by S. A. Parker
The show’s over. Aero let go.
Aero, let go now!
He releases me and I become slack in his arms, relief surging through me.
“Thank you,” I croak. Why does my voice sound so brittle?
“Because you were screaming,” Aero says.
I peer up at his face, and it’s normal. Beautiful, bright, and pretty as fuck. He lifts me, holding me close to his chest as he walks us out of the bathing chamber and towards the balcony.
Is this when he throws me off the side and feeds me to the penis serpents? I wouldn’t blame him … I’m causing all sorts of issues right now.
“I’m not feeding you to the penis serpents, Dell.”
We reach the edge of the balcony. Aero just used my derogatory term for sea serpents in general conversation. I feel so validated right now.
His wings flare and I think we’re about to fly, but instead, he starts to fucking glow. He’s radiating energy and it’s saturating me. It travels in waves, out across the city and beyond, leaving in its wake a kaleidoscope of glorious colours—deep amber, rose, orange, peach and pink—they cape the city and reflect off the glassy ocean.
God-fucking damnit … and now I’m crying. I swipe at my tears and shake my head as Aero’s glow subsides, though the dawn continues to bloom.
He leaves me sitting on the edge of the balcony having my tearful moment, and goes inside. Great, because I need the space. It’s been a heavy turn of events.
My heart hurts.
As the dawn fades, Aero and Day come out to the balcony together, looking much less likely to throttle each other now.
“I was giving her a bath for a reason, Aero. She heals quicker than most mortals and her wounds are still filthy. I know it’s hard to concentrate when the dark side takes over, something you’re not used to dealing with, but if those wounds aren’t cleaned, she’ll end up with an infection.” Day sounds, and looks, agitated. “And our mortal pet power boost will die.”
Woah, zero to one fucking hundred. He could’ve said that to Aero inside! Arsehole. That’s all I am to him, a power boost? Every time I build a little hope in Day he tears it right back down again.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Aero snaps.
“Then do something about it, now, before I take her to my kingdom.”
“Ahh no thank you. Certainly not after that stunt you just pulled on me in the bathing chamber.” Fuckers got some gal.
Day’s cool gaze scans over me and eventually meets my own. “Part of you enjoyed it. I know you like the way I control your body, Dell.”
“What the hell makes you think that?” I snap. Presumptuous arse …
His gaze narrows. “Because, your cunt got slick when I grabbed your shoulders. I could smell it.”
Ahhh … I’m speechless. And breathless. And a little wet.
A grumbling sound comes from deep within Aero’s chest as Day’s nostrils flare. I blush, because I know exactly what he’s scenting … “That’s it, little mortal. I intend to make her weep so much that she won’t be able to see through the haze; once you stop ignoring your base urges.”
Wow. Block your ears, vagina.
“You think you know me? You have no goddamn idea what’s going through my mind.”
He walks to the edge of the balcony and spreads his wings wide, basking in the morning glow. But the dawn doesn’t suit him, not in the way day does. Because the dawn was made from Aero who looks fucking glorious right now.
Aero gives me a lazy smile that would shatter my heart if I had one.
Sol shrugs. “I’m sure Aero will give me an update once your mind catches up with your body. After all, Aero and I share a similar passion for pleasurable pain, and High Fae don’t mind sharing … most of the time.” He throws himself off the edge of the balcony and takes flight into the rising dawn, disappearing with a bright flash.
Well, fuck me.
Aero raises an eyebrow.
I roll my eyes.
I’m fucked.
Literally.
Chapter Ten
Yeah, so, Aero ends up cleaning my wounds. And now I’m fucking scared of him anew, because this is like pulling teeth. No … it’s worse. Granted, we’ve only done one knee, we haven’t even started on the other, or my shins, or my goddamn elbows. But hell, I think I’m done.
“For the love of dawn, Dell, sit still!”
I continue to squirm and coil like a worm stabbed with a spade, somehow managing to shift the heavy god who’s half sitting on me.
