Flames of Chaos Read online

  I knew I should stop him, push him away from me, and yet I didn’t. His hand slowly pushed down my belly, dipping into the silk pants I wore, and I trembled violently the moment his fingers brushed my clitoris.

  His head lifted, watching me through hooded eyes before his mouth claimed mine softly at first before it turned demanding. His tongue fought mine, taking an effort to remember that air was needed to sustain life.

  The combination of his tongue in perfect rhythm with his fingers was erotic. My legs dropped open, and his fingertips trailed over my opening leisurely, like he was learning me, discovering my body. Knox’s finger slipped into my body, and I gasped against his mouth, even as I ground into his touch. Another finger pushed into my needy core, and I arched against the fullness as he growled huskily, lifting his mouth until I fought to claim it.

  He watched me while he created a storm within my body, threatening to wreck me. My shirt was up, exposing the hardened nipples that begged to be sucked by him, but he sat back, forcing his fingers deeper into my body before his thumb began working lazily against my clit.

  Knox pushed the band of his sweatpants down, exposing a monstrous-sized cock that glistened with a bead of arousal on the thickened tip. His free hand moved, using his thumb to wipe the cum from his velvet flesh before he brought it to my mouth, pushing it between my lips. I moaned, licking his thumb before I sucked it deeper into my mouth.

  What the hell was I doing? I should have been kicking this prick out of the room, but I wasn’t. Instead, I was sucking his thumb as he slowly brought me toward the edge of release. Fingers withdrew, and he settled between my thighs. I started to sit up, fully intending to end this before it got too far out of control, but everything changed.

  Thick black wings extended from his spine, and his body covered in lines that pulsed with ancient magic. Pure, dark magic of the evilest form filled the room as I opened my mouth past his thumb to argue what he was doing to my body. Claws extended, filling my mouth and cunt as he watched me closely. It hurt, aching until everything inside of me rebelled at what was being done to my body.

  “Knox, no,” I uttered hoarsely as the fingers withdrew from my body. I watched him lift the claw he’d just fucked me with to his mouth, licking it clean with a forked tongue.

  My hands fisted the sheets to retreat. The scream that sat at the back of my throat bubbled to the front, and his wicked eyes watched me before they stared down at where he was about to join us.

  He fisted his massive cock, rubbing it over my opening and watched as I struggled to escape him, but it was as if invisible hands held me to the bed, keeping me prisoner while he studied me as I trembled with fear.

  “Little lamb, I will slaughter you and eat you whole,” he chuckled through a multilayered voice. He pushed the generous tip of his cock into my body, watching my eyes grow wide with horror.

  Nails dragged over my stomach, and blood rushed to the surface of the wounds he’d made. His other hand reached into my stomach, and I screamed. I kept screaming until he withdrew something small and unmoving from me. In his hands was a child, a winged child with a plentiful wail. I shook my head, fighting the invisible hands that held me until I rolled off the bed, landing with a thud.

  I stood up immediately, intending to run, and paused. My hand touched my flat stomach and felt it was wet. I lifted my hand, but it was clean of blood, then my gaze moved to the bed, finding the sheets askew from the nightmare. It had seemed so real. I exhaled slowly and then turned my head as a scream ripped through the hallway.

  I heard it again and slowly moved to the door, listening as the sound of a bed slamming against a wall filled the empty hallway. My eyes closed when realization slapped me in the face as Lacey’s sounds of pleasure exploded again.

  The bed was pounding against the wall, and each time it hit, she screamed louder until I was positive she’d lose her voice come morning. Snorting, I closed my door and ignored the screams until they became too much to handle.

  Leaving the room, I searched for something to pass the hours until morning, noting a soft glow from a door at the far end of the hallway. I started toward it, ignoring the noises that Knox and Lacey made that were both obnoxious and grotesque. My bare feet padded on the marble floor and paused as growling sounded from behind me.

