by Lexi C. Foss
“I’m sorry.” He reaches up and strokes my hair.
“It’s fine.” I can’t push him away, but would I? My breath hitches as he leans close, his eyes holding me in place almost as much as the venom. I don’t want to want him. But I do. Ancestors help me, I can’t be falling for a high fae I just met in the wilds of winter. It’s not possible. But as I look into his dark eyes, so full of warmth, hope, and life, I find myself on the cusp of something. Something that could consume me like a rising blaze.
“There is still magic, beautiful Ilsa.” His lips brush against mine. “And I will prove to you there are still happily ever afters.”
12
Darynder
She stirs when the sun pushes through the slats of the hut. “Darynder?”
I smile. My mate speaks my name on her first breath of the day.
“I need to pee.” She rolls over.
“Good morning.” I smile down at her. “How are you feeling?”
She sits up and shakes her head, then feels down her body with her hands. “I’m here.” She waggles her toes beneath the blanket. “Everything is accounted for.”
“I’m glad.” I pour her some water while she goes out to handle her mortal needs. I’d stayed awake for a long while after she drifted off. I was too worried about the paralysis to do anything except hold her and watch her breathe. When she started having a dream and kicking her feet like she was running, only then did I know she’d make a full recovery.
She returns quickly, her teeth clacking, and I pull her into my arms and wrap the blankets around her. “Unnecessary coddling,” she chides but snuggles closer to my chest.
“Taking care of my mate is completely necessary.” I inhale the scent of her hair.
She sighs. “That’s not a thing. I’m not your mate. You repeating it doesn’t make it true.”
“I know. But the bond we share does make it true.” I kiss the spot right below her ear. Somehow, in the faint link I have to her, I know that’s the spot that will drive her wild.
She shivers and tries to lean away, but I keep her tight against me.
“It’s okay to be unsure,” I whisper into her rounded ear. “But when I claim you, everything will snap into place.”
She snorts. “You just want to snap your cock into my pus—”
“Morning.” Ferramus doesn’t knock as he enters. “Sun’s up. Safe to travel.” He holds up a rough leather bag. “As a thanks for getting rid of the screamers, if you get my meaning.” He sits the bag on the small table by the door. “I’ll bring the unicorns around.” He peers at Ilsa, then smiles, which is perhaps one of the ugliest looks he’s worn yet. “My elixir fixed you right up. I knew it would.”
“Thank you.” She gives him a nod. “And I never turn down free food.” Her gaze strays to the bag.
“It’s not much, but we’re happy to share it with you.” His gaze flicks to me. “If you could tell the lords at the High Mountain you were treated well, that’d be lovely.”
“I’ll tell the king personally.” I give him my word.
Ferramus perks up even more, then bustles out of the hut like the most important fae in the kingdom.
“Laying it on thick, aren’t we?” Ilsa peers up at me.
“I told the truth. He showed us hospitality, and I think the king would like to see that rewarded.” I stand and put her on her feet. “Let’s breakfast and get going.” I glance at the cot. “Unless you’d like me to prove our bond to you right now on that be—”
“I’m good.” She plops back down and scoops up a piece of bread and some cheese.
My feral sharpens its claws on the inside of my chest. Impatient. Desperate to claim her. But I have to be smart. My changeling is wily and unsure. I must convince her that I’m worthy of her, and most importantly, I must show her that we are fated, and nothing can tear us apart.
When we hear the unicorns grumbling outside, I pack what’s left of our morning meal and step out into the bright day. The sun is still low on the horizon and casts long shadows on the snowy ground.
“Freezing my balls off out here.” My unicorn stamps his hooves.
“Then let’s get moving.” I lift Ilsa onto her mount, then climb up beside her.
“Second peak to the right. Steady on all day.” She lightly pokes her heels in, and the unicorn plunges through the snowy bank ahead and maneuvers onto the road.
