Blood Born (The Dark Hills Series Book 1)

by Hana Blue

  The powerful memory of his smell engulfing me, leaving my mind foggy. The images of him standing amongst the trees quickly changed as my imagination took over. Thoughts of his hands exploring my body, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like. His hands on my skin, his body pressed to mine, overpowering me, dominating me.

  Wondering what the creamy color of his skin would look like in contrast to mine as our bodies tangled together. What his eyes would look like hooded with lust looking at me. Damnit if imagining those cold blue eyes looking at me with desire and need didn’t make my entire body flood with an inferno of heat.

  My entire body tingled and warmed as the thoughts took over, leaving me breathless. Imagining his weight on mine, leaving my hands to wander, desperately trying to mimic the feeling my mind was creating for me. Reaching for my aching center that now burned for the man that only an hour before tried murdering me. Which admittedly made it more exciting.

  Then it all morphed into something sickening as I watched from the outside, leaving me to freeze in place. His hands around my throat, the murderous look returning to his eyes. I watched as I gasped for air, his grip ever tightening. A cruel smile forming on his full lips. Enjoying the sight of my fear. I watched as he braced himself above me as he slowly took my breath straight from my throat, taking it for good. But I wasn’t struggling, no, I just laid there. Almost like I welcomed the inevitable end at his hands. I watched my body go limp under his grasp as he placed a slow line of kisses down my jaw. Cooing at me as my heartbeat slowed, egging me on. Seductively leading me into my demise.

  Then with a cry, just as the life drained from me, I awoke with a scream. Jolting upwards in bed, making my back snap in protest. I fell forward hugging my knees, crying out into the darkness that now filled my room and an all too familiar drowning feeling in my throat.

  I gasped out in pain, holding my knees tighter, sitting in the pool of sweat that now drenched my sheets. Muttering unintelligible words of panic under my breath, I rocked. Much like a baby. The never-ceasing pain in my back building, I just rocked. I just wanted it to stop. The pain, the thought of this man killing me, touching me.

  “Shit,” I muttered. My stomach felt sick from the disturbing arousal that came from what would normally be a horrific dream. My body trembled with pain, and tears flowed again.

  How did this man, even from the beginning, even without a face, make me so weak? Since the moment I started feeling this gut-wrenching pain, I’ve felt powerless. Engulfed by flames and agony. I had never been weak, powerless, afraid. How could one man, mate or not, leave me feeling like this? How has he crushed all of my power?

  Tears started forming in the corners of my eyes again. I couldn’t tell if it was from physical anguish or that of a more mental state. Despair filled me. This wasn’t right, and I pondered, what if he had killed me? What if I had killed him? We made it more than clear, we could never find a future. Between us, the only way out of this pain was death. One of us had to die.

  “Aine? Are you ok?”

  Caireen’s familiar, timid voice whispered from beyond my bedroom door. A flood of relief filled me. I never thought the sound of her voice would ever make me feel so good, but it did. The door creaked as she opened it. Her movements were slow and cautious. I could tell she was weary, unsure if she should approach me or not, and I couldn’t blame her. With a deep breath, she entered the room completely and shut the door behind.

  “I brought some cream from Aster, it should repair your back quicker.” Her tone was quiet and scared as she held a slight amber jar up for me to see. I nodded solemnly and patted the bed next to me. She stood still in the dim room, just looking at me. I swallowed hard, struggling with her fear of me.

  “Reena, I won’t hurt you. You know this, right?” I whispered to her, not daring to raise my voice at all. Afraid that if I did, I would scare her off.

  She swallowed hard and came to sit next to me.

  She looked at me with a glacial smile. I knew she meant it to be reassuring, but it wasn’t. She silently motioned for me to lay back down, and I did. Slowly she pulled the sheets over my legs up to the small of my back, coving my bare marred flesh. I laid my cheek on the pillow, and looked up to her, peering at her gratefully, fighting back the stinging behind my eyes. She unscrewed the top of the jar and lay the lid next to me before she gently started applying the cream to my back.

