Authors: V. J. Chambers
Tags: #werewolves, #love triangle, #lycan, #shifters, #alpha
But the wolves didn’t think
that way anymore. The wolves didn’t think at all. They reacted and
they survived. And since there was no danger, they didn’t have any
reason to concern themselves with it.
When they left the stately house again
to hunt, there was nothing calling them back, and so they never
returned. They wandered into the wilderness, chasing their prey,
chasing the moon.
All of it was gone now. The
girl, the house, their human forms, their human names, their old
life. It had recessed into the wolves’ brains, disappearing as if
it had never existed.
They still hunted and ran under the
moon.
They still traveled
together.
They were still so close
that they were essentially the same mind.
And the loss of all of the
memory, the humanity, it didn’t trouble them.
They were wolves.
They were wild.
And it was bliss.
If you
’d like to find out what happens to Cole and Dana’s daughter,
Piper, keep your eyes peeled for her book:
Under a Raging
Moon
Look for it in May 2014,
or…
Visit my website to join my email list, and get notified the minute
it’s available.
vjchambers.com
More fiction by V. J. Chambers on
Smashwords!
(follow the link and scroll
down for a complete list of titles.)
So now what?
Like your torrid
professor-student affairs with a side of gothic magic?
Try
Crimson
.
Keep reading for a sneak
peak.
Hey you!
Yes… YOU!!
Your opinion
matters.
In this new and exciting
world of indie books, other readers rely on reviews from people
like you to make informed purchases of books. Please consider
returning to the site where you got this book and leaving a review
to let others know what you thought.
CRIMSON SNEAK
PEAK
Teagan
I
’d
been having the dream about the dark man since I was thirteen. It
was always the same. I was in the woods in the darkness. The moon
was bloated in the sky, full and bright.
I was lying on a raised dais, tall
trees surrounding me.
And the dark man was... on top of
me.
We were doing it. Getting it on. Having
sex.
I called him the dark man because he
was wearing a dark hooded robe that hid his face.
But right at the end of the dream, he
would lean down and our lips would meet.
And I’d see his
face.
I’d reach up and push back
his hood. I’d gasp.
He was beautiful. He had
light blue eyes the color of a summer sky. His hair was sandy and
cropped short. His jaw was firm and strong. His nose was straight.
I would put my fingers on his lips, and he would kiss
them.
And something would stir
inside me. Pleasure and desire and emotion. It would build, like a
gathering storm.
Then I would wake up.
Like I did that morning,
feeling as frustrated as I always did. It wasn’t just that I was so
obviously about to have an orgasm in the dream, and that I’d woken
up before it happened, it was that I’d felt so connected to the
dark man in that moment. I was half in love in him, and he wasn’t
even real. I didn’t like leaving him behind.
But it was morning. The sun
was pounding through the window in my bedroom, illuminating the
dust on all my antique furniture. My aunts, my mother, and I all
lived in the old Moss mansion, which was the only thing of value my
family owned anymore. Generations ago, the Moss family had been
rich.
But that was before the Evil Ones
started stealing our power.
If you listened to my aunts.
And they were crazy.
Not as crazy as my mother,
of course. My mother was the real deal. Schizophrenia. She saw
things that weren’t there and had paranoid delusions about people
trying to capture her.
It wasn’t exactly the
easiest place to live. And I had been trapped here for all of my
twenty-one years.
Until today.
Today. Crap. I was supposed to wake up
early today to get ready for the car Thornfield College was sending
for me. I twisted in bed, looking at my clock.
That late?
I threw myself out of bed. I
was never going to get ready in time.
* * *
Carter
I dumped several heaping
spoonfuls of coffee grounds into the coffee maker in the faculty
room in the theater department. Usually, I came in hours later than
this, and by then, someone else had started the coffee. Not
today.
“
You’re up early, Carter,”
said a voice behind me.
I turned. “Oh, good morning,
Marcus.” It was Marcus Bancroft. He was the head of the department.
We were also both members of Scales and Fangs, the secret society
on campus. We’d been members as students, but Scales and Fangs
membership was a lifetime deal. The benefits continued until death,
as did the responsibilities. “Just had some stuff to get together
today, that’s all.”
He smirked. “Wouldn’t have
anything to do with a certain scholarship student that’s showing up
today, would it?”
I went back to the coffee,
so that he didn’t see my expression tighten. Was Marcus jealous or
something? Even he must see that he was too old to perform the
ritual himself. I’d worked hard to prove myself worthy of this
honor. Well, I’d lied, cheated, and stepped on people. Same
difference. I earned it. “Oh, does she arrive today?”
He laughed. “As if you
aren’t aware.”
I slammed the coffee maker
shut. “I haven’t seen her since the auditions. She did a very good
job. Quite talented, actually. I didn’t have to work that hard to
make sure the others on the committee agreed to give her the
scholarship.”
Marcus settled at the round
table in the center of the room. “How long do you think the coffee
will take?”
I crossed to the sink,
filling the pot with water. He was planning on staying then.
Wonderful. “Not long.”
“
You haven’t made it too
weak, I hope.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You
know me better than that.”
He rummaged through his
briefcase, coming out with his laptop. Opening it, he said, “Well,
you’re playing it cool, Carter, but I can tell you’re
excited.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m an
instrument of the society, sir. I do as they will me
to.”
