by Dee Garcia
Copyright 2019 © Dee Garcia
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the reader of this ebook ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Cover Design © Dee Garcia with Black Widow Designs
Editing: © N. Isabelle Blanco with Black Widow Designs
Formatting: © Dee Garcia with Black Widow Designs
Contents
Dedication
Playlist
Note from the Author
Map of Rosewood
Prologue
Act 1
1. Hook
2. Tinksley
3. Hook
4. Tinksley
5. Hook
6. Tinskley
7. Hook
8. Tinksley
9. Hook
10. Tinksley
11. Hook
12. Tinksley
Thank You’s
13. Hook
Act 2
14. Tinksley
15. Tinksley
16. Hook
17. Tinskley
18. Hook
19. Tinksley
20. Hook
21. Tinksley
22. Hook
23. Tinksley
24. Hook
25. Tinksley
26. Hook
27. Tinksley
28. Hook
29. Tinksley
30. Hook
Act 3
31. Tinksley
32. Hook
33. Hook
34. Tinksley
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Dee Garcia
Dedication
For anyone who’s suffered a broken heart:
Love will find you when you least expect it.
Don’t give up.
And yes, you’re worth it.
Playlist
Requiem, K. 626: Lacrimosa - Mozart
Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys
Lost boy - Ruth B.
Ride - Twenty One Pilots
Superficial Love - Ruth B.
Duality - Set If Off
Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift
Glad You Came - The Wanted
Not About Angels - Birdy
Instead - Ryan Amador
Little Do You Know - Alex & Sierra
Sail - AWOLNATION
Never Grow Up - Taylor Swift
Blood // Water - grandson
Still Here - Digital Daggers
My Immortal - Evanescence
O Magnum Mysterium - Nordic Chamber Choir
Faded - Alan Walker
Never Be Like You - Flume feat. Kai
DISPOSABLE FIX - The Plot In You
Señorita - Camila Cabello
In For The Kill (Remix) - Skrillex
Moonlight Sonata No. 14 - Ludwig van Beethoven
Hollywood’s Bleeding - Post Malone
Unsteady - X Ambassadors
Beautiful - Bazzi feat. Camila Cabello
I Wanna Be With You - Mandy Moore
It Will Rain - Bruno Mars
Titanium - David Guetta
Dusk Till Dawn - ZAYN & Sia
Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift
Death of a Bachelor - Panic! At The Disco
Crazy In Love (Remix) - Beyoncé
Blood - In This Moment
Click to listen here: https://spoti.fi/2VEPe4H
Note from the Author
Dear readers,
Before you jump headfirst into the magical realm of Rosewood, I feel compelled to advise you that, while Venom is a stand-alone, it is also the first installment of an interconnected series. Yes, the installments to follow will also be stand-alones, however, there will absolutely be elements and certain details that will be clarified and answered as the series goes along. That means you will one-hundred percent still have questions as each couple receives their HEA. I’ve done this with purpose to keep things, not only interesting, but to keep the interconnected aspect of suspense intact as well. ;)
Don’t hate me too hard, okay?
XOXO—Dee <3
Map of Rosewood
♫ Requiem, K. 626: Lacrimosa - Mozart ♫
Everything aches.
No—it screams.
Every inch of my body screams in agony to the point that, I can’t move. Yet, somehow, I am moving. The haziness in my mind won’t allow me to make sense of the how; I just know I am.
Can feel the cool night air whipping across my face with such speed, I grow colder by the second. Oddly enough, it feels good. So freeing, like flying once felt.
That’s when it hits me. This must be…
My lips quirk in a faint, pained smile.
I did it. I actually did it. I finally found my peace.
But as I crack my heavy eyelids open and see the tops of the palms blurring past the dark, starry sky, what’s left of my fragile heart sinks to the deepest pit of my stomach.
I’m upside down.
How am I…?
Takes me a moment to realize I’m being carried, by a formidable source, no less, that doubles my size. We’re running, too, flashing through the lush tropical forest of the island at lightning speed.
I know who it is before he can so much as speak.
“Forgive me, love.” It’s Callan—Captain Hook to most of Rosewood. I can just make out his booming voice, but it’s seemingly distant despite our proximity. “Forgive me, please. It was the only way...”
I haven’t the slightest idea what he’s talking about, but almost instantly, that longed-for sense of freedom, of peace, vanishes and I’m left with nothing but fear. Instinct calls for me to move, to wriggle free from his embrace and take flight, but my wings won’t even so much as flutter.
Of course they won’t. How could they when I...
