Kingdom of Tricksters and Fools (Kissed By Thorns #1)

Chapter Five

T he carriage traversed the treacherous cliffside road, carrying us down, down, down into the kingdom I only knew of in stories and nightmares. Proximity only confirmed what distance revealed.

It was beautiful.

My eyes were as wide as they could go pressed to the glass, and it still wasn’t wide enough to take it all in.

Snow fell in a light angel’s dusting, sprinkling on the sleepy village like sugar on a pastry. Perilous dark clouds held back the sun, but that didn’t stop them. Brilliant, softly glowing orblights shone on the frozen streets, reflecting through the ice and making the entire town seem as though it fell into a star.

Traditional Lyrican homes were tall, tightly packed, and bursting with activity. The complete opposite of the simple stone and wooden retreats spread out before me. The space between the hut-style homes afforded wide roads for little, skating faeriken—the children’s giggling bounced up the cliff-face. Behind every home were see-through dome structures.

“Greenhouses,” I whispered.

Once, back when he fancied himself in love with Mama and wanted to pretend to be a gentleman, Gisela and Jaclan’s father invited us to his home to see his greenhouse. I remembered walking through the sea of colors, breathing in the scent of fresh dirt, and thinking one day I would have this.

I’d learn to grow every kind of fruit, vegetable, berry, and tuber that Lyrican soil would produce. Most of it I’d sell in my produce shop, but a significant portion would always be free and available to the poor and struggling in Lyrica. No one in Gutter Galley would go hungry again.

Impossibly, it seemed that dream had already been achieved in the kingdom of Wind and Wild. No one we passed looked like they’d been hungry a day in their lives.

Laughing men and women strolled, skated, and weaved through the streets, wearing a simple but sturdy style of fur-lined tunics, long woolen gowns, and thick boots. The complete opposite of the dazzling finery and shining, prominent coudarian crystals I passed on the main streets of Lyrica.

We passed by the crown jewel of the town—a square just beginning to wake up as people filled it, visiting the merchants, food carts, and a frozen fountain. A massive, intimidating statue of Shadowsoul glared down at mothers and fathers while they placed their little children in the fountain to skate upon the frozen water.

Those mothers, fathers, merchants, and couples all stopped their business to watch our carriage go by, gifting me a view of cockscombs where hair would be, beaks for noses, leopard fur, and—

I frowned, narrowing on a young fae manning an apple cart. He had neither beak nor fur nor wings. Every bit of him poking out from under his wool cap was normal fae. In fact—

I know him! I tried to speak the words, but they wouldn’t come out. All the same, the recognition was undeniable, even though I couldn’t recall his name. That guy was from the Galley. His family signed him up for the war college and he left years before, but I remembered playing marbles with him on the steps of my home the day before he left.

I remembered because he came over specifically to play with me, saying it was his last chance to do so before he was gone.

Mama teased me after—saying he had a crush on me, and maybe one day when we were older, fate would bring us back together again.

“Looks like it has,” I whispered, feeling small before the uncomplicated beauty before me.

No dirty, long-faced children chasing after the carriage, begging for the smallest scrap to be tossed out the window. No noses high in the air. No sneers or avoided eye contact between passersby. Everything before me was the opposite of Lyrica—apart from one.

A huge, decadent castle loomed over us all—its towers and soaring cornices rising higher than the craggy cliffs. The palace of Lyrica was a shining jewel, but this monument before me was an obsidian saber. A strange comparison, but the only one that fit.

There was something sharp and deadly about the pitch-black sandstone, and bronze slats on every window my eyes could see. Light and color attacked the castle, and was soundly beaten and drowned—never taking up the fight again. And yet... it was magnificent.

“What is this?” I croaked. “How can all of this be here? Is it a trick?”

“It is no trick. That is your home,” Alisdair said, speaking of the castle though he did not look at it or me. “This is your kingdom. Your people.”

I swallowed hard. “How did all of this get here? Nothing I ever heard of Wind and Wild said it was... this.”

“What did you expect, Princess? A dirty cave hovel where we ran around naked, bayed at the moon, and picked the blood and bones of fae from our maws?”

I looked him straight in the eyes. “Yes.”

He chuckled. “What a relief this must be for you. The rest of your life will be nothing like the nightmare you imagined.”

I clenched my teeth, hearing the threat loud and clear. “Why did you do this?” The carriage jarred to a stop. “Why bring me here? Why lie? We had a deal. I was going to lie to the king of Lyrica for you. The greatest threat against you and—”

“Ah, but that’s where you failed in your calculations.” His smirk was a living thing, reaching across the carriage to chase the chill up my spine. “That old fool is no threat to me. None of you are,” he hissed. “You waste your time, your coin, and your lives on this silly little war, because it delays your accepting the inevitable—that your unimpeachable lord and master is me. ”

He leaped across the divide, trapping a scream in my throat when he slammed his hands on either side of my head—trapping me in. “Let them come. Let them water the earth with their blood and the soil with their bones. When all the fighters and the defiant are gone, I will stand above as all you see before you spreads from sea to sea, consuming the faelands.

“Soon, all will be cursed, everyone will be faeriken, and everything will be mine— Oh, excuse me. I meant ours. ” My heart curdled in face of his grin. “The worst part is, my queen, after all you’ve been raised to believe, and hate, now that you’ve seen what I’ve created, a part of you is thinking that might not be so bad .”

“I— You— No!” I cried, even as shame filled me. There was a brief and terrible moment when I thought this might be a better life than Lyrica’s. “Your horrid, lunatic’s rant aside, why didn’t you simply tell me you didn’t care about the heart or ending the war? Why lie when you were never going to take me home!”

He shrugged. “Turnabout is fair play, little bird. You lied to me first.”

“I did not—”

His hand flashed, snagging mine from my lap. My jaw cracked in a silent cry as he took the fingers that were inside me, wrapped his lips around, and sucked them clean.

“No blood,” he whispered. “No teeth.” Shadowsoul flicked my nose like a child, further humiliating me. “This is the deadliest game you’ll ever play, Princess. You’ll either need better lies, or better aim.”

“I—”

He climbed out of the carriage—done with the conversation and me.

“Wait. Come back here!” I tumbled out, chasing him down.

This wasn’t over. I was getting back to my family no matter what I had to do. Better lies or better aim? I chose better aim.

“Argh!” I leapt on his back and climbed him like a spider monkey. Hooking around his neck, I squeezed and wrenched—bellowing my war cry. “You’re going to take me back! Now!”

Alisdair didn’t slow his stride. He was as unbothered as the contingent of guards following us over the drawbridge. What were they for? Because protecting Shadowsoul from threats wasn’t it.

“Surrender, beast!” I got my legs over his shoulders and grabbed his horns. Holding on tight, I squeezed, straining to tear his wretched head off his shoulders. “One thing I said wasn’t a lie. I vowed to be your nightmare, your poison, the sword in your side.” I threw myself back, yanking him with me.

The castle doors opened for us, releasing a blast of heat and light.

“You won’t know peace for a single day in your life! While I breathe, I’ll see to it that you don’t! I’ll never—”

Claws seized me and the world spun. “Take this.”

Shadowsoul dropped me and I fell on a hard body. Many hard bodies. They barely caught me and stopped me taking us all down.

“Feed her. Bathe her,” Alisdair barked. “I want her ready for the ceremony within the hour.”

“Yes, my lord,” said a deep, smoky voice.

I burned watching him leave. The way he spoke about me. As though I was already the animal this place would turn me into.

“Are you all right, my queen?” I was set back on my feet, and finally given a chance to gaze upon the line of women waiting to greet us. One had thick, dark fur poking her pants and sleeves, and large beaver teeth down to her chin. Beside her was a horse faeriken. With the long muzzle and ears on her crown, she could be nothing but.

On the other side of the woman setting me on my feet was a tiger faeriken. Striped, fuzzy fur and unsettlingly long canines gleamed between her whiskers.

I tried to stop staring at them, and ended up staring at my catcher’s plume of black feathers and slitted eyes. She beamed at me.

“Welcome, Queen Emiana, it is our pleasure— Nay, our honor, to welcome you.”

They bowed low.

“Um, thanks.” I cut a look at the door.

The guards were drawing it closed. Gazing up, I saw the massive, thick slab of wood waiting to slam home on metal hooks, sealing the door, and me in.

“Will you allow me introductions?” she asked.

I turned away to face her. It occurred to me to make a run for it, but I’d breathe fresh air for all of a second before his guards tackled me. There has to be another way out of the castle.

Like through a servants’ entrance. My interest piqued. Servants like the ones before you. They are who I need.

“Yes, please,” I said, putting on a smile to match.

“I am Aeris. Head servant and personal attendant to you, my queen.” She bowed again, then kissed my hand on the way up. I would never get used to that. “This is Mavourneen.” She pointed to the horse-faced girl. “She is your royal dresser.

“This is Talulla.” Beaver girl. “She is your official taste-tester.

“And this is Eadaoin.” Tiger girl. “She is your companion. She will be by your side always, providing for your every need—recreational and sexual.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

Aeris’s smile still blinded. “This is Eadaoin, your companion.”

“I heard that part. What was at the end of your sentence?”

“She is here to serve your sexual needs,” she repeated, blowing my eyes wide. “That is, of course, when our lord and master is not available to satisfy them for you. Eadaoin is quite skilled.” Grasping the woman’s shoulders, she brought her closer. “She was chosen just for you.”

“Nope.” I tossed my head. “No and nope.”

“My lady?” Aeris’s smile slipped. “Is something wrong?”

“Eadaoin will not be serving my sexual needs. That has been removed from your duties.”

“Oh.” For some reason, Eadaoin slumped. “It is because I am hideous to you. I knew it. I’m so sorry, my lady.”

“No, that’s not—”

Aeris sighed, nodding. “Of course, I should’ve known. My queen, I will find your next companion myself. One who has yet to undergo the change. She will be the epitome of Lyrican beauty.” Another deep bow. “But she will not hold a candle to you.”

“There will be no she!”

“No she?” Talulla made an odd sound, clicking her teeth. “Ah, I see. Our queen is saying she wants a man.”

“A man?” Aeris said the word like it was foreign. “You wish for a male companion? But, my queen... you’re a married woman.” Reproach was so heavy in her eyes, I almost shrunk. “Our lord will not like this.”