  I could hear a sizzling sound as it touched my skin, leaving a burning sensation behind. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to remain still.

  “Ok Aine, talk. Tell me what you are, what I am. Don’t lie, don’t gloss over it, don’t bullshit me. I need to know. What is a blood born?” Her words came out broken, obviously from her fighting back her own tears.

  I drew in a lengthy breath, wincing as the pressure of my lungs filling made my back feel like it would sever in two. “A blood born, is what they call our kind,” I muttered. “I will tell you from the beginning, it won’t ever make sense unless you know exactly why we exist.”

  Caireen nodded, scooping more of the cream out onto her fingers, then applied it to the badly bruised flesh of my back. Rubbing it along my spine, swollen and inflamed.

  “When all creatures were created, they created wolves with extraordinary power. Beautiful, powerful creatures. Snow white, and larger than any normal wolf. They were pure. Angelic. It gave them a great honor, an incredible gift. It gave them the ability to take on the form of a human. They were the guardians of the humankind. For centuries to come they lived hand in hand with the humans, enjoying the closeness and friendship that came with their ability to take on their form. As with all things though, humans quickly destroyed something so precious. Greed and lust for power overcame the humans. They wanted the gift the wolves had. They wanted the power that came from the wolf form. For hundreds of years the humans sought a way to take the power of the wolves themselves, black magic and witches assisted many of the ways for them. The humans would skin the pelt of a wolf and hide it in the bark of the trees. When a full moon would arise, the men would wear the pelt on their back, and drink of an elixir made by the witches, allowing themselves on that one night to take on the form of a wolf.” I looked to Caireen, who looked at me blankly. Unsure of how to process the story so far. I smiled meekly.

  “Their search for the wolf form progressed over the years, many ways of doing so came about. Soon the world flooded with humans able to take on wolf form. They mated and passed on the curse they brought upon themselves. Some of them even breading with the pure ones. However, it posed a problem with humankind. The wolves created by man were unstable. They were not naturally wolves like us, or the pure ones. They were only human, they only had the ability to change. They found the change to be painful and horrific on them because it wasn’t natural. They called many of the men who took on the unnatural curse Lycans, and the humans named what they were as lycanthropy. Ruining the reputation of our gift and lumping us into a group with creatures created by greed.” I sighed. Approaching the point where I would have to explain our purpose. “Then we were created.”

  I looked to Caireen again, her eyes full of fear and wonder. No doubt realizing this would be the moment she should have experienced years before. “They called us the hunters. Over the years, to distinguish us from the others, they called us the blood born. Only because we were born with wolf’s blood, not the blood of humans. Over the years that name took on a more cruel meaning. Many assuming it meant we were born with a blood curse, but that was never the case.”

  “Why were we called the hunters?” Caireen’s voice squeaked out softly. I sighed.

  “They created us with power much different from the pure ones. They created us with an original purpose. Whereas they created the pure ones to protect, they created us to destroy. They gave us the gift to blend amongst the humans, a form to blend amongst the wolves, and then a form made to kill them. A form resembling a beast. A beast designed to rid the world of the wolves created by dark magic and hu
man greed. It wasn’t long before the hunters became the hunted, as the pure ones set out to protect the others, and mostly, our kind died out.”

  “Mom and dad?” she asked softly, closing the jar.

  I nodded with regret. “You were a baby when they died, but like myself, they were beasts too, but that is a story for another day,”

  “Am I?”

  I nodded again, meeting her eyes with my own. “You are.” I said with a deep sigh. “I never wanted you to hate yourself as I do, so I never told you. We never asked for this. We never asked to be hunters, we were born this way. Remember though, it is not a fault or a curse, it is merely a destiny.”

  A tear escaped the corner of her eye as she looked at me, the fear fading. “I love you, Aine.”

