To Claim A Fae

by Mila Young

  I shrug and want badly to say yes, but it'd be a big fat lie. "So, where's this surprise you promised me?"

  His hand slides into mine and our fingers interlace. He guides me toward the door and out into the hallway. “Patience,” he says.

  "Will you stay with me today?" I ask as we stride down the corridor where a maid shuffles past us, her head low.

  "I'm not going anywhere. Now or ever. Just remember that, little wolf. No matter what happens, you will always have me by your side."

  I glance over at him—his words are peculiar, but I think nothing of it once we pause in front of a black arched door.

  "Hmm, should I be scared?" I ask.

  "You tell me." He pushes the door and it swings open.

  Before us lies a round room with white stone walls and floor, along with long narrow windows akin to the ones in the bedrooms. In the middle of the room sits a round pearl-white tub, big enough for five or six people to sit inside. It sits flush on the floor with no feet, and it must weigh a tonne. A small set of wooden steps rests on one end of the bath, and the other has a table with an array of fruit and breads and cheeses.

  Steaming heat curls up from the water, waiting for us. "This is so perfect. But seriously, what is it with fae and baths?"

  "It's a luxury not many have, and we use it to relax. Now, are you stripping, or am I doing it for you?" He releases my hand and starts grabbing at my top.

  I slap his hand and push him away. "Are Ahren and Deimos joining us too?" With the tragic news, I want us all together.

  "Deimos has gone hunting, and Ahren needs time alone right now. So you're stuck with me."

  I guess everyone deals with death differently, and I welcome a bit of luxury, so I fumble with the buttons on my pants and take off my shoes.

  When Luther doesn't move, but stares at me, gaping like he might drool, I say, "You just going to watch?"

  "Is that a problem?" He strides toward me, and I back away, recognizing the look on his face. My insides burn up from his intense stare.

  "I can get undressed on my own."

  "Then hurry." His voice grows deep, like his control is on the verge of vanishing.

  I force myself to turn away from him to not give him the satisfaction of seeing everything. Then I muse, "Any chance you could arrange for a drink? Something warm?"

  Over my shoulder, I find him looking at the platter of food that lacks drinks.

  He narrows his gaze at me and huffs. "I'll be right back."

  The moment he shuts the door behind him, I sprint to the bath while ripping my clothes off in record time, leaving a trail in my wake. Up on the steps, I step onto the seating platform that runs along the inside wall of the tub. The water is scorching hot, but at the same time it feels incredible to sink into its embrace. The water is like silk, gliding over my body. I slip my head under its surface and stay submerged for as long as I can hold my breath.

  It's a strange thing to crave numbness. I keep telling myself the king might have been my father, but only by blood, yet I also think I should grieve more than I am.

  I push my head up and out of the water, my eyes flipping open only to come face to face with Luther staring down at me.

  He drags his top up and over his head before tossing it behind him. Then he's pulling at the buckle on his pants as his gaze travels over my body in the water. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, but it doesn't ease the blush spreading over my cheeks. Seconds later, he's naked and climbing in. I tell myself to look away but fail miserably—I can’t help but take in his cock, large and partially hard. I recall how big he gets once he’s at full mast, how incredible it feels inside me. A shiver curls over my clit just at the thought.

  I splash around as I attempt to maneuver as far from him as possible to give him space, only managing to slide on the smooth surface of the tub and dip underwater.

  Frantically flaying about to get my balance like the most uncoordinated goldfish in the world, I grab for the edge of the tub. Strong hands snatch my ankle and haul me across the tub, dunking me further.

  Holding my breath, I struggle and finally burst out of the water, gasping for air.

  Luther's sitting on the ledge in the bath, legs spread and me between his thighs, laughing at me.

  I wipe my eyes and push my hair out of the way, then splash him in the face. "If you're trying to drown me, you're doing a fine job."

  "I thought you could swim?" He mocks me with his words and mirth.

