Kyn Series

by Mina Carter

  Then, she remembered she had a voice, yelling and screaming for all she was worth, trying to get someone’s attention. Her rebellion was short-lived as Ilia increased the pressure on her throat until she saw stars.

  “Shut. Up,” the corrupt princess hissed in her ear. “The place is spelled, no one can hear you. And you’re giving me a headache.”

  Tessa sank to her knees as Ilia released her, gasping for breath while she smoothed her hand over her throat, still able to feel the imprint of Ilia’s grip clamped there.

  “Get her on the table with the brat,” the Fae princess ordered, voice hard as she sauntered toward a cloth covered table in the middle of the hall, flicking the fabric off and letting it flutter unheeded to the floor. Covered, the table had been innocuous enough, but now, uncovered, the feelings that rose from it were vile enough to turn Tessa’s stomach.

  Lust, terror, greed and excitement. All rose from it in a cacophony of emotion that was overwhelming, even for a part-Fae like Tessa. And if she felt ill, with her human half adding an insensitive shield, then she had no clue how the full-blooded Fae dealt with it. A quick glance at the nearest one, a Fae wearing the full armour of one of Ilia’s knights, revealed a clenched jaw and hollow eyes as he looked down at her. Tessa shivered. No help there.

  Ilia though, seemed unaffected. Or worse, she actually seemed to be revelling in the evil emotions as they rose from the table. Her slender hand smoothed across the darkly stained surface in a caress. Stains Tessa didn’t need a vampire’s affinity with blood to recognise.

  People had died on that table. People would die on that table, her and Spud among them.

  “Nooo! No!” she screamed, as hard hands reached for her, but it was no use. Several minutes later, she was bundled onto the bloodstained surface, all her struggles counting for nothing against the strength of Ilia’s hollow-eyed guards.

  “You can’t do this, he’s just a baby! What kind of sick bitch are you?” Tessa demanded, struggling as the straps were tightened over her wrists and thighs. She watched helplessly while they brought Spud over, laying him down next to her. His terrified whimpers eased, as if he recognised her scent—calming down, she assumed, as he was near someone he trusted.

  “Shut up and behave, or it’ll go harder on you.” Ilia’s eyes flashed fire, unrolling a scroll.

  Tessa laughed, the sound rolling around the cavernous hall. “Behave or it’ll go harder on me? Oh, that’s a good one,” Tessa laughed again, disdain in her voice. “So… you gotta tell me. Just how is this gonna get harder on me? You’re gonna bloody kill me! It’s doesn’t get much bloody harder than that you stupid bitch!”

  Ilia’s eyes narrowed as anger flashed in their depths. “You’ll pay for that, really pay for that. No one insults me in my own hall. I’ll make you suffer and your flesh will taste all the sweeter.”

  “I hope I give you fucking food poisoning!” Tessa spat and threw her weight against her bonds again. They were so tight she was beginning to lose the feeling in her legs. Which could be a blessing, or a curse, depending on which way she looked at it. She closed her eyes for a moment, really hoping this was just a bad dream, and any moment, she’d wake up on the couch in her sister’s apartment.

  Tears welled in her eyes, one sliding from beneath her lashes to blaze a hot trail down the side of her face. It was hopeless, despair flooded her. She couldn’t even save herself, much less help Spud.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, shifting in her bonds to look at him lying next to her. In the background, Ilia began to chant; dark, guttural words that struck fear into Tessa’s heart. She shut the sound out, concentrating on the baby next to her, straining so she could touch him. Just one touch, a brush of his fingers. A small comfort to take into the darkness that was coming. Whether it was a comfort for the baby or for her, Tessa wasn’t sure.

  Just a little more. Her whole body tensed with the effort, as Tessa pushed against the heavy strap around her wrist, fanning her fingers out until her fingertips brushed his leg. The swiftest touch, over, almost before Tessa realised she’d managed it. She relaxed, a sense of peace stealing over her as she looked into the baby’s eyes. Eyes that suddenly seemed too old. Like something ancient looked out of them.

