She jumps, startled. I snuck up on her. “Damn it, Cleary! Don’t sneak up on people. Or they might staple a bell to you. And stop calling me Mads.”
I snicker. “Sure thing Mads. Are you going to be okay?”
“Hell no. Bastien just claimed a mate, I’m thrilled for him, but Mom will be a nightmare. Dad is maintaining a vigilant eye on the niece I never knew I had. Which leaves me to bear the brunt of mom’s tirade. It is going to be of epic proportions, I assure you. I ordinarily crash at Bastien’s house when she gets like that, but they have enough to work out right now without having little sister underfoot.” She’s animated when she talks. Her hands wave all over.
“You’re welcome at my apartment,” I offer.
“Cleary Neil I am not a notch on anyone’s bedpost.” She punches me in the arm.
Rubbing the spot I say, “Whoa! I didn’t say you were. If you need a place to hide out, you got one. On the couch. Relax.”
“Oh. Okay. Um, thanks. If she gets too bad, I might come by. I better get going. Maybe I can get home and lock myself in my room before Mom gets home.”
I watch her leave. Madalaina is a good girl. I pray to God that I am mated before she fully comes into her own. Otherwise, I am a complete goner.
CHAPTER 7
Rachel
What the hell just happened!? Bastien has a lot of explaining to do. What did he mean he claimed me? The biting thing wasn’t bad, but I shouldn’t have almost orgasmed from a flesh wound. I sense him before I see him approaching. Bastien seats himself on the bench touching me. He’s tying his shoes.
“Does your neck hurt?” He won’t look at me.
I touch the bite. “Not much, maybe a little tender. Miguel wanted to rip my throat out. In comparison, this is excellent.”
He sweeps me up into his arms. Sharp green eyes stare into mine. “Don’t compare me to him. We’re not anything alike.”
I lift my hand to cup his cheek. “I know you aren’t. I don’t understand how, but I know.” He hugs me closer. I lay my head against him listening to his breathing. “My world is very complicated,” I say.
He doesn’t say anything. We head for the door and his car. He deposits me in the passenger seat, even belted me in. Tenderly he pushes my hair over my shoulder. “I love your hair. The color, it’s like gold.” Bastien rubs a strand between his fingers. “What happened in there, I don’t expect you to understand. I promise to explain and answer all your questions. Have patience with me?”
He hasn’t given me a reason to not trust him. I am drawn to him, and the idea of being his wife doesn’t scare me. Taking a deep breath, I give him a timid smile. “A good mate would trust, right?”
He rewards me with a smile of his own. “I will be a good mate, Rachel.”
We don’t talk on the drive to Bastien’s house. We’re both still trying to process. Bastien was a bachelor this morning. Now he has a wife, mate, whatever. Still, it sounds so final. I remain apprehensive about the whole, “She will be bedded by morning,” comment.
Bastien lives in a nicer section of town. A subdivision with wooded lots; all of the houses have extra acreage to give it a pastoral feel. Bastien parks his SUV in the garage. We enter the house through the kitchen. It connects to a dining room, and a living room with a large flat screen TV and several game consoles—guy stuff. Upstairs are three bedrooms. One is used as an office. The other was set up as a spare for company. A woman's touch is evident in the decor.
“Madalaina sleeps here a lot.”
A far cry from the girlish decorations I saw earlier today at the Bonvillian house. The two bedrooms are as different as night and day. Madalaina is a puzzle I want to solve. Which room represents Madalaina and which is a mask? The twinge of jealousy I get when I observe so many feminine objects is squelched. I’m already attached to him. I know we ought to get to the business of sealing the deal, so to speak. Bastien must sense my indecision because he steers me toward the master bedroom with a hand to the small of my back.
“Would you like to shower? You still have blood on your neck.”
I give him a stiff nod. In the bathroom, the glass and tile shower remind me of the testing tank. I start shaking. PTSD, anyone? Bastien wants to hug me, but I put my hand out between us. I am not ready to fall apart yet. If he closes those arms around me, I will be lost. He respects my need for distance and leaves.
