by Sofia Daniel
“Four seasonal courts.” He settled between the branches. “But there are weather courts, shadow courts, temporal courts, and animal courts. Most of their leaders are residing in the Otherworld these days.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“King Oberon.” The cat stretched his front legs up a branch and dug his nails into the bark. “Well, he was a prince at the time. He and a group of rebels led the outsiders up here and created a barrier of magic. Then outsiders sprayed that stuff they use to make poison fog—”
“Iron salt?” I stared up into the tree, wondering what an earth McVittie was doing.
“That’s the one. Well, while the outsiders weakened the faeries with that awful stuff, King Oberon and his friends transformed everyone present in the High Council.”
“Into what?”
“Put it this way.” McVittie parted his jaws into a long, relieved gasp. It was the kind of noise men made when peeing against the wall outside the pub. “This tree was the wretched faerie who cursed my mother to give birth to a cat.”
I turned in a circle, examining the twisted patterns on the trunks. “They’re all faeries.”
“Yup.”
“How can he be sure the enchantment will last?” I asked.
“Too much time has passed.” McVittie grunted. “Even if these poor sods got turned back into faeries, they’d still think they were trees.”
My brows drew together. McVittie had been born a kitten and had now spent just as much time as a cat as the High Council had been trees. Didn’t that mean he would also become an old man who thought he was a cat?
“Come on, then.” He jumped down, scattering pieces of leaf litter.
I followed him out of the dark woods into a sun-lit meadow and down a steep valley. A wide stream gurgled beside us, spraying droplets of cold water. On our other side stood a familiar-looking forest.
My brows drew together. “I think I’ve been here before.”
“Maybe down this stretch of water,” said the cat from my side, “But definitely not where we’re going.”
“Are you taking me to some kind of hideout?”
“You could say that,” McVittie replied with a chuckle.
We continued along the river, where fish with scales of each color of the rainbow leaped out from the stream and blew iridescent bubbles into the air. The clip-clop of hooves reached my ears, and I glanced into the adjacent forest for signs of centaurs.
“Scared?” asked McVittie.
“I thought I heard someone.” Wrapping my arms around my middle, I let my gaze wander into the trees. There was no centaur and no attacking wood sprites.
“You should focus on the task at hand, young lady.” The cat hurried ahead and disappeared into the long grass.
“If you’d tell me what we were doing, maybe I’d be able to focus.” I hurried after McVittie.
“Trees have ears, and so do blades of grass.”
With a huff, I rolled my eyes. McVittie was much like Flora—sometimes prickly but with good intentions. I could trust him because he was family, and he had a stake in my success. If I didn’t get those princes out from Lady Gala’s clutches, I would never get the wishbone, and McVittie would remain forever a cat.
As we reached a point where the stream ran down a hill, McVittie whispered, “Here we are.”
“Where?”
I stared into the water, and something with an equine face stared back. A jolt of panic had me clutching at my heart, but I didn’t fall back or stagger.
My adventure with that kelpie had taught me that every monster had a weakness. It was only a matter of identifying it and using that weakness to your advantage.
“Lie down and crawl on your belly,” whispered the cat.
Without a word, I lowered myself onto the damp grass and crawled alongside the stream. After several minutes, it curved down into another waterfall, which ended in a pristine, blue pool that reflected the color of the sky.
“Shhh.” The cat settled beside me and pointed his paw down into the water.
I stared into the pool, trying to see what was so special about it, but a second later, a blond head emerged from the water with a splash.
My mouth fell open, not at the wet, golden hair that glistened in the morning sun, but at the tanned, muscular body that came with such a vision. The male’s hair cascaded down to broad shoulders, a toned back, and buttocks that looked hard enough to crack nuts.
“This isn’t quite the source of the Summer Court,” whispered McVittie, “But Prince August likes to bathe here before classes.”
