Lovers Unchained Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  CURSE OF THE DARK WITCH BOOK 1: LOVERS UNCHAINED

  by

  Siren Allen

  TORRID BOOKS

  www.torridbooks.com

  Published by

  TORRID BOOKS

  www.torridbooks.com

  An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC

  Whiskey Creek Press

  PO Box 51052

  Casper, WY 82605-1052

  Copyright Ó 2013 by Siren Allen

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-61160-704-8

  Credits

  Cover Artist: Gemini Judson

  Editor: Dennis Hays

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my wonderful husband, Dempsey Allen. Thank you, Mr. Allen, for believing in me and putting up with my late night writing.

  It is also dedicated to my family, who stands behind me and supports me, no matter what crazy adventure I decide to go on.

  Lastly, to my parents, my nephew Carlos and my aunt Mae, who are watching over me from heaven. I love and miss you guys. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it wasn’t for all of you. Thank you!

  Prologue

  The Dark Witch stared into the seven mirrors decorating her wall. Each mirror offered her a glimpse into the Seven Realms of the World. She stared into the mirror showing her the Realm of Mist, her sister, Elder Delilah, known to Mortals as Death, ruled here. Only those with pure spirits were allowed to enter the Realm of Mist when they died. In the span of five years, the Realm of Mist doubled in population. This fact both saddened and frightened the Dark Witch.

  She turned her attention to the mirror containing images from the Realm of Dreams. Her sister, Elder Sandai, ruled this Realm. Dreams of sleeping Mortals and Immortals floated around in the mirror, but none of them was what she was looking for.

  Turning to the mirror which contained the Realm of Mortals, she smiled. The Mortals were allowed to govern themselves. No Elder ruled over their Realm. She loved the Mortals. Their innocence tugged at her heart strings. Though they sometimes irritated her with their selfish and violent acts against one another, it was to be expected. Mortals were unaware other Realms existed. They didn’t have any powers and were considered pets by most supernatural beings. The Elders expected them to be a little more…uncivilized.

  The Dark Witch turned away from the images. She walked over to the mirror containing images of the Elder Realm. She stared at the faces of her brothers and sisters. None of them knew she was the Dark Witch and hopefully they never would. Her siblings thought of her as the baby of the family. She hoped they didn’t banish her once they found out what she did. Everything she did was for the benefit of all, Immortals and Mortals alike. One day they would realize this.

  She moved on to the mirror showing images from the Immortal Realm, and sighed as scene after scene of Immortals battling with each other flashed before her eyes. Their ignorant grudges angered her. Couldn’t they sense something bigger than all of them was coming? Didn’t they feel the hatred seeping from the earth, filling her nose with its putrid smell? Unlike her, most couldn’t see the future, and those who could, couldn’t see as far into the future as she could.

  The Dark Witch turned away from the Immortals mirror and turned toward the mirror of the Dark Realm. The Dark Realm was once ruled by her brother, Elder Gaston Moarte, but now he was dead and his children ruled the Dark Realm, and a dark place it was. The Moarte siblings and their minions found a way to keep the Elders from entering the Realm, but with the power encased in her Ring of Protection, the Dark Witch was able to travel there. However, any time spent in the Dark Realm weakened her. The Moarte’s must have a powerful witch on their side to have such a potent weakening spell protecting their Realm. They were turning the Dark Realm into their own personal cesspool. Murder, sex, and misuse of power unfolded before her eyes.

  The scenes from the Dark Realm made her heavy heart even heavier, but there were a few small rays of light still in the Dark Realm. Those lights were in the hearts of five Immortals trapped there. Four of the five were there because of her. Two were there to claim their destiny. Two of them hated her with a passion, but everything she did, every curse she uttered was done out of love, love for the future of the Realms. The Dark Witch turned to the final mirror, The Shadow Realm. No one had been there in centuries. The older Elders refused to tell her why the Shadow Realm was no longer accessible. However, she had a feeling something horrible took place there, causing the Elders who came before her to close the portals leading to the Shadow Realm. Images of the Shadow Realm were the ones she sought.

  The only thing the Dark Witch saw in the mirror of the Shadow Realm was black smoke, but she knew something lurked there; something which could destroy all of the Realms. Unless they united, Mortal and Immortals alike, they wouldn’t stand a chance against what was coming. The Dark Witch leaned closer to the mirror, examining the dark fog obscuring her view. She sensed something powerful was there. She dreamed about the Shadow Realm every night and couldn’t shake the feeling something dreadful was coming.

  The Dark Witch closed her eyes, placed her nose against the cold glass and chanted. She recited a spell to make the fog disperse, to see what was hidden within the Shadow Realm. A cold chill crept over her. She opened her eyes to find a gnarled hand reaching through the mirror. The contorted fingers grabbed her by the neck and pulled her forward. She braced her hands against either side of the wall trying to break free. The clawed fingers dug into her neck, the creature hidden within the fog trying to drag her into the Shadow Realm. Continuing to struggle, she raised her hand and punched the mirror as hard as she could. The Ring of Protection she wore cracked the glass and the clawed hand released her. Shattered glass fell to the floor.

