Grace mirrored the woman’s smile. “I can’t disagree with you on that.” Warmth flooded Grace’s body as she pictured Hawes, naked, his cock erect, kneeling over her on the bed. She sighed softly as she followed Mel out onto the front step. Her mind was less focused, it felt hazy, off-centred. Fucking Hunter’s Blood Moon.
Mel walked down the steps and then turned to Grace. “This is your last night before the Hunter’s Blood Moon. Your last night of freedom. If I can pull the women together, will you come to a party in your honour? We can have it at the hall.”
Grace grinned. That’s what she needed. A party to distract her from her carnal thoughts. And a chance for the women to get to know her, let her show them what a great Queen she’ll be. “What time? I’ll let Cordea know.”
“No!” Mel said quickly. “I love the old woman, but she’s as old-fashioned as bloomers. She’ll not want you to go and then you’ll either not go or you’ll have to defy her. Either way, she’ll tell Hawes. Isn’t it better that you just come? You can say you didn’t know better.”
Grace chuckled ferally at Mel. “Girl, you are someone I could grow to like.”
Mel threw her a warm, genuine smile. “Maybe we can be friends.”
Grace gave her another hug. “What time?”
“After Cordea is in bed and asleep. She’s old. She’ll go to bed early. So 10ish. I’ll spread the word. This will be so fun!” Mel walked away, a lightness to her step that Grace was grateful for.
Chapter 7
As Mel had predicted, Cordea went to bed early. Dinner was simple fare – fresh baked bread, some sort of meat chops, some greens. Over the meal, Cordea answered Grace’s questions about werewolves in general, their behaviour, their social patterns, their transformation. Cordea could still turn into a wolf but didn’t often anymore. She was considered a wise woman and the villagers kept her fridge and pantry well-stocked.
After they’d cleaned the kitchen, Cordea showed Grace her bedroom and excused herself for the night. It was not quite 9 o’clock. Grace sat in the living room, on the couch, in the same spot she sat earlier and thought about all that had happened in the last 24 hours. She’d arrived up north with her professor, Eric. A man she thought she loved but as the memory of his death flitted through her brain, she felt sadness, but not grief. Even the terror of the bikers, chasing her, trying to rape her, was fading fast. The thought of their deaths didn’t even evoke an emotional reaction. And her terror of Hawes was almost gone.
Was it truly the pull of the moon as it rose causing her emotions towards him to soften? Was it the brightness of its shine forcing her desire for him to pulse? Or was it her incremental belief that the prophecy was true? And if that was the case, should she embrace it? She would be mated to a powerful man. He would rule and she would be by his side. All would respect and bow to her. The lure of power was heady and it shuddered through her, fusing with her carnal desire, bathing her in a lust for control, for recognition, for Hawes. Making her needy, wanting, wanton.
Perhaps it was this Hunter’s Blood Moon, this closeness to Hawes. The realization that he was the one man in this world that she truly wanted to fuck. She knew it, believed it. And to be part-wolf! The idea was scintillating, electrifying. Even if the trait was latent, the knowledge would allow her to embrace it, explore it, leverage it. She groaned as dampness grew between her thighs. She wanted Hawes, wanted him now. She didn’t know if she could wait 24 hours for him to be inside her. He was there in her mind, fucking her from behind, his large, hard cock impaling her, shoving into her pussy, forcing its length, its width into her, piercing her, filling her up. Holding her waist with his hands, nails digging into her tender flesh. Pounding her virgin cunt, making her his. Taking her first blood.
The dampness was flooding her now, her desire spilling over and she ran her hands down her belly to her pussy, her finger circling her clit, urging it to orgasm. She was there, closer than she’d ever been, the pressure in her belly, in her pussy growing. The need, the wanting. She was on the precipice, the edge of the cliff, her fingers flew faster, she fucked herself with her other hand. But she couldn’t let go. She could not peak, not fly off the edge, no matter her thoughts, no matter her lust. She snarled in frustration as she kicked her legs out and slammed her thighs shut on her hands. Her fingers wet with her desire lingered close to her pussy. Then she brought them to her lips, licked them, sucked them, imagining, wishing they were Hawes’ cock. She felt like she was dying.
