Chapter Eight
T he next morning, Aeris led me out to the courtyard. Court wasn’t being held that day while they did repairs.
Alisdair stood in the middle of the courtyard, basking under the shadow of a statue. I only saw its silhouette the night before. Morning didn’t bring the sun, but it did bring the lighting of a dozen orblights scattered along the twisting paths—all casting their glow upon a beautiful stone woman with long hair, bare feet, and an expression of everlasting mourning.
I fell in beside him. “The true reward was a night free of you.”
Alisdair flicked down to me, amusement tugging the corner of his mouth. “How many hours last night did you spend crafting that rejoinder?”
I warmed under my collar. “Shut up.”
Naturally, he laughed at me. Alisdair was particularly handsome that morning, and that was saying something. It wasn’t that his horns were diminished, because they weren’t. Or that his claws retracted, because they hadn’t. He was very much the beast bursting out of a summer fae’s skin. No, he looked handsomer that morning, because he looked free.
Gone was the heavy black cloak. In its place were simple breeches, boots, and a tunic opened at the chest in defiance of the cold. His hair hung loose and free—a rushing raven waterfall drawing my gaze to him again and again. Every time I saw him, his face was a mask of boredom, rage, or irritation. But not this time. Alisdair looked like he had decided the day was going to be a great one, and it had barely started.
“What has you in a good mood?” I snapped.
“Likely whatever has you in a bad one.”
I flashed him an obscene gesture, which only made him chuckle.
“The disappearing island that we spoke about. We found it,” Alisdair said, again surprising me with a straightforward answer. “Our men were able to retrieve something that’s going to make all the difference in the coming war. It’s on its way now. Our victory is absolute.”
I clenched my jaw hard. He was right. This news had the opposite effect on my mood. “Stop saying we and our . What you do, you do for yourself and your revenge. No one wants war. No one ever wants war.”
“What we want are things only war will achieve. It is the same thing, little bird. If Elvans truly desired a simple, peaceful life, they’d return to the trees.”
I scoffed. “Just because you say it in a slow, calm voice doesn’t make it wisdom.”
His laugh was light and free. Oh, yes, he was very pleased with the destruction he was about to cause. “Do you not want the laws in Lyrica to change, and for women to be allowed to keep their magic?”
“Of course I want that.”
Alisdair looked me in the eye. “Then, how do you intend to wrest power away from the cruel, uncaring hands of your fathers, sons, husbands, and brothers, if not through war?”
I met his gaze unflinchingly. “The same way I’ll wrest it from you, but don’t worry, husband. That’s the gift of mothers, daughters, wives, and sisters. We don’t need war to bring a man to his knees.”
“Is that so?”
The grins reflected in each other’s eyes were absolutely feral.
I blinked and Alisdair was behind me. A warm hand snaked around my waist, pulling me close—drawing me into his heat— and every muscle in my body went rigid... because of what was in his other hand.
“Do demonstrate that for me, Princess.” He pressed the tip of my stolen dagger to my heart. “Bring me to my knees. Make me surrender.” Alisdair licked the shell of my ear, then bit down, making me moan. A moan I’d swear on my life was no more than a gasp. “Keep in mind that my strike will hit true if you succeed. Or if you fail,” he mused. “I haven’t decided which I desire more.”
I grasped his wrist and pushed it away. He let me. “The true fun is in not knowing when it’s coming, husband dear. Although, I can promise you that the day is coming soon when I make you the fool. You’ll be the one watching everything and everyone you love ripped away, and all your plans for the future crumble to dust. On that day, you’ll wish you hadn’t underestimated the power of a quick and clever little bird.”
“You misunderstand me greatly, my queen.” Alisdair’s nose traced a design on my cheek, sending my head spinning. I couldn’t breathe without drowning in his spicy, sweet scent. I couldn’t move captured in his hold. “It is not you I underestimate.”
Alisdair waved his hand and a tiny, cheeping golden bird appeared on his palm. Sunlight glinted through feathers so lovely I could weep.
“But the question is this: how grand and mighty can any creature be—” Golden rods burst out of his palm and clamped around the bird—weaving, locking, and interlocking as it screeched. “—when its weakness is a small cage.”
I tore away from him, a million heated replies launching to my lips, but nothing coming out.
“ Your obedience is taken, but your fire is surrendered. ”
Mama’s words echoed in my head, along with my usual replies. They were eerily similar to Alisdair’s. What did fire matter if someone can put you in a cage?
I forced myself to turn back to the statue. Anything other than falling deeper into his glittering, dark orbs. “So what imaginary thing have the soldiers in your dreams retrieved from the island of make-believe?”
Chuckle. “I will tell you when I’m in a mood as poor as yours, so that you cannot bring me lower.”
He received another foul gesture for that. “Is this her?” I asked, studying the woman’s stone face. “Raelina?”
“No.”
I waited for more, but none came. Alisdair’s candor had limits. I didn’t push.
“When do our lessons start?” I asked.
“Why?”
“I need to go out into the village today,” I heard myself say. “See the people. Meet them. Give them a chance to get to know me. I can hardly fulfill my promise to reign as a true queen if I’m hiding in the bowels of the castle, terrified assassins are around every corner. If you give me a couple hours, I—”
“Cease your blathering, woman, and do what you wish. What interest is it of mine?” He strode off.
“Ass,” I hissed, stomping off the other way.
Aeris stood five feet away, talking in low tones to one of my attendants.
“Aeris, send for my carriage!” Pulling up short, I tossed my head—eyes wide. That wasn’t me. That was how Emiana addressed her household staff. It was not how I addressed a single soul.
The barrier between me and her is already crumbling. I have to get out of here while I can still remember who Olene, Meliora, Jaclan, Gisela, and Savia are.
“Excuse me, Aeris,” I said. “What I meant to say was can you have a message sent to Eadaoin, telling her to wait for me in the grand hall? We’re going out into the village this morning.”
“Right away, my lady.”
Half an hour later, Eadaoin and I left through the palace gates for the village. There was a palpable change in the air since my last visit. The clouds were heavier and darker, pressing the orblights to work harder dispelling the doom. A stiff wind whipped through Lumenfell—slamming doors in the distance, smashing flowerpots, and beating against my overcoat. All of that chilled me, but none so much as the new inhabitants. Everywhere I looked, there were wolves.
Just like Meallan, they were naked and creeping—moving quietly at the edge of things as if not wanting to take part, but needing everyone to know they were there.
Eadaoin drew closer to me. “My lady, would you happen to have that dagger you took from me last night?”
“Yes, in my pocket.” A direct question deserved a direct answer.
“No,” she hissed under her breath.
I didn’t know why she was whispering until I remembered her saying a shout from the other side of the castle would bring Foalan running.
“Do not put weapons in your pocket. You waste precious time fumbling for them. On your belt always.”
“I don’t have a belt or weapons holster.”
“Then we change that today.”
I nodded. “Eadaoin, why are they so... different?”
She didn’t ask what I meant. “Wolves aren’t like other animals, my lady. They don’t live in peaceful coexistence with other species. They dominate whatever area they call their territory, and will go out of their way to hunt down and kill coyotes, bears, cougars—any creature that dares to live on their land and eat their food.
