Huntress: A Paranormal Romance

by Alexandra Christian

  “And you figure if you can beat Mab at her own game that she’ll yield and you can go home,” he murmured.

  “Tristan will try to use her abilities as a dragonslayer to destroy you,” she said, ignoring his grumbling. “To him, you are nothing but a monster, but the magic he will use will mark her for sacrifice. And then I will lose you both. Tread carefully and be kind.”

  “How can you be so certain she will be chosen?”

  “She has to be. The old magicks are clever, cleverer than Queen Mab. And everything depends on it.”

  Chapter Six

  Tristan was uncertain. It was a most unpleasant feeling that he had rarely experienced. The ancient wood rose up around him looking like the gnarled fingers of a giant, reaching up from beneath the earth. The Dark Wood was cursed, they said. All manner of creatures made their homes in the shadows of the petrified yews. Some that were not pleasant or even of this world. Time and space seemed to drift further away as one trod the Faerie road. He had often heard it said that The Veil here between worlds was thin, and a careless traveler might find himself trapped in the realm of the Fae, forever beholden to the queen, or perhaps even her slave. Tristan had heard these warnings since childhood, but he wasn’t about to let that deter him. He carried a bravery that was sometimes mistaken for foolishness, but it was obvious that he was going to have to prove his worth to his father. The dragon must be dealt with, and Queen Mab was the only one who might help.

  The young prince thought over Grafton’s words as he made his way down the serpentine path toward the center of the forest. “Go deep into the womb of the wood and find the sacred lake. Bathe in the cool water and be still. Mab will come to you, but stay sharp. Her pretty words will seduce you. She will fall on her knees and offer lascivious and forbidden favors. Do what you will, sire, but you must be away from the wood by the moonset. Once the moonlight disappears, you will be trapped in Faerie forever.”

  Over fallen branches and squishy ground and moss, he picked his way down the overgrown path in the failing light. And then he could see it. Illuminated in the moonlight was a break in the trees with a vast, silvery lake just beyond. Tristan was transfixed by the sparkles on the water that danced and winked like diamond dust on the surface. Forgetting all inhibition, he discarded his clothes in a flurry of linen and brocade, running toward the lake.

  As soon as he jumped into the cool water, he could feel that something had changed. All around him, the air was electric. He felt exhilarated and lustful. He could smell the spiced scent of jasmine and honeysuckle. The Fae Queen was indeed close, and he remembered Grafton’s words. His body was tense, the muscles in his belly and thighs hardening as his member dipped and bobbed below the water’s surface. Tristan dunked his head under the cool water then shook it out. He needed to get hold of his senses, or she had already defeated him.

  “What’s this?” A whispering voice rode on the night breeze. It was so airy that for a moment Tristan thought it might be his imagination playing tricks. “A young prince wandering in the forest.” He closed his eyes, almost feeling the breath on his throat.

  “I can hear you,” he called, feeling like an absolute fool. “Is that you, Mab? Whispering in the dark?”

  Laughter that began quiet and playful suddenly thundered in his ears and the forest all around him, scattering the sparrows that nested in the canopy above. Tristan steadied himself, determined not to be afraid. He said no more and began to swim. Gracefully he stretched, pushing the heavy water aside, letting the chill soothe the primal lust that sat heavy within him. He dove down deep, seeing how long he might hold his breath. And then, he noticed, hovering just above the surface, was a ball of light. He pulled himself higher, emerging into the Faerie light.

  It was blinding, the halo of light that radiated around the Faerie Queen. She was every bit as magnificent as the old tales told with her silvery hair and eyes of amethyst. How could any man, mortal or otherwise, resist her? “By the gods,” he murmured.

  This amused Mab, and she threw her head back, laughing at his uttered prayer. “Your gods have very little to do with it, prince. But thank you for your compliment.”

  She lowered herself to a branch that hung low over the water. When she reclined, the ends of her long hair made ripples along the water’s surface. Try as he might, Tristan could not help being fascinated by the beauty of her naked form. He could feel himself flushing with heat, and for a moment, he wanted to dive beneath the current once more to hide the lust blossoms on his cheeks. “What brings you to the sacred lake tonight, Prince Tristan? Do you have business with the Fae?”

