His Dark Embrace

by Verika Sloane

  “I love you, Shain Trevyn.”

  And then the world went black.

  There were two vehicles, not one, parked in front of the house: Shain’s black Range Rover and a silver Mercedes next to it.

  When she entered the house, no more clues gave it away.

  “Shain?”

  Nya’s warning grumble made her hesitate at the bottom of the stairs, but Kimber didn’t heed it.

  She approached the bedroom slowly, seeing shadows of movement, afraid of what she would see, and rightfully so.

  She pushed the door, eyes widening.

  There was her mate, on their bed, sprawled on his back, asleep. Seemingly so out of it, he didn’t even stir at the call of his name.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  A woman sat up gracefully in her lace teddy, as if she wasn’t surprised to see Kimber standing in the doorway.

  A pain so deep gutted her. A fierce urge to bend over and vomit was only halted by the sheer massive shock at the scene before her.

  “You must be her,” the woman cooed, cocking her head as though to measure Kimber up to herself.

  A vampiress. The epitome of everything everyone would imagine a vampiress would look, sound, and move like. Sensual, with big, pretty eyes, glowing, flawless skin, and a perfect figure. Her musk perfume saturated Kimber’s nose and mouth.

  “Shain told me about you,” the woman continued, petting the fur blanket. “He’s never been so taken with another before. Well, except me.” She looked down at him lovingly, then raised her gaze back to Kimber’s. “You’re more beautiful than I thought you’d be. I can see why he’s so enamored.”

  Though Kimber wanted to jump across the bed and score her nails down the woman’s face, she kept her distance, since it was apparent that while Shain’s companion had known Kimber would arrive, she didn’t know she was a shifter.

  Was this really happening? “You must be—”

  “Amara. Yes. I’m back.”

  The woman Shain said was an ex-lover. The relationship he’d vehemently claimed was over.

  Amara was back, and Shain had wasted no time screwing her.

  Kimber’s knees wobbled, a tide of despair coming for her powerfully fast.

  Amara reached for the wine, her big, round rhinestone ring glinting in the candlelight. “What’s your name? He never shared that detail.”

  “K—Kim.” The “ber” of her name didn’t make it out.

  Amara snaked her other hand down Shain’s torso, over his cock, down his thigh. “You and I can share him,” she whispered, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “He and I have done it before, usually for just a night or two. But by the way he speaks of you, it’d obviously be a more long-term arrangement. Until the three of us are bored with each other.” She roved her gaze at the floor, as if she’d done that kind of thing a thousand times. No doubt Shain certainly had.

  Bile skidded up Kimber’s throat, her stomach rampaging at the thought of sharing Shain with anyone. Of him and Amara making love in their bed, their sanctuary. Obviously, if this vampiress knew Kimber was a shifter, she wouldn’t want to share anything but her horror and disgust.

  Oh, God, how could he do this?

  Her mate stirred, mumbling.

  “Shain?” Kimber called faintly, desperate for an explanation.

  He groaned softly. “Am… Amara?”

  That did it.

  Kimber turned her back to the scene, eyes wide, feeling them glow. Nya plunged to the forefront, demanding Kimber claim her mate back.

  Amara gave a raspy laugh. “Oh, my. Don’t tell me you’re jealous. Our kind is far beyond that kind of emotion. You must be young.”

  Willing her wolf back, tears dropped like stones from her eyes, her love turning to ash around her, in her mouth, making it hard to breathe. Though she knew in her bones Shain was her mate, it was clear she was not his.

  Was that how it worked when they were from different worlds?

  Regardless, he had to know how she would react seeing him with another.

  The last thing she wanted to do was listen to him explain anything to her, not with her wolf so wound up and demanding a shift. And not with Amara there, clueless to the fact she was trying to lure a wolf shifter into a threesome.

  “I have to go,” she managed to choke out before rushing out of the house. She dropped the burner phone to the concrete steps and yanked open the door to the BMW.

