Abandoning my search, I head back into the bedroom and to the door opposite the closet. Inside is a bathroom which is smaller than I expect, with only a shower above the corner tub, and a single wash basin which has a mirror hanging above it.
When I glance at my reflection, I gasp. My hair is a mess, and tears have distorted my perfectly made-up face. I quickly open the tap and splash my face. I grab the bar of soap sitting in its dish and lather up my hands before scrubbing my palms over my cheeks and my closed eyes.
By the time I’m done, I look refreshed, and my hair looks partly normal with just using my fingers to run through the unruly strands. I step back and consider changing my clothes. Maybe even showering. But I’m not sure when Darius is going to come back, and if he does, I don’t want him to find me naked.
The thought of him knowing about my needs, my desires, and knowing about what Lycan and I have done makes me nervous. Yes, I’ve found solace in the way Lycan would pin me down, in the way he’d push inside me, force himself on top of me, it made me come harder than I ever have. Even just the memory seems to cause the burn on my cheeks and my stomach to twist with need.
I recall the first time I read about it. I’d picked up a novel, wanting to get lost in the wispy romance, but in the end, it was the darkness that enveloped me, and I was lost to the depraved acts. Reading about how the woman enjoyed being out of control, how she loved having the heaviness of her partner pinning her down, I found myself entranced.
When I did finally have sex, it wasn’t even close to what I’d fantasized about. I thought I was broken, that I couldn’t orgasm, no matter how many times I had been with Bryden, my ex from college. He was sweet, gentle, and as much as I wanted to enjoy it, my needs ran darker.
My mind played out the scenarios I read about. And only then could I find my release. And now Darius knows about those cravings as well.
Back in the bedroom, I settle on the mattress and curl up, leaning my head on the soft pillows. The comfortable mattress makes me sigh. My eyes flutter as weariness overtakes me.
“Don’t go into the garden at night.” A warning. A threat.
Eyes follow me as I meander through the house. I can feel them, but I can’t see them. Someone is out there. Perhaps that’s why my father told me not to go out at night when I was little. This house has been haunted for a long time. I read stories about the old Bardot mansion, but I never truly realized just how eerie it is.
As a little girl, I was convinced nothing could touch me. My father was my hero, big and scary, and I believed he would save me from the darkness. But now, as I walk through the halls, I’m certain he would allow me to be stolen if he could save himself.
I’ve learned the man I always thought a hero is nothing more than a selfish bastard.
That’s what my mother called him, anyway.
The fighting started more the older I got. I’m not sure why. Every night, Dad would be out with friends, he’d come home drunk, and he and Mom would be at each other’s throats. Now, at sixteen, I’ve learned to focus on me, not them.
The fear that trickled through me the first night I heard them is now gone. I’ve since learned adults aren’t perfect, even though they expect children to be. My father is nothing short of a bully, but my mother isn’t any better.
She wants to be seen as perfect.
But she hides a series of secrets that I’m certain would hurt our whole family.
It’s no secret she’s not faithful to Dad. I overheard her on her cellphone a few times, talking to someone. A stranger. But I never can tell who it is. Perhaps one day I should steal her phone and try to figure out who she’s talking to. Maybe then I can fix our family.
When I open the porch door, I feel it, warmth cascading over my body. The nightdress I’m wearing is tiny, hitting me under the butt, and barely covering my chest. The sleeveless material offers no comfort, but it’s too hot to wear anything else.
I look out over the garden, trying to adjust my vision to the black that greets me. For a moment, I’m sure I see a figure moving in the trees, but as soon as it appeared, it’s gone in the next second, and a cold shiver grips me as it slowly travels from the back of my neck to the base of my spine.
“The wolf and the hunter will always find you, little red,” a voice comes from the darkness, causing me to yelp in surprise. And that’s when the thick fingers wrap around my neck and hold me in place.
“No! No!” My eyes snap open and I find luminous green staring back at me. Darius smirks as he hovers over my thrashing body.
“Boo,” he murmurs along my mouth, the warmth of his breath fanning over my face, and I attempt to lift my knee to kick him in the crotch, but he’s fast, grabbing my leg before I can make any contact.
“Get off me!”
He obeys without taunting. “What were you dreaming about?” he asks as he moves a tray from the desk to the bed. He sets it down, and I take in the mug of coffee, and a plate of toast with cheese melting