  Unbidden, an image rose in Tessa’s mind. That of a tall man dressed in black, his pink hair cut short and spiky, the colour bright in the darkness of an alley. He moved as though hunting something, an edge of danger surrounding him, then seemed to become aware of Tessa’s “presence.” He turned toward her suddenly, his fists snapping up, the light glinting across the blades across his knuckles. He smiled, relaxing as though he recognised her, easy charm in every line of his body. Then, with a wink, he was gone, into the darkness in a swirl of a long leather coat.

  Tessa gasped as she slammed back to reality, blinking at Spud. He smiled slowly at her, the old look fading from his eyes. Shock coursed through her as she realised what she’d seen. A glimpse of the future, of the man Spud would turn out to be. The man he would become, which meant somehow, he would survive this…and she’d been shown to give her hope.

  Ilia’s voice rose, triumph filling the unintelligible words as she reached a crescendo, the last words reverberating around the hall in a way Tessa recognised. Words of power, used to close a spell. An evil smile crossed the princess’s features, hands reaching for Spud.

  Before her hands could close on his small body, the doors behind her crashed open. The wood slammed into the walls and splintered, more kindling now than the elegant doors they had once been.

  A tall figure filled the ruined entrance, his massive frame taut with the promise of violence and dark retribution in his eyes.

  “Get away from the baby,” Feral snarled, fangs visible even at this distance, enhancing the sneer on his handsome face. “You want to take pieces out of someone, you come pick on someone your own size.”

  *

  The look of surprise on Ilia’s face almost made Feral laugh aloud. It was a look that swiftly descended into annoyance as Talven stepped into the hall behind him.

  Oh honey, I’d be a little more than irritated if I were you, Feral thought, as he eyed her intently. I’d be running for my life. But she wasn’t running. She merely hissed—a look of frustration on her face as she dropped the scroll onto the table next to the two forms trussed up there.

  Tessa and the baby. Feral’s gaze swept over them to make sure they were breathing, and nothing more. He couldn’t allow himself the luxury of anything more, even though all he wanted to do was rush over there and free Tessa, taking her into his arms and never letting her go.

  “I shall deal with you later, Talven,” she snapped imperiously. “You have overstepped your bounds this time. There will have to be…repercussions.”

  “You’ll be dealing with me first, darling,” Feral growled, shifting to a guard position and beckoning her on. Watching her every move like a hawk. “That is, unless you don’t have the balls for it…” His hard gaze racked her feminine figure, obvious in the flowing dress. “Metaphorically speaking of course,”

  “Insolent creature!” she hissed. “How dare you speak to me, a Fae princess, in that way? You will pay, and pay dearly for this insult!”

  Feral lifted an eyebrow as he chuckled, the sound rich with amusement.

  “Sweetheart, you lost all claim to any kind of respect the instant you made a deal with whatever kind of critter lent you all that power. Because one thing’s for sure, it ain’t Fae. So, come on, you going to dance with me…or does it only get your rocks off when your victims are strapped down?” he challenged, an arrogant tilt to his head as he baited her.

  It was a dangerous thing to do. Borrowed power or no, she was still a threat and he knew it, but all he had to do was keep Miss High and Mighty here occupied, long enough for Talven to get to Tessa and the baby. They’d deal with the rest later.

  She snarled at him, revealing her teeth for the first time. Unlike Feral’s fangs, they were crowded haphazardly into her mou
th, jagged, and darkly stained. Definitely not the dental equipment she’d started life with, and classic for a flesh eater. Feral wrinkled his nose as she circled him, a sword appearing in her hand as if from nowhere.

  “I’d look into getting a refund on your dental policy if I were you. That look does nothing for your romantic chances,” he taunted, the glimpse giving him a good idea of just what sort of demon she’d sold her soul to.

  She ignored the comment, circling him with intent. The sword in her hand flashed out, checking his defences, undoubtedly looking for an opening. Feral smiled, countering each attack easily. If she thought it was going to be that simple, she was very much mistaken. He might have been taken down easily before, but that had been against multiple opponents and when he was blood-starved.

