The Fae Queen's Warriors

by Tara West

  He plucked it and turned it over in his hand. It was as gray as a winter sky. He’d had gray hair in abundance when he pretended to be his late father. He had used charcoal to paint it, then rubbed dark circles under his eyes. But he’d washed it out days ago after he’d pretended to assassinate the former king. He rubbed the strand, hoping the hair still had the stain. The gray remained, the hair splitting like dead grass.

  He raced to the wardrobe. After whispering the password three times, he went into his secret garden and checked the barrel of life water. The seal on top seemed unchanged, the spigot still tightly shut. He looked around for signs of change. His heart pounded when he saw a glimmer on the ground. He trudged over to a row of flourishing, green plants and pulled a mirror shard out of the dirt. His queen had found a way into his secret chamber! His gaze shot to the barrel of life water, and he let out a strangled sob. She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have!

  KYRIA ENJOYED DOZING by the fire with Quin and Theron. When they took turns holding her and massaging her back and arms, she thought she’d gone to heaven.

  Boots crunched outside, and Titus pushed open the door, the frigid wind whistling behind him. He closed and bolted it. “This door needs to remain secure.”

  She sat up. Why was Titus worried when they were well within the walls of Periculi? “Where have you been?”

  After slipping off his boots and cloak, he knelt beside her with a burlap sack tucked under his arm. “Bartering.”

  “For what?”

  To her delight he pulled out a jar of honey and two round loaves of bread. “Where did you get this?”

  “From one of the old widows. I had to fix a crack in her chimney. That’s what took me so long.” He gave her a long look. “What have you three been up to?”

  Theron wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Finding heaven inside the mouth of our pretty little Fae.”

  “She has quite the talented tongue,” Quin added.

  Titus arched a brow. “I didn’t know that.”

  She reached for him. “Would you like to see?”

  “That’s a silly question.” He chuckled and eagerly threw off his clothes.

  She got up on her knees, letting him get his fill of her nude body. “Lie down.”

  Smiling as she knelt beside him, she kissed his thighs and swirled her tongue across his abdomen while he groaned in anticipation. Then she wrapped a hand around his shaft, gently pumping it while licking the bulging head like it was a stick of hard candy.

  He thrust his hips, digging his fingers into her hair. “Take it in your mouth,” he pleaded.

  She brushed his hand away. “In due time,” she said in a sing-song voice, loving the longing look in his eyes. She winked at Theron and Quin, who were up on their elbows, stroking their lengthening members and watching her.

  She took the tip in her mouth, loving his salty taste. Slurping her way down his shaft, she slowly in took more of him while he panted her name. She went down as far as she could go, remembering from her teachings to relax her throat. After spitting into her hand, she tenderly lifted his balls, stroking them with slippery fingers. He panted harder. Working her way back up his shaft, she ignored his hiss and slid back down. She picked up tempo, sucking him a little deeper each time until she was able to accommodate most of his length in a jarring rhythm that made her pussy ache to be filled.

  Just as he was about to explode, he pulled her off of him. “Ride me,” he begged, digging his fingers into her arms.

  Wiping his juices off her mouth, she climbed up his body, gasping when he thrust his swollen shaft into her dripping sex.

  Throwing back her head with a moan, she closed her eyes, resting her palms on his shoulders for support while he slammed into her, his cockhead banging that tight bundle of nerves until stars exploded behind her eyes and her entire world imploded in one cataclysmic shudder. He pumped harder and bathed her tight sheath in his seed.

  She fell on top of him, as limp as runny porridge, and he cradled her, peppering the top of her head with kisses. She giggled while he stroked her back, then sighed when Theron and Quin massaged her sore feet.

  She slid off Titus, laughing at Quin when he hovered over her with an expectant look. Heaving herself onto her knees, Theron stuck his cock in her mouth while Quin anchored himself to her pussy, probing her slippery channel until she had another orgasm so intense, she felt as if her heart would beat out of her chest. She barely had time to catch her breath before Quin came inside her, his cockhead throbbing while he let out a satisfied groan. Theron warned her he was about to release. She devoured his salty seed and then collapsed onto the furs with them.

  Lying in their arms, she tried to ignore her grumbling tummy, but she couldn’t stop thinking about that bread and honey.

  Quin sat up on his elbow, drawing a lazy circle on her hip. “You hungry?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Yes,” she answered right before her stomach grumbled louder.

  They sat cross-legged on the furs, sharing a delicious breakfast. Kyria used Theron as a backrest, leaning against him. He wrapped her in warm furs. She loved the attention her defenders gave her. She could definitely get used to living in Periculi so long as she had them to keep her warm.

  She’d have preferred ham and eggs and fresh fruit, but being with them meant more to her than any fancy breakfast. As soon as the king was dead, she would make amends to their nation’s heroes, making sure they had the pay and supplies they deserved.

  She sucked a long trail of honey off her finger, winking at Quin and Titus when they gave her appreciative looks. She laughed when Theron leaned over her and sucked her finger, too.

  Titus waggled his brows. “You sure know what you’re doing for a virgin.”

  Quin and Theron were surprised. “You were a virgin?” they said simultaneously.

