Ella's Masquerade: A Midnight Fae Academy Prequel

by Lexi C. Foss

  “And you didn’t want to bite me, even though we’re betrothed according to the Council,” I added, frowning. “Because you’re not ready?”

  “No, because I wanted you to understand the implications of my biting you. Unlike many of my kind, I don’t believe in forcing a mating bond on my intended.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “The male fae do that?”

  “All the time,” he drawled, glancing over his shoulder at a group of men walking to the club.

  I’d almost forgotten about our surroundings. “Did they hear us?” I wondered out loud. Except they would have stopped, right? It wasn’t every day two people spoke about fae.

  “No, I’m cloaking us,” he replied absently. “But we should probably head back, either to Darlington or to my family condo here in the city. It’s getting late.”

  “What about Kols?”

  Tray smirked. “Oh, he’ll be fine. He’s either moved on to another conquest or decided that little brunette was enough for the night. Regardless, he can take care of himself.”

  “I thought you said he was engaged to Emma?” I asked, allowing him to pull me away from the wall and into the street.

  “Emelyn,” he corrected. “And yeah, he is. He also hates her with a boiling passion, so he’s all about fucking around while he still can.”

  “Wait, if he hates her, why is he going to mate her?”

  “Royal bloodlines,” he replied. “Kols is the future Midnight Fae King. He’s responsible for breeding the next heir, which can’t be done with just anyone.”

  “So he has to mate a girl he hates?” That sounded ridiculous. “How archaic are your rules?”

  “Compared to human society? Very.” He glanced at me, something passing through his features. “My mother is very forward-thinking and trying to help change my father’s mind on Kols’s behalf, but so far, no luck.”

  He flagged down a cab, then set up some sort of muffling spell so we could continue talking freely, and dove into a discussion on the political structure of the Midnight Fae.

  My primary takeaway? Males were the ruling party with no female involvement in political affairs whatsoever. And the Council, it seemed, dictated everything, particularly to the more powerful lines. It struck me as a method of control, a way to keep those with substantial gifts in proper order.

  “I’m surprised there aren’t protests,” I said as we exited the cab. I’d been so engrossed in what Tray had to say that I wasn’t even sure how long the ride took, nor did I recognize the building he led us into.

  He paused at the security desk to sign something, then escorted me to an elevator that I assumed was another portal.

  Except he inserted a key card from his pocket and hit the top button.

  “It’s a system that’s been in place for hundreds of years,” he finally replied, referring to my comment about protests. “Only Aswad’s line has dared to question it.”

  “Aswad?”

  “King of Death Magic,” he murmured. “He’s what you could call my father’s direct opponent.”

  “Oh.” I massaged my temples, as I often did when Tray spoke about the fae world and all the strange nuances.

  It beat high school. That was for sure.

  The elevator opened into a polished marble foyer that led to an open seating area with floor-to-ceiling windows, which overlooked what appeared to be a patio of sorts.

  I blinked. “Wait. Are we still in London?” Because this place was huge.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, dove. It’s one of my family’s prized locations. I figure we can stay here tonight and head back to Darlington tomorrow. Unless you think Clarissa will notice?”

  “If she does, she won’t care.” As long as the chores were done, she couldn’t care less about my activities.

  I wandered down the marble stairs onto a plush white carpet and padded toward the glass, kicking my shoes off along the way. “Wow,” I said, eyeing the patio beyond. I hadn’t paid much attention to our adventure. “Where are we exactly?”

  “Near Hyde Park.”

  That explained the trees in the distance. The city lights illuminated some of the greenery, providing a calming view. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “My mother visits often.”

  “Alone?”

  “My father is often tied up with Council business,” he murmured, coming up behind me and handing me a glass of water.

  A glance to the corner revealed a bar of sorts, which I assumed was where he magically acquired the drink. “Thanks.”

  He kissed my exposed shoulder. “Thank you for being here.”

  “Where else would I be?” I asked, then sipped the cool liquid.

  “Darlington?” he suggested, lifting a brow.

  I snorted. “Yeah, I’ll take this any day.”

  “Even knowing all you do now about my world? That you have no choice in being my mate because of a council of fae who require it?”

  “Or that you apparently chose me, thereby ensuring I had no choice in the matter,” I added. “A fact, by the way, that you withheld from me this last month.”

  He had the good grace to grimace. “Yeah, that, too.”

  I hummed, swallowing more of the water before setting it on a glass table near the seating area. “There are worse things in life,” I murmured, running my fingers along the back of the leather couch. “Losing my parents. Putting up with Clarissa, Ryan, and Carmen for five years. Dash and Charlie’s games.”

  I supposed it all seemed rather trivial now when compared to the details Tray had disclosed. Yet somehow, all those experiences had numbed my reactions to his revelations about the fae world.

  I should be running from here screaming.

  Instead, I found myself turning toward the guy intended to be mine.

  And not necessarily disliking what I saw.

  He didn’t bite me tonight because he cared about my choice. Even though I technically didn’t have one, he still desired my willingness.

  “What would you do if I denied our mating?” I wondered out loud.

