Cruce moved closer still, avoiding the light cast from within the building. The mortal swept her hair back out of her face. Her skin looked so smooth and soft, so warm, and he longed to caress her with his own hands, but he would not be able to reclaim his physical form for nine more days, when the full moon rose on All Hallows Eve. Only then could he trail his fingertips over her pale flesh and share in her heat. Only then could he truly know her taste. Perhaps the timing of her arrival was more fortuitous than he’d first realized.
Were long dormant desires truly the cause of the pull he felt toward her? He hungered, yes, but this was more than mere hunger, more than lust. This was something new, and his instinct was to await the full moon to learn the truth of it.
Until then…
No. There was no sense in waiting, no sense in giving in to vague, mysterious feelings. He hungered now, and that hunger tore at him, bleeding into every wisp of his incorporeal being, demanding satisfaction. This mortal’s life force would go a long way in quieting his hunger.
She stepped to the window and reached up to check the latch before grasping the curtains. Her lips were a healthy pink, her hair the same auburn as many of the autumn leaves overhead. She hesitated, her warm brown eyes — the most honest eyes he’d ever seen — falling upon him. For an instant, he felt connected to her and could almost see thin, silvery strands leading between them. Hunger roared within him, but it was a different sort of hunger, deeper and more consuming than his need for stolen life energies.
It was a hunger solely for her.
After a few moments, she shook her head, dropped her gaze, and pulled the curtains closed. The connection was immediately severed, and the emptiness within Cruce expanded to new depths. The interior light was reduced to a narrow line at the center of the window.
Leaving part of himself anchored in the shadows of the undergrowth, Cruce glided closer to the glass, stretching across the open ground. Through the slitted curtains, he saw the mortal walk to the far side of her bed. She crawled atop it, drew the blanket over herself, and reached for the lamp on a nearby stand.
There was a soft click, and the room was plunged into darkness.
She was entering her most vulnerable state — sleep. Not that humans were able to defend themselves against him, these days. They seemed to have lost their knowledge of the traditions and rituals that might once have afforded them some protection from beings such as Cruce.
Withdrawing from the window, he crept toward the front of the cabin. The forest’s night sounds assailed him from all around; every living thing within his domain demanded his attention at once. Even the trees called to him. At the height of his power, the networks of tangled roots beneath the ground had served as a series of highways for him, and his magic had allowed him easy passage. Now he was reduced to stalking between the boughs like a shameful beast.
Long ago, he might’ve considered the wellbeing of his woods and the creatures dwelling within them.
These days, hunger seemed to consume his every thought.
He swept up to the side window and peered through. The interior lights were off, save for a relatively small, soft one in the kitchen. It cast deep shadows across the rest of the large room, providing a potential path with minimal exposure along the way. The light wouldn’t do him any lasting harm, but it weakened him significantly, and he had no desire to feel weaker than the curse had already left him.
He continued forward, rounding the corner and flowing through the porch railing. The female mortal’s scent lingered here, a single point of clarity where all else was diminished and distant. Cruce paused to luxuriate in it. Now that he was closer, he detected the femininity of her aroma, and it stirred something within him that hadn’t been awoken in ages.
Flattening himself against the wooden floorboards, he passed through the tiny gaps beneath the front doors. The air inside the cabin was noticeably warmer — for Cruce, that meant a slight shift toward more tolerable cold. There was no longer heat in his existence.
Cruce swept across the floor, veering away from the kitchen’s glow. He passed through the shadows of her upholstered seating, unable to bring himself to study the objects around him because her smell was growing stronger, and he yearned, he hungered; he needed to have her.
Hunger outweighing caution, he crossed through the light and slipped through the open doorway into the mortal’s bedchamber. He drew himself up, gathering the wisps of shadow that comprised him into a vaguely humanoid form.
The darkness of her room was welcoming. Starlight — as bright to him now as daylight once had been — flowed in through the slitted curtains. It gently draped her body, which was obscured beneath a blanket, in a silver glow. The paleness of her face was accentuated by her shimmering hair.
He moved closer to the bed. The mortal’s life force pulsed from her, sweeping over him in a warm, consuming wave that made his shadows ripple. Her scent was more concentrated here, more alluring. Forming a hand from his darkness, he reached toward her. The faintest brush against her skin would give him a tantalizing sample of the sustenance she would provide.
Placing his hand atop the blanket, he focused his will on interacting with it. As a shade, he did not fully exist in either the physical world or the realm of spirits, making it difficult for him to interact with either plane. But the full moon of All Hallows Eve was near, and his ability to manipulate physical objects was strengthening with its approach. On that night, the veil between realms would be weakest, and his curse would afford him a physical form — a vulnerable, mortal body, divorced from the powers he’d once commanded.
Slowly, Cruce drew the blanket down the human’s body. She stirred, rolling onto her side, and curled on herself as though seeking warmth or comfort. The crease between her delicate brows caught his attention; it seemed a troubled expression.
