Chapter 25
HELENA
He’s inside me, filling me with slow, careful thrusts, and for a moment I can scarcely believe it’s real.
I’m on my hands and knees, surrendering myself to the Winter King. Theron. The powerful, highborn fae male who might be my mate. And even if we’re not bound by fate, he plans to keep me.
Perspiration trickles down my temple, and I feel so hot and needy that I almost start begging him again.
His massive size is stretching me, inch by inch, but it doesn’t hurt.
The pleasure overwhelms any discomfort before it can even arise.
I wouldn’t mind if he thrust a little deeper, a little faster.
His dark chuckle reverberates in my head. Be careful what you wish for, darling human.
But to my great relief, he finally goes deeper, stretching me further, filling me up with his massive shaft, claiming me as the sweet, salty taste of his seed lingers on my lips.
I flush in remembrance at how I struggled to swallow all that he gave me. Every last drop. Perhaps the most shocking thing of all was the warmth of his seed. He is the Winter King, so I thought perhaps it would be like swallowing frost.
I instantly try to wipe the thoughts from my mind, but I know he’s already heard them. I feel his arrogant smirk even though I can’t see it. But he doesn’t laugh. Not this time. He’s too distracted by the tightness of my pussy around his cock.
I cling to the bed, gasping, every thought dissolving as he claims me. As he continues the thrusts, waves of affection keep flowing from him, surrounding me with warmth and the surety that I belong to him just as he belongs to me.
His thick length swells larger, and he gives a sudden growl as his fingers tighten on my hips. He rides me harder, but still not hard enough to inflict any pain. His scrotum smacks into my pulsating clit, over and over, and the pressure in my core winds tighter, threatening to unfurl.
Then his voice reaches me, a steadfast presence in my mind. I can’t wait to feel you climax on my cock, darling human. And I can’t wait to coat your womb in my seed.
His exact words are shocking. The way he says it… well, it’s almost like he wants to get me with child. Before I can question him or ponder it further, he swells even larger inside me and increases the pace of his thrusts.
As his scrotum keeps impacting steadily against my clit, a release finally overtakes us both, heat cresting and breaking. I feel it unraveling inside him at the exact moment the bliss starts to claim me.
Oh, gods. Oh, yes.
I register an abrupt flash of light and glance over my shoulder just in time to see Theron’s wings burst into existence. His muscles clench hard, his thick arms and broad shoulders tensing with raw power, every line of his massive body radiating brute strength.
Holding my gaze, he flares his huge, black, feathered wings.
Then there’s another flash, and his wings vanish.
I turn back around, undulating into him as the final waves of my release crash through me. Smaller quaking tremors ripple outward until only boneless satisfaction remains.
“Theron. Theron…” I say his name repeatedly, whimpering it like a prayer.
But while my release has concluded, his keeps… going. The warmth of his seed fills me, spurt after quaking spurt. His growls resound in the vast room, so loud I’m certain all of Braemar can hear his noises of pleasure.
Finally, after giving one last thrust, he slowly withdraws from my center.
Strong arms gather me close, drawing me back against his chest as he settles beside me on the bed. The steady beat of his heart thumps beneath my ear.
I let out a soft breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
For a long while, neither of us speaks. There is only the quiet crackle of the fire and the slowing of our breaths as we recover from our exertions. My thoughts start to drift.
Despite what just happened between us, despite his promise to keep me forever, there are many things unresolved between us.
Though I wish it weren’t so, the future remains uncertain.
I try my best to keep these thoughts entirely private, tucked into that secret, closed-off space in my mind.
But no matter what comes next, I know this moment will stay with me until my dying breath.
I adore you, darling human. His voice fills my head, an affectionate rumble.
It’s not the first time he’s said he adores me. Adore. Not love. Is he dancing around his true feelings? Is he waiting to learn whether we’re fated mates before he professes his love?
How will the priestess determine whether we’re mates?
I’ve always felt fiercely drawn to King Theron, from the very first moment our eyes met in the banquet hall.
Likewise, he was drawn to me in a similar way during that first meeting.
Before he even laid eyes on me. He’d felt a pull toward me just from hearing my voice.