  Exhaling slowly, I silently turned around, still taking steps in the opposite direction. The growling noise grew louder while the screams from Lacey turned weaker until they changed into wet screams as if she were being ripped apart. The hair on my neck stood up, and the sound of the door opening forced me to turn back toward the open door.

  I rushed into the room before closing the door silently behind me as my heart raced in my chest. I pushed my hair free from the band that held it out of my face before I turned around, looking at the walls lined with ancient tomes.

  Books were something I’d always loved. I’d been unable to pass a bookstore without looking inside, even if only to touch the books with the tips of my fingers, much to the many storekeepers’ annoyance when I walked out bookless. I could never get enough books or read enough words to escape the reality of the world. Everything I knew of romance, I’d learned from books.

  Knox had thousands of them just waiting to be plucked from the extensive shelves lining the walls as far as the eye could see. Stepping closer, I reached out, running my fingers over the ancient spines and inhaling their earthy scent. Skimming the titles, I smiled to myself, noting he had a vast selection of human literature along with older, more primitive, and priceless tomes from the Nine Realms.

  The Nine Realms were ageless, each was created from an original bloodline and governed as a group by the original families. They existed long before this or any of the other realms were even dreamt of, let alone created. To have literature from the Nine Realms was telling because only those of the highest statue or rank were given those books to keep safe. I withdrew one of the hefty tomes, thumbing through the pages while absently chewing my lip as my gaze took in the ancient beasts that had once roamed Norvalla.

  Norvalla, the furthest of the Nine Realms from this one, was similar to the fae version of the Court of Night, or Nightmares. Evil lived within that realm, and all rumors said it was the worst of the Nine Realms in which to be sentenced, minus being sent to the Void of Nothingness, which served as a prison for the Nine Realms. Some realms were beautiful, unreal realms that bespoke of magical creatures and ethereal, endless beauty. Then there was Norvalla, and that was the one place that called to me and raised my curiosity. Pushing the book back into its place, I stared at the rare wood that held it.

  I gasped, realizing the shelves of his library were built from the ancient white oak trees that only grew within Norvalla, and my heart skipped a beat. He not only had thousands of books and thesauruses from that realm, but he also had hundreds of customized shelves brought in from the furthest of the Nine Realms. Who the hell was he? And the books he’d chosen? Books I could get lost in for years!

  You could tell a lot about a person by what type of books they displayed on their shelves. You collected books you enjoyed, books you treasured and wanted to keep close by to sink into a large Chesterfield couch and escape the world. It was like getting a rare glimpse into the soul by snooping through someone’s private book collection. What they read told you a lot about a person and their personality, if they preferred fantasy or fiction to nonfiction, they needed an escape from the mundane. Nonfiction readers preferred to live in the now, to know facts the narrator or writer had studied in vivid detail. I preferred romance or fantasy to escape and live a thousand lives I’d never experience without the author giving me the chance to climb inside their soul, making their books my home for a little while.

  Turning to stare deeper into the room, I noted they had built every shelf from white oak, and my mind raced with how someone or anyone could achieve bringing back that much wood. Rows of books filled the area, mirroring a library, and yet the design was created with efficiency in mind. Each c
orner held the carved head of a mythical beast, and I studied them until the room began to change, growing darker with every step I took. The temperature dropped, causing my bare arms to chill. The lighting was dimmer as if this side of the room lacked the candles or illumination that the opening interior held.

  My breathing was the only sound I heard, other than the padding of my feet, as I moved deeper into the luxurious room. My breath became puffs of steam, causing me to stop and take in my surroundings. I spun in a full circle, frowning at the rows of shelves that blocked my way back.

  They had moved! Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I considered going back to see if they would move again, but my curiosity was piqued, and I needed to know what else was in this room. The room itself seemed to go on forever as if I’d stepped into another realm instead of a library. If I’d had bread crumbs, I’d have placed them on my path to help me find my way back, but Knox’s library was like the candy house, and fuck if I wasn’t willing to be eaten by an old hag to search through more of it.

