Bound By Darkness

Chapter 13

LYRA

I try to run, but my arm is caught in his grip by the time my hands reach the door handle. A scream tears through my throat, but no one comes. Even if someone heard my voice, I’m in the home of one of the most respected men in the town.

I should have predicted this, blinded by my need for information, acting without thinking shit through, blind to the risks. The fear is there, has been since the thought first crossed my mind, yet I still walked right into the beast's lair, stepping foot into the world of fucking nightmares, only to be caught in his web once more.

The difference is, this time, I'm not frozen. Fire flows through my veins, willing my limbs to fight. He may be a little frailer, more waif-like than he used to be eight years ago, but he still towers over me. A look of disgust washes over him, his lip pulling up into a snarl. Gone is the man in control of himself and those around him.

His grip around my throat burns, pinching in at the sides, the two chains indenting into my skin. I try to focus on that pain, centralize it, reduce the panic spreading through my body at a rapid pace. He pulls me closer, his face inches from my own.

“You!” he spits, saliva hitting my cheeks. “You are the reason for all of this, you little cunt. He has haunted me for fucking years because he wanted a taste of the pussy I owned. Do you have any idea how hard it was to get custody of you? I had to put up with your bitch of a mother for years just to have a taste, and then he took you from me.”

My stomach roils, contorting my body as the bile floods my mouth. I kick and scratch, my flailing limbs connecting with his body over and over until he pins me harder. His face is covered in crimson slashes from my nails, and a little part deep inside of me heals itself. A very small part buried deep down applauding the fight back, knowing that last time I was unable to.

Just as the stars begin to dance behind my eyes and the shadows seep in like smoke, the front door is torn from its hinges. Wind outside howls, the dark sky a haunting backdrop for the being standing in the doorway. He’s back.

“No!” Stanton snarls, his hand still gripping my throat. “She fucking came to me. It’s her fault she is in this mess, not mine.”

There, staring right through my soul, is the giant wolf-like beast from the night at the cemetery, his glowing ember eyes bright in the haze surrounding him. Within seconds, he has closed the space between us, consuming my attention completely. Heat flushes my skin the closer it gets, as though there is a fire burning beside me.

Stanton drops my body to the ground, the room spinning from the rush of air filling my lungs. Each inhale hurts more than the last, a choked cough filling the tense silence. The two stand there, staring at each other, leaving me to watch this play out. I sit up, sliding my back against the wall to stand, my eyes not leaving the beast. His chest heaves, smoke billowing from his dark fur more intensely than the last time I laid eyes on him.

“The little bitch came back to me; just fucking ask her. She came here to ask a question until you barged in and interrupted us.”

I watch as Stanton trembles, his words coming out with more bite than his body language would suggest. The man is shaking, attempting to stand his ground and failing miserably. To be honest, it brings a little bit of joy to watch this—not that I would ever admit that to anyone. This fucking man stole my life from me, changing its course.

Closing what little space there is between them, the beast's lip pulls up into a snarl, his sharp teeth glinting in the darkness. He is the most hauntingly stunning thing I have ever laid my eyes on, even more so now. The fear that once laced my thoughts has been altered, shifting into something more dangerous. Intrigue. This creature comes to me when I need it most, sparing my life while stripping others of their own.

“Go on. Take me out of my misery. You know you want to. You have always fucking wanted to. DO IT!”

It watches Stanton closely, not moving a muscle. Those flame-filled eyes glow, flickering small embers around his face. In the tense silence, I can almost hear the roar of flames, though it could be the heat rushing to my ears.

Stanton approaches me, his hand reaching for my shoulder, but I move just in time, ducking away from his touch. The slashes across his cheeks are now flowing with blood, dripping onto the dusty floor beneath us.

“Fine. Want to watch me take her again, hmm? Want to watch a re-run of me ruining her? Your secret little fucking obses?—”

He’s cut off by the beast leaping at him in a mess of teeth and blood. Screams and snarls, the snapping of bones and flesh fill the room. My heart races as I stare into the mass of smoke with nothing but the odd paw or snout coming out from the haze.

My breath is caught in my throat, tears streaming down each cheek with a confliction of feelings flowing through me at once. Relief and fear clash into me, forcing my body to tremble as I watch the carnage unfold.

