Chapter 2

The wind shrieked like a living thing, rattling the windows as Veronica stood rooted to the threshold. It was still too recent for her to forget the deep, guttural howl that had resounded through the trees just an instant earlier and throbbed in her bones now, electrifying her nerves with confusion. "Inside. Now,” Aunt Vivianne said, a note in her voice that brooked no argument. She seized Veronica by the wrist, her nails digging into the soft skin, and yanked her inside. The door closed behind them with a bang, and the house appeared to exhale, as though it was relieved. Veronica squirmed her wrist loose, heart racing. "What the hell was that?" she demanded. Vivianne’s piercing blue eyes scrutinized her as hesitation crossed her face, and she spasmodically turned away. “Nothing for you to worry about tonight.” But Veronica knew a lie when she heard it. The house smelled of old books, of herbs, and of something metallic lurking beneath. A fire crackled in the hearth, throwing flickering shadows on high walls. You pulled up, and the place was like something from another century, absolutely frozen in time. And yet, for all its dismal strangeness, she felt… safer within than she had outside in the mist-stifled town. Until the knocking started. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative. It was a deep, thudding pound against the wooden door, as if something—or someone—was demanding to come in. Aunt Vivianne went quiet, her spine stiff. "Go upstairs, Veronica. Now." Veronica didn’t move. "Who" "Go!" Vivianne hissed, pushing her toward the stairs. The pounding grew louder. More insistent. Then a low growl emanated from the other side of the door. A noise too deep, too guttural, too inhuman. Veronica’s breath caught in her throat, her legs frozen to the ground. She thought she saw the doorframe shake. Vivianne seized a long, hand-carved dagger from the mantle and spun to the door. "Don’t come out until I say." Veronica wanted to protest, but the authority alone in Vivianne’s voice found her feet moving, her mind lagging behind. She ran up the stairs, her heart racing, and slipped into the first room she could find. The instant she closed the door, there was the crash of splintering wood and an enraged growl from below. And then A scream. Her scent surrounded him, slicking his senses like oil, loosening his hold on himself like strands of a rope unraveling. Damien had observed her from the shadows, barely containing the impulse to pounce, to take, to claim. The instant he had caught her scent on the wind, his body had known her to be his. Mate. One he should have had no business knowing, one that had betrayed him once already. And yet, here she was. Human. Fragile. His. And someone else had smelled her as well. The beast that had slammed into the house wasn’t one of his kind. It was something more, a creature that had no business being inside the borders of Ravenshire. A rogue. A killer. A threat. And then, snarling, Damien leaped from the shadows. His bones snapped, settling as masses of fur burst from his skin, his hands stretching into claws, fangs protruding past his lips. The monster within him cried out for brutality, for blood. For her. He barreled through the door, a force of nature and mountain of a man, his bulk between the intruder and the quaking female hands clutching a dagger. The rogue angled its glowing eyes at him. It drew a twisted grin that pulled back its lips, exposing jagged, bloodstained teeth. “She smells lovely,” the creature rasped. Damien didn't respond. He attacked. Upstairs, Veronica covered her mouth to stop her sobs from spilling over her lips; the ragged breaths came bubbling out of her nonetheless, all the while the battle raged on below her feet. With each impact, the walls shook, their snarls and growls weaving together like some nightmarish symphony. And then Silence. The sort that raised goosebumps on the back of her neck. A shuffling sound came from the stairs. Slow. Measured. And getting closer. Veronica felt her pulse throbbing in her ears. She grabbed something—anything—to defend herself with. She grasped the cool stem of an iron lamp. The door creaked open. And there he stood. Tall. Bare-chested. His skin smeared in blood, eyes wild and alien, molten gold burning. It looked like something born of both nightmares and temptation.” Well, Veronica’s breath caught in her throat. "What the hell?" Before she could even finish, Damien was in front of her, his movement impossibly fast. One minute he was across the room. Next, he had her pressed against the wall, his body tight up against hers, hot. His gaze dropped to her lips. "You shouldn't be here." Her heart pounded against her ribs. "Neither should you." A flicker in his eyes: conflict, hunger, possession. His fingertips dug into the skin at her waist as he pushed her back onto the cold wood. She felt every rigid inch of him, the raw power coiled tight under his skin. Then his mouth was on her mouth. The kiss was fire and fury, teeth and tongues colliding, bruising. She sucked in a breath against him, but he didn’t let up. His hand tightened, his breath shallow as he dragged his mouth down the curve of her jaw, biting at the delicate skin of her throat. Her body betrayed her, heat pooling low, thighs clenching of their own accord. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled against her neck. Veronica stiffened, gripping his arms. "Then show me." He took a deep, shuddering breath and crushed his mouth to hers once more, this time with more desperation. But just as he began to lose himself in her, a voice interrupted. "Damien. Let her go. Now." Aunt Vivianne. Damien was suddenly a rock, immobile and straight. He didn’t let go immediately; his hands lingered just a tick longer than required before he finally stepped back, muscles straining with restraint. Veronica’s head spun. Her body longed for something she could not name. Vivianne's gaze was steel. "There’s no time for this. We have bigger problems." Damien let out a harsh breath and ran a hand through his bloodied hair. "I know. They're coming." Vivianne nodded. "Then we need to prepare." Veronica glanced back and forth between the two of them, confusion battling with the still lingering heat in her veins. "Prepare for what?" Vivianne’s face was grim. "For war." And that’s when the night swallowed them whole.