  A swirl of embers lit his dark irises. “I would work even harder to change your mind.”

  “And if that didn’t work?”

  He studied me for a long moment, then smiled. “It would. Eventually.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I pressed. “Maybe I’ll choose to stay in my world, go to college, find a nice guy to marry, and make human babies.”

  His expression told me he disliked that vision, but his tone remained calm as he said, “Then I’ll wait until your time with him is through and try again later in our lives.”

  “And do what in the interim?”

  He stepped forward. “Why do you really want to have this hypothetical conversation, Ella? Just to test me? To be cruel?”

  I flinched at the unveiled accusation. I hadn’t meant that at all, had only—

  He pinched my jaw between his thumb and finger, the grasp not necessarily painful, but not gentle either.

  “What do you want me to say to you?” he continued. “What promise do you need to hear? That I’ll never force myself upon you? Because I think my actions have proven that. That I’ll do whatever I can to help you? To train you? To protect you? What more do you need to know me? Time? More kisses? Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you. But I need you to tell me, Ella. Even if that means watching you marry a mortal, as you so callously suggested.”

  Okay, wow, I’d obviously struck a nerve.

  Which, yeah. It’d been a bitchy thing to say.

  In truth, I wasn’t even that upset. There were worse fates than finding out I was betrothed to Trayton Nacht.

  I mean, he was right. Despite our rocky beginning, he’d proven to mostly have my best interests at heart. Heck, he’d enrolled in Darlington Academy—the epitome of hell—just to get to know me.

  No, not even that.

  To help me.

  To protect me.

  To educate me.

  I couldn’t deny the pul
l I felt toward him, the way my body seemed to cave to his every touch. There was a connection between us. A magical thread of electricity that hummed deep inside me each time our eyes locked, like right now.

  An intensity that warmed my insides, setting off butterflies in my lower belly.

  It left me feeling dizzy and intoxicated all at once, my very soul drunk on Trayton. I blamed that sensation for my irrational urges and the words inching up my throat.

  What could it hurt? We were already destined to be together. Why not see what that really meant?

  I had nothing to lose.

  Nowhere else I’d rather be.

  No other future waiting for me.

  Just the Midnight Fae world. And this male who claimed to be mine.

  “I know what I want from you, Tray,” I said, my voice soft.

  “Name it.” The manner in which he responded, so quick and confident, emboldened my resolve. Because I knew he meant it. Anything I desired, he’d do it. For me. Despite the archaic tendencies dictating his kind, there was one aspect I’d finally begun to understand.

  Midnight Fae took their mates—intended or otherwise—very seriously.

  A lifelong bond.

  A partnership engraved in blood.

  A promise for eternity.

  So unlike anything a human relationship could ever hope to aspire to. And why would I want one when I could have a fae who set my blood on fire? When I could choose Tray?

  “Bite me,” I breathed, my hand wrapping around his neck. “I want you to bite me, Trayton Nacht.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tray

  My blood heated, the promise in her words wrapping around my rapidly beating heart. “You’re sure?” I asked, my voice a rasp of sound between us.

  “Yes.” No hint of trepidation or uncertainty. Just pure confidence. “I want you to bite me. Now, please.”

  I grinned, amused. “Such a demanding little thing.” Not that I was complaining. My hands circled her hips, pulling her flush against me.

  “You said you’re mine,” she replied, her nails digging into my nape. “Now make me yours.”

  “Your courage floors me,” I admitted, running my nose along her cheekbone. “So many would run in your position.”

  “I’ve never been normal.” She arched her neck, exposing her throat. “And I prefer it that way.”

  “Me, too,” I agreed, my lips brushing her pulse.

  Her heart rate remained miraculously steady, her breathing soft and calm, her body melting into mine.

  All the signs of a willing mate.

  Everything I could have possibly desired.

  I shuddered against her, disbelieving of my fate for just a brief moment, wondering if I would awake and find this all to be a dream. But her sweet scent held me firmly in reality, asserting the truth of her feelings.

  Mine, I thought, my tongue tracing the tender flesh of her throat.

  One of my palms slid to her lower back, the other slipping upward into the tousled locks of her blonde hair. Her breath finally hitched, not with fear but with excitement, and it pushed me onward, encouraging me to strike.

  I’d bitten countless humans.

  Never a fae.

  Prolonging the moment seemed second nature, a way to always remember my first—my only. Because this would be it for both of us. One mark made her mine, a link all other fae would sense.

  She’d become off-limits.

  As would I.

  That she acquiesced so young proved her fae nature. She accepted our destiny so readily, as most Midnight Fae would in our position. The attraction between us only heightened our blood match, which was precisely the reason I originally chose her. I felt the stirrings of our compatibility when we first met, and realized why when I read her file.

  This woman was my perfect mate.

  And I would spend the rest of my life ensuring that she didn’t regret this decision.

  I kissed her neck, adoring her for allowing me to stake my claim. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  My incisors pierced her skin before she could reply, my bite sinking into her pulse point.