It was after 10 now, Grace realized as she looked at the clock on the fireplace mantle. Mel would be waiting and that was good. This party would be a perfect distraction. Get her mind off Hawes, off his hard body, his soft lips, his giant erection. She bolted to her feet. “Enough!” she whispered. She wasn’t sure who she was anymore. Not the anthropology student in love with her professor. A werewolf, an alpha’s mate, maybe a whore.
She hesitated at the door, thought of Hawes again. He would not like that she was leaving Cordea’s house. He worried for her safety. But if he were so worried, why would he saddle an old woman with the responsibility of minding her? A wolf beyond her prime that couldn’t stay up past nine to keep Grace company, to watch over her. He underestimated Grace’s will, thought her weak, servile, obedient. Maybe thought that after last night, she would be too afraid to step out of the safety of Cordea’s home. But the fear? She dug around inside her, searched for it. Nope, not there. The fear was gone, completely.
And her safety? She was not leaving the village. His village, now hers to rule, the benevolent queen. She chuckled quietly. What had happened between this morning and tonight to change her mind about everything? This morning she wanted to go home, she wanted to be rescued. This morning she was in denial. But tonight, she believed. She wanted to stay, she wanted to be part of this community. No, she wanted to lead this community, as Hawes queen. Hawes! She desperately wanted him, wanted him to fuck her, touch her, with his hands, his mouth, his cock. Her pussy throbbed in agreement. She craved him like an addict
She stared up at the night sky as she stepped outside. No streetlights in this village. No electricity. But that hardly mattered tonight. The sky was cloudless and bright, the moon, almost full, forcing the darkness to the shadows, leading her down the road. It was the difference, she knew. She felt its pull. She was one of them. She was part of the prophecy. It overwhelmed her emotions and tears of gratitude slid from her eyes.
The town hall loomed in front of her and she slowed her steps as she approached. No light radiated, not the flicker of candles or the glow of a fireplace. And so quiet. Neither movement nor the murmur of soft voices. Where were the women? Where were the lights? She stopped in the middle of the road and frowned, hurt flitting through her. Maybe no one was interested in attending. Or maybe Mel had been insincere, toying with her. This time her tears were of anger and she swiped at them. These bitches who dared to turn their backs on her! Tomorrow night, she would be their queen, they would bow to her! And she would make them suffer. She turned her back on the building, on the betrayal and started to leave when Mel stepped from the shadows.
“Grace,” she said in an urgent, hushed voice. “Here. We have to keep the lights low so that we don’t attract attention.”
Relief threaded through Grace as she walked towards Mel. She was too emotional, she scolded herself. Too quick to judgement. They were here. They came. They would embrace her, accept her, love her. It’s all she wanted. But as she stepped into the shadows she realized all wasn’t as it should be. A dog stood beside the blond woman, black as a demon, with red glowing eyes and a dark, endless maw for a mouth. So large it’s back towered over Mel. Grace stood rooted to the ground. “Mel?” she croaked, as terror threaded its tendrils through her body.
Mel’s smile split her face, but her eyes were ice cold, filled with hate. “Grace, this is Nordil, Hawes’ father. Nordil, this is Grace, Hawes’ mate.”
Grace gasped. She was too stupid to be the Alpha’s mate! So quick to believe Mel,
her desire for female companionship overriding her instincts. And where the fuck was Cordea, the supposed seer? Why didn’t she see this and warn Grace? Or maybe she did see this. Maybe the bitch was in on it with Mel. Maybe they both wanted her gone. “You bitch!” Grace seethed.
Mel’s smiled broadened. “Ah if the shoe fits.” She giggled as she moved past Grace, brushing her arm, unafraid. “I hope you two have a good visit.” She walked off down the road in the direction Grace had come as Nordil padded softly up to Grace and sniffed her.
“Ah, you smell innocent and… “ he paused. “Fertile.”
Grace jolted, took a step back and tried to run from him, but he was faster, stronger, perhaps more motivated. He threw his paws around her and swept her into him. Literally. Then he bounded away and out of the village.
