Fae Games

by Sofia Daniel

  “Very well.” Prince Caulden placed an arm on the small of my back and guided me to the wood. “We will accept your hospitality with grace.”

  “Warm heart, that one.” The hag leaned on the side of her armchair, giving me what she probably thought was a saucy wink. “Cold hands, or is he hot all over?”

  With a choking splutter, Prince Caulden lowered himself on the woodpile and gestured for me to sit at his side. I sent Pokeweed a silent apology for potentially ruining his beautiful, gossamer dress and perched on the end of the wood.

  After Prince Bradwell sat, the hag slumped down on her seat and rubbed her gnarled hands. “Dear me. Dear, dear me! What a dark web of intrigue we have here!”

  “My Lady?” asked Prince Bradwell.

  “None of that High Court etiquette if you please. It’s Mistress Catha or Baba to you.”

  “Can you help me find two people?” I asked. “One of them is a high faerie in the Dark Fae Prison, and the other is my sister. She’s a human, and—”

  “You don’t have a sister.” She folded spindly arms under her ample breasts.

  “That’s because I was cursed into becoming a half-blood,” I said.

  “You’re not a half-blood, either.”

  “Mistress Catha,” said Prince Caulden, his voice smooth. “This is rather confusing. Until about a week ago, Unity was a human girl living in Doolish.”

  She leaned down to the floor, picked up a mug from the foot of her armchair, and slurped its contents. “I see that.”

  “Yet, you say she is not a half-blood?”

  After balancing her mug on her chair’s overstuffed arm, the hag rested her forearms on her lap and looked into my eyes. “That curse you absorbed turned you into a full faerie. A powerful one, if you can ever unlock your magic. But it also wiped your sister out of existence.”

  My throat thickened. “But I saw her with four dark faeries, and they took her away.”

  “One moment.” She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “Right. Oh, deary me!”

  My stomach dropped to the dirt floor. This couldn’t be good. Prince Caulden gave my thigh a soothing pat, but it did nothing to stop the cold dread inching up my back.

  “What do you see?” asked Prince Bradwell.

  The hag leaned back in her seat, nearly getting swallowed in its cushioned back. “Four strapping lads with huge bat wings, howling over the loss of their big brother?” She tapped her wrinkled face with those terrible, spindly fingers. “Four furious lads looking to slake their fury on a girl trembling like a newborn fawn that’s lost its mother?”

  Terror exploded through my insides, grabbed me by the throat, and choked off my air. This was exactly as I had imagined. A quartet of the darkest faeries taking turns to hurt Sicily.

  I could only rasp, “Yes.”

  “The curse wiped her out of existence before the first blow,” said the hag.

  Everything stilled, including the yellow flame on the wax candle. The shadows around the hovel stopped flickering and crept toward us, making every fine hair on my body stand alert.

  A shudder traveled down my spine, and I whispered, “I don’t understand.”

  “She disappeared.” The hag spread her eyes wide, jostling the mug, which remained on the arm of the sofa but sloshed pungent liquid over the floor. “Poof!”

  Prince Caulden wrapped an arm around my shoulder, bringing me into his strong, hard body. “She never suffered?”

  “As I said, she went before they could do anything.”

  I rubbed my temples. “She’s dead?”

  “She never existed.”

  “Then why do I remember being human?” I asked.

  The hag raised both shoulders. “The human girl you used to be also never existed. But if I were a vengeful dark prince who blamed you for my impending and excruciating death, I probably would curse you to remember the sister I took away.”

  My insides crumbled along with the last scrap of hope that I would ever see Sicily, and a surge of grief rose from my crushed heart to the back of my throat and the backs of my eye. I lowered my head, letting tears roll down my cheeks and fall onto the fabric of my gossamer dress.

  “She’s gone,” I said through choked sobs.

  Nobody spoke, and I appreciated the silence. Right now, any words of platitude would push me over the edge. I was glad Sicily hadn’t stayed long in the Otherworld or suffered at the hands of those dark faeries, but she was worse than dead.

