Chapter 6

‘Will you quit complaining? I'm getting a fucking headache, Archie.'

I recognise Shaw's voice through the haze of unconsciousness.

‘You try having mud witch stuck in your teeth,' Archie grumbles. ‘It's gross. They taste like shit.'

‘Have much experience eating shit, Arch?' Dorian replies dryly.

‘No more than you, Dorian.'

I hear their distant laughter through the haze of my semiconsciousness and feel them handling my unresponsive body.

I think I'm in someone's arms, but I can't open my eyes or move to be sure. Their footsteps echo all around me as if we're surrounded by stone. Someone opens a heavy door, and after a moment, I'm thrown onto something soft.

I try to open my eyes. My lashes flutter a little, and I make out three extremely blurred figures standing around me.

‘She supposed to be waking up yet?' I hear Archie ask, making out how he picks at his teeth. His head is cocked to the side before he leans down close to offer me an enormous smile. ‘Keen to meet us properly, are ya, Pixie?'

‘F-f-f-fuck you…' My response comes out as an exhausted groan.

They all laugh.

I desperately try to rejoin the world. To get control back over my body. To run or fight. Anything but lie here limp and helpless.

There's a light knock on the door.

‘My Lords,' a delicate voice greets in a low, polite tone. ‘Is there anything you require?'

‘Yes. Prep a bath,' Shaw orders.

‘Yes, My Lord,' she replies, followed by her soft footsteps leaving.

‘Bathing her, Ronan? Awww. That's sweet,' Archie teases. ‘Gonna braid her hair too?'

‘All I can smell is her blood. It's distracting me,' Shaw retorts.

‘I don't mind the smell,' Archie replies.

‘Neither do I. That's the fucking problem. I can't decide if I want to drink her dry or go back there and finish off the bastards you left alive for spilling a single drop of her blood. She's smothered in cuts, and I'm pretty sure they've broken her eye socket as well. You were supposed to get to them before they could cause too much damage.'

‘I got there as fast as I was able and killed as many as I could, Ronan,' he argues, clearly offended. ‘I'll be shitting mud witch for a week. I'm just glad I got there before Cole's old man pushed that damn moon dagger up her pussy.'

‘Sorry… what did you just say?' Dorian asks. ‘He did what?'

‘Yeah. He had the tip in there. Another second, and she'd have lost her virginity to steel. That would have been one hell of a shame.'

There's a crash like a drawer slamming shut.

‘You okay, Shaw?' Dorian asks tentatively.

‘There's nothing in here that will fit her,' Shaw snaps. ‘She's too fucking skinny for any of these stupid dresses. Did those mud witches not feed her or something? I hate skinny females.'

I feel the mattress droop and manage to open my eyes just enough to see Archie's boyish smile looking down at me. He reaches over and sweeps my mattered hair aside.

‘We'll fatten her up. She'll need to gain her strength if she's going to survive us.' His fingers trail down and follow the harsh line of my collarbone. ‘She's cute as fuck, don't you think?'

I manage to lift my arm and attempt to swat his hand away. This only makes him laugh.

‘She's a feisty little thing,' Dorian adds as he stands by my head. His hands are in his pockets as he looks me up and down.

‘Feisty?' Archie laughs. ‘She stood over her fiancé's father's dying body and pissed on him. She didn't look away from Cole as she did it, either. Like full-on staring and just… pissing.' His hand grips mine as I try to push him away pathetically, and he carries on, chuckling to himself. ‘Feisty may be putting it lightly. I'm looking forward to seeing more.'

‘More of her pissing?' Dorian snorts.

‘I mean… if it's on her enemies, then why not?'

‘Because we may very well be her enemies now, Arch.'

‘Nah. Cole and his mud witches are on her list for sure. And her father, wherever that fucker went.'

‘Cole's still alive then?' Shaw asks.

‘What she left of him, I think so. Looked like she boiled his blood from the inside. His face was glowing like the embers of a fire.' Archie laughs. ‘It was one of the many highlights of the evening.'

‘I hate that little prick,' Dorian mutters. ‘Why didn't you tear his head off as well?'

‘I tell you what, Dorian. Next time we break through a coven's protection shields during their most sacred ritual, where they all gather to increase their powers, you can shift into a wolf and face them alone as I hide in the trees. Oh, wait. You can't because all you can do is fuck about with dolls and creepy arse shadows, so wind your neck in, and both of you quit telling me what I should or should not have done. We wanted the blood witch.' He gestures to me. ‘I got you the fucking blood witch. I am so sorry I only killed a dozen or so witches… alone… and all you had to do was bite her and feel her up.'

‘Tetchy, tetchy, Arch.'

‘Punchy facey, Dorian.' He lets out a belch. ‘Don't mess with me right now. I've got a stomach ache.'

‘Okay,' Shaw interjects. ‘You did great, Arch. No one is saying that you didn't.'

‘Sounds like someone is to me,' he mutters, glaring at Dorian.

‘I'm not,' Dorian insists. ‘You did good.' He folds his arms across his chest and nods at me, still on the bed. ‘They're gonna come for her. After what she did, they're going to want revenge. Never mind the fact she took their bloody Grimoire. They'll want it back, and legally, they have a right to it. '

‘All the covens know is that a wolf attacked them. They'll assume she's dead or that she managed to escape. They have no idea we were there, and they would never suspect us, of all people, to keep hold of her.'

