by S. A. Parker
A Lover’s Worth
Spawn of Darkness
S. A. Parker
A Lover’s Worth (Spawn of Darkness Series)
Copyright © S. A. Parker, all rights reserved.
This series is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to characters and situations is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Created with Vellum
Contents
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Review
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Spawn of Darkness Series
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
First and foremost, Dell is a sex slave. Some of the situations that occur in the Spawn of Darkness Series are brutal, but integral to her character development and the story arc. The circumstances she finds herself in are confronting and not for the faint of heart.
This is book three in the four-part Spawn of Darkness series and cannot be read as a standalone. It features a strong, albeit mentally shattered female lead, and four protective High Fae Gods who will do everything in their power to protect her.
It is a slow burn reverse harem romance with sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language, sex slavery, explicit sexual content, graphic torture scenes and violence. It contains content which some readers will find triggering and is intended for a mature audience aged eighteen years and over.
Blurb
She’s not the woman they thought she was.
Dell’s Sun Gods will strip her soul bare in an attempt to understand the woman they have come to care for, revealing the rot festering within—the shadows staining her insides, plaguing her, torturing her in ways more sinister than the lifetime of abuse she’s endured.
They won’t give up on her, even when it’s clear the fragments of Dell are too scattered to piece back together.
She’s a broken, beautiful disaster.
She’s the woman who could change the world.
But there’s a dam inside her, threatening to burst …
Spawned from the darkness, her beast is ready to play.
For Mum and Nana.
Thank you for showing me the true value of a woman’s worth.
Chapter One
The ocean laps at my toes, sending shivers scuttling up my legs, spine, shoulder blades, through my wings then all the way to their tips. They lift, tossing themselves about in a frenzied jitter, sending sand and water raining about me.
My gaze narrows, watching the droplets fall to the ground in slow motion. They splatter, the sound like a faint beat of a distant drum, my ears flicking with the pitter-patter that my Lesser Fae hearing would never have picked up on.
I draw a deep whiff of air, the distinct tang of brine potent, tickling my overly sensitive nostrils.
Drake clears his throat, bringing my attention back to the four pairs of feet half smothered in sand, the tiny grains like a natural kaleidoscope of nature born particles.
I peek up at my Sun Gods through the mesh of salty, unruly hair smothering my face, noting their expressions have gone from shocked to positively outraged … their scents churning into something sharp and robust—the smell of anger, much more discernible now that my supreme senses have been restored.
“The white feather was yours?” Sol asks, in a voice laced with a feral undertone.
The one from my box …
No point hiding it now, it’s pretty bloody obvious.
I nod, pulling myself into a crouching position, marvelling at the feel of sand dragging along my excessively sensitive skin, my wings draped like a blanket behind me.
“Fucking hell …” Kal scrubs at his face, shaking his head, as if he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing. “And that bottle of shit that almost knocked us out? That was from the bog we just threw you in, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” I chide, doing my best to cover my lady bits.
Seems likely though, they both smell like arse. A label on the vial would have been nice. I certainly wouldn’t have been against smearing the goo on my tender vagina after a hard day of fuckery, despite the foul smell.
“You don’t want to talk about this right now?” Kal barks, gaze narrowing, making my hackles rise.
“No, I don’t.” Mainly because I’m not ready to give answers … and I’m pretty sure I can no longer lie.
“No, Dell, you can’t lie,” Aero snaps.
One of the downsides of being High Fae. Fuck it.
Aero’s looking at me like I just broke some sort of peace treaty.
“Are you angry at me?”
His face twitches, eyes losing their molten hue, pupils expanding. “I think I need some space right now.” He takes a step back, muscles clenching, hands raised. But then he’s suddenly suspended mid-step.
I look accusingly at Sol who’s about fifteen shades of fucked off—face red, fists clenched, nostrils flared as he takes in my wings blanketing the sand.
Yikes.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Sol scolds in a booming voice. I’m not sure why he’s so pissed off, we’ve got all of eternity to sweep shit under the rug now that I’ve got my immortality-giving wings back.
Looking over my shoulder, I gesture towards the wings splayed hopelessly behind me. “What, these old things?”
Damn. They’re really fucking white … how the hell am I going to wing my way out of this one?
Exhaling a dramatic sigh, I return my attention to the angry ring of Sun Gods. “Look. If we could just, like ... pretend they don’t exist for a while? That would be really great.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” they all bellow at once.
Tough crowd. My wings bounce out of the sand and curl around me, creating a tight little Dell cocoon. I look down at them, frowning. “I think you scared them …”
Drake takes a step forward, his penis looking really excited to see my wings—like it’s trying to reach out and touch my pretty white feathers all on its own. It almost makes up for his expression, which tells a different story entirely. “Dell, you need to be very fucking honest with us right now, okay?”