I threw up my hands. “Let me be clear. I have no wish for a sexual companion of any gender. At all. Ever. However, a regular companion who—once again does not perform any sexual acts—would be wonderful.” I tipped my head to Eadaoin. “I’m sure you’re perfect for the job.”

“Thank you, my queen.” Eadaoin’s smile returned. “It is my honor to serve.”

She truly sounded it. Rolling through that exceedingly normal, quiet town was enough of a shock to my system, but now this? Faeriken were mindless, bloodthirsty beasts. A scourge on our land, and the cursed shame of our race. Never did I think I’d be this close to faeriken, let alone allow one to take my hand and lead me somewhere that wasn’t to my death.

“You will not be serving tonight,” Aeris told Eadaoin. “Our lady doesn’t require you. You may have the evening off.”

“Thank you, Aeris.” Eadaoin’s gaze flicked over my shoulder.

That was all the warning I got before a tall, pine-scented figure brushed past me, and tore her clothes off.

“Ahh!”

The armor-clad guard shoved Eadaoin against the wall, unheeding of my screams. Kissing down her neck and chest, he sucked her nipple in his mouth, tearing a moan from her lips.

A flush rose to her furry cheeks. I expected her to kick, slap him, demand he carry her somewhere private!

Her legs spread—both knees touching the wall. “Ah, yes, fuck me!”

That was all the permission he needed to tear his pants off too. One look at his gray, leathery bottom, and I was gone.

I had no idea where I was going. I simply needed to be somewhere I understood.

What is this cold, strange place? Why is nothing as it’s supposed to be?

I took off down a dark, rounded hallway. It reminded me of an owl’s undergrown burrow. Or the burrow of a creature much less cute. Somewhere in this rat cave there had to be an empty room with a door I could slam shut and lock. This was all too much for me. I needed a quiet place to think.

Rapid footfalls chased me down. “My lady, you’re going the wrong way, silly. Your chambers are this way.” Aeris grasped my shoulders and spun me around. “Don’t worry. Talulla has gone ahead to prepare your feast. It will be waiting in your chambers, along with a fresh change of clothes. I’ll take you to your bath now.”

I didn’t know what to say as she led me past Eadaoin and her lover. He now had his sheathed sword in his hand, and was furiously fucking her pussy with the hilt. Something told me that wasn’t his commanding officer’s intention for the sword when they issued it to him.

Aeris led me down another circular hallway to a pair of double doors. Sweeping them open, she wasn’t there to catch my jaw when it fell.

“What... is this place?”

“Welcome, Queen Emiana.” Aeris passed through, holding her hands to the ceiling. “To Castle Riagin.”

I took a step, then another, then one more. Getting closer didn’t make it more real.

Days ago, I was forcibly confined in the most opulent, beautiful, richest palace in the faelands.

It was a steaming pile of dog shit next to Castle Riagin.

Everywhere I looked, were diamonds and gold.

Diamond chandeliers clung to the domed ceiling, raining rainbow rain on my slippered feet. Golden statues lined the wall—each a different immortalized fae-beast. Were they important people in Wind and Wild history? Did they have a real, documented, and celebrated history?

The strange, dark walls remained in this place, but somehow, it was a perfect contrast to the gaudy golden lounges, diamond pedestals, and deep plush carpet. It was normal and simple beside the obscene and jaw-dropping.

“What is all of this doing here?” I wheezed. Did Alisdair steal it? When? For a century, we’ve brought the fight to him. He’s never had the chance to raid Rajadom, Sarabai, Quatassa, or Lyrica. There’s never been a report of him plundering our wealth.

“All of this? Oh, you mean all of the statues and diamonds and gems? It is a bit much, but it serves a purpose. Castle Riagin is the exclusive employer of bird faeriken.”

“What does that mean?” I asked as she led me off again.

“They— Well, we,” she corrected. “Are overly attracted to shiny things. The urge to possess them only gets stronger as we—” Her jaw worked, but the words didn’t come out.

Of course. The cursed can’t speak of their affliction.

“Anyway, it led to a lot of thefts and tensions in the village, so in his wisdom, our lord and master brought all of us here, and hired us as his servants with free room and boarding. Now, when something shiny goes missing, it is no matter. It is still somewhere in the building.”

It was my turn to open my mouth, and say nothing. I had to admit that was an elegant solution. Also, a diplomatic and bloodless one. No other king would consider hiring a race of thieves to work in his palace, but he more than anyone should know they were suffering from a curse not of their making.

Aeris guided me down another hallway and up a set of stairs with golden banisters and cold, shiny marble pressing back against my feet. I didn’t know where she was taking me until we turned a corner, and found the door already open.

Hot, vanilla-scented steam wafted out, filling my nose and my mind with the memory of how long it’d been since I had a bath.

I crossed the threshold, stepping into a porcelain paradise. Waterfalls escaped from the ceiling, all feeding into a huge water basin sprinkled with rose petals. Candles flickered from dozens of golden perches, casting a warm glow over the sun-shielded space. A small half-wall designated the privy, and a large, porcelain lounge dominated the middle of the room. I assumed that was the place for me to stretch out and luxuriate in the heat and steam.

“This, Queen Emiana, is your private baths.”

“Please, don’t call me that. Emiana,” I clarified. “Call me—”

I tried saying my name. Nothing. I attempted a version of my name. Nothing. I even attempted my siblings’ names, but the clever, wretched curse didn’t let that leave my lips either. Too much of a giveaway to my true identity.

“Ana,” I burst out in frustration. “None of this my queen or my lady stuff. Just call me Ana.”

“I am deeply flattered, my lady, but I could never address you so informally.”

“But—”

“Come,” she barked, clapping her hands. “My lady requires her bath.”

That was the cue. Half a dozen attendants flooded the room, and descended on me.

My cries fell on unheeding ears as they stripped me, unwove the tiara from my borrowed hair, took my shoes, pulled down my underclothes, and deposited me on the lounge.

One of the attendants ran for the bucket beside the water basin, filled it, grabbed a bar of scented soap, and they commenced with scrubbing.

“Whoa, hey!” I scuttled away when Aeris slipped her scrub pad between my legs. “I can bathe myself— Actually, I insist on bathing myself.”

She just laughed. “Don’t be silly.” Deceptively strong arms pushed me right back down. “I know you think us savages, but I swear to you, Queen Ana, you will want for nothing while you live in this castle.”

Two men in light armor walked into the room.

“What the fuck!” I snatched a water bucket, using it to cover Emiana’s bits as best I could. “What do you think you’re doing just walking in here? How dare you. Get out!” The shock was mine, but the imperious tone wasn’t.

I sounded like an outraged princess, instead of a regular outraged girl. Was that how quickly the curse took hold? How long until I forgot my family’s faces? Two days?

“Forgive us, Your Majesty.” The fore-man dropped to his knees, bending his head low. His wings crowned to stabilize him—a curtain of beautiful, iridescent black feathers.

Raven feathers, if I was correct. It was hard to be sure, because the curse had yet to reach his face.

He straightened, giving me a proper look at his face, and I near gasped—clutching my bucket tighter.

Inky eyes trapped me, sucking me down into bottomless depths where the sun never shone. Shocking, haunting, unnatural—but that wasn’t what cowed me. From one look, I knew why the curse struggled to touch more than his eyes.

Even it knew to mar such a face was a crime against Meya and nature.

Hawk nose; rock-hard, dimpled chin; long, black locks framing an unblemished face; and that smile. He had a smile like he’d just done something naughty, and no matter what it was, he was going to make you do it too.

The second-most handsome faeman I’d ever seen, solidly throwing Kirwan from the spot.

“We welcome you to Lumenfell, Your Great and Wonderful Majesty.” He bowed deeper, his forehead touching the wet tile. “I am Bradach. This is Foalan.”

Say hello to number four, Kirwan, you ugly bastard.

Foalan tipped his head to me, and silver strands fell over his golden eyes.

I didn’t know where to direct my stare. At the wolf ears perched high and alert on his head. His rounded, almost snout-like nose. Or his broad shoulders; trim, masculine beard; sharp, glass-cutter’s cheekbones, and full, cherry-kissed lips.

How did the curse choose their animal? Why was Foalan becoming a wolf, and Bradach becoming a raven? Was it even polite to ask?

A deep, soothing baritone rolled from Foalan’s throat. “It is a pleasure, my queen.”

“It is our pleasure to serve you,” Bradach said from the floor. “We are your royal back scrubbers. At your service.”

My eyes bugged. “Really? You are?”

“Fuck no, keva .” He popped up, dropping that subservient tone so fast, I looked for it on the floor. “Damn, they say you Lyricans are a pampered, high-nosed lot. Royal back scrubbers? What’s wrong with you?”

I gaped at him—both for plopping down next to me bold as day, and calling me a keva —otherwise translated from High Fae as strange person, odd, or freak. “I didn’t say that, you did, and— Hey!”

Bradach tugged on my bucket, making me cling on for dear life. “Why are you hugging this? They need it to wash you.”

“I’m hugging this because two strange men just walked in on me taking a bath.”

“What? Where!”

No word of a lie, Bradach and Foalan both spun around, clutching their hilts and looking for the strange men.

“I meant you two,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Please, leave.”

“Us?” Bradach’s brows snapped together. “Why?”

“Because I’m naked.”

“Oh, that?” He waved that away. “We don’t mind.”

“I do.”

“Do what?”

“Mind!”

Understanding finally dawned on his handsome face. “Oh, I see. Forgive us, my queen. Aeris told us to study your customs, but we thought this one was a joke,” he said. “Lyricans can only be naked in the same room if everyone is naked.”

“Oh, right.”

“Of course.”

“I can’t believe I forgot,” Aeris cried. “Queen Ana, please, forgive me. No wonder you’re uncomfortable.”

Bug-eyed and slack-jawed, I didn’t have words as they all stripped off their clothes, leaving me and my bucket in a room full of naked faeriken. What was even worse... Bradach was right. It was socially acceptable in Lyrica for me to be naked in a bathhouse with other women—

The key word being women.

Bradach sprawled across my stone chaise, making himself comfortable. Foalan sat straight-backed and crisscrossed beside me. I sat like a folded-over pretzel, using all of my limbs to cover all of my parts after Aeris finally wrestled the bucket away.