Ferramus flies beside us as we start our journey. “Stay to the lane for as far as you can. It’s not warded, exactly, but it has more protection than wandering off in the trees, if you take my meaning. Oh, and if you see an ogre, best make some fire. They hate fire. And they love the taste of changelings, so keep an eye on that.”
“I can keep an eye on myself.” Ilsa shoots him a pert look.
“I know. I saw you with the redcap. But you’re small. Lord Darynder is a large fae with a powerful need to protect his mate.”
I don’t see her roll her eyes, but I can feel it. My feral objects to her denial, but I keep silent.
“The road, yes, keep to it. And if you happen back this way, you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you like.” He stops at the edge of the village, his icy wings flapping in quick bursts. “And don’t forget to tell the king, you follow?”
“You have my word.” The magic sizzles between us, and Ferramus seems appeased. He waves as we break into a trot along the snowy road, the trees already closing in on either side.
Ilsa’s cloak keeps her warm, but I wish she’d ride with me. I’d wrap her in my arms and pile my warmest furs on her. The same furs I intend to lay her down on for our claiming. Marking her will be the best moment of my life. I can already feel it.
“Tell me about the High Mountain. I’ve never been to the winter king’s castle.” She turns to me as we slow down a little, keeping a steady pace so the unicorns won’t fade too soon.
“It’s beautiful atop the mountain. Dark stone and peaks of snow and ice. A wood at the back, a sheer cliff on two sides. Only one entrance. It’s a tactical dream for those inside, a nightmare for anyone seeking to lay siege.”
“Did you grow up there?” When she turns those inquisitive blue eyes on me, I feel compelled to answer. To tell her everything about me, about my past. But I have to be careful.
“I grew up in Cold Comfort, for the most part, the city that spreads out at the base of the High Mountain. But I spent some time at court when the old king ruled.”
“He was kind of, you know—” She shrugs. “A bad guy, right?”
I nod. “He was evil incarnate.” I hate the word, but I say it anyway. “Unseelie.”
Even she, a mostly mortal, winces. “Yeah, I heard tales about him. Necromancers are always nasty pieces of work.”
“My parents were loyal to him. And then, when the war ended and a new king reigned, they pledged their fealty to his rule.”
“Leander. He’s not so bad.”
“He’s fair.” I reach over and pull her cloak closer around her throat.
She smirks but doesn’t smack my hand away, so I feel I’ve won a small battle. “Are your parents still in Cold Comfort, then? Waiting for you to come back? Wait.” She cocks her head to the side in an adorable manner. “You never gave me a decent explanation of why you’re up here in the Wyvern Range. You distracted me with your … your—” Her gaze strays to my chest, then lower. “Your kitty cat form.”
I bark a laugh. “Was that the distraction?”
This time I see the eye roll.
I shrug. “I have business that took me north. Fortuitous business, as it turns out, because now I’ve found my mate.”
“Who uses the word ‘fortuitous’?” she mumbles and shakes her head. “What business do you have?”
“I’ve answered plenty. Now it’s your turn. What of your parents? Do they wait for your return?”
She shakes her head. “No. I never met my father. My mother is a rolling stone.”
“I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with—”
>
“She gathers no moss, because she’s always on the move. From guy to guy, town to town, even country to country.”
“A wanderer.”
“Yep. Last I heard she’d wandered onto Antonio and moved to Mexico. Haven’t seen her in years.” She says it with the same fluid flippancy as usual, but I can feel the hurt underneath.
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugs me off. “Anyway, I became a slayer, and now I have a whole family of sisters who take out vampires and save the world on occasion. It’s not a bad life.”
“And now you have a mate who will happily risk everything to prove our bond to you.”
“You always circle back around to that.” She harrumphs. “Get a new song.”
“You’re the only song I ever want to sing.”
She can’t hide the blush on her cheeks. My feral clicks its claws in anticipation. I’m melting her. One moment at a time, I’m destroying the ice around her heart. By the time we get to the cavern at the top of the second peak, I’ll have her marked and mated, mine for all to see.
