Mated to the Prince (Portal City Protectors Book 3)

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Mated to the Prince (Portal City Protectors Book 3) Page 11

by Georgette St. Clair


  More wetness slid from her, coating the hot skin where they joined, easing his path.

  “Don’t you want it all?”

  Yes, please.

  She moaned, reaching for his forearm and gripping it to anchor herself.

  “Yes. All of you.”

  His smile was harsh and confident. A sexy twist of his lips. He pulled out a bit before slamming back in. In one hard jerk, he pushed all the way inside. She screamed. Each deep dig of his cock and his groin muscle rubbing against her tender clit served to sweeten the pleasure.

  Everything spiraled, her chest heaving and oxygen freezing before going to her brain. Where before there was an edge of pain, now it had changed to a pulsing pleasure that hurt so good. Her nipples were aching points that accented each of his harsh thrusts.

  She clenched her muscles inside, pulling him deeper. Needing more.

  He was right … about it all.

  The need.

  The craving.

  The chance to break free of her fear and let him change her.

  She let him lead. Giuliana couldn’t have compared his touch to anything she’d had before, or the late nights when she touched herself, seeking solace from the loneliness. He forced his hand between them, and she clenched her teeth as he stroked her clit. It stood out for him, hungry for more of his brand of electric sensation.

  “It’s there, Giuliana. Everything you’ve wanted. The thing you dreamed of and told no one. You’re not alone anymore. Reach for it.”

  She sucked in a deep breath. Her dreams? She’d wanted love and passion, like any other woman. Companionship. Connection. And Pasquale was here, a force between her legs, showing her what it could be.

  This whole mission with him had been a whirlwind. Each new thing she learned about his world pulled her in. Too fast, too easy. The ground had to fall out from under them sometime. But even as she thought it, she was doing what he said, focusing on his bruising fingers on her clit, the pound of his shaft within her. He wasn’t gentle, and she realized she didn’t want him to be.

  He didn’t treat her like she needed to be cared for because she was weak.

  Impossible to shatter.

  Yes. He recognized she was just as strong as him. That she could take anything he gave.

  Giuliana would be the only woman in the world who could ever take him.

  Pride and possessiveness swelled in her chest.

  Mine!

  Yes, yours.

  A twist of gut-wrenching need echoed through their mental bond. Her toes tingled, and it snaked its way up over her calves and around her thighs. Warmth spread through her stomach, and she could just handle it, she could take one deep breath.

  He pressed closer to her, his punishing thrusts battering her as his fingers begged for acceptance. And she was lost, torn between opposing sides. He was sweet and bitter, the knife plunging in and the safety shield of a bodyguard all wrapped into one.

  Her clit throbbed with agony, but it sang with pleasure. Her nipples were tight with pinched pleasure, pulsing with each heartbeat. It sent his possession deeper into her skin. Too much. Everything about Pasquale was too much—from his touch to the remembered impressions on her skin.

  The old her would have wanted to run away, to deny his possession, but he blasted her into new life, ripping from her any chances to hide.

  Giuliana swallowed, and his vicious thrusts took her under. She was floundering, the softness of the cover underneath her a counterpoint to his burning haven.

  Pasquale was an undertow, and she was drowning, exhilarated and terrified as she was battered under the water, a current pulling her to certain doom. His world would obliterate her old one. Remove any chance she’d ever be able to behave like she had before.

  She didn’t know which she was more afraid of: taking a leap of faith with him, or fighting to stay as she was.

  His fingers dug into her thighs, pushing them as wide apart as they could go as he powered between her legs.

  And her body crashed against the sharp rocks, breaking into little pieces. She’d had pleasure, those late nights with her hand working furiously under the covers. If she’d flown into the sky then, now she felt the weight of the earth press her toward the molten core.

  Her chest seized, her throat worked, and she was breathless.

  One false step and she’d die from it all.

