by C. M. Owens
A sinking feeling collects in the pit of my stomach. “You’re Polly.”
She shudders. “You say my name like I’m some sort of villain. Your incubus is the villain, but I promise you and the royal family no one will lay a hand on him, and no bodily or mental harm will befall him.”
“Then why do you want him?” I ask suspiciously.
Slade huffs somewhere behind me, and Polly glances past me like she’s just noticed him. She visibly pales, even though it’s dark, and she drops her eyes like she’s submitting to an animal.
“Beggin’ your pardon, my lord,” she says to him. “I didn’t see you with the princess.”
“Obviously. Where’s the fucking incubus?”
She bristles, even though I think it’s to hide a terrified shudder. How does she know Slade? What has he done to her?
“He’s with my sisters,” she says again. “I promise to—”
“I’ve heard your promise already. We don’t have time to wait. There’s a war to return to.”
Her eyes come up and meet mine again, as though she sees me as her best option.
“I’ll give you a blood oath no harm will come to him. I wouldn’t make an enemy of the royal family, but the queen would allow his punishment. She has a sense of humor. So does Dice’s girlfriend.”
I…am so confused.
“You need to fix the land dispute, right?” she goes on hurriedly, like she thinks I’m hooked and now she’s reeling me in. “I can have them come to you, and you can handle—”
“You’ll give your blood oath to me, and you’ll handle the fucking land dispute yourself so the princess doesn’t have to stick around in a forest that has grown far more aggressive than my last visit,” Slade says, stepping in like the domineering asshole he is.
Her lip trembles, even as she tries to look unafraid. “Very well,” she answers without hesitation.
“You have four hours. Make it count. If the incubus isn’t back by then, I’ll come after you myself,” he adds.
She pales even more.
“Very well,” she answers hoarsely.
I’m too distracted to point out that I have more authority than Slade, because Slade lifts his finger, and a claw starts to grow. Something flames on the ground, a symbol of some sort.
Slade uses the tip of his claw to prick the tip of her index finger when she offers it to him. A single drop falls to his hand, and he lifts it to his lips and licks it.
Her eyes widen when mine do, because I’ve never seen a blood oath done this way.
“Tell me the truth, Polly.”
Her eyes dilate at his command, and my eyes narrow on him. This isn’t a blood oath. It’s a fucking—
“Did you know there was a Type A incubus in this forest?” he goes on, interrupting my thought.
“Absolutely not,” she says as her eyes round in confusion. “If I’d known, I would have alerted the royal family myself, and then my coven and I would have tried to kill him or weaken him before they arrived.”
Slade’s lips purse as he looks over at me. “She has no choice but to tell the truth, so she’s not lying.”
“You put her under a truth blood vow. That’s illegal,” I remind him.
“Yes. I know how diplomatic and politically correct you are,” he says on an exasperated breath. “Let’s skip to the part where you realize the damage is done. Ask her your questions, because the effects are very temporary.”
He turns and faces her again.
Polly looks to me as though she’s waiting. “What do you plan to do with Dice?” I groan.
“Cause him shame, since he can finally feel it,” she states flatly.
“O…kay… Because he broke up with you? Because that sounds extreme.”
She has no clue what a real monster ex is like if she’s this bent out of shape over—
“Several decades ago, he made me fall in love. Then he cheated on me with both of my sisters, and also charmed them enough to fall in love with him. I’m not seeking much. Just a bit of humiliation and shame, because he couldn’t feel shame before he had people in his life he truly cared about, aside from his psychotic mother.”
Damn.
My eyes flick to Slade, finding him bored with all of this, if his expression is telling.
“You’re not going to do anything…dirty, are you?” I ask warily.
“The incubus never crossed such a line. He charmed us—never forced or used his power to coerce us,” she answers immediately. “I can promise nothing of the like will happen to him. As I said, he will not be touched or harmed.”
“Will you tell me what you’re going to do with him?” I ask on a defeated breath.
“No, Your Grace.”
“She can refuse to answer. She just can’t lie,” Slade tells me when I look over at him to see if his illegal spell has worn off. “I’m curious why she’s being so lenient, since it’s clear she’s wanted this revenge for a while.”
“Because the incubus is no longer the same male,” Polly answers. “And because we’re loyal to the royal family—a family the incubus is a part of.”
Slade groans. “Why the hell are you loyal to them?”
Polly levels him with a glare. “Because the night stalkers picked us off without consequence. The lycans ransacked our homes and stole our precious things without consequence. There was no law—only a pecking order with a charade of a fair and just council for all sides. But they all feared war, so they did nothing as their people died, bled dry by those who would never suffer a just fate.”
She lowers her eyes when she looks back at me.
“Our queen restored law. She created these forests where my sisters and I have been able to restore ourselves from the dangerous world that once nearly drained us dry. Without this place, we’d be a shadow of our former selves.”
Slade looks confused as his eyes dart to mine. “Your mother fucking created this forest?”
“You really don’t know something for once?” I ask with a bit more bite than necessary.
