Curse of the Fae King (Scattered Siblings)

by Kryssie Fortune

  Supper? A snake? Not for a vegetarian like her, thank you very much. A drink of water, now that she’d kill for. Slowly, pausing after each step to let the surrounding jungle wither and die, Meena approached the flower-festooned hut. Leonidas followed in her footsteps, but he snatched up the dead snake from the dead mandrake’s tendrils as he passed.

  More vines overflowed from the hut’s interior, but they couldn’t stand against Meena’s inbuilt weed-killing voodoo. She stumbled through the door, exhausted, drained, and so thirsty she could weep. Her heart somersaulted when he rubbed the back of his hand down her cheek.

  “You did well today,” he told her.

  His approval mattered, and when he spoke in that slow, rumbly voice, she melted inside. Then she looked past him at a small brick-lined hollow set in the floor. A spring bubbled up inside it, then ran away down a long open-topped pipe. Too thirsty to salivate, she croaked, “Is that drinking water?”

  He searched the cupboards for a goblet or mug. “These huts have magical protection as well as spring water piped inside. The clay ground around here acts like a filter and supplies us with pure drinking water.”

  She dropped to her knees, cupped her hands in the hollowed-out stone that made a natural basin in the floor. When she raised them to her lips, the water trickled down her throat, refreshing every part of her. Then she realized she knelt at his feet, and her hazel eyes fixed on his cock.

  Moments earlier she’d dozed in his arms. Now she wanted to thank him for carrying her down that endless road. And she knew exactly how to do it. Only…

  He stood back and skinned the snake. Its blood dripped on the ground, and this time Meena salivated. The slight coppery tang radiated the most delicate fragrance she’d ever smelled—ambrosia she needed to take into her mouth and savor. She craved it, thirsted for it, but she wasn’t a real vampire, just a dress-up-for-work fake.

  Leonidas’s deft movements enthralled her as much as his voice. He built a small fire in the hearth and skewered chunks of snake on metal spikes he found in a small cupboard. For once raw meat didn’t disgust her. Horrified by carnivorous desires she didn’t understand, she rummaged through cupboards until she found blankets and pillows.

  As the meat blackened over the fire, her strange appetites faded. When he offered a kebab of cooked meat, she wrinkled her nose and turned away.

  He tried to shove it into her hand. “Forget your principles and eat. We march again tomorrow, but have you considered how you’re going to rescue your mother when your stomach’s rumbling and you’re weak with hunger?”

  Meena contemplated the meat like a novice sword swallower confronted with a broadsword. “It smells rank.”

  “It’s fresh meat, straight from the flames.” He waved it under her nose. “Don’t think about it; just bite and swallow. If you’re a good girl and clear your plate, I will permit you to fondle my ears again.”

  What? Permit her? Then she remembered the way he’d groaned when her fingers brushed his pointy Fae ears. Later she intended to make him groan like that again. Empowering or what? Her aloof Fae turned to putty in her hands. She sensed his eagerness, but he brandished the snake kebab toward her. Earlier, she’d longed to sink her teeth into the raw flesh and suck out the blood. Now her stomach churned at the thought. But he was right about her needing to keep up her strength, so she’d eat the damn snake meat even if she choked on it.

  She reached for it, screwed her eyes tight shut, and nibbled the white flesh. Yuck. Warm animal with the texture of car tires—but still she chewed. And chewed. And chewed. And finally, with the help of another few cups of water, she swallowed. Her stomach cramped, and her eyes watered. Sour bile burned her larynx. Man-eating plants forgotten, she ran outside and emptied her stomach on the newly cleared ground.

  Leonidas followed and handed her a mug of water. “Here. Wash out your mouth and get back inside.”

  She did as he bid, glad to be back behind the solid wood door. Too embarrassed to speak, she warmed herself by his fire and sipped more water.

  He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. “I had not realized that you were allergic to meat.”

  She snuggled into the blanket, surprised as much by its fresh smell as by her freshly discovered meat allergy. “Neither did I, but maybe mum did. It would certainly explain her passionate refusal to touch dead animal flesh. The list of things she’s given up for me just gets longer and longer.”

