Tempting Darkness(Darkness Series)

Chapter 6

I don't know what time it is when the door opens again, but I cringe when it does. Fear courses through me, making my eyes dart to it. I am worried Darius has returned to inflict more injury on me. My leg needs to be set back into place, and I need a doctor. Without my mates, I cannot fix it myself with one hand, and I doubt I could, anyway. My pain threshold isn’t the highest.

Relief floods me when I realize it isn’t him. It is my usual morning visitor and also the person responsible for snitching on me. He walks in, and I watch him as he tosses the water bottle through the bars. It lands at my feet and bumps my foot. Staring down at my busted leg, I don’t feel it. At this point, I don't care as long as it remains numb. I'm unsure if that is good because I am not in pain anymore. Or if I should be worried about the loss of feeling in a limb required to walk. Not that I will be doing much walking, but I am struggling to hold my head up at the moment.

“Aleera, please just—” He stops, his eyes going to the odd angle of my leg and my blood that has frozen on the floor beneath it. His eyes move to mine, then go to the hand that is still held to my chest. I know how gross it looks; my fingers are swollen and black, and they still hurt. The agony has been intolerable, and I had the worst sleep last night until everything went numb. I thought it might be the freezing cold temperature down here, but now I wonder if it’s because I have grown used to the aching throb, and I’ve managed to tune it out. My leg is completely numb, and I pray it doesn’t mean something terrible, yet I also pray it stays that way.

The man kneels, gripping the bars as he peers in at me. “Darius did that?” he questions, his words barely more than a whisper, and I just look away from him. He appears shocked, which confuses me. Does he not realize what a monster Darius Wraith is? Why he thought better of him is beyond me. All the rumors about his cruelty have turned out to be accurate, and to think that I’d tried to convince myself over the years that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Perhaps I could get past him killing my parents. Thankfully, I never gave in to the hopelessness of living out there and surviving day to day. If I had, I would have been here over four days, and if this is what four days brings me, just what am I truly in store for? And can I survive it? My future looks bleak right now, and I don’t see things getting any better. If this is our greeting point, what would be his tipping point if I angered him further?

The door swings open and bangs on the bars, making me jump. I look over at the man, and he hesitantly steps inside, glancing back at the door like he is expecting Darius to come storming in to finish what he started. He curses but hesitates for a few seconds more before swiftly walking over to me with his eyes trained on me like he thinks I will do something. He glances at the door behind him once more, and I watch as he crouches beside me.

I watch his Adam’s apple pop in his throat as his hands shake while reaching for my pants leg. He rolls my pant leg up, and he inhales deeply. His eyes dart to me daringly like he is expecting me to cry out at the movement of my leg, but I feel nothing, not even when I watch his hands move toward my leg where the bone is poking out of my skin.

“What are you doing?” I murmur; my lips are so dry and cracked they’re bleeding, and just talking makes the delicate skin tear.

“I can’t leave you like this,” he mutters. He almost looks guilty, like he is the one who’d done this to me.

“Why do you care?” I mutter, looking away from him.

“Because you don’t just belong to him,” he says, and my head whips back to look at him.

“You still haven’t figured it out, have you? Do you know who I am?” he asks, then I feel his hands grab my leg. My skin buzzes and vibrates, making me gasp when I feel the sparks that you receive from a mate.

“Lycus!” I whisper, and he nods once but doesn’t take his eyes off my leg when I hear it crack as he forces it back in place. The instant he does, I scream again. I want the numbness back, and I want the tortuous pain to stop. Is this why he’s here to inflict more pain? So much for being numb.

His hand clamps down over my mouth, hard in a bruising grip, while his head turns to look at the door, which I notice is wide open. He looks back at me when no one comes down. “I remove my hand, and you scream. You’ll give me no choice but to knock you out.” he says as tears run down my cheeks. He slowly removes his hand, and I try to catch my breath.

“Quiet, they are in the mess hall,” he says while examining my leg, prodding it, and I hiss each time he does.

“Mess hall?” I ask anything to distract me from the pain coursing through me.

Lycus nods but doesn’t explain further or offer any explanation as to where we are. He returns his hands to my leg, and I flinch as his hand squeezes my leg, searching for something. I have no idea, but it bloody hurts as he continues to prod and squeeze. Satisfied with whatever it is looking for, he lifts his gaze, reaching for my hand that is tucked against my chest. He turns my wrist, examining it, but no bones are jutting out.

I watch as his eyes turn silver, and his canines slip out. He bites into his wrist and offers it to me. I just stare at him, blinking at him. Then a thought hits me. I could siphon his magic and knock him out before he’d even notice; this may be my one chance to escape.

“Hurry, it will heal you! Were-fae!” he says, pointing at himself like he thinks I can’t tell what variant he is. I am glad I have no magic right now because, with my pain, I know I wouldn’t keep it contained to shield him from what I am. I need them to believe I am a dark fae, like the rest of the world. Being different in this world gets you killed or turned into a guinea pig. Either way, you end up the same, dead.

“I know what you are,” I tell him.

“Are you sure? Because you didn’t recognize me or feel I was your mate,” he snaps.

“I felt it when you touched me,” I mutter.

