Chapter 11 - 2

Balance. Nurturing. Health and life.

The exact opposite of blood magic. If I had drained that creature, I would be strong. My powers remarkable.

But the fawn would be dead. And my soul all the blacker for it.

I carry on, telling myself I am an earth witch. Not a blood witch. I choose what I am. When I can, at least. They will use my powers if they have a need for them. But I will not choose it. In the same way I will not choose to end up in their cells if I can help it. Or get torn apart by a banshee.

Or broken by the three warlords and their strange habits.

I wonder what the banshee meant by saying Archie was the one she believed would end me. Shaw delivered a similar warning, stating Archie doesn't know his limits. Nor anyone else's.

Strange, because out of the three, I'd be more inclined to trust the wolf than the shadow master or the dream walker.

But, then again, I'm a terrible judge of character. I was to marry Cole, after all. And he was arse fucking my best friend behind my back the whole time.

I continue to walk. The sun is warm. The air is clean. My fingertips dance in the long grass. They caress tree trunks. Glide across rocks and sink into moss. I listen to the wind making the wilderness dance. I smile at the chorus of insects and birds. I'm home out here. No mirrors. No locked doors. Just me and the world.

I think on my Kindred. Damn my brain, constantly reminding me of the shit I would rather forget.

I reanimated a dead cat.

Does that mean I can do that? Bring back the dead? I heard stories of necromancy from the war. Blood witches reanimated hundreds of the dead to fight for them. They couldn't be stopped easily, seeing as they were already dead and all.

My fingers trace where the dark marks of the Kindred should be if not for the glamour. Mirrors and I have never really mixed. The shadows have always been there, lurking.

I have never seen a dark mirror before. A window into the beyond, I heard someone say once. I can't remember who. But the shadows have been there since I was a child. So the scar and the markings have been there, too. Hidden from sight.

Death seems to be my Kindred.

Necromancy and communing with lost souls.

Great. Because nothing bad ever happens when you play with dead things.

I should ask the guys if I can see if I have an Earth Kindred, too.

I did connect to the Earth Coven, after all.

Bile rises in my throat as soon as I think of that night. Of my hand over the fire. Of the look on Cole's face when my blood reacted to the flames. My pulse quickens, and I feel sick to my stomach. I put my head between my knees to stop the world from spinning.

Cut. Cut. Cut.

My skin stings over the places they all sliced me. My thighs press together at the memory of that blade. And rage pounds inside me as I see my father run away and Cole look me dead in the eye as he bent Thalia over.

For some reason, I grip the silver chain around my neck and pull it tight, forcing it to pinch my skin until it hurts. Until I struggle to breathe.

Pain.

That's real.

This I can control. It's mine to start and stop. My pain. Not theirs.

Mine.

Tighter. Tighter.

When the deafening sound of my pumping blood settles and my emotions become my own once more, I release the chain.

Breathe. Just breathe. In and out. I'm not at the rite. I'm in a beautiful forest. No blades. No fire.

Breathe.

In the distance, I hear the peaceful trickling of water. I've always loved the water. I find that a little stream has carved a winding path through the woodland. Ancient Ivy-clad trees and giant ferns line the banks. Chunks of flattened slate jut up through the tumbling water, all covered in thick moss.

The water calls to me. I roll up the legs of my trousers and clamber down, dipping my feet into the water.

I stand there, feeling it rush past me, painfully cold and irresistibly fresh. I close my eyes and listen to it. Listen to the sound of the birds. The rustle of the ferns and canopy above that dance in the wind.

Everything inside me calms.

My racing heart. My anger and fear. My uncertainty and confusion. The intense sense of betrayal. My growing urge to go back to my coven and slaughter the fucking lot. A new emotion, I grant you. But a powerful one.

All of it abandons me. All there is is this.

