“No, it isn’t. Your problem is this,” he said, closing the distance between us. “You’re my prisoner, and you have no magic. You have no way to escape me this time.”
“I don’t want to escape you,” I replied, noting the narrowing of his eyes at my reply. “Do you remember what I said as you died from poison in your last rebirth?” I asked.
“That it would be the last time you took my life.” He snorted as a sardonic smile tilted his mouth. “You failed, because here I am, sweet girl.”
“I didn’t fail, Braydon. It wasn’t your death that triggers the end of this curse. It’s mine. Maybe this was the Goddess’s way of forcing my choice. Witches are ingrained with the need to survive. To live until the coven comes to save you. Our magic guides them to us. It protects us until they can reach us. So, I didn’t fail.” I smiled sadly as I watched his smile fade. “When the madness takes you, you will murder me, and you will end the curse. I will not murder you, so this cycle will be the last dance we share. The world cursed us to be soulmates. My mother cursed us to find one another in every rebirth and to fall in love all over again. Once we hit that mark, it triggers your madness. The curse that unleashes your berserker to destroy me, and how you do destroy me is beautifully poetic. I’m the battle you wage, and the one you never win. Until now, now you have me defenseless, and you will kill me.”
“You think I haven’t taken precautions against that happening? You’re not the only witch in the bayou or the only one who wants this to end differently. Curses have an out clause, witch. You know that. You never even bothered looking for it.”
“I searched the fucking world for it, Braydon! I scoured this world endlessly as I avoided you to prevent the inevitable from happening. On your first rebirth, I avoided you like the black plague that visited London. I sought cures in new worlds and old ones. I sought voodoo priestesses and monsters alike to save you from me. The only thing that freed you from it was playing out. So do whatever it is you plan to do to me. I’m exhausted. My magic is gone, and I feel as if I’ve been torn into pieces and scattered throughout the realms. I need to rest, please.”
“You want mercy from me?” he snorted, his eyes slowly taking in my stained dress and the slump of my shoulders.
“You need to hurry with the three F’s, Viking.” My hand lifted, running against the side of my temple, where a new pounding had begun.
“The three F’s?” he inquired carefully, his eyebrows pinched together in question.
“Free me, fuck me, or feed me. I don’t care which order you proceed in, but you need to do one of them soon,” I mumbled thickly as a popping noise sounded in my head. My nose exploded, and blood dripped down my chest as I swayed on my feet.
“Little witch,” he murmured before he caught me as I began to pass out. I sensed his strong, warm embrace as he lifted my body in his arms, cradling me closely against his. “I have you, Laura,” he whispered against my ear as I gave in to the blackness that pulled me down.
Chapter 3
The smell of a male brought me awake from a dead sleep. Arms had wrapped around me, and I pressed my body against the hard muscles that offered protection. The fact that his flesh touched mine told me he’d removed our clothes before placing me into his bed. In sleep, Braydon was masculinity in raw perfection. High chiseled cheekbones cut strikingly against his bronzed cheeks, dusted by thick, black lashes. His full lips brought up sinful memories of what they’d done to my body, time after time. His beard was full and yet trimmed. Sleep had tousled his dark, blond hair. Absently, I lifted a hand to push the stray strands away from his face.
I yelped as his hand caught mine before I touched him. His massive body rolled mine, trapping me beneath him as his large hand captured my wrist high above my head, holding me with his weight alone. Ice-blue eyes, the same color of the fjords of Norway in winter, watched me through half-hooded slits.
“Careful, little witch,” he warned, lowering his mouth to kiss the hammering pulse in the hollow of my throat. His hips ground against mine, the erection sending my need to a boiling burn that threatened to undo me.
“Or what?” I whispered, inhaling his unique scent that was a drug through my system. My hips rolled invitingly, knowing that I was in a precarious position, but it didn’t matter. Nothing ever had when I was with him.
He chuckled darkly as he allowed me to grind against his silken length until my arousal glistened over it. My nipples pebbled with the need for him to touch them, and everything woman in me screamed for the berserker to let loose. I moaned as his cock skimmed over the ball of nerves in my clitoris as he growled hungrily, watching every emotion that played over my face.
“You’re playing with fire, one that you won’t survive if lit, woman.” His warning trembled through me, and I blinked past the tears that pricked my eyes.
I bucked against him, twisting my arms as my eyes closed, blocking the fire banked in his blue eyes. “Get off of me, Neanderthal,” I whispered, praying he released me before he heard the rapid tempo of my heart, which beat for him and him alone.
“What’s the matter, little girl? Afraid to let that pretty pussy get eaten by the big bad wolf?” he uttered hoarsely.
“Let me go, Braydon,” I demanded through the tightness of my lips.
He released me, and I turned away as he rolled to the edge of the bed gracefully, standing up. I gripped the thin material of the sheet tightly, staring at his naked form. I struggled to calm my body’s reaction to his, and the memories of what that body made me feel. I needed to keep my focus sharp if I had any chance of getting Hope out of this mess alive.
“You need to release Hope Halverson, Braydon. You have me; she has no part in this.” I swallowed as he turned around, uncaring that his heavy cock hung freely from the dark blonde curls that cradled it. I averted my stare, taking in the ancient runes carved into the wall of his bedroom.