‘You think they'll tell the humans about her?' Archie asks. ‘If nothing else, to get the Grimoire back?'

Shaw scoffs. ‘Only if they want to be killed themselves. If the humans discover the mud witches made a blood witch, the human king won't hesitate to destroy them. The mud witches are still alive because they swore it was impossible to make another blood witch in their coven, and they help the villagers grow crops all year round. Her coven won't want this getting out. They'll attempt to deal with it themselves on the quiet. If they find out we have her and their grimoire, I'll expect assassins in the night. Thieves in the halls. Not an army or a war.'

‘They are not… my coven…' I slur, still trying to roll over and get myself moving. ‘And if you touch me, I will… boil you a-alive.'

Arch rests his hand on my shoulder.

I slap him. Well… sort of. My palm touches his face, at least.

‘You may be right. Feisty may be an understatement.' He catches my hand and kisses my knuckles. A deep guttural growl emanates from his chest before he begins licking my skin, running his tongue along my fingers and moaning deeply as he does. When I feel the tip of a sharp tooth scratch my skin, I cry out. I can't take any more pain. I can't lose any more blood. Everything hurts beyond measure, and even the gentlest touch feels like razorblades and punching.

‘Will you cut it out?!' Shaw snaps, yanking him away from me. ‘We've fed from her enough tonight. We didn't go through all this and wait this long for her to die the first night because you can't control yourself.'

Archie steps away, his hands up in surrender.

I roll onto my side, desperate to move. To stand. Anything but lie here utterly at their mercy.

Others start walking in carrying buckets to a bathtub beneath a large window on the opposite side of the room. As they fill it higher, steam rises in the air, and a sweet smell of roses fills the room.

I'm still naked and have started to shiver. I'm unsure if it's a chill or the fear of what's happening that has me trembling so violently. The room spins, and my stomach flips.

One of the empty buckets appears beside me as I retch violently, puking into it mercilessly.

‘Get it out, Pixie,' Shaw encourages, holding my hair back. ‘I'm positive she should be out cold after being marked like that. The poison usually knocks them out for a day at least. She's had three of us claim her less than six hours ago, and she's already coming to.'

‘You don't think it's failed, do ya?' Dorian muses.

Archie crouches beside me and snaps his fingers until I lift my head to meet his gaze.

I try to claw at him. But miss, flying past his head without making contact. He didn't even flinch to avoid me.

He leans in close. ‘Slap yourself around the face,' he says with that stupid grin still in place.

‘Fuck you-' But my words are cut short when I do, in fact, slap myself across the face.

As I stare at my hand, he gets back on his feet and shrugs.

‘Looks like it's worked to me.'

My stomach goes again, and Shaw is there with the bucket, retaking my hair as I hurl my insides out.

I need my mind to focus. There's too much information. Too much pain. Too much betrayal.

I start to cry. I hate that it happens, but it explodes from me with as much brute force as my sickness. Desperate sobs burst from me between retches, so powerful my toes curl and my ribs crunch.

They all talk, but their words are lost to my ungodly noises.

I don't know how long I lie there like this, clinging to the bucket, wailing and retching. Long enough for my belly to empty entirely and the bath to be filled.

‘She good?' Dorian asks.

‘Yeah. I think she's done,' Shaw replies.

The bucket is removed, and they all ease me up. My head lolls, and I can't keep myself upright. Every time they start to ease their grip, I fall.

‘Come on, Pixie,' Shaw sighs, scooping me up. ‘Let's get you cleaned up before we finish off what's left of you.'

‘Get your fucking hands off me,' I warn, my words coming out a garbled mess.

‘You would rather we leave you covered in filth? Smothered in blood and with puke in your hair?'

‘I'd rather you drop dead.'

‘Already done that, I'm afraid. Can I help with any other requests?'

I look up at him as he stops by the edge of the bath. His dark gaze bores into me, and his brows raise a little as he waits.

‘What are you going to do to me?'

‘I'm going to bathe you because the smell of your blood makes us hungry. We will tend to your wounds so you don't bleed to death or die of an infection. That's what we're going to do.'

‘And then what?'

‘Then you are going to sleep. You are going to recover.'

He lowers me into the water. The warmth soothes my injuries, and the scent calms my nerves. He kneels beside me and makes sure I don't slip beneath the surface and drown. Gently, he starts to wash me.

‘Don't worry, Pixie. Cole and your coven won't get to you. Not now we have you.'

‘Why?'

‘Why what?' he asks, his hand stopping as he looks at me curiously.

‘Why did you save me?' I ask.

‘Oh, Pixie,' he sighs, continuing his tender cleaning. ‘We didn't save you. We caught you.'

He holds out his hand and gently blows. The softest of black dust emerges from his empty palm and drifts towards me, going up my nose and in my mouth. It tastes sweet and smells like fresh lavender. A wave of ease settles through me. A complete calmness and peace. My eyes grow unbearably heavy as he lowers his hand.

‘Now close your eyes and sleep.'