Kidnapped by the Fae: Paranormal Dark Fae Romance (Fae's Claim Book 5)

by Laxmi Hariharan

  His nostrils flare. His biceps seem to enlarge in front of my eyes. I gulp and my throat goes dry. I shouldn’t find this attractive, I shouldn’t. I’ve seen Hawke angry before, many times… Just never at me. A ball of emotion blocks my throat. Stupid tears knock behind my eyes. I will not blink them away, will not give him the satisfaction of seeing exactly how much he’s unnerved me.

  He leans in closer. His broad shoulders block out the rest of the world. The sun’s rays halo him, cloaking him in a white light that’s both otherworldly and yet…so…hot. My mouth waters; liquid lust pools between my legs. I tip up my chin, hold his gaze.

  "What did you say?" His chest rises and falls. Waves of dominance unfurl from him and slam into my chest, pinning me to the muddy ground where I am laid out. Prone. In front of him, at his disposal, for him to do as he wants with me. No, not that. Never that. Get that out of your mind. Hold your own, it’s the best way to survive this crazy-ass journey that I have embarked on.

  I’d left home, to get away from him…to test him, to find out if he’d come after me, to understand if I meant anything to him at all. Turns out, I am the one who is being tested here. How much do I want him? Enough to let him go? Can I?

  "I said, you should have left me in the water to drown. Why did you pull me out? Why did you—?" I squawk as he bends, then picks me up in his arms. He prowls to the edge of the river, which I assume he pulled me out of. Then he lets go.

  14

  Hawke

  "What the hell…?" she screams as her body falls toward the surface of the river.

  Her wet hair haloes her face. Her breasts, outlined against the wet fabric of her shirt, heave. My groin hardens. My chest hurts. A blinding pain tears up my back. The fuck? I shake my head to clear it. I drop inside, draw on the telekinetic energy. My guts clench. I am running on empty. Hell. I should conserve the little energy I have left; focus on getting as far away from her as possible. Instead, I’m trying to teach her a lesson in gratitude. The fuck is wrong with me?

  I should let her go.

  So she can find a mate… Someone closer in age… Someone who’ll grow with her… Someone who isn’t me.

  Anger thrums inside. The energy ignites and my fingertips spark. I raise my hand, throw a telekinetic net over her. Her body stops its downward descent; the curve of her ass grazes the water. Stays.

  Stays suspended a few centimeters above the surface of the water.

  "You…you dropped me?" She splutters.

  "Isn’t that what you asked for?"

  "Bu…but I didn’t mean you had to instantly oblige…as if...as if…"

  "I wanted to get away from you?"

  She scowls.

  "Guess neither of us wants anything to do with the other… so…"

  "So?" She frowns

  Pain thrums at my nerve-endings; I push it away. "So, let me get you to safety first. Then we can go our separate ways."

  "I have a better idea." She jerks up her chin. "Why don't you leave me alone and get away from here?"

  "So I have the death of your sorry ass on my conscience?" I lower my eyebrows. "Think again."

  "I’m freakin’ eighteen, asshole. I can do as I want."

  "Not on my watch."

  Her cheeks redden; she firms her lips. "You're not my keeper."

  "You're right."

  "What?" She blinks.

  "I intend to be your captor until I get you to safety." The throbbing in my back increases in intensity. Sweat beads my forehead, my palms.

  "You wouldn’t." She tips up her chin.

  I tilt my head, "Oh? Don't challenge me."

  "Don’t annoy me."

  "Don’t sass me, girl. This once, will you fucking cooperate?"

  "No." She juts out her chin. Suspended above the water, with her life in my grasp, she refuses to comply? Fucking magnificent.

  This girl…this tempting morsel of a woman always pushes me to the edge. She stands up to me, defies me, pushes me to the edge, until I snap. Every time I save her…she reminds me why it is, exactly, that she doesn’t need me to come to her rescue. And yet, I can’t stop myself. Something about her forces me to track her, stalk her... so I know exactly where she is every moment in time. This…this obsession with her is unhealthy. There’s only one way out… To ignore my body’s response to her. To shut down all of my feelings, all emotions. Especially after what happened earlier. It is thanks to me that she almost died.