  Stefan had let her borrow his car, and it was terribly easy to speed. She drove in an autopilot-like trance, realizing at certain points—like when someone blared their horn at her for weaving in her lane—that she needed to concentrate.

  Nya cried and cried. Kimber couldn’t. Her eyes filled and the tears spilled, but she was too numb to actually sob.

  Her cell phone lit up the dark interior with a call. A quick glance showed it was Lucinda, but Kimber ignored it. The hands-free wasn’t hooked up and whatever it was could wait.

  Lucinda called again, then sent a text message:

  Where are you? Come back NOW.

  Kimber sighed and pulled over to reply that she was driving, and on her way.

  Every light in the townhouse was on when she returned. She parked on the street and hid the car remote in the hiding spot they’d chosen on the porch. Stefan wasn’t due to return from the expo in Tampa until after the weekend, when she and her sisters were already gone.

  Speaking of her sisters… Tory and Lia were shoving items in the U-Haul cargo trailer like the house had caught fire.

  Lucinda busted out of the front door. “Kimber. Jesus Christ, where did you go?”

  “I—”

  “Never mind, I don’t care. We’re leaving for Tavish. Tonight.”

  Kimber was stunned. “What? Why?”

  Behind Lucinda, Beth vacuumed the living room while Abigail scored a rag on the coffee table.

  What was going on?

  “We weren’t supposed to go until Saturday morning,” Kimber said, following Lucinda back inside.

  “Amos wants us home ASAP.”

  Her stomach dropped at that demand. “But we’ll be home in a few days.”

  “We gotta make this place spotless to get our deposit back. Do something useful so we can get on the road.”

  “Has something happened? Is everyone okay?”

  “Kimber!” Lucinda reared on her with big eyes. “Are you seriously this entitled? Do what you’re told and ask questions later.”

  “All I want to know is why, Lucinda.”

  Lucinda threw up her hands. “No idea! He didn’t give me details, princess. Something to do with another alpha contacting him. That’s all I know.”

  The woman pounded up the steps, muttering to herself.

  Had Jackson already told Amos about her and Shain?

  Heart pounding, she went to her room, pulled the duffel bag out from under the futon and checked it. The money was there. Of course it was. She just needed assurance her backup plan was still viable.

  Her blood helped Shain; she prayed his money would help her.

  It was time to go home.

  Her face crumbled, and she went limp, slumping to the floor as she covered her mouth to keep the sobs in. Flashes of the scene she’d fled from reminded her they would be the last she had of him. The betrayal and confusion would be the final emotions he’d evoked in her.

  Did she hate him for putting her through that, though?

  No, she didn’t. She couldn’t. His motive was unknown, but at that point, she didn’t care to know it. Was what he did that hard to understand? Yes. Worth asking him about? No. Strangely cruel and thoughtless? Yes.

  He could’ve waited until she was gone.

  He could’ve sent her a message and been honest.

  But he hadn’t.

  So strange he would end it that way…

  “Kimber!”

  Lucinda’s shrill call snapped her out of it. She got to her feet and took a deep, cleansing breath.

  It did end, as
it was supposed to.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Shain roused in a fog, mouth dry, head pounding as though all nine gods and goddesses were bludgeoning his skull with their feet.

  He groggily sat up, pressing the heel of his hand to his temple. His mind continued to swim with obsessive thoughts of one name, a force he couldn’t shut off.

  Amara, Amara, Amara.

  He groaned, feeling sick and disoriented.

  “I do not get the appeal of this place.”

  He snapped his head to see his ex-lover leaning by the window in a black teddy and a silk robe, smoking a cigarette, staring out into the night.

  Puzzled beyond reason, he roughly shook his head, as if that would clear the haze.

  Fuck.

  He lifted the sheet from his waist. He was naked. In bed. And Amara was there. Not…not…who was supposed to be there? Because it shouldn’t be her. He knew that much in his muddled memory.

  He knew the other woman’s name. Something was very, very wrong about this.