  Muscles locked, toes curled until they cramped, and her mouth open on a silent scream, she gave in to his ecstasy.

  “Yes. You feel it. Right fucking there.”

  Giuliana followed him. His hips rolled against her, his cock thickening, and it only sent powerful vibrations over her ragged nerves. They melted, soldered together in this explosive destruction. And then he yelled, his cock jerking inside her and his seed branding her.

  It tossed her, broke her to pieces and put them back together. The pleasure was blistering, rocking her core and forcing her body to curl up against him.

  He held her through it, his teeth at her shoulder.

  He didn’t bite down enough to mark her, to complete what they’d begun, but the whispered promise was enough to soothe her wolf.

  I will claim you when you aren’t pushed by instinctual urges.

  And he’d done what he’d promised—cared for her and showed her he was strong enough to do it.

  This man, this wolf, had denied the call of the wild to mark her permanently as his even when she wouldn’t have been able to stop it.

  Mate.

  Yes, in any way you need.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kalinda hovered in magical quicksand. The murky gold slush allowed her to breathe, thank gods, but she couldn’t do much but hover around it. No matter how much she tried to get to her feet, she only succeeded in twisting her dress around her legs and risking having an exposé moment for all to see.

  Not her thing, and if her mate saw anyone checking her out there would be hell to pay.

  Though, she should be grateful she was alive.

  The burning flames from Kieran had burned hotter than hell but hadn’t been meant to wound her. Instead, it messed with her mind and made her believe she was going to be a burnt mass for Romano to find. Kieran had also used the fire to shield them teleporting to another location.

  Said location, she wasn’t so sure of. It didn’t look like any place she’d seen, and a lance of fear speared through her. Where was she? Had he taken her out of Encantado? Through the golden haze she was trapped within, large stones protruded through a blackened flat swathe of earth. It was sort of like … an arena, minus the bleachers or seating for visitors.

  Beyond the arena was a forest of dead and white gnarled trees. Their branches had long ago given up producing anything living, and the vision of them was enough to make Kalinda look away.

  Her captor walked around the flattened space—probably as large as half a football field—pointing at the ground and muttering. In the wake of where he stepped, white lines appeared on the floor, glowing brightly.

  When he reached the end of his circle, he smiled. “Falistinar.”

  The odd, sing-song language he spoke was the same as Silva. Kalinda hadn’t heard much Eldalisfae—the language of the Fae—but she’d learned about it being with Silva and among the Mage Council. Much of Kalinda’s power was rooted in the old connection mages used to have with the Fae court. Kalinda was the only known mage of old blood to revitalize that connection.

  “I see you’re awake.”

  No shit, Sherlock. “Where is Silva?”

  “Niamh Danaan of the Silver is on her way here, I’d hope. For your sake. It’s been two weeks.”

  Two weeks!

  Romano would be losing his shit and probably destroying all of Encantado to find her.

  “My mate—”

  “Your mate has sent word my demands shall be met, but the object of my query was harmed enough to have to be healed properly. I suppose I shouldn’t have destroyed her wings.”

  Silva would die with
out them, and Kalinda had no idea how she’d slept through two freaking weeks and wasn’t aware.

  “Don’t worry, the osraebrin can sustain life for as long as it’s active.”

  Not that she had any idea what the hell he was talking about, but she figured he talked about the glittery goo around her.

  At least she wasn’t dead. That had been Kalinda’s greatest fear after the beating she’d taken and the fire had spread. “How do you know Silva?”

  She knew Kieran, no matter how much he appeared like Silva, was not the same. His black eyes and darker visage were a dead giveaway. Still, he was Fae. Silva, as Queen, should have been untouchable for him.

  Instead of answering Kalinda’s questions, he stalked toward her. A portal opened behind him, but he never acknowledged it. Not that it mattered, since the Fae warriors and wolves he had with him in the Council mansion were the only ones that stepped through.

  Oh good. We’ve got more assholes to deal with. Great.