“As their instincts took over, the wolf faeriken became more and more dangerous to the rest of us. They began killing and terrorizing us indiscriminately—for no other reason than they’ve decided Lumenfell belongs to them.”
Oh no. What have I done?
“But that’s not what makes them different.” Eadaoin nodded to one of the patrolling guards passing by. “They’re different from us... because they like it,” she rasped. “They like being wolves. They like being—” The curse made her skip over the word she couldn’t say. “They like the strength, the power, and the bloodlust. They’ve fully embraced the change by shedding the clothes that separate us from the animals, because they like Lumenfell, Lady Ana, and they believe it should all be theirs, and we should all be dead.”
I swallowed hard. “No wonder the villagers wanted to kill me.”
She didn’t argue.
“Why didn’t Alisdair tell me this?” I cried. “He spent hours telling me about the outer-lying villages, but couldn’t spare a moment to mention why the wolves had to stay in theirs?”
“I can’t speak why our lord does or doesn’t do anything. But why did you give in to Meallan’s request?”
“There was the little matter of his threatening to kill me if I didn’t.”
“Ahhh.” She nodded, patting my shoulder. “You promised him a favor, didn’t you?”
“Not intentionally. He helped me, and I said I’d help him too if the opportunity arose. It’s just what you say.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said gently, picking up on my defensiveness. “You didn’t know that Lumenfell is different. Here, all we have is what we can trade. We take promises and bargains very seriously. Reneging on them is most often than not a death sentence. Meallan, that bastard, took advantage of your ignorance.” She cursed. “Many nights I’ve stayed up late wondering how such an evil shit came from the same litter as Foalan.”
“What will happen now?” I asked, stepping off the bridge. “Are the villagers in danger?”
“Yes,” she said bluntly. “But the guards will watch over them.”
We dropped the subject as we joined the hustle and bustle of town, although our first stop was to the leatherworks to fit me with my new holsters. All three of them. One for my ankle, thigh, and underbust for the knife nestled between my bosom.
“Wow.” I poked my chest. “So many creative places to hide these things. How many do you have on you?”
Eadaoin winked. “You’ll never know.”
“I love that reply. I’m stealing it.”
She laughed.
Eadaoin and I weaved through the marketplace, picking up glances and stares as we went. There was something special on that day. Little tiger cubs, bear cubs, piglets, hatchlings, and other young faeriken raced around, eating sweet apples, waving spinning fans, and shrieking in unintelligible delight.
A platform surrounded the frozen fountain and glaring stone Shadowsoul, holding a jumpy, jaunty band—playing a tune that bobbed my head and tapped my feet. Despite the heavy air accompanied by the watching wolves, the people were determined to enjoy themselves, and enjoy themselves they were—dancing, eating, laughing, and flirting to their heart’s content.
“What’s the occasion?” I called over the noise.
“I don’t know. I had no idea this was happening today.” Eadaoin accepted a sweet apple from a giggling snake girl. “Thank you, sweetling.” She passed it to me. “Shall we join?”
I hesitated. I couldn’t get distracted. I was leaving Lumenfell for good that night, and there was still much to prepare before Shadowsoul summoned me back for my lessons. “There’s something I have to do first.”
Walking up to the stage, I signaled the fiddler once, twice, five times before he noticed me and stopped playing. Annoyance lit his feathery chicken face until he got a proper look at me. He grabbed the flute player’s elbow—eeking out a harsh, discordant sound.
The music stopped. The dancing stopped. Everything stopped.
Steeling myself, I climbed onto the platform. The band shuffled to the side.
“Excuse me, everyone. I’m sorry to interrupt your celebrations, but there’s something I need to say.” All eyes were on me—as blank and void as the eyes on me when the villagers attacked. Every smile and laugh wiped away.
As much as it pained me, I understood why they hated me. Their king set off to throw over the foreign princess they tossed in his lap, believing her to be a spy. Instead, he brings her to Lumenfell, and the first thing she does is unleash the literal wolves on them.
The funny thing was I’d be a hero back home in Lyrica if they discovered what I’ve done. Setting off a civil war and making the enemy they can’t defeat tear each other apart until they defeat themselves? To all of the summer fae, my blunder was a gift from Meya. But to me...
I was never supposed to be here. Presiding over life and death, setting off wars, playing the deadly game of politics. It wasn’t my life or my responsibility, but if it was, this wasn’t how I wanted to use my power. Maybe Kirwan, King Salman, or even Princess Emiana could crow and celebrate the slaughter of harmless villagers living out a simple life of farming, trading, and raising their children, but not me. I had done wrong.
“And I need to say so,” I rang out. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t take the time to learn about the customs and traditions of Lumenfell before I presumed to make decisions for it. I know you think me your enemy, but the truth is”—I hid a sad smile—“I have more in common with you than you might think.
“I don’t wish a single one of you harm, and by my honor, I will see to it that you’re protected.” My eyes traveled back to the wolves standing at the fringes. “If even one innocent person is hurt or killed by a wolf faeriken, Meallan will be killed, and Foalan named alpha of their pack.”
The blowback was immediate.
“ Argh! ” Snarls and growls turned the air as the wolves surged forward—coming for me fast.
“You do not name the alpha of our pack,” one woman roared. “We do!”
“You have no right!”
I smirked. “I have every right. I am your queen. Unless...” My grin widened. “If you’re claiming I’m not your queen and you’re not under my authority, then Meallan lied about dissolving the borders and welcoming the wolves as equal members of my kingdom.
“If you’re not members of my kingdom, the deal is forfeit and you’re trespassing on my territory. In that case, you can form an orderly line back to your dark pit in the forest.”
No one breathed. The only movement were the eyeballs rolling around in the villagers’ heads, shooting back and forth between me and the wolves.
“What say you?” I snapped. “Am I your queen, or are you leaving?”
The wolves shared a look—their lips peeled back from their fangs. I sensed their desire to sink them in my throat.
“You are our queen.”
I spun around.
Meallan leaned against the platform, munching on an apple. He winked at me. “And a formidable queen you are. Whatever ignorance you had of our customs, you’ve made a quick study.” He flung the half-eaten core over his shoulder. “Never fear, my oh so favorite madwoman, we have no intention of harming the villagers or a single innocent person. So certain am I that this will not be an issue, that I will accept your terms.
“If anyone in Lumenfell is unjustly slain by wolf hands, I will be put to death and my loathsome brother named alpha.” His smile was almost sweet. “Acceptable?”
I simply nodded.
“Then we’ll be on our way, and leave you to your celebrations.” Meallan jerked his chin and the wolves melted into the shadow—gone as eerily as they arrived.
Sighing, I turned back to my audience. “There. I hope that makes up for—”
“Huzzah! Huzzah! All hail Queen Emiana.”
I blew back, choking on a cry of surprise.
“Huzzah! We knew you would save us.”
“You are our savior.”
“Our champion.”
“Our queen!”
“Oh, ahh...” I was blushing worse than when Alisdair gave false, sweet compliments to torment me. These praises were actually real. “Th-thank you. My pleasure. Please enjoy your—” I scrambled down, helped off my Eadaoin.
