Demon Sworn: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Witch's Rebels Book 3)

by Sarah Piper

  One more.

  I don’t know how many times I said it before it was actually true. On a steep, rocky slope slick with ice and snow, I scrambled up the last hundred feet on all fours, finally punching through the cloud cover and hauling myself up onto the very top.

  The summit itself was flat and open, and much larger than I expected—about the size of a basketball court. In every direction, a thick blanket of clouds stretched as far as the eye could see, broken only by the jagged peaks of other mountains. I wondered if there were other climbers reaching their own summits. I wondered what they’d find.

  “Wish.”

  A flash of silver in the snow caught my eye, and I crouched down to investigate. Sweeping away the snow at my feet, I revealed a slim silver dagger, it’s sheath decorated with jewels.

  I picked it up for a closer look, but I already knew what I’d find. It was Sophie’s dagger—the one she’d left me to activate the blood spell protecting her book of shadows.

  It warmed in my hand, beautiful and elegant. I was sure this was the object I’d been sent to retrieve—it felt right, and a sense of completion washed over me.

  But why? Why did I need her dagger?

  The wind stopped, everything around me going absolutely still and silent.

  I felt like the very last person alive.

  In the absence of all other sounds, the voice that came again was loud and clear.

  “You die, wish.”

  I turned toward the sound of it. It was several shocked moments before I realized what I was looking at. Who I was looking at.

  “Die, wish.”

  “Jonathan?” I gasped.

  His face was completely deformed, his forehead sloping back, his nose and mouth elongated like a muzzle. His few remaining teeth were long and pointed, his gums bleeding profusely.

  His body was in a similar, half-formed state, with long, gangly arms and legs bent awkwardly like a dog’s haunches. He was naked, half covered in fur and half in rotting flesh.

  He looked like a shifter caught mid-shift, and now he pointed a gnarled, twisted finger at me.

  “Die, wish.”

  Witch. That’s what he’d been saying. Die, witch.

  “What the fuck are you?” I unsheathed the dagger and got to my feet, but disgust and astonishment—and a flicker of pity—made me hesitate. Was he in pain? Could he move? How had he even reached the summit?

  What the hell had he done to himself?

  He was pitifully broken, blood dripping onto the snow where he stood. A soft whimper escaped his lips.

  And then he lunged.

  Despite appearances, he was faster and stronger than a human. Stronger than me. He barreled into me at full speed—shifter speed—knocking me to the ground easily.

  The beast was on top of me, pinning me in the snow, my arms trapped uselessly beneath his weight. I clung to Sophie’s dagger, but it didn’t do me any good. I couldn’t move.

  Jonathan snapped his teeth in front of my face, spattering blood across my cheeks. It was a show of dominance more than a real threat, and I wondered how long he’d drag this out. How long he’d torture me.

  He’d spent his entire adult life doing just that.

  Rage bubbled inside, and a flicker of my magic stirred to life.

  “You’re pathetic!” I shouted, squirming beneath his weight. Inside, my blood warmed, the magic humming through my veins. Gathering strength. “Look what you’ve done to yourself. You couldn’t hack it as a man, and now you’re just a freak. An abomination.”

  “Not abomination. Choice,” he slurred. “My choice.”

  “You didn’t choose this. No one would choose this. You tried to make yourself into something you aren’t—something better. And you failed, Jonathan. Everything you’ve ever done has failed.”

  He swung his monstrous head from side to side, as if to tell me no.

  Then, he howled. Gasped. Sputtered.

  And I stared in horror as the bones beneath his face shifted, his body slowly returning to its damaged human form. The weight on my chest lifted.

  I could breathe again.

  I could move my arms.

  “I wanted this,” he said, his words clarifying. “It was the only way I could—”

  I slammed the dagger into his side, shoving his dead weight off my body.

  Jonathan gasped, and I rolled on top of him, pinning him down. Blood leaked from the wound, staining the snow ruby red.

