Romantically Enchanted: A Twisted Fairytale Collection

by Madeline Martin

  She knelt on the blanket of moss and he came down beside her. “Do you wish I was a titled lady instead of a huntsman’s daughter, raised far from society and its rules?”

  “I wish for you just as you are.” He tugged at her hand until she lay on her back and he covered her body with his own like he’d done earlier in the day when they’d watched the sunrise. “Never think you are less, for you are exactly who you were meant to be, and that woman will change the world—or at least mine.”

  Never had anyone said something as kind or… freeing… to her. “Thank you.” Anything else she would have said was interrupted by his mouth on hers. Averell twined her hands around his neck and returned his kisses, and soon the heat he’d started inside her burst into an inferno. Restless energy circled through her like a beast on the prowl, and when he slid a hand between their bodies and he found the center of her heat with his fingers, she shuddered as she fell into a world of pin-wheeling pleasure and radiant color that erupted behind her closed eyelids, ending with riding a crest of feeling so great she cried out from the sheer wonder of it.

  All the while, Quinn crooned soft endearments into her ear. His lips and fingers were magic as he explored her body. With exquisite care and patience, he guided her hands, showed her where he liked being touched and how to do so with maximum effect. They exchanged moans and sighs that blended naturally into the night around them. When they both panted with need, he encouraged her legs apart and he settled between her thighs, the heavy, insistent weight of his member resting against her mound.

  She blinked open her eyes and met his gaze. Questions lingered in those amber depths surrounded with the same emotions she felt. When she nodded and gave him a smile, he shifted slightly and then with a quick thrust of his hips, he entered her, breaking through the tight resistance of her maidenhead.

  A sharp stab of pain assaulted her, but when he caught her gaze once more, she canted her hips and he moved within her. The discomfort became a memory in the face of the new and more interesting sensations he invoked. He filled her completely, and each time he stroked, Averell’s breath caught and shivering need raced into every nerve ending.

  Faster and faster he thrust. After a few awkward attempts at matching his rhythm, she fell into the pattern as ancient as time itself. As one they took from each other, gave back mutual pleasure, and still the terrible, delicious pressure built inside. She wrapped her legs about his waist and clung to his shoulders, urging him onward, needing to break.

  And then she did. As her body seized and was overtaken by throbbing, blissful waves, Quinn pushed into her twice more and he, too, joined in the cresting passion, his length pulsing.

  “Ah, Averell,” he murmured against the column of her throat as her heart pounded and her chest heaved. “You are mine.” She squealed when he delivered a light bite to her shoulder.

  She pulled him closer to her if that were possible. “And you are mine. Do not forget that.” Feeling daring but sated, she nipped his earlobe and grinned when he hissed in surprise.

  “I won’t.” He held her in his embrace while their bodies remained joined. Silence reigned between them for a long while, and finally he broke it by saying, “I don’t want you out of my sight tomorrow night.”

  Some of her joy faded in the face of intruding reality. “You are afraid I will kill your brother.” Again, the horrible choice loomed out of reach, overshadowing everything. What to do?

  “There is that.” He pressed a warm kiss to her temple, and the rumble of his voice tickled her chest, renewed her desire for this man all over again. “Also because I wish to claim all of your dances and keep the other men away.”

  Despite the circumstances, she laughed and combed the fingers of one hand through his hair. “I rather doubt I shall have any attention upon me.”

  “You will surprise everyone, including yourself.” He brushed his lips over hers in a fleeting kiss. “In addition, I wish to protect you.”

  “Why? Surely the court isn’t so bad they would do harm to a new arrival.” Of course, she didn’t know much about royal life, so perhaps it was as cutthroat as all of that.

  “Ha!” Again, his chuckle set her belly tingling. “They might be, but my concern is with the queen—your mother. She will be there, no matter what she’s said. I’m sure of it. The woman will need to go through me to get to you, and I’m quite handy in a fight.”

