by Evelyn Avery
Chloe gave him a look that made it clear just how much of an idiot she thought he was being. “Without me pushing her, Izzy never would have left the house. Do you have any idea how many times she would get anxious or self-conscious and cancel plans with you until I goaded her into following through? Yeah, I let her think that I was into you. I figured trying to make her jealous was the best way to light a fire under her ass. And it worked, didn’t it?”
Girls usually threw themselves at him, it was something he’d gotten so used to that he barely paid any attention to it. Vaughn understood the effect that his looks had on women, and more than a few men. He had the kind of face that made people catch their breath or hesitate on the street for a second glance.
He planned to make the most of it, good looks certainly made a career in entertainment easier, but it was hard not to be a little cynical. People paid attention because he had a pretty face, not because they actually gave a shit about him. Not that he expected anyone to feel badly for him, but being good-looking put a wall up between him and other people because he could never really trust their motives. That was what drew him to Izzy in the first place, she seemed to like him in spite of the way he looked, not because of it.
And Chloe had always seemed like just another one of the giggly girls. The ones who sat next to him in class so they could pretend they needed to borrow a pencil or always found an excuse to squeeze his arm or touch his shoulder. Yeah, the attention was sometimes nice, but it made him feel like an object instead of a person.
It wasn’t an ego thing, he was just surprised. “So when you were practically crawling into my lap at the Stockhouse, that was just for Izzy’s benefit?”
“I hope that doesn’t hurt your feelings too much. I mean, you’re a nice guy and all,” she replied pertly, smiling a little at the look on his face. “The all-American boy type doesn’t do anything for me. But you get extra points for finding all of her strangeness endearing, instead of talking shit like most people do. She smiles more when you’re around, so who am I to judge.”
Something in the way she said it made him pause. “You care about her. Like really care.”
Chloe shrugged, looking suddenly embarrassed. “Izzy thinks I’m mostly here for the money, and it’s better that way. She can be honest with me because she thinks she understands my motives. If I acted like I just wanted to be her friend, she wouldn’t trust it. That girl sees dark shadows everywhere she looks.”
“I can see why.” His gaze caught again on the brooding portrait of the Erlking. The painted eyes seemed to rest on his face, all cold arrogance and dangerous seduction. “Especially if she’s had this asshole dogging her steps for her whole life.”
Picking up a nearby sketchbook, Chloe thumbed through it before making a face at a particularly disturbing image of a goblin creature being eaten alive by its brethren. She tossed the sketchbook aside and then wrapped her arms around herself, fighting off a chill. “Do you really think Izzy is some long-lost fairy princess? It’s like a dark fairy tale.”
But this fairytale didn’t have a Prince Charming, just an evil King who wanted to consume the innocent princess, body and soul.
“I don’t know what to think,” he admitted. “But nothing sounds crazy to me right now. You could tell me little green aliens are invading Earth, and, right now, I’d believe it.”
Chloe sighed. “I’m going to make some coffee. It’s going to take all day just to catalogue this stuff, and I feel like I got no sleep last night.”
His reply was grim. “That’s because you didn’t.”
That was something he’d very much come to understand about the Underground. There, dreams were a reality. They might have woken up in their beds, but that didn’t mean either of them got a wink of actual sleep.
But before either of them could make another move, the sound of the front door banging open echoed through the apartment. A surge of hope rushed through him as Vaughn jumped to his feet. Perhaps it had all been a shared psychotic dream. Izzy had just run out for an early breakfast and would come back in demanding to know why he was rifling through her shit. She would look at him like he was crazy when he came bursting out of her room, and he wouldn’t even care about trying to explain.
Then he would wrap his arms around her and never let her go again.
At the threshold, Vaughn came to a stop so abrupt that Chloe smashed into his back.
A woman he had never seen before stood in the open front door of the apartment, eyes narrowed as she took him in. The only word he could think of to describe her was handsome. The woman seemed older, putting off an air of sophistication, but her face was completely unlined. She stood tall enough to look down at him, even though he was just over six feet in height, with long coal-black hair that hung like a curtain around her. Lips painted a dark red thinned into a narrow line against skin paler than freshly fallen snow.
Morticia Addams could eat her heart out.
Chloe jumped out from behind him. “Greta—”
But the woman only slashed her hand through the air in a quelling motion, her angry gaze taking both of them in.
“Where the hell is my daughter?”
To be continued in Captive of Dreams - Book 2 of the Into the Labyrinth series.
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Captive of Dreams
Chapter One
When other girls dreamed that they were faerie princesses, it usually meant they needed to grow up.
For me, it meant that I was having nightmares.
Except the nightmare didn’t end this time when I woke up alone and in darkness.
Dark silky sheets moved under my skin as I shifted on what had to be an absolutely massive bed. My fingers closed on the pillow that was thick and full of down. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the black walls shimmered slightly like the were made of cut obsidian. Everything in the room was painted in colors of darkness, black and dark grays with not even a hint of a contrasting color.
