Ritual of the Broken (Haunted Hearts)

Chapter 18

Chapter

Eighteen

A drian woke with a start, disoriented and drenched in sweat. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of his surroundings—a room filled with rows of bunks, enough to sleep a dozen at least. Confusion gripped him as the last memory he could grasp was Ellie Barnes’s apartment. But this place... it was hauntingly familiar.

Sitting upright, he realized he wasn’t feverish, just overwhelmed by the stifling heat. He knew exactly where he was—Afghanistan. And he wore his desert camouflage battle dress uniform.

“Keller, front and center!” a gruff voice barked out.

Instinct took over as Adrian swung his legs over the side of the bunk and stood at attention at the end of the row. Gunnery Sergeant Ramirez, an old friend who looked just as Adrian remembered him. They used to work out together, and Ramirez was a crack shot in Call of Duty. But now, he stood before him, all business.

“Langford needs you in the motor pool,” Ramirez said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Langford. The name made Adrian’s throat go dry. That day, the day Langford sent him on his last mission, when he woke up with blood on his hands and its metallic taste lingering on his lips—that day started much like this day he was living now.

Adrian gave Ramirez a brusque nod and hurried out of the barracks, snatching his cover on the way out and putting it on his head as he emerged into the scorching Afghan sun.

He squinted against the harsh sunlight as he made his way across the base, heading north toward the base’s motor pool. Every detail achingly familiar—the rows of khaki desert-drab tents, the stench of diesel fumes mingling with the ever-present scent of sweat and sand. Even the relentless buzz of insects seemed to reverberate through his bones.

This was that day.

His boots kicked up dust as he walked. Bagram Airfield looked exactly as he remembered, down to the last sun-bleached sandbag fortification. It was as if no time had passed at all, the memories so visceral they threatened to consume him.

He neared the motor pool with a knot of dread forming in his gut. Colonel Langford’s summons were a noose tightening around his neck. They always were. He could see the cold shark stare already, the glint as if every interaction was a game to be won, and he had the upper hand.

And that thought made Adrian stop.

Why was he going to Langford? He was living this day—reliving this day, it seemed. It was the same, only something was different. He knew what was to come.

He knew how this played out. No. Not this time. Not again.

Adrian turned and headed south, away from the motor pool and Langford. There had to be a way out. There had to be a way to get free.

Adrian took himself farther away from the motor pool, farther from where he’d stood in front of Langford as the colonel held a small vial filled with his blood. It was with that Langford was able to control him. He manipulated Adrian by taking control of his blood, and he forced him to use his werewolf nature to commit unspeakable acts against his will. Magic. Blood magic.

But he needed to escape. There was something different now. He had a glimmer of hope. He could escape. Escape was within reach.

The air felt thick and oppressive as if the very atmosphere conspired to smother him.

A bead of sweat trickled down his temple as he scanned his surroundings. The colonel’s presence seemed to permeate every corner of the base.

Adrian weaved through clusters of Marines, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass. Yet every so often, a pair of eyes would lock onto his—cold, piercing, and all too familiar. He’d jerk his head away, heart pounding, convinced it was Langford fixating on him like a cobra spotting a rat unaware.

The sense of being watched, of being hunted, gnawed at him relentlessly. He pulled for his wolf, but nothing responded. Adrian picked up his pace, boots crunching against the coarse sand. Escape beckoned, yet Langford’s grip tightened with each passing moment, an invisible noose constricting around his neck.

A knot of Marines congregated near the perimeter of the troop barracks, their laughter carrying on the arid wind. As Adrian neared, time seemed to slow to a crawl. One face among the group stood out in stark relief—those haunting eyes, that impassive expression etched with cruel intention.

Langford.

Adrian froze, rooted to the spot as their gazes met and held. The world around him faded into a blur, muted and inconsequential. All that existed in that moment was the colonel’s unwavering stare, a silent challenge that sent tremors of dread coursing through Adrian’s veins.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to flee before Langford ensnared him once more. But even as his muscles tensed, coiled like a spring, Adrian found himself transfixed, that rat caught in the hypnotic thrall of the cobra.