  “You are unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” She lost another piece of her heart to him in that moment. This man would defy all to protect her—the woman tasked with killing his brother. “However, I have nothing grand to wear to such an occasion as a ball. I am a huntsman’s daughter, not a princess.”

  He pulled back enough to peer into her eyes. Amusement glittered in those brown depths, along with a stronger emotion she couldn’t identify. “And I am a wolf shifter who works for the good of my people, even if I am a prince. It’s fortunate I know a fairy who is fantastic with a sewing needle.” He winked and rolled them both over until she straddled his waist. His newly aroused length brushed her backside. “She excels at last minute projects and would love to dress a stubborn daughter of the forest.”

  Averell smiled. She leaned forward and captured his lips with hers. Perhaps it was love after all.

  CHAPTER 9

  QUINN REFRAINED from pacing the length of the ballroom where couples swirled over the polished marble dance floor. The ball had begun precisely at nine o’clock sharp that evening, and now it was half past.

  Where the devil is she?

  After the interlude they’d shared the night before, he’d escorted her back to the castle, sneaking in the secret door he always used for his nightly runs. At her bedchamber, he argued with himself about being a gentleman over passing the remainder of the night in her bed. In the end, he’d ignored the pull of his wolf as well as the unspoken question in her eyes. He’d seen her tucked beneath her covers with the promise he’d meet her for breakfast.

  In the morning, he had indeed escorted her into the sun room, where the only introduction he’d been obliged to perform had been with the servants, for his family remained abed. The meal had been pleasant enough and afterward, he made certain she was closeted away with the fairy, who had been delighted to come to the castle on short notice to produce a ball gown fit for a princess—or a huntsman’s daughter as the case was.

  He jumped when his brother laid a hand on his shoulder. The action yanked him back into the moment. “Damnation, Henry. You could have warned me you were lurking about.”

  His brother laughed. He brushed a piece of dust from the sleeve of the immaculate sleeve of his navy military uniform. “I did. A few times, but you were woolgathering and scowling at everyone who passed.” Henry frowned. “Relax, brother. Your lady love will not harm me tonight.”

  “She’s not…” Quinn let his words trail away, for what was the point of voicing a protest when it was true? He’d fallen in love with the woman in the span of three days. Stranger things had happened, yet this development still gripped him with shock. Him. In love. “Oh hell.”

  Henry snorted. “Indeed.” He looked Quinn up and down. “I’m surprised you donned your military dress. You’d always vowed never to wear the uniform again.”

  “Yes, well, Father does enjoy seeing us uncomfortable.” The white jacket, decorated with scarlet lapels with golden braids and epaulets, along with the white breeches made him feel as starched and scratchy. He didn’t wish for the reminder of that time in his life, for he’d much rather live in the now.

  “Nice touch, though. Very regal.” Henry chuckled. “Who knew you could clean up so well?” He glanced at the passing couples and his mirth faded. “Of course tonight you would have such fortune on your side, while I’m stuck with unappealing choices.”

  “I do not envy you this night.” Not that Quinn had ever envied his brother. “I do, however, pity you.” He refrained from laughing outright even as his wolf grew increasingly restless inside. The requisite evening clothes
he’d had to don annoyed him, as did the fact he’d had to trim the beard until it was but a shadow of its former self. But for this one night, he would play the part of the prince if only to show Averell some of the pageantry his life contained, the life that now seemed more pointless and ridiculous if she wouldn’t be in it.

  “Then we are of the same mindset, for I pity you this night as well,” Henry said as he caught Quinn’s gaze. “It is not an easy choice your woman must make. I don’t know what I would do in her stead.” He shrugged. “Either way you will be the one hurt.”

  A grimace pulled at Quinn’s lips. “Not if I can help it.” He narrowed his eyes. “Security has been heightened. All of our guards are on notice. I have done all I can, but I will not let you or her out of my sight.”

  “If worse comes to worse, we can both shift.”

