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All Chapters of Night of the Rogues: Bound In Darkness: Chapter 51
- Chapter 60
111 Chapters
51. Cyrus
I’m more nervous about this than anything else we’ve done together in the last twelve hours. Alone, just us, I feel like a king. Like the past really could be forgiven. Every time I call her angel, I see the pink, hazy lust flicker across her iris, and I lose all control. My sense of right and wrong evaporates. All that matters is her happiness.I should probably tell she’s the only girl I’ve ever actually knotted. The only girl I’ve ever spoken to like that. There was no other angel before her. It’s not some repetitive thing I liked saying to women. She brings out this side to me that I always thought needed locking away. My wolf is so proud of her. He preens and acts like he's the strongest alpha in town, all to impress Mireille.When she said she wanted to be called an angel, encouraging me with those flush little cheeks, I had to warn my wolf not to knot her again. Only because I don’t want to make her sore. Shifter healing is remarkable, but it’s not infallible. Otherwise, I’d
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52. Mireille
Cyrus was meant to die. The stew was rigged for him, and the realisation left me breathless. I stare as Cyrus kneels down, trying to help Brody. I know he shouted at me to run, but I am trapped in limbo, surrounded by howls and screams. Struggling to my feet, finding a table for support, I slowly walk around it, away from Brody’s twitching flinches. Silently wishing that backing away from the scene would make it less real. It didn’t stop Brody convulsing towards a painful, lingering death. In between Cyrus and I, Ryan cradles his brother's head, the red and white remnants of foam sputtering onto his pant legs. Rocking back and forth, he strokes Brody’s tattered blonde hair and kisses the dark shadows around his eyes. The closest family he has in the world murdered for nothing. Because Cyrus lacked a spoon and Brody was in a bad mood and couldn’t be bothered to get his own food. He’d been grouchy all day during our shift, but we hadn’t thought anything of it. Four months into life
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53. Hope
“We can fight later,” Cal had murmured before he fell back asleep. He was so infuriatingly right. We repeated the same arguments. Cal’s vicious need to spill blood versus my refusal to be part of it. We were at a stalemate but at the same time agreed on other things. Together we took action. Roughly searching through my fathers possessions I found paper and pens. Writing, “SEND REAL FOOD,” I slid it under the locked door. We even hi-fived as I flopped back into the bed alongside him. Together this bedroom has formed a strange mini-world, just the two of us. Sleeping, arguing, silently holding each other on repeat. When the scent of freshly cooked steaks, potatoes and vegetables wafts into the room Cal chuckles at how quickly I fly into getting the broken knife blade out of the door. “You’re doing that quicker than when I was trapped in here,” he pointed out sarcastically. “You…are not a steak,” I remind him tartly, on my knees fiddling with the lock. “Should have asked for panca
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54. Cal
It took being alone in the Howen’s room, separated from her heartbeat, scent, and infuriating attitude to realise I was holding onto nothing of value. Vengeance is just an empty-handed concept if it leaves me alone in a room like this. I’m not saying I wouldn’t take an excuse to beat Reu to a pulp, but if it came with the price of living like this, a bed with no spark, then what would I achieve? The rush of victory would soon diminish. Every passing day afterwards I’d feel less satisfied with my choice. Whereas I know every day with Hope will be a blessing. Whilst she showered, I rolled my damaged shoulder, lifting it up, squeezing my hand and returning it to the pillows. It's seriously improved. Just being around Hope is helping. Maybe my wolf is spurred on by the presence of hers, but something is definitely happening. Perhaps it’s eating proper food. That steak alone could resurrect the dead. Either way, when I saw her struggling with the thick, matted red locks, I was
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55. Mireille
After Ryan left and followed his master like a loyal mutt, I stayed on the floor for the longest time. Staring at the concrete floor until the cracks and moss started to merge before my eyes. I breathed huge gulps of air, hoping to clear the nausea. My limbs shook so much I worried Raze had managed to poison me too.He had fought Cyrus. That was obvious, but I could not see how he could beat him. There had been no gunshots, no large howls apart from that single one of Cyrus’ after I fled into my room. We’re not mates, but surely my heart, my wolf would know if something had happened.I just won’t accept it. There are too many questions.If everyone was in hiding like me, how the fuck did Raze get Cyrus’s body to the cold store? He might be an Alpha but it would take three, maybe four men to pick up a dead weight his size. He would have been sweating, struggling in the heat of this bunker to drag him in. Yet appeared at my door with barely a bead of sweat, just his one ragged wound.R