  Giving in to the curiosity that drove me, I started moving deeper into the room regardless of the temperature plummeting. My feet touched something slick, and I barely escaped slipping. Stepping back, I crouched low and ran my fingers over the floor, noting it was covered in thick ice. It wasn’t just any ice; no, it was beautiful, mirroring the purity of high-quality quartz crystals that this realm produced. My hand lifted to my nose and inhaled slowly, deeply as the scent of midnight roses filled my lungs.

  Holy shit.

  Knox had ice from the highest peaks in the Dark Mountains, which separated two of the Nine Realms: Norvalla, and the Beast Kingdom. The ice was infused with the rich, intoxicating scent of the rare black midnight blooming rose that only grew within the mountain range. The rose’s scent was prized among witches; even my Aunt Aurora had craved the precious essential oil the rose produced.

  The mountain pass in which they bloomed was rumored to be guarded by monsters so hideous and strong no witch had gotten more than a drop of the essence. Aurora, however, had a small vial she treasured that she wore around her throat and never took off. She’d only ever let us girls smell it once, and I’d craved it ever since.

  Standing, I carefully moved over the floor, wondering what else he held within his treasure trove. Knox seemed to be a collector of rare things, which didn’t surprise me in the least. It surprised me he had a vast, history-rich library filled with rare things that shouldn’t exist in this realm. He’d brought back frost, the frost that had grown to cover his floors. Frost from the Dark Mountains was a living thing, and unlike the snow or ice in this realm, it would never melt. It would continue growing until everything it could reach was covered.

  Rounding a corner, I paused. Crystals covered the floor in intricate patterns. My fingers itched to touch the huge sphere of citrine that was the size of my head or bigger. The imperfection of it shone beautifully beneath the light that glowed through it. Rainbows reflected from the surface, shining over the walls to create a perfect show of ethereal beauty. Large high-quality quartz towers stood around it, adding their rainbow-like kaleidoscope lights to cover the ceiling. Everywhere I looked, there were crystals of the highest quality that sang to the witch within me to touch, and yet it was considered impolite to do so since they absorbed a person’s negativity and every emotion they felt at the time that they touched it. Knox had more crystals than we did; spheres, double-sided points, tumblers, and skulls, all carved perfectly with craftsmanship I’d never seen achieved.

  I hated him more because of it, and also because I wanted them all.

  Continuing on, I almost wept with relief when my frozen feet touched carpet, but not just any carpet. It was the finest silk from North Attleborough, a small town within Norvalla, known for their mastery of fabrics. It was expensive, and yet so exquisite that I couldn’t help but stretch my toes in it. I wanted to lie on it, roll around on it, and rejoice that my breath no longer escaped in clouds of steam or that my feet were no longer in danger of frostbite.

  Refraining from making a total idiot of myself, I spun in a wide circle once more, gasping when I realized there were no more bookcases or shelves, and the way back looked like a rainbow filled ice tunnel with no end in sight. What the hell was this place? Stepping further into the room, the sensation of being watched filled me with foreboding, causing my gaze to lift to the tallest part of the newest room’s wall where statues of gargoyles in perfect condition sat peering down.

  “Aren’t you beautiful?” I whispered, barely loud enough to be heard as if I feared being scolded by the librarian of this place? At least it wouldn’t be Knox discovering me snooping, since he was currently balls deep in Lacey, judging by the lewd noises from the room next to mine.

  Whoever had captured the likeness of the gargoyles had to have perfected them. Even from where I stood below, I could see the love and quality the artist had put into each one. They looked alive, which I knew couldn’t be since, even within the Nine Realms, they were extinct. The crackling of flames drew my attention back to the floor, and I shivered from the icy fingers of the chill one last time before moving toward the fire to warm up.

  On my way to the fireplace, I frowned, taking in the large opulent couch carved of quartz weighing more than any creature could lift easily. It was covered in luxurious crimson velvet that popped against the light-colored carpet.