Chapter 8
The journey seemed short but Grace couldn’t know for sure. It was across dimensions, not miles. She lost consciousness as Nordil crossed into the underworld and didn’t wake up until the hellhound dropped her. Her body connected solidly with a hard-stone surface and the pain in her hip and shoulder jarred her awake. Nordil stood a foot from her, his red eyes glowing, his blackness emanating from him like a mist. He was panting, his tongue, black like the rest of him, lolling from his mouth, saliva dripping from it. Grace rolled away a few feet to gain some space and sat up.
“Where am I?” She knew but wanted confirmation. She searched for her fear, the sudden terror that overwhelmed her when she first saw Nordil but couldn’t find it. She should be horrified, hysterical, fighting for her life but her emotions, her desire to flee seemed gone. She was in a large room, his bedroom, she thought as she eyed her surroundings. A fire in the hearth of a large stone fireplace flickered dimly. An unmade bed, a rough-hewn wood table and chairs. Chains on the walls. For what, his women? His victims? His pets? Everything was subdued, the light, the colour, the fire, like an old technicolour film. Faded. Maybe she was dreaming.
“My world,” Nordil stepped across the distance Grace had put between them and ran his wet nose over her, inhaling her.
“Underworld.”
Nordil nodded, still sniffing her. “You’re intoxicating, daughter.”
“Are you going to kill me?” Her words were muted, no real tone to them. Her emotions felt shuttered, forced together and restrained.
Nordil laughed, his jaws cracking open, huge glowing incisors exposed. “No. I might mate you.”
The knot on her feelings burst open. Grace’s anger started in her stomach and burned its way upwards, spilling from her lips. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
Nordil dropped to his belly in front of her, his tail wagging as he grinned. “Because it would fuck up the prophecy.”
“So would killing me,” Grace said flatly.
“Are you suicidal, daughter?”
Grace thought about this. It was a good question. “I wasn’t until last night. Until you sent three animals to kill my friend and rape me.” But her anger was ebbing, her words half-hearted.
Nordil scowled. “Yes. Useless assholes.” He shifted, brought his hind leg up to his ear and scratched it. It was hard to take him seriously when he acted so… so… dog like. “My son should not be my enemy and yet he is. He wants to usurp my position, take my world from me.”
Grace pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her calves. Her ass was starting to grow numb from sitting on the stone floor. “It’s foretold. Apparently, you can’t fuck with that.”
Nordil glared at her and growled. “Of course you can. I can kill you, I can kill Hawes, I can mate you.”
“You mean rape me.” Grace corrected him.
He growled. “You say tomato, I say tomatah.”
“You’re not my type, father. It seems a bit incestuous to fuck me, doesn’t it?”
Nordil stood up, towered over her, growled menacingly into her face, his incisors an inch from her mouth. “Why aren’t you more afraid of me, bitch?”
Grace curled her lip to emulate Nordil. “I don’t know. I think it’s because I’ve decided I am an idiot and therefore have forfeited my rights to a happy life.” Then she added. “And also because you’re a dog, and I like dogs. It’s hard for me to be afraid of them.” The Grace that she was, the tiny sliver that she had pushed into the corner of her brain, trembled. Use caution, you stupid mixed-breed. You don’t know a fucking thing about hellhounds other than the bullshit Cordea told you. And that old bat, well she can hardly be trusted. But Grace told her old self to fuck off and kicked her to the curb.
“Perhaps I should change forms.” Nordil said.
Grace was surprised. “Can you?”
Nordil sighed and sat down again. “No. You don’t appear to be an idiot, Grace.”
“I trusted Mel.” She reached up and gave Nordil a scratch behind his ear. His fur was warm to touch and a little of the black mist puffed up like dust as she ran her fingers over his head.
“Bad judge of character.”
Grace couldn’t argue with him. “And Cordea, you know her, right? The sister-in-law. Was she in on this?” She kept petting his head, scratching behind his ears. It was soothing to her and apparently to Nordil as he dropped down on his belly and nudged her hand when she faltered.
“That old bitch?” His lip curled and his fangs seemed to extend. “She couldn’t stay awake long enough to plan a betrayal. She fancies herself a seer, but she didn’t see this coming, did she?”
