Licking her jaw, her cheek, he finally came to her mouth and the moment his tongue touched her lips a sickly sweet substance clung to him. It was a parasite, gripping on, sliding down his throat, the acidity burning sores into the skin of his mouth.
Startled, he jerked away as the sickness spread through his belly. The screaming had stopped. Whatever he’d just done, it’d worked. Bracing for what was to come, Ewan sealed his lips to hers, slipping his tongue deep into her mouth.
The poison latched on. It was thick and dark and filled his gut. He swallowed more and more, all of it. Gagging, he forced himself to keep it down and out of her. Her nails dug into his cheek, she was kissing him back with passion, twining her tongue with his.
But it was too much. Ewan wanted her. Wanted to taste her, to hold her, but the acid spewed hot in his gut, with one final pull he felt it coming back up. Pushing her away, he ran to a tree and retched.
Black blood spewed from his lips, covered the ground in gore. Up it came, with no end in sight. His body broke out in chills and then burned with fever. It felt like hours, but must have only been minutes when he sank to his knees, spent and panting, feeling as if his soul had been torn from his body.
“Ewan, I…”
Her soft hands were on his shoulders, rubbing gently. Expressing thanks with no words.
The world spun and shifted around him. There was nothing left in his gut, but still he felt the need to give up more. He grabbed his stomach, moaning. Black spots danced in his vision.
“Ewan,” her voice held a frantic edge to it, “you gotta come.” She tugged on his hand. “The land is dying; we gotta get out of here.”
It took everything he had to crack open eyes that felt full of sand and busted vessels.
The woods were melting. The trees ran with blood, branches were now skeletons, their limbs interlocked into a macabre structure. Sightless eye holes peered at him.
The crone’s dirty secret revealed. All the sugar drop trees and gingerbread rocks had been nothing more than past victims spelled to appear as sweets.
If he hadn’t already thrown up, he’d have done so again when the stench of decay assailed his nose. The breeze was alive with the rotten scent of flesh hung out to dry. Toxic waste ran where the chocolate river once flowed.
“Please, Ewan, come on.” She tugged on him, snapping him from his stupor.
“We must hurry,” he said, voice rough and scratchy. Shaking his head, attempting to right his vision, he called the becoming to him. The shift had him howling, his body too weak to handle the change.
But her tiny hands, and soft pleas of encouragement, spurred him on, drove him to ignore the desperate ache filling his limbs. They ran, trying not to slip on the thick sludge beneath them. Violet cried as her feet gave out beneath her. She landed on her butt in a thick pile of something foul and sticky.
Dizzy, vision blurring with spots, Ewan nudged her to sit on his back.
“Are you sure?” she whimpered, biting her lip.
He grunted, barely able to hold his head up. She didn’t hesitate again, quickly straddling him.
Adrenaline was the only thing that kept him running.
Chapter 40
She shivered, hugging her arms tight to her body, wondering if she’d ever be able to sleep again. All that blood and gore. The knowledge of where it had all come from… she swallowed the bile trying to work its way up her throat.
Night kept their secrets, held them within her dark arms, making it impossible for Violet to see too far beyond their camp.
Ewan’s back was to her, his chest heaved hard and though he’d feared starting a fire, the moon was bright enough that she could see the gray pallor tinting his skin. She sighed.
“Are ye okay?” His deep voice was a caress, and her lashes fluttered like moth’s wings against her cheekbones.
“I should be asking you that,” she said with a half snort. He was the one that’d risked his neck to save them, and yet he still asked after her welfare.
Finally he rolled over, his liquid gold eyes sliding slowly along the length of her body. She shivered again, but this time it had nothing to do with the chill nip in the air. She bit her bottom lip as her lower stomach dipped with a sudden rush of nerves.
“Ye are my mate, Red. I’ll always worry after ye. Now are ye okay?”
A lump lodged in her throat, the kindness in his words, the deep timbre of his voice, it did something to her. Confused her more, made her care. It was hard to speak, so she nodded instead.