“Once again, introductions,” Bradach began. I hyper-focused on his face and didn’t let my eyes drift an inch lower. “Foalan Volk. He is commander of Lord Lumenfell’s army.”

“Lumenfell?” I broke in. “Who is Lord Lumenfell?”

“Who is Lord Lumenfell?” he repeated slowly. “He’s your husband. You married him a few days ago, keva. Don’t you remember this?”

My face flushed from more than steam. “I wasn’t informed that he... went by another name.”

“As in, you thought his subjects referred to him by the insulting, blasphemous slur, Shadowsoul ?” Foalan growled. “To even let that title leave my lips is offensive.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean—”

“He is Lord Alisdair Lumenfell here,” Aeris said in a kinder, more patient tone. “A name as fitting for him as it is for our kingdom: the land the stars forgot.”

I hummed quietly. Strangely, I agreed. Lumenfell did suit the dark, brooding figure I was coming to know too well. A man forgotten by the stars, the light, the radiance and wonder of the world. Outside was mesmerizing beauty, but inside... was darkness.

“As for my true title,” Bradach continued. “Why, the list is endless. I am Bradach Arasu, my lord’s right hand, his most trusted advisor, his sage counsel, his closest companion, his truest comrade.”

I stilled, alighting on one word: companion.

“Oh,” I breathed. “I see.”

Aeris heaved a sigh. “Bradach, how you overreach.” She had moved on to washing Emiana’s hair. Long, glistening red strands sluiced off the chaise, and hardened my heart. I dropped my hands and legs, sitting up bold and straight. Why was I being protective of a body that wasn’t mine?

“There is no overreach.” I stretched out my legs and Bradach immediately slid away. Was he avoiding my touch? Did faeriken dislike their normal fae counterparts as much as we disliked them? “My lord trusts me. He confides in me. I am his friend.”

“Preposterous,” Foalan spat, drawing my eyes, then blowing them wide. I’d never seen such fury on someone’s face, but then, no one I knew had fangs. “I would never presume to claim such titles, but if my lord were to bestow them on anyone, it would be me.”

“Do you think so?” Bradach’s grin was smug. “Then tell me why my lord asked me personally to stay behind and protect Lumenfell while he traversed the summerlands to acquire his bride?”

“He asked me, you fool,” Foalan replied through gritted teeth. “You were merely in the room.”

“You are recalling that incorrectly,” Bradach breezed. “One too many hits to the head with a sword hilt will do that to an old man.”

Foalan’s lips peeled back from his teeth. “A mere two weeks ago my lord threw his favorite coat in my direction, entrusting it to me.”

“Ah, but the day before he tore off my coat to wipe his bloody sword,” Bradach shot back, “ entrusting me with the care and cleanliness of his weapons.”

My gaze bounced between them, brows high in disbelief. Was this real? Were they truly fighting over the cold and withheld affections of that cruel man?

“Last moon an intruder broke into the castle, and my lord had me flogged only a hundred times, instead of the thousand I deserved,” Foalan said, smiling his triumph.

Bradach smiled wider still. “When my lord arrived this eve, he told me to have a meal prepared and sent to his study because he was... hungry.”

Two attendants gasped.

Aeris halted sudsing my hair. “What? He said this to you? Truly?”

I pulled a face at the lot of them. “Is this a jest? Surely it doesn’t matter that—”

“No,” Foalan sliced in. His expression was terrible. “The jest is that I believed myself higher in my lord’s esteem. Bradach has bested me. My lord has never shared such intimate knowledge of himself with me. Clearly, I have displeased him.” Foalan hung his head.

It was like looking upon a man in mourning, but the one mourning should be me. What kind of person was so closed off, it was a shock and delight for him to tell you he’s hungry?

My husband—that was who. I would never get a being such as him to fall in love with me. Which was why my only option was to run.

“So it’s true.”

I flicked up to Bradach, but he wasn’t looking at me. Following my gaze, I saw one of the attendants carrying a large, blue crystal bowl. She waved her hand over it and it filled with white, milky liquid.

I was so shocked, my brain froze—senses fading out.

“...true. My lord honors his bride with the full and true mating ceremony,” Aeris said. “The ceremony is nigh.”

“Fuck it to Meya, Princess,” Bradach cried. “Lord Alisdair intends to bond with you and make you his eternal mate? What’d you do to piss him off?”

If anything could’ve torn me from the miraculous sight of a woman performing magic, it was that. “Eternal mate? What are you talking about?”

“She rejected the marriage vows and plunged his own sword through his chest,” Aeris dropped.

Bradach whistled. “That’ll do it.”

“Excuse me? Hello,” I said louder. “What does that mean? What eternal mate?”

“The ceremony they’re getting you ready for.” Bradach moved aside as two women approached me with towels. “It would seem you’re to be married again. Properly, this time.”

“Properly?”

“The faeriken respect the old traditions of marriage and bonding.” Aeris’s voice reached me from underneath the vigorously rubbing cotton. “Your people threw those traditions away to allow for the travesties they commit against their wives and women. Vows of fidelity? I think not.

“Our lord honors you, Queen Ana,” she gushed. “He means to make you his mate and bonded for eternity. Only death will separate you.”

I whirled on Bradach. “If this is such an honor, why did you speak of it like a punishment?”

Bradach shrugged. “Because when my lord left, he made it clear in no uncertain terms that he planned to leave you at the altar. This whole arranged marriage nonsense was obviously a brazen attempt to get a spy across our borders,” he said, black eyes pinning me through. “You.

“He played along, signed your worthless treaty, accepted the many crystals, jewels, and money bestowed upon our kingdom as a wedding gift, but in the end, there was to be no marriage between Lord Lumenfell and Princess Emiana of Lyrica. But then—”

“I put a sword through his chest,” I whispered, lips numb.

“Exactly, keva.” He made to clap me on the back, then stopped—pulling back. “With one simple, insane move you proved beyond a doubt that you are no spy. In fact, you have no subtlety at all. There couldn’t be a worse spy than you.”

I choked. “And for that he went through with the wedding? For that, he ripped me from my home and dragged me from the faelands!? It is your precious Lord Shitsoul that’s insane!”

Growls peeled from Foalan’s lips, standing my neck hairs on end. Suddenly I was back in the alley with the wolf.

“I humbly insist, my queen,” he said, his even tone at odds with his bared fangs, “that you do not speak of our lord in such a manner.”

Aeris screeched, shooting my heart in my throat. “How dare you, Foalan! Do not threaten our queen.”

That was a threat?!

“After these many long decades, Lord Lumenfell has finally chosen his mate, and he’s chosen her.” She took my shaking hand. “It truly is an honor. He must see something special in you.”

“Or.” Bradach’s voice grated on my ears. “He sees a special and honorable opportunity... to draw out your punishment. You thought yourself his assassin, now you find yourself his pet.”

Silence fell over the room, smothering me. What did it mean that no one was arguing with him? Not even Aeris.

I was quiet for a long time—long enough for the attendants to guide me to the vanity and begin braiding my hair while Aeris left and came back with a plate of food for me. I barely glanced at the shaela bread, grapes, roasted chicken, or wine. The food grown and bred from this cursed soil would turn me into one of them. Not a morsel of it would cross my lips.

I won’t be here long enough to need to. Eventually, all of these hovering servants will leave my side and I’ll have a chance to run. The question was when?

“What is about to take place?” I spoke up. “I’ve heard things. Legends. Stories. About the old ceremonies. The customs were done away with for more reasons than war wives. What does my dear husband believe he’s going to make me do?”

There. In the mirror. Bradach and Aeris exchanged a look.

Aeris cleared her throat, making the feathers on her neck puff up. “It is very simple. You will both be painted with the traditional marriage runes, you will make your vows to one another, and in the morning, after consummation, the runes will take root in your skin and in your soul—binding you before Meya, in life and death.”

She stood me up and draped a black, sheer gown over my body—covering everything and concealing nothing.

“Will we be alone for the”—I forced the word out—“consummating.”

She blinked. “Of course, my queen. Why? Is it your preference to have an audience? My Lord Lumenfell doesn’t care for such, but if that will stoke the flames of your desire, I’m sure I can convince—”

“No,” I bleated, louder than necessary. “That is not how my desire flames are stoked. I merely asked because we’ve not had a true minute by ourselves since we married. I should like to finally be alone with my husband.” To get rid of him for good and make my escape.

“Why?” A hand snaked across my vision and helped itself to my grapes. “To try your hand at another assassination attempt?”

My face heated. The power of mind reading wasn’t possible through magic or curses, but right then I would’ve sworn the raven man did.

“That would be very stupid, keva.” He tossed a grape in the air and caught it between his teeth with a strange, rapid, head-jerking motion. Rather like a pecking bird. “Do you see this palace with its high walls, barred windows, and battalion of guards? They all exist to protect them ,” Bradach said, pointing to the attendants. “Not Lord Lumenfell. He doesn’t need walls, weapons, or guards. He is the Lumenfell Army. We are merely his toy soldiers, brought out to play when he’s bored.”

His smile sent goose pimples down my spine. “Alone or before an entire wedding party—your sword will never strike true.”

I glared into those glittering orbs. “Has anyone told you, Bradach Arasu, that you are a tiresome man?”

He grinned, chuckling. “They never stop.”

The candles flickered—the one beside me whooshing out. I knew even before Bradach’s grin melted away and he shot up, straightening tall and proud before his king.

I turned to face him. Even then, I couldn’t help but be struck by his presence. His heavy black coat should’ve swallowed him, but he swallowed it. Alisdair filled that coat to bursting, stretching his seams, and its ability to conceal the naked form underneath.

I blushed for no good reason. I had already seen what was under there, although if I was honest, it would be a long time—possibly a century—before Alisdair Shadowsoul stopped being the man to which I compared all other men. His sculpted form, muscled thighs, ridged abdomen, and obscenely large cock had no equal.

Foalan dropped at his feet. “My lord, forgive me. I don’t know what I’ve done to fall in your estimation, but I apologize utterly, and accept my punishment. Please, my lord, lift my shame and bestow the cleansing fire of pain—”

Shadowsoul kicked him in the teeth. My surprised scream echoed off the wall.

Burying his foot in his gut, Alisdair lifted the commander off his knees and kicked him across the room, smashing a dent in the marble wall, and his head. He broke no more a sweat than if he kicked a feather.

