Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)

“That’s impossible,” I said. “You can’t have me any longer. I told you it’s over.”


“Oh, but it isn’t. And I can. You’ve hidden many things from Waleron, including the pregnancy. You can hide this, too.”

Months of hell, running, pregnant and alone. When I couldn’t run any longer—hiding. “And if I say screw you?”

He hesitated, as if making certain he had my full attention. “Then I kill your child,” Liam said, his expression waiting for my reaction.

“My child is dead. You just said so yourself. I miscarried.” What the hell was he playing at?

He chuckled. “I see your perplexity. To be expected, of course. It was a long time ago.” He shrugged. “You see, you don’t know if I’m lying, and yet, as a mother, you can’t take the chance that I’m not.” His fingers bit into my waist. “But, my love, I will have the witch. And if you don’t find a way to bring her to me alive after detox—then I will kill your very much alive child.”

No. No, he was lying. I’d seen my baby born. They’d shown me the body. “You’re lying.”

“Perhaps.” His hand slid up my arm and caressed the back of my neck. I went to pull away, but his grip tightened. “But think about it, Delara. How did I know about your pregnancy? How did I know you carried until the eighth month?”

My knees gave out and I would’ve collapsed if it wasn’t for his arm around my waist. His teeth nipped the tip of my ear before he said, “Tell your friends to keep the witch alive and I will keep your child alive. I think that’s a fair exchange.”

Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed several times. No. God, please no. Please, this would destroy Waleron. I wanted desperately for it to be true, but it couldn’t be. It was impossible.

But I felt like a piece of glass breaking into tiny fragments.

Oh God. I choked back a sob.

“I’m curious as to how long before I see Waleron at my door?” He stroked his finger down my arm. “How long before he tries to rescue his love from my bed? How long before he discovers the truth?”





I THREW OPEN THE car door of the Audi a block away from the club. “In,” I said, blocking her path back toward the bouncer. I didn’t trust her not to try and run back for a taste of blood. From the hungry look in her eyes as she hovered over the bouncer, she was ravenous.

What the fuck had I gotten myself into? Hell was an understatement.

She paused before getting in the car. “Damien…” Her voice trailed off at my scowl. Then she climbed in and my eyes skimmed from her ankles up to her thighs. Those fuckin’ great thighs that had been wrapped around my hips numerous times as I fucked her against the wall, in the chair, shower, bed, floor, against the window of the hotel room.

Jesus, I cursed beneath my breath. Thinking about her legs and ass is what had landed me into this mess in the first place.

I slammed the car door.

How was I supposed to live with this chick with those memories fucking with my mind?

I fished the keys out of my jeans front pocket and folded in the other side. I started the engine, shoved it into gear, and peeled out of the alley.

I’d rather be in the arms of Hades than stuck in this car with a chick I’d stupidly fucked. It was like being trapped with a woman in a coffin that was nailed shut—my worst nightmare. Then add in to the mix the woman wanted to sink her teeth into my neck and drink my blood.

The Abby I’d met that day in the grocery store was indistinguishable now. I glanced at her and noticed how pale she was and there were dark circles under her eyes. Also missing was that sexy, feisty smile that made my cock hard.

It had been fucked up how attracted I’d been to her, since I rarely paid attention to women. I couldn’t say what it was or why I decided to spend those two days locked between her legs. Delicious though it was, it had been a mistake, one I was now paying for.

I swore we’d used condoms every time we’d fucked. I never fucked a chick without one. But we’d done it so many times, I wasn’t sure anymore.

But the reason I didn’t remember about the condoms was because I’d never been that out of control with a woman. It had been this driving need to take her again and again.

Irresistible. Raw. Wild.

And fuckin’ stupid.

I knew better than to fuck a goddamn witch. One who was young, unbelievably sexy, and a smart-ass.

Jedrik must have enjoyed himself sending me that email with the subject line ‘Condom fail.’ I thought it was a joke.

Then shock, disbelief, and, finally, fury simmered for the flight back to Toronto, only to emerge when I met Jedrik at Keir’s and got the full lowdown on Abby’s situation.

Why the hell would she drink vampire blood? It didn’t make sense. Did she want to be a vampire? Be Liam’s fuckin’ slave?