Reaper: Faction 14 (The Isa Fae Collection)

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Reaper: Faction 14 (The Isa Fae Collection) Page 13

by Gwen Knight


  Shame heated my cheeks. And here I thought I’d been sneaky.

  “Dask had never agreed with what little freedoms my father did give you.”

  Some freedoms.

  “But you were my father’s pet.” He winced. “Sorry.”

  I nodded. I understood what he meant.

  “So once Dask lured you back to the city, he had Leith take control of you and lock you up. That was the first clue for me. My father never would have agreed to that. He might have treated you harshly, but sometimes there was this…softness to his eyes when he spoke of you.”

  My jaw dropped. “What?”

  “I don’t think he thought of you as his child, but there was something there. Respect. He just didn’t know how to show such emotion to a human. To him, giving you your own room was his means of protection. You were under his care.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t even imagine that. Arik had locked me away, threatened to kill those I’d loved in order to maintain control. That didn’t smack of respect to me. But now wasn’t the time to argue.

  “I did some investigating and found my father’s horse in the stables. So how did he get to Estback?” He shifted his weight forward until he leaned on his thighs. “After that, it wasn’t hard to find my father. Dask had left him in his room.”

  “How…” I bit my lip, then braved asking the question. “How do you know it was Dask?”

  His brows furrowed. “Some things you just know. Why else would he have glamoured himself to look like my father? Instead of waiting for my father to return to bring you back? Why else would he have blown up the Foundry? I suspected Dask the moment I found my father, but it was the Foundry that cemented it for me. Dask was following through with suggestions he’d made to my father many times over. He never liked the Foundry. Felt it was a waste of resources to keep them alive. He’d always told my father to kill them all and harvest their power. Everything was too coincidental, you know?”

  “What about those hundred and three witches he claimed were dead? Was that all a lie?”

  “Afraid not,” Oren said. “Dask did attack Estback. He just wasn’t there for the event.”

  I sighed. More unnecessary death. “Does Osvea even know your father is dead?”

  He shook his head. It wasn’t until he looked away that I realized there were tears shimmering in his eyes. “I don’t think so. I think Dask is feeding them lies. He’s pretending my father is still alive. Telling people that he’s still in Estback and left Dask in charge. Eventually, people will start to ask questions.”

  “What about your father’s…body?”

  “I’m sure Dask would have taken care of that as well. He’s not stupid, though he is incredibly power hungry and rash.”

  I nodded.

  “I think he intends to tell them that my father was killed in Estback. Some might believe him, others will question why my father went alone. If he truly meant to wage war, why didn’t the soldiers accompany his travels? If he meant to negotiate with the leader of Estback, he still would have taken a small group of advisors. There are flaws to Dask’s plan, which gives us the advantage.”

  Understanding dawned on me. “You think we can sway a few to our side.”

  “My people aren’t stupid. And most are fiercely loyal to my father. My family in general. They won’t tolerate such a crime. Markos’ plan is a decent one. But I want the city to support me. I want them to rise up and show Dask that his actions will not be tolerated. And the only way to do that is to tell them the truth.”

  “What’s your plan then?”

  “I want to do what Markos suggested. We break into the estate, we find Dask, you reap him. But you leave him with enough atern for us to haul him out in front of the whole city where I can tell them of his crimes. When they rise up against him, whatever punishment he’s given will be seen fitting. If we don’t do this, I’ll be seen as a usurper. They won’t take my word if Dask is already dead.”

  I blinked at Oren, stunned by his plan.

  He caught my eye and shrugged. “What?”

  “I just…I never thought…”

  “What, that I’d possess a brain along with my natural good looks?”

  My mouth cracked into a smile, and before I knew it, I was laughing. It felt good after the night before, to feel something other than pain. At first, the sound startled me, but then I realized there would always be laughter. Life hadn’t stopped because my father had died.

  “Have you told Markos about this?”

  He shook his head. “And I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Oren sighed and scooted over on the bed until he could lean against the pillows. “My uncle is very shrewd. The moment I found my father, I reached out to him. I’d always known he lived out here. My father wasn’t aware that Markos and I kept in contact. I’m not as active in witch’s rights as he is, but we’d had some discussions about it in the past, and I always saw his points. I knew I’d need his help if I wanted to make my brother pay. But Markos has always wanted the throne. Ever since my father stole it from him.”

  “Your father stole the throne from Markos?”

  “He’s the eldest,” Oren stated. “But my grandparents didn’t agree with Markos’ politics. He was slated to take the throne, but he spoke of freedom for all humans, to integrate them into our society, to find a means to share atern amongst each other rather than resorting to stealing it. When my father learned of you, he and my grandparents conspired together and had Markos removed. When Markos learned from my grandfather that the throne would pass to Arik, he took the news poorly. It resulted in a fight, which…” Oren gestured toward his eye.

  “Wow. Your family…”

  “Politics,” he said with a sigh. “All part and parcel of ruling a city. We breathe deceit and betrayal. But the people always stand behind us because we provide for them. Which my father did very well.”

