Fated Hearts (Echoes of Darkness Prequel)

19

Ava

W hen I come to, the first thing I notice is the smell of freshly chopped wood, earthy and musky with a hint of pine. It’s quickly overpowered by a dull throbbing in the back of my head, and the muscles in my arms are screaming in pain, my wrists raw as if there’s something digging painfully into them. My throat is as dry as the Sahara desert, and my eyelids weigh a thousand pounds. After a few seconds, the effort pays off, and I’m finally able to open my eyes.

I’m in some sort of a basement. The space is small and rudimentary. The walls are all wooden, and there’s only one narrow rectangular window placed high on the wall on my right. It’s covered by snow, and fiery orange light slants through a small hole. It must be either sunrise or sundown; I can’t make much of it other than that. On the wall in front of me hangs a display of hunting knives, and under them sits the only piece of furniture, a scruffy-looking oak table.

I look up and realize why my muscles are in so much agony. My wrists are tied together, and I’m dangling from a hook in the ceiling like in some mobster movie, my toes barely touching the cement floor. I’m naked. But why? How? Who would do this to me?

And then it hits me. The Halloween party. Oh God…Tony. Poor Tony. He’s dead. Torn to pieces by that wolf. My heart cracks down the middle when the images start playing on a loop like a broken record in my mind.

A sob escapes my throat, and then the dam breaks. I can’t stop the overflowing current of emotions that rake through my body as my tears start flowing freely, blurring my vision and wetting my cheeks, cascading down on my naked chest.

Heavy footsteps and a creaking sound pull my attention toward the wooden stairs on my left. I blink a few times in order to clear the blurriness caused by the onslaught of tears. Honey eyes lock with mine as Logan descends the last two steps, and his fingers flick over a light switch. The sudden burst of light blinds me momentarily, but it’s a short moment, and it doesn’t stop my heart from fluttering in my chest at the sight of him. I haven’t seen Logan in a month, and I feel as if I’ve been starved for the sight of him. My eyes drink him in ravenously, and the strange attraction I feel for him hits me full force.

“L-logan? Please, help me.” My voice comes out raspy, like I haven’t spoken a word in days.

A cruel smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he saunters toward me with a predatory gait, all clean lines and taut, sinewy muscles under his gray tee and dark denim. “You can drop the act, Ava. Or is your real name even Ava?”

My eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Of course it is. What are you talking about?”

He reaches me, and then one hand comes up, cruel, punishing fingers grabbing the sides of my face and pressing into my cheeks. “I must admit, you’ve put on a good show, playing all innocent and tempting. You’re a good actress. Maybe you should look into Hollywood. If you survive, that is.”

Logan’s touch burns through my skin, even if it brings me pain. The air between us crackles with energy, and all of a sudden, I’m aware of the fact that I’m stark naked and at his mercy. The room is stifling; it feels like I’m inhaling the air coming out of a hot oven.

“What show? What are you talking about? I don’t understand—”

“Cut the act! You can’t fool me anymore. Where’s my real fated mate? What did you do to her?” His upper lip curls, baring his teeth while his fingers bite into my cheeks, and I wince in pain. He looks feral, almost like a wolf.

An image from the woods, being chased by the giant wolf with ash-brown fur and amber eyes, flashes through my mind. My stomach takes a nosedive straight to the bottom of my feet. It’s him . Logan is the wolf I’ve been dreaming about. But unlike my dreams…he’s here to hurt me.

The temperature in the room continues to rise. A drop of sweat rolls down my spine, and my hair sticks to my sweaty forehead. “Please, Logan. Please. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His jaw locks with anger as he dips down and crowds me, his nose pressing into mine. “Did you do some kind of spell on me? Are you working with a witch?”

A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. “A witch?” His nostrils flare in response, and I realize he’s being serious. Are witches real?

?Mierda! What else is out there?

His hand releases my jaw, but he lowers it and circles my throat in a punishing grip, cutting off my air supply and making me sputter. “Stop playing with me,” he seethes.

In that moment, something weird happens to my body; my nipples stand up at attention, and desire pools at my core. Despite hanging in a literal dungeon. Logan finally releases me when I feel like I’m going to faint. I gasp for air, and it’s impossible to form a thought with the haze of lust muddling my brain.

His gaze roves over me lazily, a glint of hunger shining in his eyes, and then, as if he can’t stop himself, he palms my breast, brushing an electrifying thumb over my taut nipple. I can’t stop the moan that escapes my mouth.

What is happening to me?

It’s so hot in here it feels like I have descended into the pits of Hell. Perspiration coats my entire body, and I’m so wet between my legs that I’m dripping down my thighs.

Logan’s chest moves rapidly with every inhale, and his nostrils flare as if he is scenting the air. In the next second, his eyes narrow. A muscle jumps in his taut jaw. When he steps into me, my nipples rub onto his chest, sending ripples of desire down the ladder of my spine. I have to bite my lip hard to stifle another moan. “Answer me! Where is my fated mate?”