  “It was your father’s way,” I said, my hands igniting with blue fire.

  Take it. Take it. Take it.

  The magic whispered inside me, hungry for his soul. I wondered if I’d rip it out of his throat again. If he even had his soul anymore.

  “It’s always been his,” I said. I wanted him to know this. Wanted it to be the last thing he heard. “Nothing you’ve ever done has been yours, and now you’re going to die knowing you lived your entire life as a shadow puppet.”

  Gasping for air beneath me, Jonathan almost looked human. Almost regretful.

  “Gray, I’m…” He stilled, his green grass eyes holding mine. He seemed to be searching for his words, and for a brief second, I actually thought he might apologize for all the things he’d done to me. To my mother. To Sophie. To everyone who wasn’t his father’s idea of perfect.

  But that’s not how the world worked. Not everyone changed. Not everyone redeemed himself in the end.

  I yanked the dagger from his side and pressed the tip to his throat. Magic swirled around the blade.

  Cut his throat. Make it slow. Make him hurt.

  For so long, I’d wanted to torture him. Make him pay for what he’d done to my family and friends. What he’d been doing for ten years.

  But now, I just wanted it to be done.

  “You know why I have to do this,” I whispered, an unexpected knot of emotion tightening my throat. “I’m sorry it had to be this way. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I hope you find peace.”

  “I’m not sorry,” he continued, his eyes blazing with new fire. “My father and uncles were right. Witches need to be eradicated. It’s the only way the rightful—”

  I shoved the dagger through his throat.

  In the end, I hadn’t needed magic to do it. Just will.

  I got to my feet, waiting for his soul to slither out for the last time.

  But there was only the white fog of his breath, thinning into nothing.

  Jonathan Reese was dead.

  I thought the moment would feel bigger somehow. More important. The closing of an epic story my life had been writing for a long, long time.

  But it was just a moment, not so different from any other. Here, and then gone.

  The air before me stirred, and a massive snowy owl appeared—one of Liam’s messengers. He was white with black spots and an all-white face, his piercing amber eyes looking right through me, pinning me in place.

  He hovered over Jonathan’s body, watching me. Waiting.

  He was magnificent. The sight of him brought tears to my eyes. I reached out to touch him, but in a swirl of snow and ice, he vanished.

  I blinked the cold from my eyes. When I glanced down at the spot where Jonathan’s body had lain, all that remained was Sophie’s dagger, glistening in the bright red snow.

  I crouched down to pick it up, but as soon as I touched it, the ground began to rumble.

  Another earthquake?

  I fell to my knees as a fissure split the snow, the sound like the most terrifying crack of thunder I’d ever heard.

  And then the mountain crumbled.

  Not an earthquake, I realized. An avalanche.

  I sucked in a breath of icy air as the solid ground dropped out from under me. The world spun and blurred into white nothingness, and I tumbled backward, wind whipping my hair and stealing my breath, ice and snow slicing my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut as the sound of a thousand freight trains descended on me, and then I was flying.

  Through the snow, through the air,
through solid ice, I could no longer tell. I only knew that when I finally reached the bottom, no one would be there to catch my fall.

  Twenty-Three

  Gray

  “Gray. Can you hear me?”

  The whispers tickled the back of my mind, slowly drifting into my consciousness.

  “Gray?”

  Gray. That was my name, but why was that voice so far away? A million miles, at least.

  Where was I?

  Falling.

  I couldn’t open my eyes. Couldn’t feel my body.

  Mountain.

  The wind howled like a banshee, carrying with it the rest of my memories.

  Avalanche.

  Images slammed into my mind, one after the other. The snow. The ice. The terrible rumbling. The fall.

  Had it broken my neck? My back?

  I gave myself a moment to breathe. To be still.

  The wind faded.

  All was silent again. I wondered if the snowy owl would come for me.

