Queen and the Kingsmen

by Zoe Blake

  “What about them?” I opened my mouth and Troylus tossed a sweet ripe berry into it.

  “They are terrorizing the entire forest. Everyone is at their wits end. The huntsmen can no longer take their pranks and Theodora is threatening to turn them all into toads if they don’t stop knocking on her cottage door and running away.”

  Since meeting my kingsmen, I no longer felt the same animosity towards the mortals of the kingdom as I once did. It was no longer as much fun tormenting them with the dark force, so I sent it away. Besides, the wolves had been beating the dark force into submission for several generations now, so it was all becoming rather boring. The only problem was that now with no dark force to fight, the enchanted wolves had become restless. They had taken to playing silly pranks on the others in the forest and picking fights with the huntsmen.

  Hrafn cleared his throat. “Theodora is threatening to turn you into a toad as well if you don’t reverse the wolves’ enchantment.”

  “Is she now?” I chuckled. Theodora did not have that kind of power, but it wouldn’t stop her from trying. It was actually a blessing that Red had not yet learned it was I who was capable of reversing the curse on the wolves set long ago, not Theodora.

  “Very well. Tell Red and the wolves to come to me later today, and I will reverse the enchantment.”

  “But not Snow! They can’t bring Snow,” said Gripir, his arms crossed over his chest.

  I turned a questioning look on him.

  “Every time Snow visits, she brings more of her cooking. I’m tired of choking it down just to be polite,” he replied with a stubborn tilt of his chin.

  “You heard the man, only Red and the wolves.”

  Hrafn bowed his head and flew away to do my bidding.

  Turning to the men, I clapped my hands. “Let the game begin again!” I said, laughing with frightened glee as the men slowly began to circle me, a determined glint in each man’s eye.

  I do so enjoy playing with my four kingsmen!

  The End

  Dark Fantasy Series

  SNOW & THE SEVEN HUNTSMEN

  RED & THE WOLVES

  QUEEN & THE KINGSMEN

  Snow & the Seven Huntsmen

  This is no fairytale…

  They’ve been sent to break me.

  Not one, but seven.

  They plan to steal my beauty, my innocence.

  Seven Hunters to track me down and claim me as theirs.

  I try to run, but it is hopeless.

  They have caught me.

  I am their prey, their prize, to do with as they please.

  But I will capture something far more precious… the Huntsmen’s hearts.

  Red & the Wolves

  This is no fairytale…

  As the Blood Moon rises, I’ve been chosen.

  Chosen to serve, to obey…to die…for no one survives their time with the Wolves.

  As I am dressed in the ceremonial Red Hood, all I can think of is escape.

  But there is no escape.

  The lives of my village depend

  on my submission to the accursed Wolves.

  There are five of them.

  Five men cursed to live as Wolves.

  Cursed for generations, forced to protect my village from the dark forces.

  But they demand a heavy price for their protection. Me.

  Five against one…against me alone.

  My only hope for survival is to tame the wolves…but submission is not in my nature.

  Queen & the Kingsmen

  This is no fairytale…

  Captured and imprisoned.

  They seek to break my curse by breaking me.

  But I will not submit, no matter what tortures they have planned.

  I am stronger then the Kingsmen.

  Not just one man, but six.

  For I am the powerful and feared evil queen.

  My curse will stand.

  About Zoe Blake

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author in Dark Romance

  We are all attracted to the forbidden. Addicted to the rush we get from reading something naughty...something kinky. We love to lose ourselves in the fantasy. The powerful lord who sweeps the lady away to his remote estate to ravish her. The cowboy who takes the sassy city girl over his knee to teach her a lesson. The devilishly charming pirate who seduces his beautiful captive.

  I write those dark fantasies.

  Check out Zoe’s Website at www.zblakebooks.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/zblakebooks

  Twitter: @ZBlakebooks

  Instagram: ZBlakebooks

  About Alta Hensley

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author in Dark Romance

  Alta Hensley is a USA TODAY bestselling author of hot, dark and dirty romance. She is also an Amazon Top 100 bestselling author. Being a multi-published author in the romance genre, Alta is known for her dark, gritty alpha heroes, sometimes sweet love stories, hot eroticism, and engaging tales of the constant struggle between dominance and submission.

  Check out Alta’s Website at www.altahensley.com

  Facebook: facebook.com/AltaHensleyAuthor

  Twitter: @AltaHensley

  Instagram: AltaHensley

  Also by Zoe Blake

  My Wantonly Wicked Reads

  Papa’s Prey

  Trapped in a world of dark decadence, the innocent Corinne is now bound

  to obey her new husband’s every depraved desire.

  Daddy’s Home

  He will make her pay for her past mistakes.

  Dark Deception

  He will have her on her knees, begging for forgiveness. It's time she learned why they call him, Paine.

  Defying Him

  The harder Phoebe fights him, the more determined Michael

  becomes to bend her to his will.

