Sea Fae Trilogy

by C. N. Crawford

  I lifted my wineglass. “It’s like you can read my thoughts.”

  And here, without even realizing what she was doing, Richelle was divulging her fantasies to me.

  Aenor shifted in my lap, and I suddenly found it very hard to concentrate.

  Richelle was practically crawling over the throne to get in my lap, too. “Does she like the humiliation?”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Mmm… she does now. She despised me at first, but she came to lust for me over time. She hates herself for it, but she can’t help but beg for me.”

  Aenor draped an arm around my neck, and I felt strangely grateful that those wretches had given us the love potion. In her normal state of mind, she might have punched someone by now.

  Slowly, I stroked my hand over Aenor’s breast, and her back arched. She was nestling in closer to me, head leaning against mine. I slid one of my hands slowly up her thigh, and she gasped. With that little sound, it was as if the rest of the world faded away around us.

  Richelle cleared her throat. “Do you tie her up?”

  I smiled at her. “Yes. And if you are able to prove your power to me, I’ll introduce you to a world of pleasure you have never known before. We will enjoy ourselves, and I will teach you how, Richelle.”

  The Court of Silks had been denying themselves any sort of release for years. This place was like a volcano of sexual frustration, ready to erupt, and Lady Richelle hadn’t had a moment’s fun.

  Her fingertips were now gripping her knees, and her eyes shone with the wildfire of a fanatic. “Do you make her pleasure herself in front of you? Do you deny her release until she begs and pleads?”

  Lady Richelle, even as horrible as she was, had turned out to be full of wonderful ideas.

  I brushed my hand over Aenor’s breast, imagining that I had her tied up, spread out before me. That I was tracing my hand up and down her thighs and listening to her breathing. My heart raced, skin heating. “Yes, Richelle. She was once my enemy, so now my favorite is when she begs me. The sound of her utter desperation lets me know I’ve truly won.”

  I looked up at Aenor as I spoke, transfixed by her beauty. Her cheeks were pink, skin dewy. When she turned to look at me, her eyes bright, the world fell away. It was just Aenor and me, the beginning and the end.

  “Salem!” Lady Richelle’s voice was like a crow’s screech.

  I kept my eyes on the Maid of Night as she strained over the edge of the throne. “Yes, my lady?” I asked quietly.

  “What is it you want from me, exactly? I’m ready to make a bargain.”

  I couldn’t just come right out and ask for her to heal Aenor, or it would be obvious that I cared for her. I’d need to start with something else. Something she actually wanted, deep down. “If we marry, I will expect my new bride to submit to me sexually. You will be available whenever I want you. I will have ownership of your body for my pleasure, and I sometimes have depraved tastes.”

  It was exactly what she wanted to hear.

  Her cheeks went pink, and she started to fan herself. “That is quite the sacrifice,” she said. “I suppose, for the good of my people…”

  “But are you really as powerful as you claim? I do wonder.”

  Her lips tightened. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve had a hard time keeping your court fed and happy. It doesn’t speak well of your magic, does it?”

  “I’ve done better than anyone else could, given what I’ve had to deal with. The Mad King’s influence.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps,” I said. “But I think I’ll need you to prove it.”

  Her eyes brightened. “How?”

  I lifted one of Aenor’s arms, displaying the dark magic that snaked under her skin. “We could use this as a test. Try to heal this prisoner. This divine hex. Are you powerful enough to do that, to contend with the magic of a sea god?”

  Richelle’s mouth twitched. “I could certainly try. I could try to prove my power to you. That I’m worthy of being queen.”

  Hope ignited in my chest, but I wouldn’t let myself show it. Instead, I wore a mask of boredom and shrugged. “If you can.”

  “Hmmm.” Richelle leaned back in her throne, apparently considering this.

  I reached out for the wineglass, twirling it again and watching the torchlight glint off it, as though none of this really mattered—and yet every nerve in my body was sparking as I burned to hear the answer I wanted.

