Her Three Wicked Mates

chapter 5

Elara'S POV

The next six days blurred together in a haze of long hours, dodging Garrick, and celebrating Yule alone. I’d spent every spare minute hunting for a witch powerful enough to break the tracking enchantment on this stupid ring. Olympia had witches plenty, actually but none with the skill I needed, at least not within my price range.

I shut the farmhouse door behind me and leaned against it, letting out a long breath. What a week. Who knew normal life could be this exhausting? Even without the constant threat of packing up and disappearing again, even without taking care of my brother on a shoestring budget, Garrick alone was enough to drive me absolutely insane. Part of me almost missed my stalker’s dramatic deliveries, the gold-and-black boxes, the cryptic warnings. At least that danger was familiar.

My phone vibrated. Garrick’s name lit the screen. I groaned but answered anyway. “Hello.”

“Beautiful,” he said, far too cheerful. “I’m sending a car to get you in half an hour.”

“Tonight isn’t good for ”

“Don’t.” His voice snapped cold. “You’re coming out with me. It’s an important dinner, and you’re going to behave.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked, too tired to hide my irritation. “What then?”

“Let me put it this way,” he said, voice smooth and poisonous. “You have no one, Elara. And that’s exactly who would look for you if you went missing. No one. Girls disappear all the time. It would be a tragedy if you became one of them. Then I couldn’t marry you.”

A sharp breath caught in my throat. “I hate you.”

“I know,” he said lightly. “But you’re perfect.” A low chuckle. “Now get ready. Wear something sexy. The car will be there soon.”

“I’ll drive myself.”

“Fine.” He sighed as though I was the inconvenience. “Basilico Ristorante. Eight. Don’t be late.” He hung up.

I stared at the blank screen. Every instinct screamed. Run, hide, vanish my usual pattern, my survival method for years. But I was tired of living like prey. This time, things needed to be handled differently.

I hurried upstairs to change. I’d go tonight. I’d put on the black dress, smile, and play the part a little longer. But Garrick was not my destiny. He was powerful, sure but power meant nothing. Everyone died eventually. If I couldn’t end him myself, my stalker or those hunters would likely get to him first.

A memory flickered, one of the worst.

Years ago, one of those cursed boxes had appeared at my work with a note:

Elara, don’t go home. Leave now.

I’d been twenty-three, cocky, convinced I could outsmart anything. I’d called Orion out of school and sent him to a safe location. But I couldn’t reach the two friends we were staying with. I ignored the note and rushed home.

They were dead. Throats slit. Blood everywhere.

I’d barely escaped the attack long enough to grab Orion and run. Their deaths still haunted me. I’d brought danger to them. Their blood was on my hands.

Shaking off the memory, I pulled on black panties and a bra, then the dress. Other than my locket and this cursed ring I owned no jewelry. I brushed my long brown hair and pinned it into a loose bun, dabbed on makeup, and headed downstairs.

The heels went on, then the faux-fur coat Garrick had gifted me for Yule. I grabbed my keys and headed to my ancient Subaru. The engine groaned in protest but, eventually, surrendered and started. I pulled out onto the road toward downtown Olympia.

Night blanketed the city as I wound along the steep roads overlooking Capitol Lake, the water glimmering under park lights. It was one of the prettiest places I’d ever lived.

My phone buzzed again. I clicked it to the speaker. “Hello?”

“Good evening. I’m trying to reach Elara Vance?”

My breath hitched. “This is her.”

“I’m calling from AKaelenmy Obscura. Orion and several others left on a camping trip last week. According to his friends, Orion has gone missing. Is he with you?”

The world dropped out from under me. Missing? Had the camping trip been a trap?

“Ma’am?”

“No. No, he isn’t here. What happened?”

My fingers clutched my locket, rubbing the metal like a prayer.

“There was a dare,” the caller explained. “Orion didn’t return. The others thought he was joking, but when they got back to their lodging, he still hadn’t appeared. They became concerned and contacted us. A rescue party is searching now.”

Panic clawed up my throat. No. No, no, no.

“Where were they camping?” I asked.

“Banner Forest Park, near Long Lake.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, already pulling up directions.