  I sat up, pulling her into my arms, holding her tight. “I love you more than words can even describe Caireen.” I squeezed her in my arms. “I would never hurt you. Never.”

  She sniffled softly and pulled away. “Who was that man, Aine? The one who tried to kill me, who tried to kill you?”

  I took a deep breath and locked my eyes with her. A sudden flood of strength and anger overcoming me.

  “A dead one.”

  Six

  The Hunting Game

  Dominic~

  A week later~

  * * *

  I watched as the girl filled the thick glass tumbler to the brim with scotch, for easily the fifth time this morning. Her hands were trembling a little as she poured. Her worried gaze ever present as she watched me, making sure that I was alright. Reaching out to take the glass, I reassuringly brushed my hand against hers.

  She smiled weakly, pushing her long golden hair behind her ear, her emerald eyes looking at me with concern.

  “Dominic, you realize what time it is, right?” Her voice was gentle, and incredibly angelic.

  I shot her a half smile, taking her hand in my own, and she blushed fiercely, her eyes avoiding mine. “I know how to tell time Missy.”

  She took her hand back and sighed. “My apologies Alpha, but isn’t ten in the morning awfully early to be drinking like this?”

  I leaned into the back of the bar stool, lacing my fingers behind my head, flashing her a cocky smile.

  “Who knew you worried about my well being so much.” I chuckled, eyeing her slowly.

  Her face flushed, and she squirmed under my gaze. It was almost as though just my eyes scanning her was enough to make her melt and panic all at the same time. I scoffed a little in the back of my mind, slightly embarrassed for her. How easily I could get under her skin, leaving no challenge. No working for it. No fight. How boring it must be to be so damn dull, I thought.

  She was a pretty girl though. She had a very delicate frame and long blonde hair that flowed around her soft face in waves. There was no doubt that she was pretty, but far too nervous and pure looking for my taste. I continued to assess her, my mind wandering to the possibility of her being a quick distraction. The longer I looked at her, the more my mind morphed her image into something else. Someone else. The image of a woman I couldn’t quite shake.

  Regardless of the amount I drank, or how much I smoked, that face still loomed in the back of my mind. Long black hair, golden, tanned skin, a powerful stare backed by taunting red eyes. The very opposite of the woman that nervously poured me drink after drink behind the bar. Whereas this girl was meek, sweet, almost like a child, her eyes full of wonder and naivety, the woman that haunted my memories, was nothing like that.

  The woman that called to me, tormented me, was strong. A proud-looking woman, full of confidence and strength, jaded and fierce. Eyes that held a million secrets, that had seen a million hardships and a lifetime of evil. Admittedly, a perfect match for the darkness that loomed inside my self.

  I cleared my throat. Sitting back up on the stool, I focus my eyes on the girl again. I must have zoned out far too long because when I finally saw her again, not just my imagination, she was looking back at me with prominent concern.

  “Are you ok?” She whispered, reaching to pull the glass away from my reach.

  Quickly I grabbed it from her hands, swirling the warm liquid around for a minute before taking a sip. Letting the scotch burn my throat on the way down, welcoming its harshness. “Melissa, don’t you grow tired of hanging out behind this bar all the time?” I asked her, leaning on the bar, resting my weight on my forearms. Arcing my brow, I smile at her flirtatiously, getting a thrill out of how easily I could fluster her. She took a step back, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She took a deep breath, then swallowed hard, with an audible ‘gulp’.

  “I don’t mind it so much,” She answered nervously, glancing down to her feet, her fingers still running along the edge of her shirt.

  With a devilish smile, I reach out, grabbing her chin and pulling her face closer to mine. Leaving her with no other choice than to look at me. She looked frightened for a moment, probably from the aggressive nature in how I grabbed her, but I didn’t care.

