Willow Dark Storm

by ZL Morris

  Willow Dark Storm

  The Field of Blood, Book 2

  ZL Morris

  WILLOW DARK STORM

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  COVEY PUBLISHING, LLC

  Published by Covey Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 550219, Gastonia, NC 28055-0219

  * * *

  Copyright © 2019 by ZL Morris

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design Copyright © 2019 Covey Publishing, LLC

  Book Design by Covey Publishing, LLC, www.coveypublishing.com

  Copy Editing by Covey Publishing, LLC

  Printed in the United States of America.

  ISBN: 978-1-948185-67-7

  First Printing, 2019

  Also by ZL Morris

  For Friendship or Love

  Benji’s Decision

  * * *

  The Field of Blood

  Tallulah Falls

  Willow Dark Storm

  To my kids, I love you, but your dad can help you, too.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Bonus Cassius POV

  About the Author

  Note From The Publisher

  MORE COVEY BOOKS

  Chapter One

  A whimper echoes through the barren room as I stretch my legs, only to stop when the pain becomes unbearable. Over the past week, they left me alone in my cell. Before that, they forced me to work alongside and keep pace with the shifters with them. I barely managed six hours of the gruelling work before my body gave up from exhaustion.

  They dragged me back to the shithole known as my cell and locked me up as punishment. Since then, weakness prevents me from standing and moving to ease the aches in my body. Their latest sick game to play—only providing the bare minimum of food or water to keep me alive—leaves my mind foggy.

  With a tilt of my head, I stare out the barred window, situated high above, to gauge the time, but the grime on the glass blocks the sun. Closing my eyes with a sigh, I settle against the cold stone and pray for the day to go by swiftly and for sleep to come easily.

  The cell door squeaks loudly as it opens. Helpless, I flinch as the sound batters my ears. It clangs heavily against the opposite wall, sending vibrations through the floor to where I sit. My eyes snap open in time to spot a huge body stepping into my cell. My dry throat struggles to swallow the whimper forming there as his face comes into the light.

  The Alpha’s henchman stalks towards me with purpose. Crossing the dirty, empty room, he stops less than a foot away. His huge body towers over where I curl up on the floor. My body tenses to fight off the need to turn away and hide. I’ve learnt not to cower or shy away from them when they grab me. I pray the stench that covers my body hides the stench of fear coming off me.

  When I arrived, they used the first week to taunt and tease me. I expected rape to be part of their enjoyment, too, but quickly learnt that, because I’m human, I’m less than nothing to them. Even though I disgust them and they don’t view me as a sex toy, they used the threat to bask in the smell of my fear. I understood their games were power plays to scare me into not doing anything stupid. They didn’t need to, though; they already petrified me.

  Escape screamed in my head several times over the past few months, but after witnessing how powerful they were, I had absolutely no doubt they’d not think twice about killing me if I tried to run away.

  They’re animals in every sense of the word.

  “Come on, pet. The Alpha wants you,” the henchman demands as he yanks me to my feet.

  The bones in my upper arm scream in protest. He doesn’t need to use excessive force, but from the smirk on his face when I hiss in pain, I know it’s for his sick pleasure. My legs burn in agony from being forced to stand, and I pray he doesn’t make me parade around for too long. I know they’ll take great enjoyment out of my misery if I face-plant.

  The cold stone floor taxes my already-too-sore bare feet as he drags me to the door of my cell. He stops briefly in the doorway, and I want to curse when he reaches up to the familiar hook on the other side of the door.

  The first time they did this, I baulked at the idea they wanted to put me on display like a dog, but I have to put up with them demeaning me. They gave me two options: live with the collar and lead, or walk around naked.

  I chose the collar and lead. I wouldn’t make myself more vulnerable to them by being naked. I can only guess this choice was the Alpha’s doing. He comes across as a sadistic bastard, and it solidifies the fact they consider me a slave.

  The sound of the lock snapping into place on my neck sets my teeth on edge. Everything feels different. They left me alone for too long, and something unknown fills the air with a charge. I try to brush it off as paranoia, but my mind can’t shut out the feeling something is coming my way.

  The henchman wraps the lead twice around his fist to make it shorter, then clumsily makes his way down the hallway, giving me no choice but to follow. With the shortened lead and because he’s taller than me, the too-tight collar painfully pulls at the back of my already bloody and sore neck.

  I choke down a cry of pain as I stumble forward and out of the cell. The stones in the hall aren’t as smooth as the ones that cover the cell floor. How many people have walked the small holding cell over the years to make the stones so worn?