13
Ilsa
It’s hot. So. Damn. Hot.
Darynder stretches as we make camp for a late lunch. His back is so wide, so muscled, so mouth-watering. In this icy grove piled high with snow, I feel like stripping out of my cloak and just letting the chill douse the heat between my thighs.
I’m just hard up, I tell myself. That’s all. A long dry spell. I mean, any female would lust after a fae like Darynder. He’s beautiful. A great fighter. An ice lynx. Trusted by the high king of winter. So damn noble. I lick my lips. I can look, after all, his back is to me. He doesn’t know I’m lusting after—
“Keep staring like that, my pretty Ilsa, and I’ll have you on your back before I’ve even started the fire.” His low growl does nothing to stop the desire welling in my belly.
Fuuuuuck. “Not staring. Just working on camp.” I swipe the back of my hand across my forehead and turn back to my unicorn. A glance up at the snowy peak tells me we’re getting closer. One more day’s ride and I’ll have my prey. But then I’ll have to leave Darynder. I’ll be done in the winter realm, done in Arin. I need to focus. Provisions. I’m getting provisions. Not worrying about what happens after. Not staring at the ridiculously hot fae who would make me scream if I just say the word. No. “Not staring,” I reassure myself, then raise my voice, “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” His voice is right behind me.
I whirl and come tits to abs with him. He stares down at me with ice lynx eyes, his fangs long and lethal.
“You’re um, you’re kind of feral right now.”
He leans close to me, so close that I feel the tip of his fang along my throat. “You’ve no idea.”
“We need a snack. Snacks. That’ll bring you down a notch.” I step back, but my unicorn doesn’t move. I bet the perv is enjoying this to no end.
“I definitely need a snack.” He tips my chin up and kisses me.
I can’t think, can barely breathe as he presses me against the unicorn, his hard body keeping me in place as his tongue sweeps against mine. I need to keep this professional. So … I wrap my arms around his neck and moan into his mouth. In a super professional way, mind you.
“My beloved,” he groans against my lips and kisses to my throat, his fangs glancing off my skin. “I need to be inside you.”
My knees go weak, but he keeps me up, held tightly against him as he kisses that perfect spot below my ear.
“I can scent your need, feel it through the bond. I can ease you, little one. Let me help you get rid of the ache.”
My eyes flutter closed as he pulls the cloak apart at my throat and places more kisses down my chest. Why is he so good at this? We stopped for lunch. For a break. Not for— Oh my god, he’s licking my nipple through my shirt.
“We can’t,” I breathe. “I’m on a mission. Sex is not included.” My mind makes me say the words, but my ladybits have entirely different ideas.
“Let me ease you.” He sucks me, the fabric of my shirt no defense against his tongue.
“What—”
His hand goes between my legs, and I moan. “Like this.” He rocks the heel of his palm against my clit and sucks my other nipple.
I dig my nails into his shoulders, my eyes falling closed as he works me. “This … Mmm … this escalated quickly.” I can barely get the words out, and then all thought leaves me as he strokes along the seam of my pants with two of his fingers before pinching my clit through the fabric. I rock my hips, fucking his hand like a shameless trollop. It feels so good, so damn right, that I think I’m losing my mind. And then I know I am, because I’m done for.
I come on a cry, and he whips his face to mine, his eyes on me as if he wants to watch every second of emotion on my face. I can’t hide from him, not when he just brought me to release with nothing more than his fingers over my pants.
He grins, his feline eyes drinking me in as I gulp in cold breaths of air. “Feeling better, mate?”
I want to say yes, that I’m done, that I’m glad we got that out of the way. But it’s not true. Not when I’m already thinking about his cock. About what it would feel like to ride it, to get all of him. Which is foolish, I remind myself. I’m a slayer. A killer. Not a lover. Not a mate.