  “So you think Markos means to use you to rule?”

  “That, or intends on killing me as well. I haven’t been able to suss out his true intentions yet. I just know I don’t trust him.” His gaze settled on me. “Not like I trust you.”

  “Me?” I whispered. “You don’t even know me.”

  “Don’t I? You’ve lived in the same estate as me for most of your life. I watched you grow up, Keira.”

  Shock widened my eyes. “You did?”

  “Everyone did. Maybe you don’t realize how pivotal you were to my father’s rule. I know you’re loyal—otherwise you wouldn’t have put up with my father for so many years.”

  “I was not loyal to your father.”

  “I didn’t mean him. I meant loyal to your father and your friends. You never once fought against my father. You did as he commanded.”

  I dipped my head. I wasn’t entirely proud of that. “And look where that got me.”

  “You’re alive,” Oren whispered. “And some of your people are too. You did what you had to. I admire that about you.”

  “It was cowardice.”

  “Maybe. But there was a bravery to what you did as well. You gave up your life so others could live.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t agree with what he was saying.

  “Regardless, I know I can trust you. I know that once you give your loyalty to someone, it’s forever.”

  “Is that why…” I paused and considered my words. I needed to know, but a part of me feared asking.

  “Why, what?”

  I swallowed and forced out the words. “You kissed me. Was that just another manipulation? Thinking that if you could make me like you, I would side with you?”

  He stared at me in stunned silence. “Blessed winter, Keira. No. Why would you even think that?”

  “I know how the fae work,” I confessed. “You might have watched me, but I watched Arik and everyone else. Manipulation is part of the game you all play. Who can outwit whom, who controls whom. Power is everything. If you could make me fall for you, I’d…”

  He gra
sped my hands. “I understand your natural distrust of my people. And I understand your distrust of me. I’m Arik’s son, after all. I don’t know what I can say to convince you that I would never try to manipulate you in such a way.”

  “Then why?” I asked.

  “Why what?”

  My mouth quirked in a half-smile. “Why did you kiss me?”

  He ducked his head and peered up at me from beneath a thick fringe of dark lashes. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “If I have to ask, then obviously not.”

  “You know…” He lifted a hand and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “I never thought I’d like you. Yes, I’d watched you, but I’d always seen you as a tool for my father. I don’t know when that changed. Maybe when Dask destroyed the Foundry. Maybe when you followed me into the sewers. Either way, I realized you were more than that. You were a person. You mourned, you laughed…” He shifted his weight next to me. “Then there was that moment when we came out of the sewer. You saw the moon. You tipped your head back and just…breathed. I realized then, that was the first moment in a long time you’d ever felt what it means to be free. You became more to me than a tool.”

  “Glad to hear it,” I chuckled.

  “But then…when you came back for me in the Foundry. You could have taken your friends and vanished. You could have left those guards to kill me, and you didn’t. You put aside everything to save my life. I think that was the moment for me.”

  “What moment?”

  His mouth curled. “When I fell for you.”

  Before I could respond, he leaned toward me and claimed my mouth.

  This kiss was different than yesterday’s. It was full of passion and desire, his mouth hard against mine, and his hands firm. For a moment, I considered pushing him away, telling him now wasn’t the time. Maybe he was sure about his feelings, but I wasn’t.

  But the moment his hands cupped my neck and his fingers brushed just behind my ear, I was lost.

  I wanted this.

  I wanted him.

  14

  In all of Faction Fourteen’s history, there has never been a human and fae coupling. The two groups are kept separate for fear of diluting the fae blood lines. Some believe, however, that the mixing of the two lines might be exactly what we need to gain the ability to replenish our own magic and share with the humans. Few are willing to test this theory, however.

  — From the journal of Maya Yarden, Healer

  I threw all caution to the wind. Yes, he was fae. But it was Oren. The one who had saved me from the dungeon, who had given me my freedom, who had promised to help me. He was nothing like his father. If anything, he was the ruler Osvea needed.

  And he was the one my heart seemed to long for.

  I kissed him with fervor, my mouth hot against his, his tongue slipping past my lips without pause. The feel of him against me, the taste…it was almost too much. I’d never felt this way with anyone before. Not that there’d been anyone other than Logan.

  Taking the lead, I rose onto my knees and guided Oren back onto the pillows, my fingers diving beneath his shirt. I ran them up his chest, my pulse quickening when his breath caught.

  I grasped the bottom of his shirt and tugged it up, breaking from the kiss momentarily to yank it over his head. I paused then, my bottom lip caught between my teeth as I took in the sight of him bare chested. Every inch of him was muscled, his waist tapered, and his pants riding low beneath his hips.

  “Glamour?” I asked, curious how far the fae went to appear attractive.

  Oren chuckled and shook his head. “I actually haven’t worn a glamour since I was a kid. No need to.”

  Laughter slipped from my lips. “Think highly of yourself, do you?”

  “I have every reason to.”

  Some people thought arrogance was an unattractive quality. But even I had to admit, he was right.

  I continued my perusal, my fingers drifting down to his slacks.

