“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.