When I open my eyes, I start walking against the current. It's not long until I hear the unmistakable sound of a waterfall. Ten minutes later, I come to a sheer climb where the stream tumbles down from above. Gripping the roots and vines, I climb, pulling myself upwards onto the first of three ridges. There's another climb ahead. It's not too large but high enough to know it will hurt if I misstep and fall.

I reach the second ridge and take a moment to admire the view.

Then I climb the third. Water crashes down on my face, soaking me through entirely, making me laugh out loud as I slip and slide all over the place.

But when I reach the top, I know it was all worth it.

‘Wow…' I whisper.

Ahead, a sixty-foot-high waterfall cascades down into this crystal clear pool. Great purple vines with pink flowers trail the rockface, swaying from the rushing water's breeze. Firebugs and dragonflies skim the water's surface, and a light mist swirls in the air.

I walk towards it, drawn to its beauty.

To its power.

This is a spiritual place, there's no doubt.

Water witches must have worshipped this place before they were driven out to the edges of the sea.

Walking closer to the waterfall, I find markings carved into the slate beneath the water. Blessings in an ancient tongue. Slips of coloured ribbon containing wishes, prayers, promises and regrets have been tied to the trees surrounding the waterfall.

I put the Kedar snake onto a rock and out of the way of the water before stripping. Then, I wade to the base of the waterfall, my entire lower half disappearing in the pristine waters.

I laugh loudly at the shock of the chill but revel in it nonetheless.

My hands run through my long hair and over my body. Sinking to my knees, I slip below the water completely.

Every muscle relaxes. I make sure of it, starting from my shoulders to my stomach and then my legs, releasing the tension and stress, thanking the waterfall for permitting me to find peace within it.

There's a splash as something lands in the water. I resubmerge with a yelp, seeing Archie standing before me, completely and utterly naked.

‘Fucking hell!' I gasp, slamming my hands over my eyes, seeing as I'm crouching and his cock is precisely level with my head. But if I stand, he'll see I'm naked, too. ‘What the hell are you doing here? And why are you naked?!'

‘What's the matter with you? Never seen a dick before?'

I peek through my hands and see him standing proudly before me.

I promptly re-cover my eyes.

‘You're naked as well,' he reminds me.

‘Please put your knob away.'

‘Okay, fine. I'm submerged, Pixie.' He taps my shoulder.

He's crouching down when I look, so only the top half of his chest is on show.

‘I forget that mud witches are seriously prudish.'

‘I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting a naked shifter to land in front of me with his massive dick swinging in my face.'

He grins. ‘Why, thank you for noticing its massiveness,' he says, beaming from ear to ear.

‘Why are you naked?' I repeat in a snap.

‘I was out running in my wolf form. Caught your scent in the trees. Why are you naked?'

‘Bathing, I guess.'

We face one another, the waterfall cascading just behind us and our bodies half submerged in the sparkling water.

‘Am I in trouble?' I ask, glancing around us, half expecting to see Shaw and Dorian standing there with a scowl. But there's no one else here. ‘I just wanted to get some air. I wasn't trying to run away or anything.'

He shakes his head. ‘Nope. Not in trouble.' He glances up at the cascading water behind us. ‘You found the falls.'

I keep my eyes on him as he looks up, a cute look of wonderment on his face. Unlike the other two, he has a childlike feel about him. A playful immaturity.

I take a moment to admire the beads of water sliding down his chest and over those perfectly lean and sculpted muscles.

‘My eyes are up here, Pixie.'

With an exaggerated blink, I meet his gaze again.

‘You often run naked?' I ask.

‘I do when I'm in wolf form. You've seen the size of me. My clothes get torn to shit when I shift in them.'

‘You were just running?'

‘Well. I was also hunting. Looking for a deer or something. Do you like deer?'

‘You were hunting for me?'

He shrugs as if, yeah, that's obvious.

‘You'll get the nice bits. Some creatures in the castle will polish off the rest. Hetty likes bones, and the banshee likes eyes and tongues. Kieran will take the fur.'