Foalan coughed and wheezed, spitting up blood. “Th-thank you, s-sir.”

No one went to him. Not even his supposed friend, Bradach. He didn’t so much as glance in his direction.

“Come,” Alisdair barked. “The ceremony begins.”

He turned his back on me, sweeping out.

I bristled. “Is that how you summon your wife to the ceremony that will make her your eternal mate? One would think you can do better than that.”

Alisdair halted in the entrance, his back to me. “One also would’ve thought this harem of clucking hens would’ve disabused you of the notion that it’s wise to speak to me this way.”

“Fuck you. I’ll speak to you any way I please.”

Aeris, Bradach, and the attendants were finally gaping at a wretched sight—me.

The washing girls backed away from me so fast, they were across the room before I could blink.

Slowly, he turned, and the smile on his lips... I nearly ran away too.

“The clucking hens have told you.” He laughed—a deep, flowing sound. “You know what awaits you at the end of this walk, and you believe a foul mouth will change my mind.” He tsked. “Think it through, little bird. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want your dirty mouth all the more?”

I flushed hot.

I knew what he was doing. I stepped on his overconfidence by using sex to toy with him. Shadowsoul was proving he could do the same to me, but better. Yes, I knew this tactic.

Didn’t mean it wasn’t working.

I stood as tall as my shaking, naked knees would let me. “You mistake me, husband. I’m not trying to get you to change your mind. What I want is for you to do what no one has done since this all began.

“Ask me,” I stated. “Ask me to take this walk with you. Ask me to become your eternal mate. Ask and I will. Ask... on your knees.”

All eyes shot from me to Shadowsoul, awaiting his answer. No one moved. No one breathed.

His eyes locked on mine—dragging me under the depths and drowning me. I almost didn’t notice when he took a step, closing the distance, bringing those impossibly bright pools closer.

Alisdair stopped before me, and knelt.

My eyes widened. He’s doing it? He’s truly doing it. What does this mean? Is this not a cruel, sick punishment to him? Does he truly want me to be his—?

Strong arms seized me, tossed me over his shoulder, and carried me off.

“Hey! Put me down!” I pummeled his back, hitting harder for every raucous laugh belted from Bradach’s throat. “Put me down this moment!”

Shadowsoul didn’t pay me a lick of attention. Carrying me through the shining, gilded halls, he ignored my ranting, kicking, raving, and my bluff.

Of course I wasn’t going to follow him to the ceremony if he proposed. I only wanted him to drop his head, so I could break the basin over it.

Mind reading did not exist, and still he remained twelve steps ahead of me.

“Put me down!”

Alisdair carried me through double doors and a blast of cold burrowed into my bones, banishing the lingering warmth of the steamy bath. The world spun and I was right way up, gazing at an impossible sight.

Roses, violas, poppies, and primrose. Bluebells, snapdragons, witch hazel, and hellebores. Flowers of every color and type surrounded me, fighting to spread their loveliness among blanketing, smothering white.

“A garden?”

A beautiful, snow-covered garden spreading as far as the towering woods would allow. It was amazing. Dare I say, even more amazing than the Lyrican palace gardens. That place was taken up by gaudy, large statues of past kings while here, there was nothing but the natural beauty of nature’s prize.

“What is this place?” A white-dusted path lay before me, leading to a silver cauldron nested among a frozen rose bush. I went closer, gazing down into dark, inky liquid like the white stuff Aeris carried out behind us—followed by four other servants. Two of them men, and one carrying a bowl identical to hers. Bradach and a limping Foalan came outside behind them.

Somewhere amid the time I was being carried around like a child, Aeris, Bradach, Foalan, and the attendants dressed themselves in similar sheer black cloaks.

I scanned my mind for trace knowledge of ancient High Fae marriage customs, but returned nothing. Not only did I not know, but it seemed Emiana didn’t know what was about to happen here either.

“Not that it matters,” I said, stepping back and facing him. “I had no wish to marry you in the first place. I am hardly going to marry you more . You can force me into that cauldron. You can make me repeat my vow to make your days a nightmare, your nights cold and barren, and your life short. But what you will not do is make me your mate in any way that matters.

“The wife you never wanted is going,” I said, walking off. “This time, I leave you at the altar.”

“Another bold speech,” he replied to my back. “Do hang on to that bluster after you’ve fallen off the cliff you’re headed toward, and land in the nest of Taken living below.”

I ground to a halt—the cold leeching the feeling from my bare feet. Sharp, naked fear choked at the very thought of seeing those terrible creatures again.

“Or,” he drew out, grinding my teeth. “You come back, willingly step into this cauldron, recite the proper vows, and take your place as Queen Emiana, High Lady of Lumenfell.”

“Why in Meya’s name would I do that?” I snapped.

“Because then and only then... will I accept your deal.”

“My deal?” I turned around, interest piqued despite my instincts yelling at me to run. “What deal?”

He threw off his cloak, exploding heat in my treacherous, stolen body. I thanked the cold. That I could blame for the unfortunate effect he had on me.

“I was more than clear,” he said, stepping into the cauldron. “My little bird flying away to whisper lies into the ear of a pompous, old fool is no boon to me. What I want is you.”

“Me?” I cried, stepping back.

“I want you as my queen and my wife in every sense of those words. Your body mine to plunder. Your lips mine to plump. Your hand mine to hold as you take your seat beside my throne. I want to bend you over and take you like the beast you believe me to be—making you cum so hard, your screams pierce the veil and Meya strikes us down from sheer jealous—”

“Stop!” I shrieked, face on fire. Did this man know shame? How could he speak to me like that in front of his servants, companion, and the commander of his army! “Why would you want these things? Your man, Bradach, told me the truth. You never wanted me here. You had no intention of marrying me.”

“I want these things, my queen...” His smile stretched over his sharpened canines. “Because you don’t.”

I chilled, lips pressing into a thin line. With that, the question of who was right—Bradach or Aeris—was answered. This wasn’t about love, attraction, or honor.

This was punishment.

“You say such a thing and then expect me to willingly get into that cauldron? You’re insane.”

His smirk went nowhere. “If you do not willingly step into the cauldron, I’ll have to assume your desire to return to your homeland was not as strong as you led me to believe.”

I stilled.

“Seems those things you needed to do were not important after all.”

I licked my lips, swallowing hard. Just like that, he had me. “You’re saying you’ll let me return to Lyrica?”

“Circumstances will say, Princess, not me.” He swept out his hands. “Within this cauldron, we will name our true vows—yours to do everything in your power to be free, and mine to do all in my power to keep you caged.

“As the runes dry on our skin, you will run,” he hissed. “Run as fast and as far as you can. If you elude me until daybreak, the die is cast and you will have won. I will be rune-bound to let you leave without a fight.”

“I—”

“But,” he sliced off. “If I catch you, little bird, I will ravage you where you fall—consummating our unholy union before Meya and all who’ve gathered to see. And so it will be every night until you’ve either escaped your fate, or accepted it.”

I took a step toward him, then another. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? This could be another trick. A lie. Elude you until daybreak and you’ll let me ride away from you and this frozen wasteland forever? There’s nothing to hold you to your word.”

A soft cough drew my attention away from him.

“Excuse me, my lady, but he can be held to his word.” Aeris stepped up next to the cauldron. “I told you your people abandon the ancient ways for this reason. They couldn’t step into the cauldron and promise fidelity if it was a promise they never intended to keep. The runes of bonding and marriage hold all to their word—even a being as powerful as our lord.”

I eyed the bowl of viscous soup in new light. I couldn’t be blamed for not knowing much about rune magic. Even if my poor little school had been allowed to teach us, it wasn’t something women needed to know.

Our magic was inside of us. A part of us. It bent to our will by command alone—before it’s taken from us. We didn’t need runes to make magic obey us.

“Hmm.” I took another step. “Will... Will the runes work on me? With my magic bound as it is?”

“They don’t need to work on you, my lady. As you said, they only need to work on him,” Aeris replied. “And they will.”

I met Alisdair’s gaze. “You would do all of this just—”

“—to ravage that sweet, toothless pussy to my heart’s content,” he finished. “Of course, my queen. As any man would do, and more. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

“Stop it,” I barked, covering my chest. As I said, I knew what he was doing. That didn’t make me able to stop my body’s reaction to him.

“Toothless?” Bradach muttered, clenching my teeth tighter.

Alisdair held out his hand. “Have we a bargain?”

I hesitated. My hand drifted down and stroked the bracelet he gave me on our wedding day. Our first wedding day.

Am I truly doing this? Bounding the chains to him even tighter all for the hope he’ll let me leave this place?

This may be your best chance, another voice said. Escaping this smirking, pampered fae-beast is only the first step. You’ll still need to traverse miles of snow, then the miles of a barren desert battlefield to get home. You’ll need food, supplies, clothes, transport, allies. You’ll need a way to get past those horrible creatures lurking around the town. All much easier to collect if I’m not doing it in secret.

I will plan my escape right in front of him, but by the time he sets off on the chase, I’ll already be gone.

To make a deal, you have to have something the other wants. Shadowsoul wanted to watch the little bird screech and flap in its cave while he laughed at the silly creature’s attempts to escape. And I wanted to go home—more than anything.

“We have a bargain.”

“Wonderful.” Aeris clapped, bouncing on her heels. “Come, come, my lady. Allow me the honor.”

I chanced one more look at the trees, wondering at my chance of taking off and running right then.

A vision of the Taken flashed in my mind and I turned back, taking Aeris’s hand. She helped me up and into the basin. I hissed when the liquid touched my skin.

It was warm and slimy like slipping into a vat of nose leakings.

“What happens now is quite simple,” Aeris said for my benefit.

I tried to look at her, but Alisdair’s eyes held me fast—refusing to let me look anywhere but at him.

“There is no officiant because this ceremony is between you and Meya,” she continued. “You will paint your vows on each other with runic ink, then we shall bathe you in the pure sealing magic of Meya. If your promises are true, the rune will bind to your skin. If you lie, the ink will scald you until you burn alive and die.”

“What!?”

Aeris was already off and rushing to get everyone into position. For the life of me, I didn’t understand her excitement. She was like a proud mother on her son’s wedding day. Was it a birdlike innocence that prevented her from seeing this was not a happy occasion?