“Wow, my lady. That was wonderful.” She squeezed my shoulders, jumping up and down. “You’re a genius. Of course if they’re one of us, they’re beholden to the queen. If there’s anything Meallan would chew his leg off to prevent, it’s Foalan being chosen as alpha in place of him.”
“The solution just came to me,” I confessed. “Although, when you live under a tyrant, you learn many awful ways to bring people to heel by force.”
She laughed. “You shouldn’t speak of your husband that way.”
Crazily, it wasn’t Alisdair I was thinking of. It was my fath— It was King Salman. Standing up on that stage, a memory assaulted me. A woman once came to the castle, crying because her entire harvest had been seized to feed the army. They hadn’t paid her for what they took, or left her so much as an ear of corn.
Salman listened to her weep for her starving children, and said that her land was in Lyrica, and Lyrica belonged to him. Therefore, every scrap of land and the food growing on it belonged to him—free and clear. If her crop didn’t belong to him, it meant she wasn’t a citizen of Lyrica. She was a dissenter and a traitor, and should be put to death on the spot.
She ran out of the throne room crying. Emiana never found out what happened to her after that.
Alisdair’s right. There is plenty of cruelty and barbarism on my side of the wasteland.
“Should we stay and enjoy the festivities?” Eadaoin asked.
“We shouldn’t. We don’t have much time before—"
“Mangoes! Get your sweet, juicy mangoes here!”
I took off through the cheering crowd, picking up pats on my head, shoulders, and back. Stumbling over a raised cobblestone, I fell on the mango cart—popping the merchant’s brow up.
He was a tall, hefty man with grayish, leathery skin, ears twice as large as his head, and large ivory tusks growing from his jaw. I’d never seen an elephant outside of a storybook. The curse sought to change that.
“Mangoes?” I cried. “Truly? You’ve managed to grow mangoes in this climate? How? You must tell me.”
“Not easily, is the answer, my queen.” He tossed me one, stealing an embarrassing shriek of glee from me. “They love sun, heat, and humidity. All in short supply in Lumenfell.”
“An understatement. They need eight hours a day of direct sunlight if they’re to thrive,” I said, holding my mango close. “And these are huge.” My eyes were big and round, straining to take in the red, orange, green, and pink treat. I had a mango only once in my life. They were expensive and hard to come by even in Lyrica, but I treated us one year on the twins’ birthday. One bite, and we devoured them so fast, the mango was gone in less than a minute. I promised the twins I’d learn to grow them, so we’d have them all the time.
Now I can go home with the news that I learned how to do it! I was so happy, I was bouncing up and down.
I got so deep in the conversation, listening to how he used magic to mimic the sun’s rays, that I almost didn’t hear someone calling me.
“—queen? Excuse me, Queen Emiana.”
“Ana,” I corrected automatically.
A cat woman stepped out from behind her cart, holding a basket. “If you like tropical fruit, you’ll love these.”
“Oooh,” I breathed, gazing at the big, purple fruit. “What is it?”
“We call it pranganut. Tough outsides, but inside are a bunch of little seeds that burst with sweet, tarty juice with every bite.”
“That sounds delicious. Would you tell me how you grow them?”
“Oh! How about I write down the instructions and put them in your basket?” she said, running back. “You have so many tributes to accept, I wouldn’t want to slow you down.”
“My basket? Tribute?”
“Yes,” she said, gesturing behind me.
Turning around, I fell on the crowd of villagers—all smiling, watching me, holding baskets of some type or other, and waiting.
I blinked. “What’s this? Is something wrong?”
Eadaoin stepped forward. “Nothing is wrong, my lady. They’re honoring you by paying tribute.”
“Me?” I squeaked. “Tribute to me? Because I dealt with the wolves?” I groaned under the heavy basket of pranganuts shoved into my hands. “Wow. You all forgive so easily.”
“Easily?” repeated the mango man. “Do you mean because we intended to kill you?”
We?
Eadaoin shot between us, growls hazing the air.
The man looked at me over her shoulder. “That’s in the past, my lady.”
“It was yesterday!”
“Exactly, yesterday,” he said, inclining his head. “Yesterday when our lord risked himself and sacrificed his people to protect you. We thought this marriage was forced on him by enemy kings seeking to destroy our home. Now we know we were wrong.” A beaming smile split his face. “You will save us, Queen Emiana of Lumenfell. You were his choice, now you are ours. And if that wasn’t so, why would we be celebrating you and your blessed marriage?”
I couldn’t have been more confused if he slipped into another language. The festival celebration was in honor of me? An honor they were bestowing before I apologized for unleashing the wolves.
“What do you think, my lady?” Eadaoin whispered.
I blew out a breath. “I think if they’re willing to forgive, so am I. Would you mind helping me get everyone into orderly lines?” I asked. “Also, I’ll need my carriage if I’m to carry all these baskets back to the castle.”
“Uhhh...” She looked from me, to Castle Riagin, to the line of people that was only growing longer. “Okay, but stay here,” she ordered. “I won’t be long.”
“Of course.”
As soon as Eadaoin ducked out of sight, I turned and left.
“I’ll be back to accept your tributes in a few moments,” I called back. “Keep those mangoes safe for me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mango Man replied.
Quickly, I hurried through the square, letting my mental map head me around carts and stalls to the quiet part of the village where they made their homes. I went farther still, lighting on the horse stall.
Riordan lifted his head from the horse’s coat when I slipped inside. “My queen.” He dropped his brush bowing to me.
I almost snapped at him to bow deeper, respecting my station. You’re not Emiana, I snapped at myself. Remember who you are.
“Stand up, Riordan, and call me Ana.” I reached to help him up, but he jumped back—nose wrinkling. I nearly forgot about Alisdair’s wretched marking. “I only came to make sure everything is in order for tonight,” I said, backing away until the tense line of his shoulders relaxed. “We have to leave at sundown. Exactly at sundown.”
“Everything is ready, my queen. As you said, the villagers all accepted an upfront payment with the promise of even more when their crops are sold in Lyrica. We have more carrots, sprouts, broccoli, cabbage, spinach, and peas than we’ll know what to do with.” He beamed at me. “And may I say again, what an honor it is to have been personally chosen by you for this position.”
“It had to be you,” I said absentmindedly. I moved from stall to stall, inspecting the horses. They had to be quick and strong enough to evade a beast.
“Me? Why did it have to be me?”
“The change hasn’t taken you yet.”
He inclined his head, accepting that easily. Which was good because it was the only reason the curse would let me give him.
“And the other matter that we discussed?” A lovely white-and-brown horse with a brown mane pushed against the wood to lay its head over my shoulder. I couldn’t fight a smile as I stroked her. “Olene, Meliora, Jaclan, Gisela, Savia.”
“Yes, Lady Ana. I understand that you want me to find and take you to them, but I don’t understand why.” There was shuffling behind me as Riordan resumed his task of preparing the horses for our trip. “You said you don’t know them.”
“I don’t,” I rasped, heart panging. “But it’s important.”
“I understand and I’ll do as you ask. I’m sure they’re still living in the same place. No one makes it out of the Galley.”