  For more of my books check out my Amazon Page!

  http://amzn.to/2FEpFsn

  Also by Alta Hensley

  Devils & Rye

  I didn’t sell my soul to the devil…

  He stole it.

  Scoundrels & Scotch

  I’ll stop at nothing to own her.

  I’m a collector of dolls.

  All kinds of dolls.

  Villains & Vodka

  The name Harley Crow is one to be feared.

  I am an assassin.

  A killer.

  The villain.

  Bastards & Whiskey

  Sipping on whiskey, smoking cigars, and conducting multi-million dollar deals in our own personal playground of indulgence, there isn’t anything I can’t have… and that includes HER. I can also have HER if I want.

  And I want.

  Captive Vow

  I take you.

  To honor and obey.

  Till death do us part.

  This is my solemn vow.

  I am his.

  Captive ever after…

  Delicate Scars

  I was delicate.

  He was scarred.

  But together…together we became delicate scars.

  For more of my books check out my Amazon Page!

  http://amzn.to/2CTmeen

  SNOW & THE SEVEN HUNTSMEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  It was barely a sound.

  The soft scrape of a boot on the floor. The rub of a shoulder against the stone wall. A muffled cough.

  I was awake in an instant. Something was different. There was a tension in the air.

  Throwing my covers aside, I shivered when my feet touched the icy flagstone floor. Creeping over to the high-arched windows, I parted the brocade curtains just enough to peek out. All was quiet and still. The newly fallen snow lay undisturbed, glistening and sparkling in the moonlight.

  Perhaps I had imagined it?

  Another sound.

  This one just beyond my bedroom door.

  A horrible calm settled over me as if a long anticipated storm had finally broken. I had been waiting for this day. Dreading it.

  My stepmother had final
ly sent someone to kill me.

  With my only escape route now blocked to me, I had to think fast. Pushing open the heavy curtains, I placed my hands on the black ebony frame. I once again looked over the winter scene below, the peace of a winter’s eve now destroyed. My bedroom was far too high to risk a jump, but perhaps I could climb out onto the ledge and make my way to the stone balustrade of the room next door.

  There was the screech of metal against metal. The scrape of a key. They were unlocking my door.

  Running across the room, I picked up the small wooden spindle chair by the perpetually cold fireplace. It was one of the few pieces of furniture I was allowed in my sparse prison. Hefting it high, I raced back to the window. I hesitated. The moment I broke the window, there would be no turning back. I would have to run and keep running. I squeezed my eyes shut and smashed the chair against the glass with all my might. It shattered, sending sharp shards skittering across the floor. Grabbing the blanket off my bed, I placed it over the jagged pieces. Stepping up to the window, I tossed the remnants of the bedcovers over the sill, cutting my finger in the process. I watched in horrid fascination as three warm, crimson spots of blood fell upon the snow on the ledge, melting it.

  As I gingerly stepped onto the sill, the bedroom door opened. A bitter wind cut through the threadbare fabric of my nightgown as remnants of the broken window sliced into my bare feet. With a cry, I moved onto the ledge, quickly turning to grasp the chilled stone.

  Morbid curiosity getting the better of me, I peered back into the interior of my room. Looking over my shoulder, I saw three men enter, moonlight illuminating them. The brawn and bulk of their size belied their almost silent entry.

  So similar they could be brothers, each was tall with broad shoulders and a harsh angular face. They wore animal skins and furs. Trophies of their past kills.

  Huntsmen.

  Spurred on by their fearsome looks, I dug my fingernails into the stone façade and tried to slide my foot to the right. It slipped on the ice-covered ledge. My cry of alarm echoed across the still forest, sending sleeping birds into flight.

  “Well, the lass has spirit. I will give her that,” said one of the men happily, a note of appreciation in his dark voice.

  “Good. This would be no fun if she didn’t have some fight in her,” said another while clapping the first on the shoulder.

  “There is no point in running. We will only hunt you down,” said the third to me.

  “Why have you come?” I asked.

  “You know why.”

  I could feel all three men assessing me. No doubt, the bright moonlight was shining through my gown, leaving little to their lascivious imaginations. Was I to be used for their pleasure before they killed me? I cast a look over my shoulder to the drifts below. I could hear new voices outside, their conversation carrying across the hushed midnight landscape. More men.

  “Are you going to be a good girl and come along quietly?” asked the first. With his feet planted and his arms crossed over his massive chest, he made for a foreboding sight.

  “I could scream,” I warned. The words came out weak and trembling as my teeth had begun to chatter from the cold.

  “And no one would come to your aid.”

  The truth of their words sent the air rushing from my lungs. I was completely alone. The wretched irony was this conversation with my killers was the first a human being had spoken to me in years. My stepmother had ordered the servants and villagers to ignore my presence and never to speak to me almost from the moment my father had drawn his last breath. I had been wrapped in a blanket of silence and solitude for as long as I could remember.