He had no reason to concern himself with the cares of mortals. At best, they’d been worshippers, making offerings and paying respects, but those days had long since passed. Now they were either potential threats to his forest or food — usually both. His dependence on them to satiate the worst of his hunger was infuriating and insulting, just as the queen had undoubtedly intended. But at least feeding on humans prevented him from taking from his forest and weakening himself in the long run.
As he swept his gaze over this small, vulnerable mortal, studying the way her bedclothes sculpted to her thighs and the curve of her backside, her scent permeated his very being. He shifted his hand to her pants and trailed it up her leg. The soft fabric was merely a suggestion of feeling beneath his fingers, a phantom sensation for a phantom hand, but the warm, yielding flesh under that layer of fabric was real. He felt it, felt her.
It was unlike anything he’d experienced since he was cursed.
Cruce moved his hand higher, thrumming with anticipation — but for what? For a taste of her life force, or a taste of her?
He withdrew his hand, reabsorbing it into his shadowy form. The heat he’d felt through her bedclothes spread through him for an instant — the first taste of warmth he’d had in nearly two decades. It gave way to familiar, numbing cold as it faded.
During the long years of his curse, he’d fed his hunger by draining the life from countless creatures — human and animal alike. Not once had contact with any of them produced such sensations. The rush of freshly consumed life force was a euphoria all its own, however fleeting, but this touch was too intriguing to dismiss outright.
He felt his form stretching and growing, rising to envelop the mortal and rip her life force from her chest, to greedily devour her essence. Something within him protested; this was not right.
The female moaned and turned onto her back, drawing a hand up to rest beside her head.
Cruce jerked himself backward, thinning against the wall. Hunger strained within him, pushing toward the mortal, drawn to her heat, her soft breath, her life, threatening to tear him asunder as it battled that sense of wrongness.
The mortal’s scent
eased over him again, eased through him, and he latched onto it.
He was not a slave to these urges any more than he was a slave to the fae queen. Cruce was master of these woods, lord of this forest, and he would not take this mortal. Not yet. She was too intriguing. After nearly two centuries of monotony in his damnation, she provided the first chance for change.
His curse was not broken, but if he could bypass some of its effects, even for a short while, it would be well worth the delay in devouring her essence. Once she no longer served as a worthwhile diversion, he could be rid of her. After All Hallows Eve.
With one final glance at her troubled face, Cruce withdrew from her home and darted deeper into the forest. Tonight, he’d have to feed upon one of the beasts he’d once protected to sate his hunger.
Chapter 2
Sophie woke, shivering, to a beam of bright sunlight shining through the slit between the curtains. She was curled into a ball at the center of her bed, arms tucked close to her chest and hands fisted beneath her chin. Cool air kissed her exposed skin where her pajamas had ridden up. She sighed, closed her eyes, and reached down for the blanket. It wasn’t there. Lifting her head, she opened her eyes and looked toward the foot of the bed.
One corner of the blanket lay at the edge of the mattress; the rest had fallen off the bed sometime before she’d woken.
Groaning, Sophie dropped her head onto her pillow and glanced at the clock. It was a quarter till nine. She stared at the glowing green numbers with some surprise. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept past six.
She’d expected to sleep fitfully, to wake up randomly throughout the night. The routine had been drilled into her for years — get up early to set out Tyler’s clothes, make coffee and breakfast, and ensure he had everything he needed to start his day. Though it had been six months since they’d lived together, she’d never been able to turn off the internal alarm that went off every morning, demanding she get up and get moving or suffer the consequences.
But for the first time in a long while, Sophie had slept deeply. Comfortably. Her body felt relaxed and refreshed, and embarrassingly, there was a faint pulse between her legs. She couldn’t remember having any dreams, but she imagined they must have been good for once.
Despite feeling rejuvenated, she was freezing.
Sitting up, she slipped off the bed and slid her feet into her warm, fuzzy slippers. Making her way into the living room, Sophie grabbed her throw blanket, swung it over her shoulders, and pulled the sides closed over her chest.
She crouched in front of the woodstove and opened it. “No wonder it’s so cold in here.”
Picking up the fire poker, she stirred up the ashes, revealing the few embers still glowing within. The fire had nearly burned out during the night. She could only hope she’d have a good feel for how to keep it burning comfortably from dusk to dawn by the time winter set in. She added some newspaper and another log, lit the paper with a match, and waited to make sure the wood caught fire before closing the stove and heading into the kitchen to make coffee.
Not long after, she stepped out onto the porch with the blanket on her shoulders and a steaming mug cupped between her hands. The air was brisk, and the sheen of frost covering the fallen leaves gleamed in the golden morning light, sparkling like diamonds scattered across the ground. Sophie inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, relishing the fresh air.
Her skin tingled with the sudden sensation of being watched, and her heartbeat quickened. She scanned her surroundings, sweeping her gaze over trees and undergrowth, but just like the day before, she saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Hello?” she called.
The only answer she received was her own echo.
Sophie released a long, slow breath and shook her head, running a hand through her mussed hair. “God, he screwed me up.”
Shoving aside all thoughts of Tyler, she blew on her coffee and took a careful sip. She let herself enjoy the cool, bright morning, let herself soak in the beauty of nature. She’d lived in the city for her whole life until she’d moved to the suburbs with Jeff, and this was a welcome change from those manmade, manicured landscapes. This was the first place she’d been that felt peaceful.