His wolf! Gods, where was his wolf ?

Shaken, he turned and continued his retreat, though the phantom of Langford’s gaze bore into his back with every step.

Passing other Marines going about their daily routines, Adrian tried to shake off the baleful sense of being watched. Langford was close and getting closer with every step. Adrian attempted again to summon his wolf, but the control was gone—Langford had taken hold.

Breaking into a desperate run, the world around him grew darker, his sprint becoming more frantic. The encroaching darkness enveloped everything, turning the sky pitch-black. An impossibly high fence blocked his path ahead, and Adrian spun around, bracing himself for Langford’s presence.

But what he saw was far more terrifying—the shadowy, malevolent entity that chased him, swirling and growing larger until it blotted out the entire sky. It stared at him, and Adrian felt its tendrils reach into his soul.

His soul ripped and tore, pulled from his flesh. Unimaginable pain.

The entity swooped down upon him, and Adrian screamed into the darkness.

Adrian startled awake, his body tense and coated in a sheen of cold sweat. His eyes darted around the unfamiliar surroundings, trying to get his bearings. The lavish furnishings and plush bedding beneath him were a far cry from the stark military barracks that had haunted his nightmare.

As his racing heart began to slow, Adrian became aware of a gentle presence nearby, a now familiar scent. He turned to find Ollie propped up in a chair beside the bed, engrossed in an ancient-looking tome. Sensing Adrian’s movements, Ollie looked up, his eyes widening slightly.

“You’re awake,” Ollie said, carefully setting the book aside. He leaned forward, concern etched across his features as he reached out to feel Adrian’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Good,” Adrian replied, trying to keep the shake out of his voice from the remnants of the dream. As the fog of sleep dissipated, he became aware of a distinct lack of pain or discomfort. A hand went to his chest, and his gaze dropped to his wound.

In place of the ragged gash, Adrian found only smooth, pink skin—his accelerated healing already well underway.

“It started to heal as soon as the curse was lifted,” Ollie said.

“And the curse?”

“It should be gone.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Should be?”

Ollie leaned closer. “We spent the better part of last night pulling it out bit by bit. But Nyla insisted you stay here for observation. This was a dark poison that left behind the curse, and she said sometimes dark curses can be stubborn. ”

Adrian didn’t like the idea of falling back into that ordeal again, dealing with the darkness and reliving nightmare scenarios. He nodded, still processing everything. “How long was I out?”

“Nearly twelve hours,” Ollie replied. “You had us worried for a bit there.”

Adrian looked at Ollie. “And you were here? You waited here?”

He smiled. “I told you I wasn’t going to leave your side.”

And he didn’t. He’d kept the promise. That sent a warmth coursing through Adrian’s chest that he’d rarely felt before, a sense of someone having his back. And not in the way cops did. He’d worked with partners before. This was different. This was touching on a deeper connection he was never able to find in partners and in one-night stands.

“So, wait.” Adrian tensed. “You said the better part of last night.”

“Yeah. It’s Wednesday night.” Ollie looked at his phone screen. “Almost Thursday.”

The weight of his responsibilities came crashing back, and Adrian sat upright, suddenly anxious. “The investigation. My lieutenant is going to want an update.”

Ollie’s hand found Adrian’s shoulder, gently pressing him back against the pillows. “Relax,” he soothed. “You’re in recovery. Besides, we’re still waiting on word from Emmerich about the runes.”

Reluctantly, Adrian gave in, sinking back into the plush bedding. As much as he longed to throw himself back into the case, he knew Ollie was right. They needed more information before proceeding, and pushing himself too soon could jeopardize everything.

“I should still put a call in,” Adrian said.

“You’re fine.” Ollie’s face became a sheepish grin. “I sort of put in a report for you.”