  “And open the family up to greater scandal.” Though, the idea appealed. As the beast, any threat would be put down in short order. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  Henry cleared his throat. “Somehow, I think our attention will be otherwise occupied for at least a little while.” He nudged Quinn with an elbow. “Look.”

  “How can I not?” he whispered in answer to his brother’s command.

  At the end of the ballroom, waiting at the top of a grand marble staircase, two women stood surveying the scene below. One was a tall blonde wearing a sparkling gown of blue satin, while the other was a brunette.

  “Averell.” He breathed her name as he stared in open-mouthed shock. “My God, I’ve never seen her like that.”

  No longer was her hair plaited. Now, it was worn long, swept back with glittering combs that revealed the graceful line of her neck. The gown the fairy seamstress had created must have been stitched with magic for all it shimmered with Averell’s every movement. Made of a greenish blue silk shot with golden gaze and thread, glimpses of a moss green underskirt peeked out with each step. The full skirting flowed about the floor, much like a living entity attached to her form. Matching green glass beads sparkled along her low-cut bodice of navy velvet and short sleeves of delicate lace, while peridot jewels winked from her ears and neck. She resembled a spring flower in the flesh.

  “Breathtaking,” Henry murmured, but his attention was not on Quinn’s lady.

  Then the women moved and descended the stairs while the bulk of the ball attendees watched.

  Quinn shook his head in the hopes of dispelling the web Averell had wrapped around him. “Watch your back, Henry.” He gave his brother a nudge in the direction of the mysterious blonde who looked about her with wide eyes.

  “You do the same,” he murmured and then he forged a path through the crowded ballroom, apparently unconcerned about the patterns of the dance he interrupted in his quest to reach the woman’s side.

  The man wouldn’t need a six-month courtship period from the looks of things. Quinn couldn’t help his grin. Already, his brother was besotted and he’d not yet met the female.

  He snorted. The irony was not lost on him.

  “Quinn.” Averell had reached his side. She laid a gloved hand upon his sleeve. “You are quite handsome tonight.” The truth of her statement reflected in her eyes as looked him up and down. “How splendid and official you are.”

  Perhaps it hadn’t been quite a mistake to don the uniform, for he reveled in the adoration she bestowed upon him. “Thank you, and you—”

  But she interrupted him. “I feel ridiculous in this costume,” she murmured and when she met his gaze, hers roiled with confusion and embarrassment and more than a little anxiety. “I want my arrows and the leggings that give me freedom of movement.”

  “Despite that, you are beautiful.” Aware that several people in the room stared and not caring, he took possession of her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back. “Enjoy the moment, sweeting, for after midnight, everything returns to normal and none of this façade will exist. We will once more become denizens of the woods instead of the objects of public scrutiny we are now.” He cocked an eyebrow. “And your arrows will not land back in your hands until after the ball.”

  Rosy color blazed in her cheeks, from annoyance or pleasure, he didn’t know, but it gave life to her face, and he fell all the harder. “Yet you left the dagger behind. Why?”

  Why indeed. Perhaps it was error on his part, but this night was already fraught with intrigue and he wished for her to have a weapon to defend herself if need be—a weapon not quite as intrusive as the bow and quiver. “I can take it back if you wish.”

  “No, I…” She blew out a breath. “I will need it later. For now, it brings me a modicum of comfort.” Briefly, she brushed her free hand along the side of her skirts. “Where is your brother?”

  His heart sank a bit. It would seem she hadn’t relinquished her task. “Currently, he is dancing with the blonde woman with whom you arrived.”

  Her blush deepened. “I… I wasn’t aware of anyone else once I saw you.” Tender devotion twinkled in her eyes as she held his gaze.

  “Ah, well then.” It was quite something to know someone cared so much for him. He threaded her hand through the crook of his elbow and kept his hand over hers. For the moment, best keep emotions out of it and concentrate on the matter at hand. “Even you cannot mean to dispose of a prince while dancing.”

  The tendons in her neck moved with a hard swallow. “I have mere hours left to me.”