I undress and step into the shower. The warm water runs over my body washing the tension away. I am alive and safe. With Bastien by my side, I will find some way to carve out a new life. My worst fear is that I’m going to wake up and be back in the Institute. The shower door opens, and a naked Bastien steps in. The muscles in his chest and stomach are neatly defined. Bastien has a large fleur de lis tattoo on his right shoulder over his bicep.
“I tried to stay away. I couldn’t last any longer. I’ve overheard other males talk about the need to bond after marking a mate, but I always thought they were being over dramatic.”
He needs me. His face tells me he’s afraid I will reject him. Instead, I hug and press myself against him.
Bastien strokes my back lazily. “Your bandage is falling off, but the bullet wound is healed. Too good actually. That’s unreal for a human.”
“Really? I noticed it was doing a lot better when I woke up. Is it completely healed now?” I ask concerned.
“The hole from the bullet is closed up. It’ll probably scar, I can't say for sure with the Arcana. It's an angry red but seems to be healthy. Does it hurt?”
Experimentally I rotate my arm. “No. It’s stiff, but there’s no pain.”
“We should probably get you cleaned up before we use up all the hot water in the house. Turn around and I’ll soap you up.”
He washes my hair then starts on my body. His soapy hands are on my shoulders and work down my back; massaging away every ache. After he finishes with my back, he moves to my front. Bastien traces small circles on my breasts with his fingertips. The circles grow a fraction every revolution but never touched the nipple. When he runs a finger on the underside of my right breast, I gasp. My nipples beg to be touched, but he ignores them. The ache between my legs is worse than the one growing in my breast. Bastien’s right hand wanders down my ribcage and around to my stomach. He swirls around my belly button before moving on. They journey downward to reach the apex of my thighs. My knees weaken. He divides my folds, teasing the most sensitive part of my body with the pad of his finger. A shiver rolls through me.
“So responsive.” His lips tease the shell of my ear. “I can’t wait to get my mouth on you. I want to hear you scream for me.”
His fingers work me until I’m on the brink of orgasm. His hand moves to plunge a finger into my heat. My head drops back, I closed my eyes and cry out. He didn’t doesn’t stop or pull his finger free until the last ripple of my orgasm subsides. Bastien kisses the mark where he bit me. I tilt my head to look at him. His green eyes are so bright they glow, fangs grow longer in his mouth. The man is handsome even when he ought to be scary.
“I’m clean now. Why don't we take this to bed?” I purr.
His gaze turns predatory. He twists the knob for the water off. I walk out of the shower and towards the bed, looking over my shoulder once to check if he’s following. Bastien is on my heels. I crawl onto the bed. Bastien flips me to my back and follows me down. I meet his lips halfway for a kiss. He nips at my bottom lip then sinks into the kiss. The passion consumes me. My head is bracketed by his hands on either side.
He breaks the kiss with a groan and lays his forehead against mine. “I need to slow down. I don’t want to hurt you, but damn I want you so bad I burn.”
“I’m tougher than I look.”
He laughs. “I noticed.”
“I want you too, Bastien. I’m sure slow is nice, and we should try it sometime, but I’m on fire too. I need you. I think I will die if I don't have you,” I say breathlessly.
“It’s the mate bond. I didn’t know if it would affect
you the same way.”
“Please, Bastien. I trust you.”
With his knee, he nudges my legs wider and settles between them. His fingers dip into me.
“God, you’re so wet.”
He positions himself at the entrance to my pussy. I peer down my body at his cock. It is long and thick. Bastien casts one last look to make sure I was still with him and slides into me. My gasp meets his moan. A lack of experience on my part and his girth make for a tight fit. He gives me a minute to adjust. His first thrust brings me halfway to orgasm. I shove my fingers into his hair and hold on. The more worked up I get, the more I can feel the Arcana buzzing in my blood. Now’s not a good time, Arcana. Each stroke hits me deeper. He builds speed and I arched up off the bed. Bastien latches onto my right breast with his mouth. It sends me crashing into another orgasm. He thrusts two more times and I feel him shudder over me. He buries himself to the hilt. Hot jets of semen pump inside me.