  The Dark Witch stumbled backwards, her hands going to her throat. Warm blood trickled from the deep scratches on her neck. She stared at the broken glass on the floor and each broken piece of glass showed the same image, swirling black fog. She knew behind the fog lived her worst nightmare, their worst nightmare. The Dark Witch kissed her Ring of Protection; she would need its power if she wanted to survive what was coming. Finally, she’d gotten a glimpse of what was hiding in the Shadow Realm and in that glimpse her worst fears were confirmed. They didn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter 1

  Jude closed his eyes trying to pretend he wasn’t enjoying what was being done to his body. He focused his thoughts on everything else going on around him, like the sound of water splashing from the marble waterfall on the other side of the room.

  His tracker senses picked up each droplet falling into the pool of water at the bottom of the fall. If he wanted, he could count each drop splashing into the pool
before it became a part of the collective, but even this didn’t help him take his mind off the things she did to him with her tongue. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes.

  Jude stared past the fall, through the sheer curtains covering the windows, into the outside world. The Dark Realm stared back at him in all its horrific glory. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the window; the outside called to him. Maybe it was his need to be free which kept him glued to the window, or maybe there was someone out there, waiting for him, calling to him. Jude felt the pull of something powerful beyond the building he was trapped in, but he couldn’t answer.

  A loud scream ripped through the night, ceasing as quickly as it began—another night, another death. Jude turned away from the window, shutting out the sounds of the Dark Realm and the creatures lurking there. The muscles in his tattooed stomach tightened and his body tingled with pleasure.

  Tilting his head upward, he stared at the artwork on the ceiling. Blood-red images of vampires feeding on innocent mortals stared down at him. Some of the victims were full grown and some were children. His captor was known for her cruelty and these images represented the many victims she had killed over the years.

  Jude closed his eyes against the depictions of death. How could someone, as petite and beautiful as the vampiress who had captured him, be so sick in the head? The same mouth she used to drain blood from her captive’s bodies was the same mouth she used to bring him pleasure regularly, like right this moment.

  Jude fought the urge to clench his fingers and jerk his hips. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how aroused she made him. Instead, he silently counted backwards from one hundred to one, while the vampiress in front of him sucked him in deeper. Jude forced his body to remain still, refusing to push forward into the warmth of her mouth, although his body screamed for him to do so.

  He didn’t want to give her any signs of encouragement thus prolonging their encounter. Jude was still pissed at her for the stunt she had pulled at their last meeting, yet every pull of her mouth, every stroke of her tongue sent tingles down his spine. He had gone twenty years without this. Even though he despised his captor, he couldn’t deny his body needed her.

  Jude continued his backward count. Just as he reached three, he felt his orgasm approaching. He gritted his teeth as his body jerked. His juices poured into the mouth of the woman he hated the most in both this Realm as well as his own, Lana. She swallowed every drop like the greedy bitch she was. When she finished milking him, she got up off her knees, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “The more I drink from you, the more addicted I become to your taste.” Her voice was deceptively sweet.

  “What would I do without your tangy nectar morning, noon and night?” Lana licked her lips.

  Jude ignored her; he knew to engage in conversation with her only kept her around longer. Now that he was sated, he wanted her gone. Lana slung her red, waist length hair over her shoulder; and placing her hands on her slender hips, she gave him a heated look which would have brought a lesser demon to his knees.

  “Nothing to say today, Juju,” she purred, using her nickname for him she knew he hated. Just another way of reminding him who was in charge. Jude continued to ignore her. He closed his eyes and thought of a happier time in his life; a time before he was captured by the vampire who refused to release him. He sensed Lana leaning in closer to him, examining his face.

  “You really are not going to talk to me, are you?” she whined.

  He pictured her pouting prettily. She always pouted when she didn’t get her way.

  “Are you still mad at me for bringing another man into our sex room?”

  Jude suppressed the urge to growl. He was sure she already knew the answer to the question. Hell, yeah, he was still mad about the man she had tried to force on him. The man whose neck Jude ripped out when the bastard tried to use force to subdue him.

  “Okay, be mad. I thought we would try something new.”

  Jude opened his eyes to see Lana pouting. He knew it. At another time in another place, he would have thought her pout charming, but at this time, in this place, he only found it irritating. Jude stared openly at her body, ignoring her words. There were so many interesting things she could do with her mouth besides talk. Even though he just had an orgasm, he was ready for another. He was never truly satisfied, not since the curse.

  Lana continued her rant. “I’m getting tired of sucking you off and getting nothing in return.”