  The fireplace was massive and set back in the wall, surrounded by large black onyx, reflecting the fire’s dancing flames. It wasn’t just beautiful. It was exquisite and hard to believe someone like Knox would relish such beautiful things in his home.

  The man was an enigma. He had rare yet deadly things in his library, containing so much knowledge within the tomes lining the walls that you’d never tire of reading them. I groaned with bliss as the fire heated my flesh, warming me quickly from the walk through the iciness he’d brought here with him.

  If he wasn’t such a prick, I’d ask if I could read some of his treasured books, and yet I knew without asking that the answer would be a perfect no, said from his smug lips. I hoped he choked on Lacey’s juices, or got stuck inside her for waking me up. Although, if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have stumbled across his library or been privy to see the rare, beautiful items it held.

  I turned, looking through the rest of the room, and paused as the man of my thoughts met my gaze, peering over a book as he lounged in the matching couch to the one I’d passed. His hair was mussed, ruffled from reclining on the sofa on a mountain of pillows that were probably as soft as the carpet. Oceanic blue eyes narrowed with anger as they locked with mine over the book he was reading. Knox shirtless, with messed up hair, was dangerous.

  “You were told not to leave your room.”

  “I know.” Feeling guilty, I watched him carefully. “I couldn’t sleep, and there was a light on in this room.” I’d willingly broken his rule, and worse, I was alone with him. I’d assumed he’d been otherwise occupied with Lacey since it was her screams that had been coming from the room next to mine.

  “I told you not to leave your room, Aria. You broke the rules,” he chided, watching me through a dark, languid stare that made me feel naked and exposed as if he could see through me, watching the nightmare I’d had of him vividly through my eyes.

  “I had a nightmare, and then Lacey’s screams wouldn’t let me sleep. They were gross and highly annoying. Apparently, your house gives me nightmares, and your girlfriend slipped and landed on someone else’s dick. Maybe she got bored with yours,” I offered, dropping my stare to the book he read, Genealogy of the Hecate Bloodline. “That is not going to offer you much help on getting her back. Whoever she landed on, they sound rather talented.” Why was I still talking? His lips pulled back in a cold smile, and he tilted his head, dragging his gaze down the sheer silk pajamas I wore, clinging to my skin now covered in a subtle sheen of sweat from standing by the fire too long.

  “You are either very brave or very stupid, little lamb.”
/>   Chapter 13

  I could tell by Knox’s icy glare and the narrowing of it that he was annoyed with my presence in the library. I hadn’t planned to invade his space, but I was here now, and I wasn’t ready to leave. He could demand that I go back to my room, but I wasn’t in the mood to back down from a challenge.

  He wasn’t going to tell me what to do and expect me to follow his demands blindly. I was a woman, after all. His glare intensified as if he was deciding how best to cut me up and discard of my pieces.

  He started to get up from the couch, but I moved toward him, taking the book from his hands, and sat beside him, staring at the page he’d been reading. Frowning, I double-checked the title before turning my head.

  “Everything in this library to read, and you chose this? Seriously, Knox,” I muttered, noting the page he’d been reading. He sat back on his mountain of pillows and studied me as I read about, well, me. “Of all the beautiful tomes in this place and you read about me? I’m flattered.”

  Aria Primrose Hecate, born to Freya Hecate, the firstborn female of Hecate. Aria’s father is unknown, her bloodline pure and untainted, and yet tests could not conclude which secondary bloodline created Aria or Amara. Unlike Freya’s other daughters, Aria spends her time in isolation, learning her craft with diligence and intelligence the others in the line do not possess. She is clean of male influence, having been able to ignore the fae males who used their magic on her at the tender age of ten.

  She marked among the highest scale of magic and possesses a darkness mixed with light magic that is both worrisome and intriguing and should be monitored. More tests are needed to learn the father’s bloodline. Still, without Freya agreeing to them, it will need to wait until Aria has fully entered into puberty, which is onset and developing slower than the average witch. This should also be closely monitored.