‘Who are Hetty and Kieran?'

‘Hetty is a siren. Kieran is a Fae.'

‘You have a siren and a Fae back at the castle?' I ask, utterly stunned and transfixed at the complete ridiculousness of his statement. ‘Sirens and Fae are extinct.'

‘Well. She had her scales skinned off her when she was a child, so she can't go into the water, and her voice box was stolen, so she can't lure anyone to their deaths. And Kieran's wings were hacked off decades ago so he can't fly. And without wings, Fae have no worthwhile magic. They may well be the last ones left. I certainly haven't seen any others since the war.'

‘That's awful. Who did that to them?'

‘You did.'

‘Me?'

‘Blood witches,' he shrugs, casually looking around us. ‘They killed all sorts for their parts. Kind of goes along with the territory.'

Blood witches. My kind. The idea of being associated with that kind of magic makes my stomach twist in knots.

‘Will you take the blood of whatever you kill?' I ask, keen to change the subject.

‘No. Animal blood tastes like shit. I'd rather drink piss. Funny story, I've actually done that. But it was an accident. Drank too much whiskey and pissed in the bottle cos I couldn't be bothered to get up. Woke up in the morning gasping for a drink. Moral of the story… don't be a lazy fucker and piss in a bottle.' He chuckles.

‘Gross,' I laugh. ‘And noted.'

‘Why are you wearing the bracelet?' he asks.

I turn and face the waterfall.

‘I don't want to see the scars,' I admit quietly.

His hand rests on my wrist, just over the glamour. I pull away.

‘You don't need to hide when it's just us, Pixie. I hear Glamours are heavy to wear. Aren't you more comfortable without it?'

It's true. I hadn't realised the weight of it on me until it was taken off and then returned this morning. Like a heavy blanket draped over me. Or walking with a thick coating of mud on my clothes.

‘You can take it off,' he says.

‘I don't want…' The words get stuck.

‘Want?'

‘I don't want to see you look at me like I'm some injured cat you found in an alleyway.'

‘I assure you. That is not how I ever feel when I look at you.'

‘How you all looked at me when you first saw the scars? I don't want that. I don't need that.'

‘And how did we look exactly?'

‘You went from fierce warriors who captured a blood witch to pity-stricken men looking at a broken thing.' I move closer to the falls and away from him. ‘I don't like feeling self-conscious. I like my body. I've never been ashamed of it. And I don't want to feel ashamed of it now. It's survived a lot and deserves my respect and love. I just need to get used to the scars. To the idea of having them. I need time to learn to love them. That's all.'

‘I think your body is beautiful,' he says. ‘The scars just show its strength.'

‘You don't need to make me feel better about myself. All bodies are beautiful. But sometimes scars are just a reminder of all the ugly things that have happened. That's what scars are. Memories. Some are good. Some scars are full of pride. Like the ones you have from battle victories. Some are full of love, like stretch marks on a mother's stomach. But some are full of pain and despair. That's what mine are. Soon, I will love them all. They will be my victory scars. Proof I survived. I just don't feel that right now. But I love myself enough to promise I will try. Besides. It's not safe for anyone to see my Kindred marks.'

When I don't speak or turn, his hands slowly settle on my hips.

‘Until you do, I promise to see them as your victory map, Pixie,' he says. A few seconds pass as if he's waiting for me to tell him to get off. To leave.

But I don't want him to let me go. I don't want him to step away.

A trail of goosebumps follows his touch and my skin tingles. The water shifts as he moves closer. His steady breaths land on my neck as he sweeps my hair over my shoulder.

‘Have you looked at them yet?' he asks.

‘A little.'

They're a map of lies, pain and suffering. My father is a difficult man. A harsh man. But I thought, deep down, he loved me. That he never hit me hard enough to mark me. To permanently scar me.

Clearly, I was wrong. Those brief moments of kindness came so rarely, but they were everything to me when they came. And I daren't look in a mirror.