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56. Mireille
My lungs were burning, mouth lolling open in shock at Raze’s hissed evil. Dee and Quinn’s screaming overtook my senses. Suddenly Raze’s thick hand lifted from my neck. I wheezed violently, close to convulsing like Brody, rolling over and hacking.The two women had picked up the fallen blades and taken their vengeance. “You monster! You fucking monster!” Quinn raged, lifting the long silver blade up high like an executioner before plunging it into upper shoulder. Raze bellowed and roared but the two women had him pinned to the ground.Quinn screamed as Dee jabbed at his kidneys. “All the times I had to go to your fucking room! You evil, sick bastard!”No man stepped forward, though the other two women, Eila and Jo, were shouting and clapping for Quinn and Dee to finish him. Staggering to my feet, I glowered at the ten men before me. “You’re all cowards,” I croaked.In a hoarse, squeal of a voice I cried “Quinn, Dee!” and they paused, knives frozen mid-air. Raze was crying out in pain,
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57. Cyrus
I can’t believe Raze has won. I was so close. Thought I knew exactly what to do, chasing that little bubbling feeling in my stomach at the idea of finally triumphing over the smug bastard. After shifting, my wolf had swiftly chased down and flung around the bodies of his three idiots. They weren’t even a challenge. The night I tore apart Chase’s friends it was at least an exertion. After chasing the final one down the corridor and ripping his head clean off, there was silence. I silently padded down every corridor, searching for Raze. He hadn’t charged in with the others, and it drove me to distraction. I let out a deafening howl. I wanted him to know I’d obliterated his men. He could send the whole fucking pack down after me and I would take them on. The man I wanted was hiding like a coward. Reluctantly I shifted back to human. I needed a clear head combined with the ability to get through normal sized doors if I was going to track the fucker down. Returning to my room, I
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58. Cal
It wasn’t enough to worship her all night. The instant I woke up, I needed more. Still dozing, Hope's hair formed a shining cascade of fire across the bed and my chest. Nuzzling herself into me, her ass hit against my hip, and all real thinking vanished into thin air. Rolling over, I felt her sleepily murmur soft little noises, adjusting her shape to find me. Without hesitation, I rolled, wrapping my body around her warm little shape, spooning her close. The relief at feeling no pain in my shoulder was unreal. It also meant the same arm could slowly stroke up and down her leg under the blankets. Gradually stirring her breathing started to fall in time with the brushes of my hand, conducting my own personal symphony.When my finger trailed too close to her inner hip, she let out a little gasp of pleasure. “Morning Cal, now, just what do you think you’re doing,” she whispered with a sly smile, her eyes still closed. Instead of the soft, gentle Cal of last night, I feel restored, invi
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59. Hope
He did promise not to kill anyone. I had to cling to that oath as he openly snarled his way through the corridors. Even so, watching him stand over Elvie and Reu at their basic little bench, spoons slowly dropping back into their bowl in the face of his silent rage, my wolf was braced for something bad to happen. I can barely handle Cal when he is doing something good. My resistance disintegrates every single time. He could rip their heads off, flash me those eyes and that grin that makes me clench my legs together, and I doubt I’d even get a vague-sounding reprimand out. The way his dark eyes devoured me from the bedroom floor this morning almost melted me. It’s a tall ask to walk away from a man like him. To even pretend I wanted to head out of the bedroom and face everyone. Thighs like tree trunks, his torso basically a trophy cabinet of muscles. His wide frame could carry my weight at the drop of a hat. His shoulder was still bandaged, but judging by how my day began, he’s alm
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60. Cal
Elvie and Reu got the message. After that shitty back and forth in their creepy meeting room, everything started to settle into the same half-real way of living. The only real difference was Vera. Instead of pointlessly trying to seduce me, she had woken from her coma a tearful, guilt-filled mess. Ragged scars across her chest from Arlen’s self-defence and a mind broken by the loss of her brother. Hope volunteered to care for her. Arlen had tried, but his commitment to the injured Sol meant looking after two patients was too great a strain. Nobody said it, but I think all expectations were pinned on a return of the good, healing light produced by Elvie. If Sol could survive the Freeze. Drag his battered body out into the courtyard and pretend he wasn’t shot to pieces. For Vera, though, there was no such option. The light would probably remove the scars left by Arlen, but it was her mind that needed healing. Hope was more than willing to listen to her, feed, and bathe her. However
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