Curse of the Fae King (Scattered Siblings)

by Kryssie Fortune

  Now Leonidas fought for his true-mate’s future—a win-at-all-costs battle. As Meena reluctantly followed the runaway inside, he considered the commander’s strengths. “You, Bryn, remember your oath, and keep your magic to yourself.”

  Oathbound and obedient, Bryn retreated behind the spell casters. Leonidas usually towered over his opponents, but the commander dwarfed him the way an elephant did a sleek panther. To command a squad, the man must be skilled, ruthless, and cruel—plus he outreached most of his opponents. He could thrust and kill before they reached him. But his belly was flabby and his bulk untoned. Maybe he relied too much on his brother’s magic and neglected the practice field.

  The commander drew his sword, bellowed, and charged. Leonidas spun out of reach. He ducked low and slashed at the backs of the Elf’s thighs—narrowly missing his hamstrings. Then he was back on his feet, keeping his distance and backing away from the hut. Another roar. Another rush. The battle moved farther from the center of the camp. The commander’s face glowed like a beetroot as the blood oozed from his wrist. Anger? Lack of stamina? Either suited Leonidas. A parry. A feint to the left. A slash to the right, and more blood flowed down the commander’s arm. Then Leonidas fell back again.

  The troopers formed a loose ring around the duel and encouraged their commander to maim and kill. Eager for victory, the giant commander rushed forward again.

  Leonidas stood his ground, arm extended. A flash of dark steel, a surprised cry, and a foot-long gash dripped blood down the commander’s thigh. Then Leonidas turned and ran.

  “Coward!” a trooper yelled.

  “Useless git,” another spat.

  “Stick it to him!” someone yelled.

  “Peel him like a bloody orange,” a fourth catcalled.

  The Elves took up the chant. “Peel him. Peel him. Peel him.”

  Leonidas stepped back again.

  Eager to claim Meena as his prize, the commander charged after him.

  A change of tactics. A crack of a bullwhip. A thin leather lash snaked its way around the commander’s legs.

  He toppled like a redwood and crashed into the ring of magic-fed flames.

  Hungry for real fuel, the fire devoured his flesh. As he blistered and burned, the spell casters stopped their chanting. The ring of fire around the camp died back.

  As Leonidas sheathed his rapier and re-coiled his bullwhip, he saw the drudges’ lips move, and the fire burned brighter. These women had more magic than the warriors knew, and they truly despised the sadistic commander.

  Fueled by the drudges’ magic, the flames rose up like an inferno. The commander’s shrieks rose higher. He clawed the ground. He tried to kick his way free, but his legs, bloody, blistered stumps, failed him. There was no escape. The smell of burning flesh—pungent, acrid, yet sickly sweet—hung over the camp. As the fire consumed him, his armor melted into silver pools that branded skin. His breastplate melted into his chest, and still he screamed. His flesh went next, revealing bone and sinew. And still his screams continued.

  Leonidas knew this was a time for punishment, not mercy—but his innards heaved at the stench. Finally the commander fell silent as the flames blackened and charred his bones. In life, he’d been a sadistic bully—but he’d died hard. Leonidas turned to the troopers. “Who’s next?”

  Bryn, the dead commander’s brother, ran to his side. He dropped to one knee before him. “They know better than to mess with you, my lord. You scored a great victory today, and they’d be fools not to swear their allegiance to you.”

  A murmur of assent ran around the camp, and the Elves prostrated themselves before him. “By the Elf overlord’s sacred blood,” they pledged as one, “we swear fealty to our new commander.”

  Leonidas knew their oaths were short-lived, but he placed one hand over his heart. “Accepted. My first command that is you feed your women and let them rest. Where is the prisoner you carried from the mundane world?”

  The troopers stared at the ground and shuffled their feet. Some edged away.

  Finally Bryn told him, “Lord Mordred himself rode out on a white stallion and carried her off to his stronghold. We’re to make our way there and rest up before we rejoin our brethren in the fire opal mines.”

  What made Elizabeth Sybil special enough for Mordred to collect her in person? And why were warrior Elves working the fire opal mines? Leonidas tried to make sense of that as he strode toward the wayfarer’s hut. Tonight wouldn’t be pleasant, but the Elves would expect to hear Meena’s punishment as well as her pleasure. And if he wanted to keep his command—and keep their disgusting hands off Meena—he had to make it so. Most of all, though, he worried about how Meena reacted to the sex potion she’d downed.

