by Tasha Black
He saw great beauty and terrible hatred, tasted wealth and poverty, all the variety of the human condition, spread across the tiny valley.
At last he found a thread of light, so pure and clean it hurt his senses.
One by one he rejoined himself until the whole flock moved at once into an emerald cove.
Fifty-eight ink-black birds landed on the slick green grass and exploded upward into the form of a man once again.
Against the cliffside, a huge granite boulder stood out slightly. Its faded blue tint contrasted with the local, gray-red stone of the cliff.
Dorian paused for an instant before it, weighing his decision.
He had sworn that if he ever escaped his eternal parade of midnight, this was the last place he would ever seek.
But a glance at the boiling sky told him he didn’t have a choice.
Darkness was everywhere.
His queen was suffering.
For her, he would sacrifice his own peace of mind.
For her, he would do anything, no matter how painful.
He placed his hands on the cool stone of the giant boulder, and willed it to move.
22
Sara
Sara stood on the porch of the mansion, watching the rain crash down on the circular drive.
Don’t think about him. You don’t need a man to save this house or your town.
But it felt like her soul was trying to leave her body, the pain so pure it took on a nearly physical dimension. She’d been hopeful when she left her meeting with Helen Thayer, but the more time that passed, the more she noticed Dorian’s absence. It was as if he’d taken a piece of her with him when he left, and now she would never be whole again.
But Sara had never been a quitter. She went inside, determined to do what she could for now.
Tabitha had gone home for a bit, to make some phone calls and pull some strings.
Thanks to her friend’s efforts and connections, they now had a meeting scheduled with Ann Perel, the borough manager, in a few days.
Without anything else to do before then, Sara decided the best course of action was to chase down and capture as many monsters as possible, before they had a chance to cause any more trouble.
The only problem was that without Dorian, she had no idea what any of the creatures were, or how to defeat them.
One step at a time, she told herself.
At least he had left the shards behind, so she could do what needed to be done.
She set the bag down on the floor of the conservatory and carefully slid out the only mirrored piece.
It wasn’t hard to find its spot in the frame. She used a healthy amount of duct tape to hold it in place for now, along with the naiad’s piece.
“Rest well, Gan Ceanach,” she told it.
She had used her song to capture two magical creatures. She couldn’t deny her own power anymore. Dorian had been right.
Her songs had magic.
She really was a bard.
Not that it mattered much right now. All she wanted was for Dorian to come back from wherever he’d gone, and she was sure she didn’t have a song for that.
She sighed and looked around. The room was so dim and quiet. In spite of all that had happened there, it was still a peaceful place.
Suddenly, the clock in the center hall sounded, breaking the illusion of stillness.
The resounding toll shivered in her blood. Sara ran for the front door and flung it open.
Dorian was walking up the driveway, a resolute expression on his handsome face. His long hair was wet with the rain, which was coming down steadily now, but with less vigor than before.
“Dorian,” she called to him.
He broke into a run, the hint of a smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.
She met him on the lawn and he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her, swirling her around like a movie couple.
It felt warm and right in his arms, even the cold rain couldn’t dampen her soaring spirits.
“You came back,” she whispered into his hair.
“Of course I came back,” he told her, setting her down with a serious expression. “I would never leave you.”
“You did leave me,” she pointed out.
“Only to run an errand.”
He was hedging - she could see that much.
“What errand?” she asked.
“Let’s go inside,” he suggested. “You’re getting soaked.”
They walked to the porch, arm in arm.
“What errand?” she asked again as soon as they were under the roof and out of the worst of the rain.
He only looked out over the trees beyond the house, his brow furrowed.
She waited.
“This little town of yours,” he said finally. “It’s a joyful place.”
She nodded. He was right. She wouldn’t have thought to describe it that way, but Rosethorn Valley was joyful. It always had been.
“I was afraid that my darkness was blotting out your light,” he went on. “But that’s not it. That’s not what’s weakening you.”
“Of course not,” Sara said. “You make me happy. I tried to tell you.”
“I understand it now,” he said. “You are my queen. This place is your realm, and these are your people.”
She thought about it. Though it sounded incredibly far-fetched and over the top, it felt right.
“You are immune to my darkness, but if my darkness impacts them, that impacts you,” he said simply. “Your light dims when your people are in darkness.”
“You’re the King of Darkness,” she told him. “I don’t want you to change.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, my love,” he told her. “But I have another title. Do you remember it?”
“They called you the King of Midnight,” she remembered. “When they imprisoned you.”
“That name used to make me angry,” he said. “But then it gave me an idea. An idea I hate, but one that I will live with, because it will help us.”
“You’re not going back in that mirror, Dorian,” she said, frantic.