  She moaned my name, her arm circling my lower back as her opposite hand tightened against my neck, holding me to her. Not that I required the motivation. The first taste of her delectable essence held me captive, my mouth unable to move away, my throat already working to take as much of her into me as I possibly could.

  Power swam around us.

  Electricity raced up and down our limbs.

  The bond was immediate, her psyche and soul joining mine in a blood promise. Possessiveness rolled over me, the need to claim every inch of her a darkness that consumed my mind.

  My palm moved from her lower back to her ass, squeezing.

  Her responding groan had me growling against her neck.

  “More,” she panted, her hand a vise around my nape. “More, Tray.”

  I lifted her off the ground single-handed and walked her backward to the wall. Her legs circled my waist, placing her hot center right where I wanted her.

  That little dress of hers rolled up to her hips, leaving her thighs bare.

  And a snap of her panties allowed me to feel the dampness pooling in that sweet spot I so desperately wanted to taste.

  She didn’t hold back, her moans matching the neediness of her hips as she pressed into my groin.

  A Midnight Fae’s bite always intensified sexual encounters, but this was more than just our initial mating. This was the fae beneath her skin coming out to claim her male, just as my inner fae demanded I take my female.

  I released her neck, licking the wound closed with a hint of magic, and slanted my mouth over hers.

  She kissed me as though she needed me to breathe.

  And I gave her all the life she required with my tongue.

  My blazer hit the floor, her exploring hands running all over my back and arms. I captured her face between my palms, dictating our kiss while allowing her to set the playing field for what came next.

  Each writhing thrust against my aching cock sent sparks flying. Literally. Because my magic was out of control for this girl. All I wanted was to sink into her damp heat, to bathe my arousal in her own, and to give her every piece of my soul in the process.

  This woman owned me.

  Every lick, nip, and kiss sealing the promise between our souls.

  “Take me to bed,” she whispered.

  A quiver worked its way up my spine, my feet already moving before my hands could grip her hips. She clung to me with her thighs, her eagerness a slick presence I longed to indulge in.

  Her back hit the mattress of my bed—one I rarely used but was about to thoroughly put to the test. I climbed over her, bracing on my hands as her fingers went to the buttons of my dress shirt. They practically popped off in her hurry to get to my skin, her appreciative gaze stroking my torso and heightening my yearning with each passing second.

  I helped her remove the fabric as it hit my shoulders, shrugging out of the material and smiling when she pushed me to my back with her palm on my chest. Her lips tasted my jaw, my neck, my pecs and abs. Each kiss a tantalizing caress that heated my blood even more.

  I fisted my fingers in her hair as she reached my belt, her blue eyes peering up at me with questions in their depths. “You set the pace,” I told her, refusing to take anything from her that she didn’t readily agree to give.

  She popped the buckle.

  Then my button.

  And slid down the zipper.

  “Fuck,” I breathed, every inch of me burning for her. It would be so easy to flip her, to take control, to slide from my boxers into the bare heat waiting for me between her thighs.

  She licked the sensitive skin just above my pants and began tugging the fabric down. It required her to move to the side temporarily, gracing me with a view of her hiked-up dress and the sweetness beneath.

  My limbs locked, my desire warring with my need to allow h
er these precious moments of control.

  But those luscious blonde curls were calling to my tongue.

  My hands.

  My fingers.

  My cock.

  I bit down on a groan, my hands fisting at my sides. She’s going to be the death of me, I decided. I will literally die because I couldn’t—

  “Ella.” I arched off the bed, her unexpected touch nearly undoing me.

  She hadn’t wasted any time, her palm falling to my dick and stroking me through the thin cotton. “You’re going to need to teach me.”

  “You’re doing just fine without instruction,” I assured her, my skin tightening across my abdomen.

  She continued her sensual torture—which she probably considered an exploration—and drew her nails downward and upward, memorizing my length.

  I hissed when she stopped, my inclination to grab her nearly overwhelming me.

  Until a brush of air hit my groin.

  Her gasp caused my lips to twitch. Such a beautiful sound for my ego.

  An ego I soon forgot as my boxers disappeared into the pile of clothes already on the floor. I’d kicked off my shoes earlier, leaving me in only my socks—which I quickly removed.

  Typically, I preferred the female to disrobe first.

  But something about the way Ella admired me now made her approach so much better.

  She bent to lick the tip of my cock, her hum of approval killing me. “Ella,” I said, my voice strained. “Baby. If you do that—” I bit off on a curse as she took me deep into her mouth.

  I grabbed the bedding, demanding my cock behave and allow her to play. But fuck, it was a challenge in self-control.

  A month of heavy making out had primed my body in so many ways that no amount of jacking off could help temper it. Which, yeah, I did. A lot. Including this morning. All to fantasies that involved this very sensation.

  My fingers ran through her hair automatically, my muscles reacting despite my mental demand to let her lead. It just went against every single instinct I owned.

  Can’t.

  Do.

  This.

  Much.

  Longer.

  My orgasm crested far too soon, forcing me to pull her away before I did something embarrassing. Her protest died on a breath as I laid her out on the bed, my thigh between hers. “I need to taste you, Ella,” I said against her lips. “Really taste you.”