Darkness Consuming: A Reverse Harem Series (The Severed Souls Series Book 2)

by A. K. Koonce

  “Are you fucking laughing at me after I just confided in you?” His lips tilt with a smile that makes me laugh even more. “And here I thought we were friends, Vi.”

  I bite my lower lip, forcing the demented laughter to halt.

  “I—I’m not a virgin, Cam.”

  His long lashes close slowly, pushing another droplet of water along his high cheekbones.

  “That’s really fucking embarrassing.” His words hum with amusement.

  The sound of his voice warms me inside and out.

  My father didn’t break him. The awkward Warlock I met nearly a month ago is still the same. I almost feel bad for him, but the happiness that’s blooming through me is stronger than the pity I feel for him.

  I could make us even, I suppose.

  I step back from him and I wait until I have his attention. When his gaze locks with mine, I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. When I toss the fabric to the floor, his brows are raised high. His warm gaze rakes down my frame slowly. My nipples pebble and I have to force myself not to fold my arms and cover myself up.

  “What—what the fuck are you doing?” The rasping sound of his voice makes my stomach tangle around itself.

  “I thought I could make us even. You confessed. Now I’m confessing.”

  His attention hasn’t left my chest in over a minute.

  “I don’t think this is how confessions work, Vi.” He finally tears his gaze away from me only to push his hand roughly over his face, raining water across his features.

  “I’ve never been naked in front of anyone before.” My fingers unfasten my jeans and I push them slowly down the curve of my hips.

  It’s true, I’ve never been this exposed with anyone before. I know I’m pretty; smooth skin, round breasts and small curves. I know that, but I’ve never felt as beautiful as I do right now. Cameron’s looking at me like I’m a goddess.

  It’s empowering. My jeans push to the floor and I step slowly out of them. And then … nothing. I don’t know what I’m doing. This wasn’t as thought out as it should have been.

  If I were closer, would he touch me? Would he glide his fingers across my abdomen, dripping warm water down my hips?

  If it were Nollix, I know he would. If it were Linkin, I know he’d pull me into the bath with him. He’d take his time just to show me how beautiful he thinks I am.

  I know them. I know them completely.

  I know them enough to know that they’d be furious if that Warlock touched me right now.

  Guilt tumbles through my stomach. I turn away from him but I can still feel his attention on me every step of the way. At my dresser, I pull out a white shirt and underwear.

  “I have your book.” Once I’m nicely covered up, I turn back to him. The worn leather of the book of Severed Souls is smooth against my fingertips as I pick it up and show it to him.

  For a moment, he searches my eyes. He doesn’t even look at the damn book in my hands. I think he’s trying to make sense of my weird change in behavior.

  Good luck. I can’t even make sense of myself, I don’t know how I can expect anyone else to.

  “Great. That’s great,” he says before looking away.

  I made things awkward between us. To be fair, he showed me his first, so it wasn’t just me who threw us into this weird nudity territory.

  He doesn’t look at me as he stands. Water cascades down the panes of his chest, and I try my best not to follow the path they trail down his hard body.

  Just one peek.

  Just one.

  That’s all I allow my gaze to wander. The smooth length of his dick is hard, and I stare blatantly until the white towel wraps slowly around his lean hips. When the towel is tucked safely in place and he’s covered up enough for me to think clearly, I tell him what I’ve been working on.

  “I watch him every day.” My fingers rub back and forth against the smooth leather binding. I’ve read and reread the book twice now. “He’s taking the spirits—the souls—and from what I can tell, he’s not strengthening them to build an army.”

  “If he’s not building an army of the dead, then what’s he doing?” His arms fold across his bare chest and he leans against the edge of the bath as it drains slowly.

  My lips part as my brows lower just slightly. Every single morning, I watch my father and every morning he does the same thing; he drinks that concoction like it’s his daily vitamin.

  “I think he’s devouring them. I think he’s consuming them and with the help of a spell, or with the help of the words from this book, he’s … becoming immortal.”

  Those two words give the Warlock pause and his big, dark eyes hold mine for several seconds.

  “If he were using them as an army, we could have put them back in their proper place in the afterlife.” His voice is quiet; regretful almost. “If he’s consuming them …”

  He doesn’t finish his thought and he doesn’t need to. I know exactly what he’s thinking and it makes my heart sink low until it drops right into my stomach and settles there.

  For years, I’ve collected departed souls. I collected them and assumed they’d go on into a place for eternal rest.

  I didn’t know until now that because of my father, there is no eternal resting. Only pain.

  And then, nothingness.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mine

  Nollix

  The protective way Cameron’s arm is draped across her stomach has me second-guessing myself. Violence doesn’t need me. She never did. I’m not an idiot to think she’s not fully capable of surviving without me. But seeing someone else take care of her the way I did … it fucking rips me open.

  Long lashes flutter across her cheek bones. She was sound asleep and it only makes me realize, he takes care of her better even. He gives her a peace and comfort that I’ll never be able to give her.

  Big eyes look up at me and I shift beneath her attention.

  “Come here.” Her whispered words shiver through the room and across my skin.