“Why do this?” I asked softly. “Why offer me any deal?”

“I have answered this question.”

I tensed. “Tormenting me cannot be the reason you’re enduring this ceremony. We could’ve made the same bargain without all of th-this.” My voice cracked as one of the servants removed my robe, leaving me naked before his feasting eyes. “In fact, you could’ve countered with your true terms in the carriage, instead of making me believe you were taking me home.

“Why are you doing all of this to bind yourself to a woman you never wanted to marry?”

“Very well. If plain words do not suffice, I will tell you a story.” His gaze drifted off me to someone over my shoulder. He nodded and Aeris took her place beside me. Bradach took his place beside him. Both held those bowls of strange, white liquid.

“You may begin painting your promises on your mate,” Aeris said.

“How?” I asked. “I don’t know runic mag—”

Alisdair laced his fingers through mine. “Once upon a time, a century ago...” Dipping our hands in the cauldron, he laid my palm over his heart—stopping my breath.

Runic ink dripped down my skin onto his and spread, and kept spreading, skating down his chest in odd, twisting lines that grew and spawned more.

“How is it doing this?” I whispered. The runes were forming before my eyes, borne from words I didn’t need to speak to be true. Although my knowledge of runes was limited, I read one clear as day: betray .

I jumped when a light touch brushed my shoulder.

“There was a brash, young faeman from Sarabai,” Alisdair began, tracing his promise with surprising gentleness. “He staggered off the battlefield and found himself lost in the wilds of Lumenfell, cornered by the Taken.

“Desperately, he screamed for help, summoning his enemy to save him from a worse fate, and as his luck would have it, his cry was answered.” Alisdair traced a path along my shoulder blade, popping goose bumps in his trail. “A young woman—a faeriken—came to his rescue. She saved him from the Taken, then saved him again by hiding him from me.”

My lips parted to ask why he was telling me this, but the words didn’t come out. There was a seriousness belying his tone. One I was hearing for the first time. I wanted to know where it would take him.

“She stashed him away in an abandoned shack far from the village. She nursed him, fed him... and fell in love with him.” His fingers skated around my hip. The rune for possession drew just above my middle. I knew that one. Kirwan drew the same one night above Mama’s door. “When he was healed, she came to me. Begging me to let them go and build a life far from the war, the fighting, the prejudices. Far from the faelands of Elva.

“I said no.”

Alisdair pulled me close, erasing the scant distance between our bodies. I held my breath as he touched his cheek to my chest, peering over my shoulder to draw a rune on my spine.

“A fae and a faeriken? There was no life for them outside of Lumenfell. All that awaited them was pain and struggle. The gratitude of the faeman that turned into love, would morph again, becoming resentment and hate.” His grip tightened on my thigh. “She did not believe me. Convinced their love was true, she ran off with him in the night.

“It’s possible she did get to live her blissful, fairy-tale life for a short time. I’ll never know for certain,” he said, “because Gorban Salman murdered her a year after they fled.”

I froze. “What? Did you just say Salman?”

“That’s right.” His voice was a low, dangerous hiss. “That man was your father. He loved Raelina. He was desperate to be with her. That was until your grandparents announced they refused to give the throne to their daughter, and would instead bestow it on the man who wed her. They decided it should be the hero who survived the cursed lands, and faced me and lived to tell about it.

“They didn’t know he was already married. More so, that he was married in a ceremony like this one—bound by runic magic and blessed by the goddess Meya.”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. If I could’ve done either, I would’ve run screaming. Something was happening, and it was not good.

“Divorce cannot end a marriage such as that”—he smiled—“or a marriage such as this. He was ineligible to marry the princess, become king of one of the wealthiest nations in Elva, or hold more power in his pinky than the strongest fae in the land. All because of Raelina.”

“No,” I whispered. “Please.”

“So he made a terrible, brutal choice to slaughter the wife no one knew about. No one but me.”

“Who... Who was she to you?”

His eyes flashed. “She was everything. Our last hope. My last chance. And he took her and threw her away like she was nothing.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “That’s why you wanted to humiliate him by leaving me at the altar.”

“No, little bird,” he said, surprising me. “My subject was quite wrong on that score. I never intended to leave you at the altar.” His glare pinned me through. “I was going to slaughter you on the altar.”

Noise, breath, people, everything. It all stopped.

“I was going to slaughter his precious heir—famed beauty of the east—right in front of him while he stood helpless to stop it. But then...” Alisdair moved up to my shoulder, covering me with ink as promises I couldn’t name spelled out on him. “You trumpeted my vow before the whole of the Lyrican court—swearing our marriage would end in death.”

“Why?”

Did I speak? My ears were roaring. My lips were numb. I couldn’t be sure they moved.

“Why did you change my mind?” He wasn’t drawing anymore. His fingers were gliding over my body, but leaving no ink behind them. He was simply exploring me—

His new possession.

“Because I saw in that moment that you hate him as much as I.” Laughter rolled out of his chest. “Not only do you hate him, but you openly and blatantly defy him—destroying his bid for Lyrica’s peace and your subjugation—it was you who tried to kill me in front of him. It was then you and I came up with a much better plan.

“Killing you would solve nothing. If the hatred between you and your father is mutual, he would care for you passing only long enough to shed fake tears at your funeral,” he dropped. “No, if I was to truly hurt him, how much better would it be... to keep you?”

His words reached me from far away.

“To corrupt you. To make you mine in every way—including becoming the natural successor of the Lyrican throne.”

“What?” I whispered. “But—but you can’t—”

“No, you can’t,” he barked. “A woman cannot take the throne, so in the case of your parents, it passed to an outsider. Your father threw you away so easily because despite only having one child with your mother, he has half a dozen bastards out there, waiting for the day one is tapped to rule.”

I choked, eyes bulging. The surprise wasn’t mine. Seemed Emiana didn’t know about these half-siblings.

“Or I should say, he used to have half a dozen bastards out there.” A slow smile stretched his lips. “Do forgive me for having to put you to sleep so many times during our return home. I couldn’t have you interfering in their ends.”

“Their ends?” I cried. “Are you saying you killed them?”

“A mere precaution. We don’t want anyone with a legitimate claim to threaten my ascension to the throne.”

“Stop saying we!” Or at least, I tried to scream it. Panic had such a stranglehold on my throat, nothing but a hoarse rasp could get out.

“Naturally, when I signed the treaty, I relinquished any claim to Lyrica and swore it on Meya’s name, but then, you, my dear one, broke that treaty.” He caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers. “Your rights remain intact, and through this ceremony—binding us as one—your rights are my rights. The throne denied you, will be mine.”

My body came alive. I shoved his hand off. “You bastard.”

He growled, lips peeling back. “You believe you hate me, little bird? I assure you the feeling is decidedly mutual. You are nothing. Less than nothing. Just another sniveling, insipid, pampered child who thinks if you scream and shout loud enough, you’ll get your way, but a marriage doesn’t require love, and a partnership doesn’t beg respect.

“Thanks to you, I will take away everything your father truly loves. His wealth, his land, his honors, his throne. You will watch the man who threw you away reduced to nothing. All that he greedily gobbled on Raelina’s sacrifice will vanish into vapor, and right as I plunge my sword into his chest, he’ll know the reason why.”

He stepped back, beholding me with something akin to pride. “I told you, my queen. I answered this question already. I made you mine because you and I will stand atop the world, claiming the faelands for our own, and crushing the beast who spawned you under foot.”

I gaped at him, body shaking. “What is wrong with you? Why do you keep saying we? You can’t possibly believe I’ll allow any of this to happen.”

“Oh?” Alisdair said, cocking a brow. “You think you’re going to stop me?”

“Of course!”

“Then, you’ve decided to stay.”

“I—” I cut off, jaw clenching. Oh no.

I agreed to this with the promise of fleeing from him. A promise I burned on his skin. I either stayed and fought to save all of Lyrica, or I ran to save my family.

“You wanted this,” I hissed. “You tricked me!”

His expression was flat. Bored even. “I did not. There can be no tricks in the cauldron. I offered you what you truly want—to leave—and named what I truly want—for you to stay. From this point on, we will fight for our wish. But I say to you, my queen”—flicking off me, he nodded at Aeris—“I intend to win.”

“Wait! No!”

Aeris and Bradach tipped the basins over our heads, shocking my system with a blast of freezing cold. Even colder than the elements.

The white magic rushed down my body like water, washing away ink like it was never there, and leaving only the runes behind. I gasped as the cauldron of ink went ghostly white.

“In honor of the gift your sword through the chest has given me,” Alisdair said, wrenching my head up. “I shall give you a gift. A head start.”

I stared at him, eyes unfocused and shivering in a vat of my greatest mistake. What...? What was... going on?

“Nine minutes fifty-one. Nine minutes fifty—”

“Run,” Aeris hissed. “The magic takes hold at daybreak. My queen, you have to run!”

I hefted over the rim and hit the ground before she finished her sentence. Snatching up a cloak, I blew past Bradach and darted into the trees.

There was nowhere else for me to run. Castle Riagin was home to Shadowsoul and a maze to me. He knew all its twists, turns, and secrets—what hope did I have of losing him in there? My only chance was the woods. All I had to do was elude him until daybreak. I could do that.

I will do it!

Stupidly, and unwittingly, I promised before Meya and under the threat of magic to act as his true wife and queen for all the days I remained at his side. Now I knew exactly what he wanted his wife and queen to do.

I raced through brush and reaching branches, collecting bruises—opening cuts on my cheeks.

I ran faster.

I cared not what happened to King Salman. Just like he cared not what happened to me or those of us living in the Galley. Pleas to him for more food, help, wages, and protection were met with more taxes—tightening the noose of poverty further. What did I care if Alisdair avenged a wrong it sounded like should be avenged?

Salman was a particular kind of loathsome monster to murder his wife and the woman who gave up everything to protect, care, and be with him—all so he could be king of Lyrica. Let the two rivals battle it out and kill each other in the process, but what Shadowsoul wouldn’t do is take us all down with him—plunging all of Elva into this frozen, rocky hell.

The terrible irony was that if the true Emiana had known what Shadowsoul wanted to do to her father, she’d never have run from him.

Run.

Frozen stumps that used to be my feet pounded the snow, leaving a trail that was quickly swept away by swirling winds. No moon. No stars. No light.