I close my eyes and swallow, my throat raw. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I rasp as my eyes snap open. There’s something wrong. “Please,” I whisper, but I don’t know what I’m begging for. “I feel weird. I need, I need…” I press my thighs together in a failed attempt to stop the searing fire that’s taken over my body. Looking down, I see the massive erection tenting the front of Logan’s jeans, and I whimper with need.

Logan tilts his head, and something flashes in his eyes as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You’re in heat,” he says in disbelief.

I don’t understand what being in heat means, but somehow, it’s exactly how I’m feeling. Only heat is too mild of a word. I’m being scorched from the inside out.

Logan circles me, and then I feel him at my back. “Why are you killing humans?”

“I didn’t kill anyone—”

“Liar!” He fists my hair, and his other hand palms my right ass cheek before it comes down in a punishing blow that I feel right in the center of my pussy.

Tears spring to my eyes with the sting, but more in shame because I’m so turned on I can barely see straight.

“What do you need their hearts for?”

“Logan, you have to listen to me, I didn’t do any—”

“Liar!”

Thwack!

“How did you manage to hide your scent for so long?”

“I don’t under—”

Thwack!

My eyes roll in the back of my head as every slap brings a new surge of pleasure.

“Are you working with a witch?”

“Plea—”

Thwack!

Logan surprises me in the next moment by caressing the smarting skin. “Look at you, dripping for me. You like this, don’t you? Being at my mercy,” he drawls, his voice like gravel, thickened by his desire. He angles my head before I feel his breath fanning the side of my neck, sending shivers all over my skin. Then his thumb brushes over my engorged clit in one swift motion.

I catch fire.

I can’t stop the loud moan that tumbles out of my mouth. He dips a thick, long finger inside me and pumps it in and out, making me crazy. I would normally be embarrassed by the sounds I’m making, but I’m past the point of caring. Pleasure singes me. My blood bubbles inside my veins. I’m so close. So close. As if sensing I’m about to reach the high I so desperately crave, Logan takes out his finger. My cry of frustration almost sounds like a feral growl.

“Open your mouth!” he commands. It feels like he’s the master puppeteer, pulling my strings. And without thinking, I obey. He pushes the dripping finger inside my mouth, pressing it against my tongue. “Suck.”

The moment my lips close around his digit, a violent tremor goes through Logan. Our gazes snare and hold as I suck on it, tasting myself. A deep growl leaves his chest. It makes me vibrate with need. He drops the hand holding my hair, and then he pinches my nipple. Hard. I cry out at the assault on my nerve endings.

He slides his finger out of my mouth, which I let go with a loud pop. Using the pads of his pointer fingers, Logan circles my areolas slowly, but not near enough my nipples where I need him. His left hand bands around my waist, plastering my back to his front. I feel every inch of his hard-as-steel cock pressing into my back.

“P-please,” I beg.

Logan laughs, the sound cruel. He glides his free hand down my body until he reaches my inner thighs, his movements slow, maddening. His fingers inch up and brush over my outer lips, but he still doesn’t give me what I want.

“Please, Logan,” I sputter, blinded by the lust coursing in my veins like molten lava. Tears escape my eyes and roll down my cheeks out of sheer frustration. He’s playing with me like a cat with a mouse, and I fell into his trap. I have no other choice; the haze of desire is too strong. I need him inside of me like I need my next breath.

“Do you want to come?” he taunts.

“Y-yes,” I mumble on a breathy whisper.

“Then tell me the truth, and maybe I’ll consider letting you come.” His breath fans the side of my face, and his delicious, woodsy, spicy scent envelops me, coating my skin like molasses.

“I told you the truth. I’m telling you the truth. Please, Logan. Please. You have to believe me. I didn’t do anything,” I try to plead with him, my tone coaxing.

Logan abruptly lets me go, so my full weight yanks down on the rope around my wrists and the hook. My muscles scream in agony, and I’m reminded that I’m hanging from the ceiling. At this point, I can’t even feel my hands anymore. I chance a look up. My fingers are starting to turn blue from the lack of blood circulation.

My fingers quickly become the least of my worries. A cold barrel of a gun is pressed in the center of my forehead.

“Stop fucking lying to me!” he sneers, a crazy look in his eyes, his lips curled in disgust. “These are not regular bullets, Ava. They’re made out of silver and dipped in aconite.” He smirks like I’m supposed to know what that means. “So you better start telling the truth.”

I can’t take it anymore, the craziness of it all, the fire blazing through my body.

I snap.

“I don’t know what that means, you stupid fucking bastard!” I scream at the top of my lungs. Logan doesn’t react to my outburst; he just narrows his eyes and tilts his head. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t even know what a fated mate is, and honestly, I don’t even fucking care. I was at a Halloween bonfire party near the lake. I needed to pee, so I went by myself into the woods, and then I heard a scream. It sounded like Tony, so I ran to him.” I take a deep breath in. “I reached him, but it was too late.” My voice cracks, and my lower lip trembles with my admission.

“Tony, he…he was being mauled by a big wolf with auburn fur. It clawed out his heart. Then I realized I was in danger, but when I decided to get out of there, I stepped on a branch. When the wolf noticed me, something happened to me. All the bones in my body started to break, and I felt like I was dying.” I shudder at the memory of the intense pain. It takes a few seconds for me to be able to continue.