I shake my head, because I can’t lie. Fuck it. “No can do, sorry.”
Fuck you, Honesty Wings.
Drake frowns, jamming his fists into the pockets of his bog splattered pants.
Call me stubborn—but screw it. They dragged my dying body to the bog. They threw me in the fucking ocean. Just because they want answers, doesn’t mean I’m ready to give them fucking answers. They should know better than to push me. After everything, they should damn well trust me.
“Don’t make me do this,” Aero pleads, and that piques my interest. I flash a look at my Dawn God and confirm, he’s watching Sol with wide eyes, pupils dilated. What the hell is he scared of? He’s the God of Dawn! He’s not the one with massive, white motherfucking wings that he can’t tug in and are likely going to gain some seriously unwanted attention.
But he’s watching Sol … who’s watching me, studying my wing cocoon.
“I have to. We don’t know if we can trust her.”
Okay, my senses are tingling. I pull myself to a standing position, which happens in an explosive torrent, because I’m all swift and immortal now.
I’m poised, preparing to throw myself into that ocean—which i
s a terrible idea now that I really think about it. I have wings to consider, and I’ve just proven I’m no graceful swan.
“Drake, I need you to hold her.” Sol’s voice has a gravel undertone and his gaze darts between me, standing here like a feathery sausage, and Dusk. “It’s taking most of my current will to hold Aero in place, and I don’t want her hurting herself. I doubt she realises how easy it is to damage her wings.”
He’s really fucking wrong there.
I uncurl my wings dramatically, almost knocking out my Night God in the process. I can sense this situation is about to evolve into something I don’t want to be a part of. Ever.
I make it about three swift steps towards the shack, where I figure I’ll be able to find something to use as a weapon against these bastards, when I realise Drake isn’t following me. I look over my shoulder to see him standing next to Kal, who’s rubbing the side of his head from the assault of my errant wing.
Drake’s arms are crossed and he’s shaking his head at Sol. “Do your own dirty work, fucker. I’d rather fish the information out of her with the promise of orgasms.”
I fist pump the air. Drake might just earn back his rights of entry to my pert little flower pot. He certainly deserves a gold vagina star for that.
I hurtle towards the shack, but my glory is short lived when I’m blinded momentarily by a flash of white and Sol’s standing in front of me, holding out a billowing white sheet, probably from the bed inside the shack. That asshole is fast.
He looks like he has a score to settle, and unfortunately not between my legs.
My wings spontaneously rustle about, fluffing themselves up and getting their pretty on. What the actual fuck? These things have a mind of their own!
Sol’s gaze widens as he observes their erratic behaviour. He raises a brow, before shaking his head and grabbing me by the shoulders.
I hiss, even though my wings are still doing their little fluff dance. “Let me the fuck go, Sol!” I jerk against his grip but gain no purchase.
He spins me so I’m facing the others, stepping over my wings while awkwardly wrapping me in the sheet. I appreciate the small act of kindness to protect my modesty, even if I’m tempted to throw my leg backwards and hook the fucker in the balls.
“Stop fighting me.” Sol ties the blanket into a clunky knot at my breasts, tugging firmly then double knotting it. His hands skim my peaked nipples in the process, which are almost unbearably sensitive now, sending a jolt of warmth straight between my legs. The air about us fills with the sweet scent of my arousal, and all around me, nostrils flare.
A little bit of distractive group sex with my pissed off Sun Gods wouldn’t go astray right now. I throw them a hopeful wink. “How about you drop this, and we all get naked? You can even take turns spanking me if you like …”
Yeah, okay. I’m fucking desperate.
It’s not my proudest moment.
Sol’s arms tighten. I sink into his muscular frame, lower back pressed against …
Holy Day God!
“Don’t fucking tempt me,” he whispers, lips skimming my ear. “Right now, I would not be gentle. You’re not ready for that. Yet.”
Fucking gulp.
“Keep still, I’m going to pull your wings in and I don’t want to hurt you.” He runs his fingers along the upper curve of my right wing.
Goddamn, that feels incredible.
I groan, sagging against him, my wings yielding beneath his touch. Fucking traitors. I’ve been parted from them for nineteen years and they’re relinquishing themselves to Sol without my permission? Who do they think they are? I hope they get along well with my vagina, because they’re on a direct path straight to the sin bin.
“That’s my girl …” Delicately, he folds them behind me, pressing them against my back. He’s being so fucking gentle about it, letting his hands slowly trail over some of the more sensitive spots that literally make my eyes roll into the back of my head. I press further into his chest, trying to resist the urge to grind my aching love nest against his engorged manhood …
“I wish I wasn’t so mad at you right now.” He almost sounds sorry.
