Faery Kissed

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Faery Kissed Page 2

by Lacey Weatherford


  “And what difference did that make?”

  “By coming here of your own free will, you answered my call for you. By the customs of my people, it gave me the right to bond with you.” She glanced up, locking eyes with me.

  “Bond?” I wasn’t sure what she was saying. “I don’t understand.”

  “You and I were bonded when we danced together with the others. The ceremony was completed.”

  “Ceremony?” I asked, confused.

  “I’m sorry. I forget you say it differently in your world. We were fasted together … married.” She smiled softly.

  “We were married?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, blushing again.

  “How do I know this is true?”

  She blushed harder. “You can hear the truth in my voice.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Bran,” she whispered my name again, and I groaned at the sensation it caused.

  “What you’re feeling is something that only happens between couples who are truly bonded.”

  I couldn’t believe what she was telling me—or what I was feeling. It was incredible to think this creature had chosen me to be her mate. I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Bran, are you okay?”

  I gritted my teeth, balling my hands into fists, my breath coming fast. “Let’s get one thing clear right now. You’re going to have to be careful how many times you say my name.”

  She laughed, the color of her skin growing even brighter. “But I like watching what it does to you.”

  I shook my head and fell backward into the grass, placing an arm over my forehead. “I’m sure you do.”

  “Are you saying you don’t like it?” She frowned as she leaned over me, her long hair falling around us like a curtain.

  I could hardly breathe as I stared up at her, her closeness making me feel intoxicated. “I’m not saying that at all. But I would like to know a little more about you before I completely succumb to whatever this is between us.” I wanted her badly, and my mind felt increasingly foggier the longer I stared into her eyes.

  She smiled, her head dipping closer to mine. “Patience, Bran. You will get your answers, but I need to do something else first.”

  I growled again pulling her body against mine. She snuggled into the cradle of my neck and bit me. Instantly, I could feel her, as if she was under my skin, inside of me. When she pulled away, I saw my blood staining her bottom lip.

  “What did you do?” I heard the tremble in my voice, and I fought the lethargic feeling that was settling into my limbs, making them heavy. I didn’t want to sleep—I wanted her to do it again.

  She stared at me, looking a little sad at first—then her mouth curved into a small smile. “Now you’re mine truly and I can answer all your questions. But later—for this moment, I need you to sleep.”

  She lifted her dainty hand and trailed her fingers over my eyelids, but even as I drifted off, I could see her image burned there.

  And then I dreamed—savage dreams of multiple wars and terrifying creatures battling each other to the death; killing in all sorts of horrific manners. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, and I didn’t know how to name the images I was observing.

  There was a race of beings that fought the Fae. Blood-dripped fangs protruded from their mouths—long, slender, pointed teeth—that when combined with their muscular frames and fighting skills made them extremely lethal. They fed on the Fae, sucking them dry and turning them into screaming, ghost-like creatures that evaporated, to near nothingness, becoming helpless, drifting beings.

  The Fae, despite all their magic, appeared to be unable to stop the advancing army, and I was sure their society was about to be obliterated. I wept for the destruction I saw, unable to believe such cruelty existed. But I could do nothing to help. I was a silent observer, a lone individual in a vast plain of inhumanness—until I saw her.

  Eirian. My Eirian, geared for battle in sleek armor and weaponry, standing ready as she faced an onslaught of the terrifying creatures flying toward her. She looked so brave and fearless, until she cast her gaze to the tree line where a small figure huddled.

  I didn’t have time to inspect things further because the attack was imminent.

  She lifted her wickedly crafted bow and arrow.

  “Eirian!” I called out desperately, and she turned.

  “Bran!” she whispered, paling in disbelief, right before the creatures fell upon her.

  I groaned loudly in reaction to her speaking my name, sitting up abruptly to find myself half-naked, my torso exposed and sheets twisted every which way from my waist down in the bed I laid in.

  I gritted my teeth, trying to calm both my racing heart and labored breathing. I was sweating as if I’d run a race.

  Looking around the stone-walled chamber, I noticed Eirian sitting on a cushioned bench beneath a large, arched, glassless window, clothed in a thin, white shift. She was staring out with a solemn look upon her face, a few strands of her long hair mimicking the movement of the white, sheer curtains that blew in a soft breeze. She looked ethereal, like something so beautifully frail it might break if you held it too tightly.

  She turned her head to look at me. “What did you see?” she asked, her gaze traveling over my body.

  “War. A terrible battle between the Fae and some other creature I didn’t recognize, though they resembled the myths and lore that my people call Vampires.”

  She nodded, but didn’t reply.

  “You were there as well, armed and ready to fight.”

  She arched her eyebrow, and I couldn’t help but notice how attractive the lines of her face were.

  “What does it mean?” I prodded, trying to get some answers.

  She shook her head slightly. “Who knows for sure? It sounds like you were dreaming of the future.”

  “I thought you were about to die.” Just saying the words aloud made me shudder, and I marveled over how much her safety meant to me. I didn’t even know her, yet she was already a part of me.