“No, my love, no,” he chuckled. “It’s not that. It’s the man who put me in the mirror in the first place - well, one of the men.”
“Who?” she asked.
“The King of Light,” he told her.
“There’s a King of Light?” she asked.
“Yes,” he told her. “In our world there was balance between us, and I hope it can be the same in this one.”
“But… he imprisoned you,” she said.
“It’s a little more complicated than that, but yes, he allowed me to be imprisoned,” he said, a dark look on his face. “He didn’t lift a finger to help me.”
“Why?” Sara asked. “Where was he?”
“We’ve always had a rivalry,” Dorian said. “I’m told it’s quite common.”
Sara wondered what he meant by that, but held her tongue.
“And the law of balance trapped him too,” Dorian continued. “I realized last night when I called to him and he didn’t answer. If I was imprisoned, then he probably was as well.”
“Did you find him?” Sara asked, afraid to give in to hope.
“I did,” Dorian said. “But he’s been frozen for a long time, Sara. His waking will be slow. When he returns, I believe your people will find balance. His light will counter the burden of my darkness.”
Sara could already feel it in the air. The storm had lightened, and it felt like a weight had been removed along with it.
Everything really was going to be fine.
“Thank you,” Sara cried, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you for saving my town.”
He hissed in a breath.
“Oh,” she said, pulling back and clapping both hands over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say it. Twice. I didn’t mean to imply a burden.”
He knelt before her, taking her hands in his.
“You are my queen,” he said, his voice rough with em
otion. “You saved me from infinite misery. I owe you a burden of favor so heavy no number of thanks can subtract from it.”
“Dorian,” she breathed.
“I will take you home now,” he said, standing. “It is time to seal our bond and begin our reign.”
23
Dorian
Dorian carried his queen over the threshold of her bedroom.
The rain was still lightly falling outside, but it made her small house feel cozy and warm by comparison.
He placed her gently on the bed.
“Wait here,” he told her.
She sat back obediently, and he felt a surge of pride at her submission.
He strode into her bathing chamber and started a steaming bath, then added a generous amount of bubbles.
Their fragrance reminded him of his queen, and he grew impatient. He stripped off his own clothing and headed back to the bedroom.
“I will bathe you, Sara,” he told her, loving the way her eyes caressed his body.
He had been born with the beauty with which his kind was endowed. He was glad if it gave her pleasure.
He helped her out of her clothing, kissed her blushing cheeks, and led her to the bath.
She stepped in daintily and he watched as she lowered herself into the warm depths of the tub, imagining her lowering herself onto his cock just as slowly and gracefully.
“May I join you?” he asked.
She nodded, her eyes sparkling.
He stepped into the heavenly water and sat behind her, pulling her into his arms, wrapping them around her waist as she leaned her head back against him.
For a moment it was enough, feeling her soft and warm against his chest.
Then she sighed and her movement against him was too much.
He lifted her hair and gently kissed her neck.
Sarah whimpered and leaned into his mouth.
Gods, she would drive him wild.
“Get on your knees,” he murmured.
She obeyed him instantly.
Again the surge of lust at her eagerness to please him.
“Turn around,” he told her.
She turned to face him, trust and anticipation written plainly on her lovely face.
“Put your hands on my shoulders,” he told her.
When her hands were placed where he wanted them, he soaped up his own hands and lifted them to her ribcage.
She gasped in a breath, waiting for him to touch her.
There was no fear, no sadness in her.
It was just as she had told him, he made her happy.
He slid his hands down her sides, allowing his thumbs to skim her nipples.
“Dorian,” she sighed, her nipples tightening like two pearls.
He cupped her breasts and teased them gently with his hands, toying with her, the slippery soap on his palms denying her the friction she craved.
The sounds she was making were already making him crazy. He got up to his knees as well and slid his palms around to cup her buttocks.
She was trembling now, her need overtaking her self-control.
He bent to brush her lips with his.
She melted against him, her stiff little nipples pressed to his chest.
“Hold still,” he murmured, pulling away slightly.
He kept hold of her round posterior with one hand and slid the other down past her soft belly to caress her thighs.
Her breath caught in her chest when he began to explore her tender sex with a big, slippery finger.
Her moans were like fuel on the fire of his desire.
He pushed them both as far as he dared, until his cock was throbbing wild demands, until she began to move her hips for more contact.
He withdrew from her regretfully, knowing he needed to feel her climax when he was inside her.
“Soon, my angel,” he whispered.
“Mm,” she agreed.
He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Sara’s clever hand closed around his cock and caressed him with a maddening slowness.
He groaned as the pleasure washed over him like an ocean, threatening to pull him under.
