Summoned

Chapter 22 Nicole #2

Gaetano’s deep laugh fills the maze. “I created a story for you, Nicole. One where you play the lead.”

Unease tightens my chest. I hate fairy tales. They remind me of those Disney cartoons, where princesses dream of love. Of a prince to rescue them. My father made sure I knew early: that dream doesn’t exist. Yet, somehow, I guess Gaetano’s fairytale won’t be about love.

“I’m the storyteller but you’re the story,” Gaetano says. “When we meet, it will signal the end of the story.”

“So the goal isn’t to get out…It’s finding you?” I call into the air.

“Quick as ever, aren’t you, Nicole?”

I whirl toward the sound. “This is my second trial?”

“Trials test will and intellect. This is punishment for trying to kill me. And entertainment. For me.”

“That’s not fair!”

“You’ll be happy it wasn’t a real trial when you fail.”

His last words come too close. I catch the scent I know too well—his scent. I try to pinpoint the direction, breathe it in, hold it. The moment I inhale deeper, it’s gone.

“Are you ready, Baroness?”

This time, the question comes from behind me. Fine. I’ll have to follow him if I want out of this.

“Little Red set out into the woods seeking the thing every little girl dreams of. Do you know what that is?” His voice drifts in from the far end of the next corridor.

“Her grandmother?” I guess.

“What does every fairy tale girl really want, Nicole?”

Disney again. Of course. I scoff. “Love?”

“Is that disdain I hear, Baroness?”

I catch a trace of his scent again, but the words seem distant. “Fairy tales teach us that a woman’s only purpose is to find love.”

“You sound like you don’t agree. Tell me, then, what is her purpose?” Gaetano asks, somewhere to my right. I swear there’s a smirk in his voice.

“To become independent. To leave a mark.” Maybe that conversation with my father is still burning at the back of my mind, lighting a proverbial fire to prove my point.

Silence falls. I look around, unsure of which pathway to take.

“You don’t dream of finding a great love, Baroness?” His voice is so close, it brushes my skin. I shiver.

Fixing my attention on the flickering leaves of the closest hedge, I imagine he’s standing behind it. “Strange question, coming from someone who swears he’s never been in love.”

His laughter echoes through the maze. “Fair enough.”

I take a few hesitant steps forward. I can’t see Gaetano’s features, but I picture them in my mind, along with the fathomless black shade of his eyes.

“How can you have lived this long and never fallen in love?” I ask.

“Aha… so you do believe love is out there somewhere, waiting to be found?”

His words stop me in my tracks. I open my mouth to deny it, but he cuts me off. “Good thing that in our fairy tale, no one’s chasing love. We all want power and control, don’t we?”

“I suppose you’re right,” I mutter, shrugging.

He chuckles. “Little Red Riding Hood threw on her confidence cloak, picked up her basket full of big expectations, and set off down the road to fortune…”

I walk toward his voice.

“She didn’t carry much weight, but she had sturdy shoes gifted by her father…With them, she crushed the tall grass beneath her feet and charged ahead, never realizing she would have tripped at the very first step without them…”

The last words drift past me, then echo several meters ahead. It takes me a few steps to process what he said. Is he mocking me? I grit my teeth and keep chasing his voice.

“Little Red wandered into the woods. This forest wasn’t full of flowers and birdsong. It was dark, damp. Imagine lips waiting to be parted.”

The words whisper into my ear, and I shiver at the uninvited images flashing in my mind. His scent swirls around me like mist. He’s close. I’m sure of it. Maybe even right beside me.

“Found you!” I call out, bluffing.

“Not even close, Little Baroness…”

Now the voice drifts from another corridor, so I change direction.

“The Wolf watched her from the shadows and wondered…”

As I follow the sound, I imagine him watching me, shrouded in the darkness. A strange thrill runs down my spine.

I catch his scent again. Close. Too close.

“What would she taste like?” His words come from behind me. Damn it. I could chase him forever at this rate, and not find him until he wants to be found. “When they met, her first instinct was to stomp him with her precious shoes. She was quick to realize though… they were useless against him.”