  Kieran sniffed the air, a very wolf-like move that surprised her. “I can smell her magic on you but no wynathraeda. She always was an overconfident queen.”

  Again, Kalinda was really tired of not knowing what was going on. “Taking me will bring Silva to your doorstep, but it will also bring my whole pack and the National Magic Council on you as well. It would be better to figure out what your demands are now.”

  Being in politics had, at least marginally, increased her diplomacy if nothing else. The sooner she got out of this, the better.

  “Do you know the woman you follow so blindly?”

  Kalinda shrugged, internally reaching for her magic. There was nothing. The inner spirits still didn’t answer when she summoned them, and it frightened her. No one had ever been able to stop her power.

  “It’s this land. Outside of this area, there is a magic-dampening aura here.”

  He said outside the area, so she should be able to reach. But how did he know she was reaching?

  Kieran rolled his eyes. “It’s because I would be doing the same. But the binding spell you’re in won’t allow any magic to be used. Feel special. It cost a pretty penny to get that when I was back in my world, and I used it on you.”

  Except, she didn’t feel special. She wanted out and wanted this over and done. “What do you want?”

  “Ah, ah, ah. My question first. How well do you know Niamh?”

  “Well, Silva is my best friend. Question answered. What. Do. You. Want?”

  Kieran watched her for a moment, his head cocked to the side. “You believe that.” He sighed. “She’s a tyrant.”

  That was nothing like the Silva she knew. Sure, Silva had moments where Kalinda could see the regal part of her that demanded things, but it was usually to lower-ranking wolves where they all were treated as such, and it wasn’t malicious. Most of the time, Silva was too busy enjoying posting embarrassing pictures of Encantado life on LeafBook to be worried about being cruel to anyone.

  “That’s not her.”

  “That’s because you know a shadow of her. So can you truly call her your best friend?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me otherwise.”

  Kieran chuckled. “I can see why she likes you. And maybe, if this were another time and place, I’d be softer with my methods, but I can’t afford to. Niamh Danaan was exiled out of Seraph because her people couldn’t stomach her.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Did you even wonder how a Fae Queen ended up with her power bound and living as a human? Come now, you can’t be that naïve.”

  Kalinda had wondered, and there always seemed to be enough time to talk about it, but they never had. And the sadness on Silva’s face when she recalled some of her memories made Kalinda hesitant to bring that sort of pain on her friend.

  “Whoever she was then, she no longer is.”

  “Would you say that to a reformed murderer?”

  No … she didn’t think she could. Would anyone?

  Maybe.

  She caught a flash of reddish-black fur and her heart soared in her chest. A wolf was here, and not one of Kieran’s—they were all accounted for at his side. But she didn’t know the wolf. There was scarring along its muzzle and down under its chest, and it didn’t seem to be particularly interested in her. Mostly, it seemed to be investigating all of them.

  The wolf ducked back out of sight before Kalinda could try to get word to it. But Kieran was right in front of her now. The wolves he’d brought in sniffed the air in the direction the wolf had disappeared and rose to their feet. The largest wolf stepped forward out of the group, studying the forest with his muzzle in the air.

  After a moment, he stepped back in line.

  So a wolf they don’t know either. If Kalinda saw it again, she’d have to try to see if it was friendly to the Moretti or Lombardi. If it wasn’t but knew the Moonstone pack, she could at least reach out to Jeremiah. He was the liaison between the wolves and Mage Council, and she’d gotten to know him well since taking over. The Moonstone Pack may not fight outright but would in defense of Encantado.

  For now, she had Kieran to face. “We’re going around in circles. The Silva I know is my partner. That simple. So what do you want from her?”

  “I want my life back. I want my history changed so I don’t have to watch my friends die in the fucking gutter while that bitch queen sat on her throne and did nothing!”

  The sky darkened, lightning streaking from cloud to cloud when Kieran yelled. Kalinda’s eyes widened, but she couldn’t move away in the magic bubble. She was stuck, trapped with no way to protect herself when he could control the very elements around them.