  Prince Caulden rubbed soothing circles on my back, giving me time to work through my emotions. Sicily was no longer in pain and not tormented, but I couldn’t come to terms with her never existing.

  “We also came about another matter,” said Prince Bradwell.

  “The girl with the stolen magic?” asked the hag.

  Prince Bradwell paused for a second. “Yes. Helenium of Medietas.”

  I raised my head and met the hag’s rheumy gaze. For several heartbeats, we were locked totter in mutual curiosity. It was like she was looking into my soul and gathering all its secrets. Whatever she saw, it made the hag close her eyes, shake her head, and pick up the mug of goodness-knows-what for another slurp.

  “Please,” said Prince Bradwell. “We need to know if Helenium is still alive and well.”

  The hag set down her mug, and it sank into the cushioned arm. “Alive. But not well.” Her gaze flickered to mine. “Do you remember how I said your human sister escaped the wrath of those four dark princes?”

  “Y-yes?” I rasped.

  “They are working off their frustrations on your Helenium.” She shook her head. “Four strapping lads and a light fae who hasn’t yet had her first heat. It’s not pretty. Not pretty at all.”

  “Good Lord,” said Prince Caulden. “How do we get her out?”

  “Pyre stones on the new moon is your best bet.” The hag raised a shoulder.

  A spurt of hot anger had me yelling, “Helen won’t last until then.”

  “True.” She leaned back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest.

  The hag’s eyes gleamed in that kind of calculation vendors made with a person stupid enough to show too much interest in their wares. It was that I’ ve-got-you-now glimmer with a side order of I’ m-going-to-empty-your-purse.

  I glanced at Prince Caulden, who leaned forward, making the pile of wood creak. His jaw was set in a determined line, and he clenched his fists so tightly, the knuckles turned even whiter than the rest of his alabaster skin. On my other side, Prince Bradwell stiffened, his face a rictus of horror.

  My throat dried. Usually, at times like this, I would haggle until I got a reasonable price for the information she was deliberately withholding, but Helen’s life was at stake. I couldn’t waste a minute when my friend was suffering untold torment.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “A favor,” she said.

  “Elaborate,” whispered Prince Caulden.

  Her eyes danced. “Unspecified, and from all three of you,”

  My mouth dropped open. That could mean absolutely anything from taking the Wishbone before I got a chance to use it to handing over my firstborn. “I can’t do that.”

  “Then I can’t share with you the ritual to extract your friend from unending degradation, suffering, and violation,” she said with a smirk.

  “Choose something else,” I said, my temperature rising at the hag’s smugness. “Riches, a pardon—”

  “Alright,” said Prince Bradwell.

  I twisted around and gaped at the cerise-haired prince. “What?”

  He straightened on the pile of wood, looking everything like the noble prince in his Royal Fae Academy uniform. “But on one condition.”

  The hag smirk widened, revealing swollen gums. “Name it.”

  “That I’m the only person who pays the favor, and you only claim it once.”

  I’d heard that phrase, ‘grinning from ear to ear,’ but that just meant a huge, beaming smile. The hag’s face split as t
hough she had hinges in her ears, then she threw her head back and laughed. It was a mix of cackles and rasping coughs that set my teeth on edge.

  Prince Caulden leaned across and whispered, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “It’s our fault Helenium is in this predicament,” Prince Bradwell replied. “If we hadn’t conspired against Unity, the girls wouldn’t have thought to throw Helenium into Dubnos.”

  My hand slid over Prince Bradwell’s, and he let my fingers intertwine with his. I murmured, “Be careful.”

  He nodded.

  The three of us huddled together on that wretched pile of rotten, creaking wood, waiting for the hag’s maniacal laughing to stop. The way she hugged herself and swung from side to side, wheezing out her glee, presumably at having ensnared something more valuable than we could fathom.

  After several laughing coughs, she said, “I want a vial of your seed.”

  Prince Bradwell stiffened. “To what end?”