  Lost in my morbid thoughts, I don’t pay attention to what’s going on around me until it’s too late. The henchman pushes open the heavy door, and sunlight immediately blinds me. I put my hands over my eyes to protect them, but he doesn’t once slow his pace. His long strides don’t allow me to step carefully across the uneven ground, and I’m forced to follow blindly. I step awkwardly on a sharp rock, my ankle rolls painfully, and I lose my balance.

  The collar bites viciously into my neck, opening even more sores and likely inflicting new ones. I hang like a puppet for a few seconds before my legs gain purchase beneath me. That’s all I need—to live four months through this hell only to hang myself on a dog lead because of clumsiness.

  My blood turns to ice as the air unexpectedly shifts behind me, and a shadow settles over my own.

  “Such a silly girl. You should know to be more careful, my dear. All types of accidents can happen out here.” The gravelly voice speaks from right behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when his words register.

  I spin round as best I can, coming face-to-blood-splattered-chest with the Alpha. He’s a big son of a gun. He towers over my five-foot-two-inch frame, and for some stupid reason, the story of Little Red Riding Hood goes through my mind. I don’t own a red coat, but my wild red hair c
ould represent the hood.

  My mouth opens to say something, anything, then slams shut when I think better of it. It’s not wise to backchat the Alpha. He has a wicked temper. The screams of those suffering at his hands throughout the night nailed that point home. Too many nights, I laid in my cell with my hands over my ears in a desperate attempt to save my sanity.

  The air driving from my lungs yanks me out of my thoughts. He wraps his strong arms around my body with lightning speed, and my lungs struggle against his vice-like grip. His hold tightens further, and I worry my organs might explode before he switches the harsh hold onto my arms and roughly spins me around.

  The world whirls dangerously, and when my stomach finally settles, my eyes open. A gasp escapes when they settle on the strangers. How did I not realise until now they stood there?

  My eyes slowly move over them. For a second, I ponder if the lead choking me damaged my brain—lack of oxygen or something—because I swear I gawk at three identical people.

  With a shake of my head, I try to get my vision back to normal and realise I’m not seeing triple. Well, I am, but my eyes didn’t conjure them up. There really are three of them. While they wear similar clothes, they vary enough to not be identical. My gaze moves over their bodies and picks up on slight differences between them, and I finally study the face of the middle one. The breath leaves my lungs in a rush when I notice the colour of his eyes. They’re purple. I glance at the other faces, and their eyes are the same weird colour.

  With more effort than normal, I force myself to break the weird connection I sense between the four of us and take note of everything around me, including the body on the floor.

  Bile rushes up my throat, and I barely stay on my feet as I lose the acid in my stomach. Once my breathing is back under control, I wipe my wrist across my mouth, and my nose wrinkles at the disgusting taste left behind.

  Despite my efforts not to gawk at the lifeless body, my eyes have a mind of their own and shift back to the girl. She wears a short dress, no underwear, but the pool of blood around her from the wound at her throat holds my attention. My flight mode kicks in, and I back away. The Alpha holds me tightly, not allowing me to escape from whatever my new fate will be. With no clue why these strangers are here, a sick feeling flows through me.

  Whatever’s about to happen, I’ll be caught in the middle.

  All I can do is pray I don’t end up like her.

  Chapter Two

  My skin flushes in disgust as the Alpha’s hands move up and down my arms. His rancid breath ghosts across the flesh on my shoulder, and my throat constricts with the need to gag. His voice scrapes against my already frail nerves. I’m about to shut him out to hide the repulsion, but his words register in my mind. I’m instantly back on high alert.

  “Recently, things have become strained between my pack and your vampires, but I’d like to offer you the lovely Willow here. I hope you don’t mind me saying, Zadimus, but the three of you look as if you haven’t had a decent meal in a while.” One of the three vampires opens his mouth, but the Alpha doesn’t give him the chance to say anything. “Before you object, I know your concerns. She doesn’t look or smell appealing like this, but once you give her a good scrub, she’ll be a lot more appetising.”

  I struggle desperately to get away from this nightmare, but he grips my arms harder to keep me in place. Painfully, my teeth sink into my tongue to stop a whimper.

  “Shh, none of that, my dear. These bloodsuckers won’t hurt you… much.” He cackles but chokes off with a horrendous coughing fit.

  Serves you right, jackass!

  Over the course of my stay, I learnt a little about werewolves from what I overheard them saying. From what I gathered, they’re supposed to be super healthy and never become sick, but they’re dealing Wolfsbane. While cooking up their products, I witnessed most of the pack testing it before it’s shipped out. Although judging by the Alpha’s cough, I wonder if he’s on more than the small tester I’ve seen him try.

  The guy, who I assume is Zadimus, sneers, his lip curling up, and I get my first glimpse of a sharp fang. “It’s not wise for you to concern yourself with our eating habits, mutt.”

