Wicked Pleasures

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  “Then your death at my hands will only come with more pleasure.” Roark bent at the knees, bringing up the bow with the arrow aligned with Shelby’s heart. Roark could hear the steady beat of his heart and he was calm, ready for attack.

  “Kill me and that bitch and your bastard will become fish food.”

  The air snapped and Roark couldn’t breathe. His weakness attacked his strength and he knew couldn’t risk Bronte’s death.

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Shelby.”

  Roark turned and standing in the doorway was Azelda. After the initial shock, he recovered, and anger shot through him. “This is your fault! Leave or I will end your misery, old woman!” Roark said through tight lips.

  “You’ll want to hear what I’ve come to say, Roark.” The witch pulled back her hood, her face was red, and her eyes were wide. Her mouth twisted. “Evil has a name, right Shelby?”

  Shelby laughed. “Leave now old woman or I’ll snap your neck!”

  Azelda wobbled into the den, her joints cracked with each step. “Not before I put a stop to your ways.”

  “Make this quick, Azelda. My anger for you is only growing,” Roark had no time to waste.

  “You have a coward in your mist and he sits cockily before you. He fills you with fear with his lies. You see, I fed Bronte a potion that protects your precious seed. No harm shall come of that child. Upon her eighteenth birthday, the potion will no longer serve its purpose. Shelby holds no harm over those you love. Yet, there is another that wants what he’s ached for since Jillian shunned him many, many years ago. He is your true enemy, and he is a danger to Bronte.”

  Roark stared at the witch. “Who is he? Tell me now!”

  “His name is—”

  Glass shattered. Roark turned, catching a glimpse of Shelby as he fled through the window. Dropping the bow, Roark was out of the window in two quick strides and running after Shelby. Roark caught the man as he reached the tree line, knocking him down with a blow to his back.

  Shelby stayed on the ground. “Go ahead, Roark. Let’s get this over with.”

  “Why did you do this?” Roark stood over the man, his hands fisted.

  “Because I’m the true leader. You can kill me, but one day, you’ll pay for what you did to my brother. Everyone you love will pay.”

  Rage coursed through Roark. In one swift motion, he grabbed Shelby by the neck and swung him around, tossing him against the tree. He jumped up and faced Roark. Shelby darted toward him and in a sickening crushing of bones, Roark decapitated him, ending the fight.

  Chapter 15

  BRONTE FLUTTERED HER eyes open, feeling warmth of a hand on her leg. She jerked and came upright on the couch. Through blurred vision she saw Gage, he was kneeling beside her. “What? How?” Her words were slurred.

  “It’s okay, Bronte. I’m here now. You’re alright. You’re at my house.”

  Gage’s words seemed like they were coming through a tunnel. Her mind worked, but she was groggy. The last thing she remembered, Shelby was in her bedroom. “Watch out for Shelby.”

  “Shelby won’t bother you here, darling. I promise.”

  “Yes, he’s a wolf.” She forced her voice to work although her tongue was numb.

  “And so am I, sweetheart,” Gage said. “I’m Gunnar. I’d hoped to tell you the truth in a better way, but it was bound to come out eventually. I’ve long waited for you to know who I really am so that we can be together.”

  She felt his fingers through her hair and her brain absorbed what he’d said. Her lids wanted to fall, but she refused to fall asleep. “You? But I don’t understand.” His fuzzy image started to clear.

  “Jillian was mine. I saw her first, before Roark. Her father promised her hand to me, but she wanted nothing to do with me after Roark charmed his way into her life. I would have done anything for her. I would have given her all of her dreams, but instead she wanted a love story.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” she asked as she tried to sit up higher. Her body wouldn’t work.

  “It has everything to do with you. You look like her, and you have her mark.” His gaze lowered to her chest.

  “But I’m not Jillian.”

  “I think we both know that you are. She’s in your blood. She found her way back from the dead, just too bad for her that it still isn’t enough to be with Roark. I have made the plans, my dearest. There’s nothing that requires your attention. You will be my partner, my wife, and together we will raise Roark’s child. I will be a good husband and father.”