  Voice gruff, Leonidas commanded, “Sleep, querida. Give your stomach a chance to settle and recoup your strength.”

  “Your ears…” Meena’s frown dissolved. “I plan to make your toes curl with pleasure tonight. I think I’ll start by licking your ears.”

  He froze, not breathing as he struggled for a Fae’s icy calm, but his cock bulged against the supple leather of his pants. “Sleep. There’s always tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow? No way. She wanted to pleasure him—right here, right now. A step closer, and she snuggled alongside. Sleep or sex? Well, she’d had a catnap earlier.

  She ran her fingers around the pointed tip of his ear. What do you know? Instant cock stand. Another stroke of her fingers, and he groaned deep in his throat.

  She touched her lips to the points of his ears. His whole body tensed, and a shiver ran down his spine. Her breath warmed his ear as she explored every fold and cranny with her tongue. His needy growl melted her inner core, and she gave his ear her undivided attention. One ear thoroughly kissed, licked, and loved, she moved to the other. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, just stayed stiff and hard beside her. Expectant even.

  Again his voice crackled with longing and need. “Sleep now. We’ve another long march tomorrow.”

  Stop? No way? Not when she felt deliciously in control. She ran a trail of kisses down his neck—so close to his jugular vein. She’d intended to nibble her way across his shoulders, but she needed to sink her teeth into his flesh. Vegetarian, remember? No way. She hesitated, her lips hovering over the pulse beating in his neck. Her teeth—her fangs—scraped his gold-toned skin, and her tongue flicked over his vein. His chocolate spiced with chili essence hit her hard, and he smelled so delicious her tongue flicked out again.

  Do it. Pierce his flesh. Drink long and deep. What the hell?

  His blood called to her, tempted her so badly her mouth watered, and she craved the intimate bonding that true-mates shared. Blood exchange never sounded better, and her tongue swirled around that steady pulse that beckoned so sweetly. Hello, meat-allergic vegetarian here…really. Goddess, I can’t bite my delicious, intoxicating Fae.

  Drunk on his scent and the taste of his skin, she finally pulled her lips from that mesmerizing vein and kissed her way across his shoulder blades. Sweet Hekate, how many arteries could one man have? And why were all of them in his neck? She planted a gentle kiss on his neck, then forced her lips toward his ear. It was warm and curvy, flexible beneath her exploring tongue, but the tip was pointed and rigid—almost as erect as his cock. As she licked and teased his earlobe, her mind fixated on his dick.

  Finally when he groaned again, she whispered, “Anywhere else you want me to lick?”

  He swallowed and pushed her away. “You need to rest and regain your strength.”

  She hadn’t known a fully grown Fae could whimper. His crotch told her how much he wanted this. Honestly, so did she. Just the thought of taking his penis between her lips and sucking him into the damp heat of her mouth made her pussy tingle and ache. She fell to her knees, lips parted into a let-me-suck-you pout. When she rubbed her cheek against it, his muscles tensed, and his cock jerked. He reached down and buried his fingers in her hair—a sensual connection that gave her the permission she needed.

  She unlaced the leather thong that fastened his breeches. His cock sprang free, so pretty, so pink, and so perfect. It grew from a forest of dark curls, and then the end flared into a beautiful rounded head. A few drops of precum shone on the tip, and she craved one small taste.

  Meena nuzzled his legs f
arther apart, then stretched up on her knees. Her lips brushed the tip of his penis, and her tongue swirled though the clear juice.

  Leonidas groaned and clenched his jaw. “You’re exhausted. Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “Actually, you’re the one up for this.” She giggled and spiraled her tongue over the head of his dick. She’d never felt so strong, so powerful as she did when she pleased her stern-faced Fae. Tonight, it was her turn to move in slow motion. Another sweep of her tongue teased across his swollen tip. Her Fae had the sexiest growl, and if she did this right, he’d soon be growling again—for her.

  Her lips parted, and she surrounded him briefly, then withdrew. She repeated her actions thrice over, and she felt him tremble with need. Finally, she laved down the length of him. He tensed, fisted his hand in her hair, and tugged her closer.

  This time when her lips brushed his erection, she drew him deeper into her mouth. Her fangs scraped gently down his length. Then she sucked hard on his spicy flesh. His hips bucked, and she parted her lips so he could mouth fuck her deeper.

