Page 1 of Dirty Little Saint

Maureen

Some believe that ravens are the harbingers of death. That they’re damned souls. Others believe they can summon the ghosts of murdered wolves. I’m not sure what to believe anymore. But when a raven dies, their coven mourns them by mimicking their cries. Tonight, I can hear those cries in the distance. It’s like nails on a chalkboard.

Up at Valentin’s cabin, we are far from Tenebrose, yet still tethered to it. An unkindness of ravens forms a wall in the front yard. They weep for their fallen. They mourn the shifting of the bond. Three weeks ago, we were at their mercy. Slaves to their every whim. But all that changed when I took the mark and pledged my oath to Nocturnus.

“Come away from the window, Maur.” Valentin snakes an arm around my waist, and I almost cum from his body heat.

I lean my head back against his chest and close my eyes. “The ravens… they’re still out there.”

He dips his fingers inside the waistband of my jeans. “They envy us. You should be more concerned about what I’m going to do to you right now.”

I let out a soft moan and arch back. He pushes two fingers inside my slick pussy, and I can barely breathe. His scent invades my senses. I want to taste him. To bottle up his essence and drink it while he fucks me.

“It’s time for your next sacrament, Firecracker.” He presses his thumb against my throbbing clit and drags me backward.

My heart races. It’s been weeks since I pledged my oath to them. When I sprawled out on Riot’s bed and let the three of them mark and defile me. We’ve been nesting here at Valentin’s cabin while the three of them have taken sick pleasure from edging me ever since.

I want to explode.

Another moan erupts from my throat as he pulls me down the stairs. The darkness begins to cover us, and I start to panic. But he knows the way to the crypt beneath this house better than anyone. He can navigate it with his eyes closed. So I let him guide me down with his fingers still working their magic inside my pussy.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he growls in my ear.

“Yes,” I plead.

He gives my clit a hard pinch. “Such a needy fucking slut.”

As soon as we get to the bottom of the stairs, the sound of a match against stone breaks the silence followed by the stench of sulfur, and the whole room lights up.

My ache for them festers as I come face-to-face with Riot and Atlas. All I can see is their eyes behind their bronzed masks. They stare back at me with a crazed hunger, a reminder of who they are deep down.

Fucking psychos.

Dressed in all black, they pull up their hoods before giving me their backs. They move like predators as they stalk down the tunnel. Valentin pushes me forward as we follow them.

“Please, Val… I need to cum.” His fingers are torturous, teasing my flesh with the promise of release but never allowing me to reach it. I don’t even care where they’re taking me. Or what they plan to do to me. The pain is always worth the pleasure.

As he withdraws his hand, I shriek in protest. He grabs the back of my head and yanks on my hair. “You’re not in control tonight, love. So shut the fuck up and stop begging.”

The tunnel dead-ends in a small cavern. Its stone walls are lined with sconces and stained with blood. The cold draft that seeps between the cracks sends shivers down my spine.

A large stone altar sits in the middle of the room, similar to the one back at Nocturnus, except this time, there are no initiates watching. No one’s eyes on me but theirs—my three devils of Raven’s Gate.

Atlas’s pet snake, Zeus, slithers around his shoulders, its body hanging five feet to the ground. I shiver as the memory of the reptile sinking its fangs into my thigh rushes forward. The pain had been excruciating, the paralysis that followed terrifying, but the sweet ecstasy that enveloped me after Atlas sucked the poison out was a pleasure that I struggle to find words to describe. It was exquisite torture.

Riot stalks behind me, his fingers dancing across my shoulders before dragging my top down to my waist. He presses a cold blade against my belly. “Before this year is up, every inch of your skin will bear our marks.”

My nipples swell as he drags the tip of the blade in circles around them. It takes my breath away. “I’m ready,” I murmur.

He steps back. “Take off your clothes and get on the altar.”

My teeth chatter from the cool, damp air but also from anticipation. I slowly finish removing my top, then my pants and shoes. The cement floor is like ice against the soles of my bare feet. A spasm flickers in my core as I slide my panties down and off.

They watch me with a feral hunger as I climb the steps of the altar, their need growing like a raging fire. I gasp as the freezing stone meets my flesh when I lie down across it.

But I know I won’t be cold for long.

Their silence sends a flutter of nerves to the pit of my belly. I don’t know what will happen next. I never do with them.

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