  My heart hammered hard in my chest as I awaited the verdict.

  Aenor

  With the love potion swirling through my blood, I had to work hard to focus.

  Salem put his wineglass down, and his hands on my body pulled my attention away from Richelle. Heat pulsed from his fingertips as he brushed them over my ribs, skimming just under my breast. It was like a light, excruciating sexual torture.

  I wanted to turn to straddle him. I probably would have, too, if there weren’t all these other people in the room.

  With another look down at my wrists—at the death winding beneath my skin—I let the dread snap me out of my haze.

  Richelle smoothed out her dress, her eyes looking feverish. Her jaw was clenched tight as she stared at me, lip curled in a little snarl. “Whore,” she said in a shaking, furious whisper.

  I stared at her, trying not to laugh in her face. I realized she was insulting me, but she was so pathetic that it was hard to even get worked up about it. She was what Gina would call thirsty as fuck, and it was driving the poor woman mad.

  She leaned back in her throne, trying to smooth out her dress again, like she was struggling for composure. “Before I try to heal your prisoner, I want to know what my role would be in this new kingdom.”

  Salem’s smile was pure seduction. “Well, that all depends on you, Richelle. As I said, I need a queen who is powerful. Demonstrate your power for me by healing this prisoner. And then we will discuss your role as queen.”

  Delight danced in Richelle’s eyes. She grinned broadly, probably imagining all the things Salem would do to her. Then she steepled her fingers, turning her attention to me again. “I need to know more before I begin. How did she become sick? I want to hear it in her own words.”

  Ah. Finally, I was being allowed to speak. There was every chance Richelle would be able to spot the subtle signs of deception, so I’d go with the truth as much as I could. “I made a bargain with the sea god. A sacrifice for power. And as it turned out, it was not a good bargain. The sea god wanted my life.”

  Lady Richelle narrowed her eyes. “Foolish. And now you have less power than you started with, am I right?”

  Under the haze of the love potion, anger simmered. “Yes, I have less power now.”

  “A divine hex is not easy to undo. Not easy at all. And why did you want power? You wanted to free yourself from Salem?”

  I forced myself to smile sweetly. “It was a silly idea.” Kill me.

  Richelle looked very pleased with this response, and she met Salem’s gaze again. “But you have a curse of your own, Salem.”

  Now, she had my interest.

  “I’m not worried about that anymore,” said Salem. “I’m in control of it.”

  Richelle lifted a finger to her lips. “But I can see the curse around you now. It’s still strong, ready to consume you. It’s growing stronger day by day, isn’t it? I’d heard that you’d overcome it. But I can see that that’s not the case at all. Did something happen to inflame it?”

  Salem shrugged slowly, but I could read the cold fury in his eyes. “As I said, I’ve learned to control it.” His voice had an edge that suggested—to the contrary—he was about to lose control.

  “It would be hard for you to rule as king with that curse. I remember what a monster it made you. A devil in a cave, burning, killing, taking whatever you wanted from anyone you wanted. And it’s burning you up again, isn’t it? You wouldn’t make a very good king with that driving you mad, would you? Even before the curse, you had a hard time trying to control yourself.�
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  I stole a glance at him and saw the fire rising behind his eyes. I was starting to get the sense that this didn’t seem to be going the way he wanted.

  “That was a long time ago, Lady Richelle,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet.

  “But a monarch is tied to his land. If you’re strong, the kingdom will grow strong. If you’re cursed, the kingdom will remain cursed. Now, Mag Mell withers because of Tethra’s illness. But what would happen with a cursed king? We could all burn. I can’t allow that to happen.” She tapped her fingernails on the arm of her throne, still leaning over toward him. “Once, you fell to Earth, a god crashing through the rocks, bereft of his soul. And then you fell a second time, becoming the worst sort of beast. That happened when you were banished from this kingdom.”

  Salem lifted his wineglass and twirled it in the torchlight, a hypnotic gesture. “As I said, Richelle”—his seductive voice cut through the air—“that was all a long time ago.”

