What have I done?
“Well, my dark lord? If we—”
“Never call me by that title.” He clenched his hands until his blunt nails dented his palms, then closed his eyes. “Only the woman I love is allowed to call me that.”
“I apologize.” Her words came out as a whisper.
More guilt twisted his gut. “No, I should apologize. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It is just that—”
“You need not explain yourself. Sex and lust are not the same as love, and you will never have mine either. I foolishly gave my eternal devotion away to the male who damned me. Now”—she stepped closer, and the scent of vanilla surrounded him—“if we conceive a girl, what shall I name her?”
He inhaled deeply, letting the female’s sweet fragrance fill his lungs. The first stirrings of lust tightened his body, even while bile choked him and his stomach churned.
“Tegan. You will name our child Tegan.”
She undid the ties binding his tunic and skimmed her fingertips down his abs to shaft. With a few strokes, his cock thickened. She squeezed his length. His air escaped on a hiss.
“Then let us finish this. I wish to leave my living hell behind.”
And our babe will be the one who claims it from you.
He kept the truth to himself. Nobody would learn of the sin he’d committed, not even his children.
There was only one vow left to make.
I will avenge all those I’ve wronged—my mate, my children, the humans. Never again will I fail in the role I was meant to play…
Lord of the Underworld.
The Wild Hunt series continues with the first story of Arawn’s damned children, Betrayed.
Learn More about Betrayed
Read an excerpt:
Modern time - Nine Years Ago
Harley Callahan peered through the windshield. No lights shone in her house. She scanned the windows for movement. Nothing. She grinned and barely resisted doing a little dance in her seat. Another successful escape from the mansion of solitude. She wished she’d started sneaking out sooner. The past seven days had been the best of her life.
Tomorrow would be even better. She was moving out. Harley couldn’t wait to turn her back on her privileged life and the secluded three-hundred-acre estate she called home. Deep in the Catskill Mountains of New York, her parents’ country retreat offered walking paths, gardens, a lake, and a greenhouse. It was beautiful. It had also acted as her prison for as long as she could remember.
No more, though. She’d never allow anyone to lock her away again.
The decision she’d made tonight was the right one. Harley knew it in her soul. She allowed the conviction to settle over her and continued her survey.
Darkness covered the grounds she knew by heart. Nothing unusual grabbed her attention. She opened the car door and listened. Only the sounds of insects and the hoots of owls carried over the quiet of the night. She scanned the windows once more, and the tension drained from her muscles.
Her mother still slept.
Harley breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t get caught outside after dark. It was against the rules. She’d be barricaded in her room or sent to the basement.
A chill ran down her spine. She shoved away the memories of her youth before the recollections of solitary confinement took hold.
Part of her was tempted to just drive away, but she needed the stash of money she’d collected over the years if she expected to make it on her own. Besides, she wanted to leave a note for her brothers—telling them good-bye.
She slipped out of her car and took several steps across the lawn before a dull ache spread through her—familiar and unsettling. Harley pressed a balled fist to her chest, where the hollow feeling she experienced nightly flared, worse than she’d ever endured. She didn’t know what caused it or why it had gotten worse over the years. Her mom refused to take her to a doctor. A trip to the clinic would involve leaving the estate, and Harley wasn’t allowed around other people.
She had to stay at home where it was safe.
Anger rose and made the burning sensation worse. She wanted to hit something. The wall, her mother’s prized sculptures, their china—she didn’t care what as long as she left the world around her in chaotic shambles.
No. Harley breathed through the discomfort and pushed the violent thoughts away, exactly as she’d done all her life. Good girls weren’t supposed to act that way, and she was good, no matter what her mom said.
Harley took one more steadying breath, then made her way across the lawn. The thin piece of plastic she’d shoved between the sliding glass door and the doorframe still held her escape route open. With her lip caught between her teeth, she pushed the door and squeezed inside.
Heart pounding hard, she waited. Nobody came running or shouted accusations at her. She tiptoed across the room. The grandfather clock next to her chimed. Midnight. She jumped, a hand over her mouth to muffle her cry.
“Harley Marie! Where have you been?”
Shit, shit, shit. Harley turned and came face to face with the woman who ruled the house—supermodel, actress, and tyrant.
Harley flashed a hopefully innocent smile. “Hey, Mom. What are you doing up?”
“Where were you?”
At the livid glare stamped on her mom’s flawless features, Harley groaned. “I went to see a movie.”
“In town?”
Harley nodded.
“How did you get there?”
“I drove.”
Her mom’s eyes widened. “Drove? You don’t have a license.”
“No.” Harley sighed. “I don’t, but I borrowed one of the cars and taught myself.”
Curses fell from her mom’s mouth. She threw her arms up in the air. “You disobeyed me. Put yourself in danger. Why, Harley, why? You need to be a good girl. Can you—”
“I’m not a girl. I’m eighteen!” Her chest heaved. All her pent-up rage and resentment spilled over. “You keep me locked away in this prison, barely talk to me, and when you do it’s to reiterate your stupid rules! I’m sick of them. I’m
