When his boy is taken from him, Leviathan will do anything to get him back…even if it means burning down the world.
Trapped in an inescapable prison—Leviathan should know, he designed it himself—he only has one chance for freedom. And with his bonded taken by his ex-boyfriend, the sadistic Puck, there’s no time to waste. But Puck’s plan is bigger than just revenge, and there’s more at stake than Leviathan realizes. Saving his boy might mean dooming the world.
Eryn watched Leviathan—his Master, his Daddy—get stabbed in the back by a stranger, and there was nothing he could do to help. Taken by the old wix and with his life on the line, he has no choice but to find a way to escape on his own. But what is he supposed to do when he escapes one danger by running right into the arms of another?
Aries doesn’t want to keep his best friend locked up, and he definitely doesn’t want to see anything happen to his best friend’s bonded, but as a federal agent, he has to do what he can to keep the peace—especially once he learns of an upcoming threat more dangerous than anyone is prepared for.
Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence, bloodshed and death.
General Release Date: 9th January 2024
Pet
“Enjoy your last few days of life. It ends on the solstice.”
The old wix’s voice rattles around my brain like a pinball, making it hard to think. The solstice? I whimper as I realize it’s only three days away, on the first night of Goddess Moon’s visit.
“Oh, stop your whining. It’s not like your miserable existence is worth much, anyway. You should be thanking me.” The old wix grabs for me, and I flinch back, but I only manage to scramble away a few feet. He’s faster than he should be, considering his condition, and my hair is a liability.
He gets his gnarled fingers tangled in it easily, and he jerks me to a halt. It wrenches my neck and I yelp, lifting my hands instinctively to try to relieve the pressure. He drags me back toward him, a nasty smile on his face. “Go ahead. Say ‘thank you, Puck,’ for ending your poor, cowardly little life.”
I shake my head—or try to—tears spilling down my cheeks as I feel several strands of hair separate from my scalp. I’m not thanking him for this. I’m not, no matter what he does to me. I need to stay strong—for myself, but also for Daddy.
“You know,” the wix muses, lifting his other hand to my face. His fingers are scratchy and rough, and they reek like rotten eggs. “Daddy has always had good taste.”
Something about the way he says it makes the panic in my chest grow even stronger. I try again to pull away, but he clamps his fingers into my cheeks, keeping me in place. His nails are long and sharp.
“Stop squirming, dog,” Puck snaps, and no matter how frail he looks, he’s clearly stronger than I am. He uses his weight to push me down farther.
I’m forced to let go of the grip I had in my hair—the only thing stopping his grip from becoming unbearable—to catch myself, crying out as my palms land on something hard and sharp, like gravel.
Thankfully, he lets go of my hair. Before I can do more than breathe a sigh of relief, he slides his dirty, wrinkled fingers over my lips. I clamp them shut, biting my teeth together so hard my jaw aches.
“Open up, puppy dog. Show me your pretty pearly whites,” the wix says in a creepy, sing-song voice. I try to shake my head, unwilling to open my mouth. I only budge it a fraction of inches, but it’s enough to get my point across.
If he wants my mouth open, he’s going to have to make me. I’m not doing it for him.
Puck just laughs. “So you do have a spine. I was beginning to wonder. I knew Daddy couldn’t have changed that much in only ten years.” The wix pauses, lowering his brows for a moment. “Eleven?” After a second, he shrugs, his rheumy eyes meeting mine again. “Either way, we’re going to have fun together, mutt. I’ve always wanted to play with Daddy’s toys… It’s just a pity for you that I’ve never quite learned to play nice.”
Then he smiles, and every one of his yellow teeth is a caution sign.
He shoves me again, forcing me to my back, then he plants his foot on my chest. The tread of his boot bites into my skin, reminding me of my nudity. I try to cover my penis, but he shifts his foot to kick my hand away, threatening to crush it under the heavy sole until I yank it back.
“No point in hiding, dog. Not much there to hide anyway, is there?” He stares pointedly at my crotch, and despite the chill in the warehouse sending goosebumps across my skin, I feel myself heat with embarrassment.
I’ve been naked before, many times. It’s a part of life for us werewolves and not something I’ve ever been ashamed of. But the only person who has ever looked at me like that was Daddy, and it had never felt like this. The derision, the judgment…making me feel small and worthless.