  “How did you know my name?” he asked.

  She smiled, her red lips splitting her countenance in two. “You look like your father.”

  “You know my father?”

  “Of course. I have always known him. And when I say know, I mean that in every possible sense.”

  “So it is true what they say? That you take every human king as your lover?”

  “Not every,” Mab said. “Only those who amuse me. Something about the arrogance of a king of men entices me. I rather enjoy toying with them. Making them beg for my favor.” Reaching down, she picked up a water lily that was floating along the surface of the lake. She brought the flower to her lips and sipped at the sweet nectar caught inside. “Is that what you wish, prince? To win my favor?”

  Tristan scoffed. It was true that Mab was beautiful, but her conceit turned his stomach. A woman should be demure and submissive, bending to the will of her man in all matters. Mab was a plaything. Magical, yes, but no match for a king. He would let her think what she liked, but he would not hesitate to clip her wings if necessary. “Of course, my queen.”

  “And what do you bring in offering that pleases us?”

  “A promise,” Tristan said, swimming over to where Mab lay in the bough.

  She laughed again, her voice filling up the wood. “And what is that? The promise of a man? You’re very funny, prince.”

  “Perhaps, my queen. But one of your faithful servants assures me that this gift is of the highest value. The blood of young maidens is precious to the Fae, is it not?”

  Mab smiled. “You would sacrifice children to my court? Truly this favor must be of the utmost importance if you are willing to sacrifice innocents.”

  “A few peasant children or the blood of my entire kingdom?” Tristan said, his jaw tight with frustration. “If you refuse, my queen, I fear that my father will let us all die in the fires of the terrible wyrm!” Tristan hid his face in his hands, angry with himself that he had let his desperation show. He believed in the truth of Grafton’s words. The dragon would not be sated until all of the earth was burned to dust.

  “The wyrm. You seek my help with the dragon that lives deep within Gwynfir.” Mab sat up, a twist of her wrist making the bough bend and curl until she sat on a throne of gnarled wood. She pulled her knees up, resting her chin on them as she thought.

  Tristan rose, standing on the floor of the lake and walking toward the throne with his head down in reverence. “I was told that you had a connection to the dragons. That you could speak with them. If this is true, my ladyyou could tell me how to defeat it.” Leaning forward, he kissed the tops of her feet. He marveled at the sugary taste of her skin. Perhaps someday he might pull off her wings and put this fairy in a gilded cage by his bedside. “Once the dragon’s head is mounted in my throne room, I shall bring you one hundred maidens of the kingdom to use as you will.”

  Mab seemed to think this over. Her lips turned up at the corners in a devious smile. The vanity of the Fae must be true. “A dragon’s greatest weakness is his pride and avarice,” she began. “But the dragon you fear is no ordinary dragon.” Tristan nodded. “It is not an animal. It is a man cursed. Cursed by a Fae witch. His anger consumes him like the fire that he breathes.”

  “But why Osghast? What reason would this dragon have to raze my kingdom? Surely not some blood debt. Dragons have been driven from our realm for a
thousand years!”

  “Do you not know the reason, young prince?”

  Suddenly Mab burst into peals of tinkling laughter that made the wind in the trees blow, chilling him to the depths of his soul. Tristan got the distinct impression that Mab was laughing at him. He felt hot blossoms of embarrassment glowing in his cheeks, and he knelt beneath the water. “And just what is it I am supposed to know?” he asked, using a façade of anger to mask his humiliation.

  “Your father lost favor with someone of great power,” she replied, her voice suddenly stilling the trees. “There is a curse upon his house that will plague the land until it is set right.”

  “The dragon has been set upon us? By whom?”

  Mab chuckled once more and shook her head. “Foolish prince. A dragon is not an assassin that one can invoke like a dark spell. Especially not a dragon like Malik.”

  “It has a name?”