His eyes closed and a look of relief swept over his patrician features, making him seem softer, more approachable, and a million times more sexy. Her fingers twitched as a lock of midnight black hair flipped over his left eye.
“Good,” he smiled and her heart dropped. “Get some rest when ye can take it, Red. I doona think we’ll have too many more nights like these soon.”
“Are we close then?” There was a sort of quiet detachment in her question, maybe she should have felt fear. Any sane person probably would, but so much of this felt surreal. It’s not that Violet hadn’t known about the wonders of this world, she’d lived here once, long ago. But to see the stories of the mortal world open up before her eyes, to battle the cannibal crone and walk through a forest made of literal candy… sometimes it was hard to believe that all this wasn’t a dream.
“Aye, we’re close.” He nodded, and then giving her a grim smile, stood. “My bones ache this night, I must turn to wolf. It helps me heal properly, shake me if ye need me.”
She watched as his magnificent body became engulfed in a bright flare of white light and suffered a momentary pang of regret. He was much nicer to look at in human form, and the wolf still disconcerted her.
The large black beast padded out of the light, gave her one last lingering look, settled down close enough to her that she could feel the waves of his body heat, and let out a long puff of air. Violet studied him in the soft moonlight. He must have felt worse than he’d let on, within seconds he was sleeping, but somehow she sensed should another predator approach he’d snap awake. His muzzle was long and lean, the fur dense and so black it blended in with the shadows all around.
He’d saved her, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
A rushing tide of blood and bits had nearly taken them; the crone’s forest had tried to consume them just as its mistress had consumed so many others. The moment they’d passed the witch’s boundary, he’d collapsed. So still, she’d feared he’d died. Violet had sat with him, not knowing how long he’d remain that way. He’d come to an hour later, dazed but not quite so miserable.
He’d shifted and her heart had flipped. Something was happening to her. Something scary; but not altogether displeasing. He was gorgeous to look at; it was hard to pretend he wasn’t anymore. Her hate hadn’t been able to blind her to his charms, and now… well, now things were different.
Ewan had led her to a thicket of bushes, growling and fumbling in the dirt for thirty or so minutes, before finding what he’d sought. Another dream stone. He’d pressed his palm against the stone and the blue portal had opened wide for them.
Here they were now, sitting in another grove. This one was slightly different. The trees were full of fruit and she’d nearly sobbed with joy. Didn’t matter that it was an apple, nothing had ever tasted sweeter.
They’d gorged until they could barely breathe, but beyond the chat of seconds ago, neither had talked. Which should have suited her fine; except now she wanted to talk to him. Wanted to know everything he knew about her past.
His past.
Glancing at her clothes, she frowned. She was still covered in slaughter, her dress beyond ruined. Where were they headed now? To another monster, something even more insidious than the crone?
Violet shuddered, remembering the slithering feeling of that dark soul sliding down her throat. The wash of pain that’d blinded her to everything, and then the sweet, sweet lips consuming the evil within.
She br
ushed her fingertips against her lips and closed her eyes, his soft steady breaths a lullaby in her ear. Leaning against the tree she wiggled her toes, reveling in the warmth of his fur brushing against them.
An owl hooted and she shivered. Growing up, she’d led a sheltered life. Never able to stray farther than grandma’s territory; the apple trees the farthest she’d ever dared to go. But she’d known in her heart that there was more to Kingdom then the small valley she’d called home.
After much pleading and begging, grandmother had finally bought her maps, many of them. She’d stayed up into the wee hours of the night, reading and memorizing each wiggle and line by candlelight.
She’d been happy and content, but there were times she’d wished she could have seen them for herself. As a child she’d drooled at the thought of a forest made of cookies, but the reality was so much different than her childhood fantasies. The thrill of seeing a world she’d never thought to return to was still there, but tempered now with the knowledge that there was bad in this world.