Adrian sat up again. “You what?”

“I saw your password when you put it in the last time, and I remembered how stressed you were about giving reports.” He glanced around the room. “I had some time to spare, so I, well…”

Adrian looked at the nightstands next to the bed until he found his phone on one, along with his badge, gun, and wallet. He snatched up the phone and logged into the CPD reporting app. Nervous, he opened the latest filed report. But after he read through the contents of it, his shoulders slumped back onto the pillow. There was no mention of the murder of Eleanor Barnes, just that he was there following a lead when her body was discovered. The way Ollie phrased it put it into River Grove’s jurisdiction, with Adrian intending to follow up.

He turned back to Ollie with softer eyes. “She’s going to want more information about Ellie Barnes, like who I spoke to in River Grove PD. And why I was there in the first place.”

“And I’m sure you’ll figure that out. But I tried to buy you some time.” Ollie still leaned close.

Adrian held his phone out for Ollie to put back on the nightstand. Ollie reached out for it, but held his hand there, his fingertips lightly touching Adrian’s.

“You want some food?” Ollie asked. “I’m sure there’s something I can conjure up nearb?—”

Adrian reached with his other hand and grabbed Ollie’s wrist. He pulled him forward with a little help of werewolf strength.

Ollie yelped in surprise, but the result was exactly what Adrian hoped for: Ollie’s face was inches from him.

“Yeah, I’m hungry,” Adrian said in a hoarse whisper.

Ollie stared at him, and Adrian stared back. Their eyes created a spark of energy… and then Ollie closed the space between them.

Ollie kissed him. He did more than kiss him. He breathed him in as his tongue explored Adrian’s.

His hands journeyed to places he’d only dreamed of as well, tangling fingers into Adrian’s hair and rubbing the broad expanse of his naked back as Adrian sat up in the bed. And his senses took in every little detail that made up the man he embraced. The scent of Adrian’s skin, the hint of cologne still on his neck, the shampoo in his hair—and the taste of his mouth, the feel of his firm, muscular body pressed up against Ollie’s own.

It was all overwhelming—in a good way. The skin on his face and throat was hot. Ollie didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want the moment to end. It had been too long since he felt the touch of another person or experienced being wanted. Even with Emmerich, there was very little intimacy as their relationship crumbled.

And he wasn’t sure how much longer it would last. This could all end the moment his usefulness to the detective ran out. He wanted—needed—to experience this with Adrian.

They both paused, their breaths ragged and bodies still entwined. Ollie drank in the sight of Adrian’s flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. Suddenly Adrian laughed like he was stunned, and their eyes locked for a charged moment. Then Adrian kissed Ollie once more.

Ollie felt himself rolled over onto the bed. The bed creaked. His breath became short.

But he took the chance to do the thing he’d wanted to do since he’d seen that little bit of hair at the detective’s open collar. He put a hand on the hot skin of Adrian’s chest and firm pecs to tangle in the light hair. Adrian’s weight bore him into the bed, and Ollie moved his hips upward to enjoy the sensation of pushing himself into Adrian’s crotch. He wasn’t disappointed to find stiff resistance from Adrian, same as his own.

And Adrian’s hands pulled Ollie’s shirt from the waistband of his pants, and he felt Adrian’s fingers touch the bare skin of his stomach. It made Ollie shudder.

“Is this okay?” Adrian asked him between kisses.

Yes! Gods yes! Ollie wanted to scream it at him. He wanted to feel Adrian naked against him, to be utterly consumed by the werewolf. “Yes,” Ollie breathed against him in a hushed voice.

But Adrian stopped kissing him. Instead, he turned his attention to the buttons of Ollie’s shirt, working them with near frantic haste. Finally! “Buttons! Gah!”

Ollie laughed while Adrian unbuttoned the rest of the shirt. It made him a little self-conscious as he kept his hands on Adrian’s chest. Ollie wasn’t a gym guy, but he kept active. He liked to think it showed. He wasn’t ashamed of what he looked like in a mirror.