Earlier, when he finally got me into the bath and examined my wounds, he realised I’d healed over too much and they needed to be re-opened and scraped clean of the filth from the dungeon floor. Not sanitary down there apparently, go figure. So now I’m tied to the motherfucking bedpost because I kept trying to gouge out Aero’s eyes while he was scraping out my wounds.
Fuck you, accelerated healing. You bitch.
He brings the blade down again, this time aiming for the scab on my shin. He’s numbed the area almost to the point of entirety but it’s not the pain that’s affecting me, it’s the fucking knife. Seeing that blade carve through my flesh … the thought of it slicing into wounds long since healed. At least visually, anyway.
I aim my knee as I coil to buck, and land it straight in Aero’s groin.
Bingo, bitch.
He bellows then hisses sharply, clenching his eyes closed as he cradles his ball sack, taking deep, controlled breaths like he’s in fucking labour. “I swear to God, dear, you’re going to be the death of me.” He opens his eyes and the remnants of his feral dark side seeps from the whites.
I quiver a little. Though … perhaps he could channel that energy elsewhere?
“Dell …” he warns, glowering, that marvellous body unfurling to hover over me.
My wrists are bound above my head, my only attire a light shift, something to give Aero access to the areas that needed tending.
My lips quirk up at the sides, because what I have in mind, I’m good at, whether I want to be or not. But right now, I deem it the lesser of the two evils, the worse—watching Aero carve my scabs off and scrape the imbedded filth from my flesh with a blade. No thank you.
I twist my hips, urging the shift up towards my waist and exposing the high waisted lace panties I conveniently found in one of my drawers. If Aero didn’t want to see them, he wouldn’t have put them in there. He only has himself to blame here.
I stretch my body out, preening like a cat and arching myself tantalisingly off the bed. Yeah, I even moan a little for impact, closing my eyes and sucking my bottom lip between my teeth like I’m caught in the throes of pleasure. I open one eye to see him watching me with a predatory, curious gaze, though his eyes are still normal. Hmm.
“Stop it. Now.”
I smile. “Stop what, big boy?”
He moves forward and his eyes finally start to ink over.
Yeah, here we go …
But he stops, so close to me I can see the curl of his eyelashes. Harder to miss is the growing bulge in his tight leather pants.
Holy fuck.
Yeah, no. Fuck no.
I might’ve gotten a bit more than I bargained for here because I think that thing would actually rip me in half.
“It would hurt, I’m not saying it wouldn’t. But you’d enjoy the pain.” Aero drops the blade to the nightstand then shifts himself so he’s perched, watching my body, now slack and a little frightened. Of his massive penis.
At the same time, I can feel my nether region practically drooling. Fuck you, vagina. You don’t know what’s good for you. But hey, I give her points for courage, though it’s leading her down a direct path to an early vagina grave.
Perhaps I’ll speak of her courage at her funeral. I’ll be like, ‘She was a brave vagina …’
Wow, I’m rambling.
Aero drops in low, bringing his mouth tantalisingly close to my ear. Or not, because I’m so scared of his penis and regretting my life decisions that
now my entire body’s on high alert.
“Just remember Dell,” he whispers. “When your body’s writhing from the inside out and you feel like you have no control, this … this was your own fault.”
I gulp. Audibly. And pray to the Vagina Gods for her safe return. But then he disappears. Like … gone.
And here I am, tied to a bed made from motherfucking rose rock. I give my hands a tug, then frown.
Yeah, I might be here a while.
Chapter Eleven
“Well, well … what do we have here?” Drake saunters in out of thin fucking air, looking all golden and dusk like.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.
I tug at my restraints, which, goddammit, are still holding fast. Screw you, Aero, and your tight sailors’ knots.
Aero appears beside me. “Only if you ask nicely.” He tests my restraints. “But we’ll have to be quick about it, before everyone else gets here.”
I almost choke. “Excuse me?”
Kal and Day turn up, looking pissed off.
“Too late,” Aero drawls.
“This really is not my day,” I mutter, eyeing the Sun God congregation by my bed.