I lifted the edge of the silk sheet and held it up in a bit of moonlight coming through a high window. It was only then that I realized I was completely naked.
With a shriek, I gathered a handful of bedding in my arms and pressed it against my chest. It smelled like him, a curious mix of coffee and vanilla, with just a hint of musk.
This had to be the Erlking’s bedroom.
Being naked and alone in a strange place was definitely bad, but naked and almost anything else was probably worse. The real question was what I was going to do once I gathered the courage to leave the bed. I squinted around the room, trying to see into its dark corners, but there was no sign of the dress I’d been wearing.
What the hell had happened to me?
I remembered saying yes to the Erlking, agreeing to stay in this twisted Wonderland and be his queen. He had picked me up in his arms and carried me away. But touching him had done something to me because I could barely lift my head from his shoulder.
It hadn’t taken that many more steps before I passed out.
Which did nothing to explain how the hell I ended up naked in his bed.
My legs shifted experimentally under the covers as I tried to decide if I was sore or felt any wetness there. Part of me wanted to believe that even the Erlking wouldn’t stoop to violating my unconscious body, but it was safer to assume he was capable of anything.
But nothing about my body seemed out of the ordinary, aside from the fact that I was naked.
My hands skimmed over the sheet next to me, stretching almost flat to reach the far side of the bed. It was cold to the touch without even the indent of a body. If anyone had lain there next to me then they had to have left hours ago, or more. I couldn’t fight the impression that I had slept here alone.
I hate
d that I felt the smallest stab of disappointment at that thought.
The Erlking was beautiful, perhaps even the most gorgeous man that I’d ever laid eyes on. Everything about him seemed specifically designed to draw the eye and keep it there. His hair was the color of blinding sunlight, almost white until you saw impossible colors dancing in the corners of your eyes when you looked to long at it. Sunkissed skin, as if a single drop of gold had been added to the mix before God painted his face, seemed impossibly smooth to the touch.
But it was what was inside him that made me recoil at the thought of letting him anywhere near my body. His beauty hid something evil and dark that lurked behind the silvery blue of his eyes like a shark hiding just under the surface of the ocean. I needed to remember that the next time I was struck by his beauty.
Or naked in his damn bed.
I didn’t have long to think about that before I heard foot steps just outside the door. The sound of rusty hinges screeching open sent me burrowing deeper under the sheets to cover myself. My hands shook as the door slowly opened because I couldn’t face the Erlking in a position this vulnerable.
But it wasn’t Killian that appeared, illuminated in the light of the now open doorway from the candles in the hall beyond. A goblin servant entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him with a loud bang, arms heavy with a serving tray full of foods that I had no interest in eating.
It watched me with intense fascination, not even looking away as it set the tray down on a nearby table. A human wouldn’t have stared at the naked girl in the bed, but goblins were pretty far from human.
A shiver of fear rolled up my spine.
“Breakfast,” the thing said with a sibilant hiss as a snake-like tongue flicked from between its cracked lips. Its scaly skin reminded me of a desert reptile and the sharp teeth in its mouth were a touch too reminiscent of fangs for my comfort. I wanted the thing as far away from me as possible.
“Thank you,” I managed to say through a suddenly dry throat, hugging the covers tighter to my chest. “You can go.”
But the goblin only inched closer, its tongue flicking out again when it reached the end of the long bed. I remembered reading somewhere that snakes tasted the air with their tongues because they lacked a traditional sense of smell. I really hoped tasting me wasn’t what the goblin was trying to do.
Because it looked at me like it would have preferred it to be me on the breakfast menu, not whatever had been laid out on the tray. It looked at me like I was food.
“My name is Crag, princess…you should remember it.”
“Thanks for breakfast, Crag. Please shut the door when you leave because I need to get dressed.” No need to mention the fact that my clothes had disappeared and I had no idea where to find more. “I’m sure the Erlking will come looking for me soon.”
Crag clearly wasn’t going to take the hint. “All us below stairs was wondering why the Erlking would leave such a pretty piece of meat unattended, as if he wants something to take a bite.”
I pressed back against the headboard, drawing my knees to my chest. Despite my body language, I did my best to keep the fear out of my voice. If I stayed in the bed, then I was completely defenseless. But leaving it to reach for something I could use as a weapon would mean facing down a goblin completely naked. Neither of those were particularly good options. “You need to leave. Now.”
He sidled closer, spittle glinting on his chin just below the razor-sharp fangs now fully visible as his mouth split open in a dangerous grin. “And yet, here you is. All alone.”
“Except she isn’t.”
The Erlking’s voice rolled over me with a wave of sparkling heat. It was like entering an overheated sauna, searing hot for a flashing moment before it faded into welcoming warmth. I didn’t even think to question how he’d entered the room without me hearing the door. Relief rushed through me as he strode into the room and for the first time I was legitimately happy to see him.
The more suspicious part of me wondered if he had set this up for exactly that reason.
But at least he had never acted like he wanted to bite pieces off me. Not yet, anyway.
