by D. D. Miers
Gray seemed to melt into the glass, letting out a gasp as the door pulled him through. You could’ve warned him, Caorach chided silently, but its song was cheerful, almost teasing.
“My blade is hungry, Chthel,” I said, ignoring the teasing.
Caorach agreed with me, and its song crescendoed in my head as if it could drown out my pre-battle fear. We could drink her blood, take her power from the Unseelie King, and kill him too.
That's the plan, blood-blade. But first, she has to be within reach.
Gray was through the mirror, but I had no idea where I’d opened a door to. I glanced back, tried to sense Gray by his beast, his power, but the door only went one way, and I had to open it again to know what had become of him.
Chthel took advantage of my distraction and leaped at me, her talons swiping down, her thick black hair sweeping back from her breasts. I had a moment to notice that they were pierced and connected by a thin gold chain bearing the Unseelie king's crest, and Caorach jerked my hand up to meet the claws aimed at my face.
I managed to block the blow and parried, my moves almost in time with Caorach’s song playing in my head. This was where we were truly as in tune as Eowyn and her Bas Fuar. I didn’t want Caorach to be in my thoughts forever, but as I beat the much larger huntress back, I knew together we were nearly unstoppable.
Chthel's loincloth caught on the tip of my blade as she fell back, pulling me toward her. I thrust and bounced back, adding a fresh wound to her inner thigh. Bluish-green blood gushed and poured down her leg, and Caorach absorbed the thick, foul stuff, intensifying its song as power flowed through it and up my arms.
“Damn,” I breathed the word, bracing for another attack.
“Morgan, get your ass through here, they say the door won’t open again once it closes.”
I turned toward the sound of Gray's voice, and Chthel struck, one of her claws catching my upper arm and slicing deep. My throat constricted at the burning pain of her poison in the wound, stopping me from replying to Gray or even gasping in pain.
Caorach roared in my head, and despite the pain, I struck again, my hands flying as I landed blow after blow on her raised claws. When she was driven back to the bedroom doorway, I slipped past her defensive stance and managed to cut her between those pendulous, swinging breasts. I cut through the gold chain and caught the king's medallion as it fell, then pivoted on one heel and ran at my mirror, praying I wasn't too late.
Instead of smashing through the glass as I feared, I was pulled through. The sensation was that of being tugged through water against the current, but I squelched my panic and let myself flow through as though it was only the naiads' pool.
The first eyes that met mine when I emerged were large and round and the color of sea glass. “Komodor?”
“Not who you were expecting, eh?” the big goblin chuckled. “Well, you can worry about that later. Who’s coming behind you?”
I held up the medallion. “Chthel. The king sent her to kill me. I just don’t understand how he could’ve learned my plans, King Komodor. Only you and Tryst knew.”
He pushed me to one side and readied his short sword, flanked by his redcaps, the elite goblin guard. “It’s not a rumor I’ve heard, Princess, but we’ll get to the bottom of it, as soon as…”
A large, webbed foot stepped through the portal, and Chthel launched herself at Komodor. “Traitor,” she hissed.
“That’s some talk, coming from you, Bitch,” he scoffed at her. “Just what do you think Lothar’s going to do when he finds out you tried to kill the Seelie princess before he could speak to her.” The portal closed before her fellow hunters could push through, and Chthel fell back as the redcaps surrounded her.
“She is nothing, a pale, tiny, insignificant thing that will never replace the King’s Huntresses,” she fumed. “I will kill her and Lothar will forget this nonsense.”
Suddenly, I began to understand what was going on. "Chthel, this medallion. It means you belong to the king, does it not?" I held up the gold piece, and she shrieked in a fury. "You stain it with your Seelie touch."
“I don’t want it, Chthel. I didn’t understand what it meant when I took it. I thought it was just an ornament of a hunter.”
She scoffed and bared her teeth in a wicked grin. “Your flesh is too soft and thin to bear the attention of the Unseelie king.”
