Darkest Hour (New Adult Paranormal Romance) by Catherine Bullard

comfortable in a warm woolen
coat, his expression not at all malevolent like it had been the last few times.
He seemed almost amicable, in fact.
    “What do you want?” Thomas asked
as he approached, his body taut and ready for a fight.
    Malachi lifted a brow. “That’s no
way to greet someone.”
    “You’ll excuse me if I don’t mind
my manners,” Thomas retorted. “You did try to kill me, after all.”
    Malachi laughed. “Still holding a
grudge over that one, are you? Well, you’ve nothing to fear from me. As you
know, the Seethe Mistress has decreed that I am not allowed to kill you unless
I wish to forfeit my life in the bargain.”
    Thomas frowned. “If you’re not
here to kill me, then what do you want?”
    Malachi clapped a hand on his
shoulder and began walking into the forest, drawing Thomas along with him. “I
wanted to talk to you about Elsbeth.”
    “What about her?” Thomas asked
warily.
    “Well, you see, I care about her
very much.” Malachi kept his eyes on the trail. “She thinks my heart is made of
stone, but I have long had feelings for her. It is very difficult to stomach
the idea that after months of trying to woo her, you have won her heart so
easily.”
    “Did you really come out here to
tell me that you are jealous?” Thomas asked incredulously. “I could have
figured that out on my own.”
    Something hot flashed in
Malachi’s eyes, and Thomas couldn’t tell whether it was impatience or anger. “I
simply want to know that by turning away I am leaving Elsbeth in the care of
the right man. I know she has probably taught you to hunt, but should something
happen will you be able to protect her?”
    Thomas drew himself up. “I can
handle myself.”
    “Do you think so?” Malachi’s eyes
gleamed red in the darkness. “You are a young fisherman. What do you know about
fighting?”
    “I’ve knocked a few heads
together,” Thomas objected, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.
What if he wasn’t qualified to protect Elsbeth?
    Malachi laughed unpleasantly.
“You are a whelp. You wouldn’t last a minute in a fight to the death.”
    They entered a clearing then, and
as Thomas stepped into the middle of it, he noticed several sets of yellow eyes
glowing out of the darkness. A chill ran down his spine.
    “What—” he turned to
Malachi just in time to see the silver glint of a blade flash through the air
right before biting into him. A fiery trail of pain exploded along the blade’s
path—over his chest, his ribs, his abdomen. Blood gushed from the wound,
staining both his and Malachi’s clothes and shoes.
    “It seems I was right,” Malachi
sneered, kicking Thomas in the abdomen, his foot pressing into the wound.
Thomas cried out in agony as he crashed to the blood-spattered ground. “You
barely lasted ten seconds against me.” A cacophony of growls and snarls rose
into the air, and Thomas watched through a haze as a group of massive wolves
stepped into the clearing, their long canines flashing wickedly in the
moonlight. “I’m sure you’ll make these fellows a fine meal. Wolves hate
vampires, and since you’re half I’m sure they’ll be more than delighted to
feast on your entrails.”
    Smiling widely, Malachi drew the
shadows around him and disappeared. Thomas tried to struggle up into a sitting
position, but the wolves rushed him, snarling, their fetid breath washing over
him as they sank their teeth into every available surface they could find. His
shrieks of pain rent the night air as fangs pierced through his flesh,
splintering bone and sinew. He did his best to fight them off, but there were
simply too many, and the blood loss was making him dizzy. He was barely able to
keep them from tearing out his throat.
    Is this really how it’s going to
end? a voice in
his mind asked dimly. Are you just going to die here and leave Elsbeth at
the hands of that monster? Without ever having told her you love her?
    “NO!” Thomas roared, a new burst
of strength