  Jude smiled cynically. He knew it angered her when he couldn’t sustain an erection during sex; hell, it angered him also, but he would never let her know it. Jude laughed bitterly to himself. He didn’t bother telling her he had been cursed over twenty years ago to never have sex again, until he met his mate—the woman meant to be his and his alone.

  Jude didn’t bother telling her because if he did, she would find him useless and kill him with no regret. As long as he kept his secret, he would stay alive and also keep receiving the comfort of her mouth, which was the only upside of being captured by vampires and held prisoner in the Dark Realm. This didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to escape when the time was right.

  He still needed to find the Dark Witch to break the curse she placed on him and his friends. He owed it to his friends. Lana’s hiss brought his thoughts back to the present.

  She jerked the chains holding him bound to the wall. “Listen to me when I’m talking to you,” she yelled.

  Jude turned to her, his eyes glowing red from the anger he tried to suppress. “You don’t control me,” he roared, causing the glasses on the table and the chandelier hanging from the ceiling to rattle gently. A look of fear passed over Lana’s beautiful face, but quickly disappeared. Of course, she should fear him. Demons and vampires were at war in all of the Realms. Demons usually won.

  He was prisoner here, however, and she was the one with the upper hand. Handcuffed and chained to a wall, there was nothing he could do to defend himself if she decided he was no longer worth her time.

  * * * *

  Lana flinched at the anger in Jude’s voice, but quickly regained her confidence.

  “I know I don’t control you,” she purred, tracing the outline of his lips with her finger. “But that is what I love about you. You don’t cower before me like my other slaves do.” She hated that about him. She wanted him to cower and wouldn’t rest until he did.

  Lana turned and walked back to her bed; she needed a moment to get her thoughts together before she faced him again. The last thing she wanted was for him to know how much his disdain affected her. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure his eyes were on her as she walked away from him. They were.

  Lana climbed onto her bed slowly. She felt him staring at her ass, while she made her way to the middle of her large bed and lay back on the many red and black pillows decorating it. Her pale skin appeared even lighter against the black, silk sheets she rested on.

  Propped up, she stared back at her slave of one year. Even naked and chained to a wall, he still looked fierce. Tattoos covered his abdomen, chest and arms; the symbols reminding her of exactly what she possessed, a Tracker Demon, the Tracker Demon.

  Physically, he was everything she wanted in a man. At six foot, four he towered over her. Whenever she was next to him, she felt like a tiny, porcelain doll. She loved the feel of his muscular arms wrapped around her body and only wished she didn’t have to command him to put them around her.

  Lana fantasized about him constantly. She imagined what it would feel like to watch as he knelt between her legs and sucked her dry. She pictured herself bunching his short blond hair up in her fist, holding his head in place while he licked her into oblivion, but he refused to do it to her.

  He refused to do anything to her. No matter how hard she tried, she could not get him to remain hard when it came time to have sex. Yes, she was able to jack him off and give him blow jobs. Yet, the moment she tried to guide him into her body, he went flaccid, limp as a d
ead flower.

  “Look at me,” she demanded; he obeyed. Lana smiled. She loved possessing people. She loved being the one in control of their every movement. Lana lifted her hands above her head and watched his eyes zone in on her firm breasts. She slowly opened her legs revealing to him how wet she was.

  His cock hardened. Lana rubbed her hands over her naked body. She pinched her nipple and watched his cock jerk. He was aroused by her, but for some reason he held back. She needed to know what caused him to do this, what caused him to constantly reject her.

  Soon, she would grow tired of him. Then, he would have to pay for his year of rejecting her, but first she needed to know what it felt like to have him inside her body. She would let him live only until she got what she wanted. Lana refused to admit, even to herself, how much she craved his attention, his touch.

  She rubbed her hands lower over her flat belly down to her clitoris. She watched his cock grow larger, harder; her body grew wetter. Lana pushed two fingers inside her imagining it was her tattooed slave entering her. She whimpered as his hips jerked. He wanted to be inside of her, it was written all over his face.

  Unable to continue teasing him or her, Lana jumped from the bed, teleporting directly in front of him. Going to her knees, she sucked him into her mouth greedily. His fingers clenched into fists. He bucked, straining against the chains holding him bound to the wall.

  He wanted her; he belonged to her. Lana sucked him harder, deeper while she fingered herself vigorously. His hips jerked and Lana knew he was about to come. Quickly, she rose from her knees, this time she would make sure he was able to enter her.

  Turning around, she bent over in front of him, pushing her body up against his hardness; he wanted this as much as she did, she saw it in his eyes. Lana reached behind her; gripping him trying to push him between her silken folds, but she couldn’t, he no longer had an erection. Just like that, the massive erection she cradled with her tongue was gone. Lana turned to face him, her anger building almost to its boiling point.