Nameless Darkness: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Raven Book 1) Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Bette’s Blunders

  Author’s Note

  Copyright © 2019 by Elle Lincoln

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.

  Editing by Elemental Editing and Proofreading

  Cover Design by MoorBooks Design

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I want to thank my family for being so patient with me. Especially during those times where a plot point drove me crazy and half the time I had no idea where I wanted to go. But it all came together in the end and you guys cheered me on every step of the way. For that I am eternally grateful!

  To my Tribe. You are all amazing, encouraging, and kind. Thanks for keeping me grounded and motivated. Even if it was to just hand me a drink. I love you all.

  My editor, Jess. You are an amazing human being. Thank you for editing this and giving me the perfect amount of motivation to keep going. Sometimes we see the worst in ourselves and when another sees that hidden light and dusts away the cobwebs, we shine. Thanks for dusting those cobwebs.

  Hindsight is an obnoxious word. No matter how vital the perspective hindsight brings you, you can’t see it while you star in your own show. There is no glowing neon sign that flashes a warning. But looking back, I see it now. I see how fucked up my life was, how horrible a person I had been. Looking back on who I was and the things I did makes me cringe.

  Now.

  But not then. No, then I walked through life enjoying every little nonsense my twenties threw at me. Drugs, sex, and manipulation. I was walking chaos. But the thing about chaos is that there should be order in it. Even then my chaos had no order and I did what I wanted, when I wanted. Damn the world.

  You wouldn’t have liked me very much.

  Consequences? I didn’t even know what those were. Morals? Those were for my parents’ generation. Ethics meant nothing. Falling to my knees with a coy smile granted me power and influence. I became very good at getting what I wanted.

  If you asked anyone, they would have told you I was living my life to the fullest. I wasn’t. That’s hindsight. I spent my days hazed out and destroying everyone around me by collecting their secrets. Burning bridges I didn’t even know existed. I hurt others with my words and my actions.

  I’m trying to tell you I sucked as a human being.

  So yeah, hindsight and all that. It took dying to realize how fucked up I was as a person. Yet that was the easiest part of my story.

  Living destroyed me, broke me into a thousand little pieces no one could put back together. Not when I became something sinister, dark, and not human. My broken shell was given purpose that shattered me even more.

  Until them, even though they became the reason for my destruction.

  I only wish I’d known then what I know now...

  The Raven

  By Edgar Allen Poe

  Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

  Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

  While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

  As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

  “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

  Only this and nothing more.”

  Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

  And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

  Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

  From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

  For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

  Nameless here for evermore.

  And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

  Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

  So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

  “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

  Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

  This it is and nothing more.”

  Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

  “Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

  But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

  And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

  That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

  Darkness there and nothing more.

  Chapter 1

  Bette

  An Undetermined Amount of Time in the Past...

  “Bee you made it!” A chorus of cheers wraps around me like the perfect sweater. I add a little more sway to my hips and let the ghost of a coy smile tease my lips. I saunter to the little corner where my friends are waiting for me. “Drink!”

  Don’t mind if I do. I grab the shot from someone’s hand, I don’t even know who, and throw it back. The burn of alcohol coats my throat and sends a shiver down my spine. My eyes close in bliss while I patiently wait for the alcohol to hit my bloodstream. A moan of pleasure slips past my lips as my veins become saturated with the numbing liquor.

  I bite my lip and look down at the table before me. I slide onto a cushioned vinyl seat, the ratty tears showing the age of the bar. It doesn’t matter I’m late, life happens. I wanted that promotion and the only way I would get it was by doing what I do best—delving into skeleton closets and enticing them forth. I lift a shoulder in a mental shrug. A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.

  I always get what I want. Even if it takes a dash of manipulation.

  “Where have you been?” Kelsie, my childhood best friend, asks me. Her face is flawless and framed in tight blond ringlets. She’s so damn innocent all I can do is smile. She takes it with a grain of salt, her face lighting up and her lips stretching wide across her cherub face. I know her secrets and how she feels about her stepsister. How they rendezvous at the midnight hour. I’m holding that secret. Just in case I need it one day. There are always situations in which secrets become priceless. In our tiny southern town, hers is worth so damn much.

  “I was busy.” I wiggle my eyebrows, hoping she catches my meaning.

  She does if that blush is any indication. I let her believe what she wants. Sexual or not, it doesn’t matter
. If she thinks I’d fuck my way to the top, so be it. No one needs to know what I really do. That I have a knack for finding a well-kept secret.

