The Cursed Fae King: A Sexy Fantasy Romance Series (The Cursed Kingdoms Series Book 2)

by A. K. Koonce

  I lift the thin skirt of my gown to avoid dragging it as I walk. Trying to preserve their beauty as I soak in the details of the night. My wedding night.

  Stars wink at us from the sky like they knew that this would happen, just as it is, long before we did. A secret they didn’t share with the world. Perhaps it’s Goddess Nature or Goddess Celeste watching us from above. Maybe Goddess Celeste is waiting to end this curse as we speak.

  Miranda clears his throat, opening the book. The cover reads If You Give a Fae a Fig. Not the holy word of Goddess Celeste.

  He catches the furrow in my brow as I wonder why of all the books this is the one of his choosing. “Turns out you don’t need any particular book to perform the ceremony. This was the first thing I grabbed. Maybe you can borrow it later.”

  I somehow think the chaplain would have done this slightly differently.

  I smile and turn back to my soon-to-be husband. He waits patiently, holding out his hands for me to take.

  “Syren Stormson and Iri Hakan, we are gathered here tonight to bind in union as everlasting mates. Since it is the three of us, I’ll gladly skip the boring unnecessary bits and get straight to the point.” Every now and then, Miranda glances at the book like he is reading from a script that isn’t there. “Iri, do you promise to bleed for Syren?”

  Blood, because it’s vital for living and it contains the tiniest ounce of magic—it contains a bit of your soul—is exchanged in the binding process.

  It’s the ultimate magic.

  After tonight, nothing will be the same.

  “Yes.” Bear says. He extends his hand and Miranda pulls a knife from his hip. The blade slices swiftly along Bear’s palm. Silver pools there.

  “Syren, do you promise to bleed for Iri?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. My hand lifts, and I don’t look at him as pain skims over my flesh. Warmth slips through my fingertips.

  And I smile up at the man staring at me like he’s lost in everything that’s happening. It really is happening.

  “Please exchange blood.” Miranda bobs on his toes.

  Iri takes his hand first and dips his index finger into the silver. He then runs his finger over my bottom lip then holds his hand out, palm up. Following behind him, I trail blood over his mouth, watching it seep into the fine creases of his lips.

  I take his hand in mine.

  A tingling sensation starts where our palms meet, trailing through our veins and traveling to every extremity. Bear shuffles, his breathing becoming faster, shallower breaths. My hand lingers in his, and he holds it tightly, just as our wounds heal as if nothing ever happened.

  But a part of me will always be with him now.

  And I’ll forever have a piece of him. Our magic will be tied as one for the rest of our days.

  I more than love him.

  I am his and he is mine.

  “That’s it.” Miranda claps the book closed. “You may now fucking kiss the hell out of your wife.”

  “Language,” Bear says, though the sternness in his voice doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Really?” Miranda rolls his eyes. “She’s getting married in her pajamas, we did a half-assed ceremony in the middle of nowhere, and you’re worried about me cursing? Did you hear that bit about goat fucking?”

  I laugh because he is right. Bear shrugs and laughs quietly, too. The tingle of our bond leaves my lips feeling numb. But King Iri doesn’t waste a second more as he cuts off the laughter by sealing a kiss to my lips.

  It tastes like the tang of iron, and it sets my whole body on fire.

  Eighteen

  The Curse of a Curse

  Syren

  This smile hasn’t faded from my face all night. I run my hand up over his smooth chest, and then up and over his shoulders. I stretch on my tip-toes and press a kiss to the start of a scar. Then I let my hands roam down over his back just to feel them.

  “Syren,” he says like a plea. But I’m not sure if he is begging me to stop or to continue with each slow drift of my hand against his body.

  Traveling ever so slowly, my fingers make their way to his jaw. I cradle his face and turn his gaze so he can only look at me. I lean up and tilt my head toward his.

  Bear stills with the exception of his ragged breathing and lets me brush my lips against his. I taste him slowly. His eyes flutter closed as if he doesn’t believe that I would willingly let him touch me again. But I am, and I want to, more than I can express.