  Bronte’s lungs ached and she couldn’t breathe. The cold calculated tone of his voice made her shudder. “I will never marry you. My heart belongs to Roark. Time couldn’t fade that truth, so what makes you think you can?”

  “Poor, Bronte. Of course you will marry me, darling. I’m certain you’ll change your mind. After all, you’ve worn my ring before.”

  His confidence was unnerving. “I assure you that I won’t.” The fogginess was fading and her muscles felt stronger.

  “If you wish to keep Roark and your baby safe, you’ll gladly give me what I want.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. She couldn’t control the fear oozing through her nerve endings. “What are you talking about? My baby can’t be harmed.”

  “Uh, uh, uh.” He waved his finger as he stood up. “Let me explain. I’m afraid you have no choice but to be with me.”

  “Why do you want me? Why would you want someone who doesn’t love you?” she sputtered.

  “You’re a smart woman, Bronte. Isn’t it clear? Not only were you promised to me years ago, but Roark’s bloodline reigns as head of the family. Therefore, you’re carrying a prince, so to speak. Of course there is the little issue with Shelby, but because he is unbearably stupid I can handle him.” He sniffed loudly. “As long as there is another that carries Roark’s blood, they will hold a very special place of power. Your child is worth a hefty price. I have two bargaining tools, and that, darling, is so much better than one.”

  “Roark will never allow this to happen.”

  He smirked. “I’ll fill you in.” He seemed to take great pleasure in her ambiguity. His shifty grin spoke volumes. “I paid Jillian a visit late one evening. I’d known by then that she would never be mine. Seeing her made me angry and I had left her lying in a pool of her own blood. She was still beautiful in her last moments. Shelby had wanted to kill her himself, but I wanted to complete the task. Shelby had a one-track mind. He wanted Roark to see her suffering and I didn’t want her to be with another, ever. We both got what we wanted, although I would have liked things to be different. Roark arrived too late. The look of pain on his face was precious.”

  The words struck Bronte with the force of a harmful blow. “You are an evil man!”

  “Oh please, sweetheart. This is all Roark’s doing. He stole you from me! Now, you’re back. We can be together like it was supposed to be.”

  “You’re wrong. I am here because my love for Roark is stronger than death. And whatever happens, I’ll always love him. He is the rightful leader of the pack. No matter how many people you kill or hurt, you’ll never be half the man he is.” She knew she’d touched upon a sensitive subject. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. “You’ll always walk in his shadow. Even in death he’ll still outshine you.” Saliva bubbled at the corner of his mouth.

  “You will be mine, Bronte. Like it or not!” His voice rose into a roar that shook the windows.

  “When hell freezes over.”

  “This is hell.” His tone changed. Bronte stared up at him. She wished she could strangle him with her bare hands. “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t hurt you, unless you give me reason to. There’s no reason why we can’t be happy even if you’ve lowered yourself to Roark.”

  “I’d rather die than be near you,” she said through tight lips.

  “Now, now. You don’t mean that. Think of it like this, you’ll have a baby that’ll keep you happy. And I’ll have my kingdom of power.�
�

  “So, you’re as cowardly as Shelby. The only way you two can get what you want is to lie, cheat and betray. You may consider yourself a man, but I think you’re a worthless sack of bones who has longed for a woman who couldn’t stand you.”

  His eyes slanted. “I can do plenty. Don’t forget, I’m worth millions in the human world, and now I’ll be worth even more to the wolf clan. You should be proud that I’d choose you to be with.”

  Laughter bubbled up inside her throat. “You’re insane. You may have money, but it doesn’t make you worth anything. Do you really think the wolf family will accept you? They’ll see right through your evil ways and when they do, will you be safe?”

  The line of his lips thinned. “Shut up! You know nothing about my wolf family. They’ll accept me because I have power, and that brat!” He pointed to her stomach.