  Hesitant steps bring me to the edge of the bed.

  “I just wanted to check on you.” The excuse comes quick. It’s spoken evenly and I make sure to offer her a small smile.

  “Stay with me.” Her gaze searches my features. She watches my every emotion.

  But I have none to give. I don’t know what she wants from me.

  I’m not good at this. Even before I was in the Wild Hunt I wasn’t good at real relationships. Sex was easy. Friendships and commitments, I don’t have any experience with.

  But fuck I’m trying.

  “Please?” she asks in the softest tone I’ve ever heard.

  I start to nod, knowing I’ll do any damn thing she asks of me.

  But then she lifts back the blankets. She moves against Cameron, making just enough room for me to press myself against her.

  My brows rise just slightly. Her eyes narrow and the first hint of a real smile tilts her lips.

  “Are you afraid his hand might wander?”

  This is so fucked up.

  “No, I’m not afraid.”

  I am afraid.

  I’m terrified of how much I’m willing to do for her.

  It isn’t normal. All these fluttering and reckless feelings that are swarming through my chest, that shit isn’t normal.

  With stiff movements, I slip beneath the thin blankets. She lies on her side, resting against his chest. She’s curled around some other guy just like she was me.

  A strange feeling of rage settles quietly within my chest. My breaths are hard to reach. It’s an effort for me to keep my mouth shut right now.

  I lie on my shoulder, facing her. The candle light flickers across her pale features. It ignites the amber color of her eyes, turning the amber to embers in the dark.

  She doesn’t touch me.

  Her legs skim against mine. Her smooth calves push back and forth against mine. It’s an intentional sort of playfulness that I don’t return. I can’t.

>   I feel like shit right now.

  It’s hard to swallow but when I do, I make myself look away. I shove my eyes closed and try to force sleep to come.

  The gentle shifting of her legs comes to a stop.

  Good.

  Go to sleep. So I can get back to trying to find her and forget the screwed up way I feel right now.

  Soft lips press to my throat. I tense from the feel of it as a tingling sensation courses all through my veins.

  My eyes open just as she pulls back, her pretty gaze searching mine. My tongue rolls across my lower lip and she watches my mouth intently before tilting her head and skimming her soft lips to the curve of my neck once more.

  Her palm pushes against my chest, fingertips curling lightly against my skin.

  Her lips part and the heat of her tongue sears across the scar of the Wild Hunt that slices up my neck. My eyes close from the tingling feel of it.

  I don’t know what the fuck she’s doing.

  “You know I’m not a hallucination, right?” A smirk pushes at the corner of my mouth and unfortunately, she pulls back from me, putting too much space between our bodies.

  Cameron’s fucking hand still lays possessively across her hip. But I no longer see it. All I see is the heat in her eyes. The way she’s looking at me.

  It could burn me alive.

  She looks at me … like she actually likes me. Me. Not my body. Or my power.

  Me.

  Her teeth sink into her lower lip, biting it slowly. Without hesitation, I lean into her. I hold her gaze, keeping my eyes on hers as my chest presses against her breasts.

  Then my mouth is gentle against hers.

  It isn’t at all like the first time. It isn’t hungry. It isn’t for survival or whatever lies she tried to tell herself. It’s for us.

  Right now. All the shit we’ve been through. All the teasing and taunting. Our relationship comes down to this one kiss.

  And what a fucking kiss it is.

  My tongue slips across her lips and her tongue meets mine in an instant. She lets me caress her. My tongue makes slow work of stroking along hers.

  My palm pushes through her hair, holding her against my mouth. She hums a quiet breath and I’m faintly aware of how quiet she’s trying to be. It only makes me want to make her moan. I suddenly want to make her scream my name.

  But now is not the time. Now is the time for quiet kisses.

  While some other man holds her in his arms.

  And for some fucked up reason, I don’t even care.

  Because she’s never felt more like mine than she does right now.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Bell Tower

  Linkin

  I’m going to just say it, Nollix might be slightly addicted to this offering stuff.

  Or maybe he’s addicted to her.

  I weirdly understand that. There’s this alluring spirit within her that I’ve never been able to ignore. Even when she was so good at ignoring me. It’s the way she smiled when I thought the world had broken her. The curve of her lips and the happiness in her glittering eyes always surprised the hell out of me. She wasn’t just this dejected person filled with very warranted anger.

  Her emotions were resilient when a lesser person might have crumbled.

  Nollix is here now though and we’re finally getting somewhere I feel like. A quietness surrounds us as we walk up the smooth stairs. The walls of the bell tower echo our every step around us.

  I can’t help but pull my blade as we push open the door at the top of the stairs.

  I know he won’t be there. The King won’t just be waiting with a cliché villainous smile on his damn face when I open the door. But the nerves striking through my veins demands I be prepared for anything.

  My palm presses to the old door and it swings open with a crawling cry of the hinges. Crumbled brick, a mess of papers, and shattered glass litter the floor. The circular room has one single window that looks out at the gravestones lining the land.