  If something were to happen to her… I’d… I wouldn’t be able to live with it. No, I need to protect her... I will not give in to my impulses where she is concerned.

  Pain blooms in my chest. My back feels as if it is on fire. Perhaps the bullets from those organic guns hurt me more than I had realized. I need to get her to safety—that’s paramount.

  "You’re coming with me, and that’s final."

  "Says who?" She glowers.

  "The man who’s going to show you what happens to brats who become too big for their boots."

  Her pupils dilate. Fuck me, she can’t be turned on, can she? I glare at her and her breathing grows shallow. She swallows, sets her jaw, "Newsflash, asshole."

  "Huh?"

  She wiggles her toes and I take in her dainty feet. Her bare feet.

  "I’m not wearing any."

  The pain slices up my spine, bursts behind my eyes. I sway; my vision tunnels. No, no, can’t give in, not yet. I dig my heels into the ground, squeeze my thighs to hold up my weight.

  "Doesn’t matter." I draw on the lingering sparks of telekinetic energy inside, force them toward my fingers.

  "Wha… what do you mean?"

  "You won’t be needing them where we are going."

  "Where? I am not going anywhere, not with you, no way… I—"

  I raise my hand; the energy crackles out from my fingertips.

  There’s a shout. I look up toward the hilltop from where we had jumped. A rope unfurls down the side, then another. Shit.

  Charley’s gaze veers toward the intruders. "Damn it," she swears. "Can’t those tossers stay down? It’s fucking annoying."

  "Language," I growl.

  She throws her hands up, "Why are you dawdling, old man? Get us the fuck out of here. "

  A chuckle rips up my chest. I blink. Hell, the spirit on this woman… She annoys the fuck out of me, challenges me, brings out all of my protective instincts. The hell am I going to do about it? Later. Later. First: I wave my hand and her entire body careens toward me.

  She yelps.

  I snatch her up and hold her close.

  Her body nestles into my chest.

  I hunch my shoulders over her. There’s a splash as one of the men dives from the rope into the water. Time to leave. I drag the telekinetic energy up, throw the virtual net around both of us. Then, I teleport.

  15

  Charley

  Geometric images whiz past us; the psychic breeze snaps my hair away from my face. It tugs at my skin, pulls at my clothes, screams in my ears, and I huddle closer to the massive chest of the most annoying alphahole I’ve ever met. Then the breeze dies away and the world tilts. My ear drums pop and the ground comes up to meet us. I half scream, dig my fingers into his biceps and hold on. He jerks his torso around to cushion the fall. His entire body shakes as he hits the ground.

  The impact of the contact sweeps up his body. My bones seem to stretch then settle. Thud-thud-thud, my heartbeat fills my ears. I taste blood in my mouth. Hell, I bit my tongue at some point. I squeeze my eyes shut; a low moan trembles up my throat and I swallow it back. I flatten my palms against the warmth of his bare chest, draw in his dark edgy essence. Wait. Wait. The silence swells over me, fades. I hear the rustle of leaves, birds chirping. The late afternoon sun sinks into my blood. My skin warms. I raise my head, glance around to find we are in a clearing. In front of me is a small building—whitewashed, tiled roof, surrounded by a garden overrun with weeds. The door is closed…and it seems deserted. Where the hell did, he teleport us to? I scan the area
, find no one else. Guess we gave them the slip. We are safe… Safe. The tension drains from my muscles, "Hawke."

  My voice cracks and I clear it.

  "Hawke, I think we left them behind."

  I rise up and his arms fall to the side. I roll over, then up to my feet. My knees tremble and I take in a deep breath. My stomach flip-flops, my throat hurts, but at least I am not sick. Most humans don’t cope well with teleportation. Thank God for my half-shifter genes, eh?

  "Hey, old man. What, are you taking a rest?" I glance down at Hawke and freeze. His eyes are shut, his color ashen. The hollows beneath his cheekbones are more pronounced. His torso is stained with mud, his pants torn. The hell? I drop down to my knees, touch his face. His skin is cold. My heart begins to race. No, no, no. I thrust my finger under his nostrils. A thin stream of air warms my skin. My shoulders sag with relief. Bloody hell, for a second there… No, no, no, don’t think about it. I swallow. My pulse rate refuses to settle. Why isn’t he moving? I grip his shoulder, "Hey, big man, what’s wrong with you?"