Flicking my gaze back to Polly, I silently apologize to Dice, but he really does deserve a little shame. “Three hours. Not four. If he tells us he was tortured or harmed in any way, my mother will carry out her law.”
Taking her hand, I cast my own spell. A spell I know she feels and understands, given the expression in her eyes.
Her lips twitch. “Anything you say, Your Grace. You will be a fair queen one day,” is all she says before she disappears from sight.
Or a really stupid one with a list of regrets.
Slade starts to dematerialize, like he’s finally done with all this, and I take a seat, getting comfortable on the meadow’s grass just outside the wicked forest.
Immediately, Slade turns back solid and glares at me.
“What the hell are you doing? You heard her. It’ll be three hours.”
“And I’ll wait right here all three hours, because I hexed her. If at any time Dice is harmed, she’ll suffer triple the fate. The hex won’t lift until he’s back at my side. But I want to be close enough to hear screams, just in case I need to save him.”
He continues to glare as though my explanation is silly.
“If you can hex people that effectively, why the hell aren’t you doing it to Gavin, Morgana—or the fucking demon inside her—and giving them a fate just as fucking burdening?”
Rolling my eyes, I lie back, letting my eyes get heavy.
“That forest pumped my more dormant parts. It always does. It fuels my darker pieces because it was created by the darkest magic. My hexer abilities aren’t usually so powerful, and only if my adrenaline has been pushed to the maximum. As it has today. Besides, Polly isn’t as anywhere close to as powerful as anyone you just mentioned, which makes it almost effortless for me to hex her.”
Cursing, he takes a seat next to me, and I crack one eye open to look up at him. “No one is asking you to stay. Thank you for your help back there, even though you’re still a murderous psycho
path.”
He glares down at me, and I try not to smile.
It’s been a twisted fucking day like that.
“Why did your mother create that forest, and how did she do it during her short life without killing herself?” he asks, almost as though it pisses him off to have to.
“You really hate it when you don’t know something, don’t you?” I muse.
Our bodies are at least a foot apart, but it feels like he’s touching me. I’ve never been around him for this long, and now I’m starting to see why he’s made it a point to avoid me.
Because this is miserable.
It’s like everything on me wants to be touching him.
“Answer the question so I can leave,” he states flatly, eyes ahead as his jaw grinds.
My smile finally wavers as I study his profile.
“You always look so pissed. Back there when you said they’d want death if they’d been imprisoned for centuries to Jeremiah, were you talking about yourself?”
Those silver eyes cut to me, and for a brief second, I wonder if he’s about to finally rip my head off or just throttle me.
“We’re not having this conversation. You’re telling me about this forest, then I’m going.”
It really does drive him crazy when he doesn’t understand something…
I could use this to my advantage. One day. Not today.
And by advantage, I mean like in a battle with him. Nothing else. Nothing sexual. At all.
I need a drink.
I should just answer him so he’ll leave, and I have no idea why I’m trying to get him to stay.
“Let’s start small, Slade,” I say mockingly. “Tell me what it was like to be thrust into a century full of planes, trains, and automobiles.”
He gives me a wry look. “I was in a cage, but I still got worldly updates. Slaves of all ages were in those rings.”
Well, I didn’t think about that. Makes sense.
“Now ask me a small question.”
“How did your mother create that bloody forest?” he asks with a sardonic smirk.
“Technically, the forest was already there. She just made it haunted. And it only affects beings with power. It’s not interested in terrorizing humans.”
“That is an impossible spell on that massive of a level,” he argues. “What would be the point in making it ruthless?”
“That’s not a small question,” I say on a sigh, tsking him playfully.
He’s not really a playful kind of guy.
“Where did you learn how to close that portal?” he asks.
“Not at all a small thing.”
“How’d you sense me in that room before I let myself be seen?” he asks, surprising me.
Bristling, I shrug. I don’t want to tell him how much stronger this unnatural connection between us seems to be getting.
“I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not, and it wasn’t like an actual sensation or awareness or anything. I just questioned if maybe you were there. I think more than anything I’ve become reliant on your ability to find me anytime I need you.”
He just stares at me for a palpable moment.
“If I’ve not laid eyes on you physically for too long, the loop starts replaying,” he says quietly, and it almost feels like a confession. “I prefer the fucking loop, so I try to keep gaps of space and time between us, because you are so damn young and you keep getting yourself into traps.”
“I managed to get myself out of messes before you,” I point out.
“I’d like to know how the bloody hell you managed that, sometime.”
For a second, it almost sounds like a joke. But…does Slade even know how to joke?
At his blank expression, I decide he’s being serious. A why so serious Joker joke gets pushed way down, because I don’t think he would get it. And he’d stare at me the way he usually stares at Dice.
“Tell me why you killed the one man in this world who has hurt me, and I’ll give you the answer to the forest.”
He snorts derisively and gives me a pitying look. “You’ve romanticized it, haven’t you?” he asks, leaning forward, putting his face dangerously close to mine.
