Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Twenty-Three

Evie didn't mean to close her eyes. One minute she'd been standing in the dark, her back pressed to the front of Lorcan. The next, the hunter said a few words and her body disconnected.

Whatever happened wasn't normal. Whatever he'd said wasn't normal. Those words had infiltrated her body and shut it all down.

Her visions had never been painful before. There'd been one or two where she'd pried through things she played a part in. Other than that, they'd been fine. Now, her head was exploding from image to image. Each new one to appear came with its own bout of searing pain.

When her eyes closed, all she saw was fire. There was fire and burning and ash that seemed to rain down from the sky. In her more vivid visions, Evie could sense things. In this one, she could smell death.

It was the putrid kind of something unnatural. Often, as a kid, she'd flee to the fields just beyond the 'wall' with Annaliese. Sometimes, bodies were thrown over when the soldiers couldn't be bothered to dispose of them correctly.

Evie knew that smell. It was the smell of an unnatural death. The smell of something evil.

It was the scent of her childhood intensified.

Above her, it was like the sky was bleeding. A black sky. A sky with no clouds or stars or sun.

She didn't see anything else. No people. No faces. No resolution.

She didn't even see the cause of the fire.

When her eyes started to open, the fire left her with chills. And then the world hit her full force.

Everything came back at once. She could move her legs again. She flexed her fingers out, grasping at nothing. Breath filled her lungs and her heart beat faster.

She was outside beneath the stars, though she saw the hue of a nearby lamppost first. Her body felt heavy. Stiff. Her hand was resting on a tarmacked road, her body clutched by another.

Moment of truth.

Who was her new captor?

"Please don't kill me," she whispered.

Evie wasn't ready to die yet. She still had shit to do.

Her captor readjusted her, bringing her closer to a much warmer body. She knew that smell.

"Not going to kill you witch." Lorcan. "Never going to kill you." She felt his lips on her hairline. Never? Boyo, boyo. Everything else he'd said begged to differ. Had the werewolf King suffered a change of heart during her hellish time out? "I've got you. Look, Evie. I've got you. You're safe. Nothing's going to hurt you. No one's touching you. You're with me baby." Was that relief she was feeling? Over Lorcan? Yeah, no chance. "No one's ever going to touch you again." She heard him release a tired sigh. "You're awake."

He gave her body a thankful squeeze, clutching her closer. "I'm awake," she asserted. Her head was banging. "Were you worried about me?"

She saw his lips twist. How to answer? "I'll admit you had me panicking. One minute you were fine, the next—"

"What-"

"They're gone," he told her before she could get the words out. "I've sent them to go find whoever put the bounty out for you and give them a message. They'll do it. They'll die if they don't."

"And what's that?"

"Hmm?"

Was the werewolf distracted?

"What's the message?"

"You're not to be fucked with."

Her lips parted. She let out a shocked breath. Puh.