There’s only one reason why Sol would be speaking that way—it means he has something truly hideous planned.
That sobers me right the hell up.
“What are you doing, Sol?”
He wraps his arms all the way around me, tightening his hold and trapping my wings against my body, rendering me useless.
My pulse quickens. Sweat beading on my forehead, I jerk against his hold.
“I’m sorry in advance.”
Shit.
Growling, Aero uncurls from his statue stance, moving slowly, stoically, as if he’s fighting against his body’s desires. He paces towards me, eyes as black as my soul.
No …
I kick out, trying to break free. Sol lifts me off the ground, so I’m hanging like a feathery little doll. I writhe and twist but it’s useless, the man behind me is too strong. He’s built for war, I’m built for the whore house. Big fucking difference.
“Don’t do this! Please!”
Kal’s curled over himself—hands wrapped around his head and I can see the conflict on Drake’s face. I’m not against prying my way between a crack when I see it. “Drake, please …”
His face twitches, but that’s about it. That’s when I realise, he’s not moving … at all.
Sol and his overpowered fucking compulsion!
“I’m not a spy!” The shrill voice doesn’t sound like my own.
“I hope not, but I can’t risk it. I need to know for myself.”
Where’s my beast when I need her?
“Some things are unforgivable, Sol! This is one of them!”
His arms tighten further. “You’ve left me no choice.”
“Forgive me …” I don’t miss the way Aero’s voice cracks on the last word, his hands coming to rest around my head.
I feel the full force of Aero’s power crash into my subconscious.
Motherfucker.
Chapter Two
My eyes roll, mind bucking against the searing vice clamped around my conscience—like a gnarled hand clawing through my memories in a messy, frenzied attempt to sieve through the most hidden parts of me … prying at doors that have long been shut.
I bellow at the invasion, scream at it, do everything in my power to keep those doors closed.
It’s no use.
One by one, the doors fly open while I scramble to keep up, fumbling over myself in my desperate plea.
The force enters, stabbing at my conscience, then retreats—like a blade being tugged from a wound, moving to the next while I stagger after it, screaming for it to look no further. For the pain to stop.
It reaches a trapdoor that’s hidden in a corner; shaded in cobwebs and shadow, the handle dusty from lack of use.
I stumble forward, gasping, the scent of fear tainting my senses. “No … no, not that one, please!” I fling myself across it, sprawled, blocking the way as the door begins to rattle …
I groan, claws embedding themselves into the fleshy meat of my mind.
“Enough! I’m hurting her!” Aero’s voice slices through my conscience, attempts to soothe the agony, and fails.
“Is this the memory she pushed you out of when she was at the Dawn Kingdom? We’re not stopping until we have the rest.” Sol’s command is firm, final.
Damning.
“Fucking hell! Yes, it’s the same fucking memory!”
The force thickens, the pain becoming unbearable …
No …
“Sol …” I sob, spreading myself further across the trapdoor, trying to placate the rattle. “Please stop, please! I’m begging you. Please don’t do this to me …” My voice is weak, decaying.
I’m hauled out of the way, pushed to the side, the trapdoor lugged open, releasing a bright shaft of light.
I recoil at the scene now settling before me, a place I once knew—small, simple, bright …
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Home.
There’s a woman, her back to me, with a giggling pile of blanket and limbs nestled in her arms.
She tosses it onto the bed.
“No … Sol, please!”
It’s useless.
I’m flung into my four-year-old body, tumbling out of the blanket, my laughter mingling with that of my mother’s—warm and melodic, trickling out of us in waves.
There’s the sound of fabric ripping, my tiny white wings pushing through the freshly mended seams holding the back of my dress together, doing their little happy dance.
They always used to do that. I was never able to control them.
Mum’s laughter fades and her expression becomes serious. She drops onto the bed next to me. “Adeline, honey, you need to keep them in.”
I look over my shoulder at the puffs of white stretching themselves wide, enjoying their newfound freedom. “It’s hard, Mummy. I can’t stop them. And I like having them out … it feels so good.”
She sits me up and holds my shoulders, hooking my attention. The scent of her uneasiness fills my nostrils. “It’s not safe, darling. Your wings won’t keep you safe, not until you’re much older.”
“Because my Daddy’s a bad man?” I ask, cocking my head to the side and fiddling with the hem of my simple linen dress. It’s covered in flour, and still holds the smell of the scones we baked for breakfast.
Mum nods. “A very bad man. Adeline, you can’t trust anyone but me, do you understand?”
I frown at her, pouting. “You never let me see other people. All we do is swim in the lake at night and do home things. You never take me to town with you to get supplies …”