But he was nothing like Adrian. His chest, the way his arms flexed and the muscles in his forearms twitched and worked as his fingers worked the buttons... Even his fingers had muscles. Was that possible? And those abs. Dear gods, those abs. They scrambled Ollie’s brain to look at them. Ollie felt like a wet noodle compared to the man straddling his hips.

Adrian threw open the fabric of Ollie’s shirt, his eyes grazing down Ollie’s lean chest and tight stomach like a hungry predator deciding which part to attack first. “Gods, you’re hot,” Adrian said, breathless.

Ollie stared up at him, confused. Could werewolves read minds?

It must have shown on Ollie’s face because Adrian paused again as he looked down at Ollie, his eyes dark with lust. It was thrilling, the sensation of being wanted. It had been a long time since Ollie felt like this.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Adrian asked again, his voice thick with desire .

In response, Ollie reached down and unbuckled his belt and pulled open the front of his pants. Adrian lifted himself to accommodate as Ollie frantically pulled his pants below his hips until Adrian, laughing, helped him take them the rest of the way off.

“What do you think?” Ollie asked him as he removed his shirt completely and lay back on the bed.

Adrian, grinning, reached down and undid the button of his own pants. During the cleansing ritual, they hadn’t had to go below the waist, so there had been no need to remove Adrian’s pants. Not that it wasn’t anything Ollie hadn’t seen already at the cemetery after the attack. But this time, it was different. Now Ollie got to truly enjoy the show.

Adrian rolled over onto his back enough to kick off his blue jeans. The man went commando. Then he rolled back over on top of Ollie.

Their skin pressed against one another. There was no hiding how he felt… this was everything Ollie wanted. To show his need, Ollie pushed his cock up to tangle into Adrian’s crotch, and Adrian ground his hips into Ollie, sending shockwaves of mindless erotic pleasure cascading through him.

And they kissed some more.

It was surprising to Ollie what kissing a werewolf was like. He expected to be mauled—which, to be perfectly clear, he was totally okay with in this circumstance. But Adrian was soft, gentle. His lips sampled, his tongue savored .

Ollie let out a soft moan as Adrian’s weight pressed down on him, their bodies moving together in a sinuous rhythm. He could feel Adrian’s hardness pressing against his own, sending sparks of pleasure through his body.

And Adrian’s hand moved tenderly over Ollie’s naked chest and stomach, sliding lower until Ollie gasped as Adrian’s fingers wrapped around his shaft.

“You like that,” Adrian said.

“Uh-huh,” Ollie said, his mouth slack. Adrian’s fingers tickled and teased all over his cock, moving up and down, grazing lightly over his balls. He didn’t just like this. He loved this.

“Your smell is driving me wild,” Adrian whispered into Ollie’s ear.

A comment like that carried a different kind of weight coming from a werewolf, and Ollie was here for it.

“I want to smell more of you.” Adrian moved down Ollie’s neck and to his chest.

As Adrian’s lips trailed down his chest and stomach, Ollie’s breath hitched in his throat. Every touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure like lightning through his body. Adrian’s tongue dipped near his navel, eliciting a soft moan from Ollie. He could feel Adrian’s smirk against his skin, a silent acknowledgment of the power he held over him.

Ollie’s fingers tangled in Adrian’s hair as he felt the werewolf’s warm breath against his cock. His heart pounded in his chest, anticipation building as Adrian teased him with feather-light kisses along his shaft. And then, without warning, Adrian took him into his mouth, and Ollie’s back arched off the bed.

There were no words, only sensation. Smooth sensation. He felt powerless, played with every tickling touch. Adrian’s mouth was hot and wet, his tongue working magic as it swirled around the head of his cock. Ollie’s grip tightened in Adrian’s hair, his hips bucking up to meet the werewolf’s mouth. He could hear the soft sounds of Adrian’s moans vibrating against his skin, and it caused a noise from Ollie’s throat.