  “We all die, Br . . .” She caught herself before she actually spoke my name this time. “Death is but a door to another existence.” She turned back toward the window.

  She looked so sad, and my first reaction was to go and comfort her, but I realized I was wearing nothing under the sheet.

  “How’d I get here?” I asked, taking in the elegant though simplistic bedroom I was in, minimal in furniture, but the pieces were carved with the most amazing craftsmanship I’d ever seen.

  She smiled now. “I’m very strong.” She turned to face me once again, her gaze raking over me. “Would you believe me if I said not all strength lies in large muscles?”

  I glanced down at my work-chiseled form before making eye contact with her. “What’s wrong with large muscles?”

  She smiled even wider now, and I swore the room grew brighter with its radiance. She moved across the room toward the bed and sat on the edge next to me. “Absolutely nothing.” She reached out, tracing her finger lightly up my arm onto my shoulder, then over my chest and down to my stomach. “I think you’re . . . beautiful, a masterpiece.”

  I grinned and chuckled. I was pretty sure no one had ever called me that before. An image of a girl tried to fight its way into my mind, but I was unable to grasp onto it so I let it pass.

  “A masterpiece, huh? How did you come to that conclusion?”

  “Your physique is very wonderful—all valleys and ridges, each area so . . . defined. I find it to be . . . inspiring.”

  “Don’t the men of your race appear the same?” I was curious.

  “No. They are strong, only more like smooth marble on the surface.”

  “I see.” I didn’t really, but at the moment my mind was mostly paying attention to the sensations her fingers were causing.

  “I prefer the ridges,” she added.

  I swallowed hard. “Good to know.”

  Her tongue darted out and wet h
er lips. I wanted to be there tasting her as well. We leaned toward one another, as if drawn together, and her sweet breath brushed over my skin, heating it even more with its warmth.

  She closed the rest of the space between us, brushing her lips lightly against my own. It was so brief, but still produced fire inside me.

  “Do you want to be with me, Bran?” she questioned.

  “Yes,” I grounded out between clenched teeth. “Yes, I do, Eirian.”

  Her skin flushed red, and she clamped her eyes shut as I spoke her name for the first time.

  “I was wondering when you would realize that.”

  “Oh, I figured it worked both ways—I was just waiting for the perfect time to torture you with it, Eirian.”

  I grinned as she tossed her head back and moaned. “Let’s finish this then,” she replied when she’d recovered.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “But you said you wanted to be with me.” Her look was one of sorrow and concern.

  “And I will, after you’ve answered some more of my questions. If we’re truly bonded as you say, then we have a lifetime to continue our present discussion.”

  Eirian got up and walked away with a slight huff, seating herself again on the bench by the window.

  “I didn’t say you had to leave.” I patted the spot on the bed next to me.

  She shook her head, her sleek hair floating about her. “It will be easier for us if we are separated. You distract me.”

  I chuckled and gave her a nod. “Likewise.”

  “What do you want to know?” She didn’t look at me, instead tracing her finger lightly over the windowsill. She appeared calm on the outside, but I could feel an undercurrent running through the space between us, and her other hand kept pinching at her shift. She was nervous about something, but I had no idea what. I watched her for a moment longer, waiting to see if she would look at me again. She didn’t, though.

  “I want to know why you picked me.”

  Chapter Three

  I was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to answer me. She seemed restless, almost irritated by my question.

  “Is there something you’re afraid to share?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I’m just not sure where to start. I don’t know what will make the most sense.” She turned to stare at me. “You’re very astute, you realize?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She sighed as she stood and walked over to sit beside me. “Even though you came of your own free will, there was still a significant amount of glamour used to get you here.”

  “You’re trying to tell me you’ve seduced me, aren’t you? That I’m under your power.” I knew enough about Fae lore and the sometimes devious ways they used to get the things they wanted.

  Her eyes widened. “That’s exactly what I mean. I’ve never met anyone who had enough presence of mind to keep asking questions. They just did what they were told.”

  I folded my arms, leaning back against the intricately carved headboard. “So, you’re saying you do this a lot . . . seducing people.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  “No!” she exclaimed, reaching to place her hand on my arm. “No, you’re the first I’ve brought here. I was speaking of others who’ve found themselves with my people.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  Her hand fell away, and she looked toward the window.

  “Fae cannot lie.”

  I snorted. “Is that so? Then why are there so many tales of awful things the Fae have done to humankind?” I felt bad for pressuring her, but she seemed so guilty of something.

  “We are master crafters when it comes to words. There is always truth in what we say.”

  I laughed. “And that’s the catch, isn’t it? There may always be truth in what you say, but that doesn’t mean it’s not bent to shed a better light on what you wish us to see.”

  She remained silent, which only affirmed I was right.

  “Tell me, Eirian,” I spoke, and I couldn’t help noticing the way her body trembled. “What is it that you don’t want me to see?”

  A look of alarm passed over her features. “Please don’t ask me, Bran.”