I peered at him over the horse’s muzzle. “May I ask you something? What are you doing here? You have a Lyrican accent, so your home wasn’t overtaken by the curse. You chose to be here,” I stated. “Why?”
He shrugged, smiling. “I never wanted to join the army, but my parents needed the money, so they sold me. Can you imagine? Selling your child to the battlefield to fill your own bellies.” Riordan tossed his head. “Anyway, I woke up in a hot and stinking tent one day, surrounded by hot, tired, and hungry soldiers, and I decided it was enough.
“Enough of war, death, and pain. Right then, I packed up my stuff, walked out of the tent, and set off for the kingdom of Wind and Wild,” he said. “I resolved to find the heart amid this frozen hell, stab it through, and end it once and for all.”
“And then?” I breathed, rapt. “What happened?”
He sighed. “And then... I discovered this place. I realized Wind and Wild wasn’t some frozen hell filled with filthy, bloodthirsty beasts. They’re just people, my queen. People suffering under a terrible curse. A curse that they want to be freed from just as much as the rest of Elva. They just don’t want to be slaughtered before they are.
“What happened is I saw the truth of what we—the summer fae—have done. It was us who started this war. Us who keep attacking and invading. Us who refuse to end the fighting. All the faeriken have done is defend themselves.”
“We had to go to war,” I blurted. “The curse is spreading. Eventually, all of Elva will be a land of winter and ice. A land forgotten by the sun and stars.”
Riordan nodded. “It’s true. Even if the faeriken aren’t invading Rajadom, Quatassa, Sarabai, or Lyrica, the curse most certainly is. Obviously, we can’t sit by while the curse kills the land and turns us all into mindless beasts. But that’s reason for us to work with the faeriken to end the curse. It’s not a reason to turn victims into enemies.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. I found a brush and joined him, preening the coat of my new friend. “I see that now. The faeriken are no less fae than us. They’re normal, regular people like us. They deserve help to break their curse, not a death sentence. But how will they ever get such help when the man who holds the cursed heart refuses to free them, or us, from its punishment?”
His smile remained. “Well, that’s where you come in, isn’t it?”
“Me?” I pulled a face. “Is that the answer? Is that why the villagers are so excited that Shadowsoul didn’t let me be crushed to death? They think I’m getting close enough to him that he’ll tell me where the cursed heart is, and let me destroy it?”
Riordan laughed. “That is always the answer, my queen. Beautiful women such as you are the weakness of every man’s heart.”
I’ll tell Emiana you said so the next I see the rotted bitch.
“My lady?”
I whipped around, landing on a shifting shadow outside the stable door.
“My lady, what are you doing in there?” Eadaoin asked.
I swallowed a curse. Alisdair’s marking would be the death of me. It was a beacon telling him, and everyone with a heightened sense of smell, where I was.
“Be ready for tonight,” I told Riordan. Reaching into the folds of my gown, I handed him a small pouch. “No excuses. No delays.”
“Yes, my queen.”
Eadaoin burst in. “Lady Ana?” Her eyes narrowed on Riordan. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on. I simply wanted to see the horses.” I brushed past her going outside. “Come now. Let’s not keep the villagers waiting.”
I STOOD ON THE TRAINING field, shivering in my calfskin boots.
I had the first enjoyable morning since entering Lumenfell. Villager after villager paid me tribute in fruits, vegetables, berries, and more. The best part, I got into long, fascinating conversations with nearly all of them about how to grow such in bitter, chilling weather. At some point, a group of us were gathered in the square—laughing, drinking ale, and trading tips.
It was truly fun... so, of course, my blessed husband would see to its end.
“You look ridiculous.”
I threw a furious look at the kakka.
“Truly moronic.”
Growling, I swung the bow and arrow on Alisdair.
Foalan waved his hand and the bow burst into feathers before it could make its flight. “My queen,” Foalan said flatly. “Kindly cease trying to assassinate our king.”
“No!”
Foalan sighed. “Lady Ana, you’re doing well. You just need to maintain your stance, and then take a breath before you release. It will help steady your aim.”
“Why must I learn to use a bow and arrow?” I asked. “I take no issue with weapons training, but why this weapon? Can’t I begin with a sword or dagger?” I looked right at the smirking Alisdair when I said that.
The man had me plucked from the village, but not for more map-memorization. Aeris brought me straight to the snow-covered training yard, and Foalan.
Orblights did their best to light the field, but there wasn’t much to illuminate. Snow six inches deep covered my boots. Three yards before me were the targets. On my left side, faeriken soldiers sparred and trained with each other. On my right, Alisdair leaned against the stone yard fence, testing how quickly Foalan could take away my arrows before they pierced his skull.
“The bow is the best weapon against the Taken,” Foalan explained. “Taken are foul, unnatural creatures born from dark magics we can’t comprehend. They have a strange, deadly effect on those they draw near—filling them with irrational terror.”
I shivered, swallowing hard.
“It’s hard to think, let alone fight close combat when your every instinct is screaming at you to run. That’s why you’ll fight with the bow, my queen,” he said. “You’ll kill them before they get close.”
I just nodded. I wasn’t expecting such a good reason, and that was the best. Killing those horrible things before they closed in on me was most certainly what I preferred to do.
“What are they?” I asked softly.
“I don’t know. They aren’t beget by”—he gestured to his wolf face—“or we wouldn’t be able to speak of them. But they don’t exist anywhere but this land, so we’d be a fool to believe they aren’t related.” He shook his head. “Maybe they’re what’s borne of a broken heart.”
“Have you given up already?” Alisdair called, setting my teeth on edge. “Well, at least watching you flailing around, shooting arrows at the ground, was entertaining.”
“Cease your blathering, beast,” I barked, “or get over here and help me. You and I both know I can’t learn properly when my instructor isn’t allowed to touch me.”
“Very well.” Alisdair hopped over the fence. “Regard me.”
“Wait, what?”
“Foalan, you’re dismissed.” Alisdair grasped my waist and I spun—gasping to find myself crushed to his chest and tucked under his chin. “I fear you’ll regret this, little bird. I’m not nearly so forgiving an instructor as Foalan.”
“You fear nothing,” I said, hating the desperate look I threw at Foalan’s back. “Least of all giving me regrets.”
His chuckle rumbled against my back. “To begin, point your feet away from the target.” We moved as one. Nudging his leg between mine, Alisdair moved my feet shoulder width apart. “Relax,” he ordered. “You’re tensing up before you’ve even touched the bow.”
I sent the call for my muscles to relax, but they didn’t obey. Alisdair had never been this close to me without fucking me senseless, or protecting me from getting pummeled. To have his body pressed to mine in a benign situation, wasn’t one mine understood.
“You’re both pulling back too far, and holding on to the bow too long,” he said. “You’re tiring yourself out before you’ve released, and then the force of it knocks you off-balance.”
I found myself nodding along. What he was saying made sense. “What do I do, then?”
“Relax,” he murmured. “Only pull back to the corner of your mouth, and then release. Don’t hesitate. Don’t overthink. Just let go.”
Nodding, I lifted the bow and—
“Stop,” Alisdair broke in. “You’re overextending.”