“Oh God, Rachel. I don’t think my heart can take what you do to me.” His head rests in the crook of my neck.
The mention of hearts is sobering. Bastien and I are not in love. He didn’t choose me because he wanted me. Some misguided sense of duty forced Bastien to mate me. If I’m not careful, I will fall for him. My heart needs protection from itself.
CHAPTER 8
Subject #634860
Something big happened. I don’t know what transpired, but everyone is on edge. Richland is driving me harder than normal. In all the wasted years I’ve been locked up, they have never been so panicked. The medical personnel are always frightened of me, but this isn’t about me. Whoever caused all the trouble, I hope they keep it up. I need the distraction. If I can keep the focus off me long enough, I might finally be ready to move. Planning and waiting. Patience is a virtue. I must restrain myself. I will break out, then they will pay in blood. I intend to bathe in it. I will crush my enemies and leave a trail of corpses behind me.
CHAPTER 9
Winter
I don’t belong here. Truthfully, I don’t belong anywhere. As a fairy born of both courts, I am trapped between them. My name was given to me as a reminder of my dual citizenship. A slap in the face is more like it. Winter Summersun. My mother is the daughter of the Summer Queen. She’s a Royal Red with the trademark flaming red hair. My father was the bastard of the Winter King. Their brief dalliance resulted in me. The Royal Red gene combined with dad’s Winter Court white blond produced my lavender hair. Mom says my hair is my first failure. I’m on the record of successors to both dominions, but I will never sit on either throne.
I hate being in Fairy. Before Dad died, I had a place to stay where I felt someone wanted me. Dad knew what it was like to be unwanted. At his funeral, I threw a fit when Mom said that she was happy to be rid of him. You can’t scream and cuss at a Royal Red in public, even if she’s your mother. She had me banished from Fairy. I’m fine living in the mortal realm, but the binding of my Fae magic is painful. Magic is part of the Fae, like breathing. I’ve been suffocating for going on three years now.
I met my two best friends at Lune Rouge. Madalaina Bonvillian is a werewolf and Tsura Tymar is a vampire. Our species don’t play nice in closed quarters historically, but we make it work. We bonded over our mommy issues. Madalaina's mom is also a mentally unbalanced raging bitch. Tsura never knew her mom. She was murdered for being the human wife of a vampire a super long time ago. I could use their support right now, but they would be even less welcome in Fairy than me. I’m here to petition on behalf of the Livia Bonvillian. If I had not called in some huge favors, I would have been executed for trespassing in Fairy. Banished Fae aren’t allowed to visit for any reason. Ianthe, a siren, owed me. I cashed in my chips to get here safely.
“Well if it isn’t my favorite little rebel.”
I groan. The voice belongs to Kiril, my uncle. The only family member who willingly talks to me. I wish he wouldn’t. Kiril is a classic Summer Court Fae. Every word out of his mouth is a well-placed instrument to further his plans. Judging by the fancy clothes he wears I’d say he elevated his social standing since we last spoke. Nobody climbs a social ladder like Kiril.
“They sent you to punish me?”
“That hurts, really,” he mocks with a hand over his heart. “You couldn’t obtain anything finer to wear?”
“It wouldn’t matter what I wore. Nothing mortal will reach court standards. I can’t access my magic, so I didn’t bother.”
I have on a nice dress, but it pales in comparison to what the court ladies are wearing. I won’t lie, I miss the clothes. I loved the formal dresses. Not much call for fancy frocks bartending at the Lune Rouge.
“Banishment is a bitch, but then so is your mother,” he smirks. He would know, she’s his sister. I’ve heard Mom loved to torture Kiril as a child. He doesn’t like her and does anything he can to piss her off. Probably why he talks to me. Amalia was the sister closest to him. That would be Livia’s mother. Quite a tangled web that wove its way into my life last night.
“Preaching to the choir,” I mumble.
“Come on, you were only granted a limited time for an audience. Your Grandmother is waiting.” Kiril turns and leads me to the Queen.