Minutes later, the smoke begins to settle, creating a soft haze along the ceiling, revealing him again. Only this time, he’s dripping, his teeth stained red, the blood of my stepfather flowing from his open maw. The sight should have me running, screaming at the top of my lungs. Instead, my body moves without second thought with an outstretched hand. An overwhelming sense of closeness washes over me, willing me toward him.

A low whine rumbles from the beast's chest the moment my hand connects with the side of his face, wetness flowing between the webs of my fingers. Its fur is warm to the touch, hot, even, drenched through to the skin. He turns to look at the mass on the ground behind him, speaking in a low tone that does things to me it certainly shouldn't.

“Get the fuck out and take your wench with you. Enjoy meeting your reaper, you waste of fucking space,” he growls, his voice gravelly. I had no idea the creature could talk, let alone that it could sound like that. The low octave has a shiver running up my spine, and not in an unpleasant way. Another large gust of wind travels through the front door, kicking up dust and smoke before it all drops. Dead silence washes over us, nothing but me and the wolf.

“Who are you?” I whisper, my throat still hurting from Stanton’s punishing grip.

His body shakes beneath my touch, leaning in closer, eyes now boring straight into mine. A thin sheen of sweat breaks out across my skin being this close, the warmth almost unbearable, but I don't want to step away. There is a comfort, one I can’t explain, considering I’m in a room with a creature that shouldn't exist, the corpse of my abusive stepfather a few feet away. But I’m entranced by it, his presence feeling like a warm embrace.

The feeling brings tears to my eyes, the emotion pouring out like the wall of the dam has just been broken. Once they start, it’s impossible to stop, regardless of how exposed I feel in this moment, open and raw, unable to rein myself in.

“Do you…Do you know anything about my stepbrother, Ryker? He found me that night, the one when you killed those men,” I plead to the beast, praying he gives me something, anything, to shed some light on where he is, especially now with Stanton gone, the blood almost reaching the tips of my boots.

With one deep breath, he’s engulfed in smoke, my hand dropping to my side as he disappears into the haze. The sound of snapping bones bounces off the walls, but I can’t see enough to know what’s happening. My heart sinks, knowing what it took to see the beast again in the first place, another experience of me skating death. Something that I can only experience so many times before the universe decides to let me go.

The faint outline of a man becomes clearer as the moments tick on, the smokey haze starting to rise to the ceiling, revealing him. My eyes travel from the ground up, taking in every single feature I can in the low lighting. The intricate tattoos, the blood dripping from his knuckles onto the floor—he’s completely naked, with an intimidating-sized cock sitting proudly against his thigh. It takes me a moment to keep looking, distracted by the way it twitches under my gaze.

My head starts to spin, from smoke inhalation or whatever the fuck is standing in front of me, I don’t know. Because when I finally make it to the man’s face, the person staring back at me with fire-lit pupils steals every last breath I have in my chest.

“Don’t come closer, Lyra. I fucking mean it.”

With no hesitation, I rush to him, crashing my body into his. He doesn’t move an inch, his body completely rigid in my hold. Sobs wrack through me as my nails dig deep into the skin of his back, not giving a single fuck about whether it hurts him at this point.

“Lyra, if you don’t step away right fucking now..”

“You will what, run away until I am having another near-death experience?”

His hands grip my shoulders, pulling me from his front and keeping me at arm’s length. His stare traps me, mesmerized by the orange and red dancing behind the midnight pupils. Small hints of blue show through the longer I stare, luring me in further to get a closer look.

“You should fear me, little sister,” he growls. “You just watched me kill him, rip him to fucking shreds. You watched me change from a bear-sized hellhound into this right before your eyes, and you got turned on. I can scent you, Lyra, and fuck if I am going to be able to control myself much longer if you don’t LEAVE.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks at his crude words. He doesn't understand how much I need him, how much my soul craves his and always has, since the day I walked through the front door behind us, his eyes finding mine from the stairs. Ever since that day, he has felt like home, even when he is trying to push me away.

“You tell me right now that you don’t care about me, that you genuinely want me to fucking leave. Tell me without a word of a lie that you never want to see me again, Ryker, and I will live my existence away from you.”

“I CAN’T!”