by Mina Carter
Tessa gasped as she slammed back to reality, blinking at him. He smiled slowly at her and the old look faded from his eyes. Shock coursed through her. It had to be a glimpse of the future, of the man he 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.
She smiled, mouthing “thank you” and he giggled, wriggling next to her in that cute way babies had. The skin on her wrist itched and she looked down with a frown. Perhaps she’d rubbed it raw on the straps as she’d tried to touch him?
But the skin wasn’t red or broken. Instead, there were marks there, like a tattoo of vines encircling the wrist. She frowned, turning her arm this way and that to study them. Was it something from Ilia’s spell… but it didn’t feel wrong, unlike the words in the air around her. The design on her skin looked and felt right. But where had it come from?
Ilia’s voice rose, triumph filling the unintelligible words as she reached a crescendo. The last words reverberated around the hall in a way Tessa knew. Words of power, they were used to close a spell. An evil smile crossed the princess’ features as she reached for the baby.
Before her hands could close on his small body, the doors behind her crashed open. The two women jumped, their heads jerking around as the wood slammed into the walls and splintered, more kindling now than the elegant doors they had just 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 them,” 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, bitch.”
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. They were and he immediately shifted his focus back to Ilia. 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,” the princess snapped imperiously. “You have overstepped your bounds this time and 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. He watched 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 and 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 not, 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 mouth, jagged and darkly stained. Not the dental equipment she’d started life with for sure, but 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 consider 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 defenses, 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 and 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…” 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. Illusion wouldn’t help her win against him. He dealt in reality and brutal violence every night out on the streets, a place where solid combat skills and stamina beat fancy tricks and ego every time.
“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. He knew the craving. Oh yeah, 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 lightning 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, pulling her head back 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. The red tide 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 and flesh 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. As soon as the last strap sli
thered free, he pulled her into his arms.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured, burying his face into her hair and 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.
She was his. She always would be, and anyone who said otherwise could go get fucked.
Lifting his head, he looked down at her, memorizing every detail of her beautiful face. Tears ran down her cheeks and he bent his head to kiss them away, not caring about the other people in the room. All that mattered was her.
“Be mine,” he murmured against her lips. “I don’t care about anything else. Just you.”
“Yes. Oh, god, yes.” Her soft whisper and small nod were all he needed and he claimed her lips in triumph, parting them with a hard tongue to drive inside and taste her sweetness. By the time he lifted his head, her cheeks were flushed and she clung to his wrists where he cupped her face.
His gaze dropped to her hands and froze. There were marks around her delicate wrists, ones he’d never thought he’d ever see. Kyn bond marks.
“Tessa…” he began carefully, rubbing his thumb over them as he tried not to let hope expand in his chest. It didn’t work, but he kept his gaze on hers. “When did these appear?”
“When I realized how I felt about you. When I…” Her voice cracked, fresh tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “When I thought you were dead and I’d never see you again.”
“How you felt about me?” he asked, reaching up to stroke his thumb down her cheek. She was his bond-mate, her words confirmed it, but he wanted more. He wanted confirmation. “How do you feel about me?”
“I love you.” She bit her lip, looking up at him openly and honestly. “I have since the moment I opened the door to find you standing there with a baby. I just didn’t realize it until now.”
“Thank the goddess,” he breathed, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. “Those are bond marks, my love. They mean you’re mine, and I’m yours.”
“They do?” she whispered, nestled to his chest, her smaller body sheltered against his. “Does that mean…”
He smiled, kissing the top of her head.
“I love you, Tessa, with all my heart.”
EPILOGUE
I t was all over. Tessa sat on the edge of the bed in the frankly huge room 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 the baby...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 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 dear 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.
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 caught the tattoo-like marks of a kyn warrior that covered one side of his body, disappearing under that towel.
She licked her lips in anticipation. In a moment, she was going to trace those marks all the way down with her tongue. But instead of coming toward her, he turned away, opening the wardrobe and peering inside. He checked both, even walking to the door and opening it to check the corridor outside.
“Feral?” Tessa asked, her voice confused as she watched him. “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?”
He re-emerged, shutting the window and switching the curtains shut before turning his attention on her. He stalked 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. I can smell it,” he announced, his eyes darkening another notch.
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 snared 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, he had to love her.
“I’m going to strip this from you...”
Pushing back gently, he followed her down 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 dark 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 breasts were revealed.
“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.
“Ohhhh.”
The first brush of his tongue across her aching nipple was a delight, the second pure torment. By the time he suckled the tight 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 and 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 reveled 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.”
She shook her head and lifted her hips against him in answer. An invitation and demand all rolled into one. “Don’t worry. We can do romantic next time.”
He lifted his head to look into her eyes, s
earching for something. Then, with a small nod, he pressed slowly into her. Millimeter by millimeter, then inch by thick inch, he pushed his way into her body as he held her gaze with his.
Heat flushed her cheeks but she didn’t look away. It was like getting caught doing something she shouldn’t. Naughty, but it felt so damn good. He groaned as he bottomed out, his balls pressing against her ass as the head of his cock pressed against the gate of her womb deep inside.
“You feel so damn good.” He finally dropped his head, the words little more than a whisper against the soft skin of her neck. Skin he nibbled and nipped at, working his way up to the soft spot behind her ear. She whimpered and bucked against him, an action that caused him to slip another half inch inside her, to their mutual groans.
“Hell, this isn’t going to take long.”
It was as though her movement had broken the floodgates. Pulling back, he pushed into her again and again. Each time harder and faster than the last. She moaned in delight and wrapped her legs around his hips. This was her fantasy become reality. Her very own bad boy, all hers to love forever.
Turning her head to the side, she bit her lip as she exposed her throat. He’d told her that biting was special for the kyn, especially between mates, and she wanted to give him everything. All that she was.
He stilled above her and then used strong fingers under her chin to pull her face around so he could look into her eyes. Deep need and longing shone in his. “Love, are you sure?”