  “I was until last night,” she said, somewhat uncomfortable by Quin’s heavy stare while Theron tightened his hold on her waist. She hoped they wouldn’t ask her about her husband. “Pleasuring a man was part of my temple training.”

  “Who did you practice on?” Quin asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  “Don’t sound so jealous.” She laughed and sipped cold tea before handing the mug to Theron. “We practiced on wooden dildos or each other.”

  Theron was aghast. “The priestesses made love to each other?”

  She’d been so preoccupied with her men, she hadn’t thought of Jade. She scooted out of Theron’s embrace until they were touching knee-to-knee. “Some of us.”

  Theron licked his lips. “Did you?”

  “Yes, I had a lover.” Heat flushed her cheeks. She knew he was imagining her making love to a woman. “She was also my best friend.”

  Quin gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Do you miss her?”

  “Terribly.” A heavy ache squeezed her chest when she thought of Jade crying as Kyria left her arms to marry a monster. Had Evander helped her to escape or had the king captured her? The thought of Jade in that monster’s clutches made her blood boil.

  Titus’s nostrils flared and she could read the thunderstorms brewing in his eyes. “Where is she now?”

  She fought back a wellspring of emotion. “Alive, I hope.”

  Titus let out a rumble, reminding her of the mountain quakes. “Why would she be dead?”

  She realized she’d said too much. “Never mind.” She wished they could talk less and love each other more.

  Titus crawled over to her and leaned back on his heels. She cast a surreptitious glance at his bare chest. He wore thin breeches that clung to his thick legs like a second skin. Great goddess, he was so finely sculpted, he looked too beautiful to be real.

  “Did your king threaten her?” he asked.

  She hated him for pressing her, for prodding her about her husband when she wanted to put him out of her mind.

  “Answer me, Kyria,” he commanded.

  She was ready to snap under the weight of the world. “Why do you think I’m
here, begging the defenders to swear an oath to the king?”

  Titus and his brothers exchanged dark looks. “Do you think his madness will stop if we bow to him?” Titus asked.

  “No, but it will pacify him until—”

  “Until what?” Titus snapped.

  “Until I slit his throat,” she cried, clenching her hands until nails broke skin.

  Titus jumped to his feet and put on his tunic. “You’re not going back to him.”

  “I must.” She struggled to rise on shaky legs. Why was he getting dressed? Was he going to her uncle? “He will kill my friends and family!”

  Slamming his boots on the ground, he shoved them on his feet. Quin and Theron got dressed, too. Panic made her heart beat hard. She scrambled for her clothes.

  “He will kill them anyway, and you, once he’s finished using you,” Titus said, raising the hood on his cloak.

  She slipped into her boots. “Not if I kill him first.”

  “That’s it!” Titus slammed a fist on the table. “I’ve heard enough of this horseshit.”

  “Where are you going?” she cried, her veins solidifying with fear.

  Her breath hitched while a look of understanding passed between Titus and his brothers.

  Titus’s silver-flecked eyes shone like raven moons. “To speak to your uncle and demand he make you stay.”

  Struggling to get her fur cape on, she thanked Quin when he helped. “And start a war between the defenders and all of Delfi?”

  All three brothers laughed.

  “We’re not afraid of King Milas,” Titus said and held out a hand. “We’re going to speak to the general.”

  Kyria wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Talking to Anton would cause more harm than good.

  “Titus, wait! Please,” she cried as he dragged her out the door, Quin and Theron following closely behind. “Don’t do this!”

  She felt as if she was marching to her funeral as her lovers dragged her to her uncle’s hut. She slipped on the ice, cursing her clumsy feet, thanking Quin when he held tightly to her arm. Why was she so unstable? She wasn’t used to this terrain, but she usually caught on fast. It was almost as if her Fae reflexes were no longer working.

  Thinking Titus would speak to her uncle without her, she swore when he marched several paces ahead of them.

  By the time they made it to the fortress, her face was numb. She hated Periculi’s weather. They marched past rows of empty tables to Anton, who was with a group of men at the hearth at the far end of the hall. They all turned toward them, giving them expectant looks. As if she wanted an audience to witness her shame.

  “Do you know what your niece just told me?” Titus demanded, stomping up to Anton without asking for permission to speak.

  Anton stood, bones cracking like logs on the fire, and focused on Kyria. “What?”

  Titus waved her forward impatiently. “Her king will kill her loved ones if we don’t bow to him.”

  She went to Titus, reluctantly taking his hand, thankful when Theron and Quin stood beside her.

  Her uncle dragged a hand through his bushy beard. “I expect nothing less from King Milas.”

  “Well,” Titus demanded, “what are you going to do about it?”

  “What can I do about it?” He threw up his hands. “We will not give in to him.”

  Titus’s expression hardened to iron. “You can’t send her back to that madman.”

  “I have no choice.” Uncle Anton gave each of her lovers a stern look. “If she doesn’t return, he will use that as an excuse to start a war.”

  “Good.” Titus puffed up his chest. “I will kill that bastard myself.”

  “King Milas does not fight his own battles,” Anton warned. “He will send innocent slaves and soldiers to do his dirty work, and our army is not prepared to fight them.”