  She cocked her head. “I will remove it, if the higher powers allow it. I will consult with them first, of course.”

  He let out a long sigh, and I sensed his body relaxing a little. Then he gave an easy shrug. “If it would make you feel better, Lady Richelle. I certainly don’t need it anymore.”

  “You once came to me, desperate to get rid of it. You didn’t want to be a beast anymore. You wanted to stop burning and killing.”

  I felt Salem’s muscles tense beneath me again. One of his hands was curled possessively around me. “I remember, yes.”

  “But at the time, you did not like my terms. You did not think me a fitting queen.”

  Those in the hall started to murmur. It felt like a dark miasma of menace was sliding over the room, slowly, like twilight shadows. Maybe it was my love potion wearing off, but the feel of the room seemed to have shifted into something colder, with a dangerous edge.

  “I didn’t want to marry at the time,” said Salem. “I hadn’t yet controlled the curse, remember? Marriage seemed a death sentence to me. Like being thrown in a well and covered with rocks. Things have changed. I’m a different man now, and I can see how a marriage could be pleasurable for both of us.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You thought being married to me would be like being stoned to death.”

  He took another sip of wine. “Not you in particular. The concept of marriage itself disturbed me at the time. It seemed like another curse. My feelings have changed. I can see we would enjoy each other, and the kingdom would thrive.”

  There was something cruel in her smile. “Of course. Of course you would fear marriage, after what happened.”

  What happened? My heart slammed against my ribs.

  Salem was still feigning boredom, his expression only half interested, but I could feel all his muscles rigid beneath me. “Oh. That.”

  I clenched my jaw, growing frustrated that this woman seemed to know more about Salem than I did. I felt left on the outside, in the shadows outside their kingdom.

  “So, what changed your mind?” asked Richelle.

  “I simply wanted my kingdom back.” He traced his fingertips down my side, and I shivered. “I don’t belong in exile, banished outside the city walls. Do you know what it’s like living outside of civilization, in the wastelands and the wilderness? Where the corpses of the cursed are left to rot? Where stinking fires burn eternally? I wandered barefoot over rocks, unable to remember words. And without words, there’s no meaning. Nothing”—he breathed in sharply—“means anything when you are cursed.”

  He was holding me tight, like he was desperate for something.

  “I belong here,” he continued. “My original home. I deserve a kingdom, don’t I? I was born to reign, and I want to rule again, with a powerful queen at my side. I want to stride through my kingdom with my subjects bowing before me. And why shouldn’t I have what I once possessed?”

  Her keen gaze bored into him, and her body went very still. “We shall see.” She flicked a hand at me. “Let me see if I can work any magic on this swan of yours before I make promises. I’ve never battled with the hex of the sea god before.”

  Richelle rose from her throne and came to stand before the obsidian throne, her lip curled a little with disgust as she daintily lifted my hands. She grabbed my wrists, pressing on them so hard that I knew she’d leave bruises. Closing her eyes, she began murmuring in the ancient fae language.

  With a rush of sea magic, Richelle’s spell began to work, tingling over my skin. It was a euphoric feeling, the tendrils of shimmering green that snaked around my arms. Slowly, the strength returned to my muscles. It was working!

  Gods, we had really done it. I was being healed. As I stared at my wrists, the magic under my skin began to roll back one millimeter at a time. Hope blossomed in my chest.

  The scent of the sea curled around me, and I felt some of my magic returning, wending its way through my body. Joy bubbled inside my chest. I had a fraction of my magic back already. Nowhere near the full amount, but just a glimmer of it—

  That was when Richelle dropped my wrists, and the healing stopped cold.

  Leaden disappointment pervaded my chest. “Why did you stop?” I asked. “That was working. I could feel it. But you only just started.”

  I was stepping out of character now, I knew. But panic was starting to pound in my skull.

  She wiped her hands off on her dress, looking disgusted. Her gaze was on Salem, not me. “Your whore is stronger than I imagined. As I restore her strength to her, I can feel it in my own body. Powerful. Magic flows both ways. This swan could be dangerous.”