“Enough,” he told her after a moment, grabbing her wrist.
He lifted them both out of the bath and carried her, still dripping into her bedroom.
“Dorian,” she laughed in protest. “I’m soaking wet.”
“Mmm,” he groaned, smiling in spite of himself at the light she shone into him.
He wrapped a blanket around them and caged her head in his arms.
“Are you ready to be my queen?” he asked her.
She smiled up at him, so ready, so brave.
He pressed a kiss to her sweet lips, wishing he could drink her smile.
She slid her arms around his neck, and he trailed kisses down her jaw to the place where her neck met her shoulder.
Sara trembled in his arms.
He growled and fell on her breasts, licking the tender buds as he parted her legs with one big hand.
She moaned as he kissed down her belly and nipped one of her hips.
He prayed for control as he nuzzled her thighs.
This will be perfect for her….
24
Sara
Sara’s whole body was burning with lust.
The only one who could save her was Dorian, but he was moving so slowly and deliberately that she could hardly breathe.
His cruel tongue slid unhurriedly across her opening, and she cried out with need.
She could feel him smile against her, his cheek pressing her thigh.
She forgave him when he lapped at her in earnest, sending her into a frenzy of lust.
He teased her for a long time, bringing her so close, and then slowing his touches again and again.
Sara felt as if her whole body were melting in pleasure. She was so close, so desperate.
At last he crawled up to her.
He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. His dark hair fell in front of his pale gray eyes. His mouth was glistening with her juices.
“Sara,” he whispered, his jaw clenched.
She could see the need in his eyes.
“Dorian, please,” she whispered back. “I need you.”
He guided himself against her and she braced herself for pain. He was huge and so stiff that he felt like iron.
“You are mine,” he told her.
“Yes,” she murmured back automatically.
Then he was thrusting into her, pleasure unfolding out exponentially inside her with each stroke.
“Dorian,” she moaned helplessly.
He moved sinuously, slowly, as if he were afraid to hurt her.
She sank her nails into his biceps, and he gasped.
Then he was driving into her, giving her the wild thrusts she needed.
She was close, so close.
“Please,” she whimpered.
He slid a big hand between them to toy with her clitoris. Sara felt light shoot through her as she flew apart between his hand and his cock.
“Sara,” he growled.
She felt him explode inside her, filling her with his essence again and again.
The waves of pleasure rippled through them both for a long time.
At last, he collapsed beside her and pulled her onto his chest.
She wanted to memorize the moment, the sound of his heart beating, the feel of his arms around her.
But he was humming to her softly as he ran his fingers through her hair.
Sara closed her eyes and allowed his song to carry her into her dreams.
25
Sara
Sara and Dorian walked into the café hand in hand the next morning. The bells had been replaced and jingled cheerily as the door closed behind them.
Sara looked up at Dorian, hardly able to believe he was real, and then down at her hand. The ring around her finger had grown in the night, its vines trailing down her hand and wrapping delicately around her wrist. It was
beautiful, and powerful, and made her feel happy every time she looked at it.
The rain outside had slowed to a drizzle, and everyone seemed to be in a better mood.
“Sara, Sa-a-a-ra,” Carl sang to her from behind the counter. “And you brought your friend…?”
“Dorian,” she offered.
“Dorian…” Carl echoed, nodding, his brow furrowed.
“There aren’t a lot of songs with his name,” Sara acknowledged.
“I’ll think of one for next time,” Carl promised. “What can I get for you two?”
They placed their order and waited. Dorian put his arm around her waist, and she looked out over the little café.
“People seem happier today,” she murmured to him, watching a mom and toddler giggle as she fed him a muffin.
“The light king’s influence is already lending balance to this realm,” Dorian agreed. “When he arrives, there may be a period of adjustment.”
Sara had no idea what he was talking about, and frankly she couldn’t bring herself to care too much.
The rain was slowing, the people were at peace, and her own heart was full.
She had never felt lonely in her small house, because she had a town full of people she cared about.
Dorian was filling a need she hadn’t known she had.
Somehow there was exactly enough room for a towering dark fae king in her small-town life.
She didn’t know what was going to happen next, but she knew that with Dorian by her side that they would handle it, no matter what.
“Now what?” he asked her as they grabbed their drinks.
“We’re meeting Tabitha at the mansion,” she told him. “We’re supposed to gather photo evidence of its age.”
“Tabitha is a loyal friend,” he observed.
“Yes,” she told him. “Hopefully, you’ll make some friends once you get settled in.”
He nodded, but looked unconvinced.
“Come on,” she told him, resisting the urge to laugh. “Let’s go save a mansion.”
They hopped back in her car. His big hand was wrapped around her thigh on the way up the long drive.