I didn’t argue it. Even full-blood High Fae feared the physical attention of the Unseelie, sharing terrible stories of extra appendages, even eyes that wandered over the bodies of the Dark Fae. “I’m not trying to take your king as my own,” I answered truthfully. “You’re the best of the Hunters, you can taste the truth in my words.”
She snarled at me but didn’t bother to refute me. After all, I was speaking the truth. I didn’t want to mate with Lothar, I wanted to replace him with a Fae I knew I could bribe, even if I couldn’t control him.
“I will take Chthel back to the king to be dealt with,” Komodor chuckled evilly. “I might even stay to watch her punishment. But when I return, we must speak about our own contract, Princess. I had no idea you were desired by such power. I’m not certain our alliance still meets my needs.”
“Please, for the love of the goddesses, don’t tell me you’re putting marriage back on the table, we discussed this, Komodor.”
“That was before I understood that Lothar was making an offer of his own. I’ve told you, Morgana. If there is a negotiation for marriage to the Seelie princess, I will be seated at that table.”
With a wave, he opened the doorway, and the two largest redcaps pushed the snarling, furious huntress through. Gray and I stared at the door until I was sure it was closed, then I took his arm and wrapped it around me.
Part of me waited, for more hunters, or a Seelie assassin to make it officially the worst day ever.
“Just tell me we’ll get through this, Gray. What the hell am I going to do?”
He didn’t say a word, but held me tighter, until I could feel his heartbeat against my temple. “I’ve got you, my love. I won’t let you go. Not for anything, or anyone.”
Seven
I paced Orson’s office, now nearly empty as he packed his paintings to go with him, and the books to go to Penelope. “Chthel, Orson…Chthel, Unseelie huntress of the dark hunt, busted down my front door because she thought I was after her man.” We’d gone there immediately after leaving the goblins underground lair.
“You opened a door without knowing where it would lead. You’re lucky you didn’t end up face to face with Lothar himself.”
"The thought had occurred to us both. But what about the Huntress? What about this supposed offer of marriage she was so pissed about? You're not listening to me."
He nodded and shoved the box he’d been packing into the corner with its companions. “I heard you.”
“Could you pretend to care?”
“Do you want to marry Lothar?”
"Ask me that again, and I'll smack the words out of your mouth."
He gave me a long look. "You'd regret it." But his face softened. "You wanted a family, and now you find yourself with all the difficulties of being a real princess."
"They can't force her, can they?" Gray pushed away from the wall he was leaning against, and I pressed my back against his chest. "I wouldn't put it past her father to use her to protect himself."
Why the hell does everyone want to marry me all of a sudden? I couldn’t stand still, even with the warm comfort of Gray pressed to my body. I paced the room, winding my way between empty and half full boxes. Gray didn’t say a word, and Orson was too smart to say whatever he was thinking. “Well, everyone but you, that is,” I chuckled as I reached Gray again and wrapped my arms around his neck. “At least you haven’t lost your mind.”
He hugged me with a sigh. “I don’t want you to marry me because you have to, either. Nobody wants to say they got married to save them from even worse marriages. But I do want you and only you, Morgan. But at what cost? I can’t get a
promise of protection for you. Would you want to be married to me if it meant even more challenges from other shifters?”
“You two have a lot to figure out, and I promised Penelope she could bring that young shifter over tomorrow for some one on one with me before I’m completely out.”
“Are you going straight to Fairy?”
He grinned at me. “I’d told the king’s messenger it would be at least a month. For all I knew, I’d have to come right back to save your ass.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The messenger seemed to think the king would be very unhappy with my response.”
I scoffed. "Isn't that the truth, though?" I hugged him quickly before he could get grumpy over the affection. "Thanks for thinking of me and not just taking off." I took one last look all around the office. It was where I'd had my first and only job interview, seated across the desk from Orson, scared and alone in the world. We'd eaten lunch together for the first two weeks until I realized that he didn't actually buy lunch for everyone, he'd been bringing me into the office so the others wouldn't feel slighted.