  “Nothing as nefarious as getting myself pregnant and birthing a child to put on the throne.” The hag waved a dismissive hand. “If I wanted that, I would pump your father for his essence.”

  My lips tightened, and I swallowed back a throat-full of bile. This hag sure had some reprehensible ideas.

  “Why do you want my brother’s seed?” Prince Caulden growled.

  “Jealous?” She swept her gaze up and down the Winter prince’s form as though he wasn’t half attractive as his brother. “Your magic is only good for making things wither and die.”

  I clenched my teeth. “If you can’t tell us—”

  “Alright, alright!” She hoisted herself off the armchair, knocking aside her drink, and shuffled to the grotesque candle. After blowing on her fingers, she rummaged within the depths of its yellow-brown wax and extracted a vial containing white liquid. “I’ve been saving this for the right moment.”

  Beside me, Prince Bradwell deflated, making me wonder if he knew what the hag was going to say next.

  “Get to the point,” growled Prince Caulden.

  She tilted the vial from side to side, making its contents slosh. “This is an unfinished elixir that will grant its drinker either the spring of youth, their summer prime, or their autumn glory. The fourth option is that they wither and die, but there are better ways to commit suicide.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “It’s missing an important ingredient you can only get from people as powerful as the princes.”

  “Clever girl!” she said with a cackle.

  Prince Bradwell stood. “Very well. Tell us how to free Helenium, and I will place my seed in your vial.”

  The rheum in her eyes vanished, replaced with a gaze so heated, it made her bosom bob up and down with her fevered breaths. “Seed first. Then I’ll hand you a scroll with the ritual. And I get to do the milking.”

  “No.” I shot to my feet. “I’ll do it. And we’ll need a bit of privacy.”

  Prince Bradwell shot me a grateful look.

  Prince Caulden stood, his brows drawn together. Despite his worry, he swept his arm out and gestured to the back of the room. “While we’re waiting, Mistress Catha, why don’t you introduce me to your cat?”

  “Very well, but I want a full load.” She hobbled past and shoved the vial in my hand. “No sampling!”

  I clenched my teeth and glared at her crooked back. What did she think I was, some kind of cum guzzler?

  Moments later, Prince Bradwell and I stood side by side, shooting each other nervous looks. This was so fucked up, it wasn’t funny, and the hag’s excited, heavy breathing as she detailed the habits of Mister Mcvittie, the cursed-to-silence talking cat wasn’t helping the mood.

  “Unity,” whispered the prince of the Spring Court. “You don’t have to do this. Just looking at you while I take myself in hand is enough.”

  “I want to.” Slipping the vial in my pocket, I stepped in front of Prince Bradwell and placed both hands on his chest. His frantic heartbeat reverberated against my palms, and I slid one hand down the contour of his pectoral muscle and over his abs.

  At the waistband of his pants, I whispered, “May I?”

  He closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath. “Please.”

  Prince Bradwell’s erection was hot and hard and protruding from his academy breeches. My mouth watered at the chance to toy with another royal penis, but a cackle from the hag behind us reminded me to hurry this hand-job.

  With the deftest of movements, I unbuttoned his fly and wrapped my fingers around a thick erection with a bulbous tip nearly as dark as his hair. It pulsed in my grip, and a pulse of need shot through my core. Prince Bradwell was just as huge as his brothers and just as delicious.

  “Oh,” I murmured.

  “Anything wrong?” he whispered back.

  “No, but I understand why the hag thought I might be tempted to have a taste.” I pumped his hard length, making sure to give him a tight squeeze at the top.

  Prince Bradwell let out a shuddering moan as enough precum drizzled from his slit to lubricate the up-and-down slide.

  Heat gathered between my legs, and after a few more strokes, my folds became slick with need. I squeezed my thighs together, clenched my teeth, and focussed on the dick in hand.

  Grunts and gasps filled the hag’s little hovel, from Prince Bradwell getting his hard and fast wanking, from my sexual frustration, and noises from the excited creature at our backs. I didn’t dare turn around to see what she was doing, but I had faith that Prince Caulden was safe from molestation.