Ollie’s mind went blank as Adrian worked him over, all thought and reason abandoned. Fingers pinched a nipple, tickled along his rib cage. A probing push of a thumb into the rosebud of his ass. He was lost in the sensation, in the feel of Adrian’s mouth on him, in the way the werewolf seemed to know exactly what he needed. It was a level of intimacy he hadn’t expected, a connection he hadn’t anticipated all those hours ago when Adrian had him pushed up against a wall. Now, Adrian was welcome to push him into the bed, up against walls, onto the floor—wherever he wanted. Ollie was ready and willing.

And when he came, it was with a shout, Adrian’s name on his lips. His body trembled as the pleasure washed over him, his grip on Adrian’s hair tightening as he rode out the wave. He could feel Adrian’s smirk against his skin as he pulled back, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

As Ollie lay there, panting and spent, he couldn’t help but compare the experience to his past encounters. Emmerich had never made him feel like this, had never sent him spiraling into oblivion with just a touch. It was a startling realization, one that left him feeling both exhilarated and terrified.

But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, choosing instead to bask in the afterglow. Adrian settled beside him, pulling him close, and Ollie let himself be enveloped in the werewolf’s embrace. It was a moment of pure bliss, one he wanted to last forever.

“That’s not fair,” Ollie said with a breathless smile. They kissed again.

“What’s not fair?” Adrian asked him.

Ollie reached down and caressed Adrian’s still-firm cock. “I wanted you to finish, too,” he said.

“Oh, baby,” Adrian said as he reached down and gave Ollie’s cock a playful tug. “We’re just getting started.”

In a move that surprised even himself, he grabbed Adrian and rolled him over so that he was on top. “Yes. Yes, we are.”

Ollie’s mouth moved into a sly grin. He took a moment to lock eyes with the man underneath him as he slowly moved down Adrian’s chest, using his tongue to tease one of Adrian’s nipples. The tickle of Adrian’s chest hair was intoxicating, and Ollie buried his face in between Adrian’s pecs and breathed in.

Then he moved down the mounds and ridges of Adrian’s abdominal muscles. This was probably the hottest guy he’d ever been with, someone with a body Ollie had only let himself stare at in images found on the internet. It made him want to savor every moment .

And he hoped maybe there’d be more after this.

When Ollie made it to Adrian’s stomach, he hovered just above Adrian’s thick cock. He watched Adrian’s face, enjoying the expression that seemed to beg for more. It sent a thrill down to his own cock when, as he touched his tongue to the tip of Adrian’s, Adrian dropped his head back and moaned.

Yes, this was a night where he intended to take his time.

And then, Ollie moved away from Adrian’s cock to the man’s full balls. He took in Adrian’s musky scent as his tongue worked over one testicle, then the other. Was this how a werewolf indulged with their nose, that heady aroma of a man so close?

Finally, when Adrian let out a groan, Ollie pushed one leg aside and ducked down to run his tongue over Adrian’s taint. This elicited more gasps from Adrian and a hand that tangled fingers into Ollie’s hair. And Ollie remained there until Adrian’s breaths grew ragged.

Then, finally, before Adrian had a chance to recover, Ollie moved back up and took Adrian’s full cock into his mouth, a move that made Adrian’s groan turn into something more.

This might not last long. Adrian bucked in the bed and gripped the sheets, and Ollie knew what he was doing. He teased and played with Adrian’s cock and balls as he moved his mouth up and down the werewolf’s shaft. It didn’t take long before Adrian’s groans became more insistent, his fingers tightening in Ollie’s hair.

“I’m going to come,” Adrian panted, his voice strained.

Ollie only tightened his lips around Adrian’s cock in response, sucking him in deeper.

With a loud growl, Adrian came, his hot seed filling Ollie’s mouth. Ollie swallowed it down, savoring the salty taste of Adrian’s release.