  * * * *

  The hut smelled of pine needles, but with no windows or lights, the utter darkness filled Meena with dread. A knot of fear twisted in her guts. Leonidas had warned her to act submissive, but she’d charged in without thinking. Her moment’s bravado might cost more than she was willing to pay. Her lover? Her body? Her life?

  The runaway fumbled with a flint, then lit a solitary candle. “Lord Mordred uses this place when he rides out to hunt. You’re lucky there’s a bedroom and a comfortable four-poster bed. Sometimes they bind us facedown over a table or fallen log. They gather around and mock us as the drug makes us writhe and beg.”

  Meena almost retched. Everything she learned about the Elves made her hate them more. “That potion. What was it?”

  “Distilled musk taken from a female rat as she comes into season,” her companion whispered.

  “Randy rat juice?” Meena spluttered. “And I drank it.”

  A second woman entered, carrying short lengths of rope. “And soon, just like an animal in heat, you will burn for the touch of a man.”

  Everything was happening so fast. Meena’s skin felt hot…so hot. She needed to be stroked, caressed, and loved. Fucked, more like. Sensation overwhelmed her. Everything felt more intense—especially the heat pulsing in her womb. The room spun around her. Her breasts felt heavy and pendulous—throbbing even. Her nipples puckered into pink beads that needed to be licked or sucked.

  Still she told the women, “Leonidas. I only burn for Leonidas.”

  Both women shook their heads, and the runaway took hold of Meena’s hand. “The potion makes you need to be fucked like never before. Everything feels more, bigger, and if the commander’s in a bad mood, you’ll pray for the night to end. The potion make makes your sexual hunger insatiable, but it lowers your pain threshold. Every nonsexual touch hurts like you wouldn’t believe.”

  The other woman spoke so low, Meena strained to hear. “Better if we bind your wrists to the bed.” The runaway nodded her agreement. “Otherwise you will roam the camp and perform any sexual act the warriors demand.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And they are not kind.”

  Meena swallowed hard. That softly spoken “not kind” reverberated with pain, sorrow, and bitter experience. She wanted to run and never look back, but her pussy demanded Leonidas’s tender touch. Warmth spread out from her belly, and a hunger that had nothing to do with food burned within her. When she dropped the remnant of her top to the floor, the cool evening air teased her nipples. She wanted out of the rough denim and into her lover’s arms, but she still worried about her mother. “The other prisoner, did they do this to her?”

  “Lie on the bed and spread your arms,” the second woman told her.

  Meena wasn’t ready to submit yet. “That woman, she’s my mother. What did they do to her?”

  “Nothing…yet,” the runaway answered, then bit her lip and fell silent.

  The second woman took up the tale. “Lord Mordred came for her in person. He’d sworn to kill any man who touched her, but the commander wanted to. We could see it in his eyes. I think that’s why he demanded your man give you up to him.”

  Thank Hekate and her hounds her mother was safe—so far. Right now, other concerns filled Meena’s thoughts, driving her libido into to
p gear. Strange sexual appetites swamped her body, and she wanted Leonidas’s mouth on her clit or his cock in her pussy. Maybe she’d offer her breasts to his lips and let him suck on her nipples. Maybe she’d suck on his. Desire fogged her brain, and she stopped thinking only of Leonidas. Suddenly any man would do, as long as he sated the sensual fire burning in her cunt.

  “Lie down and stop fighting the potion,” the second woman instructed.

  Meena so didn’t want to do this, but better to let them bind her ready for Leo than flaunt her body at random Elves. Lots of Elves. Lots of lovers. Maybe even enough to satisfy the ache in her pussy. If she could just rub her cunt against them or suck on their cocks, she’d—

  Sweet Hekate, no! What was she thinking? She slid her ruined jeans down her legs, then tossed them across the room. Her panties followed. Glad to be rid of her clothes, she moaned softly as the women tied her arms to the bedposts. These feelings were wrong on every level, but the slow simmer deep in her womb still made her pant and writhe.