  People would kill to keep their secrets just that, secret.

  I turn to the group, picking up on conversations here and there. They littered the table with all the appetizers from the simplistic menu. I can’t expect much from a cheap, run-down bar, and I don’t. Not really.

  I focus on the group while nibbling on a breadstick. I glance over the couples, wondering how happy they are in this small town. Most of them all went to the same high school. The same college and all work at the same jobs. They all fuck the same people in their pathetic vanilla world. Living their simple lives. That is the tale of a small town after all, isn’t it?

  So is the cheating, the embezzlement, and as I look at Kelsie, some form of pseudo-lesbian incest. I do love the game.

  I live halfway between here, in the middle of the mountains, and the city of Asheville, North Carolina. Call me sadistic, but watching their fucked up lives gives me a certain amount of pleasure. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it. Watching them struggle makes me feel accomplished. I learn their secrets, exploit them, and thrive.

  And when I’ve contributed to their downfall?

  Well.

  I shudder, pleasure rolling through me in a seductive wave.

  Time for a drink. I get up, ignoring the calls of the others and stalk to the bar. Dave stands there, his thick muscular arms crossed over his chest. I watch as they tense at my approach. He’s handsome in a familiar way. Blond hair, blue eyes, and smart as hell, but settled for a bartending job. His face is clean-shaven and smooth around the edges. He isn’t my type, but he always does in a pinch. Or rather his cock does.

  “Bee.” I can hear his molars grind and his jaw flex. I don’t think he likes me very much tonight. That’s really a damn shame because I didn’t have time to get off earlier. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  I really pissed him off. No matter. There’s more than enough dick in the bar tonight to satisfy me. Either way, I pout, my plush lips flaring. My tooth snatches on my lips, scratching off a layer of lipstick. It does its intended purpose, and I watch as Dave’s eyes flicker down. Drawn there against his will. His eyes darken before he catches himself and looks back up at me.

  “Can’t a girl say hello to her favorite bartender?” I slide onto the seat only to lean forward. My elbows plumping up my cleavage, again drawing his eyes exactly where I want them. If I keep up this slow seduction, he’ll be thrusting into me in the alley behind the bar. My eyelids lower at the thought.

  “Everyone else, yes. You? No.” I glance down at the bulge in his pants, wondering how long I have to keep this up before I get what I want.

  I feign mock offense, throwing my hand over my heart and dropping my voice to a southern drawl. “Now Davey, tell me you don’t mean that.”

  “I do, now what do you want?” For a moment I think my allure is broken until I look into those blue eyes of his and realize oh, that’s not true at all. He’s staring at my tits.

  “A drink, Cuba Libre, please,” I pout, “and maybe you, if you have a break.” No need to waste my time when I know exactly what I want.

  Dave turns around, grabbing a glass from the top shelf, and begins to make my drink. I can’t read his emotions right now, so I wait him out. I peer around the bar, my eyes catching on all the possibilities. And by possibilities, I mean the men staring at me. My neck tingles, telling me I’m being watched.

  He’s sitting in a corner, alone. He raises his glass when I catch him studying me. I nod with indifference. But there’s something off about him. I can’t place my finger on it. He hides in shadow, his features dark. Nothing about him is distinctive. I feel he may be more than I can chew. There’s also a nagging at the base of my spine, warning me to stay away from that guy.

  Happy to oblige, sixth sense.

  Except I don’t listen, and my skin heats the longer I stare at him. I almost leave Dave to go to the dark stranger. Especially when images of me riding him in the bar like a fucking exhibitionist dance through my mind. I shudder and my panties dampen. If he can do that with just a look, I can’t imagine what he could do with my body if given the chance. I move to get up, but I hear my name being called me from behind me. Damn shame.

  Dismissing the stranger, I turn as Dave places my drink on the bar. I raise a brow at him, hoping he’s come to his senses and is willing to fuck me. That strange man has my body coiled tight with need. I throw back my drink, chugging it in a very unladylike way. My body flushes as the alcohol mingles with my blood, setting my body alight.

  We stare, his blue eyes to my brown ones. I’m just waiting him out at this point. A small time limit presses against me. I’ll let this go another few minutes before I seek out someone else. I’m cock hungry, and nothing will get in my way.

  Dave groans, sending shivers down my spine. He’s breaking just as he always does. “I shouldn’t even agree to this.” He scrubs his clean-shaven face with his hands. “Fuck, you probably have another man’s come all over you.”