He reached out and laid his hand over mine—touch surprisingly cold. Surprisingly gentle. His other slid around my waist, moving me back into the proper position... pressed against his middle.
“You want your elbow slightly bent,” he said, pulling my mind out of rushing thoughts. “Now draw back, anchor to your mouth, and—”
I let go, a small cry leaving me as the arrow sailed away.
Thwack!
The tip burrowed into the target off-center. Very off-center, but it hit the target.
“Ahh,” I cried, jumping up and down. “Did you see that? I did it.”
“Again.”
His warmth left me so fast, I stumbled.
“You will continue until you either hit the bull’s-eye, or your fingers bleed,” he said, returning to his post against the fence. “I suggest you hit the bull’s-eye.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Alisdair was deadly serious.
He made me shoot again and again and again—going so far as to magically glue my feet to the snow-covered ground when I tried to leave.
Dry, cracked fingers pulled, yanked, and gripped the bow until my tears ran and my skin split open—slicking the wood with blood. I tried to draw it again and the string slipped, snapping me across the face. I dropped the bow, hands flying to my face, then crying harder for the pain of my touch.
A shadow fell over me.
“Go,” I shrieked. “You’ve gotten your wish, seeing me bleeding and crying in the dirt, so just leave me!”
“Don’t despair of blisters, little bird.” Hands grasped mine, drawing them away from my face. My breath stopped as cool, tickling magic washed over my skin. “For they become calluses.
“Stronger than they ever were before.”
The open, weeping seams on my fingers healed. Still pink and raw, but no longer bleeding and painful. I touched my cheek, finding its pain gone too. I looked up as Alisdair walked away. “Well done,” floated over his shoulder.
THAT EVENING, I ATE my dinner in our strange, three-walled bedroom. It was the perfect place to keep watch for the orblights to brighten to their maximum—the sole signal that the sun had gone down beyond the dark clouds.
I checked and re-checked my coat, boots, and supplies a dozen times. I mentally ran through my plan a dozen more times. This was it. I was finally going home.
The minute the lights blasted their radiance, I bolted out the door.
Foalan and Aeris were walking past the end of my hallway, deep in a conversation that had them both laughing. They caught sight of me.
“Good evening, Lady Ana,” Foalan said brightly. “Is everything all right?”
“Run,” I shouted, and then launched at him—throwing my arms around and rubbing my body against him in the most obscene hug I’d ever given. “Preferably in the opposite direction.”
“My queen!” Foalan bellowed, throwing himself back much too late.
Aeris’s face went deathly pale. “My lady, what have you done?”
A roar ripped through the castle, rattling it off its very foundation.
I ran.
Racing through the halls, I touched, grabbed, and threw myself at every man I came across, leaving shouts and panic in my wake. Alisdair thought his mark would keep me on a leash, but that’s the thing about leashes. They can also be used to hang the bastard holding the other end.
I made it outside and kept running, holding back the laugh trapped in my throat. Goodbye, Alisdair. All the best with the shortest, most ill-conceived invasion in history. It ends the minute I get home and tell the world about you.
Riordan glanced up when I came sliding across the corner, feet scrambling on the ice-slicked cobblestone. His weighted-down carriage was waiting right beside the path out of Lumenfell, and filled to the brim with vegetables for market—with one other addition. Magic aided him in building a wooden roof and compartment for a small, nimble person to hide in, buried under mounds of goods.
“Arrggghh!” A roar resounded over the horizon, chasing birds, rabbits, and all manner of flying creatures out of the trees, and winging away as fast as their wings could carry them.
“That would be my blessed husband,” I said, grinning wide. “Chasing my scent to every corner of the castle.”
“We’ve no time for gloating. My lord will realize he’s been tricked sooner rather than later. Hurry, Lady Ana,” Riordan belted. He tossed me a dura dura. “Get on!”
Dura dura. The most foul-smelling fruit in these lands or any other. Working fast, I held my breath and rubbed the stinky thing over my face, hands, clothes, arms, and everywhere.
Screams went up in the village, telling me it was past time to leave.
Heart thundering out of my chest, I threw my stuff in the hidden compartment, then hopped on.
Riordan took off like the hounds of hell were snapping at his feet, waiting for one trip or stumble to claim their prize and drag him to damnation. The horses surged up the hill—jostling their burden over the uneven, rocky path. It was only magic that kept the vegetables from falling out.
Or maybe it was fear. They had no desire to roll down and face what was coming for me.
Come on , I thought as squawks, screeches, howls, and barks went up in the village. Faster!
We broke over the hill and took off, racing down the snow-covered path.
The first thing I’d do when I got home was hug Mama, Meli, the twins, and baby Savia for five minutes each. Then, I’d pack our meager belongings, move them into one of the grand mansions on the hill, and then take extra pleasure in watching Kirwan shouting himself purple outside the gates when he discovered that home was his.
My dear husband, Alisdair, made such a show of insisting everything that was or would be was ours absolutely. Binding us as surely as the runes bound our souls. There was nothing wrong in filling my pack with the riches collecting dust on display.
Everything was about to change for me and my family, and after it did, I’d hunt Emiana down in her hiding places, drag her back to Lyrica, force her to give my body back, then throw her to the country she betrayed.
Riordan and I sped away from Lumenfell, leaving it farther... farther... and farther behind.
“Yes!” I cried, brimming with joy. I did it. I couldn’t believe I’d finally outsmarted the great and terrible Lord Alisdair Shadowsoul. This little bird had broken free of her cage.
A shadow appeared in the distance, moving fast across the horizon. I wasn’t certain if it was Shadowsoul or one of the Taken, and I didn’t plan to find out.
“Faster!”
“Ye-ah! Ye-ah!” Riordan bellowed, going harder on the reins. Glowing orblights swirled around the cart—lighting our way and shining a beacon in the darkness. No option of diminishing them. It was too dark, and the path too dangerous. Gnarled tree limbs stretched across the divide, desperately trying to tear him from his seat while dips and rocks sought to overturn the cart.
“Arggh,” he roared, and I knew without a doubt. The shadow was Alisdair, not the Taken.
He tore fast for the cart and the prize hidden inside. Fully changed, I got a flash of the beast coming for me. Lethal fangs, unforgiving claws tearing up the ground, curved back covered in black fur, and a body honed with a weapon-defiant hide and thick, ropy muscle. This creature was an instrument of killing, and nothing could stop it.
Riordan whipped back and forth, the white of his eyes drowning his irises the closer Shadowsoul got. Riordan was shouting before he pounced—leaping on the back of the cart and tearing it apart. A shower of carrots, cabbage, and spinach rained from the sky. Alisdair found the secret compartment and ripped it off as Riordan hit the ground and started running—not so much as looking back.
Alisdair found his prize—a pile of clothes covered in my scent.
I almost laughed as his roar ripped through the forest, bouncing off the trees to resound through the mountaintops. I leaned forward in the saddle, silently urging my horse on, and leaving Alisdair and his rage behind.
Of course he’d chase after the big, hulking carriage of the man I’d suspiciously chosen to ride back to Lyrica. And while he was wasting his time chasing after all the wrong men and all the wrong scents, I’d ride off into the lands of summer and sun.