  She lay naked and vulnerable, spread-eagled like a sensual feast. Her breasts throbbed. Her nipples ached. Her pussy pulsated with unfulfilled need. Her body demanded fucking. Right now.

  She was a sexual temptress, a predator ready to pounce on the first man who came her way. Lost in drug-induced desire, she thrashed her head over the pillow. She moaned, low and loud, as she spasmed and squirmed—desperate for the victor to fuck her.

  Outside, the screaming started.

  The women blew out the candle and left her alone in the dark. Hekate, that couldn’t be Leonidas—could it? Someone was in a whole heap of pain. And what the hell was keeping the victor when she needed to get laid? Finally she heard the outer door open and close. She didn’t care that she was naked and defenseless. She just wanted the victor to screw her hard and fast. Or maybe slow and easy. Perhaps both. In her best dreams, he brought a friend.

  Her raging hormones didn’t care as long as someone relieved the burning need between her legs. Another wave of desire hit her, shooting fresh longings to her sensitized nerve endings. Her need blossomed into pain—intense, clear, and sharp. She trembled. She needed. She wanted. Goddess, if she didn’t come soon, she’d explode. She heard a flint strike, and a candle cast eerie shadows across the entry room.

  In the name of the collective covens, I’m in here. Get a move on. Please.

  The scent of chocolate and chili assailed her, and then Leonidas strode to her side. Face stern, he spun on his heel and shoved a chair against the door handle. He moved to the bed, towering over her as he stared at her face through the flickering candlelight. He frowned as, back arched, hips rolling, she demanded, “Don’t just stand there. Fuck me.”

  She inhaled when he bent and sucked one rounded nipple, then sighed, moaned, and puffed up her chest. His tongue swept ever decreasing circles around her breast. All the while, he rolled her other nipple between his finger and thumb.

  Meena’s head writhed, and her hips thrashed. Her curls spread in multicolored spirals over the bed. “You’re wearing too many clothes. You can’t fuck me if you’re covered in black leather.”

  He pulled back and grasped her chin in one hand, stilling her head and staring into her eyes. “Querida, I want you willing—not drugged into a sensual frenzy.”

  “And I want you inside me. Now.” She was demanding, desperate, and burning with so many desires. And all of them ended with someone screwing her. Anyhow, anyway—as long as he plunged his dick inside her.

  Leonidas heaved a mock sigh. “The things I do for love.”

  She groaned when he released her chin, but he claimed her lips with a kiss that made her drugged-up libido spin out of control. She wanted. She needed. She burned. She shouted, “Damn it. Fuck me now.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Leonidas loomed over her and caught his breath. She looked beautiful, naked with her hair curled like a raven’s wing over the pillow—so black it seemed iridescent as it gleamed with rainbow highlights. Her breasts bounced as she rolled and thrashed. With her legs tied wide open, he could see the hot cream pooling in her pussy. Elves’ blood, he was proud of her, besotted by her even. Even her earlier bravado had sparked nothing but respect in his heart. She lay before him like a feast he couldn’t wait to taste, only later… Well, he wouldn’t think about later. Impatient to bed her, he drew his dagger and slashed the ropes around her ankles.

  Tears filled her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was a throaty rasp that sent sensual shivers down his spine. “No time. Need you inside me now.”

  He dropped the dagger at the side of the bed and knelt between her legs. “Querida, I live to please.”

  “Hard and deep,” she begged as she squirmed and lifted her hips—her arms still spread wide.

  Her heather and wild herb scent washed over him, and he hardened instantly. One breath, one look, and his balls ached. Sweat beaded on his brow. He’d fuck her, satisfy her, then fuck her again after he’d—No, not thinking about that yet. He remembered the Kama Sutra his father had bequeathed him, and raised her legs. “Ankles together, knees against your chest.”

  “Just fuck me,” she pleaded.

  He lifted her legs higher and landed a playful slap on her butt. She grimaced and clenched her jaw as the sound echoed around the wayfarer’s hut and mingled with her breathless moans. Then he held her ankles and pressed her knees into her chest. Helpless beneath him, she panted and begged. “Leo, please.”

  Her body lay open and inviting, her liquid honey gleaming in her cunt. The need to lick and taste assailed him, but his Meena burned for sex—and he definitely wasn’t going to deny her any comfort he could give.