  There is so much bad in Bear. A rough past and the weight of many cruel decisions resting upon his muscular shoulders. But through that, more importantly than that, there is also good in him. There is so much loyalty and passion in him. Even if he isn’t the best at sharing it with the world. I’ll scream all of his good qualities from the top of every roof until the world knows that he isn’t the monster I once thought he was.

  His arms find their way around me, lowering me carefully to the pillows scattered across the ground. My white nightdress fans out against the cozy hideaway. Waves crash in the distance. The sound of the ocean mirrors my heartbeat in this moment. Everything beneath me is cushioned and soft while everything about Bear is solid and blatantly hot.

  As his tongue slides between my parted lips, I can’t help but think of how he tastes like the fresh Northern Kingdom air that would blow through my cracked windows at night. Like white starlight, ash, and untamed flames.

  His hand explores the smooth expanse of my thigh. Higher, his palm grazes along my curves. My hips. My stomach. My breast. He breaks the kiss just long enough to pull the thin nightgown away entirely before deepening the kiss even more. With both hands, I pull him close to me, craving to feel every inch of him pressing against me. Everything inside me wants to shove away any air between us, to remove the unwanted space. Every little crack of air that comes between us is too much space and not enough of him.

  Slowly, his mouth moves from my lips, placing nipping kisses against my throat. His tongue lashes out, tasting me after each sensual kiss. It’s the most intimate way he has ever kissed me, and somehow it is also the most intense.

  Lust and desire course through me, settling deep in my core and escaping my mouth in a quiet moan. Bear pauses, smiling against my skin.

  “I love all the little sounds you make.” His rough fingers toy with me here and there. He makes a path down my body, watching his fingers ghost along my skin. A shiver of a breath stutters over my lips as his blazing touch skims ever-so-lightly over my nipple.

  His palm glides lower.

  And lower.

  And lower.

  I can barely remember how to breathe. Every motion he makes is confident and full of thought. He knows exactly how he plans to make me purr with pleasure. The idea instantly makes me wet.

  Bear dares a glance at me, full of pleading want and seduction. He doesn’t need to seduce me, though. I am bound to be his, desperate to be his.

  I rake my teeth over my bottom lip to keep from moaning loudly as his thumbs draw perfect circles higher up my thighs. Two fingers follow along the edge of my panties. My breath catches in my throat.

  His tongue slides slowly across his lips.

  I don’t know if he’s asking right now, but it feels like he’s asking.

  I nod so hard my teeth rattle.

  Bear lets out a short breath of laughter. His finger draws a trail over my panties. Just one, before he hooks his fingers into the material and drags it down my legs. I kick the traitorous panties away.

  Warmth slides up my body as he teasingly touches me in long lines up my legs, drawing them with his blazing hands up to my breasts. I find ways to touch him, too. Letting my hands explore against the scars on his shoulders, the muscles on his chest, and every ab that takes me lower.

  His lips find mine again, and all I can hear is the beating of my own heart echoing in my ears. Heat scorches my fingertips as I fumble with the buttons of his pants. I shove them down, and the moment my palm meets smooth skin, it stings my fingertips.
<
br />   “Ouch.” I hiss, pulling away.

  “I’m sorry.” Bear leans down, resting his forehead against me, catching his breath. “I can’t always control how hot my body gets. Not when you’re this close” His throat bobs as he swallows.

  “That’s a little bit terrifying. Maybe that’s something you could have mentioned the first time . . .” My lips tilt with a slow smile, and I hesitantly run my fingers down his thick shaft.

  Whatever remark was against his lips dies as he releases a pent-up breath that fans against my throat.

  Without bothering to respond, we collide somehow more eagerly now. Rushing, biting kisses and bodies pressing together tightly.

  Fire sparks in the air between us. Water sprays across our tangled bodies. Everything collides in a chaotic clash of magic and desire.

  My wrist rolls and his kisses slow as my hand slips between us and stokes against his cock.