I tense, wondering just how many of my thoughts he just heard. They flitted through my mind so quickly that I couldn’t hope to hide them all. But he doesn’t give me any indication. He just keeps holding me, offering me the refuge of his arms and his comforting presence.
I adore you too, Theron, I eventually say in return.
He shifts slightly and waves his hand through the air, causing a rush of tingles over my body.
Magic. I glance down at my thighs, which only moments ago were covered with his seed and my own arousal, only to find I’m…
clean. In addition, the covers are no longer damp beneath us.
I exhale a quick breath, surprised by his power, though I shouldn’t be.
He’s a highborn fae who can summon wings and influence the weather.
I’ve probably only witnessed a fraction of his magic.
You’re welcome. He kisses my temple.
I trail my fingers over his chest, lazily tracing the lines of his muscles, as I continue listening to the steady beating of his heart. Fatigue starts to weigh me down, and my eyes grow heavy as I remain in Theron’s arms.
The last thing I remember before drifting to sleep is the gentle murmur of his voice in my head. Sleep, my sweet mate. Yes, that’s what I’m going to call you. This closeness… this bond… I cannot fathom it representing anything but fate.
My dreams are pleasant, at first. I dream that I’m walking in a meadow holding Theron’s hand. He keeps smiling at me and telling me he loves me. But then… I find myself walking beside him on a snowy mountain, and he calls me Elssandra. When I try to tell him that’s not my name, no words come out.
Then I find myself falling into that cold, icy abyss.
Images come and go. Visions. Memories.
The past blurs with the present. In a distant part of my mind, I know none of this is real. I’m either dreaming or experiencing another vision. Yet I can’t wake up. I can’t do anything. I’m a spectator as the truth, the full, damning truth, is revealed to me.
First, I see Mama, though she’s very young. She’s holding a bundle in her arms, a baby. Me.
Standing on the edge of the forest outside the walls of Braemar, she tenses as a beautiful fae female emerges from the trees. A priestess. I think the newcomer is a fae priestess.
The priestess steps closer, her gaze sharp and unwavering, and Mama flinches, clutching the bundle tighter.
The wind whips through the trees, and I can feel the chill deep in my bones even through the dream.
The fae female’s eyes flare with recognition when she peers down at the baby in Mama’s arms.
“Well?” Mama asks. “Is she… fully human? Her ears aren’t pointed, but… I can’t quite tell.”
“You were foolish to write to me. Anyone might have intercepted your letter.” The priestess pauses and releases a long sigh. “But thankfully, I don’t believe anyone knows you contacted me.”
“I was desperate when I wrote the letter,” Mama says.
“And I’m grateful you answered. Grateful you came to take a look at her, at Helena.
But please, can you please tell me what sort of blood runs through her veins?
Given my former profession, her father could be any number of men, but there was one male in particular, a male from the far north…
” Her voice trails off, and her eyes gleam with tears.
“A fae male,” the priestess says.
“Yes. I-I am worried. If the baby is part-fae, I-I am afraid the father might try to take her away, or… she’ll become a target, and humans will want to hurt her, especially if she possesses any magic.”
The priestess holds out her arms. “I must take a closer look at her.”
Mama glares, but eventually, she hands the bundle over to the fae woman.
My heart races as I watch the scene continue. I feel helpless. So helpless. I want to wake up. I don’t want to know. And yet… I cannot look away. I cannot move.
The priestess smiles as the baby coos at her.
“Her father was definitely a fae male,” the priestess finally says.
“However, I don’t believe he was a full-blooded fae.
I suspect this baby is perhaps only a quarter fae, perhaps even less than that.
As long as you keep her away from the four fae courts, particularly the Winter Court, any magic she might be blessed with won’t emerge.
She must be near ussha, large concentrations of it, mind you, for an extended period of time if she is to have any hope of wielding magic.
” She glances at the stone walls of Braemar.
“You’ve picked an excellent hiding place. ”
Mama’s shoulders slump, and she reaches for the bundle, but the priestess suddenly tenses, and her ice-blue eyes suddenly go… pure white. White as snow. A moment later, she blinks and her eyes are back to normal. But she appears shocked. Utterly shaken.
“What is it?” Mama asks.