  Nothing. He doesn’t stir. His massive chest feels too still. I press my ear to the space above his heart—thud-thud-thud. The low drumbeat of his heart fills my ears. Whew! He's going to be fine. I sit up, scan his body. … A dark red stains the mud underneath his body. I touch it and my fingers come away red. Hell. I grip his huge forearm, raise it and gulp. More blood seeps from under him. He's hurt. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I slide my fingers against his side. When I hold up my hand, drops of red trickle down my palm. I bite on my lower lip. I need to find a way to stem the blood flow. More importantly, I need to get him to safety. I glance up at the house then toward him. We are maybe fifteen, twenty steps away. He’s too big, too heavy for me to drag him. Besides, his back is hurt. He must have been shot by the bullets from those organic guns. No way, can I support his weight. I need to wake him. How the hell am I going to do that?

  I survey the space, spot a glimmer from between the shrubs. Is that water? I stumble down the sloping grass, across the pebbles that skirt the sides. My shoulder hurts and my thigh muscles protest; I ignore my pain. Hawke, think of Hawke. I walk down the uneven stone steps that lead to the stream. My feet slip, but I manage to steady myself.

  I pause for a few seconds to catch my breath. Pulse racing, I hunker down, then shrug off my shirt. At least I have a sports bra on underneath. I dip my shirt in the water, then straighten and retrace my steps. When I reach Hawke, he’s in the same position I left him. But the pool of blood below his body... Has it expanded? I furrow my eyebrows, squat down next to him.

  I position the sodden shirt above this face, squeeze it until the water splashes onto his face.

  He doesn’t move.

  Oh, hell. I drag the wet cloth across his temples, then pat his cheeks. Still no response. My pulse begins to race. "Come on, Hawke. Open your eyes."

  I plop the cloth on his chest, then cup his cheek. "Come on, babe. Please."

  Endearments? I bite my lower lip. It’s okay. It’s not as if he can hear me. Can he? "Hawke, please. Now is not the time to play with me."

  Nothing. Not even a hint that the big alpha Fae is alive. I place my finger at the hollow of his neck. His skin is warm. The pulse steady. He’s out of it… Is he asleep? He hasn’t lost that much blood, has he? Maybe the teleportation depleted the last of his energies. If he hadn’t used his reserves to get us out of there… I swallow. No, don’t think about that. Not now. Focus on Hawke. "Hawke." I lean in close enough to make out the individual eyelashes that fringe his eyelids. The hollows under his cheekbones are more pronounced. The wind blows, and I shiver. I glance down and find goosebumps riddle his shoulders. That’s it. Desperate times and all that. I needed to get him inside and there is only one way to do that.

  I draw my hand back, let my palm connect with his cheek.

  16

  Hawke

  My senses pop. The zing of displaced air cools my cheek… The fuck does it throb? I shove out my arm, grab, twist. There’s a squeak, a huff, then the thud of a body hitting the ground. I lean over the slender figure of... "Charley?" My head spins.

  "Hawke…" she pants, "you’re hurting me."

  "Wait, what?" I glance sideways to find that my fingers encircle her wrist. So tiny, so fragile. Pale skin that gleams, beckons, calls to me. The tips of my ears tingle; the blood empties to my groin. That’s what makes my head spin. Yeah, that’s all it is. It’s not the sweet honeyed scent of her skin, the complex layers of her essence that surround me, call to me. My dick twitches and my balls harden. My canines dig into my gums—aching, throbbing. I am one big mass of want, of need, for her. Fuck.

  "Hawke, please." Her breath hitches.

  I glance up at her face, her features pale with pain. That I have caused… No. Yes. My belly hurts; a hot sensation coils in my chest. Hurt her, take her, show her how it could be to be mated by a Fae. Sink your teeth in her skin, mark her, bury yourself balls-deep inside of her. Knot her. Make her yours. So she’ll never again go against your command. Subdue her; force her to comply with your wishes. Thrust into her sweet, melting pussy and break her until she hears nothing but you, sees only you, smells the dominance that pins her to the ground, bent to your will and weeping, begging, asking for more…for that which only you can give her. Satisfy her. Consume her. Subsume her until there is no you, no her… There is only the purity of lust that equals nothing that came before, that binds the two of you forever. For she is mine.