  He came with a bellow that echoed around the single-roomed hut, and sperm shot from his shaft like water from a high-pressure hose, spraying the back of her throat. She swallowed eagerly, taking everything he gave her and wanting more. She felt like Cleopatra or Helen of Troy at their seductive best. Considering her inexperience, tonight was a definite success—one she planned to repeat real soon. She wished the day’s trek hadn’t drained her so much, especially when she needed to march again tomorrow.

  Chapter Fifteen

  With Meena, sex was magnificent and moving—earth-shattering even. After screwing so many faceless women, Leonidas had felt jaded and cold. Then she opened his eyes to a world of love, sensation, and intimate pleasures. He’d rather cut out his heart than give her up—then he realized she was his heart, his soul, and his life.

  He lifted her in his arms and laid her in the nest of blankets and pillows. With a tender smile, he brushed a stray curl from her face. After the ecstasy she’d shown him earlier, he owed her an orgasm or five—only her eyes stayed shut, and her low-pitched humming slowed into rhythmic breathing.

  He’d do anything to make her happy, but she deserved a permanent lover, not a transient like him. He hated that, when his month was up, his curse would force him to leave her. He’d give anything to stay with her and let his curse run its course, but his beast might do her physical harm when it tried to move on and take another lover. Then again, suppose he broke her with his steaming passion? His father had killed a woman with endless pounding sex. Better if Leonidas moved on and ignored his feelings—just like a good unemotional Fae.

  He clutched her against his chest and swaddled the blanked around them. Too many secrets whirled through his brain for him to sleep—every one of them a reason for him to leave—and he desperately wanted to stay.

  In the morning, he’d tell her how his and Mordred’s lives intertwined, but he wouldn’t tell her he was King of the Fae…yet. She might turn as still and formal as his courtiers—all chill manners and touch-me-not barriers. He loved her soft, sexy moves and the way she stroked and caressed his skin—not to mention the oral sex. He’d definitely liked that. His cock strained at his trousers as he planned all the ways he’d pleasure her, but his curse reared up between them. If their roles were reversed—if the Witch Council had cursed her instead of him—he’d splinter inside each time she had sex with a stranger. Mine, his heart shrieked, forever and always—but he could never be solely hers.

  For now, all he could do was hold her and dream of a better future. Weary, he forced his mind to still and his body to rest. Tomorrow they’d catch up with the Elves, so he needed to keep his wits as sharp as his sword.

  * * * *

  Meena woke tucked into a warm masculine body. She’d never slept in a man’s arms before, but this felt so right. So good. Even after yesterday’s hike, Leonidas exuded chocolate and chili essence. Contentment crept into her heart. This morning was special, something to lock in her memories and pore over when she returned to her lonely life in Whitby. What had he said? No promises and no future. That still rankled—dug a hole in her heart more like—and she’d give anything to stay here in his arms forever. Her stomach rumbled and reminded her she hadn’t eaten since she shared her lunch with Lipstick, but that seemed like ages ago.

  She expected her body to ache and her feet to be sore. Instead, she overflowed with new energy and strength. Apparently being back in the otherworld suited her—as long as she avoided the Witches.

  Leonidas smiled—slow and sexy—and then he stretched like a cat. She wanted to fall onto his chest and lick his neck, taste it even. When she thought of closing her teeth around his nipple and sinking her fangs into his flesh, she almost orgasmed. Or puked. Veg-e-tar-i-an, remember?

  His lips shaped a soft mewl of protest. “I wanted to wake with my woman in my arms. Come back to bed, and I will repay the pleasure you gave me last night.”

  Hekate, that was tempting, but they had a convoy to catch and her mother to save. She bit her lip, torn between her need to love him and her need to press on.

  Leonidas stood up with liquid grace and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll take a kiss as down payment, but tonight—come what may—you’re mine.”

  She expected him to taste of morning breath and last night’s rubbery snake. When his mouth pressed against hers, he tasted all Leonidasy and wonderful—of chocolate, chili, and sex. She put her soul into her kiss, rubbing her pussy against his thigh. Her hips undulated in time with her lips, and she forgot everything except her need to love and possess.