“That will be all, Crag,” he said to the goblin, voice low and threatening. “And if I see you in the princess’s rooms again, you’ll have a hundred years of falling down one of my chasms to think about the errors of your ways.”
The goblin bowed low as he backed out of the room, but I caught the angry glare he turned on Killian when the Erlking’s back was turned, as if he had to make an effort not to attack. I couldn’t help but wonder how many more things there were that I needed to fear in the Underground.
When the door slammed shut, my gaze flew back to Killian who stood just a touch too close, his knees pressing into the side of the bed as he stared down at me. It was crazy to be both this attracted and this repulsed by a person at the same time. My mind and my body were in total conflict and neither really knew what it wanted.
I had a brief moment to wonder if he was going to touch me, and how I would respond if he did.
A mocking smile played at the corner of Killian’s lips, as if he saw my inner turmoil and was amused by it. When he took a small step back, I could finally breathe normally again.
“You’ve been asleep for almost three days,” he murmured, answering the unspoken question in my wide-eyed gaze. “I had begun to wonder if you would wake at all.”
Everyone had heard fairy tales about magical slumber. But Snow White and Sleeping Beauty had gallant princes to gently kiss them awake. I didn’t have to guess to know that, if give the option, Killian would have chosen a less PG-rated way of bringing me back to life.
“What happened?”
His gaze coasted over my body. I was still covered by the sheets, but they were too thin to hide the curve of my hip or the shallow dip between my thighs. I felt my face heat as his attention lingered there before returning to my face. “I touched you.”
The widening smirk he wore was meant to make me think of dark, seductive things. He wanted me to draw my own conclusions about what happened between us while I was passed out, but hesitated to press him for details out of embarrassment. But Killian was one of the fae, which meant that while he would not speak an outright lie, deception was written into every expression on his face and in all of the things he neglected to say.
I shifted to bring my legs closer to my body and wrapped my arms around my knees, hiding as much of myself as I could while he watched in obvious amusement. “Touched me how?”
The tips of his fingers stroked the silken sheets as if he imagined it was my flesh under his hand. “Are you wondering if I slowly stripped the clothing from your body, my hands tracing every dip and curve as I laid you back in my bed? Perhaps my hands roamed even further, exploring the hidden places that would bring you the most pleasure, if you’d been aware enough to experience it.”
Desire clenched the muscles low in my belly. I fought to hide my body’s reaction to his words, forcing deep breaths in and out through my mouth. Even as his words faded into the charged silence, I felt their weight in all the places that he clearly wanted me to think he had touched. A shock of awareness tingled between my thighs and I knew if I pushed my hand down there that I would be slick with arousal.
Was this some magic he used to force my body to respond to him?
Or had I just completely lost my mind?
“If you’d done any of those things then you would just tell me so,” I informed him pertly. “You’re teasing me with half-truths.”
“Touche.” His hand spasmed where it lay on the bedsheets, only inches away from the outermost curve of my thigh. He seemed to be fighting with himself not to touch me. “Teasing you brings me more satisfaction than I thought it would. It takes the edge off of other urges.”
And I realized then that he was holding himself back, willing himself to keep from touching me even though he clearly wanted to do just that.
I had said yes, pledged to stay here and let
him drain me of life to keep the Underground intact. It had been pretty clear when I agreed that touch would be a requirement for making that happen. And pain. When he had taken me into his arms and I collapsed against him, I’d assumed it wouldn’t be long before he was fucking me up against a wall. I appreciated his restraint, but that didn’t mean I understood it.
Maybe he already regretted forcing me to stay here. Maybe there was still some piece of humanity left in his black soul. Could that be what kept him from fulfilling the darkly sensuous promise that had been made the moment he appeared in the Stockhouse and told me wanted to take me away?
Or maybe he just didn’t want me the way I thought he did.
Then I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Was I really feeling put-out that he hadn’t tried to rape me in my sleep? My head had clearly gotten fucked with at some point, even if my body remained had not.
But I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question, even though doing it while naked in his bed was probably the worst possible time.
“What sort of urges?”
He knelt on the floor, bringing his body that much closer and his gaze level to mine, even though it still very much felt as if he was looming over me. “Do you really want to know?”
I knew I was only digging the hole deeper. “Yes.”
“I want to hurt you. Desperately.” His hand clenched into a fist as his quicksilver eyes studied my face. “I want to tear into this pale flesh and leave you bleeding, begging me to stop. Then I want to fuck whatever is left of you into the ground. And after that, clean you up and start all over again.”
My heart in my throat made it difficult to speak. “That’s sick.”
“It has taken everything in me not to give into that urge, not so soon. But eventually I will, because I won’t be able to stop myself.”
The idea of it should have frightened me, and it definitely did. But a small part of me also wanted to know what it would be like to feel pleasure from him with the finest edge of pain to it. Every girl who ever read Fifty Shades of Grey imagined what that edge would feel like, even if they never acted on their desires in real life.