A hard pulse reverberated between my eardrums, which matched the one pounding between my legs. I swallowed hard, not daring to speak in case the words came out too loud.
Prince August dove back into the water, treating us both to a magnificent view of his tight, hard ass. Saliva pooled in my mouth, but that was nothing compared to what was pooling in my pantalettes.
McVittie sniffed the air. “Good girl. That’s the type of faerie you want for mating.”
I flicked the cat on the ear, making him skitter to the side. “Will you stop sniffing me, you bloody pervert?”
“Charming.” McVittie had the nerve to sound upset. “I’ll leave you alone to your musings, then.”
A hundred protests rose to the back of my throat. They were mostly questions about why we had come here, what made McVittie think Prince August wouldn’t attack as soon as he saw me, and how on earth he thought I could mate with the faerie who had most wanted me dead. However, anything I was about to say evaporated into the ether when Prince August resurfaced.
He pulled back his blond hair, making the muscles in his back bunch. Closing his eyes, he turned his beautiful head up to the sun and flopped backward to float on the water’s surface.
I didn’t look at his broad shoulders or his perfect collarbones. Nor did I look at his prominent pecs, defined six-pack, or strong quadriceps. No. My gaze zoomed in on the beautiful thick erection protruding from a nest of golden pubes.
“Fucking hell.” The words left my mouth in a shaky whisper.
It wasn’t just the huge prick. Prince August’s balls were perfect spheres of manhood that I longed to suck into my mouth. Droplets of water glistened over them like diamonds, making me fully understand the term, ‘crown jewels.’
Prince August spread out one well-muscled arm and paddled his wrist to keep afloat. Then his legs parted, and he cupped those delectable balls.
A shudder made a slow trail down my spine and settled between my legs, making everything down there quiver. “Oh.”
After playing with those balls, he wrapped his hand around that massive shaft and gave it a long, firm stroke.
Palpitations reverberated through my chest. All the moisture left my throat and traveled to my pulsing, twitching core. Watching Prince August pump himself set my skin aflame with the heat of a thousand fire ants. If I didn’t do something about this now, I would self-combust.
Positioning my head over the ledge, I raised my hips and slipped my hand into my borrowed breeches.
My fingers slipped between my sopping folds as I imagined what it would be like to wrap my lips around that thick, tanned dick. I circled my clit in time with Prince August’s steady, pumping fist and pictured myself in the water between his muscular thighs. His chest rose and fell with each excited breath, only adding to my arousal.
“Take it,” he growled.
My tongue darted out to lick my lips. Who on earth was he talking about?
Pleasure surged around my clit, building the pressure near breaking point. I lifted my finger off my pulsing nub and caught my breath. As soon as the pleasure ebbed, I rubbed the sensitive ball of nerves with lighter strokes.
Prince August groaned, the sound low and deep enough to cause my core muscles to flutter. I clenched my teeth, bit down hard on my lip, and urged myself to stay quiet. Right now, with him splayed out on the water like a buffet of manhood, all memories of his dickish personality van
ished, replaced with my desire to ride that huge prick.
No—I would suck him first. Swirl my tongue around that engorged head and lick the precum streaming out from its tip. My fingers ran a slow path up and down, back and forth over my clit, which had swelled and somehow become even more sensitive.
“Take it all!” He gave himself a series of hard tugs.
A gasp slipped from my throat, and my fingers dipped into the molten wetness between my folds. Was he talking about me? Lady Gala wasn’t the type of female who would want, let alone could take a hard pounding. In this fae body with its rigid maidenhead, neither was I, but it was lovely to imagine.
Prince August sped up his strokes, and his moans filled the air, the sound scaring the birds out of their trees. Every fiber of my being urged me to jerk forward, to tumble into that water, and take control of his pleasure.
I rubbed my clit harder, sending sparks of pleasure up to my core, which pulsed and squeezed, eager for that huge cock. My ears rang with the sounds of Prince August, and my vision narrowed to his heaving chest, his quivering abs, the fist flying over his erection.