  A growl vibrates through his chest. With his knees, he nudges my legs wider, lowering himself over me, and pressing kiss after kiss against my neck. I arch into every lashing heat of his breath.

  He tilts his hips into me pressing against my slickness until I’m begging with a whimper in want. His tongue slides lower, and he covers my breast ever so slowly, sucking hard before raking his teeth over the sensitive mound.

  A moan rips from my throat, and it only makes him do it again and again. My hand slips away from him, and the moment it does, his length slides against my folds. He grinds himself against my sex as his mouth sears heat over my nipple.

  My spine arches off the ground, and I need him in this moment more than I need to be tethered to this world.

  His lips slam to mine at the same time as the tip of his cock glides lower. And then he slams into me just right.

  My teeth dig into my lip to keep from moaning uncontrollably. Tilting and grinding my hips, I meet his pace. It’s like our mind, body, and soul are wound together, moving as one. He knows just how to touch me, just how to drive my release to the point of breaking before bringing it down little by little until I’m begging his name to the night like an offering.

  But he never stops.

  Lines along his back dip in ragged scars, my fingers gently tracing every one of them, wishing to mend them to unflawed skin. Wishing I could take away all his pain.

  Bear presses a kiss against my shoulder, flicking his tongue against the spot, and then immediately after, biting there hard enough to send pain and pleasure diving right through me. Fiery hot pleasure runs straight to my core. Unable to keep myself together anymore, I cry out as he thrusts harder and harder.

  I let myself fall away, far away, until all that is left of me is my bare soul. Every stain on my spirit and every piece of myself that I never felt measured up to the title I’ve been given somehow aligns with Bear. Aching and waiting, our minds become a tangle of our strengths covering the other’s weakness, making every kiss feel like a dressing on all of our open wounds.

  My eyes clench closed as stars soar behind my lids, and they tingle through every single part of me. Every cell within me burns for my cruel, sinful king. Bear thrusts into me with a groan of pleasure, his body tensing before he relaxes into my trembling embrace.

  I love you, my queen. His voice echoes through my thoughts.

  My eyes open, wide with realization. Only true mates can have that deep of a connection. Maybe Goddess Celeste had truly made us to be together. Maybe the curse was real, and I was wrong.

  I was blinded by anger and hurt. Too prideful to admit that Iri Hakan is indeed my fated mate.

  I tried to tell you. Iri smirks, brushing his fingers over my hairline.

  Arrogant asshole. I cover my face, peeking through the small cracks between my fingers, hiding the cherry red blush forming on the apples of my cheeks.

  Bear rolls to my side, taking his time, letting his gaze wander over my freshly fucked body. His finger trails over the bite mark on my shoulder, along the peak of my breast, across my stomach, and down the side of my thigh. He slows near my sex. An errant thought of starting what we just finished all over again rings through my mind. Though it isn’t my thought.

  This mind connection thing is going to take some getting used to.

  What? You don’t like me in your head? Bear arches an eyebrow but looks off toward the crashing waves instead of toward me, his fingers drawing absent swirls and unidentifiable shapes against the flesh on my thigh.

  I barely like having me in my own head, much less the surprise of a cursed wicked king. Somehow, he managed to steal my heart. How on earth did he also get to steal my mind?

  We’ll see how this goes. Because I know I can kick him out of my headspace if I want to. It would take some practice to build up my mental strength, but I could close the door and lock it if I wanted to. You might be the one who wants to kick me out, I say into his mind. I can’t promise I’ll keep my perverted dirty little thoughts to myself.

  This sounds more like you’re inviting me to a party then trying to scare me away, Syren.

  I smile at him.

  Bear radiates so much heat, even the bitter wind off the shore doesn’t make me shiver. His big arm slides over my cool skin.

  I lay back onto a pillow, watching the clouds drift through the night sky. Everything is bliss. Everything is perfect.

  Unless we’re still cursed.