Not with the shadows.

Archie runs his fingers across my skin and down my spine.

‘Are they hideous?' I ask.

‘I don't think anything on your body could ever be hideous,' he says. ‘But I guarantee you, your father will pay for every single one of these scars.'

He moves closer. Then he kisses my shoulder.

I let out a jagged breath as his wandering hand glides down, across my hip, and onto my belly. He pulls me back into him so his chest is flush with my back.

His erection presses into my backside.

I'm instantly on my feet, facing him as he kneels in the water.

‘Coward,' he teases.

My fists are clenched as I look down at him, still smiling up at me with a sly half-smile and a slightly raised brow.

‘Go on then. Run off.'

I frown. Arrogant prick.

I take a step towards him. He doesn't move. He's daring me. Seeing if I have the balls or not. Will I run? Be angry and outraged?

He wants to see.

And if I'm honest… so do I.

I've only ever climaxed when I've pleasured myself. Cole never made me finish. Not once.

But Archie has, as well as Shaw and Dorian.

I thought I knew my body and what it could do.

But when they had me surrounded… that was an orgasm. A real fucking orgasm.

And if this is to be my life now, if I'm trapped in this place, then why the fuck not?

I reach out and run my hand through his white hair. He leans into my touch ever so slightly, not breaking eye contact with me.

Fuck. He is beautiful. An unbearably gorgeous face and a body built to perfection. And he knows what he's doing. Every touch. Every caress. He's a master at it all.

The wolf knows how to please a girl.

I look at his lips.

I know what that mouth can do. That tongue.

Fuck… that tongue.

He sits back on his haunches, lifts his hand, and slowly wags his finger.

I take a shaky breath. My body and mind are at war. My head screams, "Don't you fucking dare!". But my body wants him on me. Inside me. Wrapped all around me.

He takes that slowly wagging finger and places it between my legs.

I gasp as he eases it inside me, hooks into my inner wall, and pulls me closer.

He fully raises his brow and waits, his finger buried deep but perfectly still.

‘If you want it,' he murmurs in a velvety smooth tone made of pure seduction. ‘You gotta take it, Pixie.'

My fingers knot in his hair, and I pull him into my pussy.

His lips seal around my clit, and his free hand grabs my backside, keeping me pressed into him.

‘Shit…' I hiss, doubling over as he sucks and licks my bundle of nerves. ‘Oh… God…'

His buried finger slides in and out, massaging and caressing. He adds a second finger and pulls his face away to look up at me.

‘You are so fucking wet,' he whispers. ‘And I've barely started.' He pulls out his fingers and puts them in his mouth, sucking them clean before returning between my legs. His fingers fuck me slowly, and his mouth fucks me mercilessly.

With the sound of his moaning and the water cascading behind me, I fall into nothing and no one. All I am is pleasure and heightened senses.

He adds a third finger, stretching me as he swirls them.

‘Oh God…' I moan, knotting my fingers tighter in his hair.

More. It's all I can think of. I need more pressure. More speed. More force.

He meets my needs instinctually, knowing what I want and giving it in utter perfection.

‘Oh God…'

He pulls away and glares up at me.

‘Quit giving him all the credit, would you? If it's my fingers and tongue making you cry out in pleasure, you better say my fucking name.' He flicks my clit, making me cry out as pain and pleasure battle for dominance.

‘Sorry… I'm sorry… please…'

‘Please… who?'

‘Archie.'

He shakes his head.

I blink and say it before I comprehend it.

‘Master,' I breathe. ‘Please, Master.'

‘Good girl.'

He plunges his fingers back inside me and slams his mouth back between my legs.

In seconds, I'm coming around him, convulsing as powerful waves of pleasure rip through me, one after the other after the other. My cries echo around us, bouncing off the slate and stone. I don't hold back. I couldn't, even if I wanted to.

Which I don't.