Tears spring to my eyes as the harrowing memory slowly comes back to me. All the while, I lay here limp. Broken. Terrified. I’m literally dead weight in his arms, and it’s all my fault.
I should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy.
Streams of grief trickle down my cheeks, distorting my view of the full moon overhead. The breeze, one that’s far too cold now, amplifies the anguish radiating through my limbs. I don’t even bother screaming. Why should I?
I probably wouldn’t be able to anyway.
Callan squeezes me as if sensing my sudden realizations, cradling me tighter against his taut chest. I try catching a glimpse of him, but I can’t do that, either. My head hangs heavier than an anchor.
It’s right about then I finally grasp the full extensity of what I’ve done to myself.
I really am that broken now.
As mangled as he left my heart.
Flashes of our time together hit me in a reel, reminding me of why I became so irrational in the first place. Of how I ended up here.
“Stay with me. We’re almost there,” Callan coos. “Don’t think about the pain, just stay with me.”
Except the pain he speaks of seems to be dissipating.
The more I dwell on
it, the more I try to feel it, the less I can seem to grasp it. It’s like my body is somehow dulling it.
But how…
I can’t even finish contemplating it. From one moment to the next, a whole new kind of pain envelopes me from head to toe. My mouth is drier than a desert, tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. And my gums, dear God, my gums burn, as though I’ve poured acid in a glass and drank the entire thing.
Thirsty—I’m so thirsty.
No, famished.
My stomach contracts at the thought, bursting forth a protest off my tongue.
Callan tenses then, and curses under his breath as he bangs on a door with all his might. His door, I note the door to his home.
“Callan,” I whisper, wincing at the havoc raging through my mouth.
Glancing down at me in his arms, he flashes me a look that screams nothing short of remorseful and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Forgive me, Tinksley. When it’s all said and done, please forgive me. It was the only way.”
♫ Do I Wanna Know - Arctic Monkeys ♫
Watching Tinksley has become one of my favorite things.
She’s a wicked little creature, that one. And she doesn’t even know it; a heady combination of innocent and sexy.
Poised.
Demur.
Yet there’s such sass on her, too—a wild, mischievous side she can barely contain.
I would love nothing more than the chance to tame her, to own her, but Tinksley’s heart is spoken for.
Might be a good thing, honestly, because if I were ever to get my hands on her—may the Gods have mercy. I’d corrupt that little pixie with a singular swipe of my tongue.
Hence why I watch her from the obscurity of the shadows instead. Indulge in the rare moments she’s in her own company, free of that repulsive abomination.
Some of the things I’ve witnessed her do? Jesus. They’d ruin any man. But I pride myself on having ironclad restraint, a practice that took someone like me centuries to master.
And even now, I have days where impulse runs rampant.
The scenario playing out before me is a perfect example. Teeth bared, I’m barely withholding myself from remaining in place. Tinksley just emerged from a shower, her petit and deliciously curvaceous figure glistening with scattered droplets. Towel to her long blonde tresses, she stands before the gold-encrusted mirror of her vanity completely bared, drying off that almost translucent mane with meticulous strokes. The steady motion bounces the full swells of her tits, her pert little ass jiggling as well.
She’s a dream, a glorious dream I can fantasize about at any given moment of the day or night.
Especially after moments like these.
I can almost taste her on my lips, feel the delicate planes of her skin shivering beneath my palms. Every part of me vibrates with the need to possess her, to show her what a real man feels like. What a real man could do to her…
One day, I keep telling myself. Because one day, he will fall.
Won’t ensure my place with her, of course. We’re very different, her and I.
Where she’s purity and light, I’m maleficence and darkness.
Not that he’s any better. He, Peter Pan; the boy who never ages.
He’s a man, really, mid-twenties based on the in-depth examinations provided by my personal physician, but he’s yet to age a day since then. Somehow, he’s been granted the gift of immortality—or perhaps cursed—yet he’s not of my kind. Pan is human, complete with warm flesh and a beating heart.
How that’s possible? No one is for certain.
He’s one of a kind; cracked open his eyes one morning upon the island with no recollection of how he got here, let alone a thing about his past.
All he had to give was a name.
It’s been years since then. Many, many years in which I’ve watched Tinksley age by his side. When she befriended him within the luminous range of the Incandescent Forest, she was nothing but a wee little thing—a curious halfling disregarding any and every warning she’d heard about the mysterious man. As she grew older, they grew exponentially closer, spent countless hours together day in and day out. And upon her eighteenth birthday, he finally made his wicked move…
Tap, tap!