I plunge onto yet another path, desperate to catch up to him.

“He tied her to a tree and began to taste her slowly. From the tips of her sharp shoes to the soft skin on the inside of her thighs. She was so delicate, so fragrant, that the Wolf decided to take care of her…”

I pause in my tracks, a scene unfolding in my mind. Me, ropes binding me to a tree, Gaetano tracing my thighs with his lips. Blinking away the distraction, I refocus.

I can smell him.

“The Wolf wanted to feed her. He gave her meat to eat and wine to drink. What Little Red didn’t realize was that the food contained her own parents’ flesh, and the wine, their blood. She devoured it with greed. Even licked her fingers…”

I frown at the last image.

“Instead of thanking him for satisfying her hunger, she panicked. Afraid he’d reach the treasure before her. So when he least expected it, she pulled a small knife from her basket and stabbed him.”

My steps slow down as the words register.

“What Little Red didn’t know,” his voice comes again, this time close too close, “was that the Wolf couldn’t be killed. He healed from the wound… and chose revenge.”

Something shifts the air near the bend in the hedge. A low, vibrating growl echoes down the corridor. Then come the sounds—claws scratching against dirt, a heavy paw landing, the quick rhythm of breath.

Paws, closing in.

“Run, Baroness…”

Everything inside me stiffens. He can’t be serious.

A wolf—the wolf, from the story—appears in the distance. He’s dark gray, swift, and enormous.

I bolt in the opposite direction. My breath rips from me in ragged gasps. The ground beneath my feet is slick and dangerous. The hedges on each side shimmer.

It’s an illusion. He wouldn’t hurt me. If I die, the contract is broken. Gaetano will be affected, too. The wolf… He’s not real. All I have to do is stop. Close my eyes. Wait it out.

The growl vibrates against my back, and every instinct in me is already screaming, Run! Panic ignites in my chest.

The creature behind me scratches. I swerve hard, my foot buckling beneath me, but I don’t stop. I run through the labyrinth, taking every sharp corner I can to my advantage. They slow me down, but they also slow him down. It’s enough.

And then the scent ghosts past me, causing my body to pause for a brief moment. Gaetano is nearby.

“Don’t let him catch you…” The voice is just around the corner.

I push forward, but the path splits. I dart right and—

My heart stutters. Dead end. The wolf’s scraping grows louder; he’s meters away. I press myself into the wall, clenching my teeth. The sounds approach… then fade. As if… he passed me.

I hold my breath. He took the other turn. It gives me seconds, no more. I launch myself back down the corridor I came through. I need to get out of here. I have to—

A guttural snarl tears through the hedge behind me, followed by thunderous steps. He realized his mistake.

My throat is dry, my lungs burn, but I don’t slow down. And then again—

The scent. Stronger than before. Now I’m sure it’s coming from the hedge. I skid to a halt in front of it, heart pounding, and scan both walls. Black leaves. Gnarled branches. Vicious thorns.

On one side, I spot… a patch of darkness, deeper than the rest.

The wolf roars, close enough to taste me. My muscles tense. The beast gathers itself, preparing to leap. Without thinking, I raise my arms to shield myself from the thorns, close my eyes, and throw myself into the hedge.

The next instant, I land on something soft.

Flesh?

My eyes snap open. Gaetano’s face is inches from mine, his body underneath me, lying flat on the ground. I’m straddling him, my torso pressed to his. The heat against my waist tells me I’ve lost the red hood and am back in my sports bra. And his arms are wrapped around me.

My heart pounds between us, echoing through his chest and back into mine, growing stronger each time. A glance to the side confirms we’re in the forest near the trail. The sky is darkening, and we’re alone.

He allows me to lift myself off him slightly before his arms lock around me again. His glare pins me in place. “How did you do it?”

“What… do what?”

“How did you know where I was?”

I scowl. “I took a chance… And how the hell did we end up in this position?”