My eyes flick to his lips twice before I’m finally able to hold his gaze, and he looks terribly smug.
“You think I killed him because he broke your heart,” he says, moving even closer until I can feel the heat of his breath against the crease of my lips.
My lips part just barely, and his eyes flick down before meeting mine again.
“It would make sense,” I tell him, even though I’m feeling a little faint, almost as though not touching him when I’m so close is weakening me. “If you’ve been watching me even from behind the bars, then you’d know everything he did to me.”
In the next breath, he goes from beside me to on top of me, his hand on my throat just tight enough to let me know he could kill me in an instant, but not tight enough to hurt.
For whatever stupid reason, there’s a big part of me that knows he won’t hurt me. Like I said, it’s stupid.
His thumb slides down the front of my throat, and his face is inches from mine as he settles himself between my hips. My legs slide up, pressing against his sides, and he stares down at me like he wants to kill me and fuck me and can’t decide which way to go.
“You keep bringing that up. Who’ve you been talking to, Princess?” he asks softly, letting his lips brush mine. “Who knew I can do that?”
Just that ghost of a touch has electricity waking up every nerve on my body.
“How do you know things you shouldn’t know?” he asks again, his voice even quieter. “Can you see me too?”
“I can’t see you the way you see me. But I still know. I know you killed him because you watched what he did to me,” I go on, my voice a little firmer, but still as quiet as his.
“No,” he says, pulling his face back enough to where our eyes can meet again as the muscle along his jaw jumps with tension. “I didn’t. I killed him because I watched your life from eighteen until the day of my freedom on a loop. I watched him touch you over and over and over, because the story wouldn’t fast forward through that part.”
A breath hisses out of me when he puts more pressure on my throat, just shy of painful, as he bites out, “I watched him touch you, and I watched you beg for it. You let yourself be bonded, and you let him steal a piece of you that you’ll never get back. He destroyed you, and you let him because you’re weak.”
His grip loosens as he seems to give an involuntary roll of his hips, putting pressure on me in all the right places. Sucking in a breath, my hands slide up to his chest, holding there, waiting for my command to push him away.
But I don’t.
“You’re an unpredictable variable now, with a twisted mind to match. It’s that dead man’s fault. He stole your light, and you let him.”
I swallow harshly again.
“This turns you on because you’re attracted to the most dangerous situations out there, tempting your own darkness to emerge so you can taste that high,” he goes on. “You love that high. It’s why you end up captured and lost to the high so often. You love tempting the darkness, though you’ll deny it aloud.”
That feels a little too close to home.
Absently, he toys with a piece of my hair before continuing. “I killed him because I had to watch him touch you. Had to watch him fuck you. Had to watch you cry out his motherfucking name, and I was grateful I couldn’t hear any of it. It was the only time I was grateful I couldn’t hear what you sounded like.”
His eyes stay fixed on mine, and I hold my breath like I’m waiting for whatever is supposed to happen next.
“I had to watch you be weak and stupid, and I couldn’t do anything about it but view that endless loop. I couldn’t ever fucking hurt you, so I made him pay enough for the both of you. I killed him because, over and over, I watched him touch what was mine.”
Another roll of his hips has my hands fisting in his T-sh
irt, needing him closer. But the fabric simply tears in my hands when I try to use the shirt to pull him closer, and he smirks down at me.
“But you won’t claim me,” I remind him, almost feeling caught in a haze.
“You’re drained from the day, Princess,” he whispers, putting his lips near mine. “When you’re fed, rested, and thinking clearer, you’ll be thankful I won’t claim you. Because you hate me. Remember that.”
He starts to pull away, but my hands move up, grabbing onto his back and digging my barely-there claws into his skin hard enough that he’s the one to hiss out a breath of pain as he glares at me.
When he growls, I smirk.
“You like to break people down to small pieces of diluted information. You’ve done it to me countless times. But what about you?” I ask, drawing a wary look from him as I continue to hold him in place.
“You killed him because he touched what was yours, and you stole my own revenge from me when I was getting closer to finally having it.”
“Trust me, I deserved his death more than you did,” he growls.
“You save me because you can’t bear the thought of someone else ever hurting me again,” I go on, keeping my voice soft even as his expression grows more murderous. “Because I’m still yours. You’d kill any man who tried to touch me.”
He snorts derisively.
“You think much too highly of yourself, Princess. In case you’ve forgotten, your father and mother were mates who weren’t mated when she was with Gage, but she still—”
“My father and mother don’t count. Their situation was completely different, because my father’s instincts were dampened by a hex,” I quickly point out.
His hand slides down my body, moving with the curve of my leg until he’s gripping my thigh. In this intimate position, I half consider just using my magic to make us naked and see if he can refuse me then.
“They stole your light,” I whisper, lifting my head until my lips brush his. “Like he stole mine. You killed him because he did to me what they did to you, and you had to watch it.”
Locked in a stare, we both hold still, the sounds of our breaths the only thing breaking up the silence in the air.