My strokes matched his, and for a moment, I was down there with him, letting him build me to a frenzy that had me gasping and moaning.
“Yes!” Prince August said between clenched teeth.
“Oh, yes,” I whispered back.
A mix of sweat and juices soaked my pantalettes, but I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on my pleasure. It swirled and built around my clit and core intensifying until the pleasure spilled over into a series of spasms and waves that had me shaking and moaning.
Prince August’s handsome face twisted, and his roar filled the air. Jets and jets of pearly, white fluid coated his tight abs, his prominent chest, some of it even reaching his chin, and I continued rubbing myself in time with the slowing fist pumping his still-hard erection.
By the time my climax ebbed to gentle waves of ecstasy, I wholeheartedly agreed with McVittie’s plan to capture Prince August. That sight had been better than anything I’d seen on a porn DVD and twice as satisfying.
“McVittie?” I whispered through panting breaths. “Where are you?”
The cat didn’t answer. He was probably still annoyed with me for flicking him on the ear. I owed him the biggest, most groveling apology.
A yellow butterfly flew across my face, its wings a similar pattern to Prince August’s, which I took as a good omen.
I let out several deep breaths and tried to slow my frantic heart. Not only did I need Prince August’s spunk to complete my power, but I also wanted to suck that thick cock until it exploded in my mouth.
Chapter 5
Sweat beaded on my brow, and the morning sun warmed my back. With the greatest of reluctance, I pulled my fingers out from my pantalettes and wiped the moisture on the grass.
I continued lying on that ledge with my head dangling over the edge, waiting to see if Prince August would do anything else, but he only splashed water over the streams of cum covering his front and then swam to the edge of the water.
“Ogled enough?” asked a snide voice from behind.
Ignoring the irritated cat, I remained in place, watching Prince August climb onto the bank. As he spread his arms wide, rivulets of water ran down the contours of that strong, muscular body.
I suppressed a moan. It didn’t matter that the faerie was an asshole who had plotted against me at every point. I was going to find a way to absorb some of his magic and become strong enough to rescue my mates.
Somewhere along the way, I hoped to win him over, but I pushed the details to one side for now.
“Tear yourself away,” said the cat. “We’ve got things to do.”
Vapor rose from the prince’s golden hair and skin, and the force of his magic reached me from my hiding place. My tongue darted out to lick my lips as I imagined running it over every inch of that delectable body.
“Unity!” McVittie snapped.
“Huh?” I turned to meet the cat’s furious, yellow eyes and gulped. “Right. Did you say you had a plan?”
He snorted. “You would have learned it by now if you hadn’t been so rude.”
Annoyance tightened my skin. “It’s bad manners to smell people and even worse to make comments on what you find.”
McVittie padded toward the trees. “That’s the trouble with you humans. Always acting above us animals, even though everyone knows you mate just as much as us.”
Pulling myself to my feet, I watched the cat slink through the tall grass. Did McVittie know he’d just identified with being an animal?
“Come along,” he said. “Stage two of our plan is approaching.”
I glanced down at the pool, and Prince August was gone. He had probably returned to the Royal Tower to get ready for a day at the academy with his brothers.
A pang of longing struck my chest. What on earth could Lady Gala have done to them in the months I’d been stuck in that dream?
Images of the wretched, platinum-haired faerie floated to the forefront of my mind. I imagined her holding court at the princes’ table, enjoying candle-lit dinners in the Spring Court, and sipping cocktails in Prince Caulden’s lounge.
The worst was of her getting pounded from behind by Prince August while Prince Bradwell thrust in and out of her mouth. In this awful scenario, her hands moved over Prince Caulden and Prince Rory’s dicks like pistons.
A shudder of revulsion skittered down my spine. There was no way that ice queen would get down and dirty with my princes. I turned away from the empty pool and hurried after the cat toward the trees.
Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy of the birch trees as McVittie rode on my shoulders. The cat’s paws rested on my collarbone while his soft, warm body dangled down one side of my back.
The birch trees blended into a thicket of eucalyptus, whose sharp, menthol scent filled my nostrils. We continued along a trodden path toward a boulder covered in huge splashes of what appeared to be glue.
McVittie sneezed, his tail swishing from side to side. “Keep going.”
“To that big stone?” I asked.
“This is a popular centaur post,” he replied.
I tilted my head to the side. From an angle, I could discern a horse-shaped protrusion, but with no head or front quarters. “What does that mean?
“A rutting post,” he said with a sniff. “Whatever you do, don’t touch that rock. It’s covered with the seed of over a hundred different centaurs.”
My nose wrinkled, and my steps faltered. Of all the people I had expected to take me to a place where centaurs relieved their desires, I hadn’t expected McVittie.
Hoofbeats approached from the distance, and I skittered behind a eucalyptus tree with peeling, white bark.
“What are you doing?” Mcvittie’s claws dug into my borrowed shirt.
“Hiding,” I whispered.
“We’re here to meet Centaurs, not run away from them,” he hissed into my ear.
“If this is the next stage of the plan, you need to explain yourself before I take a step further,” I hissed back.
“We’re going to see Mistress Catha.”
“Oh.” I stepped out from behind the tree and leaned against its side. “Do you have any money?”
“On my collar,” he said.
A centaur trotted toward the rutting post, whistling a merry tune. I placed a hand on my chest and grimaced. Was he really going to wank himself against that nasty, encrusted stone? The rubbing of his hands and the golden ponytail swishing from side to side said yes.
I tilted my head and squinted. Maybe it was the jaunty hop in his step, but something about him was familiar.
“Coltrane?” I asked.
The centaur froze. “How do you know that name?”
“A lucky guess?”
“Well, my name is none of your business.” He turned around and leveled me with hard eyes. A breeze blew his golden hair off his face, making his features more severe. “What do you want?”
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“We need a ride to Spindlewinder village,” said the cat. “It’s in the Courage District.”
The centaur folded his arms across his broad, hairy chest. “It will cost you.”
“We have money beads,” I said.
“Fine.” Coltrane flicked his head toward the saddle on his back. “Hop on board.”
As I stepped out from the tree’s canopy, McVittie dug his claws into my shoulder. “Not so fast.”
Coltrane placed his hands on his waist and stamped his foreleg on the leaf litter, bringing up clouds of dust. “Do you want a ride or not?”
I also glanced at McVittie for an explanation. This was his idea.
“I’m riding this female’s back,” said the cat. “There’s no way I’ll let you jostle her about while you rut against that rock. We’ll wait for you to finish.”
Ten cringeworthy minutes later, McVittie patted one of the hands covering my ears, indicating that it was safe for me to step out from behind the eucalyptus’s thick trunk. Coltrane’s loud moans had faded into panting breaths, the same kind that a centaur would make at high speeds, so I made myself imagine that he’d just returned from a long journey instead of a prolonged session of rutting against that awful stone.
I emerged, keeping my gaze firmly on the centaur’s saddle and not on the side of the rock, which glistened with an iridescent liquid. And I certainly didn’t catch the look of intense satisfaction on Coltrane’s face.
“Get on with it,” said McVittie in a voice that implied I was no stranger to spunk and a massive hypocrite for masturbating at the sight of Prince August stroking his cock to completion.
I mounted the centaur and placed my hands over the sawn-off horn of his saddle.
Coltrane turned his head to the side and glanced at me through the corner of his eye. “You’ll have to hold me around the waist, or you’ll fall off.”
“It’s alright,” I replied.
“And fall off with me on your back?” The cat made a hissing sound in my ear.
“Bloody hell, alright!” I grabbed onto Coltrane’s waist.
“Much better,” the centaur said with a purr.