“It sounds insane, I know, but I think I transformed into a wolf. When my vision cleared, I saw someone wearing a dark cloak, collecting the hearts from the forest floor. The wolf then disappeared with that cloaked person through the trees and left me there. As if that wasn’t crazy enough, before I could even catch my fucking breath, another wolf came charging at me. I guess that wolf was you because, apparently, people transforming into wolves is a thing now. Next thing I know, I wake up here. That’s it. That’s my truth. That’s all I know. I keep thinking that maybe, maybe , I’ll wake up from this fucking nightmare. But I’m not going to, am I? This is all real.”

A deep belly laugh belts out of me, and I sound just like a crazy person. It dies as abruptly as it came out. I throw Logan a scathing glare. “So shoot me, you oaf! Fucking shoot me and get it over with,” I seethe.

His lips twist in a wry smile. “Did you just call me an oaf?”

My jaw locks with anger. “Oh, I can do better than that: motherfucker, egotistical bastard, dickhead, pendejo, hijo de put —”

Logan cuts me off. “Okay, I think I got the gist of it,” he says dryly. He lowers his gun and sits for a minute with everything I said as he starts pacing the small space. Then he turns to me. “So what, I’m supposed to believe you shifted for the first time last night?”

“Is that what it’s called? Shifting? Yeah, I did, and trust me, it was a fucking shock, to say the least.”

“So you were bitten, then. Where’s your sire?”

My eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “My what?”

He widens his stance and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Your sire, Ava. Stop playing stupid.”

I let out a frustrated groan. “I’m not playing stupid. I don’t know what that is. No one fucking bit me. All I know is that my life was normal until I discovered I was going to die a few months ago. Then my heart stopped. I had a transplant, and all of these weird things started happening to me.”

He arches an eyebrow at me. “Where’s your scar?”

“What?”

“If you had heart transplant surgery, then why don’t you have a scar?”

“It healed, okay? I know it’s weird, especially since I had the surgery four months ago. But my doctor said not to worry about it. It’s just one of the weird things that happened after.”

“What are the others? Enlighten me,” he deadpans.

I swallow and close my eyes briefly, trying to stay in the present, but it’s getting harder by the minute with how badly my skin is burning. I feel like someone threw me into a furnace. “Like dreaming about a wolf with a coat of ash-brown fur and honey eyes almost every night, becoming weirdly strong—like breaking things without trying—smelling and hearing someone before they walk into a room…”

Taking a deep breath in, I open my eyes. My vision is slightly blurry, and beads of sweat are now coursing freely from my hairline over my face. “And then there’s Hope, the girl I received the heart from. A girl who was in a cult in this weird little town, Devil’s Creek. They did satanic rituals wearing the skin of wolves. At least, that’s what my private investigator told me. So my best guess is that the heart I received is cursed or some shit. Just my luck to receive another chance at life and then get a freakin’ curse,” I mumble the last part to myself.

A laugh bursts out of Logan, and then he doubles over and continues laughing like he just heard the most amusing joke ever. He comes up for air after what seems like forever and wipes at the corner of his eyes. “That has to be the funniest shit I’ve heard in my entire life. You really expect me to believe you?”

“Glad you found it entertaining, pendejo ,” I snark. “Yes, I do because I told you the truth. She also disappeared when she was fifteen years old and then reappeared the night she died in a car accident. It’s real; her disappearance was even broadcasted on the news eight years ago. There are articles online.”

“I don’t know if you’re crazy or delusional enough to believe that story, but what you’re telling me is impossible. Wolf shifters are either born or sired by a bite. When you get bitten, there is a ninety percent chance you’ll turn feral and go crazy. But you already know all this, so stop stalling with your bullshit and tell me where my fated mate is,” he demands with a sneer and points the gun at me again.

I don’t say anything else as I glare at him, my breath coming out in short pants. I’m grinding my teeth so hard I’m surprised they don’t turn to dust. I don’t have it in me to continue this crazy conversation. I have tried every single thing to reason with him, and he won’t hear it, so why should I waste my breath anymore when he’s not going to believe me anyway?

Something inside of me is going feral. I keep hearing in my brain, “Mine!” over and over again, and all I want to do is climb Logan like a tree and fuck his brains out, but at the same time, I hate him so much for doing this to me, for not believing me. He hung me like an animal, and I still want him so damn much it hurts. Every inch of my skin is weeping for his touch, and I’m so mad at myself for feeling this way, but I can’t stop it. I don’t know how.

Anger is rolling off Logan in waves as he stares me down, waiting for an answer. Well, we’ll be here forever at this rate because I have nothing else to give him, so he can as well shoot me and get it over with. This doesn’t fucking scare me. I already looked death in the face twice. The way I see it, I was supposed to give my last breath in that tour van …. At least I got the wings I so desperately craved.

“Fine,” he spews and lowers the gun when he finally realizes I’m not going to say anything. “Have it your way then. We’ll talk in a few hours. Maybe you’ll change your mind by then.” He turns and leaves me there in the basement, but I don’t miss the way his muscles lock his movements like it’s physically hurting him to walk away from me.