  “You’ll be no one. This child will be the leader, not you!” He reached out and grabbed her hair, pulling her off the couch. She screamed as she felt pain shoot through her temples. He led her to his bedroom, pushed her in and she fell onto the floor.

  “Maybe after you’ve had time to think this through, you’ll see things my way.” He slammed the door.

  Getting up and going to the bed, she sat down as tears fell to her cheeks. It was hopeless. Moreover, Roark could be dead as far as she knew.

  The only thing she could do now was protect her baby.

  ****

  Azelda’s eyes seemed to dance. Roark was at his wit’s end as he stared at her, wanting to rip the truth from her thin lips. “Tell me, Azelda. Who has Bronte and where is she?” Roark could barely breathe because his chest was so tight. Shelby’s blood remained on his hands and the iron scent made his lungs ache. Caleb sat in the chair by the fireplace and Miss Deveraux, who was holding an ice bag against her head, sat on the couch. The witch was standing in the middle of the room. Her hood was in place and Roark could hear her shallow breaths.

  “He’s waited a long time, Roark. He once hunted alongside you until greediness became his lover. Just like Shelby, you were best friends until jealousy blinded him and turned his heart to stone. With Shelby’s help, he has brought you down and he awaits his freedom. .”

  “A greedy man? Gunnar?” he asked. Gunnar had forsaken his wolf family for money and the pack had shunned him.

  “No longer Gunnar. His name is Gage,” Azelda said.

  Realization made Roark’s heart skip a beat. “You mean Bronte’s fiancé?”

  Azelda nodded. “You allowed love to blind you. Your heart is deeper than any leader before you. Each mistake brought you closer to weakness. You must realize that Bronte can never become a wolf, but you will be faced with a choice.”

  “Old woman, I don’t have time for a lesson of the past. Where is she? Where does that bastard Dell live?” he demanded.

  “I can’t answer that,” she said. “I do know that he has taken her far away. Someplace where he thinks they’ll be safe.”

  “You can find where she is. Use your magic. Use a crystal ball. I’ll take you back to your shack and you can use that stinking, bubbling cauldron you have in the middle of your house. I don’t fucking care! Just find Bronte.” His words came in uncontrollable spurts. She stared at him, blank featured. He knew it was a waste of valuable time. “To hell with this!” He started for the door. He’d find the bastard Dell who took her and he’d rip every limb from his body until he found Bronte.

  The witch’s voice stopped him. “You’ll find her where she finds comfort.”

  “No more riddles, old woman,” he said as he grabbed the doorknob.

  “I can save her, Roark, only if her heart still beats. Yet she won’t be the same. Choose wisely. And remember, weakness is what evil thrives upon.” He turned to ask her what she meant but when he did she was gone. He looked from Caleb to Miss Deveraux and they were staring at the empty floor in shock.

  Caleb got up. “I’m going with you,” he said.

  Roark shook his head. “No, this is something I must do on my own.”

  “I want to help. I have as much at stake here as you.”

  “You have something else you’re supposed to be nurturing, remember?” Roark scrubbed his head in frustration.

  “You have always been kind to me. I won’t let you do this alone.”

  “I’m the one who must protect my family.”

  “Can’t you treat me like I’m an adult?”

  Roark stared at Caleb. The young man was serious. “Come along, but I assure you, I can’t be a babysitter.”

  Caleb nodded. “Also, there’s something else you should know.”

  Roark lifted a brow in question. “What is that?”

  “I think I may know where they are.”

  Chapter 16

  BRONTE STRETCHED HER aching body. She sat up in the bed and listened. There wasn’t any noise. She wasn’t sure how long she was locked in the bedroom, but her impatience grew.

  Quietly getting out of bed, she tiptoed across the carpeted floor until she came to the closed door. She pressed her ear against the cool wood but heard nothing. She didn’t need to see Gage to know he still lingered.

  Glancing around the room, she looked for something to use as a weapon. Nothing. She searched through the nightstand drawer and came up empty. The windows were barred so she couldn’t get out through them. She looked out and could see nothing but trees.

  She was defenseless. But she couldn’t give up.

