Haulcon's Revenge Read online

  HAULCON’S REVENGE

  A paranormal romance

  Yvette Hines

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission by the author.

  Haulcon’s Revenge

  Copyright © 2014, Yvette Hines

  Cover Artist: Taria Reed

  Editor: Bernadette Schane

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to eStore and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  DEDICATION

  To my readers who amaze me all the time. From reviews, to postings about my books on your pages, to commenting on my stories and telling me how much you enjoyed them.

  To my family and friends this year has been rough, crazy, stressful, but you all offered continued support and I thank you.

  To my husband and best friend, life had thrown us for a loop we have heard the word cancer more times than we can count, but God has given us strength to make it through.

  To Herman Goffigan, Jr. and La-Tonya Denise Dease who lost their lives to cancer this year, may God keep your souls in perfect peace.

  Chapter One

  “Ahh!” Haulcon’s scream ripped through the air vibrating the branches of the trees above him. He didn’t want to cry out. Had tried to fight it, but they pulled it out of him. Brought him this low.

  He would be dead soon. He knew that. The breaths he took were counting down to his last. One of two things would kill him, either the silver seeping into his bloodstream and headed for his heart or the sunlight that would shine in a few hours.

  Being a valf there weren’t many things that could end his life. However those that could were deadly, permanent. If he could shift into his wolfen form, he would be able to fight the silver poison. However they had made sure he would not be able to save himself. They had beaten and tied him spread-eagle in the middle of the woods, hands and feet to sturdy, thick oaks. The thick ropes bit deep into his wrists and ankles. If he even attempted to transform, the tight binding would snap his animal limbs at the joints. No wolf could tolerate being in such a position.

  They hadn’t stopped there. Those silver-dipped blades they had used to pierce his sides allowed his blood to drain, even as the silver flowed into him. He needed to feed. Blood sustained his clan and their wolves gave them strength, made them powerful, undefeatable; except to their own kind. Those who plotted and planned subterfuge and attacks.

  Now he lay in his own pool of blood, waste, and agony waiting for death to come for him. However, he was not fortunate enough for the valf-reaper to come quickly. No, they—his clansmen, his friends—had ensured the afterlife guide’s travel would be unhurried.

  His clan, the men he’d grown, learned, and traveled with could have given him the honor of a single silver bullet to his chest. They could have notified his family to bathe his remains in holy water then burn him to ashes. They hadn’t wanted him to have pride in his death. No, he would be left drained and stiffened by the sun’s light. His carcass left for human scientists to discover and examine like a worthless specimen.

  “Holy Hell!”

  The voice could have been that of one of the valf Great Spirit’s angels. The relief at hearing it washed over him just the same.

  His senses were deadening. When he was at full valf capacity he would have smelled a human getting close to him from miles away. Now, like a grotesque exhibit he lay prone as the female cringed before him.

  “Release me…”

  “Ww-who did this to you?” She stared upon his naked form, her face twisted in what he assumed was unexpected horror at the sight she beheld.

  “Release me… please.” He’d never had to beg, barter or request assistance from a lesser being in more than three decades. Yes, he had been brought low.

  As if snapping out of a trance she raced to his side and dropped to her knees. Not touching him, she slipped her pack off her back and removed a bottle of water.

  When she angled the bottle toward his mouth, he turned his head away. Water was not what he needed even though it would help stave off deaths arms once the sun rose in the sky, briefly.

  “You need to drink. You’re probably dehydrated.” She demanded.

  “Release m-e,” he growled, his voice sounded weak to his own ears. Yes, he was thirsted, but not for what she had in the bottle. He needed something more substantial. As long as he had been tied down he needed a lot of it. And what he needed he could smell—rich and pure, it seemed to permeate the humid air around him. The heady scent teased his senses and caused his parched mouth to salivate for the first time in hours. The cure that he needed was as close as his freedom, yet just as far away.

  Taken aback by even the unsteady sound of his voice that vibrated the air, he saw the woman’s pupils dilate almost taking over the hazelnut color of her irises. She licked her lips. “How did you get this way?”

  Lifting his head from the ground, he leaned toward her and tempered his tone as much as possible so as not to frighten her. “I need you to untie me.”

  His head dropped back with a thump. He could feel more of his strength and energy draining from him as more rays of sunlight broke through the trees. Soon the beams would grow wider with the rising sun and would pull everything from him and he’d have his last breath.

  “I need to stop the bleeding first. You’ve lost so much blood.” Rustling around in her pack again, she pulled out a plastic container.

  He was sure that as a human she did not understand the true urgency of the situation.

  She pressed one large gauze strip to the large cut in his side.

  Hissing from the contact to the violently opened area, he whispered, “Leave…the wounds.”