“Well, not yet anyway,” snaps Day, sounding a wee bit too feral for my liking.
Someone’s in a bad mood. Aero probably caught him balls deep in a sea of women. I’d be pissed too if I had blue balls.
Aero suppresses a smile. Unsuccessfully.
“What are you smiling at, Dawn?” Kal asks. “Because from where I’m standing, shit’s gone really fucking downhill since you took charge.”
Kal’s attention is on me, scanning every inch of my body. My shift is still up around my waist because, once I got the fucker up there, I couldn’t get it back down with no hands.
His brow’s creased, and he’s not looking at me in the way I’d expect him to be looking at me when tied to the fucking bedpost with my gear all out on display.
I clear my throat, then ask, “To what do I owe the honour?” in the most dignified voice I can muster.
“I think you know why we’re here. How about you make this easy on all of us,” Dusk rumbles as he steps closer to me. Actually … as they all do.
Shit.
If Aero’s penis is anything to go by, I’m either about to be torn apart four different ways, or worse, they’re about to exercise their rights to clean my wounds. By force.
“Just so you all know,” I state, swallowing the lump in my throat, “I kicked Aero in the balls earlier and I’m pretty sure he’s infertile now. Just saying.”
“It takes more than that to tamper these bad boys.” Aero throws me a wink, causing the others to eye roll. Well, Drake and Kal. Day just frowns.
Right. Of course. Aero probably has a million children with his million different girlfriends, who all must have immortal vaginas that just magically pop back into place after the assault of his gigantic penis. Makes sense. Why does that thought sting? Probably because I’m barren as fuck. Yeah, that’ll be why.
Aero growls under his breath, his eyes beginning to ink over as he grabs at one of my legs, copping a foot to the jaw by the one that’s still free. Bullseye.
Drake stifles a laugh. Soul sister. But then he catches me watching him and frowns. Still fucked off with me, it seems.
Aero ties that foot in place to an adjacent bed pole. Day smirks and I suddenly can’t move my other leg. Figures he would let Aero get kicked in the face when he could’ve just compelled me to lay still from the start. Arsehole. Now I can’t move at all though.
“What the fuck? Why tie me if you’re just going to compel me to be still anyway?” I scream, because I’m beginning to panic now.
“Precautions. Plus, I like seeing you tied to the bed,” Day states with a hard gleam in his eye. Bastard.
Kal sets out equipment on a tray atop the bedside table. He takes a small bottle and tips some of the fragrant fluid onto a cloth, which he rubs all over my angry looking scabs, effectively numbing them. Aero sterilises four small blades in the fire.
Fuck.
There’s sweat breaking out all over my body.
They each snatch up a blade.
Double fuck.
This is worse than getting gang banged by four feral cocksuckers with pronged schlongs.
No, wait … that was bad.
But this situation is triggering all sorts of visuals inside my head. I’m pretty sure I’m hyperventilating … I can’t get enough air into my lungs …
“Kal, you need to do something. Now. You should’ve done it as soon as you got here like we agreed,” Aero snaps, as they converge, blades poised.
My eyes are darting around, moving as swiftly as my mind.
Kal bares his canines at Aero. “If you had done your job properly, we wouldn’t be in this situation and I wouldn’t have to be using my magic on her again. Now I’m going to be on her shit list forever. So, fuck you.”
Day lets out a savage growl. “Just fucking do it!”
Kal throws something heavy across the room. I don’t see what, but it shatters loudly.
I seem to be causing all sorts of dramas …
Darkness.
Chapter Twelve
I wake in an unfamiliar bed, bandaged.
The headboard gleams like sparkly glass. I reach back and tap it with a nail.
Ting!
Ok, not glass but something similar. Something expensive looking.
The whole room is made of the same stuff, even the floors and roof, all gleaming like the star filled night born in the day. It’s stunning. Surely even a small section of that wall would be enough to fund my little life in the East … just saying.