  Opening the door, she peeked out. When she felt safe enough, she crept out and made her way down the narrow hall, not sure what she’d encounter.

  The walk into the living room seemed similar to the last walk on death row. Bronte realized Gage was dangerous but she had to live for her child’s sake.

  Bronte heard his heavy breathing before she saw him. He was asleep on the couch. The moonlight bled in through the window, giving her enough light that she saw what she needed—a bow. It was leaning against the wall next to a bag of arrows and Gage.

  She remembered that Gage had liked to hunt animals. He’d almost seemed fascinated with the kill. Now it all made sense.

  The overwhelming desire to kill him grew strong in her. She had to protect those that she loved and this man had done nothing but destroy Roark and his clan. She had to get her hands on the weapon.

  With bravery she didn’t know she had, she walked toward the couch, taking small steps. She knew from experience that wolves didn’t sleep soundly. Roark had proved that to her. The weapon was right there…all that she had to do was reach. She lifted her hand, not wanting to take another step for fear that he’d wake up and she’d be too close. Her fingertips touched the metal and it was in her palm when she heard the cushions crack. It was too late for her to back off. She quickly grabbed an arrow and raced across the room, as far away from him as possible.

  Remembering everything Roark had taught her, she loaded the bow and with shaking hands, she waited. He didn’t even blink when he saw her. “Finally awake I see. And look there, she holds a weapon.” He mocked her.

  “Yes, it is,” she answered. Revulsion wedged itself inside her chest. She wanted to shoot him between the eyes.

  “Bronte, you’re going to hurt yourself. Or worse, the child you carry. Put the bow away and let’s get to know each other better.” He sat up and patted the cushion next to him.

  “I didn’t know how useful a weapon like this would be.” She dropped a step back, lifted the bow and settled the arrow against the string. He smiled. “You’re hurting my delicate feelings, Bronte.”

  “Stop the act, you bastard. You don’t have an ounce of compassion anywhere in your body.” She was slightly trembling as her nerves attempted to get the best of her. She inhaled deeply and forced her muscles to relax. She wasn’t about to allow him to win. “Who’d betray his family then turn around and seek vengeance against someone for the same thing? You’re a greedy son-of-a-bitch.”

  “You’re weak, Bronte.” She saw the humor in his eyes.
“I guess some things never change, do they?” He stood up.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Lots change.” She kept her stare steady on him and the arrow even steadier.

  He was calm. “You don’t know how to operate the bow, Bronte. You should lower it before someone gets hurts.”

  “Point and shoot. Pretty certain that’s how it works. Don’t make a wrong move and I won’t have to prove it.”

  He laughed and it made Bronte’s hair rise on her arms. “What are you going to do? Kill me? You don’t have it in you,” he taunted.

  She had it in her and she could feel the desire raging inside to give the man what he deserved. “I won’t allow you to destroy my family.”

  “Your family?” he snarled in disgust. “You aren’t one of us, Bronte. I’d like to make you a part of us, but I’m starting to see it won’t work.” He took a small step closer. She backed up.

  “If you hurt me, the baby will be at risk. Then the spell can’t be lifted.” She doubted he knew the baby couldn’t be harmed.

  He rubbed his hands together, as if he were preparing himself mentally for something gratifying. “Death doesn’t scare me, darling.”

  “Let’s see how true that is. Take another step and I’ll have no problem testing the theory.” She knew he was quick. If she took her eyes off him for one second he’d be on her and her chances would be lost.

  “Hand it over. You’re going to die otherwise,” he sneered.

  Without hesitation she let go of the string and arrow shot. His growl hurt her ears as the sharp end went into his stomach. She’d aimed for his heart. He grabbed the stick and yanked it from his body. Blood poured from the wound, but he still stood. She had no time to react. He was near her, grabbing her throat with the supremacy of his large hands.

  Bronte felt the pain erupt into her chest, followed by the lack of oxygen. He lifted her up from the floor and she kicked but couldn’t make connection. She buried her nails into his arms but he didn’t respond.