“You jumped on me and shattered the illusion. You were either going to hit the ground hard, or I had to soften the fall.”

I raise an eyebrow, full of contempt. “Oh, thanks. Now, would you mind letting go of me?”

“No.”

His fingers dig into my bare skin, and with a sharp motion, he flips me under him. My back hits the ground. He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head. Then his thighs press into mine, trapping me. “How did you figure out where I was?”

The question finally clicks. He doesn’t know that his presence—or his magic—has a scent? Could this be the advantage I’ve been seeking?

“I took a wild guess,” I say.

His grip tightens around my wrists. “I could force it out of you, Nicole.”

My breath comes in short bursts. The stones sting my back, but I’ll be damned if I answer him. “What are you going to do? Enchant me?”

“I don’t need to.”

He shifts, wedging his hips between my thighs, his hardness pushing against the thin fabric of my leggings. A wave of heat washes over me, a throbbing desire building between my legs.

His lips curl at the corners, as if he’s felt every one of my reactions. “Magic isn’t my only weapon. And you know that.”

I try to focus on his grip, on the fear that still lingers, on the danger I know hasn’t passed.

This is the witcher I stabbed two nights ago—the one who terrifies me.

And yet, when he shifts again and presses against my core, my pulse surges with fresh adrenaline, betraying every ounce of reason.

I jerk against his hold, struggling to break free.

In doing so, my chest lifts and presses against his.

The closeness floods me with that intoxicating scent of his once more.

“You’re torturing me with pleasure now, is that it?

” My voice is low, trying to hide what’s rising inside me.

He leans in closer, close enough for his hair to brush my face, and whispers in my ear, “How easily you admit the effect I have on you.”

My lips part when he rubs against me again. I scowl. “You can’t be serious…”

He grazes the edge of my ear with his lips, and every part of me jolts. “How did you figure out the exit from the illusion?” he asks in time with his next slow thrust against me.

“I guessed…”

He presses into me with growing intent, as if he’s slipping inside me through the fabric. The darkened rims of his irises send a chill down my spine.

For a breathless moment, I imagine there’s no barrier between us.

No clothes, no reason. Just him, bare and poised above me.

I bet those same runes are etched across his body.

I bet he’s as dangerous in bed as he is outside of it.

Heat builds in my stomach and spread through every fiber of my being.

His lips stay on my throat, teeth grazing my skin lightly.

Just when my body starts to curl with the tension, he stops. “Tell me how you found me.”

The heat in my core burns, aching, with nowhere to release. “I…I guessed…”

He grinds against me again, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

“Your body already obeys me,” he whispers into my ear. “Let the rest of you follow. Give me the answer I’m looking for.”

The weight of him on top of me feels far better than it should. The thought that he might do anything he wanted —and that I might let him—slips in, slow and dangerous. It clouds my mind and ignites my skin, pulling me back to the edge I was trying so hard to escape.

A shred of reason claws its way up from deep inside. If I give him the truth, I lose the only advantage I have.

“I’ll never obey you,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

He freezes again, then pushes onto one elbow above me. A chill washes over me, yet it’s not enough to smother the heat coiled inside me.

Gaetano’s gaze glides over my face with surprising gentleness, with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Lucky for you, nothing motivates me more than a defiant challenge.”

“I really do feel lucky…”

Though I stumble over the words, they have the desired effect. He hesitates. Is he going to keep going? A traitorous voice in my head urges him to.

Gaetano straightens up, grabs my hand, and pulls me to my feet.

I brush off the dirt and small stones clinging to my back and lift my head.

The moon reflects in his eyes, giving them a wild, feral gleam.

He gives me a wolfish smile, and in that moment, I know it deep in my bones, that he’s going to destroy me.

A flicker of anxiety sparks in my chest, blending with the arousal still tightening every nerve in my body.

“Until next time, Baroness,” Gaetano says, holding something to his chest in a mock gesture of farewell. As he fades into shadow, I catch a glimpse of my cap in his hands.

“Wait!” I shout into the empty air.

Goddamn it.