262

~Carmen~

Zegulf’s idea of practicing better things turns out to be wringing every ounce of pleasure he can out of my poor body.

His hands and mouth explore me, mapping me out like new terrain. Discovering places that make me moan, squirm, and clutch at him without abandon.

No part of me is seemingly forbidden or sacred. Nothing is off limits or taboo. He explores me from the inside out, learning every spot that makes me whimper his name.

And when I think he’s discovered all my weaknesses, he finds a new one, using the bond between us against me.

There can be no lies or secrets when all he has to do is look inside me to know what I’m feeling. Even when his fingers delve into that forbidden place between my asscheeks, filling me up when he finally stuffs me with his cock...

He knows how much I like it. How much I like being so full of him, even if I don’t want to admit it.

By the time he finally takes mercy on me and tucks me close to his chest, I’m beyond tired. My eyes slam shut the second the sun begins to rise on the eastern horizon.

I can't tell how long I slept, but when I open my eyes, the sun is still up and Zegulf’s eyes are shut in a peaceful sleep.

I stare at him for a long time, silently urging him to wake up, to give me what I need. Deep inside me, there’s a craving that only he can sate. But he's deeply asleep.

Through our bond, I can feel his exhaustion after taking care of me for so long. Not having the heart to disturb him, I try to wait it out.

I try to sleep, but the gnawing emptiness has taken priority. There will be no more rest until I banish the ache.

Carefully, I extract myself from Zegulf’s hold without waking him and rise to my feet, pulling down the skimpy sleepwear he must have put on me while I slept.

Such a caring man

I suddenly feel something alive. Somewhere in this house is a very loud heart beating. It is so loud that it drowns out the others that I seem to notice now. The loud heartbeat is calling me to drink.

I didn’t hear it at first, but now that I do, it’s all I can hear.

I make my way toward the door, only to draw back in alarm when I get close to the handle. On the other side of the door, I can sense a presence; some unknown new instinct of mine activating without me realizing it.

There is someone on the other side of the door, standing guard, his heart is beating so calmly, so gently, as if it's rocking a rhythm.

Sadly, the heartbeat is not inviting me to eat. So it’s are not what I need.

Exploring this new instinct of mine, I frown. Aside from this one at the door, there are others... I can feel them now. Their hearts beat gently, and their auras are pulsing around me like humming vibrations, filling this house with their strength and powers.

Moving away from the door, I consider my options. I could crawl back into bed with Zegulf and wait for the sun to go down. However, the way my hunger is growing, I’m pretty sure I’d end up eating myself long before nightfall.

No, I need to find a way out of this room and go to the heart, I can hear beating loudly somewhere below me.

Spinning around in a slow circle, I search for another exit, but only see covered windows that lead outside and a connected, unused bathroom.

None of it will get me to the heartbeat.

There has to be another way. There has to be, my hunger screams at me. And I know there is, I can feel it. There’s a way if I only focus enough and concentrate. Acting on pure instinct, I take a step forward, and the world around me blurs.

I move faster than my mind can comprehend before finding myself in an entirely different room.

I take a deep breath, looking around while trying so hard to balance my staggering body.

The walls surrounding me now are made of rough, grainy concrete and there are no windows. It smells like earth, moisture, and old blood.

Someone lets out a pain-filled groan to my left. I turn my attention to the direction of the groan to see a man strapped down to a metal chair. Arms and legs secured with duct tape and restraints.

‘The owner of the heartbeat.’

I’m practically running toward the food that is calling to me.

‘I must eat.’

My fingers curl, wanting to turn into claws, and my gums ache, my mouth filling with saliva. I need a drink. 

The man bound to the chair lets out another pain-filled groan as I move toward him, his body shuddering against his restraints. Then he says something muffled by the duct tape over his mouth that sounds a lot like my name.

“Carmen.”

My step falters for a second, but I shake my head. The hunger must be playing tricks on me. Moving forward again, I instantly cover the rest of the distance between us, looking him over.

His clothing is torn and stained with old blood, with bruises scattered across his skin. His ankles are secured to the legs of the chair with metal cuffs, and duct tape has been wrapped around his legs, arms up to his elbows.

More duct tape and a chain have been wrapped around his middle.

Yet his neck has been left bare and exposed. He’s completely helpless and at my mercy.

“Carmen,” he moans again as I lean closer, smelling him.

He reeks not only of old blood but something foul and rotten. If he has an infection, his blood could make me sick. Leaning back, I weigh the risk. Seriously reconsidering drinking from him.

But then my stomach cramps, sending shivers of pain up my spine. I have no choice.

Damn the consequences.

Holding my breath, I open my mouth once more, ready to bite. Seeing his impending doom, the man screams behind his duct tape.

“Carmen!”

Closer to him now, it’s very clear he’s actually saying my name. It seems the bound man knows me.

Wrenching my gaze from the point of his carotid artery, I force myself to look at his face.

Then recognition strikes. Those eyes...

“Kennedy?” I exhale, allowing my lungs to work again.

The man bobs his head up and down, his hair so sticky and greasy it clings to his forehead.

My blood running cold with dread, I reach out, grab the end of the duct tape slapped over his mouth, and rip it off.

“Fuck,” Kennedy groans in pain.

With his entire face exposed now, I rock back on my heels like I was just struck in the chest.

“What are you doing here? Why are you here?” I ask, looking him over again and seeing him with new eyes.

They’ve been hurting him. They’ve been torturing him. Why?

“I’m here because I got caught by some shifters when I was trying to rescue you,” Kennedy answers before he moves his jaw from side to side as if he’s trying to work out a kink. “Don’t you remember?”

I start to shake my head, but stop, thinking back. All at once, the memories that have been locked up in a box, the memories of how I got here, under Zegulf’s thumb, are released.

I relive every moment as I remember it. The longing and hunger in the shower. Destroying my room. The phantom arms that comforted me. Zegulf, using Kennedy to get me out of my house. The promise.

“What have they been doing to you?” I growl, my fingers curling and wanting to turn into claws again.

Kennedy looks down at my hands, at my fingers, then his eyes jerk back up to my face, full of apprehension. His Adam’s apple bobs before he licks his lips and asks, “Can we talk about it later?”

I can’t tell if he’s afraid I’m going to hurt him or afraid I might react badly to whatever he has to say, so I nod my head.

With my hands going to the cuff on his left hand, I quickly undo it, then use my nails to slice into the tape wrapped around his arm. I almost have all the duct tape shredded when cold fingers wrap around my wrist to stop me.

“Luna, I don’t believe Alpha would approve,” someone tells me.