  “You don’t have to be so nervous you know?” I cooed at her, rubbing the pad of my thumb along her jaw. She swallowed hard again. I let my thumb slowly stroke her bottom lip, mulling over the pros and cons of the choice I was about to make. Realistically, in any normal state of mind, I would never consider her for this job. She was too innocent. But today, I guess you could say she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she was my target for the moment.

  I chuckled at her for a moment before licking my lips. Having made my decision. “When do you get off miss Melissa?” I asked her, letting her name roll off my tongue seductively. Watching her glow bright red again.

  This is too fucking easy, I thought. She nervously chewed her thin lower lip, debating on how she would answer, but I knew, and so did she. She would give in and tell me.

  “Dominic, you’re our Alpha, and it wouldn’t be right for me to go anywhere with you, I don’t want to be known as another one of those girls. I just…” She muttered softly, looking away from me again.

  I strengthened my grasp on her chin, furrowing my brow in disappointment.

  “I know who I am, and that isn’t what I asked you. I asked you, when do you get out of here?” My voice came out as a low growl, and she yelped softly as I pulled her closer to my face.

  “four o’clock.” She finally muttered.

  I laughed triumphantly and nestled my face next to her ear. “Good girl. I’ll see you then.”

  I released her chin, and she stumbled, grabbing the edge of the counter for support. I picked up the almost full tumbler and downed the liquid that filled it. I let out a ragged breath, enjoying the heat from it before I turned to her and winked. She stood still, nervously holding the edge of the counter. I eyed her over one last time, then exited the bar.

  Stepping outside, a cool breeze whipped past my face, filling my lungs with the chilled air, thick with moisture from the rain. The icy droplets hitting the bare skin of my arms felt refreshing, cooling down my heated flesh. I pulled in a lengthy breath, appreciating its chilly feeling and approached my bike.

  The drive back to the pack house quickly cleared my mind, flushing the effects of the alcohol almost completely. Which wasn’t something that I wanted? The clearer my mind got, the more it could freely wander back to the forest, back to her, without the restraints of liquid confinement. Without the chains of impaired thought, I could battle myself over the feeling of being a coward.

  By all rights, I should swallow all fear of what this woman was, and set out to find her. Learn her name at the least. Hell, who knows how that would go. What the fuck would I even do, knock on her door, fighting back the choking feeling? Introduce myself, shake her hand? Offer her some hollow, half-hearted apology for trying to kill her? Yeah, I don’t see that going over well. Especially when I can not decide whether or not I want to kill her. Realistically, this shouldn’t be a question. She deserves to die. She killed one of my pack, not to mention they raised me my entire life to eliminate her kind.
>
  In all reality, if I were to just kill her, all of this pain and agony that I have been living with would go away. My pack would be safe, and I could stop letting her face haunt with my mind. However, if I did, I would lose my only chance to experience what it would be like to have a mate. Someone perfectly designed to be with me.

  I parked my bike in front of the house and made my way inside. The house was full of laughter and joy, as the pack gathered together, enjoying the bit of downtime because of the rain. I made my way to the kitchen where most of them were eating snacks and guzzling soda as they laughed and joked with each other.

  “Alpha!” Ciri’s voice chimed out with a wave before her face twisted with disapproval. “You look like shit.” She laughed out, everyone else letting out a laugh in unison.

  I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Ethan crossed the kitchen, making his way over to the doorway where I stood. He placed a hand on my shoulder and laughed again, shaking his head. “Early start again?”

  I pushed his hand from my shoulder and shot him a glare. I knew they meant well, but after a week of them joking at my expense got old. As a grown man, and the alpha of this pack, I was pretty damn sure I had every right to drink myself into a stooper without their approval. I pushed through them and grabbed the bottle of vodka from the cabinet. “Carry on,” I groaned to them, lifting the bottle a little before exiting the kitchen.

  I reached the bottom of the stairs, and I heard them murmuring amongst themselves.

  “He’s going to kill himself this way.” I heard Ciri say sympathetically.