“No,” he said coldly. “Not until I remove the mark you placed on my soul, and then you both will be free to leave here.”
“What?” I asked, swinging my gaze to his. “I didn’t mark you, Braydon. You’re my soulmate. That wasn’t something I asked for or had any more control over than you did. If it could have been removed, I would have.”
“Not by your people it can’t,” he snorted as he slipped on gray sweatpants while he continued to stare at me. “Do you think I didn’t plan your capture, witch? I’m not the naïve Viking who fell for your pretty green eyes anymore. You’re here so that this ends. Your mark on my soul will be removed, and you will leave here the moment I achieve that goal.”
“Are you mad already? There is no way to remove a mark from the soul! Don’t you think I considered that? I thought maybe if it wasn’t upon our souls, you wouldn’t love me, and the curse would never trigger. It was the first thing I tried, and everywhere I went, everyone I spoke to said the same fucking thing. We cannot remove it. It is a rare marking of souls that follows those who hold it through every lifetime they live.”
“You never came to New Orleans then, because there’s older magic than yours here. I will remove your mark, so I don’t want or crave you. Your magic forced this marking on me, not something else. You did this to me! I can’t fuck another woman without seeing your face and wishing it was you I savaged. I can’t love the mate I have chosen because of you!”
I recoiled as if he’d slapped me with his words. My stomach dropped to the floor before bouncing up into my throat. My heart hammered against my chest as hot tears pricked my eyes.
“You’re mated?” I whispered.
“I will be soon enough,” he said coldly. “Once you’re gone from my system.”
In all the time since I’d met Braydon, I’d never known him to take another lover after the mark had begun craving my soul. It was why I’d taken no one else intimately but him since the first time I’d laid with him, knowing no other man alive could come close to wha
t he made me feel. I tightened my hold on the sheet until my knuckles turned white.
“Where are my clothes?” I demanded crossly, scanning the room for them. A shirt hit the side of my face, and I followed it with my eyes as it fell to the floor. “I’m not wearing your clothes, Viking. Where are mine?”
“I don’t think you understand your position here, Laura,” he chuckled wickedly. “You’re my prisoner, and you will wear what I say you will wear. Your dress is in ruins, and we disabled the spells on your chains. I have them someplace safe, woman.”
“Those chains belonged to my mother,” I snapped.
“A mother who cursed her own daughter to a fate worse than hell,” he sneered. “You have two choices, you can wear my shirt, or you can wear my sheets. I don’t fucking care which one you choose. Do not leave this room, do you understand me, witch?” he asked.
“Or what?” I countered.
“Or I’ll spank your pretty ass until it aches,” he returned, dropping his eyes to the sheet I held to shield my nudity. “Who knows, you may even like it. You were always such a dirty little girl before, weren’t you, little one?”
“Try me, fucker, and you will wish you had never met me.”
“Too late, I already wish I’d never laid eyes on you, woman,” he snapped as he opened the door and slammed it in my face, leaving me numb.
Every time Braydon returned, he’d been gentle, loving, and much akin to the man they had sent me out to assassinate. I dropped the sheet and picked up the shirt, holding it up before I slipped it on and then sniffed it. Nordic winters clung to the shirt, and the promise of ice and snow mixed with the man who owned it filled my nose. I slipped it back off, folding it gently before I set it back on the bed and retrieved the sheet, wrapping it around me like the finest dress.
The room mirrored a different era, with no windows or light from outside. Candles sat upon the chest of drawers that lined the wall. I moved, retrieving the matches to light a single flame before I studied the walls. One door led out of the room, and he’d warned me not to open it, and yet my bladder was making my needs known. There was also the fact that I’d pecked at food yesterday and hardly eaten before the ball.
My fingers traced the runes before I made my way to the single chair that adorned the room and sat down in it, placing the candle onto the small table beside it. I rested my head against the back and considered my options.
I had to get outside of this room to see where Hope was being held. I needed to learn their defenses, and find out if they had men guarding her. Without magic, it would be tricky to get to her, but I would do whatever it took to free her of this place. I owed it to Avery to keep her daughter safe, and I’d failed miserably. And now she was being held by a man who was a ticking time bomb. One that would activate the moment I started to fall in love with him. He’d be unable to stop himself, cursed to become the berserker who savaged me until he ended my life. My life had been lived fully, but not Hope’s. She’d just barely experienced this world and what it could offer her. I wasn’t afraid of dying; dying was only a new chapter in a new world, and I was ready. Braydon deserved to be happy and live his life without paying for my sins.
Chapter 4
Hours had passed without Braydon returning. Hours that I’d waited, ignoring my body’s need until it was too much to ignore. I knocked on the door, waited for someone to answer, and when that didn’t happen, I twisted the knob, and the door opened into a larger room. I stepped through the doorway with the sheet wrapped firmly around me. Gradually, I moved out of the bedroom, but a deep growl stopped me in my tracks. I turned slowly, finding a large gray wolf baring its sharp teeth at me.
“Good doggie,” I said carefully. “I’m only looking for the bathroom.”
