3. Huntyr
Chapter 3
Huntyr
“ Y our rooms are seriously this close to each other?” I asked, not bothering to keep the venom from my voice. Wolf led me down the hall with a hand hovering at my back, barely touching me. Still, it was enough to light up every one of my senses. If I had a single ounce of energy left, I would swat him away.
Lucky for him, I was exhausted.
“Yes, they are. Not like we had a choice in the matter, but it comes in handy when hungry ones get too close,” Jessiah answered from ahead.
We walked through the dark shadows. A small window, barely large enough to look out of, lit the hallway every few feet, but aside from that, nothing. You would have thought we were deep underground in a cave somewhere with the lack of, well, anything. No furniture, no carpeting on the floors. Just empty space.
It made me uneasy. Everything about this place did.
“This is my room,” Wolf said. “Jessiah stays across the hall. He’ll be there if you need him, but I’m sure you won’t.”
I rolled my eyes at the arrogance in his voice and pushed open the door to Wolf’s bedroom. It was smaller than I expected. Cozier, too. There was minimal furniture, with one bed pressed against the back wall and a singular wardrobe beside it.
“Not much for personal effects?” I asked.
“There are no personal effects around here,” he answered. “It’s best to keep things as simple as possible.”
A pile of fabric caught my attention in the corner of the room, and I realized quickly what I stared at—bloodied cloths and gauze from his severed wings. I blinked my attention away before he caught me staring.
Wolf brushed past me, toward a door on the far side of the room. “You can wash up in here,” he said. He opened his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black men’s trousers and a matching top. “Take these.”
“You expect me to wear your clothes?” I asked.
His eyes raked down my body, and I fought the urge to cover my arms over my chest. I looked like an absolute disaster, I knew that. I wore the same clothes for days now. Or was it weeks? My hair was one massive knot of sweat, dirt, blood, and tears. Mud from the dungeon caked my skin from the floor I’d slept on.
Still, I stared Wolf in the eye. It was his fault I looked like this, after all. He was the one who dragged me into this mess, who lied to me about why he was helping me and delivered me directly to his father.
I still wasn’t sure what he truly wanted from me, but I did know he was awfully interested in my power.
“It’s my clothes or nothing,” he said before smirking. “Both options are fine with me.”
I snarled and yanked the clothes from his grasp before storming into the bathroom and shutting the door.
Thankfully, this place had running water. It seemed to be nicer than the building Wolf and I stayed in that first night in The Golden City. I had no idea where we were directionally, but I guessed that Asmodeus and his crew lived in the center of it all.
I avoided looking in the mirror entirely and started the shower, letting the water grow hot as I peeled my disgusting clothes from my body. I took everything off—including my underwear and chestwrap—and threw everything in the garbage. I sure as hells never wanted to see those clothes again.
Wolf didn’t so much as knock on the bathroom door, but I could feel him out there. Since we bonded, I was much too aware of his presence at all times. It was a damn curse. I wanted nothing more than to forget all about him and everything he put me through.
My mind wandered to his wings—or the lack thereof.
Don’t even go there, I reminded myself. He deserved this punishment. He’s still working with his father to keep you a damn prisoner here.
I stepped into the hot water and moaned at the feel of it. There were times in that dungeon when I thought I would never see the light of day again, let alone take another shower.
I accepted my fate. If I really was the heir to the vampyre kingdom, the blood kingdom, death would come soon enough.
Wolf cracked the door open but didn’t come inside. “Doing okay in there?”
I picked up one of the few soap bars and threw it at the door.
Jessiah would have been a much, much better option. I was surprised at how similar he and Wolf looked, but they were brothers, after all. They both had lightning eyes and fierce brows to frame them, but Jessiah was softer than Wolf. His angel wings were white, certainly not fallen, and he carried himself less rigidly.
I tried not to think about everything Wolf went through in his life. If his brother was here this entire time living with Asmodeus, what did Wolf think? Or had Wolf done something to piss his father off so badly, he was now the one to take all the hits?
The water washed the dirt from my skin after a few minutes. I dunked my head beneath the stream and massaged my curls with the pine-scented soap that made it absolutely impossible not to think of Wolf.
This was great. Really fucking great.
I would have stayed in that shower for ages, but my legs began to shake once more as I stood there. The second I was clean, I braced myself against the wall and turned off the water.