  “Of course. A creature so great is not some mindless serpent. You would do well not to underestimate him, prince. That is, if you want to stay alive.” Mab stroked the tip of her finger along the twisted coil of branch until the tree shifted shape once more, allowing her to slip into the water with Tristan. He watched with the lustful eyes of a lover as she swam toward him, her lean form cutting through the cool currents easily. She swirled around him like a curious fish, barely letting her body graze his. “He knows you well, my proud and foolish prince.”

  “The dragon? Knows me? How?”

  She offered a knowing smile, ducking under the water and slithering between his legs before breaking the surface in front of him. She was so close that he could feel the warmth of her body and smell the honeysuckle perfume of her skin. “He is your brother, of course,” Mab whispered, letting her lips caress the shell of his ear.

  “My brother?” he gasped. He threw his head back and laughed heartily. “You… you are very funny, my queen.”

  “You doubt the truth?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” he boomed. “I don’t have a brother.”

  “Things are not always what they seem,” Mab replied.

  Tristan narrowed his eyes, unable to speak. Could she really be saying this? The Fae had always called themselves friends to the Osghastian, but she must be in league with the dragon! His brother, indeed! “What proof do you have that this… creature is my brother?”

  “My servant watched him tumble from your mother’s womb!” Mab hissed. “His talons grabbed at her flesh and rended her from breast to sex. He tore her open and fought his way to the light in a spume of fire!”

  “I don’t understand.” Tristan’s voice stuck in his throat.

  “Silly boy. Malik is your twin, a son of Christophe. And he has just as much right to the throne as you.”

  Tristan felt the blood drain from his face. He could not have felt more frightened confronting the dragon itself. “This… this cannot be! I don’t believe you!” Suddenly he felt faint and began fighting his way back toward the shore, leaving Mab behind. He wished he’d never come. Damn that gypsy fool!

  “Running away doesn’t make it any less true, son of Christophe.” Tristan stopped, his fists clenched at his side. If fairies weren’t immortal, he’d liked to have wrung her skinny little throat. “Your father only wanted to produce an heir. But there was a terrible price, Tristan. The Fae witch…”

  “Fae witch? One of you?”

  “Of course. Who else would have the power to create such a thing? Christophe was careless, greedy for the gift of his Fae lover. He did not heed the witch, and it turned your brother into a terrible beast. He is a dragon, Tristan, but he lives. He is your blood and as such…” Mab paused, rising from the water. Tristan wasn’t sure, but as the moonlight filtered through the gloom, he thought he saw a secret, most devious smile. “As such, he has claim to the throne.”

  Tristan’s heart skipped a beat as he processed her words. She was right. A twin brother had just as much claim to the throne as he. Perhaps that was the beast’s motivation all along. To blot out his father’s line and take back Osghast as a Dragon Lord. He squeezed his eyes shut until white starbursts appeared behind the lids. He wanted to block out the evil sprite. “I do not share blood with a creature,” he growled, grabbing Mab’s wrist tightly. He wanted to twist it hard. He wanted to hurt her for spouting such lies! “My father was right!” he hissed. “Deceitful and cruel sprites!” He threw the fairy to the ground, kicking her aside. He reached for her once more, but when he touched her skin, it burned like fire, and she winked out in a wisp of firelight, only to reappear in the trees above him.

  “Do you think that snuffing me out will save you? Or your precious Osghast?” she hissed. “Malik will strike at your heart over and over until there is nothing left but desolation and filth! He has no mercy for your kind. He wants vengeance for the life that was taken from him! All his thoughts are set upon it. An unquenchable bloodthirst that blackens his heart. A thirst that makes him dangerous. Hard to kill.”

  She reached down, touching the surface of the water with the tips of her fingers. An image materialized just under the surface, the image of a woman, he thought, but he couldn’t make out the details from where he stood. “There is a child of Tarkin. A most accomplished dragonslayer...”

  “We’ve tried dragonslayers!” Tristan said.

  “But not this one. The Huntress they call her. They say that she can speak to the dragons in their own tongue. Only she will be cunning enough to slay Malik.” Tristan stepped forward, wanting to see the face of this magical creature that might save his kingdom, but as he approached, her image faded into speckles of moonshine on the water. “Find her.”