  I groaned as she leaned in to place her body against mine—sending sparks all over me. “Why won’t you tell me?” I asked through clenched teeth, as she ran her fingers up my neck.

  “I will. I promise. I just want to be with you right now. We’re bonded—married—and we have yet to celebrate it.”

  Staring into her eyes, I knew she was being honest. She would tell me all I wanted to know. And she was right—we were married. We had a lifetime to uncover one another’s secrets.

  I don’t know why I hesitated, but I did—looking her over, studying her features as she waited for my reply. I wanted to both lose myself in her and question her at the same time. She was such an enigma to me.

  The more I watched, however, the more I wanted. Finally, I wrapped my arms around her—my mouth descending to meet her upturned one. Regardless of not understanding why I felt so connected to her, it seemed natural to have her in my embrace.

  More sparks flared to life between us as our lips touched, first softly, then harder and more intense.

  Pulling her onto my lap without breaking the kiss, I threaded my fingers up into her long hair, and held her face to mine. Our tongues met, dancing together, our mouths frantically moving as if we’d been waiting for this moment for an eternity.

  My pulse quickened, and I wanted to devour her—no—I needed to devour her. The fact that this beautiful creature belonged to me now was something I could hardly fathom. Just a short while ago, I’d been unsure if the Fae existed, and now I was bonded to one. All I knew was that this felt like heaven, and I never wanted it to stop, because being with her enflamed every one of my senses.

  “Bran,” she whispered against my lips, and I moaned as I rolled over to pin her body beneath mine on the bed.

  I kissed down her neck, my tongue darting out here and there against her skin. She even tasted delicious, and it seemed as if the more contact I got, the more I needed. It would never be enough.

  “What are you doing to me, Eirian?” I said as my lips moved farther, and she arched in response over the use of her name.

  “The same thing you’re doing to me,” she replied breathlessly, and I had to admit it gave me great pleasure to hear she was just as affected.

  The fire flamed brightly as the two of us became lost in a world of our own creation. I knew of nothing except her—wanting her, touching her, kissing her, being with her in a way I never imagined possible.

  We were completely wrapped up in each other well into the afternoon. The light in the sky shifted as the sun continued on its journey. Then she bit me once again, and I drifted off into the blissful darkness, still holding her in my arms.

  There was a ringing in my ears when I awoke, and I tried to shake it off. That was a mistake, and I groaned, lifting a hand to my head.

  “Are you thirsty?” Eirian was standing in a loose, flowing gown at the side of the bed, a silver goblet in her hand extended toward me.

  I was thirsty—now that she mentioned it—almost ravenously so. I took the offered cup and quickly downed the contents. It was a sweetish tasting liquid that, while wetting my palette, made me crave more.

  “What is this? I asked, handing it back to her.

  She smiled. “Do you like it? Would you enjoy more?”

  “Yes, please,” I responded.

  She turned to a small serving tray with a large pitcher and a variety of fruit and breads I hadn’t noticed before.

  My stomach rumbled at the sight, and she giggled as she refilled my drink and gave it back.

  “I thought you might be getting hungry.”

  I drank the refreshment once more, and she took it and refilled it again, this time setting it on the edge of the tray and scooting it within my reach. She sat on the edge of the bed and picked up a grape, lea
ning forward and gesturing for me to open my mouth. I did so, and she popped it inside.

  Flavor like I’d never experienced exploded in my mouth with the first bite. I closed my eyes and savored it for a moment. “This is no ordinary grape.”

  She laughed. “Actually, it is. You will find that the food tastes much better here in Faery.”

  “Why is that?” I asked, wondering if there was some magical explanation.

  “Because everything is better here. That’s just the way it is.”

  I smiled and placed another grape into my mouth. “That’s quite the educated reasoning you have there.” I winked at her.

  “You’re very gracious.” She bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement before taking a grape herself and eating it.

  “I’m glad you think so.” I allowed my gaze to drift over her form once more. Would I ever get my fill of her? She smelled so good. I wasn’t sure why, but it made me feel like I wanted to lick or bite her, just to have a taste.

  She blushed. “It’s one of the reasons I chose you. I could tell your heart and mind were conscious to the plight of others around you.”

  Her comment brought our earlier conversation back to my mind. “Speaking of being chosen, are you going to share what you’ve been hiding, now that we aren’t . . . distracted?” Her eyes clouded over with a pained look. Whatever she had to say must not be good, since she seemed so unwilling to talk about it.

  Eirian stood and retreated. She placed both of her hands against the wide windowsill, bracing as if she needed it to hold her up. She was quiet for several long moments before she turned to face me, and her skin looked drained of color—more pale than I’d ever seen it. A wave of nervousness shot through me, wondering what would make her appear so ill.

  “Just say it, and let’s be done with it, shall we? No need to drag the agony out longer than necessary.” I tried to sound encouraging, but I was sure she could hear the apprehension as I spoke. My muscles were taut, as if preparing for someone to strike.

  There were tears in her eyes as she looked at me hesitantly. “I stole you from another.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

 

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