  With a roll of my eyes at him, I spin away from him. Strong hands grasp my hips, and he drags me backward until I'm sitting right on his lap. My bare ass on his thigh, his cock nestled against the side of my leg as I am turned to my side.

  "I want you close to me." An arm locks around my stomach, and he's pretty much eye level with me. "You don't need to be shy around me, little wolf. I adore every inch of you, and if I could have my way, I'd spend every second in your company. And you would be naked, of course."

  "Really? And you?"

  "I'd be at your mercy." He blows me a kiss.

  "You're such a sweet talker."

  He shuffles us around so we are sitting on the ledge sideways, and I slip down to sit right between his legs. My back presses against his hard chest, his cock cradles my back, and his arm coils around me like he has no intention of letting me go. He brushes my hair over one shoulder, then kisses the back of my neck and shoulders. My skin pricks with goosebumps from the excitement building within me. But he never does anything more.

  At first, I'm confused. I had this impression he carried every intention to finish what we started in the bedroom. Except, he holds me tight like he just needs the company.

  A knock raps at the door, and I straighten. Luther draws me back as the door opens. His arms lower to cover my breasts, which I appreciate. My knees are bent in front of me up on the ledge.

  Dana waltzes in, the older maid who remembers me from last time. "Excuse me, Your Highness." She comes in with another maid, both of them carrying bundles of towels and clothes and shoes. They place the items at one end of the room on a side table, then they retreat and shut the door.

  "Thanks for covering me up." I glance over my shoulder at this smoldering hot fae, whose dark hair is wet and pushed off his face. Thick brows crown the most spectacular amber eyes. My gaze drops to his full lips, tempted to lean in and taste them again.

  "You got it wrong," he murmurs. "I wasn't concealing you, little wolf, but making it very clear that I've claimed you as mine by holding onto your gorgeous breasts in front of them."

  My breath catches as I remember he’s mine now too, and I can’t help but love how protective and proud he is of me. I almost lost him because I couldn’t remember our time together. Now, I want to soak him up and not lose another moment.

  "The more I learn about your ways, the more you remind me of a hierarchy of wolves." I soften into his arms, the hot water brushing against my shoulders.

  He kisses my head. “That's probably the most accurate way I’ve heard it described. And there are many factions vying for power.” He traces his fingers across my palms, sending shivers through me. “When I find the person responsible for today’s atrocity, they won’t die a quick death.”

  I hold onto Luther's arm around me, my mind racing in dozens of directions when a thought slips past my lips. "Why would someone kill the king?"

  "Usually power," he answers. "Or revenge, but I'm suspecting it's about power to weaken our court more than it already is."

  "Between us," I begin, "I wonder if Jasion might be capable of such a gruesome act." The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I'm pointing fingers to the mage based on my instinct, on my dislike for him, but does that make him a murderer? Maybe... hell, I don't know.

  “Jasion has been part of our inner court since a young age, as were his father and father before him.” Luther frowns. “But I don’t trust him. Haven’t liked him since we first met so long ago. He’d always make snarky remarks at Deimos and me whe
n Ahren wasn’t around as we grew up. But I’m not sure he is a killer type.”

  “No, forget I said anything.” Maybe the Unseelie king’s mother was trying to get under my skin. Make me see guilt where there was none, to cause derision. And just because I don’t like the guy doesn’t mean that he’s a murderer.

  “What would he have to gain?” Luther continues.

  I shrug because I don't know the answer. "Anyway, let's not talk about that. I'm starving."

  He reaches over to the table and collects a bunch of black grapes. He plucks one and places it into my mouth, the fruit exploding with sweetness over my tongue.

  Not for a moment do I mind. If this Adonis wants to feed me and treat me like a princess, then I say more please. Maybe for a change, things might finally calm down so I can wrap my head around where exactly I fit in the Wandering Realm.

  Chapter 3

  Guendolyn

  Candles flicker wildly across the dining table, and darkness cloaks the rest of the room. I'm sitting next to Deimos, with Luther directly across from me and Ahren on my right. Since arriving back at Shadow Court, I’ve longed for us all to be together, but there’s a strange feeling in the air tonight. A sense of tension which I put down to the shitty day. Still, it nags me, as I hoped being with the three princes would help us all. But it isn’t.