He’d seen me at my worst, weak, alone, afraid…and told me he took me in because he saw how determined I was to succeed. “That determination,” he’d said, “is the cornerstone of hunting. The inability to give up when things get hard.”
Orson was right, and I’d done right by his generosity. “Are you all right?” Gray touched my arm.
"I don't want to be alone tonight, Gray. The building should be safe. I'll set up new wards and stay with you if it's okay?"
“It’s always okay, Sweetheart.” He took my hand. “I wouldn’t let you stay in your place without a front door anyway.”
Orson waved us off and went back to his packing, but I suspected that he’d be in contact with Fairy soon enough to delay his journey even longer for my sake.
Someone had hung a sheet over my open front doorway. It brought unexpected tears to my eyes, feeling that simple care, even though my place in the pack wasn’t secure. I went straight to my bedroom and made sure my mother’s mirror was sealed against any intrusion again. That it had opened to the goblins underground made me wonder if Komodor had tried to get in from his end.
“What are you thinking?” Gray placed his hands over mine on the burnished wood frame.
“I didn’t have time to attune the mirror…so why did it take you to Komodor? I’ve only used it to contact Fairy, wouldn’t it have made much more sense to open to my father’s throne room?”
“You think he’d already…uh, attuned it to your bedroom?”
I shuddered. “Gods, I hope it was just the only link to my home.” I sealed the mirror without blood magic, activating runes my mother had carved into it for that purpose. Even she had known that sealing a doorway was more important than opening one.
Gray pulled my bag out of the closet. When he opened the door, I jumped back, and Caorach materialized in my hand automatically, ready for another boogeyman to jump out, but the closet was just that, full of clothes.
“Are you going to be okay?”
I stared at him, my heart still pounding, and nodded, my mouth too dry to form words.
“I would’ve smelled danger, Morgan. We’re okay.” He tossed the bag on my bed and started pulling clothes out of my dresser as I watched, frozen by something I couldn’t describe. “Morgan.”
“Sorry. I can’t explain…I know you would’ve scented danger, I would’ve sensed it, the wards would’ve been blaring…But I won’t feel safe until Lothar is out of the picture and the goblins are back in Fairy. I can only look in so many directions at once.” A strangled sob clawed its way from my throat. “I’m so tired.”
His arms were around me in less than one shaking breath, enfolding me, protecting me. My shelter in the storm, even from his own pack. “Let’s go home. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to the pack. I will find a way to protect you.”
“I don’t want to be saved, Gray.”
“But who else will get your back while you’re saving the world?” He kissed me, and I felt the heat under what was meant to be comforting. “God, I want you. Let’s get the hell out of here and steal some peace.”
He took my overnight bag and my hand and led me out of the room, not letting go of me until we were standing at the foot of his bed. His hands were rough and callused, but touched me like silk, running down my arms and up my stomach as he pushed up my t-shirt, pulling it over my head and tossing it to the floor.
Next, my jeans, undone with a flick of those deft work hardened fingers before he slipped them down over my hips and down my legs. He knelt to remove them, his breath warm on my panties as he leaned in to kiss my thighs, then the fabric between them.
“Your scent drives me insane. God, you are intoxicating.” He pressed his face to the tiny triangle of fabric between my legs, then nipped it and pulled it away, pushing his fingers between the sides and my hips before sliding them down to my knees.
My knees turned to water, my heart racing like a rabbit catching the scent of Gray’s beast, and he caught my ass in his hands and helped me to the bed, opening my thighs as I laid back.
He slowly licked his way over and inside me, parting me with his lips, my ass still cupped in his hands as he tilted my hips to delve deeper into my wet cleft. He moaned as my fingers found his hair and knotted into it, tugging him into me as I rocked my hips, working with him to drive me toward climax.
“I need you inside me.” I pulled his hair, forcing his head up.
Gray obliged, shoving his pants down with one hand, slipping two fingers inside me as he kicked his clothes to the floor. I pushed up his shirt and helped him tug it up over his head, baring the thick, dark hair on his chest.