  With a wicked grin, he felt his Fae coolness evaporate into steaming heat and molten desires. Like her, he needed…forever, but all they had was the here and now. He’d fuck her all night if that was what it took to ease her pain. And would he enjoy it? You bet your ass he would. He leaned forward, gently curling her beneath him as he fingered her clit. Then he edged his hips beneath her raised thighs.

  Helpless, she moaned for more. He teased the tip of his cock inside her, and she held her breath. He meant to take her slowly, to stoke the pleasure the drug sparked inside her, but her hungry groan robbed him of his self-control.

  He thrust his dick inside her, hard—penetrating her cream-filled folds.

  Meena almost wept with frustration. “All of you. Inside me. Please.”

  As hot for her as she was for him, he slammed his cock inside her, pumping deeper than he ever had before.

  Tied down and unable to move, she trembled beneath him. Her breath came in She panted in quick, eager gasps. “More. I need more.”

  Fresh desire hit him. Drugged up or not, his woman craved him in every way. His delight was to please her. Her vagina tightened and pulsed around his penis—milking him over and over. Sperm shot from his cock as she moaned again. Finally, he pulled her hips closer and thrust with every ounce of strength he possessed.

  Leonidas hadn’t known he cared about one tiny woman so much. Shoulders back, he reveled in the way he’d loved her until she screamed his name as she came. But damn it, the Elves listened outside.

  Her pleasured moans would have sparked a million ribald comments—but they expected him to punish as well as pleasure her. Oathbound to him or not, they’d revolt if they didn’t hear her scream with pain. He should explain or ask her to shriek, but that potion stole her wits and filled her with another wave of yearning. For sex—and not necessarily with him. Whatever he said or did, she wouldn’t listen until he’d fucked her into exhaustion.

  “How do you feel now?” he asked as he withdrew and massaged her feet.

  She sighed as he let her straighten her legs. “Sated and weary, but I’m starting to need you inside me again.”

  “First, querida”—his eyes narrowed, and his aloof Fae mask slipped back into place—“you disobeyed me. I asked you to stay subservient should we meet any Elves. Thanks to your impulsive nature, I’ve d
efeated one warrior and killed another, but what if things had turned out different? Would you have fucked that scarred commander as eagerly?”

  Meena’s eyes widened in disbelief. “And you say this now. Goddess, Leo, my cunt feels like it’s on fire. Look, if it’s too soon for you to get a hard-on again, cut me loose, and I’ll find an Elf to satisfy me.”

  “Mine.” He fumed, but rather than fuck her, he turned his back and straddled her waist. He pulled her legs up to his shoulders and spanked her ass. Her scream rang out long and loud, but no matter how she squirmed and twisted, she couldn’t free her arms. Another slap, a longer shriek, so high and distressed that it curdled his soul. Her butt turned as fiery, as hot as her drug-induced passion. A third, and she gave a full-on scream that echoed through the night.

  “Louder,” he commanded and spanked her again. She couldn’t see his gritted teeth or the tears as they welled up in his eyes. He hated treating her like this. Elves’ blood, he lived to cosset and protect her, but this was the only way to keep her safe.

  Meena wept. “It hurts, Leo, really hurts. The drug…the pain… Oh Goddess, I’m sorry. Enough. Please!”

  That break in her voice shattered his heart, but he couldn’t stop. Not with Elves listening outside. A fifth slap on her ass, and she yelled again. A sixth made her scream and curse. Helpless, arms spread-eagled, legs on his shoulders, she swore and screamed as he beat a tattoo on her butt.

  Finally she fell silent, her defiance a tangible force that stilled his hand. His woman had backbone, and now that the nightmare interlude was over, he knew just how to soothe her pain. When he moved aside, she scorched him with an I’ll-kill-you-later look. He kissed each cheek, tasting her tears as his guilt balled like a hand grenade in his belly. Okay, he’d made her scream, but not in a good, sexy way. The only upside was how her screams spread though the camp and won him a place in their Elf legends. His command, and more importantly his woman, was safe. There’d be no more killing or duels, but Meena’s unforgiving gaze shattered something inside him. He raised his voice so loud Elves outside could hear. “You will learn, and you will obey me; otherwise, I’ll have you whipped and passed around like a whore.”