  Now though, it was one on one, and he had a bellyful of fresh blood. Fae blood. The power hummed through him, making him faster and stronger than he could ever recall. Oh yeah, I could get used to this! He turned another of her attacks, sliding one of his blades down hers with a screech, winking at her as she snatched it back.

  “Got to be quicker than that sweetheart,” he chided her, as though this were a friendly match between colleagues.

  Her face flushed with rage. “You’ll sing sweetly for me vampire,” she hissed, “a sweet song as I carve chunks out of your living flesh.”

  Feral shivered dramatically, circling her. “Oh baby, you’re getting me all hot under the collar. Bring it on, if you can…” he taunted, seeing how far he could push her before she snapped and lost her temper.

  And when she did that, it was game over. A person couldn’t win a sword fight if emotions ruled. Not unless they were either really good, or really lucky. Usually, they just got really dead.

  Dimly aware of the hall filling up, Feral kept his eyes on the woman in front of him. It was between the two of them now; the rest of the world would have to wait to get a piece of him until after he’d taken the bitch down. With her skirts flying around her dramatically, a useless bit of magic that made him smile, and with the look of rage on her face, she looked like a dark goddess of battle.

  “Oh, I will,” she promised, lashing out again and forcing him back with a complex set of moves. Begrudgingly, he had to admire her skill with the weapon, especially when she landed a cut on his upper arm. Her blade just kissed his skin, delicately parting it to allow the blood to well, oozing sluggishly down his arm.

  “You can’t beat me!” she told him, arrogance in her voice as her nostrils flared. Her eyes flicked from the blood on his arm to his face and back again, her small pink tongue flicking out to lick her lips. She had it bad.

  “I mean, how can you?” she carried on, “how can a mere vampire compete with me? I’ve eaten demon flesh, absorbed their power, and soon, I’ll be a goddess!”

  Feral didn’t reply, moving like lightening as he spotted the gap he’d been waiting for. His blades crashed into hers in a complicated overhand movement, flicking her blade from her grasp with ease. Not giving her a chance to react, he spun her in his arms. One large hand engulfed her forehead, racking her head up and exposing her neck.

  “Sorry sweetheart, I was born a demon,” he whispered, his breath kissing the side of her throat.

  Then he tore it out.

  Silence descended on the hall, all eyes on Feral and the tiny figure in his hold. She drew in a breath, a ragged wheeze that bubbled in the blood gushing from her ruined throat, a tide that flowed down the white gown, staining it scarlet in seconds. He released his hold, letting her drop to his feet like a ragdoll as he spat out the blood in his mouth and wiped his lips. The ultimate insult from a vampire.

  Ignoring her frantic scrambling to try and stop the bleeding, Feral turned on his heel, joining Talven at the table to release Tessa. Dropping his blades on the table next to her, his strong hands made short work of the buckles, and, as soon as the last strap slithered free, he pulled her into his arms.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured, burying his face into her hair, breathing in her scent as a shudder of relief went through his big body. Pulling back a little, he hooked a finger under her chin to look deep into her eyes, seeking answers to questions he didn’t know how to ask. What he saw there made him smile, his head bending to claim her lips in a searing kiss that said far more than words ever could.

  Epilogue

  It was all over. Tessa sat on the edge of the bed in the frankly huge room that they’d been given at Queen Mab’s order, her eyes closed as she took it all in.

  She thought that was it, all she wrote, for her and Spud…whose name had turned out to be Colin Jenkins. Colin James Jenkins. She smiled to herself. Such an ordinary sounding name for a little boy who would become such a powerful man. She had no doubt that the Winter King thing would come to pass…the guy she had seen in her dream had had that aura about him. The kind only powerful people did, the ones with the kind of strength and charisma that was innate.

  He would always be Spud to her. His parents had said she could visit whenever she wanted, just grateful to have their baby back.

  The shower in the en-suite snapped off. Tessa looked up as Feral re-entered the room, a towel wrapped around his lean hips. Pleasure coursed through her at the sight of him, at the love shining in his dark eyes. He hadn’t said the words, but then, neither had she. They both knew they were there though, just waiting to be said. For now, they didn’t need the words. Looks and touches being enough.