Soon, everything faded behind me—light, sound, Alisdair.
I slowed my horse, then slid off her back. The two of us moving quietly and carefully across the perilous, shadowed landscape. Another hour passed. Then two. Then three.
On we trod, escaping the land of Wind and Wild as assuredly as we were escaping the night. Oh so soon, the sun would rise beyond the clouds, and the runes would strike Alisdair down. I eluded him until daybreak. He had to let me go.
Let me go he will, to return to Lyrica and save my family from the grip of Kirwan, but the truth is I’m not done with Lumenfell yet.
I nodded to myself, letting that thought sink into my bones. I couldn’t be done with Lumenfell until I found and saved the fox boy from Shadowsoul. Of course, I couldn’t delay my plan to break free of the marriage and runes. I could hardly free the boy from the castle when I was trapped in the castle.
But once I no longer had the runes boiling my skin, I’d come back with something Alisdair wanted, and trade for his freedom. Although, what he wanted was the issue.
It was abundantly clear that Alisdair wouldn’t settle for anything short of complete, total, soul-crushing revenge against King Salman for what he did to Raelina. He certainly wanted it more than he wanted a tiny, desperate thief. The question was how could I deliver that without committing treason?
I couldn’t lie. I held no fondness, respect, or regard for my king. I didn’t before I had Emiana’s memories, and I had even less after. Emiana experienced nothing but neglect, and she witnessed nothing but cruelty. The few times Salman tore himself away from the arms of his harem to hold court and meet with his subjects, he did the Alisdair equivalent of tearing their throats out.
He stole their land and coin while claiming it property of the kingdom. He jailed anyone who complained of the rising taxes. He suggested to struggling women that he would happily ease their burden if they joined his harem, and after they refused and walked out, he ordered his advisors to lay even more bullshit taxes and repossessions on them—driving them to the brink to force their no into a yes .
Salman was swine. To know him was to hate him. Lyrica would never become a free and just country with that man on the throne, but the fact remained, treason carried too high a price. In Lyrica, when an individual is charged with treason, they and their entire family are put to death. Made for a very strong incentive to never think such a crime, let alone carry it out.
What if there is a way to get Alisdair his revenge without committing treason? My mind spun, carried off by thoughts and theories as we ventured deeper into the dark forest. What if I went back to the beginning with Raelina?
Murder is murder. Outlawed in every land. While King Salman may be untouchable, he wasn’t king when he murdered his wife, Raelina. If I could find proof of what he did, I’d hand that proof to Shadowsoul and let him show the world who Salman really is.
I tossed my head, shaking that idea loose immediately. If there was proof of his crime, Alisdair would’ve found it already. One doesn’t resort to murdering someone’s daughter at the altar, or changing his mind and marrying his most hated enemy’s heir to get his claws into her rightful throne... if he hadn’t exhausted all other options.
Okay, I can’t get him proof but what if I could... could... get him Emiana!
My head snapped up. That was it. Emiana broke the treaty and tricked both nations into an arranged marriage with an imposter. If anyone committed treason, it was her. She sabotaged the treaty that would’ve ended the war, and was indirectly responsible for Alisdair having to attack King Salman.
Salman tried to strike his daughter for defying him and fighting the marriage, because said daughter was a fucking stranger forced to take his real daughter’s place. Treason against Lyrica, her interests, and the throne, and I had no doubt Alisdair could strongly make that case. And once Emiana was convicted, by law, everyone in her family had to be put to death.
Including her blessed father.
My mouth curled around the edges. Salman would hang himself on his own barbaric laws, and it would all be legal, undeniable, and unable to fall on me or my family. Alisdair would get everything he wanted, Raelina would receive justice, and with Salman and Emiana dead, Shadowsoul couldn’t use her claim to the throne to take over Lyrica.
He couldn’t use it anyway because he bound his soul to a poor peasant, not a princess. A fact I’d take great pleasure in telling him, while I impressed on him that he would be accepting my deal without argument or complaint.
I nodded to myself, grinning wide. I’d done it. I saved my family. I saved the boy. I saved Lyrica from a tyrant king and a terrible war. The only thing that could’ve possibly sweetened the moment is if I found the heart and destroyed it—saving all of Lyrica—but one mustn’t get too full of themselves.
Savior of Lyrica will do just fine. I wonder what second name they’ll bestow on me. I laughed. How delicious it would be to make Shadowsoul give me my second name. The woman who outran, outsmarted, and outmaneuvered him. When I returned, dragging the true Emiana behind, he wouldn’t dare to call me an entertaining little bird then.
“How premature.”
I snapped around, scream clogging in my throat.
“A mouse shouldn’t smile before it’s escaped the trap.”
Snow and dirt crunched under Alisdair’s paw— No, foot. He was rapidly changing, the beast clawing back under his skin for the smirking, handsome king to emerge. My horse took off so fast, she kicked up a wave of snow that smacked across my cheek.
My voice was a thin rasp. “How...?”
“Clever,” he hissed. “Oh, so very clever. I confess, I underestimated you. Spreading my mark on every male and man in creation. Using a decoy to carry me in the wrong direction. Masking your scent with that”—his nose wrinkled—“unfortunate smell.”
Alisdair started circling me, standing the hairs on the back of my neck on end. “Everything I was told about you was wrong. And to think, I was going to kill such a magnificent, intelligent creature.” I cried out, flinching away when a clawed finger suddenly stroked my cheek in the dark. “I bow to you, my queen.”
To my shock, he did it—bowing his head in deference to me.
“You are truly formidable. More than worthy of being my mate. My match. But...” He tore his clothes clean from his body. “This was always going to end one way. Come to me.”
“W-wait,” I cried, finding my voice. “Alisdair, please, you have to listen to me. I need to go back to Lyrica. I swear it’s important! You said I didn’t have anything to bargain, but I do— I will. Let me go and I’ll return for the boy with everything you need to get revenge against the king without war and bloodshed.”
He ate the distance between us.
“Or! Or,” I rushed, backing away. “Come with me. After I’ve done what I must, I’ll return and we can go together. There’s a cottage in Sarabai. A treehome in Rajadom. A guest lodging in Quatassa. Any one of those places could hold what you seek—”
Alisdair sliced the buttons of my cloak, letting the wind whip it away.
“—to get your revenge against Salman.”
The front of my bodice was next. Alisdair was a man possessed—slicing a thin, neat line through my clothes, unwrapping his mate.
“Alisdair, this is no trick. You have to trust me, if you do, everything will be put right.” I surged forward, grasping his face in my hands. “It’s not me you want!”
“I’ve told you, my queen...”
He waved his hand, and our surroundings melted away. The snow, the dark, the shifting shadows of the night—all faded.
“You’re all I want.”
I found myself in our bedroom. Seemed there would be no rough tree bark against my back, or snow melting under my feet. Alisdair meant to have me on a bed of silk and cotton.
My lips parted, telling him that I wasn’t Emiana. That we’d both been played for a fool by a selfish and desperate princess, and I had to get back to my family before Emiana’s desperation destroyed more than one life.