The butterflies in my stomach are on fire. I follow Kiril to the throne room. I want to run and hide. My grandmother has flayed people alive in the dining room for not laughing at her joke. A pair of gilt doors open, and I stand in front of my family. My Grandmother, mother, and aunts all sit prepared to judge me.
“Queen Tanith, I present your granddaughter. Princess Winter Summersun.” Kiril tries to put flare into the introduction. It falls flat.
She looks unimpressed. “What are you wearing? Did you hope I would kill you on the spot? I don’t need another bloody martyr. Get her out Kiril.”
“My Queen, Winter is banished. Her wardrobe was not meant to offend. Her magic was bound in order to pay penance for crimes against her mother. All who view her recognize she’s lowly and not worth compassion.”
His own mother and he calls her My Queen. Our family is messed up.
Grandmother is pleased. “All right Kiril. You campaigned hard for her five minutes. She may have them.”
Kiril bartered for my audience? What does he want out of this?
“I wish to bring the court’s attention to a lost Fae. The child of Amalia was discovered. She’s suffering and needs healing.”
Tanith looks mildly interested. “Who is the child’s father?”
“A Lycan noble, the eldest son of the Alpha Prime, Athan Bonvillian.”
Play up the royal angle.
“An illegitimate half Lycan? I doubt my Amalia would want me to claim such a creature in her name.” Tanith sneers disdainfully.
“She’s Royal Red. She’s her mother’s mirror,” I plead.
“She has no place here. Neither do you.”
Thank goodness for small favors. I wouldn’t want to fit in around here.
She dismisses me. I look at my mother, but she won't make eye contact. Fine. I will find help elsewhere.
Kiril steers me out of the throne room with a hand on my shoulder. Out of hearing distance, he says to me, “I’m sorry, Winter. I had hoped her love for Amalia might make a difference. In my heart, I knew Mother would never go for it.” He’s saddened by his own admission.
“I was stupid to think she would care.”
“Shh! Not so loud! Do you want to die?” Kiril pulls me quickly away from prying ears.
“Why did you get me the hearing? You don’t expect me to believe you care what happens to the little girl?” I ask him sarcastically.
“You don’t know nearly as much as you would like to think you do. Mother is right, she has no place here. Doesn’t mean she should die. You’re Fae on both sides, but your dual court status makes you unpopular. What kind of life would a half Lycan child endure here? Amalia had a kind heart. She wouldn’t condemn her own child.”
He’s right, damn it.
“I bare
ly remember Amalia,” I whisper. “She was kind to me. I remember she would sing to me when I was afraid at night. Mother berated her for it, but she didn’t care.”
“She was a sweet woman and she paid a price for it. No one treated her right. She was too easy to take advantage of. My sister’s mistake is how I learned if you are soft in Fairy, you will be a victim.” Kiril looks at the floor pensively.
“You should come meet your niece.”
“I can’t. If she really does look just like Amalia, I can’t. Seek out the vampire doctor, he knows many things. He’s been around damn near as long as rocks.”
Vampires? Does he want to get me killed?!
“They won’t see me. They hate the Fae almost as much as the Fae hate them.”
“And with good reason. Here, take this,” he mutters as he slips a tome into my coat pocket.
I chuckle. “A book? Since when do you carry books around?”
Kiril isn’t the studious type. He’s more the handsome playboy without an intelligent thought in his head.
“Since I figured my mother wouldn’t lift a finger to help the ailing child of my dearly departed sister. Are you always such a smartass? I’ll work on a backup plan just in case. If you ever tell anyone I gave you the book, I will swear I never saw it in my life. You’ll be executed if they learn you have it. Guard it well. After you read it, you will know how to get an audience with the Doctor.”
CHAPTER 10
Varian
I love fairies. For dinner. Most vampires think Fae blood tastes like shit. They avoid it at all costs. It isn’t bad, a bit off compared to other species. The flavor isn’t what I like. The magic is. I can feel the magic humming inside as I drink. Truth is I fucking despise Fairies. Pain in the ass is all they are.
This one at the door is hot especially with that pastel purple hair. Which court does she belong to with hair such a color? Winter Court is all the blondes with a smattering of brunettes. Summer court only has damn redhead twits and raven headed Fae.
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