I had never been so exhausted in my entire damn life. Even after days and days of training with Lord and killing vampyres in Midgrave, I hadn’t been this sore. I would have taken one of Lord’s whippings again over this bone-deep tiredness.
I dried myself off with a clean towel and pulled Wolf’s loose trousers over my bare legs. I tugged the tunic over me next, grateful it covered more of my body than any of my own clothes would.
I already felt way too exposed here. Drowning in these clothes would help.
By the time I slicked my curly black hair into a tight braid over my shoulder and pulled Wolf’s door open, he was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around the empty bedroom one more time, ensuring no one else lurked in the shadows, before walking to Wolf’s perfectly-made bed.
Black linens draped over the large wooden structure. I wasn’t surprised; everything about this place was dark, black, and shadowy. Still, as I ran my hand over a pillow, I felt my eyes growing heavy.
I tried to sleep in the dungeons. Trust me, I did. But there was no amount of exhaustion that would have let me fully relax there. I was too unprotected, too vulnerable.
Although, I supposed little had changed about my situation since then.
I was still exposed, still vulnerable to anyone who might enter that door, still unsafe.
The edge of the bed shifted around me as I sat, and I became immediately grateful for the support. I sank into the thick fabric like I belonged there, like I was drawn to this bed for more than just temporary support.
My body screamed in relief as I kicked my feet up next, reclining back onto the pillows.
This. This was fucking nice. I tried to keep my awareness on the door, tried to shut my eyes for one singular moment before Wolf came back, but the darkness of sleep called me home.
I n the span of four days, I saw Wolf once. Strangers brought me food every day, but other than that, I was left alone.
So much for showing me The Golden City.
I didn’t mind it, though. It gave me time to think, to plan my fucking escape. Because there was no way in all hells I was going to sit here, cooped up, waiting for Asmodeus to tire of me.
Wolf was no longer someone I could trust to help me. I had to make it out on my own.
Luckily, on the second day, the woman who delivered my food also brought me a few books. She didn’t say anything as she set them on the edge of the bed, but I gave her a reassuring nod anyway.
It was the best I could do.
I immediately dove in, looking for anything to fill the mindless hours of imagining the demise of The Golden City. They were older texts, the spines bound in leather and coated with dust. Clearly, the people living here weren’t big on reading.
I couldn’t say I was either. I learned to read as a child, but there weren’t many books that survived the war. Not in Midgrave, anyway.
The first book I picked up was about vampyres. Go fucking figure. I ran my fingers over the delicate cover, taking in the thick texture of the red words. Blood and War. The smell of old pages wafted up at me as I cracked the book open, skimming the first few pages. It seemed to be mostly boring history, but I quickly realized there was something else in this text. Along with the history of the species and some well-known facts, there were dozens and dozens of pages filled with half-scribbled notes and stories of lore.
And I hadn’t heard of a single one of the stories.
One of them in particular discussed an old tale about a powerful descendent who could stop the hungry ones from attacking others. This was someone who could change the world as we knew it, who could end wars and control others with an all-powerful bloodline.
It was interesting enough to distract me for a few hours, interesting enough to make me wonder how much of this was true…
I read, I slept, and I ate just enough to stop anyone from force-feeding me.
Eventually, I was going to make it out of here.
Eventually, I would make them all pay.
I jolted awake to the sound of a male screaming and snapped my attention to the foreign room around me.
Right. Wolf’s room. Wolf’s bed.
A blanket covered me now, one I was sure I hadn’t put on my own body, but the other side of the bed was still empty aside from the small stack of books I was in the middle of devouring.
The muffled scream rang out again, and I scrambled to the edge of the bed, peering at the floor, only to find Wolf sleeping—shirtless—on his stomach, exposing two massive, angry wounds that spanned his lower back to the top of his shoulder blades.
Goddess above.
“Wolf!” I called out in the night. He was flinching, glistening in sweat, fighting something in his sleep—something I couldn’t see, somewhere I couldn’t follow.
I shouldn’t have cared. I should have enjoyed the sound of his helpless whimpers, but when a scream threatened to crawl from his throat the third time, I jumped out of bed and knelt at his side.
“Wolf, wake up!” I said again as I gripped his bare arm—careful not to get any closer to his wounds—and shook him.