  “I can think of a few things much more pleasurable we can fill those hours with instead,” he whispered and adored the light of interest that briefly lit her lake blue eyes.

  “While that does have immense appeal, it took a team of servants ninety minutes to make me look like this; it’s why I’m late. I don’t wish to muss this gown simply for a rushed bout of lovemaking.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she continued and held his gaze. “Though, if I live to see the dawn, you may carry me off to watch the sunset and have your wicked way with me.” She tightened her fingers on his arm. “But first we have to survive.”

  “We will.” Though her words set fire to his blood, the tears welling in her eyes sent cold fear trailing down his spine. The odds had stacked, and not in their favor.

  “Know that I don’t want to do this, yet…”

  “I do know it.” As the orchestra prepared for the next set and couples filled the floor in anticipation of a new dance, Quinn swept her into a free space and positioned her correctly in his arms. “However, I promised you I would claim all of your dances. We might as well start until things become interesting.”

  Or until he could no longer hold her back then his own choice would kick in.

  TRUE TO HIS WORD, he spent the evening in Averell’s arms… on the dance floor. Society would surely gossip about his intentions on the morrow but he didn’t concern himself with that, not while every turn about the room brought joy to her face and affection sparkling in her eyes. Unsure and stumbling at first, she eventually gained confidence and performed the steps of each set flawlessly. They’d only paused for refreshment and to catch their breath.

  And with each dance, with every trill of her laughter and press of her hands, he fell deeper in love with her.

  We need her. His wolf restlessly paced within him, for he’d not been able to shift this night due to the ball.

  The urge for action crawled over his skin as he maneuvered Averell into a trajectory that would take them past the thrown open glass doors leading to the back gardens. What he wanted now was to take her into a shadowed corner and reacquaint himself with her lips, explore the creaminess of her décolletage that was too much on display in that dress.

  It drew close to midnight and the end of the ball. She hadn’t made a move to end his brother’s life. Neither had her mother, the queen, appeared. Perhaps there was no need to worry. He smiled at her, heartened by the fact her eyes darkened as if she knew exactly what he wished to do. They were well-matched indeed.

  “Shall we find a quiet spot to take in the air?” he whispered as they
gained the doors.

  “Please.” She kept pace as he led her outside. “All of these people have me wishing for the privacy of the woods.”

  The night swallowed them and cooled his overheated skin.

  Run. Want to run. There was a decided whine in his wolf’s voice.

  Not yet. Later, I promise.

  Averell cocked her head as she looked at him. “You are talking with your beast, aren’t you?” She tugged him farther into the gardens, along a path made of crushed shells, and the full folds of her skirt flowed about her like a magical cloud.

  “Yes, I’m communicating with my wolf. He’s anxious for his nightly run.” He let her lead, for the trail would eventually carry them to his favorite part of the gardens—his mother’s rose arbor. She’d planted them as a bride, tended to them every chance she had. Now he understood it was her way of escaping palace life and its rigors. We all have our ways of coping.

  “I am keeping him from his daily exercise.”

  “Yes, but he can manage, for this night is pleasurable to me.” If he could always have her in his arms, perhaps he wouldn’t hate court events so much.

  The first peals of the clock in the village rang out on the stillness of the night. Midnight had come. Dread crawled over his skin. It was time. Either Henry would die or Averell would. He had to find a way to save them both.

  She paused, pivoted and closed the distance between them. If she heard the chimes of the bells, she didn’t let on. Pressing her lips to his ear, she whispered, “Behave yourself, beastie. I have plans for you both later.”

  Quinn stifled a groan while his groin hardened. Before he could reach for her or even kiss her, she gasped. The clock was nearly done ringing out the time. “What?”

  “Your brother is here, in the gardens. Alone.” She paused. “He looks as if he’s searching frantically for something… or someone.”

  Where the hell had Henry’s lady gone?

  “I must go.” She slipped from him, and hitching up her skirts, she ran in Henry’s direction.