“That’s what I thought!” Grace exclaimed feeling a kinship with the black hound dog. In her mind, she could see him lying on the floor in Hawes’ cabin, in front of the fireplace as its hearth glowed warm, nuzzling the boy, the one she was supposed to bear, the one destined to become a God. He didn’t seem all that bad.
“Did you kill Hawes’ mother?”
“Yes. I was an asshole back then.”
“You’re still an asshole, Nordil.” She removed her hand from his head. “You sent three rapists after me.”
Nordil shook himself. “Yes. What a clusterfuck that turned out to be. Humans are so full of fucking morality. I can enchant them to do my bidding, but they already have to have the evil inside them. You’d think that would be easy to find, but it’s not. Even mass murderers have principles.” He swung on Grace, an angry glint in his eyes. “And you, the fucking virgin Mary, saying no to every man you thought you wanted to fuck.”
“I had no choice,” Grace protested. “I couldn’t consummate. It’s like something wouldn’t let me cross that barrier.”
“You could have consummated, you fucking princess. You could have just sucked it up and did the deed. Did you never think that once you gave in and fucked someone, that it would tip you over the edge? That you would no longer be repelled?”
Grace hadn’t thought that. Not once. Why didn’t she? “Would it have?”
Nordil shrugged. “Who the fuck knows? But it would have been worth a try.”
“You’re just mad because the prophecy is coming true and you don’t want to lose power to your son.”
“You’re living up to your birthright, bitch! Enough of this useless chatter. I’m going to chain you up. Hawes’ will look for you, he’ll come here and then I’ll chain him too. Until the Hunter’s Blood Moon is past.”
“How will you chain me, dog?”
He snarled viciously, his incisors dripping with saliva. Then he barked, loud and deafening and Grace covered her ears with her hands. Two men, demons, appeared and bowed down to Nordil. “Take the human and chain her by the neck. She’s insolent, so it’s okay if you drop her a few times.”
“You’re a fucking prick!” Grace screamed at Nordil as they each grabbed an arm and dragged her to a wall. They did drop her, twice, mostly because she was kicking and thrashing around. Stupid demons couldn’t seem to get a good grip on her. Maybe she was too corporeal for them. One held her down while the other forced the steel jaws of the collar around her neck. To this he added a four-foot chain that was shackl
ed to a welded panel in the floor. Grace had no choice but to sit. The collar was heavy and bit into her neck if she made sudden movements. They left. Grace cried. Nordil smiled as he padded over to her.
“Do you feel like a dog, Grace?”
“I feel like stabbing you in the ear with an icepick.”
Nordil roared his laughter. “You would be hard-pressed to find ice in this hell-hole.” Then his hackles went up and he stilled. “Someone’s here.”
“That didn’t take long.” Grace said as Hawes stepped into the room. Even in the underworld he was stunning. She felt her body respond, her nipples harden, her pussy grow wet. Fucking Hunter’s Blood Moon.
“Mel is dead,” Hawes said flatly.
Grace jerked at the news then cried out as the collar chafed her neck. “You didn’t have to kill her, Hawes! I could have kept her as a pet.”
He barely spared his father a glance as he crossed the floor and crouched down in front of Grace, testing the strength of the chain. “I did have to kill her, Grace. She fucked with you.”
Grace shivered, but it wasn’t of dread, it was of anticipation, desire. She could smell Hawes, his sweat, his musk, his wolf. It was making her horny in a way she’d never been before. Where had her fear of him gone? Where had her kindness, her empathy disappeared to? A woman was dead and all she could think of was fucking this animal. She smiled at him lasciviously, “Why am I not afraid of you?”
Hawes stood up and turned to Nordil, his glare raking the dog. “Let her loose, father.”
Nordil whined and dropped to his belly on the stone floor. He drew his paws over his nose and rubbed at it. Grace thought he was seconds away from showing Hawes his belly. She knew she sure was.
“There will be no second chances!” Hawes thundered. “Unleash her now or I will have you killed as soon as I’m King!”
“Do you think so? Do you think there’s time to get her back to the earth realm?” Nordil may have appeared passive, but his words belied his pose.
The Horror of our Love: A Twisted Tales Anthology Page 5