  I could feel the tears pool in my eyes. As they dropped, they froze on my chilled cheeks. “You could let me go,” I whispered.

  “No. We can’t. You are a prize we have fought long and hard to claim. You belong to us now,” explained the third man.

  My brow wrinkled at his words. “You’re not here to kill me?”

  A bark of laughter came from all three men.

  The first one answered for the group. “You may trust us in this, lass. The very last thing we plan to do is kill you.”

  “Enough talk,” ground out the second grumpily. “The others are waiting below.”

  He stepped before me. Laying a hand on my chest, he pushed.

  Flailing, my outstretched hands scrambled for some kind of purchase but only met with air. The sound of rushing wind tormented me as I fell backwards into nothingness. My scream lost. What was only an instant felt like an eternity.

  Then…instead of the cold embrace of death, I felt warmth.

  I was held in a pair of strong arms. The feel of soft fur caressed my cheek. He smelled of pine and whiskey. I looked up into his bearded face, surprised when he gave me a wink.

  “Well, men. It looks like I have caught some falling Snow.”

  I was surrounded by hearty laughter.

  With a start, I craned my neck around. Three large burly men stared back at me with interest. Another four men.

  Seven in total.

  With a screech, I twisted and turned my body, trying to break free. The man who held me easily tossed me over his shoulder. I felt the heat of his large hand on the undercurve of my ass.

  “You bastard!” I yelled. “Get your hands off me!”

  I had a brief moment of satisfaction when I felt his hand move away. Then there was a burst of raw pain. His open palm had struck my right buttock. The thin fabric of my gown did not keep the prickling hot needles from racing over my chilled skin.

  Shock kept me immobile.

  One of the other men circled round my captor’s back. Grabbing my dark, ebony hair, he forced my head up. I winced at the twinge of pain.

  Addressing the assembled men, he said, “Let’s get our new prize home so we can really begin her punishment.”

  I opened my mouth to scream, but he shoved a gag between my red lips, tying it tightly behind my head.

  Once upon a time, I was a princess named Snow White…now, I am the captive prize of seven huntsmen.

  CHAPTER TWO SNEAK PEEK

  Seven men. Seven men. Seven men.

  My heart beat out a frenetic cadence as all I could think was seven men. How was I to escape from seven men?

  The woods.

  They were my only hope. Stealing furtive glances at them from beneath my cascade of hair, I waited for my moment. They were carrying me to a small clearing just on the other side of the castle walls.

  Where were the guards?

  Why was no one raising the alarm?

  As we neared their horses, I could feel the muscles in my body tense, primed for action. The very moment my bare feet touched the ground, I bolted.

  Hearing their outraged shouts and cries only spurred me on.

  Straining to see, the moonlight dimmed in the forest, I dodged and weaved through the dark, towering trees. Sinking deep into the icy cold slush, my feet felt cold and bruised. My palms were scraped raw as I braced myself against the rough bark of the trees to keep from slipping.

  I could hear their howls of frustration as they searched the forest for me. Their large bodies crashed through the underbrush like wild beasts who had picked up the scent of vulnerable prey nearby.

  Placing my back against the harsh surface of one tree, I clawed at the knot behind my head holding the gag in place. The moment the dingy fabric dropped from my lips, I sucked in a desperate breath. The frigid air stabbed at my lungs. My usually pale skin glowed a raw red as the bitter cold chafed. With nothing more than my thin silk nightgown and no protection for my feet, I would not last long exposed to the unforgiving elements.

  The village was too far away, and there was no guarantee I would find shelter and help. My only hope was to hide from the huntsmen long enough to double back to the castle. The possibility that it was my very own stepmother who had sent them after me crossed my mind. The castle would not be safe for long, but it was a massive structure with plenty of places to hide. Perhap
s I could find a servant still loyal to me or my father. It was a risk I was willing to take.

  Straining to hear, I was alarmed at the sudden stillness.

  Something was wrong.

  I could no longer hear the tread of the huntsmen’s booted feet on the forest floor, or the snap of brittle tree branches as their tall frames passed. They were no longer shouting to one another or cursing my flight.

  Neither was there the sound of the woodland creatures as they skittered past nor the enraged call of a bird disturbed from their slumber.

  All was still.

  Something was wrong.

  Wincing from the piercing pain, I took a few tentative steps forward, away from the protection of the tree I was leaning on. I suppressed a grimace at the sight of my own bloodied footprints. The bitter cold had numbed my feet, but now, in addition to the cuts from the broken glass of my window, I had no doubt they were badly torn from the harsh bramble and twigs littering the forest floor. Trying to still my harsh breathing, I glanced desperately about me, searching through the darkness.

  I took another step.

  There was the sickening crack of splintering wood.

  Something tightened around my ankle.

  Screeching in pain and alarm, I was swept off my feet to hang upside down. My nightgown floated over my head, blinding me. Swinging to and fro, I struggled against the bind and the rising panic as all the blood rushed to my head.