Except I still feel like I’m not alone.
Clenching the edges of the blanket together with one hand, Sophie peered over the rim of her mug to search the trees again before turning around and going back inside.
After getting dressed and brushing her hair and teeth, Sophie took a trip to town — a twenty-minute drive through winding backroads that cut through lush forest and green hills. The town itself, Raglan, was small, with gorgeous, old-fashioned homes lining the main road. Pots of orange and yellow mums hung from the light posts along the sidewalks, and pumpkins, ghosts, skeletons, and witches decorated the lawns and windows of many of the houses.
Sophie smiled. With everything that was going on, she’d forgotten how close Halloween was. It had been her favorite holiday as a child, and she still loved it as an adult. She loved seeing all the costumes as kids ran from door to door trick-or-treating. In years past, she’d bought boxes of full-sized candy bars, decorated her house, and even worn her own costumes as she waited for the neighborhood kids to show up. The weeks prior to Halloween used to mean horror movie marathons and trips to Halloween stores just to look around in delight.
Her smile fell. That’s how it had been until Tyler decided he didn’t want his wife displaying herself to all the local teenagers.
She shook her head; she wasn’t under his control anymore.
Turning into the parking lot of the local grocery store, she found a spot and cut the engine. She grabbed her purse and dug her phone out. Her brows rose; seven missed calls and fourteen messages. Sophie chuckled and skimmed through the text messages — all from Kate.
How was the drive?
Are you getting settled in? I want pictures!
Why haven’t you called or texted? Getting worried here.
Sophie, ANSWER YOUR PHONE!
“Oh, Kate.” Sophie smiled, pressed the call button, and lifted the phone to her ear.
The first ring was cut short by a familiar voice. “It’s about damn time! Where have you been?” Kate demanded. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since yesterday! You can’t do that to me!”
“I know! I’m sorry! I would’ve called you, but there’s no cell reception at the cabin. I’m in the grocery store parking lot right now.”
“What about Facetime?”
“I’m getting the internet installed this afternoon.”
“Good.” Kate sighed. “Sorry, Sophie. I was worried.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” Sophie tightened her grip on the phone. “Is he…?”
There was a sound on the other end, as though Kate was pulling down the blinds. Sophie could just imagine her peeking through the slits to look across the street. “He’s still at the house. I’ve been keeping an eye on him.”
Sophie released a soft, relieved breath. Kate lived directly across from the house Sophie and Tyler had shared, and she’d been Sophie’s secret friend while Tyler was at work. It had been difficult in the beginning; Sophie hadn’t wanted anyone to know what went on between her and Tyler. She’d pretended not to know Kate — beyond being the woman from across the street — when he was around, which had involved playing dumb at the supermarket from time to time.
But Kate was a smart, compassionate woman. She’d picked up on the signs, and she’d noticed Sophie’s bruises. The first few times, it had been easy to play them off as the results of accidents; Sophie claimed clumsiness, her lack of coordination hadn’t been a lie. But before long, Kate’s perceptiveness became too much, and Sophie had admitted the truth. She’d begged Kate not to say a word. She didn’t know what Tyler would do to her or Kate if word got out.
Kate had agreed with extreme reluctance, under the condition that she and Sophie work together on a plan to get her out of the relationship safely. Even
then, Sophie hadn’t believed there could be a safe exit from her marriage. But they’d kept up the friendly neighbor act, kept outwardly pretending everything was all right, everything was normal.
And Kate had kept her word. Their plans to get Sophie out hadn’t made a difference, in the end, but Kate’s friendship was what saved Sophie.
Kate’s guilt for holding her silence and not acting sooner was immense, but Sophie had made it clear in the time since — she owed her life to Kate. They’d been working together ever since to take all the necessary legal action and make sure Tyler never found Sophie again.
“What’s he been doing?” Sophie asked.
“I’m…not sure. He’s still angry. I heard him shouting the other day, and he took a bunch of trash out to the curb on garbage day this week. I think a lot of it was stuff you left behind, because he dragged most of it back inside right before the truck came. I think he’s obsessing. Bad.”
Sophie closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headrest. “Thank you, Kate. For everything.”
“Of course. I just want you safe. And once everything has settled and your divorce is official, I’m coming to visit! I could use a little country air.”
Sophie smiled. “It’s beautiful out here. There are so many colors.”
“It’s a date then.”
They spoke for a little longer before Sophie ended the call, promising to Facetime her later.
She got out of the car, locked it, and walked into the grocery store.
Several people watched her as she entered the building. Sophie offered a timid smile to one of them, an older woman who was working a check stand, and grabbed a cart. It didn’t take her long to get what she needed — she wanted to keep things simple, which meant a lot of soup and sandwiches for the next few weeks. After stopping to pick out a birthday card for Kate, she headed up to the check lanes. The store was smaller than she was used to, and the prices were higher, but she didn’t care. The move already felt worth it.
His Darkest Craving Page 2