Page 24 of The Wild Hunt

But it isn’t my name she breathes as I step into the room.

"Nathan, please stop," she whimpers, and a burning rage lashes through me at the pain I hear in her soft voice.

She’s alone, tangled in the blanket on her bed, her body thrashing, caught in a nightmare that I haven’t provided. I'm beside her in moments, my hand wrapping around the base ofher throat, power flooding through me. I keep her under for the journey back to Faerie, but the moment we materialize in my chambers, I use my magic to rip her from the nightmare. Her body arches against my palm as she gasps, eyes wide and disoriented as she takes me in.

Standing over her.

Her gaze flicks quickly around the room, heart racing, as her hand comes up to circle mine, weakly grasping at my wrist. But I don’t let go of her throat, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my fingers as they flex. The temptation to squeeze harder pulls at me, but I restrain myself. For now. I suddenly don’t care if she thinks this is real or another dream, but I can tell by the way her body slumps back into the bed that she assumes the latter—convinced she's still trapped in a fantasy of her own mind.

"Who is Nathan, little songbird?" I ask softly, my voice cold, yet curious.

Her lips part as if to speak, but no words come out. She’s too stunned, too afraid to answer. I can see her mind racing, trying to make sense of the situation. I press my thumb slightly harder against her throat, feeling her gasp for air.

“I’m waiting,” I say, my patience thinning as the anger from the memory of her whimpering that name burns anew inside me.

“I—he—” she stammers, eyes darting away from mine as if looking for an escape that doesn't exist. But there's no running from me. Not here. My vines slither across the bed to lash around her wrists, tugging the one holding my arm away, and spreading them both out across the bed.

"I don't want to talk about him here," she whispers, her voice fragile, almost breaking.

Her eyes dart away again, and I can feel her trying to close herself off, trying to push away the memories, the thoughts ofhim. But I won’t let her. Not now. Not when that name on her lips said in fear tore through me like a blade.

"I don’t want to think about him here," she adds, her voice barely audible now.

I tighten my grip just enough to remind her that I’m in control here. “But you already are,” I murmur, letting the words sink in as I release her throat. My hand trails down her naked body, and she shivers, but can’t stop me.

My fingers travel lower, gliding over her skin as if I have all the time in the world. Her body trembles and I can sense something more beneath the lingering fear—something darker, more vulnerable.

She gasps when my hand cups her pussy, her breath stuttering for a different reason now, her chest heaving as I press my fingers to her entrance. Her thighs tense, but she still doesn’t protest. My touch is possessive, but measured, as if I'm considering every reaction, every breath she takes.

"Who is he?" I whisper, my fingers pressing a little harder, just enough to make her pulse quicken again. “Tell me his full name... and what he did.”

Her lips part, but no words come. Instead, her eyes squeeze shut, her breath hitching as I trace circles over her, teasing her body while waiting for her to break.

I’m glad her eyes are closed when I feel the ripple of power through the room. I look up to meet Lorcan’s ice blue eyes when he materializes in the corner of the room. I almost growl at the intrusion but then I realize he came because he felt my fury through our bond. If she sees him, then she will know this isn’t simply a dream.

Lorcan arches an elegant eyebrow, his gaze flicking between us, before rolling his eyes at the look on my face. The air shifts subtly as he flexes his power to cloak himself from her sight.

But he stays, leaning against the wall, watching. For the first time, I see his intense eyes shift to her, his pupils dilating slightly as his nostrils flare, inhaling her scent. I have to force myself to focus back on the naked woman in front of me, and not the sidhe man standing in the shadows.

“You know I won’t stop until you tell me,” I continue, my voice dark and dangerous, each word a promise of what’s to come if she refuses. “So speak. Or I’ll make you beg. Who. Is. He?”

She opens her mouth, trembling, her body arching slightly under my touch as her resistance falters.

“He... Nathan... he…” she gasps, struggling to form the words.

My fingers slip inside her, slow, deliberate. Coaxing the confession from her as I lean down, my lips brushing against her ear. “Tell me,” I whisper again, more insistently, my patience wearing thin. The feel of her trembling beneath me, the war she’s waging with herself, is intoxicating.

“Nathan Belrose. He’s my ex boyfriend, he hurt me,” she finally says, voice cracking. Her words spark the fire of my rage, and I hear the distant thunder rolling as lightning crackles from Lorcan’s fingers. His presence thrums with violence, though my own fury burns just as bright. I glance at him again, catching the way his eyes narrow on her, his fingers flexing. His thirst for blood and vengeance is palpable. He’s watching, absorbing every moment, feeding off both her pain and my anger, and his in turn feeds my own, creating a tsunami that builds inside us both.

A growl rumbles low in my chest, my fingers curling inside her in response. "What did he do?" My voice is colder now, demanding the truth she doesn’t want to tell me.

Tears slip from her tightly shut eyes, her body reacting to both my touch and the memories she can no longer hold back.

“He... made me feel like I was nothing. Like I was simply an object to him,” she whispers, her voice trembling with the weight of the pain she’s been trying to bury. “He... took everything fromme, separated me from everyone in my life. And then he hit me, over and over until I was bleeding and couldn’t move… couldn’t fight him off when he…”

Her confession fuels the darkness inside me, the desire to erase the shadow of this Nathan Belrose from her mind, from existence entirely. I can feel Lorcan’s power surge again, his silent rage rippling through our bond. His eyes remain fixed on her, watching, waiting. The intensity in the room is suffocating, a dangerous mix of fury and desire, but I can’t afford to lose control. Not yet. My hand moves with more purpose now, each touch designed to make her forget anyone who’s ever touched her before me.

Her words trail off, choked by a sob that she tries to stifle. I can feel her shame, her anguish, radiating from her in waves. It mingles with my own fury, creating a potent cocktail of emotions that threatens to overwhelm us both.

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