Prince of Wolves: Autumn Court #3 (Rosethorn Valley Fae Romance)

by Tasha Black

  The way the women of the Winter Court talked about this made it sound like a parlor trick. A man put his mouth there and presto, the deed was done.

  This was something deeper, and much more complicated.

  Varik was communing with her, loving her with every reverent stroke of his tongue.

  Colors exploded behind her eyes - visions of the woods of Faerie, two wolves streaking past her, frolicking and happy, a big one and a little one, their fur so soft and lustrous she could feel it without touching.

  “Varik,” she moaned, unable to find the words to ask him whether he was showing her these things on purpose.

  He fed on her more intensely, as if she was merely begging for more contact with his cruel mouth.

  Ashe twisted her fingers into the sheets, trying to anchor herself to reality as the pleasure lifted her higher and higher.

  When she was very sure she would die if he did not break the shimmering tension, he eased a thick finger just inside her.

  “Ohh,” she moaned as he flicked his tongue against her frenziedly.

  Ashe exploded, and the colors danced inside her mind, purples and blues of the mountain and sky, and deep forest greens. Pleasure coursed through her like the river.

  Then Varik was crawling up to her, caging her head in his arms, pressing his forehead to hers.

  “Ashe, I need you,” he murmured.

  She wrapped her thighs around his hips, pulling him closer.

  He kissed her first, his mouth still flavored with her pleasure.

  Then she felt him guiding his rigid length against her opening.

  The pleasure was rising in her again. She sank her nails into his biceps, ready for pain if it meant she would taste sweet ecstasy again.

  Varik groaned and eased himself slowly inside.

  She felt a tug of pinching pain followed by a wave of need.

  She jogged her hips up, urging him on.

  “Easy,” he murmured, slowly withdrawing.

  When he thrust into her again, she saw stars.

  “Gods,” he groaned, trembling with tension.

  She could feel his resolve to go slowly, even as she wanted to cry with frustration.

  “Please,” she moaned.

  He thrust again, filling her body even as he filled her mind with thoughts of Faerie and her heart with…

  “Ashe,” he cried, thrusting faster now, giving in to the need that carried them both.

  She clung to him, following him to his ecstasy.

  He slid his hand between them and massaged her stiff little bud as he thrust.

  Instantly, Ashe felt herself splintering into bright pieces. She cried out, helpless with the pleasure.

  Then he was exploding along with her, jetting his seed deep inside as he called out her name brokenly in the rough voice she had come to love.

  He collapsed on her chest as the ripples of pleasure subsided.

  She wrapped her arms around him, soaking in his heat and the delicious weight of him, nuzzling his hair.

  “Ashe,” he whispered, as if her name were a prayer.

  She knew she should wonder what these feelings meant. What could the future possibly hold for a mortal changeling and the fae bounty hunter tasked with bringing her back to Faerie?

  She had no idea.

  But in his arms, she felt secure. And sleep took her before the worries of her mind could disturb her happy heart.

  11

  Varik

  Varik awoke to the smell of coffee.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” Ashe said from the kitchen. Her hair was wet from a recent shower, and she looked radiant.

  “Are you making coffee?” he asked.

  “I figured it out,” she told him.

  “Impressive,” he said.

  “I used the telephone to research it,” she said proudly.

  He threw his head back and laughed.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I’m just happy,” he told her, realizing he meant it.

  “Well, get ready for breakfast,” she told him. “I’m sure there’s something nice here that we can fix to eat.”

  Varik stretched and hopped out of bed, loving the way she tried not to stare.

  Years of running and training had made his body hard and strong. He was glad if she liked the look of it. He would use it to protect her and pleasure her for the rest of her life.

  “Where’s Ronan?” he asked, knowing the pup would need a morning outing, and surprised he wasn’t already capering around to ask for it.

  “Napping,” she laughed, pointing at the sleepy pup curled up on the rug under the table. “I took him out when I got up.”

  “That’s really nice,” he told her.

  He headed for the bathroom, determined to take a shower before dragging her back to bed.

  A few minutes later, he emerged to find her digging through the refrigerator.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I’m having a hard time finding what I want,” she said.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Something sweet,” she said dreamily.

  Though she was biologically mortal, Ashe had been raised in Faerie. Of course she had a sweet tooth.

  “Sit and sip your coffee,” he told her, kissing her still-damp hair. “I’ll figure it out.”

  She sat at one of the stools with a mug of steaming brew.

  He looked through the fridge and realized she was right. There was only one egg, and no milk. Willow must have been in need of a trip to the store before she disappeared. He couldn’t make pancakes or waffles.

  A white box on the bottom shelf caught his eye.

  “Oh, how about this?” he asked, pulling it out and placing it on the counter between them.

  They studied the box. A hand drawing of a stone silo was emblazoned in the corner with the words Harkness Farms Bakery underneath and an address in nearby Tarker’s Hollow. A small window in the top of the box revealed some sort of pastry.

  “Yes,” Willow said.

  “We’ll need to go out and get more food after breakfast,” Varik suggested.

