Chapter 15
Morgan
“I don’t want you to leave,” I sigh.
Verena gives me a big hug as Sylvan carries her bags down to the taxi that’s waiting in front of the iron gate.
“I know,” she says. She pulls her red hair back into a slick ponytail and checks for her wallet and phone in her pockets. “I don’t want to leave either. But my clients need me and I have to get back home. I’ll come visit again soon. Maybe after the Blue Moon?”
I nod eagerly. “Please. You’re always welcome here.”
Verena ended up staying for two weeks, and having her around has been a much needed break from the pressure of the curse.
Sylvan and I basically put a pin in any research we’ve been doing, and the only thing I thought about is finding things for Verena and I to do.
She got to see firsthand just how small and quaint the town of Hex Ridge is, and also how much everyone dislikes me.
Their loss, she reminded me every time I got a dirty look.
Since her visit, I haven’t had a single moment alone with Sylvan.
I’ve missed him, weirdly enough. Plus, we haven’t discussed anything. No mentions about my heat, his rut, or some of the lingering questions I have about who Sylvan really is.
He hasn’t mentioned the heir thing or why he can shift different body parts when he chooses.
That’s not normal for a werewolf. In fact, nothing about Sylvan is really normal now that I think about it.
Even though losing his pack explains why he’s a lone wolf, I don’t know why that happened to begin with.
There’s no telling what he really thinks. I have no idea if he regrets what we did, if he hates the fact that we ended up knotting. Every night I’ve lain in bed thinking about those moments. The relief I felt, the tightening in my chest, and our stupid curse.
Then there’s the secret part of me that knows I’m going to miss my best friend, but I'm also glad to have the house back again with just the two of us. His grumpiness has become a source of comfort.
Verena puts her hands on my shoulders, giving me a gentle shake.
“Be strong,” she says. “Be careful. I know you've told me about this place and I know all of the things that have happened here, but I feel like there's something else.
I don't know what it is though. Maybe I'm just being a worrywart.”
I never told her about the darkness. I haven't seen anything else since that first full moon here, or the strange feeling I got from Cassandra's father.
Maybe I was just imagining the darkness in his eyes.
A trick of the light. Regardless, I've kept secrets from my best friend, and it feels a little bit shitty.
But I don't need her to worry about me, I have Sylvan here to protect me.
“I’ll be okay,” I promise. “If anything happens, I'll let you know.”
She nods and glances back at Sylvan. He's talking to the taxi driver, and if I didn't know any better, I could've sworn he was threatening him to drive well.
“Do you want me to pack up your apartment?” she asks. “I can ship you some things . . .”
My immediate thought is no. I don’t want to lose my apartment or officially move to Hex Ridge. But the fact is that I’m here for another few months, and there’s no point in paying rent on a place I’m not living in.
“If you don’t mind,” I say. “I’ll see about voiding my lease or renting it to someone else. There’s no rush, though. Just know you’re going to see all my sex toys.”
She laughs. “It’s fine. You know our agreement.”
It’s the best friend agreement. If one of us ever dies, the first thing we do is clean out the sex toy drawer so no one else in our life is traumatized. The last thing I would have ever wanted was old Maeve discovering I’m into bondage and submission.
Verena smirks. “I’ll ship them to you. Also, I have to say it, Morgan. I didn’t like him at first . . . But he cares about you deeply. The two of you are cute together.”
I’m horrified. “We aren’t together. The whole reason we're in this mess is because of my stupid grandmother. He’s nothing more than my bodyguard.”
Verena gives me the look. “Right,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, for being a bodyguard, he sure cares a lot. And it sounds like he’s pretty good in bed.”
I shake my head. She's not going to let me live down the fact that I admitted I’ve never had an orgasm like the ones I had with him. Or that I told her he might be my fated mate.
The thing is, I’ve never put much stock in the whole fated mate thing.
I’ve heard of them, of course. But it always felt like a fairytale.
Like the ones my mother used to tell me growing up about a princess becoming a powerful witch and banishing all the darkness.
I’ve met some couples who said they were fated mates, only for them to be so lovey-dovey it made me want to banish them from my presence.
Really, I just thought people were lying about this mystical connection.
Sylvan can’t be my fated mate. Not while we’re cursed. What if it’s not real? What if my grandmother’s dying wish tricked our hearts into wanting the other?
I have all these doubts in my head, and no way to soothe them. It's impossible to know what's real with him. He’s all but ignored me the last couple weeks, aside from the occasional grunt in agreement. Even with Verena around, he wouldn’t let me go anywhere without him.
He’s obnoxious and annoying and grumpy and rude and I hate how right it felt when we were together. The heat without him was the worst thing I’ve ever lived through, and that’s saying a lot considering my childhood here.
All I know is that for a few blissful hours, everything felt right.
But then we woke up. Reality set in.
And now I’m about to be trapped in this stupid sentient house with him again.
“Text me when you land,” I say.