Darkness wrapped around the trees, blanketed the snow, and smothered my vision. I could barely see two feet in front of me, and the further I left the glittering town behind, the closer the shadows moved in. If I’d been thinking, I’d have snatched a torch, clothes, shoes—anything to get me through the night!

No , sense said. Torchlight would be easily tracked in his darkness. Fetching clothes and shoes would’ve wasted my scant head start.

I had minutes to get away from a rich, overindulged king who stopped relying on his body and physical strength long ago, and now did everything by magic.

He’d never be able to catch up with me, especially—

I slid to a stop, sucking in deep, freezing lungfuls.

—if I’m clever.

He’s expecting me to run around blindly, crashing and stomping around the forest—kicking up noise and fuss.

I didn’t need to be fast. I needed to be slow and quiet. I needed to be another looming shadow in the darkness, bypassed without a second glance.

Pulling my useless covering tight, I stepped lightly over a black mass that looked like a tree root. All these mountains, cliffs, and crags, there had to be a cave somewhere nearby. That’s where I’d tuck myself away to hide for the night, and in the morning, when I returned triumphantly to that monster after the runes faded away, I’d demand he personally drive the carriage taking me home, then kissed my feet after they stepped on my homeland, begging for my forgiveness.

He thought me a spoiled, pampered princess. He thought me a pawn in his thirst for revenge. I was neither.

I was his match.

A twig snapped in the distance, whipping my head around. I squinted through the gloom, but saw no one. Nothing but shifting black under layers of white.

Crunch.

I twisted, and locked eyes with two, red glowing orbs.

“Ahh!” I took off running.

Crashing through brush, colliding with trees, kicking up a flurry of snow, screaming my lungs out. I cared not for Alisdair, or if he caught me. All that mattered was getting far away from that creature.

Light emanated ahead, drawing me back toward the village. I huffed and wheezed, making for noise, people, and protection with every last bit of strength in my numb legs. There’d be places to hide in the village. Crowds to lose myself in. Possibly people to take pity on me and give me clothes and shelter until dawn. And, most importantly, there’d be no Taken.

I shoved through two trees and staggered to a stop. I wasn’t in town. On the contrary, I didn’t seem to be anywhere near it, but where I was... was beautiful.

My lips parted, awe stealing my breath—drawing me closer.

Water streamed down the riverbed, making them dance.

“Stars.”

I dropped down at the edge of the bank. Small, glowing, impossible flowers brushed against my knees—their long, delicate petals so featherlight, I barely felt them. They almost resembled sun flowers, though their petals were as long as their stems.

“Starflowers,” I whispered, touching one ever so lightly. Pulling away, I gasped, wondering at my glowing fingertips.

Their gentle light emanated from seeds to stem, and carried down into the roots—making the bank shine. Was this the work of magic, or were these beautiful things made this way by the goddess herself?

Sitting back on my heels, I swept the calm, still clearing.

The trees curved around the river and reached for each other overhead, their branches stretching, reaching, tangling into a natural roof that blocked the falling snow. It was a quiet, pocket world outside of time—outside of war, harm, and the dangers of the night. I don’t know how, but I knew the Taken wouldn’t come here. Such a place was too beautiful for the likes of a beast.

I lit on something to my right, rising at the edge of the clearing.

A bridge.

Carefully, I ripped the hem of my cloak and used the cloth to gather up a handful of starflowers. “Goodbye,” I whispered.

Holding out my natural lantern, I crossed the bridge and stepped onto a path.

I was torn. Wouldn’t Alisdair search for me along the routes that he knew—like this very path? Or did I heed sense, and stay on a path that clearly led somewhere, instead of wandering through the dark and night until I tipped over the cliff into that nest of Taken?

My mind was made for me. Lifting my feet, I stayed on the path.

Where is he? Have I truly lost him? The most feared man in Elva— No, in all of Elvan history, and he couldn’t track down one sniveling, insipid, pampered princess who was lost in the woods.

I couldn’t help but smirk.

A shadow jumped out of the trees. “Ahh!” I flung back, landing hard on my tailbone, and harder still when it landed on my chest—shoving me down. We blinked at each other.

Curious, the rabbit sniffed me—its twitching, little nose tickling my cheek. Was it not used to people, or was it not used to normal fae? It certainly inspected me like I was a new and interesting discovery, and wanted to know if I was edible.

“Hello to you too,” I said softly. Gently, I stroked his soft, fuzzy head—almost smiling when I heard his sweet, grinding purr. “Would you like to come with me? I’m in search of a place to hide from a monster.”

Wings sprouted from his back, trapping another surprised cry behind my teeth. He took off, shooting into the air.

I held up my starflowers to follow him and came eye to eye to eye with a herd of white and gray rabbits, all gazing down at me from the trees. My new friend was clearly the brave one—putting himself forward to check if I was a threat.

He dropped down on a branch, chittered to his friends, then took to the skies—leading his colony away.

I gasped at the sight—eyes wider than they’d ever been. “What is this place?”

A soft, scratching sound tickled my ear, wiping my smile away. Was it the Taken? Another impossible creature? Or him?

I paused—scanning the limits of my starflower-light. I grew up in the city. A city surrounded by forest, yes, but a forest Mama forbade me to step foot in alone.

The forests of Elva were tricky, living, magical, mischievous. They liked to obscure paths, confuse travelers, and mimic the voices of desperate, calling loved ones. Many a young fae entered the forest and never returned.

But not this place.

I could feel it. Sense it within the well of magic inside my soul that was forever out of my reach. There was no magic or mischief in this forest. It was dead.

Which meant that noise was not a trick to scare me. Something or someone made it, and I needed to move.

I hurried on—bursting into a near run. The flowers lit my way, illuminating tufts of fur and flashes of feathers as critters fled from the strange, charging giant clomping through the woods. Something appeared ahead of me and I pulled up short, skidding to the edge of the cliff.

Heart in my throat, I peered down. No, not a cliff.

It was another sharply inclined path like that one that carried our carriage down into Lumenfell, but this one led to—

I frowned. “What is that?”

I held the flowers higher, squinting to see. About eighty feet below, something—many somethings?—shifted in the dark. A soft, humming noise lifted up on the backs of the howling wind, and furrowed my brow. It almost sounded like... snoring.

Shuffling sounded behind me, turning me in time to see another tuft of fur flit into the dark.

I smiled. “Come now, little one. There’s no need to be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

Screeching, I clapped my hand over my mouth—dropping the flowers. They fell at the feet—two proper, non-rabbit feet—of the man who stepped out of the shadows.

“Although, calling me little one is quite insulting. I was far from the runt of my litter.”

I choked, eyes flinging up and off his bare and bold nudity. There wasn’t a stitch of cloth on his bronze skin, and the flowers were only too eager to prove it. I landed on his face, and started.

“Foalan?”

As soon as the name left my lips, I knew I was wrong. This man had undoubtedly stolen Foalan’s cherry-kissed lips, sculpted jaw, and glass-cutter’s cheekbones, but he left the commander his beard.

This faeriken didn’t have facial hair. His fur was also snow white—much like the rabbit I had mistaken him for.

“Not Foalan.” I stepped back and his eyes tracked me, moving in time like a dance partner. “Who are you? Why are you naked?”

“Who are you?” he mocked, cocking his head. “Why are you naked?”

I flushed, clapping my hands over my body. “Fair enough. I am—” I fought the futile struggle to say my name. “My name is Ana. You must be Foalan’s brother.”

“I don’t know that I must be his anything.” He sniffed the air, coming closer. I couldn’t say why the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “I am Meallan. Why are you in my woods, Ana?”

“I’m running from someone.”

Inexplicably, he smiled. “We’re all running from someone. Be more specific.”

“This someone is the king of Wind and Wild.”

If anything, his grin widened. “Ahh. You must be his fresh, young mate.”

I bristled. “I don’t know that I must be his anything.”

Meallan laughed—loud and free. “Well said.”

Nodding, I inched to the side, skirting the cliff. “Okay, well. I should—”

“If you’re running from him, you are not his mate yet.” Still his eyes didn’t leave me—tracking me through the snow, taking in my drying runes. “Would you like my help?”

“Your help?” Why is he staring like that?

I moved to the left, then the right, then I darted side to side quickly, spun around, and jumped. Meallan’s orbs bounced in their skull following me around, though he said nothing.

“What? You’re not going to ask why I burst into dance?”

“It’s not polite to remark on one’s madness.”

My face heated. “Well, then why would you want to help a madwoman?”

“Just because you’re mad doesn’t mean you aren’t wise. Running from Alisdair Lumenfell is exactly what you should do.” Meallan held out his hand. “Come with me. My people and our home are below you. Lumenfell cannot cross into our territory. You will be safe from him.”

“Your home?” I glanced down into the darkness, the shifting masses, the rumbling snores. “Why is it so dark down there?”

“Come,” he repeated, his hand hanging in the air between us. “We will shelter you.”

“No, thank you,” I said, backing further away. “This is between me and Alisdair. I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt because they stood between us.”

His hand returned to his side. I only relaxed a fraction.

“Nothing is standing between you and him. He knows exactly where you are. He will find you in moments,” Meallan dropped. “It’s a wonder he isn’t upon you now.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“Your scent.” He breathed deep. “I smelled you the second you entered my woods and have been following you ever since.”

I tensed. My senses were right. There were unseen eyes in the dark.

“If you will not accept my protection, then take my advice.” He picked up the flowers and gave them to me. “Use these. Rub them on yourself. The smell of the flowers will obscure your scent.”

“But if I do, I’ll glow.”

“A glow is easily hidden by a large tree. A scent is not.”

That logic could not be argued. Quickly, I crushed the starflowers and rubbed them over my face, arms, stomach—everywhere.

“Thank you, Meallan.”

“You are most welcome, Princess Ana. Hopefully when the opportunity arises, you will return the favor and lend me your aid.”

“I can’t,” I said bluntly. “I’m not staying. That’s what all of this is for. If I avoid him until daybreak, I’m free. I’ll return home.”

He shrugged. “The path of freedom leads one down many roads. By Meya’s fate, ours will converge once again.”

“Well, if it does, then sure. I’ll return the favor.”

“Thank you.” Meallan moved back, returning to the shadows. “Goodbye, Lady Ana, Queen of Nothing, owned by no one.”

