Cursed (The Order of the Wolf) (7 page)

Raven growled low and deep, his body shook with sudden anger. He wrenched her head to the side and she cried out, as he pressed his teeth to her neck, his fangs poking at her skin.

Oh fuck, what had she done?

Chapter Eleven

Raven could see nothing but rage. Uncontrollable jealousy at the thought of Darcy fucking other men. He’d been bluffing his way through their interaction, trying to sound cold and hard. The fine thread of control he’d maintained had snapped the moment she blasted him with her words.

I fucked every single one of them.

He would have her, mark her and she would be his forever. His fangs rested against her pulse, aching for a taste. His wolf howled.

Steel hands landed on his shoulders, a bellow of fury torn from his throat as he was ripped from his woman.

He spun and lashed out, his strong uppercut connecting with an equally strong jaw, but barely making his target move.

Jay’s eyes blazed. “You hitting a brother over that whore?”

“That’s my woman! Don’t call her a whore.” Raven’s anger propelled him forward with little thought, taking Jay down with a headbutt to the ribs, and keeping him down with jab after jab to the gut. Below him was not his pack-mate, below him was every other male Darcy had fucked. Jay raised his arms to block the incoming blows, but couldn’t deflect all the hits.

“You will not do this!” Mayhem roared, his arm around Raven’s neck, cutting his air supply, pulling him off the bloody mess that was Jay.

Raven grunted, struggled against the iron hold of his pack alpha, his fury blinding him. Mayhem drilled him in the side and squeezed his bicep tighter. Raven wheezed in his last breath.

“We do not fight one another,” Mayhem growled in his ear.

Reality finally registered and Raven deflated, his lungs screaming for air. He resisted the urge to fight and instead submitted.

Mayhem eased his hold a fraction. “You will not mate with this woman. She is not what you need.”

Raven’s mind fought against that statement. She was his woman. His wolf wanted to mate.

“No!”
Mayhem growled, against his ear once again. “No, you will not mate with this woman because the second you do is the second you are no longer part of my pack.”

Raven’s wolf heard the truth behind those words. Mayhem would oust him. His wolf retreated, pacing silently back, giving Raven control once again. He calmed his breathing, pulling in slow deep lungfuls of air as Mayhem released his grip a fraction more.

“You got your shit under control, man?”

Raven nodded as best he could with a huge fucking arm pressed against his throat.

“You lose your shit again and I’ll lock you up.”

Mayhem let him go and he stumbled forward, his hands on his knees, his body doubled-over he sucked in more and more air.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for these two to be alone.” Dy helped Jay up from the floor.

Jay grunted his thanks as he wiped blood from his face with his sleeve. “Yeah. What the fuck, man?”

Raven shook his head as he forced himself to stand. “I don’t know.” He cut Darcy a hard look. “She’s got my wolf bewitched.”

She glared back at him, one hand covering her throat. He felt a pang of remorse. It had been a close one. He’d been seconds away from binding her to his wolf. Unlike her magic, that shit was totally irreversible and she had it right—she wasn’t his mate, she would loathe that bond and his wolf would suffer for it.

“I don’t think he can handle being alone with her,” Jay growled as he accepted a towel from Dy and placed it over the cut on his cheek. “If he bites that bitch…”

Raven growled and Mayhem snapped a hard look his way, a finger raised in warning. “Lock it down, Rav.”

Raven sucked in a deep breath, pushing his wolf back again.

“There’s no other way.” Mayhem shook his head. “The witch was adamant. He goes alone or no deal.”

“It’s a short trip, one night and we’re there. Don’t worry. I’ve got it under control. I just can’t touch her.”

Jay snorted. “Yeah, don’t touch her. Great plan.”

“You two leave now, you’ll make it into the state by the morning. Come daylight, separate hotel rooms, doors locked and barred. I don’t trust your wolf not to stake its claim on her.” Mayhem nodded. “We’re leaving on a flight at dusk tomorrow. You’ll meet us at the next venue, free of this situation.”