“This child,” the priestess says slowly, “is a reincarnated soul. In her last life, her first life, she was born in the Winter Court. She was fated to King Theron, but… she betrayed him.”
Oh, my gods.
Horror washes through me as I continue watching the vision unfold.
“What does this mean? What must I do with her?” Mama chokes on a sob. “I almost left her in the forest once, but I-I couldn’t bear to leave her to die. Fae or not, she is my child, and I love her.”
“The Winter King is a dark, vengeful male,” the priestess says. “Whatever you do, you must keep her hidden. Keep her inside the protective stone walls of Braemar. Never allow her to leave.”
The vision starts to fade, and I’m once again falling, plunging into the icy abyss.
I’m on a snowy mountain with King Theron again, except this time, he’s chasing me. His furious growls resound through the ice-covered forest. My feet slip on the ground, but I force myself to keep going. My sides ache, and my chest is heavy with grief.
“Elssandra!” he shouts my name, a plea for me to stop.
But I can’t stop. Unlike the last vision, in this one, I’m a participant. I’m inside Elssandra’s body, but I have no control over where I go or what I do. And somehow, deep in my bones, I know I’ve been here before.
A gust of winter wind pushes me down, and I turn around as the king approaches. He looms over me, his face a mask of fury. The worst thing of all? I can sense his emotions. I can sense the bond, the mating bond.
“You killed them,” I say, the words torn from my throat. “You killed my entire family. My aunts and uncles, all my cousins. After my parents died, they were all I had left. But you killed them all!”
“They conspired against me!” he roars. “And you helped. You were the one to put the poison in my food, fucking poison, in hopes that my powers would weaken enough to allow that traitorous cousin of yours to kill me.”
“He was born first!” I shout. “Your father’s blood runs in his veins, and he was born first!
My aunt had your father’s child long before she met her fated mate.
Which means my cousin, Resshan, was the rightful king.
He always was. I’m sorry but…” A sob bursts forth.
Sorrow consumes me. Why did I do it? Why did I listen to my cousin?
Why did I put him above my fated mate? Shudders wrack my body, and I scream in terror as King Theron steps closer.
He’s going to kill me. I know it. Not that I can blame him.
I betrayed him. After learning from a priestess that he was my fated mate, I approached him so he would recognize me as the one soul the gods designed just for him.
Then I allowed him to claim me. Yet even as the bond formed, I kept him at a distance, locked away in a secret corner of my mind, clinging to loyalty to my cousin and to the plot my family had laid out.
I scramble to my feet and take off at a run, icy branches pelting my face as I rush through the snowy forest.
Another roar sounds behind me. It shakes the trees and the very ground on which I’m running. King Theron, my fated mate, is closing in. And when he catches me, he will take my life.
Then I fall through the icy abyss, jolting back to awareness with a gasp.
I’m back at the castle in Braemar. The bedchamber is dark, the fire in the hearth burning low.
Theron’s arms are still wrapped around me.
I press my lips shut and go very still, holding my breath as I try to discern whether he’s awake.
Oh, gods. What if he’s lying here awake holding me as he witnesses my vision, my window into the dark, awful past?
But his breathing is steady. Rhythmic.
Slowly, I move out of his arms and lean against the padded headboard. His eyes are closed, and he looks peaceful. Tranquil. I envy him for it. I wait for several seconds, but he doesn’t move other than to breathe. He’s truly sleeping. Thank the gods.
I slip out of bed and quietly but quickly find some clothes. I dress in one of the warmest dresses Mama made me, and I hurry to put my boots on.
Somehow, I will escape this room. I must.
Before Theron awakes.
He killed me once. If he learns the truth—I am Elssandra—surely history will repeat itself.
I pause in the center of the room, staring at him as the waning firelight bathes him in orange. My heart breaks. I care about him. I… love him. And I can’t believe that I once betrayed him.
What a cruel twist of fate that the gods would allow my soul to be reborn into the same realm during the same time period that King Theron still occupies. Perhaps it’s my punishment. To know King Theron’s love and experience the beginning of an intimate mating bond, only for it to be ripped away.
“Goodbye, Theron,” I whisper. Then I turn toward the door and say a prayer to every god I’ve ever heard of, a prayer that my fae side will emerge just in time to help me thwart the king’s wards.