  "Hawke." Her tone wavers, her chin wobbles, and a teardrop rolls down her cheek. "It hurts."

  I release her wrist, push up to my feet. My knees buckle. "Fuck." I squeeze my eyes shut, draw in a breath. Steady, I’m steady. I shake my head to clear it. When I open my eyes, the scene in front seems to have stabilized. Except… She looks up at me, her forehead furrowed. There’s something like…fear in her eyes. My rib cage squeezes, my thighs spasm. "I won’t hurt you."

  She blinks.

  "Promise." I hold out my hand. She glances at it, then deliberately shoves her palms down into the earth, presses down, and scoots up and away from me.

  "I told you, I’d never lay a finger on you, Char."

  She nods. "I… I know…but for a second there… You looked like…" She swallows, "Like..."

  "Like I had nefarious designs on you?"

  She frowns.

  "Don’t worry. I’ll be a gentleman."

  She snorts. "Somehow I’d never equate that word with you."

  A throbbing begins somewhere on my back, spreads to envelop my chest, my head. "Fuck." I squeeze my fingers at my sides, swallow down the bile that sloshes up my throat. "I think… I…"

  "You're going to be sick?"

  "Fuck, no." I promptly sway on my feet, negating the macho image that I’ve worked so hard to cultivate.

  She steps up, throws an arm around my waist. I hiss.

  She turns to survey my back. I hear the inhalation of her breath. Then she straightens.

  "How bad?"

  "You’ll live." Her tone is steady.

  "You’re a bloody bad liar."

  "You’re a pig-headed a-hole."

  I chuckle.

  She firms her hold on me, takes a step forward and I keep pace. Sweat beads my brow; my skin seems to shrivel in on itself. "Fuck." A shiver rolls up my body. My knees almost give way. I teeter and she bolsters her grip.

  "Lean your weight on me."

  I snort. "And risk hurting you?"

  "I’m not as helpless as you think I am."

  My lips twitch, "I am beginning to realize that."

  "But if you keel over, I promise I’ll leave you here and let your sorry ass freeze."

  "What do you mean freeze? It’s not that cold—" Thunder booms in the distance; droplets of rain splash on my skin.

  "What were you saying?" Her voice has a tinge of satisfaction underlying it.

  "No need to sound so smug."

  She chuckles. The warm sound ripples over my skin, and convenien
tly finds its way down to my groin. My dick instantly perks up. Fuck. Apparently, every part of me is hurting, but my cock has a different agenda. Maybe it’s plugged into some other source of energy altogether? I can’t remember the last time I was so aroused. Fucking pain. Why is it the curse of the Fae that extremes always turn us on? Not that I am going to let myself find out. Not now. Not with her. How long can I hold out, with her so close? Guess I am going to find out. I hasten my footsteps, and she has to half run to keep abreast. "Slow down, Hawke."

  "Make up your mind," I snarl. "First you want me to get in, then you tell me to—"

  "I know. I know what I said, you grumpy-grump pants." She huffs, "I think I liked you better when you were out cold."

  "So you could take advantage of my body?"

  "I did not."

  "Sure, you did. You called me certain endearments."

  She scoffs. "Doesn’t mean anything."

  "Now you’re lying." I click my tongue, keep the pace so she jogs to keep up. Too bad. I’m not showing her one iota of sensitivity. I am not going to weaken toward her. To do so will jeopardize her safety. Best to ensure that she keeps her distance from me. "Of course, flattery will get you everywhere. If you ask me nicely, I might fuck you—not that you are my type."

  "I’m not?" Her voice hardens.

  "Nope." I keep my eyes on the doorway. The raindrops come down faster. A fine mist coats everything. Why is my vision so hazy? "Little virgin girls who want to bed older men to satisfy their issues are not…" She squeezes her arm around me; pain flares out from the wound on my back. "Fuck." I bite down on the bile that coats my tongue. No fucking way, am I going to throw up the contents of my stomach. Not.

  I steel my spine, lower my chin, force my feet to move, one step after another. She keeps pace, so I guess I’m not going that fast. At least I am upright. Small mercies, huh? We reach the entrance to the house.