  “Where we saw her first and last and somewhere in the middle, huh?” Nollix strides into the wrecked room.

  There’s no door within the room. There were no doors in the halls aside from the one leading here. A massive bell hangs above us, letting in the cool morning air.

  The king’s place of peace doesn’t seem to be what we’re looking for.

  “Could her words have had a different meaning?” I stand in the doorway, my blade fuming smoke as I let it rest against the old floor boards.

  “I didn’t hear the Witch’s words,” Nollix says quietly.

  Right. Because he was offering it up with the Reveries while I was trying to figure this shit out.

  On slow and tired steps, I walk over to the small desk and wooden chair. I can’t bring myself to sit where the King probably always sat. Instead, I lean against the desk. The legs scrap across the flooring as I settle in. My ankles cross, one over the other and my gaze drifts down.

  And then I see it.

  The board just beneath my boots is thin, sliced at a smaller size than the surrounding ones. I push my back against the desk a little more until it reveals another foot of space. Another board cut oddly among all the others.

  A knowing sensation skims across my flesh.

  I turn and shove it so hard the desk flips on its side, papers and glass shattering to the floor, only adding to the mess.

  “Hmm, I knew you’d finally snap one day. Aggression isn’t something to avoid but embrace, my friend.” Nollix clasps my shoulder as I stare down at the perfect square that’s outlined into the flooring.

  Then both of us are staring at the outline.

  Nollix lowers slowly, crouching down until his fingers pull at the closest board. It comes up easily. Hastily he grips the next and tosses it behind him. Then the next and the next.

  His hair hangs in his eyes, his knees spread against the floor. In silence we stare down into complete darkness.

  Heat fumes up from the hole in the flooring.

  If I imagined the structure, it would logically have to be set up opposite of the spiraling stairs that led us here.

  But there are no stairs leading down. There’s only shadows and heat like I’ve never felt before.

  “What if there’s a reason I can get to Violence by using the offering and you cannot?” Nollix doesn’t look at me and his words start to prickle at my mind.

  It seems the offering allows part of your soul to walk somewhere else while your body stays planted in the present. My soul wasn’t welcome wherever Violence is.

  But Nollix’s was.

  My lips part as realization trickles into my mind even if my mouth refuses to say it.

  It’s because Nollix is half Demon.

  The underworld would of course welcome one of their own.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Forever

  Violence

  “Daddy,” Amandria copies notes from the King’s journal, dotting her I’s with little inky hearts, “The Strengthening of Souls, have you tried that one yet? If you make the soul more powerful it seems they nearly become a solid structure. And this Bound by Power line here, does that mean they’re something like a servant?” Her index finger glides along the text.

  My eyes narrow on her ass-kissing ways. As much as I hate being here with my father, I hate that it’s a family event even more. As if she cares at all what any of this means.

  I waited with anxiety knotting my stomach all through breakfast for my father to mention Cameron’s absence. It was never brought up. Just like when I tried to use his own sedative against him, it was simply ignored.

  I have one day at the most before he notices Cameron’s missing. One day to put a plan into action. It’s now or never. I’ve learned all I can of what he’s done, who he’s harmed, and what will happen if he’s no longer there to sort through his stolen souls. The ones he hasn’t devoured, they can be put back … I’ll just have to figure out where they belong.

  A prickling feeling crawl
s down my arm, interrupting my plotting. It’s a knowing sensation. It’s familiar even. The under the skin feeling is that of the Wild Hunt. It’s something I haven’t felt for nearly a month.

  Not even when Nollix is near.

  I glance to Jeriko to see if he feels it too. With wide eyes, he nods after every single thing my father says. Sometimes I wonder what they discuss when I’m not here. They’re closer now. More of a father-son duo than I’ve ever seen.

  It’s insufferable.

  Another wave of the prickling washes through my body, and I take a quiet step back from their table. Both of them continue to discuss the swirling handwriting in my father’s journal. Some of his notes are word for word what’s detailed in the book of Severed Souls.

  Another three steps back and then I turn and slip away from the room entirely.

  I walk on hesitant steps aimlessly through the dark building. It’s set up like a home and a war bunker all at the same time. Thick sheets of metal lead me down a long hall and as I near the end, the prickling feeling starts to become piercing.

  It’s more intense than I’ve ever felt.

  My hand pushes across a metal door knob. Nerves buzz all through my body.

  The door swings open under my touch and there, standing in the corner, is Nollix Forester. There’s no godly glow around his image. Smooth skin and a tilted smile make up the man before me. I can’t explain it, but I just know.

  He’s really here.

  My gaze sweeps back and forth across the room. A shining desk sits in the far corner. The stack of papers my father was working on last night are toppled over and muddy.

  The mud caking Nollix’s dark boots catches my attention.

  The high ceilings are smooth, dark and entirely ordinary.

  “How did you get here?” The door pushes closed behind me and I turn the lock firmly in place. I lean there against the warm door for several moments just admiring the sharp details of his gorgeous features.

  I can’t help but remember how his lips felt against mine last night. Tingling and warm. Soft and caressing, so gentle it made me ache for more.