  He opened the box to find a fruit pie inside. He sliced them each a nice chunk. and put them on plates.

  “Gods,” Ashe murmured over her first bite. “This is unbelievable.”

  She wasn’t wrong. The apples were tart and sweet, almost like in Faerie. And the pastry was rich and flaky.

  “Can we go to this place after breakfast?” Ashe asked.

  “Sure,” he said. “A farm should have milk and eggs.”

  “And more pie,” Ashe said.

  “Or we can make our own if we get some apples,” he said.

  “That sounds nice,” she said.

  They finished their breakfast in happy silence.

  He knew he should talk with her about last night, and try to figure out what their life together would look like.

  But things seemed to be going so well. Maybe she had the right idea to just enjoy themselves for one morning without making things complicated.

  They had the rest of their lives to figure out the future.

  They both finished getting ready, then headed to the car.

  A short drive later they were parking under the sycamore trees in the gravel lot of Harkness Farms.

  “Wow, apple picking,” Ashe said. “Don’t they have servants for that?”

  He glanced over to see a wooden sign announcing that pick-your-own-apples season had begun.

  “In this world,” he explained carefully, “the beings are so removed from nature, that picking an apple seems like an exotic opportunity, not a chore.”

  She nodded, biting her lip.

  It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps the life of a Winter Court princess wasn’t so different. Ashe had probably done very little for herself in her time in Faerie.

  “Want to try it?” he offered.

  “Sure,” she said, with a big smile.

  They parked the car and walked over t
o the wooden sign.

  A woman with dark hair stood beside it, the tag on her shirt proclaiming her as Darcy Harkness.

  “Hi there,” she said. “Do you want to pick your own apples today?”

  “Yes,” Varik said.

  The woman called Darcy lifted her nose to the air briefly, then eyed Varik’s oversized satchel suspiciously.

  “I know what’s in there,” she said quietly, leaning in. “Are you sure you’re not here to see my mom?”

  Varik blinked at her. “Uh, no.”

  “Then keep it in the bag and do not go inside the shop or try to feed the deer with him like that,” Darcy said with a wink and a wolfish grin. “Otherwise, your secret is safe with me.”

  A brief flash of amber in her eyes told him all he needed to know. This woman was some kind of mortal wolf shifter.

  Gods above.

  Varik had heard the legends, but never met one of these shape-changers for himself.

  She must have sensed the ability in him somehow.

  The mortals shifted in a rough, biological way that included the melting and reshaping of bones and flesh that sometimes tore right through their clothing.

  Varik’s shifting was that of a fae lord - smooth and magical, with all of his belongings intact when he changed back.

  But rumor had it the end result was pretty much the same.

  Darcy had turned on her heel and was leading them toward a hay filled bed attached to a tractor.

  “Enjoy your ride,” she said, handing Ashe a basket. “And feel free to stop back for a run on the next full moon.”

  Varik nodded, and then helped Ashe onto the hayride.

  “What was that about?” Ashe asked. “And how did she know about Ronan being in your bag?”

  “It’s complicated,” he told her. “But there are magical beings in this world, too. And I’m getting the sense that the family who owns this farm might be an important one in this realm.”

  Ashe nodded, eyes wide.

  Another couple climbed aboard, followed by an older lady with two small children.

  They all smiled and nodded to each other in greeting.

  “Okay, here we go,” the teenager driving the tractor shouted happily.

  They took off with a bump that had Ashe clinging to him.

  Varik pulled her closer, willing himself not to react to her delicious scent. He would have taken her then and there, on the bed of hay, in front of the other guests, if he had thought there would be no consequences.

  But for now, he would keep his feelings in check.

  The morning was overcast so far, and mist clung to the gravel road and floated among the gnarled trees in the orchard, lending the farm an air of haunting beauty.

  “This looks almost like home,” Ashe murmured.

  She wasn’t wrong. There was something almost magical about this place.

  “Here we go,” the boy called out as he pulled the tractor up at the edge of a huge hillside of trees. “Climb down and choose a picker.”

  Varik and Ashe waited for the others to get out.

  When Ashe approached the steps, the boy reached out his hand to offer her help.

  Varik had to choke down a jealous growl at the sight.

  “I’m fine,” Ashe said brightly to the boy, as if she had sensed Varik’s unease.

  She got down without assistance, then allowed the teenager to show her the merits of various pickers.

  In truth, they were all merely little baskets on poles. And the trees were laden with fruit, so the quality of the picker wouldn’t matter anyway. But Varik enjoyed watching her solemn choice.

  He grabbed a pole for himself, and they set off into the mist together.

  The other two groups moved slowly and began picking close to where the truck was parked as Varik and Ashe continued farther into the orchard.

  After a few minutes, they were relatively alone.

  “Hang on,” Varik said, bending to let Ronan out of his satchel.

  The pup shook himself and trotted into the trees, one ear alert, the other flopping lazily.

  “Stay close,” Varik called to him.

  The pup slowed his walk but still disappeared a bit in the fog.

  “Is the veil thin here?” Ashe asked.

