Chapter 42 Seth
Seth
WE’RE LIKE THE ULTIMATE CHAIN GANG.
Citizen Soldier Playlist
“Made By Misery”
“This is the only time I will not be mad at you for waking me up in the middle of the night, psycho,” Rory mutters from the front seat of the truck. He’s suppressing his accent more than usual. It’s his way of shaking up a soda can before you open it and let it explode.
Hell, we might even get some Gaelic out of him when we catch up to Briella.
Raphael goes at a decent pace, the high beams turned on, so he can follow the horse tracks.
Normally, Jude rides up front with Raphael, but he and Vincent are sitting next to each other with me opposite in the truck bed. Something happened between them. I can tell, and it’s enough for me to smile.
“Wipe that silly grin off your face, Timber boy,” Vincent grunts, but the tension in his muscles is relaxed.
Jude smirks next to him. I flick my eyes to his and wink. Under his waterproof jacket, Vincent’s still wearing the same hoodie with Briella’s knitting prank all over it.
“I didn’t say anything. Just my usual charming, chipper self,” I say while setting a hand on my newly restored axe. I had to fix every last one and even make a few new ones after Briella.
My chest tightens. She was doing so well. I really thought she’d settled in. Especially after the skunk. Part of me wishes Raphael had let us share more with her.
But over the past couple of weeks, she’s asked no questions.
Not for any of us, even though I knew she was dying for more of our histories.
Most of her day was spent in the greenhouse with me teaching her a few “fix it” tips in between her and Jude planting.
Or she was with Vincent, helping with the animals.
She even watched Rory skin a deer once—and learned how we never let anything go to waste.
Hide is tanned for leather, like belts or gloves.
I even use some for my axe hilts. Dried tendons for bowstrings or lashing tools.
Bones made into helpful tools like awls, needles, fish hooks, etc.
We use the fat for waterproofing gear, making candles, soap, or salves.
A sharp breeze kicks up, and I zip up my coat. Thunder rolls in the distance, the clouds spreading a thick blanket over us. Should start raining soon.
“Why do you think she ran?” I wonder.
“Because she’s a bratty little Lass who thinks she’s too good for us,” Rory hurls back through the open window.
The truck careens to a sudden halt.
Raphael’s gloved hand crushes the steering wheel. He turns to Rory. Oh, fuck. Even from here, I recognize that dangerous look in his eye. His other hand twitches, as if it could snap Rory’s neck without turning around.
None of us speaks. The tension in the air is thick as a storm.
“The fuck, Raph?” Rory snaps his head up.
Slowly, Raphael turns, his gaze pinning Rory in place like a butcher’s hook. Not loud or flaring. Just absolute. And then…
Fuck, it happens so fast. Our alpha has his hand around Rory’s throat, seizing, gripping, borderline strangling. Rory’s red cheeks pale, but he only puts up a weak struggle. We all do. Because when Raphael gets physical? Yeah, we don’t fuck with the devil’s evil twin.
“You will never disrespect our Queen again, Rory,” Raphael warns, his eyes lethal as blades in the fire.
“She didn’t run because she thinks she’s better.
She ran because she knows she’s worse. She’s one of us—she belongs with the freaks, the monsters, the damned gods of hell.
” He pauses, reinforcing that we all should be listening. He knows we are.
“Briella met death in that dungeon like an old lover. She let in the pain because she knows becoming nothing is the worst fate. She’s been nothing before.
She’ll burn herself down a thousand times to become something untouchable to all but her Kin.
Even if it means we hunt her and hurt her to drag her back to hell, where she belongs. She’ll rise from the ashes tonight.”
He releases my partner, giving him a warning shove. For the first time, Rory is speechless. But he slowly lowers his chin in submission.
“So next time you open your filthy mouth,” Raphael finalizes, “remember whose name you’re dragging through the dirt. Her name is our name.”
Raphael unbuckles his belt, hand dropping fast. “Now, Kinship law says we wash that mouth out, proper.”
And then his hand’s in Rory’s hair, dragging him down.
We’re silent as Raphael disciplines Rory until he finds his release, washing Rory’s mouth out with his cum.
Our alpha never ceases to amaze me. The man who saved all our lives more than once. He saved us from our chains and gave us new ones.
We’re like the ultimate chain gang. Except, he forged the chains. And together, we bound them.
It’s not long until Raphael stops the truck, throws it in park, and kills the engine. The sudden hush of the woods presses in, heavy and expectant. He climbs out, and we follow.
“The hoof prints stop here,” he says, crouching down by the gravel road, running his gloved fingers over the indentations.
The high beams catch movement up ahead—Bruno, wide-eyed and skittish, his sides heaving.
Vincent’s out before anyone else can move, murmuring to the horse, settling him with steady hands and a voice too soft for a man built like a mountain.
He strokes the animal’s muzzle, checks him over, then gives him a solid pat on the flank, sending him trotting back down the road toward home.
Then Raphael straightens, his gaze fixed on where the gravel turns into dense, clawing brush—the trees so tight, no horse could push through without breaking a leg.
“She went in on foot.”
Creepy hunter can see the faint signs none of us can.
Thunder cracks above our heads. A light rain starts to fall, with the wind shaking the trees all around us.
“Ahh, fuck,” Rory curses, his voice rasping a little. “I take it back. I am so mad you woke me up.”
Ignoring him, Raphael reaches into the truck bed, pulling his compound bow over one shoulder, the sleek, black quiver filled with barbed-tipped arrows slung over the other.
My stomach knots with dread. “What are you doing, Raph?” I ask, keeping my voice even and calm, unchallenging.
Shit, I know that look in his eyes. I know what comes next.
His eyes pierce as he hardens his jaw and says, “I’m getting my hat back.”
Raphael always gives one warning.
And if she keeps running…he won’t kill her. Never.
But his arrows never miss.
THE END - OF BOOK ONE - QUEEN OF THE DAMNED
QUEEN OF THE DAMNED - BOOK TWO - Coming March