I blinked and he was gone, leaving me unsettled. I wasn’t sure if his parting comment was an insult or a compliment. I had a feeling it was a little of both.

“Strange place,” I muttered, heading far away from the cliff and the dark pit Meallan called home . “Strange people.”

I had no flowers to light my way, and didn’t need them. My body was one big starflower, casting back the darkness as I stepped lightly on the path, heading deeper into the woods.

It wasn’t long before I found myself in another clearing, this one more beautiful than the last.

Starflowers gathered around a pond, dancing a merry shake as rabbits chased each other along the bank and through the glowing reeds. The long stems reached high, tickling the backs of two fawns gently lapping at the water. Large, graceful wings sprouted from their backs.

The deer raised their heads when I approached, took me in, then returned to their drink.

A heavy weight landed on my shoulder, almost startling a cry out of me. My brows blew up when a small, furry head stuck its face in mine, inspecting me closely.

The little monkey must’ve been satisfied because he chittered at the trees, and the trees chittered back—proving he had a couple friends up there waiting for the verdict.

Unlike the impossible rabbits and deer, I saw no wings on the monkey, but he was still different. His coat was much thicker, heavier, and warmer than the monkeys of the Beharra Forest. This little critter was built for the cold.

“What is this place?” I breathed, stroking his soft fur. “How can this forest be dead, bleak, and desolate, while also being beautiful, enigmatic, and wondrous? How did you all get here?” A rabbit flew up to the trees. “How did you become... this?”

The monkey screeched and leapt off my shoulder. I assumed that was his answer.

Laughing, I took a seat in the amazing place, deciding then to make it my hiding place. I was surrounded my more starflowers. They’d further obscure my scent. “My”—the word wouldn’t leave my lips—“won’t believe when I tell them of this. No one will.

“So much beauty in a nightmare.”

“Poetic.”

I bolted upright, moving only half as fast as the animals. They bolted out of the clearing so fast, they kicked up a wave of snow that showered my back.

Alisdair slithered out of the dark—the trickster’s smirk baring his fangs. “Oh, my dear, you’re glowing. I’m flattered.”

I moved as he moved, maintaining our distance—edging around the pond.

“How did you find me?” I croaked. Did Meallan lie? Did I cover myself with a beacon instead of a barrier?

“Of course, I found you. You are just like these flowers...” He bent slowly, eyes fixed on me as he plucked one off its stem. “Meek, pointless, decorative, and so terrified of the dark, you cling to the light.” He flung the pretty thing over his shoulder.

“Come to me,” he growled like a wild animal. “This will be neither quick nor gentle nor loving, and still you will enjoy nothing more.”

I choked, knees knocking together. What a way to describe our first joining as faeman and wife. “You haven’t caught me yet,” I replied when I found my voice. “And you won’t. I will never—”

I dropped down, grabbed a fistful of snow and mud and flung it in his face. I was off before his roar hit my ears.

No sneaking, no hiding, no flowers, no time. I ran as fast as my borrowed legs could carry me, crashing through brush and scattering every critter in my path. He couldn’t catch me.

No matter what it took, I would outlast him until the dawn, and get back to my family.

Heavy footfalls thundered behind me, trumpeting his pursuit. Snarling, I ran faster.

Shadowsoul looked at me and saw a pointless, decorative princess. That night would be the night he learned to never underestimate a woman inside for the pretty wrapping outside.

I was no princess. I was the girl who ran from bullies nearly every day of her life. There was a reason they all slunk home at the end of the day, cursing their failure. A slipperier girl than I did not exist.

A low-hanging branch loomed ahead. I grabbed it without hesitating, flipped, and landed on my toes. From branch to branch I climbed, scrabbled, and skittered up the tree as easy as a monkey.

There was a reason the forest animals did not fear me. They knew I was one of them—a child of the forest. The forest was where we fae belonged, if not for our ancients envying the humans and wanting cities, gold, and government for ourselves, we’d still live in the forests and they wouldn’t have turned against us for the slight. But not this poor dead and withered place. It carried no ill will.

“Argh!”

Not like the enraged beast coming after me.

The tree shook with his pursuit, almost shaking me off its side.

Snap!

I smirked at the hard, unforgiving thud echoing off the ground. The fae were natural climbers and children of the forest. The same could not be said for that too-handsome, faeriken monster below.

Right then, I thanked the terrible curse that made these trees grow wild and too close together. It made it all the more easy for me to flit from branch to branch—out of reach of Alisdair.

His roar echoed through the night, and faded in the distance.

I flit from tree to tree until I lost him. Silence reigned as I climbed down, dropping lightly on my feet. I could barely hold in a laugh. The silly man thought he had me. I bet he was proud of himself, finding me in the starflower clearing right where he expected, sneaking up on me with his snark and sneer.

All that to get a fistful of mud in his face, and a sore bottom from falling on his ass.

This will be easy, I thought, leaning against an oak. All too easy.

“Tired already, little bird?”

My head snapped up, locking on the naked and hard figure reclining on the tree branch above me.

“We’re just getting started.”

“How!” I cried. “You were behind me. A mile behind. How are you here!”

He only chuckled. “Shall I take you now, or should we continue our dance a little longer?”

“Please.” The truth raged and battered against my lips, desperate to come out. “You don’t understand. You don’t want me.”

“You...” Alisdair reached down and stroked my cheek. “Are all I want.”

I ducked him and backed away. Alisdair dropped out of the tree and followed—a predator tracking his prey.

“Listen,” I began, forcing a laugh. “We’ve said and done a lot of things to each other in this short time, but I know deep down, you don’t want our first time as man and wife to be—”

“Argh!” He tore the scant robe from my body.

I was wrong.

My back collided with rough, cold bark. Alisdair slammed his hands down on either side of my head, penning me in. Seemed continuing our dance was off the table. He was taking his prize.

Now.

“Not here,” I tried. He plastered against me, heating my chilled body to life. “You have a castle. Chambers. A bedroom. Take me there.”

“I could never dishonor you so, my queen. Mating is raw, dirty, and primal. We lock it away behind closed doors out of shame, but you, should never be hidden.” He tugged sharply on my hair, snapping my chin up and ripping free a cry. Or was it a moan?

“Let the clouds part and the moon finally shine its light in greed to see me bond with my true mate... and fuck her like a common nightwalker.”

“What non-sense are you spouting!” My voice cracked, breath hitching at the seeking, stroking hand climbing my thigh. “You have to listen to me. I’m not—not—not— Agh!”

“Our promises are inked on our skin, little queen. For as long as you run, I will chase. Tell me”—deep, treacherous pools drowned me—“have you stopped running?”

My chest heaved, pushing against him. I knew what he was asking.

I rose on tiptoe, digging my chin into his scruffle—baring my teeth like fangs. I spoke, strong and clear, “Never.”

His lips crashed on mine, swallowing a cry that was undoubtedly a moan. I couldn’t help it. His fingers had ended their exploration, and found their destination between my legs.

This couldn’t be happening. Was I truly to lose my maidenhood in the forest, against a tree, while trapped in another’s body? For all my caution with love, lust, and young men’s promises. For all my mother’s warnings. Nothing could’ve prepared me for this.

And even less could stop it.

Alisdair caught me fairly, and laughably, easy. He was one hard, punishing thrust from completing the ceremony, and making himself the rightful heir to Lyrica and the eventual destruction of Elva as we knew it.

He was also one thrust away from binding himself under my demands. For as long as the runes were in power, he had to repeat this dance every night—giving me a chance to run away, and honoring our deal if I succeeded.

Open, glaring eyes burned each other even as his mouth devoured mine.

It was there underneath his pet names and teasing, lust-filled taunts. He hated me.

He wanted nothing to do with the useless spawn of the man who stole Raelina from him. I was nothing but a reminder, a torture, a pawn. Alisdair Shadowsoul would see Emiana corrupted and all that should’ve been hers, made his. All in the name of revenge against her father.

“Agh,” I cried, eyes rolling as two fingers pushed past my folds, burying deep to the knuckles.

I could stop this now. To break our deal was to have no deal. We could live in this impossible winter wasteland together—living out days knowing we came so close to what we wanted, but close wasn’t close enough.

I could save Lyrica right then. With one word.

But that wasn’t my duty. There were five people depending on me. Waiting for me. I could save Elva, but no one would save them. No one but me. Let the true princess of Lyrica clean up the mess she created.

I was going home.

Laughing, a smirk twisted my lips. “Is that all you got, pretend king? Who knew you were so... gentle?”

A huge, terrible grin split his face. “Oh, yes. You’ll do just fine.”

Alisdair hefted me up, scraping my back against the tree. My cry choked on a groan, caught in my throat as he closed over my nipple. I assumed only faeriken women shared the experience of a man with fangs ravishing your breasts. I envied them for discovering the experience long before me.

His tongue teased and tortured the little nub to a hardened pebble, standing it to attention, then punishing its wantonness. Sharpened canines scraped the delicate flesh—shooting equal parts pain and pleasure straight to my lower belly.

“Oh, Meya,” I rasped. I tightened, legs clamping on him. “Do you... really think— Oh!”

He snapped my legs open, pushed in deeper still, and spread his fingers wide—spreading me like a Meya’s Day turkey.

“—that,” I breathed, straining to keep hold of my senses. “It’s going to be this easy?”

I hauled back and slapped him across the face.

He growled, head snapping around. The distraction gave me a chance to get my feet between us, and kick.

I threw him off me and took off running, bolting for the trees. They helped me lose him once, they’d help me lose him again. I accepted this deal was my only chance for getting home, but I hadn’t accepted defeat. Not by a long shot.

“Argh!”

I threw my body to the side, and he pounced on the spot I’d been standing in—tackling nothing but air and snow. A strange noise came from him.

Was he... laughing?

Loud, hearty guffaws echoed through the forest. By the goddess, he was enjoying this. Every second of his hunting me down like a wild animal and trying to claim by body like a prize to be won. To him, all of this, was nothing but fun.

He can have his fun eating my snow!

Leaping off the balls of my toes, I jumped, seized a branch just within reach of my fingertips, heaved myself up and—

Snap!

“Ahh!”

I collapsed on the ground, pinned under the branch. A shadow fell over me.