She nods and kisses my cheek before going down the steps and to the front gate. The sun is already setting over the mountains, turning the tips of the spine a brilliant shade of fuchsia. Bands of purple clouds float around the top, changing colors as it dips lower.
Summer is here, and while I dread the noon heat, I like this time of the day. I like it when I can feel the plants relaxing beneath the cool breeze and the crickets chirping.
Verena gives me one more wave as Sylvan opens the car door for her. The moment she’s inside, he shuts it and crosses his arms again as the taxi turns in the cul-de-sac and bumbles down the street.
A chill writhes up my spine. I frown and glance around us. Trees mostly block the other neighbors from view, but I get the sense that I’m being watched. I scan the yard, the street, the other houses—but then my gaze lands on Sylvan.
He’s looking at me. My heart squeezes.
It’s just us now.
He quietly closes the gate behind him and comes up the porch steps, his expression unreadable and smooth like granite. But his eyes are dark and stormy and full of an emotion I can’t place. Maybe it’s hate. Maybe it’s something worse.
His gaze dips down to my mouth. I want to kiss him so badly. I’m standing as still as I can, holding my breath and wishing he’d lean down and do it. I want to taste him again. He’s been haunting my dreams with those damn lips.
Instead, I resort to trying to piss him off.
“How’s it feel not to be a virgin anymore?” I quip.
The corner of his mouth tugs, but his expression grows serious. “Fine.”
Fine? Are you fucking kidding me?
“We need to resume our research so we can try and break this curse.”
Oh. That hurts. I don’t know why it hurts, but it’s like a knife through the chest. A reminder of what this really is. Just a werewolf and a witch trapped in a curse together they both should want to break.
He rubs his chest absentmindedly. “We’ve been slacking off by entertaining your friend for two weeks. If I never hear her voice again, I’d be happy.”
I snort. “Whatever. You liked beating her at poker and talking about forests with her. If I have to hear about the growing cycles of birch or whatever again, I’m going to learn how to cast curses. Couple of tree huggers.”
Sylvan smirks. “Well, you got me there. Sorry I enjoy the forest so much. I suppose Verena was enjoyable to be around sometimes.”
I narrow my eyes on him, and god damn it. This ugly feeling raises its head again and it has no sensible place in my heart. But just the idea of him enjoying another person more than me is enough to make me jealous.
It’s so stupid. I know that, but I can’t reason the emotion away. It’s like a piece of gum stuck on the bottom of my shoe.
“Speaking of, we should go into the forest,” I say. “When the sun is out, obviously. But I think we should walk around and look for any signs of the darkness.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve looked.”
Another chill writhes down my spine. Goosebumps ripple over my skin and I frown, hugging myself. “You looked while you were in a rut. You haven’t since, that I know of.”
“Whatever it was, it’s probably covered its tracks.”
“I mean, I’m sure. But it doesn’t hurt to check.” Why was he being so fucking stubborn about this? “If you don’t want to go with me, that’s fine. I’ll just go myself.”
“It’s cute you think that’s even a possibility.”
I throw up my hands and open my mouth to argue. But then a loud popping sound makes me flinch. My head whips up and my eyes widen as three dark figures lurk in the street, faceless but staring right at us.
“What the fu—”
Sylvan slams me against the ground as the popping bursts a second and then a third time. He grunts as he cages me beneath him, something wet splashing against my skin.
“Fuck,” he growls. “I knew you were going to be trouble, witch.”
I can’t even muster a fuck you because I’m terrified. His arms wrap around me and he lifts, staying low to the ground as he lunges through the open front door. It slams shut behind us, the walls trembling from the force of it.
Neither of us release the other. I wrap my arms around him, pressing my face into the curve of his neck as he carries me down the hall, and then down a set of stairs toward the basement.
“No,” I gasp. “Wait, no. We can’t go down there.”
“We have to,” he says. “There are windows up here. I can’t risk your safety. I’m sorry.”
“That’s how we get trapped—”
He ignores me as his feet hit the bottom step. The heavy door opens and all my panic starts to dig its claws into me as he pushes me into the room.
“I’ll be back,” he says. “Okay?”
“You can’t leave me.” I’m shaking. I hate the basement. I haven’t come down here since I arrived at the manor, and there are reasons for that—
“I’m leaving, but I will come back for you. I’ll always come back for you. Okay? Stay.”
It’s an alpha command.
“No,” I cry. “Don’t command me, Sylvan. Please.”
Tears blur my vision as my muscles go still. He slams the door in my face and it locks. I don’t know if it’s him who does that or the house.
I never wanted to be back in this room. It’s dull and quiet and musty. One of these walls has scratches from my nails grooved into the plaster.
My breaths shorten as my knees turn weak. Darkness seeps into my vision, but it’s not supernatural. It’s fear. Ice spears my chest as I sink to the floor, pushing my back against the door. I can hear more sounds echo outside the house which I realize now are gunshots.
When I look down at myself, I see blood on my dress.
Then it hits me.
The blood is not mine.