Violet rolled her eyes, snorting. “You’re bad too,” she whispered.
What she’d done to the crone. The power that’d filled her body, spread through her like a dark cancer, sweeping aside reason or kindness. In its place had been something all-consuming and vile and she’d gloried in it.
The rush of all that power made her heady and wanton, desperate for more and ashamed of it all.
Until the pain.
But then Ewan had kissed her, and that kiss swept the evil aside, like a gentle swell lapping the beach. And she could breathe. Think.
Her head had swum with visions of a full moon, running and sweating, and howling. It’d been freedom, wild and untamed. And she’d wanted more.
Violet sighed, heart twisting painfully in her chest as she glanced at his still form. She should be sleeping, just like him. But her brain wouldn’t stop working. A side of her, smaller and smaller every day, still thought it was wrong not to hate him.
When he’d pushed her out onto the path, forced her to confront the crone, it’d flared to life. But then she’d seen him desperate to get at her, and had known he was trying to help.
But why?
Did he really think he was her mate?
She touched his bite mark, feeling nothing. Her flesh was smooth. Violet licked her lips. Was she his mate?
Was that why she’d obsessed about the big black wolf for so long? Not because she wanted to kill him, but because she needed him?
She shook her head, not wanting to think about any of that right now. It was too much to process. She wished he would have told her where they were headed to next.
Glancing up at the trees above, she tried to remember the landscape. Recall the maps she’d learned by heart so long ago. These woods looked… familiar.
Well, not so much these, but the ones to the left. The forest she and Ewan camped within seemed mundane, but not a stone’s throw from where they sat was a copse full of twisted, thick bellied trunks. Limbs splayed out like crooked fingers, and the silver mist encasing those woods… something about them teased the edge of her consciousness.
But the thought was fleeting, the faint memory indecipherable. Huffing, she stood and dusted her butt off. She needed to stretch and take care of some business.
Ewan growled, yellow eyes piercing hers. A question blazed in their depths.
“I need to relieve myself,” she admitted, cheeks blazing. “I thought you were asleep.”
He shook his furry head.
“I won’t take long.” She pressed her lips together, humiliated beyond belief.
He sighed, and laid his head back down.
Violet moved silently, aware of her surroundings, but moving far enough away that he’d not hear.
Finally satisfied, she did her business and wondered when she’d stopped thinking of him as the big bad wolf.
Moonlight bathed everything in a pale blue glow. She’d not realized she’d gone so far, until she noticed the silver fog circling her legs.
“Little Red Riding Hood.”
The cultured voice wrapped itself around her throat, making her feel like she suddenly couldn’t take a breath. She didn’t feel like dealing with another monster right now, especially not without Ewan by her side. She turned, and started trotting back to their campsite.
“I suppose I should be offended at your running off so soon.”
Far from sounding threatening, the voice was inquisitive, which made her curious enough to stop and glance back. This time a face materialized with the voice. A floating orange head gazed at her, the cat’s sickle shaped smile revealed wicked long fangs.
She smiled, delighted. “I know who you are.”
He lifted a brow, and then the rest of his body materialized. A large fluffy tail whipped gracefully back and forth. “Oh, do tell. I often forget.”
“You’re the Cheshire Cat.”
Large brown eyes widened and then he nodded. “Ah yes, indeed I am.”
The fog was thickest where he floated. His fur was so silky looking, so soft. She had a strange urge to pet him, but curled her fingers by her side instead.
“That must mean these are the Hatter’s woods.”
“A biscuit for the lady,” he smiled, and licked his paw.
His coat of fur gleamed like somebody had taken a torch and infused the mesmerizing colors within it.
“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, and then jerked, wishing she hadn’t said that.
His eyes rolled down his nose, the whole time studying the length of her. “I wish I could say the same for you. Who did you eat tonight, Heartsong? You made quite a mess.”
She curled her nose; the description wasn’t that far off. “The old crone.”