When I was alone, I smothered my little whimpers, terrified my father would hear.

With Cole, he never got close to prising out any noise whatsoever.

I've barely finished when Archie has gotten to his feet. He has hold of me and pushes me back. We go beneath the cascading water and stop when I meet the cold, moss-covered stone behind the waterfall.

Archie lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist as he pins me to the wall.

Then he kisses me, claiming my mouth with skill and hunger. His hand glides into my hair and grips it at the roots, tugging hard as he keeps me close.

His other hand grabs at my backside, digging into my flesh hard before he lowers me a little.

Low enough so his hard cock can rest at my entrance.

‘Wait,' I pant, utterly breathless but so fucking turned on I'm struggling to get my thoughts in order. ‘Wait…'

‘You want me to stop?' he asks, his heavy breaths landing on my lips as he looks up at me. ‘Say the word. I'll stop. No questions. No anger. It's completely up to you, Pixie.'

‘I've never…I mean…'

‘I know you're a virgin. If you want me to stop, I will. Your first time is important.'

The strange thing is he's being serious. He's taking me seriously, and I know he would put me down and carry on as if nothing happened if I said stop.

But that's not what's holding me back.

‘I don't exactly… know… I mean… I just…'

His brow remains raised.

‘I just had my tongue in your vagina. I think we can skip being delicate. Spit it out, Pix. What's on your mind?'

‘I don't know what I'm supposed to do,' I whisper, feeling my face burn hot. ‘It feels nice now. But when it goes further, females always scream.'

Images of Thalia and the other girls come to mind.

‘Will it hurt?' I ask.

‘It fucking better if I'm your first. Not exactly small here,' he laughs gently.

His fingers tease my opening, slowly trailing back and forth as he looks up at me.

My head falls back, and his mouth teases my nipple. He sucks and nips, making it pert and full of nerves.

‘But it will only hurt for a second, and then you'll be begging for more,' he says, easing his fingers inside me. ‘I like to be in control, so just do as I say. If you need me to slow, say so. If you need me to stop, I will. Listen to your body, and if it's telling you something I should know, then fucking say so. Shame, embarrassment and sparing my feelings have no place in fucking. I want to make you scream in pleasure. Not scream in pain or terror. I don't get off on making girls cry. I get off on hearing them moan.'

I look down at him, my fingers gripping the mess of wet hair atop his head.

‘You'll make my first time memorable?'

‘I'll make your first time fucking unforgettable in all the best ways, Pixie.'

I reach down and take him in my hand.

My eyes widen as I feel the sheer size of him.

‘Oh. I like that look on your face,' he smirks. ‘Shock. A little bit of fear. It suits you. Now. Move your hand back and forth,' he urges. ‘Stroke me.'

When I go to look down, he slams me into the wall.

‘Eyes on me, my little blood whore. Now do as you're told and stroke my fucking cock.'

I slowly start pumping him as his tip rests at my opening.

His head falls back, and his mouth falls open.

‘Good…' he whispers. ‘That's fucking beautiful.'

All the warnings are ringing in my ears. But Archie doesn't seem unstable. He nudges himself into me a little, making me gasp.

‘I've been thinking of nothing but this since I first saw you.' He nudges a bit deeper, making me let out a little moan. ‘Oh no. That won't do. Not by far.' He grips me firmly and goes deeper. My heavy moan echoes off the wall as I adjust to him.

‘That's a beautiful noise to come from such sweet lips. More?' he asks.

‘There's more?' I pant.

A few more inches fill me.

A deeper moan comes out as I grip his shoulders.

‘More?'

‘All!'

He slams into me. I scream as he drives his cock in deep, right to the hilt.

‘FUCK!' I scream as I slam my fist into his chest.

‘You said all!' he argues.

‘I told you I was a fucking virgin!'

‘Not anymore, you're not,' he chuckles. He looks down between us, leaning back so he can see his buried cock. ‘You take me so well, my sweet little blood whore.'