  Their tongues dueled and danced, and the connection between them deepened. She needed him more than fresh air or food. She’d rather lose a limb than live without her supercilious, sexy Fae. He completed her, filled her with excitement and yearning, but she was a temporary amusement at best. Once he discovered her witchy origins, she was history. One look at her mother’s green-streaked hair, and he’d see the truth for himself. Maybe she should tell him now and get it over with. Or maybe she should stay silent; then she could enjoy what little time they had left.

  He’d told her up front she was nothing more than a one-night stand. Still, a girl could dream. No promises. No commitment. Remember? All he offered was hot sex, enough tears to fill an ocean, and a sheet of ice that would slowly encase her heart.

  Leonidas stretched—all beautiful, decadent male—and demanded, “Let me see your heel. You weigh next to nothing, and if it’s still sore, I’ll gladly carry you.”

  Compliments again? She might have Monroesque curves, but she constantly watched her weight. After all, who wanted to turn immortal with a bum as big as an outhouse? Even if she’d missed a meal, she was more curvy than svelte. Definitely not the “light as thistledown” type. There wasn’t a diet she hadn’t tried, or failed to stick to.

  With a sigh, she turned on her stomach and flicked up her legs. “My blister’s completely healed. See?”

  “Amazingly so,” he agreed before he searched the hut. He scavenged a canteen and even a rucksack. Meena drank until she thought she’d burst. “Will we catch them soon?”

  “Hard to say,” he answered slowly, “but they have a camp to set up, meals to cook, and men to muster. We will cover the ground faster than them.”

  She shuddered when he stuffed the remnants of last night’s snake kebabs into the rucksack. He filled the canteen, and that went in too. When they left the hut, Meena glanced around, but the ring of dead plants stretched wider than she remembered. Not that it mattered. It was time she got walking. Despite expecting her calves to cramp and her pumps to rub her sore heels, her step stayed fast and easy. Warrior-trained and experienced, Leonidas matched his pace to hers, but she set a relentless speed.

  By early evening, they spotted a column of weary Elves up ahead. Leonidas pulled Meena into the jungle. Meena figured it was because he knew the meat-eating flora wouldn’t mess with a plant killer like her.


  Leonidas grinned as petals fell like confetti and greenery blackened around them. “We’ll use your newly developed powers to cut a second route. That way we can stay close and stay out of sight.”

  Meena hated that her best skill was destroying plants. Despite the crappy turn her magic had taken, she smiled, “So what’s the plan?”

  He fell back into Spanish grandee mode—stern, arrogant, and commanding. “Once they’ve bedded down for the night, I’ll sneak in and snatch your mother. Your plant-clearing prowess makes you too valuable to risk. You will stay safely in the camp.”

  Furious that he thrust her into the poor-weak-woman role, she started to tell him, My mother, my way. He leaned toward her and caught her with her lips puckered and parted. His tongue swept into her mouth and gently caressed hers. When he pulled her hips up against his thighs, she moaned. Her resistance crumbled. Back where I belong, she thought, but how will I cope when he moves on? Her anger evaporated into passion and sensual desire, but so close to the Elves’ camp, they needed stealth more than sex.

  When they broke apart, Leonidas rested a hand on each of her shoulders. “I’d never willingly leave you behind, but if the Elves discover your powers, they’ll never rest until they control you.”

  The distant sound of the Elves setting up their camp drifted toward them. Meena winced when a woman’s scream cut through the air.

  Leonidas shoved her behind him. “Was that your mother?”

  The sound made her nerves jangle like when someone scraped their fingernails down a blackboard. Mouth dry, she rasped, “I don’t think so, but honestly, I’m not sure. Will they have other female prisoners?”

  “The usual pets, drudges, and sex slaves,” he told her, “never partners or true-mates. They’re chattels, beaten or punished if they step out of line. I would not like to think of an independent woman like you in their hands.”

  Another feminine scream, and Meena’s heart raced. The woman screamed again. An enraged masculine bellow followed. The plants stopped their constant rustling. Shoots of green and gold covered the ground at phenomenal speed, all heading toward fresh prey. Another high-pitched scream. Another angry roar.