He snorted. “Stop it,
Carter. Humility doesn’t suit you. Anyone in your position would be
looking forward to what will happen a few months from
now.”
Well, he was right about that, at
least.
“
How often are you handed an
excuse to have sex with a young, nubile—”
“
The power’s what I’m
excited about.” Certainly, I was going to have sex with her. The
ritual demanded it. But the ritual wasn’t about sex. It was about
the acquisition of power.
“
This one ugly,
then?”
I poured water into the
coffee maker. “No.” She was stunningly gorgeous, if he really
wanted to know. She had very light skin and very dark features, and
she resembled a porcelain doll, pretty and delicate. And then there
was her body, her genuine hourglass figure, like something out of
the Civil War, with an impossibly tiny waist and swelling hips and
breasts and... I turned the coffee maker on. “Personally, I’ve
really never been attracted to younger women.”
“
Oh, that’s right. I forgot
about you and Adelaide.” He raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t think
she’d be very excited at the prospect of your ogling this girl for
weeks. The girl’s in your freshman acting class, isn’t
she?”
“
Adelaide and I haven’t been
seeing each other for months,” I said. I thought he would have
noticed, but either Adelaide and I had been more discreet than I’d
thought, or Marcus didn’t pay much attention to my love
life.
Adelaide was the dean of
students. She was an attractive woman in her early fifties, and
we’d been occasional lovers last year, my first year teaching at
Thornfield College. I’d always been more attracted to older women,
even when I was younger.
That didn’t mean I only had
sex with middle-aged women. Certainly, when I’d been in college
myself, I’d had a few encounters with my peers. But girls in their
early twenties had no idea what they were doing. They seemed to
think that because their bodies were so firm and supple, all they
needed to do was show up. And they were clingy and
insecure.
No, I’d much rather be with
a woman who knew what she was doing. I preferred mature women, like
Adelaide.
Hell. Maybe I kind of liked
the fact that they seemed a little bit... well, grateful. I was
twenty-six and a fairly attractive guy if I didn’t say so myself. I
liked being appreciated.
Adelaide had broken it off
with me. I didn’t really remember what excuse she’d given.
Considering our relationship had been primarily physical, I wasn’t
too upset about it.
“
Months ago?” Marcus showed
me a leering grin. “Then there’s nothing standing between you and
that girl.”
I sighed. “She’ll be in my
class. She’ll be my
student
. Besides, I don’t have any
interest in her besides as a means to an end. You seem intrigued.
Why don’t you fuck her?”
He went red suddenly,
opening his laptop in a hurry. “Of course not. I’m a happily
married man.”
Of
course
. I was beginning to think that
I should go on a quick walk until the coffee was done. I didn’t
feel like talking to Marcus anymore. There had to be some excuse I
could make up to get away from him. Something in my office,
maybe?
“
I will say that the society
chose wisely in you,” said Marcus, his voice quieter. “I was here
the last time, you know? I was a junior professor, like you. I
think Todd had a much more prurient interest in completing the
ritual than you seem to.”
Todd Armstrong. He was the
last member of the society to complete the ritual. He’d died in the
spring, and because of his death, the energy he’d funneled into
Scales and Fangs was fading. That was why there was a need for
another ritual. Another girl. “Well, I assure you, I won’t let the
guilt eat into me the way he did.”
Armstrong had shot himself.
His suicide note detailed how guilty he felt over what he’d done to
that girl twenty-one years ago.
I found it astounding.
Armstrong had money, houses, cars, and
power
. And it hadn’t been enough for
him. I wasn’t going to go soft the way he had. I’d give the society
its due. And then I’d enjoy the fruits of the ritual. Teagan Moss?
I wouldn’t give her another thought.
Marcus wasn’t looking at his
laptop, I realized. He was looking at me, his expression
thoughtful. “I don’t believe you will be guilty, Carter. The
society chose you precisely because of your lack of
scruples.”
* * *
Teagan
“
You’re flushed,” said Aunt
Libby. “You had the dream again, didn’t you?”
I pushed past her to the
refrigerator. “Don’t be silly, Aunt Libby. I’m fine.”
Aunt Libby raised her voice.
“Kate, Sarah, get in here. She’s had the dream again.”
I got out some jam and
butter and set them on the counter. I wished I’d never told my
aunts about that dream. But I was thirteen when I got it, and I
wasn’t entirely sure what was happening.
I’d had a very sheltered
childhood. My aunts insisted on homeschooling me until high school,
and they only gave in then because I begged and pleaded. Public
school was a culture shock for me, but a welcome one. I finally had
been able to hear other viewpoints besides my aunts’. And I’d had
the chance to join the theater department. Acting had saved me. It
was my passion and my joy. I’d known from the first time I stepped
on stage that it was the place I belonged. It had been like coming
home.
I’d been considered weird in
high school, and I hadn’t had many friends. Afterwards, I was still
solitary. I left the house to go to work and for the community
theater productions that I did. Acting was still the only thing I
wanted to do.
That was why this
scholarship to Thornfield was so wonderful. I finally had a shot at
doing what I loved, and I got to get away from my aunts in the
meantime.
But when I’d first had the
dream, I’d only been thirteen. I didn’t even know what sex was. I
didn’t know what the dark man was doing to me, I only knew that I
liked it. And back then, I told my aunts everything, because they
were all I knew.
But the minute they heard the dream,
they freaked out.