“I’ve got it under control,” Raven said.

“And you…” Mayhem turned to Darcy. “Better keep your mind off of sex. You rile his beast up and you’ll regret what will happen. Trust me on that one.”

Darcy gulped, her eyes wide, her hand still covering her neck. “I didn’t do anything…” She choked on her next words, Mayhem’s glare working on her just as it worked on his pack.

“Get on the road. Now,” Mayhem barked.

“The witch said we needed to be there tomorrow night. Why not sleep for a few hours, head out tomorrow?” Darcy said, mistrust edging her words.

“You’ll leave tonight,” Mayhem growled as he exited the room.

“There’s no way we’re going to make it before daybreak. It’s in the next state.” Darcy said, her brow bunched into a frown, exhaustion clear on her face. “Unless your wolf can drive…I’m too wiped out to get behind the wheel.”

Raven knew enough not to argue a direct order from his alpha. He was walking a fine line with the pack. She’d turned his world into a chaotic mess for one night of pleasure. He’d be damned if he let her destroy his life completely.

“We leave in five. Get your shit.” He growled as he stormed out of the room, fighting with every ounce of strength to move away instead of toward the cursed woman.

She is not your mate. She is not your mate.

Yeah…someone needed to tell his fucking wolf that.

Chapter Twelve

Darcy hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. She’d been running on adrenaline from the moment she first saw Raven. Sex, fear, lust, terror…didn’t seem to matter the source, she’d been revved up the entire time. As she settled into the soft leather seat of Raven’s rented SUV, she couldn’t help but feel like she was melting into it. Her body was so weary, her eyelids heavy and yet her brain wouldn’t stop running, millions of thoughts keeping her from completely shutting down. They’d been driving for an hour already and she’d hoped the lull of the car’s movement would send her into dreamland, but instead the endless road just made her think more.

Too many thoughts crowded her brain, battling for consideration. Raven and her feelings for him were easily dealt with. Must have been some kind of weird byproduct of the curse. Nothing more than that. She’d never stuck around her target long enough to see the results or experience any side-effects. All the same, she needed to get this curse lifted, free herself from Raven’s thrall and then figure out a way to right the wrongs she’d committed. If it was possible.

How many men had she done this to? At least a dozen, maybe more. She needed to know how long a cursed man usually had—days, months, years—before he succumbed to it. How much blood was on her hands? Her heart was heavy with guilt. That witch, Kat, was right. She shouldn’t have been meddling in something she didn’t understand. As much as she would love to blame Annie for not teaching her properly, she couldn’t. This was her own fault and no one else’s. She needed to fix it.

Darcy sighed as she rubbed her hand over her face, brushing her hair back to tuck behind her ear. Raven hadn’t said a word to her since they left the hotel. His shoulders were set, muscles bunched up, fingers tightly curled on the steering wheel and eyes staring straight ahead. Five hours ’til daybreak. Five hours of hellish silence, driving at breakneck speed. Werewolves, it seemed, didn’t give a damn about speed limits.

“I didn’t intend for this to happen.” All anger and defiance she’d felt before was gone. She hated the silence, gave her too much time to dwell on what a shitty person she was.

Raven snorted but didn’t take his eyes off the road ahead. “Didn’t intend for what to happen? To curse an innocent man to lust for you? You didn’t intend the agony that accompanies that kind of desire?” He snorted again, his lips curling into a sneer. “It’s called a curse for a reason, sweetheart.”

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be. I just want you to know that I didn’t think—”

“No,” he barked, snapping his gaze in her direction. “You didn’t think about anyone but yourself. Maybe your clients. But definitely not the men you were cursing. Vengeance Dealer…fuck…” He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a card, then whipped it at her so that it smacked her shoulder and fell to her lap.

She glanced down, recognized the black glossy card for what it was.

“I found this when I searched your bag earlier. Darcy Wells, Vengeance Dealer, Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned.” He scoffed. “What was this to you? A game? What happened, sweets, someone break your precious heart way back when and all of a sudden you decide to take it out on the rest of us?”