“Yes, but you have no magic left, or I would sense it. We all would. Nevertheless, I still would have thought you would have some inkling about who I am to you.” He sounds almost upset. I don’t recognize him, or maybe through the pain, I’m imagining it.

“Well, sorry if I’m a bit power-drained right now, and it’s not like I see your face splashed all over papers and the media,” I say defensively.

“Having no power is your fault. Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you because I don’t,” he growls, his eyes darkening back to their pitch-black color. “Kalen and I don’t enjoy leaving the castle,” he finally states, but my brain is still stuck on the word “castle.” Does he mean like an actual castle from fairy tales? Do those still exist? Am I in a dungeon of sorts? That explains the weird-ass shackles on the walls. I thought maybe they were some twisted Halloween decoration, or perhaps they were into b**m, but now I look at them differently. I wonder briefly how many people have been strung up by them. And how many more have died down here?

“Aleera, hurry before I heal,” he snarls, which quickly turns to a groan, and I turn my gaze to his wrist, which is closing up before my eyes. His eyes turn silver again, his canines sinking into his wrist. He tears the flesh away, which makes me pull a face. All the while, he doesn’t even flinch. Oh, how I wish I had his pain threshold.

Right back to escaping. Blood to heal, then siphon, and run like my ass is on fire. I can do this. I hope it won't hurt him, though. I know I shouldn’t care, but I don’t want to hurt him. Now that I recognize him, the pull to his power and him is growing stronger—stupid mate bond. And couldn’t the fates have made them as ugly as their shitty personalities? Seriously, they get to be sick, depraved assholes and get godlike looks. How is that fair?

Grabbing his wrist with my good hand, he flinches, and I have a strange feeling he is fighting the urge to pull away from me. Like my touch repulses him. Judging by the look on his face and the way he clenches his teeth, I am right. It’s that very second I realize he isn’t healing me because he wants to, but because he feels guilty for telling Darius I wasn’t eating. For some reason, that stings a little, stings the barely existent bond that pangs in my chest. It isn’t because he wants to help me. It's so he can sleep better at night, soothing his guilt.

Anger courses through me, and he looks away as I press my lips to his wrist, letting his blood flow into my mouth. My tongue tingles as his blood floods my mouth and I can feel how potent his magic is in his blood. My bond flares to life, wanting its mate, wanting his power, and my wounds tingle as I heal. Yet Lycus growls at me, glaring at the floor, ignoring me, ignoring my bond calling on his. It’s stupid how power calls out for power and here mine is wanting anything, just a sliver of recognition from a man I barely know, who can’t even stand to look at me.

“Hurry up!” he growls harshly.

His words anger me, anger my bond that creeps below the surface, tugging at my soul for so long dormant I forgot the feeling of it. Healing quickly, I wiggle my fingers when a surge rushes through me, and I grab him with both hands and pull. No, that is the wrong word for it. It is like turning on a vacuum, and I feel his magic blast into me. The more I take, the higher chance he will notice, so containing the urge to steal it all is hard.

I wiggle my toes and I let his wrist go. He wipes his wrist, cleaning my saliva off with his shirt, but I don’t waste any time. While he cleans his wrist, I lift my foot and kick him straight in his pretty face with every ounce of strength I have. I hope I haven’t damaged it. The shock would have been my only element of surprise, and I jump up as he falls backward. Not expecting it, he clutches his nose, which now sprays out blood.

But I don’t have time to feel bad when I blast him with the magic I’d just stolen from him, which isn’t much, just enough to shove him backward with enough force; he smacks into the metal bars, and the impact knocks him out.

His face falls slack, and his shoulders slouch. I hesitate, feeling guilty I hurt him, but that wears off quickly as I look to the open door and my escape route.

Running, I take the steps two at a time. Once I make it through the door and reach the top, I find another door and push it open slightly, peering out. Blinking, I am taken aback by the fact the place is indeed something out of fairy tales. It is a castle with high ceilings, enormous chandeliers, massive staircases, and… is that a ballroom?

Oh, no, that is the mess hall. But it must have been a ballroom, judging by its sheer size. It has a very modern look for a castle; one of them has good taste.

Pushing the door open, I can see a vast corridor across from me, but that means running across to hide at the base of the stairs. Which also means running past the wide-open double doors to the mess hall. From where I am standing, I can see men seated at the long tables, making me wonder if I will go unnoticed—only one way to find out. So I take off and run like crazy.

The screeching of chairs alerts me that I did not go unnoticed, and a fierce growl echoes off the walls. Still, I try racing toward the double arched doors at the end of the long corridor.

This place is a maze, with corridors leading everywhere. But I have no time to explore while I race toward what I hope is an exit, praying the doors lead outside to freedom.

However, my blood runs cold when Darius suddenly materializes out of thin air, and my feet screech on the floor. He appears in front of the very doors I intend to run out of. I am forced to stop and back up a step. Turning, I run in the direction I’ve just come from when I spot Tobias behind me. He snarls at me with a menacing look on his face, and I see his hand whip toward my face a second too late.

It takes another second to register what is happening as darkness swallows my vision. Tobias punched me. He knocked me out, I think, as pain slivers up the side of my face. Though I shouldn’t be surprised, he is exactly like Darius. Darkness engulfs me, and I beg the fates not to let me wake back up this time.