  I reach over and fill my plate with a slice of roasted rabbit and vegetables. My mouth waters, and I scoop a bite into my mouth. Maple glazed, I moan at the crunch of the potatoes and how fluffy they are on the inside. Quickly, I collect four more with the serving spoon.

  The princes don't seem to notice. Deimos eats directly from the platters, unable to put enough into his mouth. He has a fresh cut across his cheek, blushing pink, but I don't ask him what happened. Luther had told me he went out hunting, and if that's his escape, I respect his decision.

  Luther only eats meat, nothing else, and when I watch him cutting slices and eating them hungrily, all I can remember is the two of us in the tub earlier today, talking, laughing, embracing. He fills out his deep mocha-colored coat so well, leather buckles taut across the front instead of buttons. There's no mistaking the attraction I hold for him. His black hair is draped off his shoulders, a thin layer of growth on his jawline, and my body awakens at the memory of him naked against me. My stomach flip-flops at how much I crave him… crave all three princes.

  Ahren isn't eating but staring into the darkened corners of the room.

  I lower my fork to the table. "Ahren, are you alright?"

  He doesn't respond but remains distant. The other two glance up, looking over to their brother.

  "Ahren, you with us?" Luther asks with a calm voice.

  The eldest prince blinks and turns his attention to the three of us. "What did I miss?" He helps himself from the ceramic bowl of stew and begins eating as if none of us are watching him.

  Luther looks my way. The corner of his mouth quirks, coaxing my own smile. His feet under the table clasp around mine. Every inch of me responds to him, screams for more.

  Deimos tilts his head in my direction, his hand sliding onto my thigh, fingers pulling the fabric of my skirt up my legs.

  I tense and push his hand away, tucking my legs back from Luther's reach. I'm not a prude, but right now, I am more concerned for Ahren and need to know he's okay.

  "Ahren, do you have plans tomorrow?" I ask just as the door to the great hall opens. Footfalls echo around us as several maids hurry inside with platters of cakes and fruit and cheese.

  "I'm busy," Ahren replies, not even looking at me.

  I swallow hard and try not to overthink his reaction. Everyone is quiet tonight, and it's understandable, so I let it go. Sorrow is a close friend of mine. I focus on my meal while the maids squeeze the desserts onto the table. I've always been a sucker for sweets, and the three-tiered chocolate cake has my name written all over it.

  "Would you like a piece?" Deimos asks, having seen me drool over the treat. "It's the sweetest plum cake."

  "Plum? Not chocolate?"

  Luther leans back in his seat, grinning like the Cheshire cat, which feels appropriate for the realm I've fallen into here. "There's no such thing as chocolate here, little wolf."

  I frown. "The cake looks like it could be."

  Deimos places a wedge on a clean plate, and I have my fork ready when he hands it to me. Even before it touches my tongue, I smell the fruit, but I don't care and stuff it into my mouth, wanting it desperately to be chocolate.

  Sweetness spreads over my mouth—super sweet—the icing buttery and more like blueberry jam than chocolate. I won't lie, disappointment sweeps over me, but beggars can't be choosers, right? I finish the slice.

  Ahren's on his feet. "I'm calling it a night." Without another word or even a glance my way, he turns and strides toward the door.

  Nothing feels right about his behavior. I get he is grieving, but so are his brothers, and they can look me in the eyes and talk to me. They are super affectionate—in fact, more than before—so what's up Ahren's ass?

  I stew over his behavior. When the door shuts behind him, I push away from the table. My chair scrapes on the stone floor and I scramble to my feet.

  "Guendolyn?" Deimos asks.

  "I'll be back. I just need to do something. Don't eat all the cake," I tease as Luther reaches for a slice.

  Out in the hallway, Ahren strides down the corridor quickly, his shoulders curving forward like he carries the world's problems on them. We've been through too much together, he’s shared personal things about himself with me, and I want to be there for him. Whether he wants it or not.

