Read Online Desires of the Otherworld 2: Darkest Hunger by Aline Hunter - Free Book Online

protest further when Dominic silenced her with a deep kiss. She forgot what she wanted to say then, tugging at his shirt. Instead of protesting, he helped, ripping the obstructive garment from his torso. Then she realized he needed the intimacy of being with her just as much as she did. She allowed herself to forget about the ongoing war between Lycae and vampire, pushing aside horrible thoughts about what could happen to her best friend if they didn’t intercede on her behalf in time.
    At that moment, there was only Dominic.

Chapter Six
     
    Bridon started to become concerned for his Chosen midway through their first night of travel. Staring over his shoulder, he observed her closely.
    Willow was quiet… too quiet.
    It began the moment he returned to their bedroom and discovered her sitting on a tapestry lounge chair, dressed in blue jeans and a formfitting white cotton T-shirt, ready for travel. He assumed she would ask questions.
    She didn’t.
    Instead, she adhered to his requests without speaking, followed him dutifully down the hallway and staircase, and strode past his servants and kindred with her head held high. She didn’t speak to any of them—though they addressed her in friendly and curious gestures—nor did she acknowledge anyone in any other fashion. She simply did as instructed, grunted when asked questions, or answered with a simple yes or no when prodded for more information.
    After loading up cargo for travel and mounting the pandemonium nightmares—ancient horses used by some for travel in the Otherworld—she’d settled into her saddle, and the silence had become deafening. Hours had passed, and he wanted to hear something—anything—from his Chosen. Even if it was nothing more than a mindless raging for his being a blood drinker and a leech.
    Sensing his distress, Ian communicated with him telepathically, although Ian’s voice was weak and strained. “All is well?”
    “More of the same,” Bridon thought back, knowing it was wrong to continue conversing with his friend but needing the sound of something to ease the eerie and unnatural quiet. It was taxing for a telepath to communicate across large distances, draining both physically and mentally.
    “She’s still in shock.”
    “I know.”
    He could hear the exhaustion in his friend’s voice. “Be patient. When she learns the truth, she’ll come to you willingly.”
    Feeling tired himself, he responded, “I hope you’re right, old friend.”
    Ian’s voice was weaker, barely audible. “I must rest, but if you have need of me, I will hear.”
    “Rest well,” he thought back and cursed the lethargy that came from using his blood-inherited telepathy.
    He returned his attention to Willow and watched as she lifted her right hand to the collar at her throat and inflicted intentional harm on herself. She held on until the pain was too much, let go, and lifted her blistered fingers for inspection before allowing them to fall. He knew she would repeat the process the moment the skin started to heal. Just as she had done time and time again.
    “Why do you harm yourself, Willow?”
    A shrug was the only answer he received.
    Frustrated, he stopped his mount, tossed his leg aside, and slid from the saddle. He grabbed the reins and walked to Willow’s horse. Taking her mount by the bit, he guided them to an expanse of trees. When the nightmares were tethered, he pulled Willow from her seat.
    The moment her feet hit the ground, she came to life. “Why do I harm myself?” She wrapped her hands around his arms and met his gaze. “Because I can’t do this instead.”
    She stomped on his toe, brought her leg back as he staggered, and slammed her knee into his balls. He groaned as he fought to remain standing, cupping himself when she released him and started running into the trees.
    Fates, it hurt. Even without her natural strength, a shot to the crotch was never a good thing. He took a deep breath, lowered his arms, and took off after her.