her down day after day, night after night when she crept into my room, curled into my body, climbed on top of it, whispering the wicked shit I'd—in recurring bouts of masochism—taught her to say.

  Luckily enough, after two or three good orgasms, her mind—along with her body—turned to mush, giving me a chance to rein in my own need to finally be inside her.

  It would all be worth it, though, I reminded myself as we followed the trickling creek until I saw our destination.

  A massive, ancient Weeping Willow tree, growing close to the water as they often liked to do. Spread beneath was a pile of thick blankets, softening the hard ground, a picnic basket, and a bunch of flowers I'd gathered on my walk in.

  "Oh." The breath rushed out of Lenore as she pulled to a stop, taking in the scene, seeming to understand the significance as she turned to me, smile sweet, eyes soft. "Yes, finally," she said, reaching up to grab the sides of my face, drawing me down, pressing her lips to mine.

  "You're sure?" I asked, pulling back slightly.

  "Absolutely."

  Thank fuck.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lenore

  He'd set a scene.

  I'd practically been begging him for days, my ego getting bruised each time he brushed off my desire to have him inside me. I knew he wanted me too, so I couldn't fathom what was making him pull away, push me away, tell me it wasn't right yet.

  Because he wanted to set a scene.

  He wanted to pick a spot he knew I would like, make it comfortable, get us completely alone so no one could interrupt.

  He wanted it to be right.

  It was unexpectedly sweet from a man who was not really a man at all, who wasn't, by nature, kind.

  He was being kind for me.

  My heart skittered in my chest at that, a new occurrence I often felt when he was nearby. It was often accompanied by this strange pulling sensation in my chest toward Lycus.

  While our coven didn't practice romantic love, we knew of it because we did—during rough times—trade love spells to the human women in town. So we all learned the ways in which it could impact the body, the mind, the soul.

  There was a string, an invisible string, that attached soul mates.

  The only problem with that scenario was that Lycus, as a demon, had no soul.

  So maybe it was in my imagination, this string.

  But I felt it.

  And it was sweet and reassuring and something I found myself wanting to protect at all costs. Even if our future was uncertain. Even if there were no guarantees that this connection could last.

  I guess, in the end, it didn't matter if it did last. All that mattered was that I was given the opportunity to experience it, to delve deeply into it, to take it for all it was worth.

  And I was ready to take it, to take him, to move forward with him.

  My hands framed his face as I went up on my tiptoes to seal my lips to his, soft and sweet, a thank you for his thoughtfulness, his consideration of my feelings, for wanting to make this something memorable for me.

  Ly's hands slid down my back, sinking into my behind, pulling m
e tightly against him. His hardness pressed into my belly, making the need bloom through my system, something warm and liquid, something I hoped I would never get sick of, never become immune to, this way he could so easily affect me.

  He released me to slip his fingers into the waistband of my skirt, pushing it off my hips, letting it drop down onto the forest floor, all but forgotten as his fingertips moved over my skin, creating heat where the cool autumnal air skittered across me.

  I never did take to the human custom of underwear, so his palms cupped my bare ass, squeezing, slipping down, sliding between my thighs as his tongue moved inside my mouth to claim mine, getting harder, hungrier, more demanding. More... him.

  I appreciated him trying to alter his nature for my comfort, but I liked him for who he was. My body responded to his nature with reckless abandon.

  His finger traced up my cleft, finding that perfect point of pleasure, moving over it with slow, deliberate circles as his lips crushed, bruised.

  "Lycus," I moaned, that deep ache begging for fulfillment.

  More.

  I needed more.

  I needed everything.

  Sensing my desperation, likely feeling it himself, his hands moved, his lips ripping from mine so he could pull up my shirt and remove it, toss it to the side with my skirt.

  My nipples hardened at the cool air, drawing his attention, his hands moving there, squeezing, grazing, rolling the tightened buds between his thumb and forefinger.

  My hungry hands grabbed at his shirt, making him raise it up, allowing me to remove it, tossing it to the side. My fingertips traced over his heated skin, seeing the muscles tense under the inspection. As my fingers teased over the lowest part of his stomach, a hiss escaped him.

  I undid his button and zipper, drawing his pants down over his hips, finding his cock already thick and straining, making my walls tighten in anticipation.

  My gaze lifted to his as I slowly lowered myself down to the ground, taking him into my mouth.