Chapter Fourteen
Wilder
Yikes.
I looked at myself in the mirror cataloguing all the marks Byron left on my skin.
There were bruises, bite marks and scratches everywhere.
I turned to look at my back and winced. There was a particularly nasty looking imprint of teeth on my ass cheek, and a shiver ran down my spine as I remembered how I got it.
Why did I choose to stay in those cuffs? Am I tied to the psycho now?
Jesus, how hard did he grip me? Most of the bruises were shaped like Byron’s hands.
I’m an idiot. A stupid, fucking idiot. What the hell have I done?
I stared at my face again, hoping to see some sign of regret or fear or at least something that told me what I’d done with Byron was a mistake. But there was nothing.
Every time I looked at a bruise or mark, I saw the moment I’d gotten it.
The way Byron had taken what he wanted. The way he’d used me.
I remembered the ragged breaths, the warmth, the desire and the way he looked at me when he was caught in the depths of chasing his own needs. I’d felt wanted. Hell, I’d felt seen.
There was a soft knock at my bathroom door.
“Are you alright in there?” Byron asked from the other side. “You’ve been in there a while.”
We’d come to my place early this morning because it was warded better than the Morozov Mansion. I also didn’t want to spoil anyone else’s Christmas if calling the Memory Wraith went horribly wrong. Which was a high possibility.
At least I wasn’t on my own.
That was…nice.
Urgh, there was that fucking word again. Nice. I needed to work on expanding my vocabulary.
“Wilder, I will break down the door if you don’t answer me.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine. Just resigning myself to the fact I’ll have to wear turtlenecks for the rest of my life.”
“But then no one will see what I’ve done to you,” he said, sounding petulant and pouty.
“Just wait for me downstairs, Byron. I’ll be there in a minute.”
I heard his footsteps retreating out of my bedroom and down the stairs. There was a definite stomp to them as he walked away which had me smiling fondly.
With a resolute sigh I turned away from my reflection and threw some clothes on. I decided against the turtleneck, opting for a black slim fit V-neck jumper and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans instead.
When I got downstairs Byron was casually sprawled out on my sofa texting someone on his phone. He didn’t look happy. Well, he never really looked happy. I suppose he looked displeased. His mouth was pinched and his brows were drawn down sharply.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes,” he grumbled. “Damyr wants me to hunt down a known associate of the guys from the drug den.”
“I thought you liked hunting people,” I said as I dropped into the spot next to him.
“I do, but I want to be here with you. You’re more important.” He put his phone back into his jacket pocket and finally looked at me, his eyes cataloguing all the marks he could see on my skin. “Fuck. You look good.”
My cock thickened at the predatory way Byron was staring at me. He swiped a finger along the dark purple bruise on my neck, and I shivered at the bite of pain that bloomed beneath his touch.
“I look ridiculous.”
Byron’s eyebrows dropped into a harsh scowl. “No, you look defiled.”
Jesus.
Byron’s bright blue eyes darkened as he leant closer and a soft purr came from somewhere deep in his chest.
“So,” I coughed. “The Memory Wraith?”
He smirked at my changing of the subject and pulled back. “Are you really sure you want to do this?”
“Yes. I have to know, Byron.” It was like I was missing a part of me. A part of me that I couldn’t even begin to heal until I understood what it was.
Byron slid a finger along the apple of my cheek and looked deep into my eyes. He stared at for me for the longest moment before giving me a small nod. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
I swallowed and my Adam’s apple stuck in my throat. My palms turned sweaty and a cold shiver wrapped around my spine.
Byron went to stand up, but I grabbed his hand.
“What if… what if he can’t find the memories? Or what if they change who I am—”
Byron cupped my jaw fiercely. “Then we will figure it out together. If you haven’t figured it out yet, Wilder. I am all in. You aren’t on your own.”
“Okay,” I said with a shaky nod. Although I wasn’t sure I believed him. Or something inside me was stopping me from believing him. I’d spent so much time doing everything on my own, that having someone want to be in the thick of it with me was… fuck. I wasn’t going to say ‘nice’ again.
Having Byron with me was…pleasant? Fuck me. I’d just called a psychopath ‘pleasant’. But in all seriousness, the fact that he was here with me made me feel a little less alone.
I picked up the slim little black business card off my shelf and looked at it again. A deep sense of foreboding uncurled in my gut as I stared at the sharp silver letters. Was I doing the right thing?