  She warmed as her gaze wandered over his body. Satin skin moved over the heavy muscles as he reached up, running a hand over his shaven head, the light catching the tattoo-like marks of a Kyn warrior that covered one side of his body, disappearing under that towel.

  She licked her lips. In a moment, she was going to find out how far down those marks went. But instead of coming toward her, he turned away, opening the wardrobe and peering inside. He checked both of them, even walking to the door and opening it, to check the corridor outside.

  “Feral?” Tessa asked, her voice confused as she watched him. Just what was he up to? “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for Pixies,” came the reply as he shut the door and headed over to the window, opening it to lean out into the darkness.

  “Looking for Pixies? Why?” What on earth did he want to look for Pixies for?

  He re-emerged, shutting the window and switching the curtains shut, turning his attention on her, stalking toward her with a look that was so hot, it should be illegal.

  “Because I’m planning to have my wicked way with you, and this time, I don’t plan on getting interrupted…”

  Tessa’s breath caught in her throat as he approached. A demon-born predator capable of great violence and cruelty. A warrior of his people who had dedicated his life to hunting and killing creatures like Ilia. Powerful and ruthless…and all that was focused on her.

  Any other woman would have run for her life. Instead, Tessa smiled. She knew her man. Feral would never hurt her, but the dark look in his eyes promised all sorts of erotic torment. Ones she’d gladly submit to.

  The silken robe she’d pulled on after her shower scratched like wire-wool, the whisper-soft material coarse against her sensitive skin. Heat coursed through her veins, racing through her body to settle in the juncture of her thighs.

  Feral paused, his nostrils flaring. “You’re hot, and wet,” he announced, his eyes darkening another notch. “This time, no interruptions.”

  He reached the bed, standing over her. The heat of his skin, so close, beat against hers, and Tessa swayed where she sat. She had to force herself to breathe.

  “Oh god, yes,” she moaned. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.

  He reached down and snarled a hand in her wet hair. She was fresh out of the shower, not a scrap of makeup or glamour covering her features. If he could find her attractive like this, then he had to love her.

  “I’m going to strip this from you…”

  Pushing back gently, he followed her do
wn onto the bed’s cushioned surface and suited action to words as he tugged on the tie of the silk gown. It fell loose, but the folds still covered her demurely. She couldn’t move, locked into his midnight gaze.

  His large hand covered her chest, spreading the silk collar so slowly it was torture. Tessa bit back a frustrated groan as he took his time. His gaze dropped, as inch by slow inch, her naked breasts were revealed. Sudden panic filled her. What if she wasn’t big enough, or too big? She’d seen those vampire women; all slender with tits a glamour model would be proud of. How could she compete with that?

  “Fuck me…” his deep groan of need as her body was revealed swept all her insecurities away. His large frame trembled as he bent his head to her naked breasts.

  “Aiiieee.” The first brush of his tongue across her aching nipple was a delight, the second pure torment. By the time he suckled the turgid nipple into the warm cavern of his mouth, all independent thought had fled.

  She bit her lip, trying to restrain her moans as he laved attention on one nipple, then the other. Every flick of his tongue, or pull of his mouth as he suckled, arrowed straight down to her clit, until it pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Sheer need filled every cell in her body as she clasped him to her.

  “Oh god, yes. More…I can’t…” she whimpered, not sure what she was begging for, but begging anyway. Against her skin he chuckled, the sound an added torture against her hypersensitive flesh.

  “Don’t worry baby, I know what you need.”

  He lifted his head to claim her lips. She moaned as he parted her mouth and drove his tongue inside. Hard, but not cruel, she revelled in the embrace, her hands flirting with the hard muscles over his shoulders. All that power and aggression for her to control. Hers to…

  He parted her thighs, his hair-roughened thighs sliding against hers. She gasped as the broad head of his cock pressed against the entrance to her pussy.

  “I’m sorry baby, I wanted this to be longer…more romantic…” He pulled back to whisper against her lips, regret and desire thickening his deep voice. “But I can’t help it. I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you.”