Captured by the dark com.., p.1
Captured by the Dark Commander (Veiled City Book 1), page 1
CAPTURED BY THE DARK COMMANDER
ELLIE POND
Copyright © 2023 by Ellie Pond
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Natasha Designs
Developmental Editing: The Word Faery
Line edits by Lori Diederich
Beta Reading: Sarah Urquhart
Proofreading by SB Edits
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To Andrea C.
Thank you.
“Truth, like gold, is to be obtained not by its growth, but by washing away from it all that is not gold.”
– Leo Tolstoy
CONTENTS
Trigger Warnings
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
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Also by Ellie Pond
Also by Ellie Pond
About the Author
Acknowledgments
BOOK DESCRIPTION
Four hearts, one destiny.
As a merman commander, my responsibilities are clear: protect my people and follow the council's orders. Despite my rank, I’ve never been good at following orders. When we discover Annabelle Portsmouth has the gene we’re looking for, I know we need her. It’s a rare trait that gives her the potential to become a mermaid. But after one look at her, I’d want her even without it. And I’m willing to take down my own men who touch her without permission.
I do what I have to do - I take her from her apartment and bring her under the sea to the domed Veiled City. A world of magic and secrets, where the females have the freedom to choose as many mates as they wish.
I understood my actions would have consequences. My government, like me, doesn’t give second chances. I did it for my nation, and for Annabelle, to let her become her true self.
But now she’s mine.
And I’ll do anything to keep this human. Anything.
And I’m keeping this human.
TRIGGER WARNINGS
Captured by the Dark Commander is the first of a four books about Annabelle and her guys. It contains darker themes then some of Ellie Pond's other books.
Kidnapping
Mentions of past abuse
Dominating alpha male
And there’s some thing used for things they shouldn’t be used for.
1
Annabelle
I drop my backpack next to my desk and stomp the dirty snow off my boots. I spent the morning in the lab, working on my dissertation. I’d still be there now, but the lab manager arranged for the floors to be waxed, since who would be in the lab the day before New Year’s Eve? Me. I would. Or rather, I want to be. I tried to tell him that New Year’s Eve wasn’t a holiday and the day before certainly wasn’t, but he didn’t care.
My plan is fluffy socks and watching Christmas movies on my ancient tablet. I slide the chain from my necklace over my lips. It’s a habit I’ve tried to break, but it helps me think. I pull the rest of my clothes off, looking forward to a long shower. One that would have enough hot water with most of the other students gone for the holiday.
The flimsy wood of my dorm door vibrates with a firm knock. Being in the grad student facility means old-world character, large rooms, and flimsy doors.
I glare at it, quieting myself like my father used to do to me when a salesperson came to the door of the farmhouse.
They pound louder.
“Hold on.” I could put on a robe, but that feels like too much work. Instead, I grab a large towel and wrap it around my chest. The thudding sounds like Taylor. He’s probably asking if I’ve cleaned Harrison’s room. Just my luck, the only other person in the dorm is the guy I’ve tried to stay clear of for the last five years. All we have in common is Harrison, his best friend and someone I’ve come to think of as a big brother.
Another bang.
“I said hold on.” I yank it open. It’s not Taylor filling the doorframe. It not even Harrison, my friend who said he was coming back to the States early from Iceland. No, it’s three huge guys. They have to be shifters; they’re all too good-looking. The two in front are twins, maybe? They have the same shape face, both of them four or five inches taller than me. And I’m five ten. Their glowing blue eyes are something out of one of the ShifterChat app filters, but their light brown hair is styled differently. One has a buzz cut, and the other one’s hair touches his ears. If they’re not twins, they must be brothers.
The man behind them is dressed all in black, his wool coat collar standing up around his neck. He’s even taller than the other two, and his amber-green eyes glare right through me. Like I’m doing something wrong. His dark hair is ruffled like he runs his hand through it too often. But when his cheek twitches, my lungs squeeze tight. Fear shoots through me, and I squeal and slam the door shut. But the front twin-brother sticks his foot in the way, and the wood bounces.
I grab my robe from the hook on the wall and put it on while fishing my phone out of my backpack. There’s nowhere to run. I’m not jumping out of a third-story window.
“We’re sorry to be a bother. We’re looking for Harrison Taggart’s room.”
I’m not going to answer this thug, even if I could get enough air out of my lungs to make a noise.
“Do you know him?” Buzz Cut steps closer to me.
My heart hammers. I shouldn’t have opened the darn door. “Harrison? I’m not sure I do.”