“I can give you so much more. I can give you everything you need, Ilsa. All you have to do is ask.” He nips at my lips.
“Snacks. That’s what we need.” I put a hand to his chest and push him back, then a scream rips from me when I see what’s behind him.
14
Darynder
I whirl, and magic burns through me as I change into my feral form. With a roar, I charge the ogre. It swings its spiked club just as I jump, fangs bared. The impact knocks me out of the clearing, pain searing into my side. The unicorns stampede past, no loyalty whatsoever.
“Changeling meat is nice.” The low, ugly voice echoes through my mind as I struggle to get up.
“Cool. Here’s a thought. How about you start by eating my ass?” My mate is full of confidence. But the ogre is huge, hulking, and undoubtedly hungry.
“Come closer. I can smell lust on you. I want to devour it, salts the meat.”
“You come closer,” she taunts.
I watch as my beautiful mate circles the monster, her blade drawn as she moves with deadly purpose. The ogre dwarfs her, its shadow casting her in darkness as it lumbers closer. Naked and filthy, its stench chokes me as I struggle back to my feet. For the first time in my life, I feel the bite of the cold radiating up through my paws. I was so distracted by my mate. Cursing my foolishness, I drag myself back into the clearing.
“Stay back,” Ilsa hisses between her teeth, her eyes still on the ogre.
“I’ll feast on you, too, pussycat.” The ogre laughs, his yellow teeth crooked.
With a quickness that rivals fae, Ilsa launches herself at the ogre, her sword aimed at its throat. But the ogre sees her coming and swipes with one gigantic palm.
I roar and struggle to get closer as she drops to the frozen ground. Her arm shoots out, the sword glinting as she rolls away. He lifts a huge foot and tries to stomp her, but she dodges out of the way and gains her feet.
I lunge forward, and he turns to me. “Pathetic.” Rearing back with his cudgel, he aims right for me. Dodging as quickly as I can, I still take a blow to my back as I rush forward and latch my teeth into the ogre’s filthy leg.
He screeches and slams the cudgel down onto my back, then grabs my tail and rips me away from his leg, skin and blood coming with me as I snap my jaws, trying for another bite. He tosses me against a tree, and I hear several bones break as pain blooms fresh all over my body. My feral feels even more keenly than my fae form, and I know these injuries may be lethal. Even so, I fight back to my feet, stumbling toward my mate.
The ogre yells and comes for me again.
“Get back!” Ilsa cries as she throws herself between me and t
he monster. The Ancestors have graced me with a mate of bravery and strength. Even if I die here, I thank them for sending me a female of great worth.
The ogre swings, the spikes whistling through the frigid air.
“No!” I wrap her in my paws and fall onto my back, protecting her as the cudgel swings past over our heads.
Letting her get hurt isn’t an option, not when I can save her. I’ll happily go to the Glowing Lands if it means my Ilsa is safe and alive.
“I’ve got this, just—” She struggles, her small hands trying to peel my paws away. “Just let me handle—”
The monster laughs and rears back again as I roll on top of Ilsa, shielding her with my broken body.
“Run.” I can’t speak, but I send the word down the bond. “Run to the unicorns and ride to safety.”
The ogre takes a step closer, then his huge pockmarked face contorts. With a groan, he stumbles, then falls.
Ilsa wriggles out from beneath me as I try to blink away black spots in my vision. With a war cry that raises my hackles and sends heat swirling through my soul, she jumps astride the fallen ogre’s neck and hacks away at it.
I blink again and notice the blood. When she tried for his throat the first time, it was all a show. She went for the tendon at the back of his heel, slicing as she fell and rolled. My clever mate.
The tang of blood coats the air, and my eyes close just as I see my beloved’s final stroke that severs the ogre’s head from its body.
“What the shit, man?” Ilsa’s voice is close, warm, and covered in anger that hides fear. “You’re half dead.”
“Alive. Because of you.” I exhale, my mind clearing.