  No. No. No.

  We’d been so close.

  Salem’s muscles stiffened, but he seemed to compose himself. “You don’t need to worry about that, Lady Richelle. She’s completely under my control. And you told me you were powerful. Is that not true?”

  Richelle took a step back, down the dais. “I’ve proved I’m powerful, haven’t I?” she snapped. “You heard what she said. I started to heal her.”

  So. Freaking. Close. Could we still bring this back?

  She pointed at Salem. “You’ve seen what I can do, Salem. I’ve proven that I’m powerful. But what about you and that curse of yours? You’re not proven. And this swan of yours is dangerous.” She took another step down, backing away from us.

  I opened my eyes wide, trying to convey a look that said, I’m dumb as a rock. “I’m not a danger to anyone.”

  Another step down. “That may be the case, but before we go on, I’m going to consult those more powerful than us. Then you’ll have your answer. Because this—everything that happens next—it’s more important than this little swan, isn’t it? It’s the future of our ancient kingdom. It’s the future of a paradise we could build together. I will not ruin it by acting hastily.”

  Salem’s body was heating beneath me. “Which higher powers, exactly?”

  “Don’t worry about that.” She waved a dismissive hand. “As I said, Salem, I want to speak to the higher powers about removing your curse. I will do that now, and I will ask about your swan at the same time. Then we will know everything, won’t we?”

  Lifting her skirts an inch off the ground, she turned and walked all the way down the steps, to the large pool of water in the center of the hall. Standing before it, she held her arms out to either side and began to chant in the fae language.

  I felt goosebumps rise on my skin, and a malign presence seemed to seep into the hall. Shadows and light played over the water. A cold wind rushed past, and Richelle’s body glowed with silvery magic. Her hair whipped around her head as she stood before the pool, her back arched as if in ecstasy, mouth open.

  The sound of her spells rose louder, echoing off the marble. Her palms opened, and white light beamed from them. Then she started to shimmer away, her body glittering, flickering as though it were moving in and out of this world.

  What higher powers? was a very good question.

  At last, the beaming white light faded fr
om her palms. Richelle let out a long, loud breath, almost a moan. She tilted her head and whirled back to us, catching her breath like she’d just had a good romp.

  “The higher powers have spoken, Salem. Two paths await you: you will either rule Mag Mell as king once more, or you will ascend to the heavens as a god. One of these is your destiny.”

  Gasps erupted in the hall. Salem’s secret was out, and no one had anticipated this.

  Aenor

  Salem let out a low chuckle. “The heavens? What would I do in the clouds? No one to fuck or kill? What a dreadful existence. No, of course I’d rather return here as king.”

  She smiled. “I agree. You belong here, my king. This is your first home.” She steepled her fingers before her lips. “But there is one problem.” Her gaze flitted between Salem and me. “Neither of those two destinies can happen as long as you are cursed. And I’m not inclined to heal your whore unless you are of value to me, as king.”

  I heard the breath catch in Salem’s throat. This was news to him.

  He couldn’t ascend.

  “So, remove the curse, Richelle. We are in agreement.” He kept his voice steady.

  She pouted. “But the higher powers won’t let me remove the curse until you’ve achieved another task first.”

  “Oh?” he asked sharply. “What task?”

  My heart was like thunder booming over the horizon. It was as if the room was holding its breath.

  “You need to find your mate.”

  Salem pulled me closer, nearly imperceptibly. “And what then?”

  She opened her palms to the ceiling. “Then you need to kill her. It is the only way you can be free to achieve your destiny. It seems you must pay for the things you did in the past, and this is your punishment. This is your reckoning.”

  The air left the room. Now, I felt as though I were standing on a razor-thin precipice, a shard of rock, abysses yawning on either side. Fall one way and Salem remained cursed, tethered to this world—descending into madness again, burning everyone around him.

  Fall the other way and Salem killed me.