  I had to speed this up. The longer I spent playing with this gorgeous, huge prick, the longer Helen was suffering under the mercies of four princes of darkness.

  “Look at you,” I whispered into Prince Bradwell’s ear. One hand cupped his hard ass, and the other twisted around his thick, wet cock-head. “So big and hard.”

  “W-what?”

  “I love touching your massive, royal dick. It’s taking every ounce of willpower not to get on my knees and suck.”

  Prince Bradwell’s head lolled back, and he let out several noisy, panting breaths. “Really?”

  I slipped the vial out from my pocket and held it at the tip of his cock. “I want to see you cum. I want to see you spurt all over my fingers in a blaze of royal glory.”

  “Argh!” His knees buckled, moving his dick out of the vial’s range. Still clinging onto that tight ass, I jerked forward and moved the vial back in place as he ejaculated his first spurt.

  “Unity!” he roared.

  My heart clattered like the hoofs of a horny centaur, and I bent low, collecting spurt after spurt of Spring-Court-magic infused semen. The white fluid at the bottom of the vial turned as cerise as Prince Bradwell’s hair, and by the time he had shot the last of its load, the elixir glowed with effervescent power.

  I pulled the vial away from his still-hard dick and drew back. “Are you alright?”

  “Never better.” Prince Bradwell’s cheeks burned brighter than the earwax candle. “Thank you.”

  I placed the cork back on the vial. “You’re welcome.”

  As I straightened, the hag cried out. I whirled around to find her hunched over herself, jerking her elbow back and forth as though she was sawing wood.

  “Oooh!” she rasped. “That was magical!”

  I glanced around for signs of Prince Caulden and found him facing the door encased in a sarcophagus of ice. Poor guy. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with his brother’s dick, I would have joined him to escape from the hag.

  After downing the contents of the vial, which made absolutely no difference to the hag’s appearance, she walked us around to the back of her home and gathered ingredients from her herb garden for a ritual that needed to take place after sunset. She handed us a scroll and shoved us off her land, telling us she had better things to do than mollycoddle a bunch of clueless children.

  About an hour later, the carriage dropped me off outside the remedial building. I kissed Prince Caulden goodbye and
arranged to meet after dinner, but as I stepped out, Prince Bradwell escorted me to the doorstep.

  “Unity.” He took hold of my hands. “Did you think I would disapprove of you for being victimized by Elijah Meadowhawks?”

  I gazed into his amber eyes, which shone with compassion. “You were so angry with me last night, I really couldn’t tell what you’d say when you discovered the truth.”

  “I’m sorry for thinking you were in collusion with him,” he replied. “The Duke of Medietas said Meadowhawks has a woman in each of the major human settlements on the Isle. They all believe themselves to be his only lover, and he only chooses those who rely on his gifts to survive.”

  I swallowed hard. Even after surviving his string of betrayals and violations, this latest revelation stung. “Why hasn’t anyone stopped him?”

  Blowing out a long breath, Prince Bradwell shook his head. “When I take over the Spring Court, I will extend the enchantment that protects humans from malevolent magic to protect them from exploitation. Until then, there is little I can do to change the lore.”

  I bowed my head. “Thanks.”

  “Villains like Elijah Meadowhawks encourage well-bred faeries to devalue those of our society who need the most protection. I’m glad he’s behind bars.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?” I asked.

  “He’s languishing in a dungeon now. If he participated in the theft of Helenium’s magic or any dark magic acts against full faeries, he’d be executed.”

  I nodded and pushed open the door to the remedial building. Elijah was a lowlife, but he probably wouldn’t have been stupid enough to act against Helen. Not when her father was the Duke of Medietas and headed the king’s guard.

  The scent of Earl Grey tea wafted down the hallway. Once the guards realized that the other girls had implicated him to frame Lady Gala, he would be free to violate human women as he pleased.

  “See you tonight, then.” I stepped through the door into the stone hallway.

  “Unity,” said Prince Bradwell.