She cringed, picked up the card and ran her thumb over the words he’d recited. “Yeah, something like that.” He had the truth of it and her heart ached all the more. She’d known the pain of betrayal, rejection burning so hot that she wanted to kill herself. She knew that agony and it had driven her to this—a romanticized retribution for every woman. It had felt good to lash out. It had given her the power she needed to get over her own hurt. But now facing the reality of what she’d done, she knew it had all been a selfishly driven, desperate attempt to regain her pride. She’d always thought she was repairing the broken Darcy by seeking vengeance for others, but really she’d only managed to find an outlet—a
misdirected
outlet for her own anger. No matter how she’d justified it in the past, she couldn’t justify it now.

“I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah, but are you only sorry because you got caught?” He growled when she opened her mouth to argue. “Keep it to yourself, sweets, I’m not interested.”

And so the silence resumed, except now the anger and hate was amplified and contained within the small space of the truck. No music to drown it out, no conversation to distract, nothing but the long stretch of road ahead and a three hundred pound werewolf behind the wheel. Lovely.

They stopped for an uncomfortable late night dinner break and made it to the next state by five-thirty, just enough time to arrive at the rendezvous hotel. After getting the rooms, Raven drove the truck around back, pulled into a spot in front of the hotel and killed the engine.

“We’re in these rooms.” He tossed the key to her. “Adjoining. Don’t even think about bolting. My wolf doesn’t need sleep. You even touch the doorknob and we’ll come through the wall if we have to.”

Darcy gulped and nodded, scooping up the key and her duffle bag from the floor. “I’m too exhausted to run.” And that was only half the truth of it. He might not believe her, but she was sorry and she wanted to right this wrong. Even though she threatened to earlier, she wouldn’t leave him, not until she saw this through.

The next half an hour was a haze of showering, putting on a T-shirt to sleep in and curling up under the stiff, bleachy smelling sheets. Her last thought came as the sun poked a tiny ray through the crack in her drapes and she heard a muffled growl through the wall.
I hope they allow dogs in here.
She snickered quietly, then gave in to blissful sleep.

What felt like minutes later, she jolted awake. She was not alone. She bolted upright. The weight of something huge on her mattress made her tumble forward until she smacked her face against something hard and coarse hair abraded her cheek. She pulled back to see two bright golden eyes glaring at her in the semi-darkness. Her fuzzy brain misfired as she pushed herself back. The golden eyes narrowed and two white fangs gleamed as a low growl rumbled, vibrating the bed. She raised a hand to her mouth and screamed.

Chapter Thirteen

His wolf was in control, after hour upon hour of her scent drifting under the door into his room, rational thought finally slipped away. He’d forced the door open and leapt to her bed as the last ounce of restraint left him.

She’d muffled her scream, clamping her hand to her mouth, eyes wide, body shaking. He breathed her in. Fear…arousal…
mine
.

When she scrambled from the bed, he followed her, jumping down gracefully and stalking slowly. She pressed herself against the wall as she inched toward the bathroom.

He liked to chase, wanted her to run, so he bared his fangs and gave a low, guttural growl. She froze, hands pressed flat against the wall, eyes darting from one door to the next. Three possible exits. He growled again and made as if he was going to lunge. That got her moving.

She darted right, then quickly doubled back, over the bed and headed for the door. He bolted after her, over the bed in one leap and beat her there, blocking that exit and baring his fangs. With a squeal, she skidded to a stop, spun and ran the other way, and headed for the adjoining door. He caught up quickly, nipped her ankle so she stumbled. She came to a stop against the wall once again, her body half turned.

Overcome with excitement, he sucked in deep breaths, her scent filling his muzzle so richly he could almost taste her. He remembered that smell. He ran his nose along the contour of her leg, barely touching. He liked the goose bumps that rose and the hitch in her breathing as he nudged under the shirt that fell to her upper thigh. Her scent was intoxicating. He darted out his tongue, and her taste was exactly as he remembered. His wolf was not mistaken. This was his woman.