  But … he’d said Silva had done nothing. “I don’t understand.”

  He looked at her, anger leeching out of him until all that remained was anger and loss. “In my world, there are those who are hated simply for being who they are. If you live in the country of your birth, it isn’t so bad. But if you are unlucky enough to be born elsewhere, in places where your race has been nothing but captive all their lives, they hate you. The resent you for not being one of them. They are afraid of who you are. And yet … we’re the ones they force to do their work, to spew their hatred on, and use our bodies until we’re shriveled up. Until we’re too afraid to stand up.”

  She understood. Who didn’t understand hatred between countries, races, or supernatural beings? The daywalkers hated the wolves. Humans hated mages. Wolves hated the feline shifters. There were those who didn’t care for divides between the paranorms, but every group had their own prejudices and history between them to excuse their actions.

  Kalinda had been working hard in Encantado to ease the burn of lower levels being tossed out of human society just because they had traces of magic. She’d lived in a world where she had to be a bit smarter and work harder than anyone else. And without anyone wanting to admit the reason … she knew why.

  So yes, she understood. Knew what that deep-seated pain felt like. Had tasted bitterness at times and joy at others, even with the gifted life she had when compared to others.

  Torn between wanting to soothe the pain in his gaze and anger at his methods, she swallowed. “Why take me? This can’t make your purpose any better.”

  “I took you because I’ve given up hope things will change. I tried to live a normal life, to leave it all behind, but it found me anyway. Silva showed up, her power reaching across all barriers, and it was enough to remind me you can’t run from your past.”

  “But she won’t come alone.”

  “It won’t matter in the end. You see, there is something she’s bound to. Something she won’t be able to say no to. And you’re the perfect leverage to ensure it.”

  This made no sense. While he may have known of Silva from her Fae heritage, he shouldn’t have known her connection to Kalinda.

  Not exactly.

  Kalinda had to admit Silva was always with her. She was right beside Kalinda at her acceptance speech to the people of Encantado whe
n she took office. Silva posted regularly on LeafBook. The whole of Encantado may not have been aware of what Silva was to Kalinda, but they at least could see how important they were to each other.

  Their very open friendship had put Silva in danger, and from an angle none of them could foresee. Kalinda hadn’t learned much about the Fae relations, figuring that world was forever closed off. Now she wished she’d pushed a bit more. That she’d asked Silva about it all and understood the truth.

  It may be too late.

  Another flash grabbed Kalinda’s attention. This time, the wolf was closer, lifting its muzzle in Kalinda’s direction for a moment before a howl ripped through the space. Kalinda shuddered at the sound.

  With the shifters, she had learned to recognize a sense of humanity within them. This wolf had none. It was all predator. All power.

  The wolves behind Kieran got to their feet, but the largest wolf once more stood to the front and stared down the wolf beside them.

  “It’s an animal, not shifter. Get back in line.”

  The larger beast growled at Kieran but pushed back. Its eyes never left the scarred wolf to Kalinda’s side.

  Where had the wolf come from?

  Kalinda didn’t remember there being wild wolves anywhere in Encantado. In fact, she didn’t know too many animals that were native to the area. Anything that could walk on four legs could also walk on two when they chose. So it made no sense for there to be a lone wolf.

  Without her magic, Kalinda couldn’t reach out to read or get a sense of anything more though. She was trapped, much like a human, with no extra support. She didn’t realize how much she’d come to rely on those gifts until she couldn’t access them.

  It was like being cut off from a limb.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “Then don’t do this, Kieran.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t have a choice. She deserves to die for what she did. And today, I will kill her.”

  “No!”

  But Kieran wasn’t listening. He’d already turned away. The portal he’d called before opened up again at the wave of one of his Fae, and he stepped inside. His men and the wolves he’d brought trailed in behind him.

 

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