“Tinks, open up!” The abrupt sound of his whisper-hiss refocuses my attention from the not-so-distant memories.
Pinning him with my stare, I watch as Tinksley slips into her pearlescent robe and rushes to the window with a sneaky smile tugging her lips. As soon as she cracks it open, Pan pushes it up the rest of the ways and slides inside the feminine confines of her room.
Red-hot, irrational jealousy rushes through my veins like acid at the sight of her wrapping her arms around his neck. Even more so when his filthy hands slither down to her ass and squeeze. With a dip of his head, he seals their mouths together, reeling her in impossibly closer.
Her appeased little moans—I can hear them from here. My lip curls in a disgusted sneer. I loathe every single last one, loathe how he’s the one eliciting such sweet sounds from her, how he’s the one who can make her feel this way when he shouldn’t be.
Not in this realm or any for that matter.
That should be me. The incessant thought crosses my mind once more. Indignation then meets its green-eyed brother, balling my fists at my sides. I shake it away before it can fester any further and spin on my heels as Tinksley pushes Peter back onto her dainty cloud of a bed.
I can’t watch this.
Can’t hear it or even be near.
Yes, I’m fully aware it’s beyond foolish I feel this way. I have no right to it, no claims over this girl, but I can’t fucking help it. I’ve always been drawn to Tinksley, as though there were some sort of invisible tether luring me toward her. During her adolescence, the pull was strictly intemerate. Watching her grow and blossom into the woman she is today filled me with nothing but pride. But the closer she grew to Pan, the more it began to evolve of its own accord.
Wasn’t until he got his hands on her that such proprietary carnal desires arose like a wild blaze.
He had her…and I wanted her.
And it’s been that way ever since.
“Peter,” Tinksley mewls from behind me.
I have to grind my jaw together to keep the rage at bay as a white-hot flame licks up my spine. I’m tempted to see what exactly triggered such a delectable sound, but I quickly decide against it. I can barely stand the sight of them sharing a kiss.
That very image attaches itself to the soundtrack behind me, forcing my eyes shut. I clamp them tightly and shake the torment from my mind, a torment that comes and goes with each passing day in which she’s none the wiser. I’ve tried finding a way around it, but that goddamn spell is bound too tight.
One last moan breaks through, then I’m gone. Lush grass to the soles of my boots, I evanesce my way north through the forest, cutting through the Fae’s shadowy domain that opens up to the town’s square. Spares me from risking a run-in with the Native’s and the Lost Boys.
They’re not exactly Captain Hook fans these days.
“Tigerlily!” Her name erupts from deep within my throat, the monstrous sound reverberating through the palace as the front doors crash into the walls. “TIGERLILY!” I bellow a second time.
A sudden flash of light on my right grapples my attention.
It’s Samuel, my right-hand man, sauntering out of the parlor as he adjusts his belt. Behind him trail Nina and Brielle hand-in-hand, two of the Sacred Six. Each of them don a flustered blush and a cheeky smirk. The witches then quickly inch up on their toes, plant a kiss to either side of Sam’s face, and scurry out with a giggled, “Goodnight, Captain,” in tow.
Once they’re out of sight, Sam drags his gaze to meet my stare, his lips spreading slyly at my unamused expression. “What?” He shrugs.
“Aren’t they like…a thing?”
Sam’s smile widens all the more. “They are, but they enjoy a good cock every now and then.”
&nb
sp; “And your dick just happens to be there ‘every now and then,’ correct?”
I wonder where the hell Tigerlily is.
“Sometimes. Others it’s Armand. Malik and Kaz have indulged, too. Tigerlily was in the library last time I saw her, by the way,” he explains, clearly reading my mind.
At the roll of my eyes, he snickers knowingly like the little maggot he can be.
I detest when he does this, though, it’s not always intentional, if I’m being honest—the boy can’t control it. You see, Sam once obtained the gift of telepathy, and while he still has some access to such powers, it’s not nearly as adept and accurate as it once was. Still, he can oftentimes read me—and everyone else—as if immortality hadn’t claimed the bulk of his abilities.
Rather than get on his case for infiltrating my mind yet again, I simply tip my head and cut my eyes up to the top of the staircase. Why hasn’t this girl shown her face yet? “You’d do well to remember that, despite how alluring they may be, they’re still witches. Witches who don’t particularly agree with our way of life.”
“They’re not like the rest. Nina and Bri are far more laid back,” he argues.
“When they’re playing with your dick,” I look to him once more, “yes, I believe it. However, they’re still a very large part of the Sacred Six. Just be—”