Banner Forest was less than an hour away. Rescue party or not, I needed to get there. I needed to find my brother.

I blew past downtown and merged onto I-5 North, then Highway 16. My mind ran through what I had with me: my go-bag with my pills, rain boots, half a tank of gas. Enough, if I had to teleport out with Orion.

Forty minutes later, I turned down a narrow lane toward Long Lake. Evergreen trees crowded both sides, heavy with snow. My remaining headlight struggled to cut through the dark.

Garrick called again. I rejected it. If he wanted to chase me using the ring’s tracking spell, fine. Let him. Another minute later, voicemail. I ignored it.

Fog rolled in densely, unnaturally. The temperature dropped suddenly, and I shivered. The heater whined, then sputtered. I smacked the dashboard, coaxing it back to life.

My phone flashed No Signal.

Shit.

I slowed to ten miles an hour, inching through blinding snow. Any minute now, I should reach the park entrance or the T-intersection at the end. But nothing appeared. The road stretched on and on, impossibly long for a ten-mile stretch.

Then a faint glow ahead. A house? I must’ve taken a wrong turn. Maybe whoever lived there could direct me.

Iron gates opened silently as the Subaru crawled forward. A massive stone mansion rose in the center of a lamp-lit clearing, its walls harsh and imposing. Three stories of cold, ancient stone. A strange chill rippled over my skin.

The car sputtered, rattled, and died.

“Oh, come on,” I muttered, turning the key. Nothing. Dead.

Stranded.

I stared out at the mansion, snow swirling in the wind. A few windows glowed on the top floor. Someone was home. Hopefully someone normal.

I reached back for the rain boots and swapped out my heels. Then, bracing myself, I stepped into the storm. Wind bit through the faux fur. I drew my wand and cast a small protective bubble to shield myself as I crossed the garden gate.

Vines twisted up tall trellises. A flash of red caught my eye. Blooming. In winter.

A bad sign. A very bad sign.

Magic clung to this place, wrong and heavy. But I had no choice. Magic couldn’t fix a dead car, and freezing to death wasn’t an option.

I climbed the front steps and tucked my wand away. The bubble faded. No sense looking threatening with a wand in my hand.

I lifted the heavy iron gargoyle-shaped knocker and rapped on the door. The cold bit through my coat as I shifted from foot to foot, waiting.

“What do we have here?” a rough voice asked behind me.

I jumped and spun, but before I could reach for my wand, vines shot from the ground and wrapped around my arms and legs. Fae magic. The pressure crushed my lungs; I couldn’t even scream.

Two thugs approached. The vines released me as they grabbed me. One snatched off my coat, rifled through it, and took my wand. The other bound my wrists.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, struggling.

“Whatever we want, trespasser,” one sneered. “Who do you work for?”

“What? I work at a bookstore!”

They exchanged a look of disbelief. “The bosses will want to see her.”

I yelped as one slung me over his shoulder. I kicked uselessly as he carried me inside, my dress riding up embarrassingly high.

A smack on my exposed ass. Laughter.

Then he dropped me abruptly onto my feet. I glared up at him with brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smile. I memorized every detail. Revenge was a powerful motivator.

“Walk,” he ordered.

They marched me down two flights of stairs. The air grew foul, rotting, damp, suffocating. I tried breathing through my mouth, but it barely helped. Lanterns cast green magical flames along the stone walls. Shadows flickered like grasping hands.

At the bottom, we turned into another corridor lined with wood-and-iron-barred doors.

A dungeon.

A real one.

My heart was hammered. What had I walked into?

The smell grew worse and more sour, decaying. They dragged me to the end of a short hallway and shoved me into a cell. Metal clanked as the second thug secured a chain to my cuffs. The chain pulled tight, forcing my arms high above me until my shoulders screamed.

The blue-eyed Fae patted my cheek, smirking, before they left.

I stood shaking, breath shallow and ragged. Chained to a wall. In a dungeon. In the middle of nowhere. The only person who could track me was Garrick.

I was so unbelievably screwed.

I just prayed Orion wasn’t here too. Had I stumbled into the hunters’ lair?

Gods help us both.