  One half of his mind viciously fought the other, as if he was supposed to think one way, but feeling another. What was the last thing he remembered? He struggled to recall.

  Coming here. Waiting for…But then Amara arrived…

  “Do you remember that decrepit hotel in Paris?” she mused. “The ceiling tiles falling around the bed? You fucked me so hard that night I was speaking in tongues.”

  No, he didn’t want to think of that, or any night with her.

  Shain squeezed his eyes shut against the throbbing in his head, trying again.

  He came here.

  Filled the fridge. Drank blood. Showered.

  Amara showed up.

  And then…and then what?

  Tired of waiting for his memory to catch up, he snatched his underwear. “What did you do to me?”

  She blew out smoke. “You’re welcome. Whatever spell she had you under had to be overpowered.”

  Spell? He yanked on his pants next. “I’ll ask again. What have you done?”

  Memories came back, one by one.

  He’d walked in, cleaned up, anticipating the night. Amara came. Uninvited. Told him she loved him. He lied and said she had a chance to win him back. She came toward him for an embrace, wrapped her arms around him.

  A sharp prick in his neck.

  Then blackness.

  With a snarl, he marched across the room toward her. “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  How did she do it? He glanced down. Her ring. He snatched her wrist. Rings didn’t usually have a needle point on the inside of them. “By the gods, you are vile.”

  Her mouth dropped open in shock. “How dare you. That woman had you under a spell, damn it. The priestess told me the only way to get you out of it was to cast a more powerful one.”

  For a second, he was too dizzy to comprehend her words. “I was never under a fucking spell.”

  “Yes, you were,” she implored. “That is the only explanation for your behavior!”

  His behavior? He backed up a few steps, needing air from the putrid cigarette smoke so he could think. “You poisoned me because you thought I was under an enchantment? That’s why your name is ringing in my brain over and over like a fucking broken record? An obsession poison. Is that it?”

  The guilt was written all over her face. “You were mine! You’ve been mine for ten years! No matter what we do when we’re not together, you always crave me. Want me. Can’t get enough of me. No matter how long we’re apart, the moment I want you, I can have you. I’m gone a few short months, and then, out of nowhere, you tell me, ‘It’s over, Amara’ and ‘Move on, Amara.’” She tossed down her cigarette, hands on her hips. “I’m the one you want to claim as your pürist. Remember? The only explanation for you to dismiss me and want to be with someone else is a spell!”

  Shain gritted his teeth, regretting that he asked her to be his pürist years ago when he didn’t know any better. And that was long, long ago when he was obsessed with getting everything he’d been denied, and wanted the most desirable, uncatchable vampiress.

  His motive hadn’t been out of love. Not true love.

  True love.

  Gods, what was her name? It was like his tongue had been tied from saying it.

  He swiped down to grab his shirt. “You used me for your amusement. And I let you because I knew nothing else. Nothing better. Nothing purer. I’ll admit I thought we were good together, but avowing would’ve been a mistake. The gods would’ve denied us, and they would’ve been right. You think you love me, but you only love yourself.”

  Amara’s jaw slacked. “This is insane. It didn’t work. You’re still…”

  “Still what?”

  She balled her hands into fists. “Obsessed with her!”

  With who? With who? his mind screamed. He began tossing the sheets and blankets, looking for his shoes so he could get the hell out. “You just couldn’t accept we were over. That we’ve been over, even before I met her.”

  “Well, if you think she’s coming, she isn’t. She was already here.”

  He found his socks, then his shoes, sat on a chair and shoved them on. “Who was?”

  Amara waited a moment before she replied. “Kim.”

  A tidal wave smacked the back of Shain’s head.

  He howled, leaning over, rubbing the base of his skull. The utterance of her name weakened whatever power the poison had.

  Kim. No, not Kim. Kimber. Yes, that was it. Kimber.

  Oh gods, her name was like a balm to his burn.

  Wait. She was here?

  Teeth down, blood raging, he bolted up, the force pushing the chair back against the wall. “What happened?”

