Page 8 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

He’s pointing at me.

I’m the dumbshit.

I take a deep breath. “It’s because I didn’t have a partner and felt tag-teamed.”

Because I don’t have one.

I don’t see one in my future, either.

How bad does it suck when you see everyone else’s, but when you look into yours, it’s like this dark abyss?

Everyone starts laughing. I smile, but internally, I wonder. I hate wondering what the universe has planned for me. Not only is it frustrating, but apparently, the only action I get are the women I take home from the bar or ones who attack me for trying to help them.

Though it would have been a nice way to go. Her bite was deep, my dick was hard, and she smelled incredible.

All part of the charm until you get sucked dry.

I shake it off. “No more game-night talk. You guys finish your drinks. I’ll check on the most-likely-dead vampire. Since Timber left, someone else gets the honor of sending his body where it belongs. And I swear if she got blood anywhere, I’m committing murder.”

Ethan smirks. “Why in the hell are you so attached to that couch?”

I don’t tell him it’s the only piece of furniture I have from Scotland, my actual home. I don’t tell any of them I’m homesick or that my heart feels like it’s constantly bleeding for something it doesn’t know it needs.

I can’t tell them I feel isolated while surrounded by others.

Or that, sometimes, I wonder what the point is when we’re all truly alone at the end of the day.

“Dad!” I screamed. “Let him stay! He’s my brother!”

My dad glared at me. “He’s an abomination.”

A tear slid down my cheek as Mason slowly gave me his back and hung his head. “I just wanted to check in one last time. Wanted to let you know I’m thriving under the Dark One. Tell you I have a purpose. I wanted…”

I wait for what he’ll say.

Under his breath, he whispered, “Christmas.”

My soul died inside my body. It was one of our favorite holidays. He had been cast out centuries ago, and all I wanted was to have my brother by my side. Instead, he’d been abandoned—even though he was the heir to the throne, given to my father by the Creator of all things.

“Mason!” I yelled, reaching for him.

He shook his head and walked away.

I have only two memories of this past: one where I see into it and witness what my parents did to save him—they gave him Fallen Angel blood to keep him alive. And the second…

Christmas.

Sometimes, I wonder why my nightmares always repeat. Other times, I know it’s probably because of my abilities.

When I asked my parents why I had the gift, they went completely silent.

I still don’t know why the question was a big deal. I have no clue. All I know is that I have something most werewolves don’t, and for whatever reason, it makes me a sort of outlier, even though I’m a prince.

“Hey.” Mason hits me in the arm. “Why do you look like you’re ready to cry?”

“Huh?” I feel like time just escaped me, as if I’m not myself. “Meh. Maybe it’s because a succubus took advantage of me sexually on my favorite couch. But whatever, I’m over it.”

Alex laughs and takes another sip of his beer. “Or were you on it, and she was on you? I just feel like we need to experience the whole seduction. God knows it’s my specialty.”

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