It snarled and started toward me, forcing me back into the room where I slammed the door closed. I leaned against it and groaned. This was torture. I was still holding onto the knob with my back against it when the door pushed open, sending me onto the floor with the sudden burst of speed in which he used to open it.
“I warned you,” he snapped.
“I have to pee!” I snapped back, lifting my sore body from the floor as he watched me through narrowed eyes. “You left me in here all day, and I haven’t peed since yesterday! I don’t know how wolves do it, but I didn’t think you wanted me pissing around your room!”
He folded his arms over his chest and glared at me as if I was lying. My knees crossed as I groaned. Braydon snorted before turning to show me the way. I followed him, ignoring the huge wolf that watched my every move. He opened a door and stepped aside as I rushed into the room, slamming the door in his face before I ran for the toilet. I groaned in bliss as I emptied my overly full bladder. Once I’d finished, I turned to stare out the window before flushing. Swamp filled every inch of visible land outside the bathroom. Were we away from the others? Didn’t wolves stick together and live in one large house? I turned back to stare at the door, fixing the sheet over my body when Braydon opened the door, leaning against the wall as his eyes slid down the length of me.
“Get out,” I growled, adjusting the sheet once more before turning to flush the toilet.
“It’s my bathroom,” he stated.
“Well then, let me go, and I’ll gladly use my own,” I offered angrily.
“Soon,” he returned.
“I’m hungry,” I said, changing the subject.
“Not my problem.” His eyes danced with mirth as he watched me struggling with the sheet.
I shook my head before I marched out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. I moved to the chair, preferring it to the bed which smelled of him. I brought my legs up and wrapped my arms around them, ignoring my stomach, which waited until he stormed into the room before it let loose a loud complaint from lack of food.
“Pouting?” he asked.
“No, I’m praying for death. Something you seem incapable of delivering, pussy!” I hissed.
Braydon picked me up from the chair and tossed me onto the bed. He grabbed the sheet, taking it from me as my body rolled out. I turned to attack, only for him to slam me against the mattress and grab a fistful of my hair as his teeth skimmed my shoulder, and his hand landed hard against my ass. I yelped and bucked against him, trying to dislodge his hand from my hair, which he used to hold me down.
His hand repeatedly landed against me, burning the flesh of my ass as I screamed in outrage. My anger rose, and I reached for my magic to attack him, only to grasp emptiness. The sense of hopelessness washed through me. I was defenseless, and the one thing I’d always counted on to protect me wasn’t there anymore. Tears fell unchecked as he continued to assault my ass with his bare hand, and then it changed. He rubbed the aching flesh as I buried my head in the mattress, silently taking what he gave.
His lips pressed against the sore flesh of my shoulder where his teeth had drawn blood, and he released my hair. Braydon’s knees parted my legs, and I tensed as his finger slipped between them.
“Stop,” I whispered brokenly as he paused at my entrance.
“You don’t want me to stop.”
“But I do,” I returned, waiting for him to take what he wanted. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled away from me, rising from the bed to stare down at what he’d done to my ass. My cheeks burned with the embarrassment of it, but worse, the wetness that stood glistening between my now parted legs. I closed them, pulling the sheet over my body as I curled into a ball and stared at the wall.
I remained there until the door closed, showing his exit. Tears slipped free the moment it closed, and I lifted from the bed, moving back to the chair, wincing with every step I took. My ass was on fire, but it had hurt my pride more than anything else. I hadn’t been defenseless since I’d been a mere child in the late 1200s. It was a foreign feeling, but grasping for my magic and discovering a void within me where it had always been, it had driven home the helple
ssness of my position.
The door opened, and I turned, staring at a woman. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair braided down her back. Blue eyes surveyed me harshly before she entered the room, her ample breasts visible through the thin dress she wore. I didn’t blame her for her wardrobe, not when even in October, this place was hot as hell. Louisiana never got the message that winter was upon it, nor did it seem to care.
She set a platter of meat, cheese, and bread down on the small table before turning to study me.
“You are smaller than I thought you would be,” she mused. “You don’t look evil.” I studied her carefully, noting the intensity of her stare and the delicate bone structure of her face. She was a werewolf, and if I had to pick a rank, it was a beta more than an omega. “You could just free him of your curse. He doesn’t deserve this, no one does.”
“No, he doesn’t deserve it. If I could undo it, I’d have done it the moment my mother cursed him. He seems to forget the part where I am cursed too. Not that it is any of your concern,” I snapped irritably. Just who the hell did she think she was?
“I will mate with him. I don’t care that he sees you when we fuck. I will do anything and everything needed for me to protect my pack.”
My stare narrowed as I snorted. “Good, good for you,” I offered, mostly because I couldn’t find anything else to say.
“I could just kill you now,” she offered pointedly.
“You could, but the curse only ends when he takes my life. If anyone else intervenes, we are reborn to repeat it within days of our death. If I kill him, in fifty years, he will find me, and we will repeat this cycle,” I shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “It is a curse on our souls. You kill me, and he won’t forget me. It won’t free him, because he will then become the hunter. But by all means, put me out of my fucking misery.”
Wicked Hexes Page 3