Chapter 30

Zander

My shackles were off when I woke the next morning. William must have freed me before he left. I'd been too exhausted from the night before to notice. Turning my head, I glanced at the silhouette of Piper on my bed. I sighed in relief, knowing I hadn't scared her away after marking her.

My wolf was peaceful, his silent calmness settled well in my bones, and made me feel more like myself than I had in ages. Standing up, I glanced down at her sleeping body. The sheets from my bed were wrapped around her waist, her breasts uncovered, and her mark on display.

The sight of it stirred my wolf from his slumber.

It was beautiful.

Everything about it.

The smooth curve of the crescent moon, the bright stars above it, and the shadow of a light blue sky. It stood out against her porcelain skin and begged to be touched.

I ached to sleep with her, next to her, and I'd do anything to break this curse and spend an entire night burying myself in between her sweet thighs.

Dragging my eyes away from her mark, I skimmed down the curve of her hip where the light bruises from my fingertips sat.

A smile tugged at my mouth.

I loved leaving pieces of what happened against her skin like a canvas.

It was proof that it was real, not that I needed reminding, but it was my own personal painting. She stirred, and her eyes fluttered open slowly. She stretched, and her gaze moved over to mine. "Good morning."

Piper watched as I bent over and kissed the side of her jaw. She stopped, realization washed over her face, and she shoved passed me. I chuckled as she ran naked to my bathroom.

She stood in front of the sink, her fingertips against her neck, and a look of amazement on her face as she stared at herself in the mirror. I didn't see any tattoos on her skin, so I briefly wondered if she'd ever planned to get one.

Her hazel gaze met mine in her reflection. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

"You like it?"

"I do," she said, turning around to face me.

Walking toward her, I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tipped her face upward. "You're officially mine now, Little One."

She grinned. "You think so, hmm?"

Her body shivered when I ran the pad of my thumb over the sensitive skin. "I do."

Lifting to her tip-toes, she pressed a teasing kiss to my lips. "Maybe you can show me how much you own me later."

Looping my arm around her waist, I holstered her up to my hips and carried her toward my door. She shrieked and grabbed the doorjamb as we passed, hanging on for dear life. "I'm naked," she said as if I didn't notice her tits in my face.

"Good observation skills."

"Funny," she said, her fingers slipping as I tugged.

"I don't want your brother or Vivian to see me like this. I'm confident and all but I'm a little sensitive about these thighs—,"

I laughed and tugged her roughly until she let go, and glared down at me. Her lips were still puffy from our night together, and her hair a wild mess.

Everything about it sang to me.

"They are giving us alone time. They both went to see the pack for a few days. It's our honeymoon, Little One."

Her mouth curved into an O, and she shimmed down to the ground. "In that case," she said, reaching out and playfully pinching my nipple. The simple touch melted my blood to lava.

Laughter spilled from me when she raced down the staircase to the kitchen.

The boy inside of me relived all the dreams I had of finding my mate and acting just as she was acting. Like children. Well, until it was time to strip her naked and break in every room in the house.

Which I planned to do today. Over, and over again, until she begged me to stop. We had the entire day without fear of the beast breaking free.

Piper poured herself a cup of coffee that Vivian left for us, amongst an array of breakfast foods sitting out on the island, and the casseroles lining the fridge ready for us to warm up, when I lazily made my way down to the kitchen.

"Vivian really outdid herself," she said, snagging a chocolate-covered strawberry from the tray of fruit.

I slid in behind her, my hand trailing over the curve of her ass, and up to her hair, twisting it into my fist. A low moan left her mouth, and she arched her back against me. "I want to feed those to you," I whispered into her ear.

She playfully dropped the strawberry and waited for me to do it.

I smiled, and turned her, lifting the strawberry to her lips, she sucked it into her mouth. "That's yummy," she said, moving her fingertips against my back, she stalled on the scars crisscrossed against my flesh.

Something flashed over her face, and she quickly averted her attention to her coffee. I waited until she finished her drink, and put her coffee down. "What's the matter?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said nonchalantly, still not meeting my gaze.

"Liar."

She pressed her mouth into a thin line, and grabbed a strawberry from behind her, lifting it to my mouth. Swiftly, I took the entire thing into my mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. "Impressive speed, Zander. You could win an eating contest, for sure—,"

"Tell me," I said.

She sighed, and her eyes turned toward my bare chest where she started drawing circles with her fingers. "I had a dream."

"Was it to be trapped in a house with a beast? Because, I hate to break it to you, but that's not a dream, it's your reality."

She smiled, while keeping her head down, she lifted her gaze toward me. "It was of the woman that cursed you."

All the heat in my body turned ice cold.

She dreamed of the voodoo queen.

Clearing my throat, trying to desperately keep my voice unaffected, I asked, "When?"

"A couple of nights ago."

"You didn't tell me?"

"No," she whispered. "I wasn't sure if it was even real, or that you would want to talk about it. Did they whip you?"

Memories punched at my mind.

The remembrance of the agony.

The numbing pain of the whips.

But none of it hurt as badly as her coming to Piper in a dream. "What else happened?"

She leaned back with her palms behind her, while I stood still. "She said something to me in creole."

The knife in my stomach twisted, dragging my insides along with it. "What did she say?"

Piper rested her palm against my jaw, worry pulled at the corners of her face. "Are you okay? You look paler than normal, and sweetie, with your lack of sun, that's bad—,"

"Tell me," I said, my voice harsh and filled with an unspoken need.

Piper sighed exasperatedly. "She said, ‘Welcome to hell, Little One'."

My wolf's anger pulsed inside of me, cramming every ounce of despair from him, and into me. It caused a deafening ringing in my ears, and for me to briefly lose control of my entire body.

I stepped backward, crashing into the cabinets, taking the containers down with me. My wolf grew more irate, dominating my movements, and drowning me in sorrow. That small dream was only the tip of the iceberg.

She'd do anything to stop us from breaking the curse.

She promised that I would be the beast forever. That no one would ever love me, and after she told Piper what I did, I knew that was true.

I couldn't stop her.

We couldn't even find her.

She was everywhere and nowhere.

Soft hands touched my forearms, and a jolt of calm leaked into my veins, putting a stop to the madness I created. Piper slid her palms up my forearms and rested them on my face. "Zander," she whispered. "You're scaring me, calm down."

I leaned back against the counter, my fingertips curled around the edge of the granite. "I'm sorry. My wolf—he's pissed."

She nodded and stepped back to look up at me. "You think the dream was real?"

"That depends on what happened in the dream."

Sadness pulled at her face. "I was in a field. I went into the woods, and I saw you tied to a stake, and they were ...beating you. I tried to hide, but she knew I was there. Is that how you got those scars? It looked like a ritual. There was smoke, and then ... you."

"Yes," I admitted. "She was showing you what happened."

Piper swallowed. "Who was the little boy I saw in the bayou the night I tried to run? What does he have to do with this? Or is it the norm for a ghost to lurk around in the waters?"

Closing my eyes, a single tear traveled down my cheek. It felt foreign, and the aftermath felt like acid on my skin. I'd been reprimanded for crying growing up, and there was a time in my life that I thought my tears had run dry.

But now I had something—someone—to lose.

"It's her son," I said, my voice far away. "Priscilla's son," I whispered softly. I hadn't let her name come off my tongue since that night. "He's the reason for all of this."