  Well. He wouldn’t be wrong. I smile at him and keep my mouth shut. He wouldn’t like the answer anyway. No point in making it worse.

  “I’ll head out the back. Come find me in five,” I tell him. Even if he doesn’t show, there’s always someone back there to scratch my itch. I pop off my bar stool and walk away, before throwing over my shoulder, “Thanks for the drink.”

  I pass the table my friends are, laughing, joking, and mingling. I smile and wink at Kelsie, since she already knows where I’m headed. No reason to rub in my luck. I stop in the bathroom, smelling piss and vomit. Someone had a good night. I lock the door before digging through my purse for that little white bag. Wasting no time, I dip my pinky nail in then bring it to my nose, inhaling. I do my best not to sneeze as my eyes water. Rubbing my nostrils as I fight off that tickle.

  I lean back against the sink, my head heady with euphoria. My limbs settle, and my body succumbs to the high I need. I turn to grab my purse, settling it back around my body, and feeling the weight brush against my nipples. A gasp falls from my lips, knowing Dave is moments away from taking care of that little problem.

  I push the bathroom door open, confidence overtaking my limbs as I move to the back door and push it open. But it isn’t Dave standing there waiting for me, it’s the mysterious stranger.

  I cock my head, studying him in the moonlight. He’s wearing a dark cowl that bleeds down into his equally dark coat. I can just make out his rough face and dark eyes, laced with thick lashes. But it isn’t seeing him that makes my body thrum. It’s his presence. As though my body knows his and is just anticipating his touch. It’s a strange feeling and one I’m not sure I want to question. Not when I take an involuntary step in his direction. A hiss of air expels through my teeth as desire rushes through me. I need this man like no other.

  And if he wants to cock block Dave, I’ll just use him. Because I damn sure can’t control my reaction to him.

  That persistent tingling at the base of my spine flares again in warning. I ignore it, shrugging it off. Half of me is ready to climb him, while the other half is warning me away. There’s no reason to walk away now.

  “You’re high.” I am mystery man. I am.

  “Does that matter?” I step closer to him, inhaling his scent. He’s coated in the harsh cologne of the deep woods. Saturated in pine and earth.

  “No. It’ll just make this easier.” If by easier he means my wanton behavior, he doesn’t understand there’s no way I can get any easier.

  I place a palm on his chest. He’s taller than me, but not by much. Just under six feet, maybe. I don’t have far to look up. My blood pulses through me. “Make what easier?”

  I run my hands up his shirt, grasping his neck, with the intent to pull him down into a kiss. My hands brush his cool skin. He leans down. His lips grazing mine in a teasing kiss. It’s not what I want.

  A
chirping pulls me out of his embrace. “Pity,” I tell him, backing away to pull my phone out of my purse. “Raincheck?” My notification tells me my dealer is in town with some new stuff he’s raving about. There’s only one thing that can pull me away from a fuck, and it’s my dealer.

  I never said I was a good person. In fact, I know I’m not. I don’t have it in me to care. Not anymore. The reasons why cut too fucking deep to even think about. I’m just a product of my own environment after all.

  I turn and walk away, surprised he lets me go.

  “I’ll see you soon Bette.” Amusement laces his tone, an ominous promise.

  Did I tell him my name? No matter, everyone knows who I am. I don’t look back as I get into my car and start it. Cracking the windows, I let in the cool winter air before turning up the music. I close my eyes, riding the bliss of the bass and the hum of a deep voice that sinks right through me. Delving into my bones to settle there like a sweet toxin.

  My eyes open, and my body is weightless as I pull out into the night. I press the accelerator, reveling in the whip of wind blowing through my dark hair. I check my lipstick in the mirror, my thumb scraping along the bottom where the pink overlays my skin. My wrist swerves the car, jolting and jerking me out of my personal inspection in the mirror.

  Focus, Bee.

  I laugh, my body feels invincible. Even if I didn’t get that orgasm I so deserve. No big deal, I’ll take care of that at the next stop. I hope I have condoms. I make a mental note to pull into the drugstore just inside town.

  I’m still in the middle of nowhere USA. Driving back roads with looming trees and winding roads. There’s a certain kind of peace here, which sits in the quiet of the night. Devoid of traffic and the bustle of a fast paced lifestyle. If you like that kind of tranquility.

  I despise that peace, that utter stillness. It makes my skin itch with boredom. The sounds of crickets chirping into the night air, the extreme quiet of the outdoors, and the boring, endless nights. Perhaps that’s why my favorite past time is to blow and fuck.