  “I don’t know,” Varik replied, but in truth he did feel the vestiges of magic here, as if his own world were just on the other side of the mist.

  “Oh, how about that one?” Ashe said, pointing out a particularly delicious looking apple.

  “Looks good,” he agreed. “Give it a try.”

  She used the picker to pluck it easily from its branch and then laughed in delight as she placed it in their basket.

  “You’re a natural,” he told her.

  “Am I allowed to eat it?” she asked.

  “We’re probably not supposed to before we’ve paid,” he guessed. “But I’m sure one won’t hurt.”

  She put it to her lips and took a bite.

  “So good,” she murmured, juice glistening on her lips.

  He stepped closer, then took her hand and stole a bite of the apple.

  It was crisp and sweet. It tasted like autumn.

  She tried to pull it back, but he pulled her close instead, pressing his lips to hers.

  The kiss was sweet and tart and sent shivers of need through him.

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

  She blinked up at him as if she were hypnotized and he kissed her again, slowly and thoroughly this time.

  She pressed her soft form close to his, driving him mad.

  He pulled back again to look around for a quiet place where he could take her. It was a big farm, surely, they could find a spot…

  Instead, he saw his breath plume in the air before him.

  “No,” he murmured.

  “What’s wrong?” Ashe asked.

  “Ronan,” he called for the pup, then turned back to Ashe. “We have to run. Now.”

  To her credit, she asked no questions, only looked up at him expectantly like a soldier waiting for orders.

  He had no idea which way the enemy was approaching from. But he knew he could not draw them closer to those poor families who had entered the orchard with them.

  He took Ashe’s hand and they ran deeper into the misty rows of trees. Ronan racing along at his heels.

  The mist seemed to be taking on substance. It felt like they were running through frozen cotton.

  A jolt of icy pain pierced Varik’s shoulder.

  He spun to face his adversary.

  A tiny, glowing figure pirouetted triumphantly in midair.

  “Ouch,” Ashe squealed from behind him.

  “Snow pixies,” he said, throwing her his jacket so that she could use it for cover.

  She swung it in a wide arc, managing to take out a cluster of the little bastards. She fell on top of them, trapping the wee beasties under his thick leather coat.

  “Nice,” he said.

  Another one bit his arm with teeth like tiny needles of ice.

  He turned and smacked it out of the air.

  Ronan trotted over to investigate, then howled in pain.

  Varik smacked two more down and grabbed their little bodies, wincing as they bit down on his fingers.

  Ronan had taken his own assailant into his mouth and was shaking it vigorously like a chew toy, as a tiny pixie scream issued from it.

  Another was already fleeing the scene, apparently realizing these victims fought back. But that wouldn’t do at all.

  “Catch them,” he called to Ashe. “Don’t let any of them get away, or they’ll report back to Faerie that they’ve found you.”

  He shoved his two into his satchel and came over to retrieve the ones she was holding under his jacket as she ran after the one that was trying to get away.

  They had six now, which meant there should only be the one left. Pixies typically gathered in sevens.

  He suffered a few more nasty little bites, but managed to shove the squir
ming half-dozen into his bag. As soon as they were secured, he sprang to his feet and took off in the direction Ashe had gone.

  He was awash in guilt. In part, it was the result of the pixies’ light venom, which could interfere with emotion in large doses.

  But he couldn’t believe he had allowed Ashe to be placed in such danger. On any other job, he’d have noticed them coming before they had a chance to do any harm.

  Ashe was just too distracting.

  He rounded a row of trees and nearly slammed into her in the freezing mist.

  Ashe stood in wait, feet shoulder width apart, dark hair streaming down her back. Ronan crouched at her heels, his little hackles raised.

  The remaining pixie turned and charged them.

  Ashe took a wild swing, but the creature ducked and hung in midair just out of her reach for an instant, then headed back for her.

  This time, she waited until the last possible moment and then smacked it hard enough that it squealed and swirled to the ground.

  Ronan snatched it up in his little jaws before she could retrieve it. He shook it vigorously, as if chastising it for its audacity.

  “Okay, buddy,” Varik said, kneeling to retrieve the errant pixie from his pup.

  Ronan surrendered it, but growled at it even as Varik shoved it deep into his bag.

  They were victorious, for now.

  But Varik knew this wouldn’t be the end of their troubles.

  12

  Ashe

  Ashe gazed at the scenery zipping past the window on the ride back to the apartment.

  Ronan was on guard in the back seat, growling at Varik’s pixie-filled satchel. Beside her, Varik thought out loud about what to do next.

  “If they sent pixies, they’re serious,” he mused. “This won’t be the end of it.”

  “Why would they send pixies when they already sent you?” Ashe asked.

  “Because they don’t trust me,” Varik said, his jaw tight.

  “Why not?” Ashe asked.

  He was quiet for a moment.

  “I’m the most sought-after bounty hunter in Faerie,” he said at last. “Why would it take me more than a few hours to retrieve a princess from the mortal realm when she doesn’t even have magic to defend herself?”

  Ashe nodded.