The twins look at each other. Like they think I’m lying. Well, I am. I might have grown up in the middle of a cornfield, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have street smarts. Well, I did open the door without asking who was there. My street smarts might be up for debate.
“You were in his apartment—” Buzz Cut says.
“Dorm room.” The taller one interrupts the twin in the front. Whoa, he’s definitely the one in charge.
“Yes, dorm room.” Out of his black wool fisherman’s coat, he pulls a phone. His accent is hard to pinpoint. It’s like nothing I’ve heard before.
“If you don’t know this Taggart, then why is his picture on your wall?” the tallest of the three asks, his voice slow and deep.
I turn to the picture collage on my wall. There’s a candid snapshot from last year’s end-of-the-year dorm party; Harrison has his arm around my shoulder.
There’s a spark and a prick against the skin on my neck, and I glance back at them. “Ouch.” I rub my neck. “What did you do that for?” The right twin holds his phone up to the other one. He touched me with it. “Listen, I don’t know where Harrison is. Now you need to get out of here before I call campus security.”
“She’s one of them,” Buzz Cut says and holds his phone up for the one in charge.
“Shut it, geminae,” the boss growls. His head is high, his shoulders straighter. A strand of hair falls onto his forehead when he nods at me. “Sorry to bother you, miss. If you run into Mr. Taggart, you can tell him we’re looking for him.”
“Are you mated?” the one who touched me with his phone asks.
“No.” I tighten the belt on my robe. I should call campus police, but I have a feeling there’s nothing they can do against the three massive men filling my door.
“Have a good day, miss.” The raven-haired one inclines his head to me, sending a shiver rocketing down my back. The whole bad boy vibe radiates off him. No, not boy, there’s nothing boy about him. He pulls my door shut.
My neck stings. I’m blinking, dazed, at the back of my closed door. The activities calendar from last semester is staring back at me, crinkled and ripped. What the heck did he do to my neck? I will my feet to the mirror next to my bed. Tilting my head, I can’t see anything. No red mark, no blood. Nothing. I need to call campus security. And tell them what? Three gigantic men asked me questions and one of them touched my neck? I reach for my phone but stop. Instead, I grab my sweats, throw my hair into a pony, and zip my coat up over my chin. The darn spot still stings. The temperature’s dropped since I came back from the lab; it’s cold. Not as cold as home, though. Bostonians think they know what cold is. They have no idea. Try getting the cows their feed when it’s thirty below.
But for a few employees hustling about, the campus is deserted. I stomp my feet in the atrium of the security lobby, more to get the attention of the attendant scrolling ShifterChat than to get any snow off of my boots.
An hour of my life gone, wasted talking to those idiots. I gl
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, pivot, and take a step back toward the building. I should give him a piece of my mind. But then I let the cold air fill my lungs. What good will it do? None. I’m wasting my time.
Whatever. A growl vibrates through me. My shower’s two hours late, and the joy of putting on fluffy socks and watching movies is gone. I stare at my neck in the mirror repeatedly. At first I don’t see anything, but with some serious selfie-taking skills, I contort my hand in such a way that I find the spot where the sloppy twin touched me with his phone. Which wasn’t a phone. It’s a small series of three dots.
One granola bar later, I fall asleep. My dreams spin to the dark-haired one in the back. Dark hair, amber eyes, his shoulders so wide they filled the entire doorframe. Why can’t I stop thinking about him? He’s not my type. I don’t go for the bad boys, the ones who cause problems. I like my men with brains. Ones who don’t accost me. I try hard to not think of him, but the harder I try, the more I do. I wake up to the morning light, twirled in my blanket like it’s a cocoon.
An extra-long shower will cure this funk. I love water—another reason I don’t want to move back to my childhood home, ever. I love looking at water. From a safe distance, it brings me peace.
I trudge down to the corner to my favorite food truck. Oddly enough, they’re parked a block closer to my dorm than normal. “Morning, Ed.”
“Morning, Annabelle. You want the usual?” He wipes his hands on his apron overtop of his winter coat.
“Yes, please.”
While I wait for my breakfast burrito, Ed’s wife pushes me a cup of coffee under the Plexiglass window.
“Did you have a nice Christmas?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. She’s been trying to get me to date her cousin for the last year. But that’s not something I’m up for. Dating. I’m sure he’s nice. And being related to the owners of my favorite establishment in Boston would have a definite upside. But I never get past the third date. I’m too smart, too nerdy, awkward as all hell; that’s what guys say if they don’t ghost me.