“Seems it is this easy.” Alisdair moved around me, the stalking panther. “Are your wings caught, my pet?”

I shoved against the wood. The answer was unreservedly, humiliatingly, yes. “Get this off of me.”

“Now why”—he flicked my knees apart—“would I do that?”

My pulse raced as his fingers found themselves between my legs again. As they found my clit. “B-because,” I gasped. “You don’t want the fun to... end too so-on— Ah!”

He rubbed the bundle of nerves between my legs like he was rubbing out the spot of damnation. Hard, fast, rough—spots danced before my eyes that made me think I was seeing stars.

I wriggled, kicked, and flailed under the branch—body hot and cold. Shivering and shuddering. How could someone I hated so much make me feel this good?

“Let me... run for you,” I cried, desperation filling my voice. One thrust and the marriage was consummated. The bond was sealed. One thrust, and I woke up the next morning a failure, and prepared for another night... as his prey. “You said I was your entertainment. You said this is our dance. Let it go on for a little long—"

Alisdair dropped between my thighs, and devoured my pussy. My back snapped up—mouth open in a silent, jaw-cracking moan.

He growled, snarled, and snapped—a feral beast going down on a ripe peach. In all my life, with all the books, and all the poems, I’d never find the words to describe this. Of course no book or poem could help me—no other woman had ever been fucked in this manner.

Alisdair’s tongue plunged into my entrance and kept going, going, growing.

I didn’t know what type of magic this was. I didn’t know if it was magic, or simply how the curse changed him. But an infaeman tongue, probed and streeetched me—pushing this borrowed pussy past limits it’d never gone before.

He bobbed and shook his head side to side—both drilling me and tormenting the bundle of nerves at my apex. Crashing, surging waves of pleasure flooded my body over and over again. I couldn’t catch my breath from the first wave before the next was bowling me over, dragging me back down into ecstasy my life of sensible maidenhood had never known.

“Oh, fuck,” I screamed when his tongue struck a head-scrambling, fire-igniting spot within me. Where had that been all my life?! Did other women know about this? Why didn’t they tell me! “Meya, save me!”

From what? I had no idea. Save me from his tongue, or how incredible it was making me feel? Either way, if he struck that spot again, I could not be held responsible for my actions. My melting mind wouldn’t even remember them.

Get a hold of yourself, woman! You have to keep running! Why end tomorrow what we can end tonight?

Alisdair’s hand slid under the branch and palmed my breast, taking my poor nipple between two claw-tipped fingers. I had a passing thought that his claws looked longer, then a finger disappeared inside my ass.

My eyes blew wide—wider than the gaping “O” that became my mouth.

Why hadn’t I listened to Shadi and my friends when they tried to tell me what was coming? The only thing I recalled was the warning not to get too loud, or he’d go faster, deeper, and longer.

“Uh, uh, uh! Oh, fuck, AH!” That ship had sailed, taken on water, and wrecked on the seafloor. I couldn’t shut myself up, and Alisdair was all too happy to take on the encouragement.

His finger stretched my puckered hole. His tongue plundered my pussy. His thumb rolled my nipple, and his fangs tortured my clit. Branch or no branch, I never stood a chance.

Tension rose to a fever pitch, boiling over with hot, sweaty, limb-trembling pleasure, and I exploded.

Screaming myself hoarse, I came so hard, I bore down on the branch and snapped it in half.

“Holy Meya fucking shit, Meya fuck,” I groaned, chest heaving—fire spots dancing above my eyes. “What... did you... do to me?”

“That?” Derision laced his voice. “That was nothing. I was holding back.”

Yes. Everything every war wife, Lyrican, and fae said was true. Having sex with faeriken would kill me.

Alisdair licked my juices off his lips. “The time for dancing is over, little queen. I confess, you and your trickster’s lips have had a stronger effect on me than I was anticipating.”

My eyes bugged glancing down. By the All Mother, his cock was already a force to be reckoned with, but seeing it then, painfully hard and engorged to five times its size, I knew why he was balancing on the edge of an apology. That thing would destroy me.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he dropped, “you’ll die.”

I gaped at him, bulging eyes huge. There wasn’t a trace of irony or teasing in this tone. He spoke as though this was simple fact.

“You’re going to slip beyond the veil and gaze upon the face of Meya herself. The dawn will rise on the shell of the innocent, pampered princess you used to be, and then I’ll fuck the wanton whore you’ve become all over again.”

“Oh, gods,” I rasped, lower belly contracting so painfully, I came again.

Alisdair cracked my legs open like an egg, positioning himself at my entrance.

I grabbed half the branch and smashed it over his head.

He snapped around, hands flying off me, and I took off running.

“ Huh, huh, huh. ” At least, in my mind, I took off running. In reality, I staggered and stumbled through the snow—panting like an animal and trying to will urgency into my relaxed limbs, and loosening into my tauter-than-a-bowstring core.

Shadowsoul was on me in a heartbeat, throwing me up against a tree. Rough, unforgiving bark fought back—digging into my cheek and stomach. Alisdair’s laugh was warm, tickling breath on my ear. He thrust inside me with one smooth move.

We both groaned so deep and guttural, it shook the tree.

I couldn’t believe I marveled at his impossible tongue. It was nothing—nothing compared to the monster between my legs.

“Oh,” I cried out. “Ah!”

“Say it,” he hissed. He licked a stripe up my cheek and grumbled. I tasted good. “I will have no more of your blustering. Your holding back. The lies on your lips and the truth in your pussy. Scream my name.” A hard snap of his hips drove him deeper, rolling my eyes up in my head. “The name you curse. The name that haunts your nightmares. The name that burns your tongue. Scream it, little bird.

“Sing.”

My eye rolled in its socket, meeting his straight on. “Fuck. You.”

He smirked—wide and terrible. “Close enough.” He pulled all the way out and thrust in, impaling that spot with one strike.

I died.

No dramatics. No exaggerations. No bluster. No lies.

Alisdair started pumping— pounding— my pussy, and the person I was, was no more. It was simple fact, as he said. One simply could not know such filthy, dirty, shameful, amazing pleasure, and emerge the same person.

“Oh, gods, yes,” I shrieked. “Ahh, fuck!”

Alisdair was no less quiet than me. His beastlike snarls and growls increased with his pace, filling me with a feeling that should’ve been fear. Oh, how I wished to Meya it was. But no. The only thing I felt at hearing him come apart at the seams, losing all sense of himself and his hold on his faemanity for want of me... was turned on .

I tightened my walls, clamping down on his cock.

“Agh,” he bellowed, falling on top of me. “Fuck’s sake!”

I smirked. “You scream my name, oh Lord Shadowsoul, King of Beasts. Enough of your lies and bluster. I am a pointless, decorative creature, and you still can’t resist me.”

His eyes flashed. “Oh, dear. I’m going to reach a new level of savagery with you.”

“Are you?” I yawned, and had to snap my jaw shut when a ragged moan tried slipping out too. “When does that start?”

I knew instantly I made a mistake.

The forest spun. Blinking, my mind couldn’t connect how I came face-to-face with him, and the vicious cut I opened on his forehead. My back pressed to the tree within the space of a breath. A small eep escaped me, undercutting my bluster, when he dropped my ankles on his shoulder.

“Starts now.”

Alisdair lost control.

There was no other way to describe it. No word more flowery. No adjective more accurate. The man buried deep inside me, and all sense of civility and control snapped.

My cries were straight screams, echoing into the whistling, frigid forest. Alisdair pumped so hard and fast, he was barely out before he was thrusting back in, hitting heretofore undiscovered angles, and exploding heat and fierce, fiery arousal deep within a core long ignored.

I kicked and slapped at him. Somewhere in the part of my mind still functioning, it was screaming I still had a chance to break free, and stop this before the ancient rites took hold.

My hand came up to dig into his cut, but he threw his head back at that moment—ragged groans ripping from his throat, and baring his fangs to the sky. Fangs that were... bigger?

Alisdair snapped his head forward, and my head back—tangling in my hair and wrenching a cry out of me. It was all the things he’d said it’d be. Not quick, gentle, or loving but—

“Ahh,” I moaned. “Ohh, so deep. You bastard, I—”

“Hmm. You’re moon-kissed...”

Heavy-lidded eyes snapped open, and landed on the strands of snow-white hair woven through his fist. I looked up.

The ever-present clouds parted the barest bit, letting through the scant glow of moonlight that fell over me, revealing my great shame.

I tripped over my tongue. “I—I can—"

“You continue to surprise, little bird.” With that, he latched on to my neck, sucking and teasing my skin.

That was it? People who found out I was moon-kissed usually had much harsher, insulting things to say. Why wasn’t—?

“Ow!” I cried out more from surprise than pain. The madman drew back, admiring the small nip he left on my neck. Palming my breast, he gave the sensitive, heated mound another to match.

“Hey, what are you—?”

Alisdair broke the limits of possibility and pumped faster still, hammering that spot like it needed to be punished. My ability for speech flew up into the trees with the rabbits, abandoning me for good.

I was filthy, raw, and wet. Gravity pulled me down, making me meet him thrust for thrust—bouncing as he bucked. Alisdair nipped me all over my neck and chest, and my swats were landing softer. The sharp pinpricks of pain anchored the pleasure, making it sweeter still.

Too sweet.

My muscles coiled like a viper, bending my back off the wood. Alisdair sank deep and his chest tightened against my thighs. Explosions burst in my mind, throwing me to the edge—tumbling, falling, screaming— gone.

He spilled inside me, filling me to the brim with seed as my pussy gushed its own warm arousal.

Alisdair dropped to his knees—the great and shadowed evil of the faelands brought low because of me. I might’ve crowed about it if I could catch my breath, or take my eyes off my shoulder.

“The rune...”

It was glowing.

I slid down the bark—transfixed. All over our bodies, our runes—our binding promises—lit like the glow from the moon.

And was that it.

I was Shadowsoul’s wife. His mate. His queen. His stepping stool to the throne, then all of Lyrica. I was his to own, command, taunt, torture, and fuck.

I was his... until I learned to run faster.

Alisdair grasped my chin, lifting my gaze to him as the glow faded. “You must forgive me, my queen, for I lied to you once again.

“It actually starts now.”

I didn’t know what he meant, until I did.

“Wait—”

That was the last intelligible thing I said for the rest of the night.