Page 12 of Balor

I laughed. “Sweetheart, you have no idea what I am.”

She really didn’t. If she knew about my past, what I’d done before I created this town, then she would never have come here to find me. She’d have stayed far the fuck away. I might not be the killer I’d once been, but it didn’t change the fact my soul had been tainted.

The air in the mansion felt cold, oppressive. The shadows seemed to reach for her. Almost as if the very house itself wanted to keep her away from me, protect her from the evil that might spill out and sully her. Even if she was a witch, it didn’t mean she was the bad kind. Although, from what I’d heard of her coven, they weren’t exactly white witches.

“Why me?” I asked. “What I mean is, if you hadn’t heard about some prophecy, would you still have come here?”

She lifted her chin, even as her hands trembled. “Because I’ve heard the whispers. I knew you were the only one who might be able to kill him. I’m not strong enough to do it, and if he’s left alive, he’ll keep coming for me. But the prophecy gave me the push I needed.”

Her voice cracked at the end. I heard the desperation in her tone, and the fear of her father. Little did she know I’d once been much worse than he’d ever been, or ever would be. There’d been a time when I had so much blood on my hands, my dreams had been filled with crimson.

Creating Darkwood had been my way of making things right. Or at least attempting to change my ways and protect people instead of destroying them. Dark magick had a way of twisting you into something you didn’t recognize. It’s why I wasn’t as powerful as I’d once been. I hadn’t touched the truly dark stuff in a century or more. It had been more than seventy years since I was last in any sort of battle.

What would she think of me if she knew I’d been on the wrong side of the supernatural war that broke out one hundred fifty years ago? I doubted she’d see me as a hero.

For now, no one had come searching for me except for her. And as far as I knew, her father hadn’t located her yet. It was only a matter of time, and I wanted to make sure I had things in place, even if it meant calling in favors. I wouldn’t let the Coven of Eternal Night rip apart Darkwood.

We weren’t going to decide anything tonight, especially on an empty stomach. I beckoned to her. “Come on.”

Turning, I walked off toward the kitchen, pausing when I didn’t hear her behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her rooted to the spot. “I won’t say it again, Belladonna.”

Finally, she followed me. I stepped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. If the witch was picky, then I guessed I’d find out sooner or later. For now, I’d cook what I had available and she’d either eat it or starve.

I pulled out steaks and seasoned them before wrapping some potatoes in foil. After I preheated the oven, I stuck the potatoes on the rack and started the grill built into the gas stove top. While I cooked, she remained at the table, silently watching me. I could feel her gaze on my back. Once the food was cooking, I stalked over to her. I saw the pulse in her neck flutter, and I didn’t think it was entirely due to fear.

“You’re awfully quiet,” I said.

She just stared at me. I thought about reading her mind but decided against it. Now that I knew we were mates, it seemed like a violation of trust. We’d already started off on the wrong foot. No point in making things worse. Even though I used it with my brothers, it didn’t make it right. I knew it was a shitty thing to do to people I cared about, but the safety of the town always came first. It had to. I couldn’t focus on just my club or Belladonna. I had thousands of people depending on me.

I went back over to the stove and flipped the steaks and rotated the potatoes. I felt her behind me, but she still didn’t speak. I could sense her curiosity. She wanted to ask questions. I didn’t know why she held back. If she’d been afraid of me, she never would have come here. By the time the food had finished cooking, I’d set the table and poured us each a drink.

I took a seat across from her, then placed a steak on each of our plates, along with a potato. I cut into my steak, the knife scraping against the plate. Her hand trembled as she picked up her fork. I kept my gaze on my food, but I could picture her picking up the knife and slicing into the meat. I saw her reach for the butter and sour cream for her potato, and I followed suit.

I couldn’t stop myself from looking at her. The way her red hair gleamed in the light. Her pale skin and the light smattering of freckles across her cheeks. She wasn’t beautiful in the traditional sense. No, Belladonna was stunning. I wondered if her skin would flush as I sank into her. Would she scream for me again? Or would she whimper in pleasure? Even though I’d remembered bits and pieces from our night together, I wanted to be fully aware of what was happening the next time I had her in my bed.

I grimaced, my thoughts going places they shouldn’t. I finished my food and backed my chair away from the table. I left the kitchen, but I couldn’t quite make myself leave the house. I heard her soft voice as she murmured a thank-you. The chair legs scraped against the floor and I heard her moving around.

I paced the living room, my thoughts turning darker. I’d wanted to kill her. I was still angry, but she’d managed to get under my skin. I hated her for it. Hated myself even more. She shouldn’t have been able to do it. I’d grown up in the worse possible environment. I’d seen and done things I’d never admit to anyone. So why the hell did one slip of a woman make me feel things I didn’t want to feel?

I heard her soft footsteps again, this time moving away from the kitchen. I went to the archway and watched her walk through the dining room and up the stairs. I cursed myself for not thinking to tell her where she’d be sleeping. Even though I’d put her in my bed before, would she assume she’d sleep there again?

I took the steps two at a time and saw her standing in the hallway, looking lost. Her body tensed when she heard me coming up behind her. I liked the way her breath hitched. Her submissiveness pleased me, even though I doubted it was given freely. Not yet. Right now, she was reacting based on basic instincts, and nothing more.

I walked past her and led her to the end of the hall, opening the door to the room next to mine. The room I’d planned to put my mate in one day. Well, when I’d thought I might find one eventually. Living together for centuries meant we’d each need our own space from time to time. It’s why I’d prepared this space. Of course, I’d hoped for a sweet woman who’d give me a few kids. I doubted Belladonna was that woman. Then again, she could surprise me. She’d come here with the hope of getting pregnant. Maybe she’d be a great mom.

“Get some rest,” I said. “I’ll bring your things and then I’ll be locking the door.”

She took a step back, her gaze darting to the bed before coming back to me. I could see the pulse in her neck, the rapid flutter that indicated her fear. She didn’t trust me, no matter what she’d said earlier. I couldn’t blame her. I’d killed people for less than what she’d done.

I closed the door and went to my room, leaving hers unlocked. I didn’t think she’d be foolish enough to leave the room. Even if she did, she wouldn’t get far. I heard the shower turn on as I crossed to the room where I’d left her things. I grabbed the bag, then went back to her room. I set it just inside the door, then closed it again and locked it with my magick.

I heard the shower cut off as I turned and went back downstairs. I needed to think about what I’d do next. I’d become tied to a woman I didn’t know. One who lied and tricked me. I didn’t know if I could trust her, but I’d given my word I’d keep her safe. I’d find out more about her, and what she could do.

First, I had a few calls to make. I needed to know more about the woman who was now mine. Not about her coven, or her family, but the woman herself. I called the one person who might know more about her and waited. The phone rang five times before it was answered.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Abigail asked.

“Need some information on a woman,” I said. “Belladonna Kline.”

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