I tap my bandages and feel no pain. Either I’ve been asleep long enough for them to have healed, in which case I’m going to castrate Kal then feed his testicles to a pig, or else I’m smothered in enough of that fluid to numb the pain entirely.
Groaning, I sit up. Shit, I’m hungry. Starving in fact. I unwrap one of my arm bandages and breathe a sigh of relief. I wasn’t really looking forward to castrating Kal. The wounds are clean and have healed quite a bit. Knowing my accelerated healing pace, I’ve probably been out for only a couple of days.
I wrap the bandage around my arm again then push the covers back, noting the white gauzy dress I’m wearing. Pretty. Whoever dressed me gets a gold star for effort. But also loses that star for seeing me naked while I was sleeping. Fucker.
I find a toilet chamber and relieve myself, then check the mirror as I’m washing my hands. What the fuck?
My cheekbones are flushed, my ivory skin gleaming in the light, and my lips appear fuller than usual; deep red and healthy looking. But most alarmingly, my wayward curls have been brushed out then placed in an elegant updo. Someone’s taken more care with their unruliness than I’ve ever bothered to in the past.
I turn to examine the low cut of my dress, which exposes my scar ridden back in full. Well, I’m screwed if I’m going to walk around a place I know nothing about, though suspect it’s the Day kingdom because it’s bright as fuck, looking for food with all that on display. I might as well paint a giant ‘R’ for rebel across my motherfucking forehead. Not a good idea when the High Fae are the ones who uphold a law which suppresses women, especially Lesser Fae women, and empowers all men.
I take the shell shaped pin out of my hair and let my curls tumble down my back, covering my scars and floating down to my bum. Now, food.
After navigating a labyrinth of sparkly hallways and passing absolutely nobody, I finally stumble across the scent of food. Like a rogue hound, I follow my nose down a few flights of stairs, noting the shift of building material to stone on the third flight, just before I step into a large kitchen.
My jaw drops.
What the fuck is going on here?
The cooks are mainly men, up to their elbows in bread dough and flour or scrubbing dishes with tea towels thrown over their shoulders.
Men don’t do this work, not in the Lesser Territory I com
e from, and as far as I was aware, not in the High Kingdoms, either. But here, females and males are working side by side, and they seem happy about it …
I massage my temples. Ok, so either I’ve lost my banana entirely, and this is all some complex fragment of my imagination … or I’m missing something important here. I’m thinking it’s probably the latter … Sol has some explaining to do.
A smiling male with thick arms and orange stubble shadowing his jawline walks over to me, a tea towel in one hand and the plate he’s drying in the other. “Need anything, luv?”
Luv? Not whore, cunt, or cum dumpster?
I stutter out something unintelligible. They probably don’t recognise me as Lesser Fae, not dressed like this anyway. Granted, nobody in this kitchen has their wings out. I guess they’d get in the way, be a bit of a fire hazard and all that.
The man looks confused. “What was that, dear? Didn’ quite catch it.” He has an accent which accentuates his A’s delightfully, his voice a roguish purr.
“Ahh, do you have anything spare to eat?” I sputter.
“Of course, luv! Why didn’t ye’ just say! Nex!” he bellows, and a boy with jet black hair stumbles through a door wearing an apron covered in food splatters.
“Yes, sir?” His adolescent face, rife with hormonal spots, flushes.
“The girl’s starving. Get ‘er a feast sorted in the dining hall. Make it quick before she eats ‘er own fist.”
I blush and drop my hand, nails chewed to the stubs.
Five minutes later I’m in an excessively large and very sparkly room, one wall entirely open to the cyan ocean beyond. I’m sitting at a long table laden with lobster, steamed salmon, a bowl of root vegetables and a massive slice of cake oozing a thick, dark drizzle.
I toss pine nuts from a small bowl over the vegetables and proceed to tuck in, gorging myself like a boss for a good half hour. I finish with the cake, though by the time I’m licking the plate clean I’m so full I can hardly move, that brown sweet stuff smeared all over my face and hands. Damn, that was good. I’ll probably masturbate to it later.