  Before I could pop them open, his hands grasped my wrists, stilling them.

  I met his gaze, then lifted an eyebrow in question.

  “Wait…” He seemed so unsure of himself in this moment, his eyes shining with desire, but his jaw tight, as though it’d taken an immense amount of strength to stop me. “I didn’t say what I said so that you’d sleep with me.”

  “I know,” I murmured.

  “And your father just died.”

  A splash of cold water. I swallowed and stared down at him, unsure of where he was going with this.

  “Your emotions are all over the place right now. Believe me, I know. I…I don’t want you to sleep with me, and then regret it afterward.”

  I canted my head and regarded him. “Why would you think I’d regret it?”

  “Because I’m fae,” he said matter-of-factly. “I know how you feel about us.”

  “Hmm.”

  I hummed as I trailed my fingers up his stomach, my nails circling his belly button and toying with his light dusting of stomach hair. His breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered shut as his cheeks flushed with heat.

  “It doesn’t bother me that you’re fae,” I finally admitted.

  His eyes flashed open, and he pinned me with a disbelieving stare. “That’s what I’m talking about. I don’t think you know what you want right now.”

  I leaned down until my chest brushed his. “I know I want you.”

  “Blessed winter, Keira, don’t say that. Not unless you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. I felt things before my father died,” I assured him. “Why do you think I came back for you in the Foundry?”

  With a rough growl, Oren flipped us over and braced my head against the pillows. “Because you needed me.”

  “Because I care about you. I won’t lie, I don’t know what that means yet. Everything has been so crazy that I haven’t had a moment to stop and think. But I’ve felt things for you. Things I was afraid to admit. And when you kissed me yesterday, I panicked. Your uncle called you a rake. Hell, even I know you’ve been with a lot of females. And I’ve been with no one. You were always the charming, handsome price the noble women fawned over.”

  “I don’t want you to fawn over me,” he confessed. “There’s no emotion in that. I want you. Just you.”

  “And I want you,” I whispered.

  “What about Logan? I won’t be a replacement for him.”

  “Logan…” My heart twisted. “Logan is my best friend. He always will be. He wants more, I know that. But I don’t.”

  “You don’t,” Oren repeated. “Big strapping guy like him…”

  I grinned at him. “Jealous?”

  “Hell yes. He has a place in your heart that I don’t.”

  I stretched up and claimed Oren’s mouth, our tongues engaging in a slow dance. When I broke from the kiss, I smiled up at him. “Logan doesn’t make me feel this way.”

  “Good. Let’s keep it like that, shall we?”

  Appeased, Oren swept down and kissed me, his tongue stealing all sense from me. He grasped my legs and wound them around his hips, then settled between them, his fingers working in tandem with his mouth. Everywhere he touched burned, and left my body aching for more.

  I’d never felt anything like this. It was addicting to feel such heat and pleasure scouring through my body. But it wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to play games and certainly didn’t believe slow and steady would win the race. I wanted him, and now wasn’t the time to take it easy.

  I shifted my hips against him, a perverse sense of satisfaction cresting within me when he responded with a deep groan. I could feel the truth behind his words. He certainly wanted me. I just hoped I’d be enough for him.

  Oren caught my wrists and eased my arms over my head. Every thought in my head vanished as he unleashed that wicked mouth of his on me. Teeth nibbled at my ears, his tongue catching my lobe. He drifted south, painting a trail of hot kisses down my neck and over my collarbone.

  When he reached my chest, he released my wrists
and slid his hands beneath my tunic, his fingertips grazing up my sides. I shuddered against him, my nipples tightening with expectation. He ran his thumbs over the hardened nubs, dragging a gasp from my lips.

  My tunic went next, gone and thrown across the room without so much as a wasted thought.

  “No bra,” he commented, his half-lidded gaze settling on my peaked chest.

  “Don’t need one,” I responded. I was small enough I could get away without constricting myself.

  “Mmm,” he leaned down and dragged his tongue over one of my nipples.

  I gasped and arched against him, my fingers digging into his back. He sealed his lips around it and gave a gentle pull, a sensation that bordered the cusp of painful, yet excited me all the more.

  “Oren,” I whispered.

  His gaze rolled up to mine, and he grinned before switching to the other.

  Only when I was delirious with desire did he drag his lips down the flat plane of my stomach. He dipped his fingers beneath my slacks and chuckled.

  “What?”

  “I’d only ever seen you in ratted dresses,” he confided. “When you came downstairs dressed like this, I almost lost it right there. The way these pants hugged your ass.” He cupped my rear as he spoke the words, and his tongue swiped against my abdomen. “I wanted to tear them off you in the kitchen. That would have been inappropriate, though,” he teased. “Imagine the others’ reactions.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh with him.

  “We’re in private now, so…”

  I sucked in a breath, surprised when my pants suddenly vanished, my undergarments with them.

  “Ah,” he settled back down with a contented sigh. “Much better.”

  I wasn’t sure what to expect, so when his tongue swept across my center, I nearly screamed. My hips surged upward as I clung to the sheets.

 

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