I opened my mouth to tell him if he let me, I’d bring him to his true mate—a woman just as ruthless, calculating, and treasonous as him. I opened my mouth, and nothing came out. Not because the curse held my tongue... but because Alisdair did.
He captured my lips in a rough and hungry kiss. Alisdair molded me to him—fitting our bodies together like puzzle pieces.
His hands were everywhere. Caressing my thighs. Tangling in my waves. Memorizing every dip and curve. Slicing up the remains of my clothes.
He nipped my lips, demanding entrance. The rough, forbidden ecstasy of our tongues tangling weakened my knees. I stayed upright only for Alisdair’s grip on my ass—holding me firm to him, wrapping my legs around his waist, moving his hardness between my middle.
Alisdair broke free and threw me. I swallowed a cry, soaring across the sheets and landing on the pillows. Muscles rippled on his back as he stalked toward me—the predator and his prey.
He kissed the inside of my ankle, making me shiver. My skin was alive like it’d never been before. I was acutely aware of the silk tickling my back. The glow of the flickering orblights, casting our shadows over the fireplace. The press of all the things I needed to say, lodging in my throat.
No.
I could say no. I could end this. Deny him the pleasure of ravaging my body like he denied me my freedom. His caged bird didn’t have to sing.
He skated up my thigh, his lips following in his hands’ wake. Little whimpers escaped my mouth under rough, biting kisses.
More markings. More claims of absolute ownership... and only one word to remind him I belonged to no one.
“Say it.” Alisdair shredded my undergarments—a flimsy barrier that was no match for him. “Go on, say it.”
I swallowed hard. He couldn’t know what I was thinking, and yet somehow, he always did.
“Say what?” I rasped.
“You look as though you have something to say, my queen. Do it,” he hissed through gritted teeth, gaze pinning me through. “You have my ear, as you have my bed, as you have my soul. Tell me what troubles a little bird.”
I held his gaze, body shaking. “I... I wish that you would trust me. There are things that you don’t know. Forces that are playing us both for a fool. If you let me go, I can put all things right.”
“Let you go?” He tsked, swirling a finger around my pussy, collecting the drops of wetness already coming. “I have let you go. Every night. You cannot fault me for your not being quite fast enough.”
I tensed. “Why are we playing this game?”
“Again you ask me questions I’ve answered many times.”
“Because your answers are lies!” I exploded. “You can hardly keep the mocking smirk off your mouth when you spout them! You don’t want me, so let me go!”
Alisdair sighed as he slipped one finger past my folds, then another.
My breath caught on a moan. Never had I hated myself more than when I dropped my knees, opening myself wider to him.
“Very well,” he said, his husky voice wrapping around my ears. “If everything I say is lies, then let me tell you something you’ll know is true.
“I will never let you go.”
My fingers stilled curling in the sheets.
“It is only the runes binding my soul that I allow you the illusion of running from me, and even then I gnaw at the leash—pouring everything I know of magic into burning them away during your precious head starts—just to catch you all the faster.” He dove in to the knuckles and spread his fingers, stretching me wider than I was ever meant to go.
“It doesn’t matter what you do, or what you say. You can shout to the heavens of small, mole-ridden cocks. You can bring Lumenfell to ruin. You can betray me and our conquer of Elva, but I will never run slower. As long as the moon and stars reign, I will chase you to the ends of the world and beyond.
“You are mine, little bird. My toy, my pet, my wife, my queen. So tell me—” His fingers jerked, striking that spot dead-on. My cry almost smothered him. “Do I lie?”
Body trembling, I gazed into his eyes... and shook my head. He wasn’t lying.
“I ask you again,” he continued. “Do you have something you wish to say to me?”
One word. That’s all I had to say and he’d pull out, walk away, and leave me to the torment of my failure in peace. Alisdair did own me in nearly every way. He didn’t have to have my body too.
“No,” I hissed clearly. Firmly. I let the power of it sink into my bones, and then— “I have nothing to say.”
“Good.”
We leaped at the same time—mouths colliding in a chorus of moans and clashing tongues.
I reached for Alisdair’s shaft but he was faster. He grabbed my hand and pinned it over my head. The other hand met the same fate.
His kiss was rough. The grip on my wrists iron-clad.
I bucked, trying to flip him. He snarled and pinned me down harder. Were we fighting or fucking? I wasn’t sure. Maybe both. All I knew was my body thrummed with pure, naked excitement and all the wrongness that came with. More truths than one were revealed that night. I wanted this man, this body, this cock, and there was no point denying it anymore.
My whole life I’ve done what I’m supposed to do. Been the good and responsible girl, denying myself of all the pleasures that weren’t already taken from me. For good and responsible girls, there was nothing more morally decayed on this earth than desiring Alisdair Shadowsoul.
He was a monster and a murderer. He courted death and war with a smile on his face, and tightened the screws of my cage while daring me to complain. There was a reason the curse was turning him into a beast. Not a bird, or a cheetah, or a wolf, or a mole rat. But a vicious, deadly beast only conjured in nightmares.
It was because that was the pure state of his soul, and knowing that I brought such a creature to heel between my legs, was hot, desperate need that burned my core to cinders.
Alisdair clamped my wrists with one hand, then shredded my bodice to ribbons. My breasts fell prey to his ministrations—his rough calluses gliding over my sensitive skin, leaving a trail of popping goose bumps leading the way to the innocent nub.
My moan poured from my lips.
Alisdair tweaked my nipple with abandon, making it ache with need. He descended like a swooping raven faeriken. Taking my nipple in his mouth, he scraped it mercilessly with his teeth.
“Fuck!” I cried out, pure heat shooting through my veins.
Alisdair was incredible like this. Rough, demanding, slavish to my pleasure, and distracted .
Bringing my knees between us, I kicked him off me.
“Argh!” he snarled, flying back on his back. I pounced on him, pinning his arms down. “You’re going to regret that.”
I smirked. “Promises, promises.”
Straddling him, I feasted on his body—palms flat on his chest and beginning a slow journey down. My toy, my pet, my husband, my king.
My fingers skated over the jagged scar on his chest. Bending down, I kissed it.
Thump-thump.
I froze, lips puckered. His heartbeat? Did Alisdair put his heart back in his chest? When? Why?
“You are a strange one,” he said softly, drawing me up. “Unpredictable. Unknowable.”
My smirk returned. “I wouldn’t say that.” Rising up, I dropped my knees on his arms, and my pussy on his lips. “I’m sure you can predict what I want you to do next.”
Alisdair’s grin mirrored mine. “Oh, but you do make yourself so hard to resist.”
The room spun. In a blink, I was looking up at the ceiling. I strained to get up and found I couldn’t. My shoulders were magically glued to the bed. “Ugh! Why must you always be in control?”
“Why must you always be too weak to make me cede control?” His palms slowly rolled down my body, flattening me to the sheets, then spreading my legs wide. “Once again you blame me for your shortcomings.”
I tried to kick him but he was already ducking down. Already taking control.
Riiippp.
Something soft and silky wrapped around one ankle, then the other. He bound them tight. I stared at him in confusion as he lifted my legs and stuck his head between them, dropping my ankles on his shoulders.
I made a shocked noise when he bent me in half, dropping his hard, muscled body on mine.