  For a moment, Amara appeared frightened, but a self-satisfied smile moved her mouth, and she crossed her skinny arms. To think he ever found her sexy baffled him.

  “Nothing happened. In fact, she barely said a word. She came in, saw you and me, then she left. Ran is more like it.”

  “Saw you and me what? I wasn’t conscious.”

  “In bed together.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I was quite polite. I even invited her in, but she left, as I expected.”

  Despair swept over him in waves, picturing Kimber seeing him nude, lying next to another woman, and what she must’ve thought. And felt.

  Nausea waved through his body.

  He turned away from Amara, a hand to his mouth, wiping off the sweat from his upper lip. Dear gods. How could he know Amara was that manipulative? She could’ve very well destroyed the best thing to ever happen to him.

  “Shain—”

  “I will never forgive you for this.” He snapped his resentful gaze to her, and she froze. “Stay the hell away from me. Don’t call, don’t text, never come to my door.”

  On the way out, he despaired when he saw there’d be no way to call Kimber; her burner phone lay in pieces on the front steps.

  He rushed to his Rover, finding his cell phone on the seat. He had to find her. Talk to her. Tell her the truth.

  Surely, she’d believe him. She had to. He’d go crazy if she didn’t.

  Panic bloomed at a rapid pace. He hit the gas and peeled away to the highway, swerving onto the on-ramp and barely missing a truck, which honked at his careless driving. He pressed the Bluetooth and called his assistant.

  “Sir, you have many messages—”

  “Later. I need you to drive by a house and check to see if anyone is home. I’m texting you the address right now.”

  “Er. Yes, sir.”

  He forwarded it from the maps app. “Did you get it?”

  “Address received. Anything else?”

  He hesitated, but desperation forced him to give Brooks another task. “Yes. Ask for Kimber. If she’s there, tell her to meet me at the park, that I’m on my way.”

  “Is everything all right, sir?”

  Trying to keep his cool, he choked the steering wheel. Everything was the opposite of all right. “I need y
ou to do this for me right now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Call me back after you’re done.”

  “Of course.”

  Brooks wouldn’t know the women were shifters unless they wanted him to know—and they were just as cautious as vampires about revealing their nature—but they’d be very aware he was human, and therefore dismiss him as any threat.

  Shain released a breath. It was ungodly late for a visitor, but he didn’t care what the shiyas thought at that point, or the questions they’d ask Kimber. She could handle them and they’d sort it out. Or so he told himself.

  Thirty agonizing minutes later, his assistant called back. “I went to the house.”

  His heart hammered with the suspense. “And?”

  “I believe it’s vacant. No one is there, and the furniture is covered. Curtains weren’t drawn, so I peeked. All is still. No cars in the driveway.”

  Shain, heedless of his speed, yelled, “Are you sure they left for good and aren’t just out for the night?”

  “Quite sure. There’s a padlock on the front door.”

  Breath left Shain’s body. They left already? All of them? Kimber, too? They weren’t supposed to leave for another two days.

  “Sir? Can I do anything else?”

  Shain squeezed his eyes and buried a roar of anger. “That’ll do for now.”

  He hung up.

  Shortly thereafter, he crossed the city limits. Should he go by the townhouse and see for himself? Not that his assistant could’ve been mistaken. The padlock on the door said all there was to say. They were gone, Kimber with them.

  He pulled into his building’s underground garage.

  He screeched to a stop, parked, slammed the door, and headed to the main lobby since the private elevator was under repair.

  Briskly walking to the elevators, he didn’t notice someone was waiting for him until they spoke.

  “Shain.”

  He halted.

  Aleck?

  A turn of his head gave him the confirmation. His brother smoothly rose from his seat and came toward him, dressed sharp in a long, light gray coat, black shirt and pants. It wasn’t until Aleck was a few feet in front of him that he slowly perused Shain as if memorizing every detail of his current state, before he met his brother’s gaze.