He opened his eyes instantly and scrambled to a kneeling position. His chest rose and fell rapidly, heavily, as if he had just been in combat. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead, beading down the sides of his face and dripping onto his chest.
His eyes scanned the entire room before falling on me. “It’s you,” he breathed between pants.
“It’s me,” I answered. “You were having a nightmare.”
Wolf tilted his head back and laughed. Loudly. “Yeah, that seems to be happening a lot these days. The problem is, my real life has become equally nightmarish.”
My stomach knotted. “Why were you asleep on the floor? How long was I out?”
“A day. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“So you slept on the floor of your own bedroom?”
He tore his eyes away and ran a hand through his damp locks. “No offense, Huntress, but the last thing I want to do is make you feel even more uncomfortable. I’m perfectly fine on the floor.”
Wolf didn’t wait for my reply. Instead, he pushed himself up and walked to the bathroom, turning on the sink without closing the door.
I stood and followed him, lingering at the door frame.
“Your scars look horrible,” I noted.
He splashed water on his face and hunched over the sink. His long, broad muscles flexed against the movement, the wound of his absent wings on full display.
“You really know how to make a man feel better. Thank you.” He splashed more water.
“I’m serious.” I stepped forward, reaching out but pulling my hand back before I touched him. “Not that I care, but I think it’s infected. Weren’t these supposed to heal by now? I figured your angel blood would have taken care of it.”
“I’m a fallen angel, remember?” His words held more anger than I heard in some time, but I knew it wasn’t anger toward me. “Though I’m not even sure I would call myself that anymore.”
The wounds on his back looked fresh, like they were inflicted just yesterday. They certainly did not look like the wounds of a healing magical creature.
“Do you have healers here?” I asked. “If you can’t heal yourself, maybe you should see one.”
He spun around to face me, quicker than I was prepared for. His brows were drawn together, and the light in his eyes sparkled with emotion. “Does my father strike you as the type of person to keep healers in his kingdom?” He smiled to himself. “He would love to know I was suffering even more than he originally intended.”
“He is that cruel?”
“Have you learned nothing?”
I froze, staring at him. Wolf had told me stories of his father, but now that I knew he was an archangel, everything changed.
Angels were supposed to be good—keepers of the goddesses, protectors of peace.
But this? How he treated his own son?
“Well, all I’m saying is that it looks bad. Why won’t your own magic heal it like it healed me at Moira?”
He shook his head like this was all humorous to him. “I don’t need anyone else knowing about that little gift of mine. If I heal my own wounds, they’ll start to ask questions.”
“You’d rather walk around in pain than tell them of your healing magic?” When he healed me, he ensured we were the only two who knew about it. But why would he be keeping his abilities a secret from his own father?
Okay, maybe I could understand why he didn’t want his father knowing. But there had to be more to it.
Wolf’s eyes searched mine. His face was fierce, no smirk, no smile, no flirty comeback. It was just Wolf, just the male I fought with in Moira, the male who saved my life, the male who?—
No. I stopped my thoughts before they could continue any further.
He betrayed me.
But just when I thought Wolf had finally dropped the arrogant asshole persona, he cocked his head to the side. “Caring about me, Huntress? I thought you hated me now.”
“I do hate you.”
He stepped closer, his bare chest almost touching me. “Good. I can live with hate, just as long as you feel something for me.” He reached out and pulled on a loose piece of hair from my braid. A thick sadness washed over his eyes, threatening our bond. It was hard to keep my shields up when he stood this close, when he touched me. “As long as you still feel something.”
My heart raced at the closeness of him. I wanted nothing more than to shove him away, to forget about all this and go back to sleep.
But I was wide awake now and so was he. As much as I wanted to forget everything between us, it was impossible.
“Loving you was the biggest mistake of my life,” I said carefully. “I hate you because you made me forget what was at stake. I hate you because, after everything, you betrayed my trust, the trust you practically forced out of me. So, yes, I do hate you. But rest assured, Wolf—the hate may fade as I slowly forget you, but I will never love you again.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened.
And then he smiled.
“Never say never, Huntress.” He turned around, grabbing a shirt from his wardrobe and throwing it on. “Take a walk with me. We both need some air, and I want to show you something.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. You’re more than welcome to stay in here and rot until my father decides he’s done entertaining you.”
Well, shit. I still hated his guts, but I shoved my feet into my shoes and stormed after him anyway.