  I shudder from the sight, and a weird sensation courses through me. I peek back up at their eyes, no longer bright purple but almost an onyx. I know nothing about vampires, but even I’m able to work out the new colour means nothing good.

  I’m a human girl held hostage by a junkie werewolf while he faces off with what I can only assume is a very pissed-off vampire. My fingers twitch from wanting to pinch myself to see if this is a nightmare, but from the searing pain in my arms where the Alpha continues to hold me, there’s no way I could dream this shit up.

  The Alpha hands me over to his henchman, who drags me by the lead to the three vampires. “You and your brothers should take her, Zadimus. It’d be in your brothers and the Argent pack’s best interests if you take her as payment and be on your way. I don’t want, or need, your lot sticking your nose into my business.”

  My steps falter. The need to turn and get away bites at my ass, but I can’t fight them. No way exists for me to get out of this predicament, but I can at least hope the vampires are more in touch with their human side than the werewolves and let me go once we’re away from here.

  No amount of convincing will lead me to believe these guys will release me, though. I can guess they’ll decide to bleed me dry. Maybe, they’ll keep me alive, hold me prisoner someplace far away. Whatever awaits me with them has to be better than what I’ve faced here.

  I cower when the guy next to Zadimus snatches the lead out of the henchman’s hand. The colour of his skin against the black of his shirt is pale—really fucking pale. My mind tries to conjure up whether the rest of his body is the same. Should vampires be out in the sun? Don’t they let off smoke or turn into ash in the sunlight?

  The little I think I know comes from books. I’m human, and until my kidnapping, I didn’t know any other sort of being existed. I hope the tales in books have it wrong, and vampires don’t have a blood diet. Or they’ve somehow evolved into food-eating, fangy humans.

  The sound of feet shuffling across the dirt catches my attention. The henchman slowly moves away from the vampires without turning his back on them. He keeps them clearly in sight until he stands next to his Alpha again. Only then do his shoulders slouch, and the tension leaves his body. Is the vampires’ reputation so bad they make him that wary? Is that why they’re handing me over to them?

  I know the Alpha said he gifted me to them to keep them out of his business, but is there more to it? I’m too delirious to make sense of what’s going on around me. Whatever the Alpha’s agenda is, it could smack me square in the face, and I still wouldn’t be able to make sense of it all.

  Escape whispers across my mind as the vampire reaches towards my face. I try to step back out of his reach, but the lead pulls tight, halts my retreat, and makes panic rise within me. My breathing becomes choppy, and I desperately try to gain control. The worst thing I could do right now is pass out.

  Before I can get myself too worked up, a soft baritone voice pierces through the blood rushing through my ears. I’m not sure how or why, but it calms me enough I don’t feel as though I’m suffocating.

  His hand hovers in the air by my neck but doesn’t move an inch towards its destination. “It’s okay. I’m Lazarus. I’m not going to hurt you, but that collar looks overly tight. I want to loosen it for you. I need you to understand I can’t take it off until we get out of here. What’s your name? Willow, isn’t it?”

  I nod and quietly ask, “What will happen once we leave?” I tilt my head towards the dead girl but make sure not to let my eyes land on her. “Will you do to me what was done to her?”

  When he sighs, I realise I won’t receive the answers I long for. “I’m sorry, Willow, I can’t answer at this moment. But you’ll be coming with us, and we’ll discuss it more once we’re away from here.”

  “No more, La
zarus!” the third vampire barks in anger, making me jump in fright.

  The third vampire’s eyes are still onyx, while Lazarus’s eyes migrated back to a light purple—a lot lighter than they were when I first noticed them. My heart rate picks up for a different reason, and an impulse to comfort Lazarus flows through me.

  Fear keeps me rooted to my spot, though. I refuse to put myself closer to a vampire for several reasons, but two main ones keep me firmly in place. One, I stink to high heaven. Two, I don’t need for Lazarus to consider me a source of food. If I cuddle up to him, he may just decide I’m a walking, talking blood donor.

  The collar slackens around my neck, taking the edge off being strangled. My head tilts in fascination as the vampires all turn their attention back to the werewolves, and Lazarus’s eyes rapidly turn from light purple back to onyx. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit witnessing that change up close is weird. I can’t say it’s weird in a bad way, more… captivating.

  Maybe if we were in a different setting and my life didn’t hang in the balance, I might try to discover how many different colours they could change. Although, I don’t want to find out whether their eyes change colour when they feed.

  No matter what’s gotten into me, I want to put my curiosity down to lack of sustenance. Humans in their right mind wouldn’t feel the need to comfort a vampire or test their patience. I’ll be dead before I make it to our destination if I carry on with these irrational thoughts.