  I wondered if I would leave a ruby-red stain in the snow like Jonathan had.

  I wondered if Liam would ever find me. I wanted to thank him for our time on the beach. For all he’d done for me. For being him.

  “Gray, I need you to open your eyes.”

  Another whisper, and the scent of something I used to know.

  “Gray, can you hear me? Please open your eyes.”

  More whispers, louder now. Clearer. The heady smell of expensive whiskey and soft leather.

  I know that voice. I know that smell…

  “Stay with me, love.”

  Darius?

  My eyelids fluttered open, and slowly—agonizingly—the picture came into focus. A beautiful dark-haired man was looking down at me through warm golden eyes, his full lips pressed together in worry.

  It smelled like my vampire. Looked like him. Felt like him, my blood already warming in response to his presence.

  “Darius?” I whispered.

  A smile broke across his concerned face. “Yes. I’m here, love. I’ve got you.”

  It was too good to be true. Another trick of the realm. Another torment.

  “You’re not real,” I whispered, torn between wanting the words to be false and wishing the torment of these nightmares would just end. I had to stay focused. Strong. The gateway to my own realm—that was my mission. I had to keep following the pull in my gut to that place—the place that would lead me home. There wasn’t room for fear.

  “I’ll try not to take that as an insult, love. But only because you’ve been through quite an ordeal. As soon as you’ve fully recovered, I’ll be waiting for a proper apology.”

  The accent was perfect—it definitely sounded like Darius.

  I told my arms to move, told my hands to reach up and touch his face, but they wouldn’t obey.

  “You’re in bad shape, Gray. I need to get you inside.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m afraid this is going to hurt,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

  “I won’t. Ever.”

  His arms tightened around me, and he hefted me up out of the snow. The movement sent a shockwave of pain rippling throughout my body, so intense it threatened to suck me under.

  I tried to hold on. Tried to stay conscious. Tried to concentrate on the feel of the strong, capable arms of my vampire, wrapped tightly around my body, carrying me someplace warm and safe.

  I even tried to smile.

  But then the world began to spin again, and in its utter cruelty, sucked me away into nothingness.

  Twenty-Four

  Gray

  Soft orange light flickered against my eyelids, the hiss and pop of a roaring fire stirring me from a deep sleep.

  I opened my eyes and took in my new surroundings—a cozy, one-room cabin in the middle of a snowy wood. Outside, harsh winter wind howled through the pines and blew snow into a white frenzy, but inside I was warm and safe, tucked into a small bed beside the fire. I’d been bathed and dressed in a soft, clean T-shirt that fell to my knees, my wounds not only treated, but healed.

  Sophie’s dagger rested on the hearth above the fireplace. I couldn’t believe I’d held onto it.

  “Feeling better, love?” Darius knelt by my side and took my hand, pressing a kiss to my fingers. His golden eyes shone with relief.

  “You’re… you’re really here.” I sat up in bed, astonished. “I thought maybe I was hallucinating.”

  “Not about this.” His voice was like warm honey. “Are you in any pain?”

  I wriggled my toes and took a deep breath, assessing. I felt strong. I felt… amazing.

  “I’m… really great, actually.” I squeezed his hand, bringing it to my chest and holding it there. “What happened at the portal? Is Ronan here, too?”

  “Not yet, but he will be. I came through first. Liam was waiting for me on arrival, and directed me to you. From the looks of it, I got here just in time.”

  I nodded. I didn’t know what would’ve happened if he hadn’t found me. Would the owl have come? Would I have awoken in some other strange landscape, fighting yet another enemy?

  “Liam is waiting for word about Ronan,” Darius continued. “As soon as he hears anything, he’ll let us know, and we’ll figure out where to meet up.”

  I nodded and leaned back against the pillow. Darius brushed the hair from my forehead, his fingers tracing soft swirls on my skin.

  “How did you find this place?” I asked.

  “It simply appeared, right when we most needed it.”