  If he got loose in enough time they would heal.

  Finally, she scooted towards the restraint closest to her that held his arm. Her soft, nimble fingers tugged on the knot. The more she fought with it, the more frustrated she seemed to become. “I can’t get it undone.” She hustled to the base of the thick tree and jerked on the rope.

  Her pulling jolted his body and sent fire through his weak form, but he ignored the pain as he pulled with her hoping to get the heavy cord to break.

  “Ahh…” she screamed in frustration.

  “A knife…have you something sharp?” he growled. So close to freedom yet it appeared it would be denied him. Heat was radiating around one of his feet. His right leg was in direct sunlight and he could feel the stiffening of his toes and ankle—atrophy was starting to set in.

  “No…nothi—” her words broke away. “Wait!”

  Wait. There was no time.

  Crawling fast on her hands and knees, her movements kicked up a dust cloud around them. Once she got to her pack, she unzipped the front pocket and pulled out a blue survival utility set.

  “One of my editors bought me this as a joke for my last birthday, because I’m always in the woods. He mocks me with the name Pinkie the Survivalist.” Thankfully as she rattled on with the random conversation, she flipped through the tools until she finally squealed with excitement. “Here it is.”

  H
e cut his eyes toward her hand and saw the small two-inch blade. The urge to sigh with defeat assailed him. She probably would have had more success with the tweezers attachment of the device, plucking the threads of the rope apart compared to what the mini knife appeared to be able to accomplish.

  “I’m not sure if this will work.” She lightly rested her hand on his chest as if trying to reassure him.

  His heart leaped in his chest. As if springing to new life and reaching for her hand. The unexpected occurrence made him groan.

  Mistaking his reason for groaning, she caressed the bare skin at the center of his chest. “If it doesn’t I will have to go for help.”

  If it doesn’t…I will be dead. However, he kept those words to himself. “Hur…ry,” he pleaded as his eyes slid shut. Even the strength to keep his lids up seemed to tax him.

  His entire right leg had now stiffened. Soon the sun would beat down on his entire body and cause his heart to stop. It shocked him that the thought of his heart not beating again didn’t cause him grief because he would cease to live but because he would never feel that powerful leap again. Something about his rescuing angel had caused it to happen. He wasn’t sure what. She wasn’t the first human female he had been in contact with. Hell for his kind, being around a human was necessary to sustain them—even though they chose for many reasons to live hidden and away from the mortal kind and made it a practice in the last five decades to only feed from animals.

  The short choppy swaying of the rope and the harsh violent sound of her sawing at the tightly woven cords gave him something to focus on other than his deadening form.

  “Come on, come on, come on!” She screamed vehemently.

  He laid there, silent. There was nothing left for him to do. He couldn’t even muster up a thought of hope or prayer to the valf Great Spirit for deliverance. Whatever was destined to happen would happen.

  “Aaaaah…” She sawed, screamed and fought with the rope. “Yes!”

  His eyes popped open when he felt the weight of his left arm hit the ground free. Tilting his head up so he could make eye contact with his savior, he noticed there were streaks of dusty tears lining her face.

  Had she wept for me? No one had ever shed a single tear for him during his life. Even now, if reports returned to the pack complex that he was deceased he could picture many who would grieve for a moment, but none that would cry for the loss of his life. His parent’s, but that would be expected.

  There was no time to waste on such thoughts, instead he urged the woman on. “The other now.”

  “Of course.” Shuffling across the ground over the top of his head, she immediately attacked the next line with more vigor and force. As if she had learned a technique working on the first lead.

  Excitement ran through his blood like fresh rain to a dry desert land. “You can do it.” He did the only thing he could do in his helpless state, offered encouragement.

  The second side didn’t take as long as the first. As soon as he felt his arm make contact with the hard forest floor he snatched the blade from her and called upon inner strength that he had believed left him hours ago.

  Sitting up, he whacked at the restraint holding his left leg, keeping himself out of the direct sunlight as long as possible.

  Moving up beside him, the woman watched him with concern. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do it? I doubt if you have enough—”

  Her words broke off after three chops and he was free.

  There was only one part of his body that remained tethered to the tree. The limb that had begun to die. It would stay that way, if he didn’t replenish himself.

  Tilting his head toward her, he closed his eyes and inhaled as he allowed the utility device to fall to the ground.

  “See I knew you should have let me do it, you’ve used up your last bit of strength.”

  She was wrong.

  He could hear the rustling of her clothing as she moved in toward the last cord. But, in the last hour that she had been around him, he could think of nothing but the intoxicating scent that saturated the still air around him. She smelled sweet and spicy with a hint of musk from the sweat coating her skin from both her travels through the woods and her work at freeing him. It all combined into the most decadent of smells.