No time like the present to find out.
I clenched the card in my hand, the edges pressing into my palm, and thought his name with intent. I poured all my yearning into the call and hoped it was enough.
I could feel Byron staring at me from across the room, but he didn’t interfere.
I liked that he trusted me enough to just leave me to it.
Dara would have been interrupting and asking questions instead of just giving me the space to actually do it.
I loved my sister, but she was an interfering bitch sometimes.
Defeat and despair started to slither under my skin the longer I started at those perfectly formed silver letters.
He wasn’t coming.
I wasn’t worthy enough.
Couldn’t say I was surprised.
Maybe this was for the best. Did I really want to know what my father did to me?
I sighed and chucked the business card back onto my bookshelf. It was a stupid idea, anyway.
“Wilder?” Byron said. “What’s that?”
He pointed behind me and I could feel a soft breeze ruffle the ends of my hair. When I turned around, there was a small swirling vortex, a black hole the size of a football, which was growing bigger by the second.
I took a step back as the wind intensified. Byron wrapped his arm around my waist and jerked me towards him, holding me tightly against his chest.
The vortex grew and pale blue lightning flickered and sparked around the edges.
A silhouette started to appear in the centre in the vague shape of a cloaked figure, but I couldn’t quite see it.
I had to shield my eyes as the wind grew wilder to the point where it felt like there was a tornado in my living room.
And then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.
The silence after the howling of the wind was eerie.
“Whew,” someone screamed. “What a rush!”
I looked up at the space where the vortex had been and found myself looking at a man pulling down the hood of his cloak. He was dressed like a reaper except his cloak shimmered purple and silver instead of the traditional black.
He threw the hood back on his cloak and I got my first real look at a Memory Wraith.
Luminous purple hair stood up in all directions on top of his head, and he was about seven foot tall.
His face was pale and angular with runes painted in a line beneath his eyes.
I wasn’t sure what language it was, but I could sense how ancient this man’s power was. And his eyes…
They were two completely pitch-black orbs.
It was like looking deep into the maw of a void.
“Hey, my man. It’s great to meet you. Sorry about leaving you hanging there for a minute. It’s Christmas and my girl was tearing a strip off me about working.” The Wraith held his hand out and I could see all the same types of runes marking the length of his fingers.
I took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Hi.”
“Quite the grip you’ve got there, Wilder,” he said as he made his way to the sofa. “Mind if I sit?”
“No, go ahead,” I replied in a bit of a daze. This guy was not who I was expecting. Then again, I’d never met a Memory Wraith before so it wasn’t like I could compare him to anyone. Was there more than one Memory Wraith?
“So, Wilder. You want your memories back?”
“Er, yeah. How did you—”
“Seriously, dude. Were you about to ask me how I knew you wanted your memories back?” he asked with a mischievous grin.
“No,” I replied quickly.
The Wraith’s brow quirked into an arch as he stared back at me. “Sure you weren’t. Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but can we make this quick? I’ve left my girl a little tied up, and she’s going to be pissed at me if I leave her hanging. The name’s Terence by the way.”
I blinked at him. The words were tumbling out of his mouth, and it took my brain a minute to digest everything he’d just said.
Byron’s arm tightened around my waist. “Be careful.”
Terence’s smile turned a little unfriendly.
“Wise words, killer. Now, Wilder. Yes, you can have your memories back but first, I should warn you, they were taken for a good reason and having them back is going to be traumatic for you and second, the price for them is high. Like so high that you’re probably going to hate me for it.
So, with all that in mind, do you want to go ahead? ”
I swallowed, my nerves making my throat feel like sandpaper. “What’s the price?”
Terence snapped his fingers and shot me with a finger gun. “I know what you are and I want a favour.”
Okay, that didn’t sound too bad.
The Wraith’s eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth tugged upwards with mischief. “Now, before you go thinking ‘hey, that’s not too bad’, I’m going to make you commit to this favour without knowing what it is.”
Byron let go of my waist and came to stand in front of me, his face full of hard lines. “This might be dangerous, Wilder. I’m not going to tell you not to do it, because it’s not my decision. But what I will say is, make sure you can live with the consequence if you choose to agree.”
“They are some wise words, brother,” Terence said brightly as he got to his feet. “You’re not just a pretty face.”