  “The realm is like that. It seems to give us what we need. Sometimes that also happens to be what we want, but not always.” I shrugged, snuggling deeper into the heavenly bed. “We got lucky this time.”

  I told him about what had happened on the summit. About Jonathan, and then the avalanche.

  “You were hypothermic when I found you,” he said, the words making him wince. “You’d suffered several broken bones and fractures, and frostbite covering half of your body. Internal bleeding was another concern. I thought…” Darius closed his eyes and shook his head.

  I heard the words anyway.

  I thought I’d lost you.

  “How did you heal me?” I asked him.

  “Unfortunately, El Lobo was not here to make his chicken soup. So I had to settle for the next best thing.” He tapped his wrist.

  Vampire blood.

  “It didn’t require much. Our blood bond is strong, Gray. You respond to my blood in a way I’ve never seen in other bonded—” He cut himself off, flustered. “Well, in any case, it seems to have done the trick.”

  What had he meant to say? Bonded pairs? Bonded mates?

  I didn’t know much about vampire society, or how things like mates actually worked. I knew it was an intense commitment. Knew that a vampire would die before he let harm come to his mate. And I knew that while vampires might experience many partnerships and, frankly, sexual encounters, he only mated once in his entire immortal life.

  When we’d first made the blood bond, I’d assumed it was more transactional—a legal and binding contract.

  But now?

  Mates? Was that what we were becoming? Is that how he saw me?

  The idea sent a little thrill down my spine.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “For saving me.” My hand trailed up his arm to his face, my fingers brushing across his lips, his jaw, taking him in one slow, deliberate touch at a time.

  His golden eyes sparkled.

  “Hello, little brawler,” he whispered, brushing his lips across my brow. His whiskey-and-leather scent washed over me in a soothing wave.

  “So it’s… really you?” I whispered. “This isn’t a hallucination?”

  “It’s really me,” he said, lowering his mouth to mine.

  The hot press of his lips was familiar, yet overwhelming, like the first sip of water after a lifetime of thirst. I tasted him slowly, terrified that the moment I let
my guard down, the realm would shift and he’d morph into another monster, or burst into flames before my eyes, or liquify into a pool of blood in my mouth.

  But none of those things came to pass. There was only Darius, his kiss growing more insistent, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, his touch light as he slid a hand beneath my shirt.

  I let out a soft moan.

  He paused, breaking our kiss. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “I’m sure. Better than ever.”

  Darius resumed our kiss and cupped my breast, thumb grazing my nipple, the barest touch sending a pulse of heat to my core.

  I sighed in his mouth, and he deepened our kiss, his touch growing more possessive as he slid his fingers down the front of my underwear. I was already wet for him, arching to get closer.

  “Do I feel real enough yet, love?” he teased, nipping my bottom lip as his fingers slowly sank inside me, his thumb ghosting over my clit. “Because this,” he breathed, dragging his fingers all the way out, then thrusting them back in, hitting me just right. “This feels very real to me. And very hot. And very, very wet.”

  My core throbbed, pulsing with need and desire as his fingers slid in and out, teasing me into a white-hot frenzy.

  I grabbed his arm, digging my nails into his flesh. He was no longer that first sip of water, but the very last—a drink I desperately needed to consume before it disappeared forever.

  “Real,” I panted. “Definitely real.”

  “Are you sure? Perhaps you’re still hallucinating.”

  “I don’t care if I’m hallucinating. Just don’t stop touching me.”

  “That is an order with which I’ll happily comply.” He kissed my jaw, my neck, swirling his tongue in the hollow of my throat before kissing his way down the front of my chest.

  He sucked my nipple through the shirt, biting gently. The extra layer between his mouth and my flesh made the teasing all the more exquisite, and my hips rocked forward, urging his fingers deeper inside me.

  “Your scent is…” He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. “Overpowering me. I can’t… I… Bloody hell, woman. I need to taste you.”