A swift, hard bite on my lower lip was all the warning I got before Alisdair pushed all the way inside, filling me to my limit.
“Uh,” I moaned—anchored by the sudden sharp pains above and below.
Propping his arms on either side of my head, Alisdair drew all the way out to the tip, then thrust back in.
I screamed, eyes rolling up in my head. Every muscle in my body clenched.
“Hmm. Not quite loud enough. Let’s see if I get it right the next time.” He started pumping— No, bouncing. Alisdair found that spot and he pounded it through relentlessly, going faster and faster until I popped on and off the mattress with every thrust. I was getting hit in the face with my own knees.
If he was seeking louder screams, he achieved that on the second thrust. I grunted, moaned, and screamed so loudly, my cries echoed through the missing wall—sounding my ravaging to all of Lumenfell.
“Yes, yes, ah, fuck! More, Alisdair. Harder!”
Alisdair was a man possessed, growling as he pumped faster still. Shredding the sheets trying to hold on to something real as raw, dirty pleasure carried him away.
It was too much for me. Pressure built in my lower belly, rising to a fever pitch. I wouldn’t last for one more second.
Alisdair struck that spot, and I screamed, back arching off the bed as explosions of light, heat, darkness, color, and pleasure ravaged my shuddering body. My cries scraped my throat raw, climbing higher and more unhinged when Alisdair stiffened.
He seized up—claws tearing straight through cotton and goose feathers as hot, sticky wetness exploded out of him and filled me to the brim.
He didn’t bother to get free before collapsing on top of me. He flattened me in half—weakened by his desire for a tiresome little bird.
“Not... so...” My pants heaved my chest. “...in control now... are you?”
His chuckle was a warm tickle on my neck. “Don’t be so certain. Tonight I will have you in every way a man can have a woman. You won’t walk for days—let alone run.”
He slid out from between my legs before I could respond. One snap, and my silk bindings were gone. Capturing my gaze, Alisdair dropped to his knees.
Is he—?
He buried his face between my legs without so much as a warning. I made a strangled noise as my legs snapped over his ears—back arching off the bed. Alisdair plundered my entrance—licking, nipping, and sucking on a particular bundle of heat and lightning that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Oh, yes, right there,” I gasped. “Oh, Meya, that’s amazing!”
I twisted and writhed on the sheets, yanking his head off his shoulders. What delicious irony it would be if after all my assassination attempts, it was my overzealousness in bed that finally ended the great and terrible Alisdair Shadowsoul.
I didn’t want to think of what my second name would be then.
My fingers found my nipples, tweaking them as rough and commanding as he did. I couldn’t believe it was only a short while ago that I ran from Shadi and the girls’ description of sex. Was I ever so innocent?
Oh, if that innocent girl were to see me now—teasing myself while the most feared in Elva licked the filthy drippings of my arousal and his seed clean from my pussy... Well, if she saw that, she’d be just as wanton with need.
My orgasm was already returning fast, and I was so weak from the first one, all I could do was shudder and scream as it ripped through the last of my defenses—shattering the last illusion I had of ever again pretending bedding Shadowsoul wasn’t the most thrilling, sexiest, and deliciously wrong thing I’d ever done.
All those other times, I could say I was helpless to his body and power, but this time, I knew what I was doing—and I knew I wanted more.
The top of his head disappeared. A warm, confident swipe across my puckered hole shot me upright.
“Oh! I didn’t realize that’s what more was!”
Alisdair trapped me with a hand flat between my breasts. Slowly, he drew me back.
“Easy, little bird,” he said in that unhurried, mocking drawl. “I haven’t begun to show you more.”
Sweat beaded on my skin even as it tightened with excitement. Alisdair had his way with both holes—teasing one, tasting one, and then switching it up.
Moans pealed from my lips—loud and begging.
“A-Alisdair,” I cried. Heat melted my core, contracting it almost painfully. “Alisdair!”
My husband bit that bundle of nerves, and I exploded.
“Uhhhh!” I moaned, feet drumming the side of the bed. Again and again pleasure bowled me over, blowing up my mind as one explosion ended and the other began. The chain reaction carried me all the way down, leaving me a flopping, sweaty mess on our sheets. “Oh, wow. People really undersold this whole orgasm thing.”
“They didn’t.” Alisdair lazily licked me off his fingers. “They’ve just never been with me.”
Cracking a smile, I put my feet on his shoulders, and kicked. Moving fast, I flipped over and scrambled away as fast as my jellied limbs would carry me.
“Argh! Damn you, woman! I will shackle those blasted feet to the bed!”
A shadow fell over me. The only warning given before Alisdair tackled me.
We flailed and rolled—swiping, shoving, straddling, and shoving each other again. I finally got him under me and sat on his face.
“All this time, I’ve been helpless to you. You will know what it is to be at my mercy!” Was that a lover’s promise or a threat? I’d say it was both and neither.
Alisdair grasped my thighs and lifted me off him—easier than lifting a pillow. “Not before you.”
He tossed me head over heels.
I flopped flat on my front with no chance of getting up. Alisdair jumped on me, lifted my hips, and thrust in to the hilt.
The sharp stab of pain rocked me, clenching the moan between my teeth.
“You wanted the beast,” he growled. “Rejoice. You married him.”
A long, filthy string of vile curses assaulted his ear while he pumped—pounding my aching hole senseless.
Alisdair stretched me to bursting, then stretched me some more. Sweat slicked our bodies, sounding a slap-slap-slap chorus that timed perfectly with my curses and cries.
“Fuck you, Alisdair! I hate you. I’ll always hate you— Uh, yes, right there,” I breathed. “Harder, you beast, obey your queen.”
He laughed—an insane, terrifying sound. “As you command, my queen.”
I knew my mistake immediately, but there was no taking it back.
Alisdair brought us both up to our knees, and impaled me on his cock.
I lost all capability of speech as he bounced me off his thighs, fucking me so hard, my head would’ve rattled off my shoulders and rolled away if it wasn’t attached.
“Ahh,” I screamed, walls tightening on him. “AHH!”
A variety of sounds, cries, and moans poured from my mouth while he rode me like an animal— pumping between my legs, bouncing me on the sheets, and filling my body with pleasure it had never known. I was trapped under his thrall. His little bird would not escape him.
“Oh, Alisdair, I can’t—” The heat was blazing out of control. Sweat slicked our bodies. My fevered pants hazed the air. “Please, I can’t— I can’t—” I twisted around, my gaze pinning him through. “I can’t believe this is how fast you can go.”
Oh, yes. Insane and terrible. That was the right way to describe that laugh.
Alisdair angled me up, struck that spot that rolled my eyes up in my head, and drilled it with impossible speed.
“Yes, ahh!” The first wave crashed and dragged me under. Pleasure so intense and searing exploded every nerve ending in my body over, over, and over again. And then again.
I blacked out.
At some point my lids fluttered open to find Alisdair draped over me, winding my fiery strands around his finger. He didn’t even seem winded.
“It’s about time,” he remarked, smooth and calm. “You’ll have to be awake for this part, since you’ll be upside down.”
My voice was a thin croak. “Wait, what—?”
The room spun again.