Read Online Reckless Revenge: Book Four (Spellbound 4) by Sherry Soule - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sherry Soule
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whining. And Trent would never hurt me.
“Not unless you’re planning on sprouting fur, growing fangs, and biting me.” Putting on a brave face, I marched past him into the cave. “Let’s just go. It’s getting late.”
The passage only stretched wide enough for us to walk single file, and so low in some areas that Trent had to stoop after cracking his head on the ceiling.
“Ouch,” he muttered, rubbing his skull.
I was about to shush him, when I was struck with a major case of claustrophobia. This sucked. I seriously deserved something for my troubles, like chocolate or a foot massage.
As darkness enfolded us, my confident performance dwindled, and I let him lead the way deeper inside the cavern. The only light came from the flashlight in Trent’s hand. My attention zoned in on the batteries. If they died or if Trent dropped it, we’d be cast into complete blackness. The gloom of the cave was suddenly the dead of night, hollow and stale. Not exactly the mood lighting I’d wished for. The beam of the flashlight bounced as we walked, touching every wall, crack, and crevice.
Halfway inside the cave, I had to muster some courage to conquer the screaming flood of terror that threatened to take me over. My fight-or-flight response kicked in and it leaned violently toward the latter. I might be somewhat tough, but when faced with utter darkness, I was all about the flight.
I braced a hand on the damp wall and closed my eyes. My heart flew into my throat. I drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm my nerves.
Trent stopped and twisted around. “Are you okay?”
Am I okay? No, I wasn’t. I put my hands on my thighs. My breath came out in shallow gasps.
I slid down the wall and hugged my knees. “Can we get outta here?” My voice sounded squeaky, as if I was on the brink of a full-blown panic attack. “Please?”
“What’s wrong?” Trent squatted beside me and set the flashlight on the ground. It rolled away and a wave of pitch-black shrouded us.
“Grab the light!” My hand clamped over his forearm. “I need the light!”
Trent reached for the flashlight. “Here. Relax.” He handed it to me and my fingers tightly clutched our only light source. I closed my eyes and breathed.
In...one...two...three...
Out...one...two...three...
I opened my eyes and whispered, “I’ve never told anyone this…but I suffer from nyctophobia—it’s a phobia of the dark. I even sleep with a nightlight. Stupid, huh?”
Just saying it aloud made me feel silly and childish.
“No.” He kissed my forehead. “It’s cool. Just wait here then, I’ll go—”
I jerked on his sleeve. “No! I’m not staying here alone.” I stood on shaky legs. My fingers ached, gripping the smooth metal of the flashlight so hard I probably left dents on the handle. I needed to get it together.
You’re tougher than this—dammit!
The pep talk helped some. Swallowing some of the irrational fear, I had enough resolve to go on. I just wanted to do the right thing. To fight evil and protect my hometown. And my friends.
Trent held my hand and led us deeper into the cave. The walls dripped slimy moisture and the cold seemed like a weight that seeped through skin and bone. I told myself to stay calm—not to freak out. Trent was a hunter and he knew martial arts. Which meant he could obviously handle himself. I should be safe with him.
I bumped into Trent’s back and stumbled. “Hey! Why’d you—”
“Shhh,” he said, putting a finger to his lips.
I peered around him and lowered the flashlight. The passage had widened and formed a cavernous room, the floor obscured by the bones of dismembered animal carcasses. The soft snores from a sleeping lycan bounced off the walls.
Correction, three sleeping lycans.
“Gotcha,” Trent whispered.
Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.
My heart pounded like thunder. My arms and legs stopped functioning and my vision squashed to a pinhole.
I recognized one of the three lycans. The same gray
“Not unless you’re planning on sprouting fur, growing fangs, and biting me.” Putting on a brave face, I marched past him into the cave. “Let’s just go. It’s getting late.”
The passage only stretched wide enough for us to walk single file, and so low in some areas that Trent had to stoop after cracking his head on the ceiling.
“Ouch,” he muttered, rubbing his skull.
I was about to shush him, when I was struck with a major case of claustrophobia. This sucked. I seriously deserved something for my troubles, like chocolate or a foot massage.
As darkness enfolded us, my confident performance dwindled, and I let him lead the way deeper inside the cavern. The only light came from the flashlight in Trent’s hand. My attention zoned in on the batteries. If they died or if Trent dropped it, we’d be cast into complete blackness. The gloom of the cave was suddenly the dead of night, hollow and stale. Not exactly the mood lighting I’d wished for. The beam of the flashlight bounced as we walked, touching every wall, crack, and crevice.
Halfway inside the cave, I had to muster some courage to conquer the screaming flood of terror that threatened to take me over. My fight-or-flight response kicked in and it leaned violently toward the latter. I might be somewhat tough, but when faced with utter darkness, I was all about the flight.
I braced a hand on the damp wall and closed my eyes. My heart flew into my throat. I drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm my nerves.
Trent stopped and twisted around. “Are you okay?”
Am I okay? No, I wasn’t. I put my hands on my thighs. My breath came out in shallow gasps.
I slid down the wall and hugged my knees. “Can we get outta here?” My voice sounded squeaky, as if I was on the brink of a full-blown panic attack. “Please?”
“What’s wrong?” Trent squatted beside me and set the flashlight on the ground. It rolled away and a wave of pitch-black shrouded us.
“Grab the light!” My hand clamped over his forearm. “I need the light!”
Trent reached for the flashlight. “Here. Relax.” He handed it to me and my fingers tightly clutched our only light source. I closed my eyes and breathed.
In...one...two...three...
Out...one...two...three...
I opened my eyes and whispered, “I’ve never told anyone this…but I suffer from nyctophobia—it’s a phobia of the dark. I even sleep with a nightlight. Stupid, huh?”
Just saying it aloud made me feel silly and childish.
“No.” He kissed my forehead. “It’s cool. Just wait here then, I’ll go—”
I jerked on his sleeve. “No! I’m not staying here alone.” I stood on shaky legs. My fingers ached, gripping the smooth metal of the flashlight so hard I probably left dents on the handle. I needed to get it together.
You’re tougher than this—dammit!
The pep talk helped some. Swallowing some of the irrational fear, I had enough resolve to go on. I just wanted to do the right thing. To fight evil and protect my hometown. And my friends.
Trent held my hand and led us deeper into the cave. The walls dripped slimy moisture and the cold seemed like a weight that seeped through skin and bone. I told myself to stay calm—not to freak out. Trent was a hunter and he knew martial arts. Which meant he could obviously handle himself. I should be safe with him.
I bumped into Trent’s back and stumbled. “Hey! Why’d you—”
“Shhh,” he said, putting a finger to his lips.
I peered around him and lowered the flashlight. The passage had widened and formed a cavernous room, the floor obscured by the bones of dismembered animal carcasses. The soft snores from a sleeping lycan bounced off the walls.
Correction, three sleeping lycans.
“Gotcha,” Trent whispered.
Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.
My heart pounded like thunder. My arms and legs stopped functioning and my vision squashed to a pinhole.
I recognized one of the three lycans. The same gray
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