I yank his hair and pull his head back.

‘Don't call me that, Mutt,' I warn.

He responds by pulling out and then thrusting into me hard, slamming my back into the wall and making me yell.

He waits, looking up at me excitedly, desperate to see what I'm going to do.

‘Give up?' he teases.

‘Why? Is that all you've got?' I grind out in reply.

‘Hold on tight,' he warns before slamming his mouth onto mine and fucking me hard. Our lips never part. His breath mixes with mine, and his tongue claims mine with fiery need. I cling to him as he slams into me. His kiss moves down my neck to my nipple, which he takes in his mouth and sucks hard. When his teeth nip my peak, I feel another build of pleasure.

I reach between my legs and work my clit.

‘So greedy. You want to scream for me again?'

‘Yes!'

‘Yes, what?'

I growl.

He pulls out and submerges me in the water, holding me down as I thrash and kick. What the hell is he doing? I can't fucking breathe! He hauls me up, and I gasp in some air.

‘Yes, what?' he repeats calmly.

‘FUCK YOU!'

‘Nope.'

He plunges me down again, holding me under with ease. He pulls me up.

‘Yes, what?'

‘Yes, Master!' I scream, coughing and spluttering.

He spins me, rests his hand on the back of my neck and presses my face into the moss of the wall. He's back inside me in an instant, fucking me from behind. With his right hand clamped down at the base of my neck, he places his left one between my legs. He circles my clit and fucks me with animalistic passion.

He growls and groans.

‘You'll cum for me,' he warns. ‘Do you hear me?'

‘Yes…'

His hand seals around my mouth and nose.

‘My little blood whore keeps forgetting her manners. Yes, what?'

His thrusts are relentless and unforgiving, but mixed with the skill of his fingers, it's perfection.

My pleasure builds. My toes curl. I slam my hand into the wall and would be screaming if I could. The edges of my vision blur. He moves his hand.

‘Yes, Master!' I cry, my orgasm tearing through me like an explosion.

He's back on his knees, his face buried between my thighs as he hungrily licks. A deep moan resonates through him, and when I look down, I see blood on his lips. My blood, coming from inside.

I'm bleeding. Oh gods… how embarrassing! When I try to move away, he glares up at me.

‘What the fuck do you think you're doing?' he demands.

Shame holds back my words. I look from him to the blood.

‘You're embarrassed?' he grins. ‘Just wait until you're on your monthlies.'

Unblinking, he spreads me as wide as I can go, holds out his tongue, and slowly drags it over my pussy, leaving a trail of red behind.

‘Oh gods…' I whisper, flooding with shame.

‘A first blood is a delicacy, little blood whore. Nothing tastes finer. Want to taste?'

I shake my head, mortified.

He eases his tongue inside me. Right fucking inside. In and out. In and out. All the while, he keeps me held wide open and never looks away.

He stands, cock in hand, as he slowly strokes himself.

‘Want to stop?' he asks.

I'm frozen in shock, utterly lost in pain, pleasure, shame and lust.

I shake my head, and he eases himself back inside me.

‘Oh fuck…' I half moan, half sob the words. That makes him smile even more.

‘One more,' he breathes. ‘You can do it. One more.' He waits, holding himself steady. ‘Tell me to stop, and I will. Or beg me, and I'll have you seeing the stars again.'

I've come this far.

I nod.

‘You call that begging?'

‘P-please… Master,' I whisper.

He secures my legs around his waist and clings to me, screwing me with skill. He's far from gentle, far from slow. But within minutes, I'm almost sobbing as I come apart around him again. Shit. I do sob. I scream.

He grunts heavily and bellows out a mighty cry as his cock pulsates and jerks inside of me.

He slows and stops, looking up at me through some seriously dishevelled hair and lust-filled eyes.

‘Not a virgin anymore, are ya?' He takes my chin, pulls my lips to his, and kisses me deeply.