Making me feel dirty.
A lump forms in my throat, threatening to choke me, and I force myself to swallow it, though tears burn my eyes. I need to stay strong for Daddy. Levi’s going to find me, and when he does, I can’t be broken. He won’t want me then.
He won’t want you now. The thought hits me too quick to ward against, and my flinch is hard.
The wix laughs, grinding his foot on my chest again. I try to dislodge him but I’m weak—too weak to fight free from an old man. Maybe Beta was right all those times he’d told me I was worthless, useless, a drain on the pack resources.
Maybe I should have just let him kill me then.
Immediately, my wolf revolts inside me. I might feel like giving up, but he’s not ready to die yet. He snaps his teeth at my ribcage, and I can almost hear him snarling at me to pull myself together.
“You’re pathetic,” I say, desperate to distract the wix. Maybe if I get him angry enough, he’ll beat me instead. “No wonder Daddy didn’t want you anymore.”
His fingers freeze on the clasp of his dirty brown robe. “What did you say?” Puck’s voice sends ice down my spine, but I lick my lips and repeat myself.
“I…I said you’re pathetic, and Daddy was right to…to kick you out. You’re just jealous he doesn’t want you anymore.” My own voice is shaky, and I think he must realize I’m stalling for time, because the anger on his face morphs to a smirk instead.
“Aw, so the widdle puppy has teeth, does he? Leaving Daddy—and I left him, I’ll have you know—was the best thing I ever did for myself. If I’d stayed, I’d be nothing more than his cumdump. Just a hole, like you. Now, let’s see if your hole is as good for me as it is for Daddy.”
* * * *
Daddy
The goons from the BAA are less than careful as they transport me down the elevator and into the black van waiting outside. Granted, my body is essentially living stone at this point, so the few knocks to the head I get don’t hurt, but they do stoke the flames of my anger.
Every second they take to remove the tourmaline stake is a second longer it’s going to take for me to metabolize the toxin and regain the ability to move—which means it’s another second longer my boy is stuck with that…that…
I can’t even think of a strong enough insult.
The Puck I saw today was not the one from my memories. If he hadn’t dared lay a finger on Eryn, I might have felt pity for what he’s turned into. When he’d fled a decade ago, he’d been a youthful twenty-nine, though even then I’d started to see the signs that he was reaching the limits of his magic.
I’d tried warning him, but he’d refused to listen, always pushing himself too much, too fast…using magic for things he could have done without. Always pestering me to borrow my Focus, then pouting when I refused.
Puck wouldn’t listen when I tried to explain that the tool was only that…a tool. It could help direct magical energy more efficiently, but it didn’t create magic. It still had to pull from somewhere.
For me, it isn’t a problem. My own magic is boundless—gathered from the air around me and the blood I drink, replenishing itself faster than I could ever hope to use it. The Focus just lets me direct that energy into spells. Without it, I’m basically an overcharged battery, too powerful for anyone to tap.
For him, though… I suspect I know what happened. I’d bet my liver that he’d tried channeling too much energy through the Focus. Now look what it did to him—an old man at nearly forty.
I hate to think what he could be doing to my precious Eryn right at this second. He’d always been a jealous boy—and a selfish one, too. Constantly throwing tantrums, teasing the servants…anything he could think of to get my attention, except asking for it.
The final straw in our relationship had been when I’d caught him experimenting on one of my feeders in the hopes of stealing her magic. I’ll never forget the poor selkie’s face. She’d died shortly afterward.
He’d insisted it had been for ‘research’ and that the breakthrough would revolutionize magic use forever. I’d called it torture. If only I hadn’t let my feelings for him blind me. I’d thought it love, then, but now, after my time with Eryn, I’m not so sure. I’d believed him when he said he would go peacefully with the BAA for sentencing if I just kissed him one last time. Everything in me had said it was a bad idea, but I’d ignored my instincts.
Then, he’d staked me with tourmaline before stealing my Focus and fleeing, leaving me to rot. If Maggie hadn’t found me the next morning, who knows how long it would have taken me to recover.
If he’d been willing to skin that poor selkie just to see what her magic would do, what is he doing to Eryn right now?
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