  Nineteen

  Yellow Flowers

  Syren

  Mind connection is a funny little thing. The next day, I practice closing Bear out throughout my morning at the castle. Each time getting a little closer but never fully succeeding. Every time I get close, I can feel Bear roll his eyes. Which is the funny part, because he doesn’t physically roll his eyes. At least, I hope not, since he has been meeting with Mathis, Donovan’s replacement, all morning.

  The capital is being held together by threads, by the sound of it. Enemies are lining up at our borders to take us while we are weak. Turns out there are bonuses to being in King Iri’s head. I’m much more in the know now.

  Will Bear try to shut me out of his head, too? I try to calm the panic beat of my heart at the thought.

  I will never shut you out, my queen. A whispered thought.

  I shiver hard every time he calls me that. Why does it feel like a kinky pet name instead of a respectful title?

  I shake the thought away, but I don’t slow the pace of my walk down the quiet halls to the gardens. Today, I’m forced to spend time with my non-poison-dealer lady in waiting, Aisha and pick flowers for my upcoming “wedding.”

  Bear really did mean business when he told Aisha not to continue our research. It’s been on my mind nonstop but she hasn’t mentioned the flowers once.

  And Bear and I haven't spoken a word of our secret marriage. I especially don’t want to be the one to tell the ex-fiancé that her one-and-only true love married me. We could save that for another day.

  A distant chuckle in the back of my mind tells me Bear is keeping tabs on me today. Though I’m keeping tabs on him, too, as he takes in information.

  Guards still follow me, close on my heels. Their armor is an annoying shuffle that repeatedly grates against my nerves.

  I don’t know why you send half the castle staff to follow me around when you know very well I can defend myself.

  Another eye roll. I’ll send for them shortly if you promise to behave.

  And if I don't, does that mean that I’ve earned myself a spanking?

  Bear doesn’t immediately respond, but I can feel the shift in his mind. The moment he goes from focusing on what I’m speaking of to letting his thoughts wander between images of the night before.

  Yes, my queen.

  Another shiver.

  Arousal settles low in my stomach. Lustful images flash between our minds. My thoughts drift to the way his palms looked so large covering my naked skin.

  In return, I catch a glimpse of his flashing thoughts of him above me, pounding into me harder and harder.

  I blow
out a long slow breath as I force myself to focus on the white flowers surrounding me.

  This is a dangerous game.

  The sweet perfume of the multitude of flowers fills the air around me. The sun shines only briefly in between large drifting clouds.

  Aisha is already fluttering around the garden, a tired gray dress covered with an apron dotted with mud clinging to her. Even in her least-expensive garments with her hair knotted and her eyes a sleepless red, Aisha is somehow always the prettiest woman in the room. If only she could be as kind as she is pretty.

  At the loud clank of the guards stopping to stand at attention, Aisha looks up. She squints at me as if she is trying to figure out who exactly I am. I wave slowly.

  “You look healthy,” Aisha says, without hiding her disappointment.

  “And you look like you got in a fight. Your bags under your eyes are so bad it looks like they must have won,” I point out.

  “King Iri wasn’t here again last night,” she says bitterly. “I couldn’t sleep.” Her eyes widen her gaze, distracted and distant as she looks past me, whispering so quietly I hardly catch her words. “I couldn’t find him. I can never find him.”

  Alert, alert. King Iri, you have a stalker on your hands.

  He doesn’t respond, his thoughts focused on the discussion of his current meeting. I suppose I can’t have his complete attention all the time. But I hate for him to miss out on such good jokes.

  One of my guards clears his throat. When I look back, he gives me a bow and ushers the small army away from the garden. Thank the Goddess, Bear actually called them off.

  “You know he is a big boy; you don’t need to babysit him.” I brush my fingers over the red petals of a nearby flower.

  “He is so busy looking over this kingdom and babysitting you that he doesn’t bother to look after himself. Someone has to be there for him,” Aisha says viciously. Her face twists, her canines visible through her nasty snarl.

  I watch her in horror for a moment before her features smooth over and her cheeks grow rosy. Hiding behind her hands, she drags them over her face, saying sweetly, “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what came over me.”