  Guards are stationed along the marble hallway and down every passage I travel. With Ahren moving faster now, I quicken my pace.

  He suddenly glances over his shoulder at me, shadows dancing his darkening eyes. "You have no subtlety when you track someone."

  "Yeah, well, I wasn't trying to sneak up on you." I close the distance between us as he slows down but never stops completely.

  I look up at him and wait for him to say something, but he never does. I reach for his hand, my fingers finding his warm skin. He doesn't flinch, but he doesn’t hold my hand either. Worry coils at the base of my gut, and with it comes a fear that he doesn't want to be with me. A lot of things scare me, and I've conquered many of those fears, except when it comes to the princes, my bravery dissolves.

  For now, I tell myself it's him grieving.

  "Was thinking we can spend time together to talk," I offer.

  It's only when we reach the door that leads to the bridge between the castle and mansion that he pauses. Two guards flank the door, and I feel uncomfortable having them listen to us.

  "It's best you return to my brothers for dinner. With the king's passing, I won't have time for you." His voice is flat and cold. Icy shards spear through my chest as he stares right through me.

  This isn't Ahren. "What's going on?" I hate that my words come out as a whisper, that the guards are witness to my despair.

  The prince turns away from me and shoves open the door before stepping into the windy night across the bridge.

  I shudder at the way he dismisses me. Heavy layers of dread drag through me that something else is wrong here. I look over to the guards, who glance away at my stare.

  I don't even wait for the door to shut before I rush out after Ahren, fury burning me that he'd treat me this way.

  "Hey!" I call out.

  He pauses on the bridge, keeping his back to me.

  Night drapes the kingdom around us, the sky bright with stars where the clouds have parted.

  Hair blows in my face, and I push it behind my ears. My skin ripples from the freezing wind buffeting into me.

  "You want to tell me what's going on?" My steps toward him are awkward as I hug myself. The skirt whips around my legs, and despite the cold, my insides are on fire with emotions.

  "There's nothing to tell, Guendolyn. Don't make this harder than it is."

  The words
slice into me like blades. "What are you talking about?" I grab his arm, but he pulls away. My heart splinters, the ache in my chest deepening. "You don't have to go through the loss of your stepfather alone. Please Ahren. Let me in."

  He keeps his head low, his breaths deep and ragged. The dull ache rising through me deepens, and I know in that moment without a shadow of a doubt that his reaction has little to do with the king's demise. It's about us. I feel it in my body.

  "Did I do something wrong?" I whisper, hating that I sound so hopeless. Except this isn't anguish, but the tearing of the bond I thought we shared. In those few moments when he doesn't respond, a storm of feelings sweeps over me.

  Sorrow that I'll lose him.

  Pity for myself.

  Fury at him for pulling this shit.

  And most of all how I want to force him to look me in the eyes and tell me the damn truth of what's going on.

  "Over the coming weeks, there will be changes in the court. I'll take the throne, and..." His voice fades, and at first I don’t think he’s going to respond. Then he says softly, "I can't do this, Guendolyn."

  I tremble, fighting the panic clawing at my chest. I lash out and snatch his arm, forcing him to face me. "So you won't have time for me? Is that what you’re worried about?"

  "I'd rather you hate me. That I can deal with, but your tears will destroy me."

  I stare at him, bewildered. I want time to stand still, to pause everything and let myself catch up on what's happening. But my mind is melting, and the words slip past my lips like unstoppable lava from an erupting volcano.

  "Are you breaking up with me?"

  Does he even understand that concept? I don't know, don't care as everything inside me starts to fall apart.

  "I have a responsibility," he says, like I'm his guard or one of his servants.

  "Fuck responsibility," I snap. "I thought we had..." My eyes prick with the tears pooling and rolling down my cheeks. "What's happening, Ahren?"

  He doesn't move to take me into his arms as I expect him to. It's only us two, the wild weather roaring around us, and the crack of my heart.