“Oh my.” He seemed surprised, eyes popping back in their sockets. “No more kiddies for breakfast, eh? How terribly mundane.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say.”
He shrugged; his body hovered between two trees, never coming closer. She nibbled her lip, obsessed beyond reason with feeling the texture of his fur.
“You want to pet me.” It wasn’t a question.
Hesitantly, she nodded. “I’ve never seen fur like yours.”
He kept licking himself, fluffing the fur higher, drawing her eye like a dragon’s to a gem. “You can you know. Just come… closer.”
“Why don’t you come here?”
He inhaled deeply. “Do you see the fog?” He nodded. “That is the demarcation point between my world, and that one.” He curled his nose, long whiskers twitching.
“What do you mean, that one?”
“The one you stand in. Of course.”
She frowned, looking around. The trees on this side did seem more normal than the behemoth’s lurking on his side. “Have you ever come on this side?”
“How do you think I found my way in here? I came from that goddess awful place.”
A shudder rippled across his shoulders, down his spine and through his legs. It was a strange sight.
She lifted a brow. “Which means it won’t kill you.”
“Mmm. Debatable. It might as well, because you see, my dear girl, if I step one itty bitty paw beyond this boundary I’ll become normal,” he drawled, disgust dripping from his tongue.
Laughing, she said, “You make it sound like a fate worse than death.”
“Isn’t it?”
She stopped laughing, glancing down at her feet. “I don’t think normal is all that bad. Sometimes, I wonder what it feels like.”
“Red?” he said, a question in his voice.
Violet frowned. “Why does everyone call me that?”
He hovered like a ghost between thick branches. “What would you like me to call you? Blue?”
“Neither. My name is Violet.”
He tapped his jaw. “I prefer Red. Sounds more dangerous,” he purred, the ‘r’ rolling hard off his tongue.
When she looked back at him, his fur almost seemed to triple in size. What
was it about his fur? Ewan’s didn’t do that. Then again, she didn’t really want to pet Ewan. Well, not his wolfy side anyway.
She licked her lips. “I think I would like to pet you, Cat.”
He dropped to the ground and swished his tail. “Because I like you, girl. I’ll let you do what few can. Come here.”
She hesitated and he purred, that kittenish sound luring her in like a siren’s song. The fog felt cold against her skin. She was right at the edge of the Hatter’s woods, not too far in that she couldn’t turn back in case this was a trap of some sort.
Her heart sped. Maybe she shouldn’t do this.
“Now sit,” he commanded.
His fur rippled and it was too hard to ignore the lure of it any longer. She sat, and the moment she did, he crawled in her lap. His big furry head rubbed along her chin. Sighing, she tickled him behind the ear and scratched under his belly.
“I’d forgotten how wonderful that feels,” he purred, and she smiled.
“You’re so soft. Like cashmere.”
In the distance, birds cawed.
Violet petted and petted, losing track of time, until shadows began to dance between trees. At first she thought it was nothing, but when she turned back to pet him, she caught a dash of black out of the corner of her eye.
“Cat,” she demanded, stilling instantly, “what is…”
The words died as the shadows took form. They were large, with big bellies, and covered in black and grey stripes. Black feathers adhered to their arms, and a long curved beak covered their nose and mouth.
“You’ve tricked me,” her voice broke.
“And this is my cue,” Cheshire said with a glint in his feral eyes, and then became nothing but a vapor. “Thanks for the rub down, Red,” his ghostly whisper mocked her.
Her eyes widened in horror as the beings moved in.
“Stay back,” she shot to her feet, “I can hurt you.”
The heads cocked in unison.
“Not if you can’t see us.” The voice came out a tinny echo behind the mask.
But she didn’t have a clue who’d spoken, and with the shock of seeing bird men advancing, came a complete lapse of reason. She stood frozen, a split moment of indecision that would cost her dearly.
[Kingdom 01.0 - 03.0] Kingdom Series Collection Page 37