I ran my fingers through it and pulled until his hissed in a breath, sucking and biting the thick muscle on his chest as his cock pressed between our bodies, rock hard against my stomach. I took it in my hand and guided him to my pussy, gasping at the first thrust that slid him in and all the way to the top of me, almost painful as he bumped the end.
“More.”
Obediently, he slowly drew out and thrust again, sliding over my pleasure spots and bumping into my cervix. His eyes stayed on mine as he continued that maddening rhythm, slowly out, then slamming into me, until my sight dimmed and my breathing came in uncontrollable panting.
I felt his beast pacing under the surface, his voice a deep, feline growl as he quickened his pace, still thrusting hard, and I wrapped my legs around him, clinging tight as he drove me over the edge. I clenched and spasmed around him, screaming my orgasm to the ceiling and clutching his shoulders as though I were falling into oblivion.
His teeth sank into the fleshy part of my shoulder as he pushed all the way into me and held fast, emptying into me.
“I will keep you safe,” he whispered as he collapsed onto me and we clung to each other. “You are mine, and no one will take you from me.”
Eight
I didn’t expect to sleep at all, worried about another attack, but Gray held me until my muscles melted and I relaxed into a deep, dreamless slumber, my nose filled with his scent as we lay wrapped together with my cheek pressed to his heartbeat.
It wasn’t until morning that I learned Niall had set guards in the hall outside my apartment, and outside Gray’s door, in case the hunters returned. But Komodor had been the only one to send word. I opened the metal box his redcap had delivered with reluctance, and the contents made gorge rise to my throat.
“The soldier said that the Unseelie King sends his apologies for such an inauspicious start to negotiations,” Gray’s second in command reported. “it smells.”
I nodded and tried to clear my throat. “Yeah, that’s the smell of a hunter’s blood and flesh,” I shoved the box toward him and slid the cover back a little. “Specifically, Chthel, who’s had scars removed for disobedience.”
The box held a wide swath of skin that had been cut from the huntress, marked with several shiny pink scars. "It's likely they'll heal her, so the skin is
smooth, losing the honor of whatever battles she was in when she got them."
“That’s a terrible punishment? Do we even know what battles?” Niall’s voice was incredulous.
"We probably won't ever know, since I have no intention of ever having another conversation with her. But, depending on how angry Lothar was with her, they could be from a minor skirmish or her greatest victory. It could have caused her great mental anguish to lose that record."
“Damn. That actually sounds terrible.”
For a hunter, it is terrible. To lose proof of your deeds when you operate in darkness is to say they never happened, that you lost your prey. She had lost hers, whether her attack was sanctioned or not, but that Lothar had bothered to engage the goblins as emissaries when he was having such difficulty controlling them meant he was desperate for a diplomatic solution.
He’s not as strong as people think. I felt the blade waken and shushed it impatiently. But he is weak. We should attack before he gains strength.
Aloud, I mused to Gray and Niall, “He really isn’t as strong as he thinks he needs to be to accomplish his goal, whatever that is. The problem is, that doesn’t mean he isn’t still really fucking dangerous to us. We need to talk to Orson, see if he can shed any light on what the Unseelie King could be aiming for.”
Niall released the guards and reported that my new door had already been ordered, but it would be another day before it was fixed. Gray directed them to leave the guard outside my apartment, not because we thought the Unseelie would be back, but to remind the pack of my importance.
To keep their females from fucking up my shit, I thought to myself. "I'll call Orson and check in with him, see if the Seelie have sent any word of warning to him since they've not bothered with me. Then we can go see Tryst together. Hopefully, this attack will help steer him toward an agreement."
I stepped into the bedroom to call Orson, blushing as the smell of sex and musk hit me as I got close to the bed, a scent that Gray's lieutenants would've caught the moment they stepped into the apartment. Briefly, I wondered if I could bring my challengers up and rub their damn noses in it, and if it would make them understand I wasn't going anywhere.