“I did. It was quiet.” Except for my uninvited guests yesterday. I sip the coffee with cinnamon.
“Just like you. You know you could have come to our house, right? We had a big party.”
“Thank you. But I’m allergic to parties.” I laugh.
“Your breakfast.” Ed hands me the silver-wrapped goodness.
“Thanks!” I pay. “Have a great day.” I’m a few steps away when I turn back. “Are you going to be here tomorrow?” The wind nips at my back. The cafeteria is closed this week, and the food in their truck doesn’t kill the tiny number in my bank account. Also, I don’t forget to eat when they are around. Who forgets to eat? Me, that’s who. I get involved in things—numbers, experiments, books, whatever—and hours slip away.
Ed looks at his wife.
“Not sure,” she says. “You eat up.”
I wave my goodbye. They wouldn’t come here during the holiday break just for me, would they? Of course not.
I sit around the corner in the quad. It’s cold, but we haven’t had a proper snowstorm yet this winter. There’s nothing but a few spare flakes on the ground, but the sky looks like one’s coming today. I savor my breakfast, and when I’m halfway done, I peek around the corner to where the truck sat. It’s gone. I’m both touched and sad.
Back in my dorm room, I finish my breakfast. My dissertation notes are stacked in piles on my bed. I focus on the numbers on my computer.
The afternoon flies by into the evening, and it’s six when I realize I spent the entire day with my nose in my calculations.
A knock sounds on the door.
My heart races. At least this one isn’t as insistent as yesterday’s. I’m not sure when the room became dark. It’s five p.m., and the only light in the room is the glow from my laptop. The harsh fluorescent bulb has my eyes blinking when I flick it on. “Coming.” I reach for the chair jammed in place under the door knob, then pull my hand back to my chest. “Who’s there?” My voice shakes, and my stomach flips. It’s weird. I’m both scared that it might be the wool-coat-wearing, raven-haired giant and hoping for it, too.
“Harrison.”
My shoulders relax, and I move the chair away from the locked door.
“Annabelle. You look great.” Harrison gives me a hug. “Thanks for cleaning up for me.”
“I’m glad you’re okay. There were some guys here looking for you, and . . . and I thought they seemed like not such good guys.” Really, they seemed deadly, but I don’t want to be overdramatic.
Harrison grabs my shoulder and spins me. “How many? And when? Did they do anything to you?”
Am I giving off damsel in distress vibes? I’m totally giving off damsel vibes. I shake my head and straighten my spine before I pull Harrison into another hug. Not that I like him as anything more than a friend. Oh, there was a time when I’d first come to Boston that I thought I did. “No, they seemed off. Yesterday, big guys, three of them. They asked if I was mated.” I step back out of his hug. “I’m glad you’re— Oh, hi Taylor. I didn’t know you were here.” Taylor was the reason I realized I’m buddy, not girlfriend, material for Harrison. They’re too polished, a level of sophistication I’ll never achieve. And I’m awkward, but I don’t mind it.
Taylor struts in and sits on my desk chair.
Harrison’s blue eyes have widened. “What did you tell them about being mated?”
“I said I’m not. Was that wrong? Should I have said yes?” I scrunch up my lips and nose. Harrison has become more like a big brother to me.
He shakes his head. “If they come again, text me.” He takes my cell phone out of my hand and enters a new number. “If you can, don’t mention seeing me.”
“I knew there was something off about them.” Well, at least the buzz cut guy. I’m not going to mention I had dreams about the taller dark-haired one.
Taylor stands. “They’re bad guys, Anna. Stay clear of them.” My uncle calls me Anna. I’m not a fan.
“Did you have a nice holiday, Harrison?” I change the subject because it’s really odd for him to come back to the city so soon. He talks about his brothers and his dad with such fondness.
“Short but nice. Did you get any work done?”
I want to complain about the bonehead lab director, but he’s Harrison’s friend. He’s friends with everyone. “Some. Not as much as I would have liked. I still have a couple of weeks. Are you staying around?”
“Yes,” Harrison says while Taylor says, “No.”
My head bounces between them, Harrison with his long hair and Taylor with his dark stare. And then the normal awkward silence falls. I shrug.
Harrison steps into the hall. “Call me if they come back.”
“I will. I’ll see you around, I guess. Maybe. Be safe, Harrison. Bye, Taylor.” Maybe I should tell them about the pinprick in my neck. But for some reason, I want to keep it to myself. Then again, I know they’ve been holding something back from me for a long time.