  “How?” Once more, he could feel his anger welling up, and he took a step backward. “Help me find her!”

  “Destiny is not some battering ram with which you might tear down the gates. The pieces will fall into place in good time. She will come to you. I have foreseen it.”

  “No!” he shouted, jerking his tunic from the ground at his feet. “I will not listen to all this rubbish about magic and destiny! A man makes his own destiny!”

  “The only way to save your kingdom is to destroy the dragon prince!” she shouted. “And the Huntress of Tarkin is the only one who can do it.”

  Tristan’s stomach rolled over. A woman! How dare this fairy suggest that a woman would be more capable of slaying a dragon than himself. Tristan wanted to assure his ascension to the throne. If he could kill the dragon, then the people would immediately call for his father’s retirement. “I will lure this beast to Osghast, straight into the heart of the kingdom. A maiden sacrifice like the days of old. A promised bride. But this time he will not find pleasures of the flesh or a love that will melt his black heart—there is only death for the Wyrm of Gwynfir! I will tear the beast’s heart out with my bare hands and devour it while it still beats!”

  “You’re a child,” Mab began, materializing at his side. “Strength cannot defeat him. Or your delusions of grandeur. There is magic afoot here that even you, with all your blustering and brawn can’t touch. The dragon is under the protection of a powerful fairy.”

  “What do you know about it?” he snapped. He rounded on the Fae Queen, a frightening fury burning in his eyes so strong that she took a step back. “This fairy bitch and her beast of hell murdered my mother, the queen. Now they seek to destroy my kingdom! There is no mercy or forgiveness for the likes of them.”

  Chapter Seven

  His form was pure shadow made of black smoke that curled and danced over her as he slowly materialized. He hovered there, letting her watch and wait, every second seeming to last longer than the one before.

  “Back again so soon?”

  “Always.” Thalia shuddered, peering into his eyes. They were like ice and fire: the cool blue of the mountain stream with flecks of flame that burned deep within their sockets.

  “Careful, little one. Retreating so far into one’s dreams is dangerous. You may not find your way out again.” The last time she had found
him, she had been desperate, ready to leave her world behind forever, and he had tried to push her away. But now that she was more at peace, he seemed calmer as well, teasing but welcoming again.

  “An eternity of sleep is not long enough to tremble in your presence, my lord.”

  “You find me a fearsome bedfellow, then?”

  “Shouldn’t I?”

  He laughed, a deep rumble that moved the ground beneath them. “You have nothing to fear from me, Thalia. You have great power, perhaps far greater than my own.” Suddenly he was a swirling column of smoke and shadow once more. She gasped, feeling as if ice crystals scraped at her skin as she sat up. Then he stood before her in the flesh again, draped in a black robe. The cloak cast a shadow over most of his face so that only the sharp angle of his nose and cheek were visible. His torso was bare, and the moonlight glimmered off his pale skin so brightly Thalia had to squint. Loose waves of jet black hair fell over his brow and down to his shoulders, hiding half of his face.

  “I would hardly liken myself to one so great. But my lord, why do you hide your face from me? We’ve met so many times, but I’ve never really seen your face.”

  “I fear that my countenance would frighten you.”

  “Never. You’ve always shown me kindness, prince. Why should I fear you now?”

  In a graceful movement, he dropped to one knee, taking her hand and pulling her close. The heat from his body was intense, and steam rose from his skin in thin plumes of ether. “Never fear me, Thalia. I am forever your servant.” His kiss, finally fulfilled, was searing. He tasted of ash and flame. It was a flavor that she knew she would savor well after the dream was done. It permeated her senses and filled her with more of that lust with which she had become so familiar. Before she knew it, she was opening her mouth, inviting him inside. He eagerly accepted with gentle swipes of his tongue against her lips and teeth. He took her breath away, and though she gasped, she would not break. Thalia wanted more of him. She breathed him in, taking his heat into herself. His arms enveloped her, the folds of his robe cloaking her in darkness and hiding them from the world.