  His hands flexed, tightening and releasing. Heat infused every cell of his body, not because of the morning sun that built in strength but because of her. This woman would be his savior in more ways than one.

  “Okay, you’re loose. Now let’s see about these woun—”

  “Forgive me.”

  “What?”

  Not allowing himself a moment to hesitate or reconsider he took hold of her by her neck, his fingers digging deep into the bones of her jaw. Lifting her with him, he rose. He pressed her back against the side of the tree where dawn’s shade still rested. He used more force than he would have ever used on a human female had he been in his right mind. However, it was impossible for his kind to maintain any level of clarity drained of blood and baking in the sun.

  She was taller than he had realized having viewed her full frame from the forest floor. Her height allowed his body to align perfectly with hers as he leaned into her.

  “Ahh—”

  Her cry broke as he lowered his mouth to her throat and sank his teeth to her vein—pumping, pulsing…ready.

  His grip spasmed and tightened more as the sweet elixir of her life source filled his mouth. Her thick, warm fluid coated his tongue. He consumed liquid fire with his first swallow.

  That was the thought that entered his mind. The urge to pull away gnawed at the back of his brain. Something wasn’t right.

  Yet, he couldn’t compel himself to move away from her, he drank again. Hunger took over. The burn was like alcohol to humans, the more he took in, the more he wanted. He was becoming intoxicated on her. It seared his throat while at the same time warming him from the inside out.

  He began to crave not only her unique taste but also the burn of the sweet-tasting flame.

  So good.

  As he fed, his body became stronger. The sting and pain of the rope burns and cuts on him were nullified—he was healing.

  One leg bore the weight of his body, while the other deadened limb remained uselessly leaning out away from him. But, now that he had fed and was out of the direct sunlight it would soon regenerate. Even now, he could feel a subtle tingling in his thigh. That sensation would continue to move downward until all strength had been restored.

  Oh, yes, he was healing. As his body mended itself, he began to focus on other things like the sounds of the animals in the forest, the rough bite of the bark of the tree his forehead was pressed against as he drank from his liberator. Yes, she had delivered him from the hands of the valf reaper.

  She held his side, her short neat nails digging into his flesh deep. It didn’t cause him pain but made him feel even more connected to her. It wasn’t odd for his heart to pick up the rhythm of hers. No, it was natural as a valf fed from a donor—willing or unwilling. What wasn’t natural was the sexual lust that began to ignite in his body. Valf’s were never attracted to humans. It was in their make-up…their DNA. Humans were only a sustenance source…nothing more, nothing less. The same as any animal in the forest.

  They bred with their own kind. That was how the line stayed pure and unadulterated. It had been that way since they shifted away from animals and fed from their first Neanderthal.

  He choked up. His response to this woman was a single isolated situation, because he had been so close to death, his system was out of whack. But, soon everything in his body and mind would operate as it should.

  However that didn’t do anything for what was going through him now. The warm tingling began in his balls, spreading through them and drawing them up and finally crawling into the base of his shaft. He was aroused. Not semi erect, but his cock was pushing full mast. He couldn’t recall the last time. Even Nyca, his last lover of more than a year ago, had not turned him on as fast
. Images of what it would be like to slip inside of her sex and feel her heat surrounding him filled in his mind.

  He dragged his free hand down past her hip and gripped her thigh, pulling her closer to him as he pressed his length firmly against her. Even as his mind warred with him and attempted to halt his actions, something guided him from within. A force he couldn’t fight against.

  A weak whimper slipped from her parted lips. However, he realized that she must be feeling the arc of the odd emotions raging through him, when she pressed her hips forward and the material of her shorts brushed against his hard cock.

  Like a jolt from a live wire, heat, energy and desire shot into his core while his mind became flooded with confusion.

  Enough.

  He yanked his teeth from the supple skin of her throat and released his grip from her neck and the tree. Thankfully mostly all of his strength had returned and he was able to step away and stand solidly on his own two feet.

  His benefactor slid feebly toward the ground.

  Quickly, he stepped in and caught her before she struck the hard-packed dirt.

  He had taken too much of her blood. She was supposed to be dazed, but instead she was out. Still breathing, but weak.

  “Shit.” He could have kicked himself in the gut. He should have stopped a long time ago, when he felt the first sensation in his deadened leg. His body had more than enough to continue to heal him throughout the day. But, she had tasted so good he just kept convincing himself that a little more wouldn’t hurt.

  Laying her on her side gently, he circumvented the sun now filling the entire clearing where he had lain moments before. Once he stood in the shadows closest to her bag, he searched the ground for something to assist him with reaching her pack. When nothing substantial was located, he stretched up his arms to a low branch. Clutching it tightly in his hands, he pulled down hard and snapped it away from the core of the tree.