  “Our army is far stronger than theirs,” Theron interjected.

  Her uncle snickered. “Did you forget dragon mating season approaches? We will lose if we’re forced to fight battles on two fronts.”

  “You would turn your back on your niece?” Quin asked.

  Anton gave him a cool look. “I didn’t say I’d turn my back on her.”

  Titus jutted a foot toward him. “Then what will you do to keep her safe?”

  “The only thing I know to do. I will swear an oath....” He paused, giving her a long dark look, his face a mask of stone other than a barely perceptible twitch above his upper lip. “To her.”

  Her knees nearly buckled. If the Dragon Defenders bowed to her, the mad king would kill her and all of her loved ones for sure.

  KING MILAS ANGRILY paced Demendia’s chamber while the slave girl fought against her restraints. Demendia had strapped her to a wooden bench outside her cell. The other slaves watched them fearfully from behind the bars like frightened mice.

  “Open, child. I will not harm you,” Demendia lied, holding a vial over the girl’s mouth.

  The girl, tear streaks staining her dirty cheeks, refused to part her lips.

  “Hurry up,” he snapped.

  Demendia pinched the girl’s nose shut. She kicked and thrashed bony arms and legs until she ran out of breath, then sputtered when Demendia poured several drops down her throat.

  Breath suspended, King Milas waited. And waited. The girl remained unchanged.

  Roaring, he shook his fists at the darkened ceiling, then turned to the mage, chest heaving with fury. He held out a hand, impatiently waggling his fingers. “I need my vial of life water back.”

  Her natural pallor shifted from a deep crimson to ashen gray. “I used it all on the dragons.”

  Jaw hardening, he spoke through clenched teeth. “Did it work?”

  She averted her gaze. “I won’t know for a few more days.”

  “Curse you, woman!” he yelled, knocking things off her table. Glass shattered on the slate floor, splattering liquid everywhere.

  “You idiot!” she scolded. “I’ve been working for months on those experiments.”

  He let out a menacing chuckle. “How many decades have you wasted on failed experiments? You’re a second-rate witch whose only success can be attributed to luck.”

  Spluttering wordlessly, she raced toward him, hands poised to strike. He ducked under her, but his creaking bones slowed him down, and he was hit on the ear with her venomous vapor. “You bitch!” he spat.

  Black ink seeped out of her eyes. “Call me second-rate again and I’ll burn off your old, limp dick.”

  He pulled his sword from the scabbard and aimed it at her chest. “I’ll kill you before that happens.”

  The caged slaves screamed, and Demendia’s bound experiment went eerily still. Good. They should be terrified of their king.

  A low, deep rumble shook the ground and rattled his bones. When he looked past Demendia and saw a pair of yellow eyes staring at him, he sheathed his sword and stepped back. Fear gripped him, and he lost control of his bladder. He grimaced when warmth flooded his crotch. The beast had climbed up from the pit, aided by wings that appeared to be thicker than before. The life water was working!

  “Send your lizard back to its hole,” he hissed.

  She went to her dragon and cooed in its ear while petting the scaly snout. After a moment he slithered back into the pit, shaking the cavern floor with a heavy boom.

  Deciding it was best if he focused his anger elsewhere, he smoothed the front of his tunic, hoping Demendia wouldn’t notice the puddle of urine at his feet. “You leave me no choice but to send Ergor after the queen.”

  Her gaze traveled down his body, stopping at his feet. “I thought that was the plan.”

  Furious and humiliated, he envisioned wrapping his hands around his queen’s throat. “It was, but the mission has changed. He must bring me that vial.” He stormed off, ignoring Demendia’s shrill laughter as his urine-soaked boots squeaked.

  His loyal guard waited for him outside Demendia’s chamber. “Evander, I want you to behead the slave gi
rl, Lea.” Though he couldn’t very well send her head to the soon to be dead queen, he would take great satisfaction in killing the urchin.

  Evander bowed low. “Forgive me, My King, but we had to execute and burn the girl and the slaves in the cells adjoining hers last night when one of them showed signs of the pox.”

  “Why wasn’t I made aware of this?” Milas retorted, enraged that he didn’t get to savor the moment of the child’s death.

  “My King,” Evander said. “It was in your daily missive.”

  “Oh yes....” He hadn’t read it. Thoughts of Sylvia had distracted him. “Send soldiers to the Temple of Kyan. Tell them to bring me her lover. Her name is Jade.”

  “Yes, My King.” Evander bowed again.

  King Milas loved that his guard never showed emotion. He was as devoid of soul as Milas was, and he was mindless, too, serving his every whim. Good thing, too, because his next whim would include torturing and killing his queen’s dearest friend. He would not end her right away, though. He’d draw out her torment before feeding her to the dragons.

  Chapter Eighteen

  KYRIA, CAN YOU HEAR me?

  Alexi? Is it you? Rolling onto her side, she opened her eyes and blinked at the firelight. She heard movement behind her, which meant her defenders were awake. Had they called to her?

  I am here, sister. Alexi’s voice was in her head again.

  Where? How? This had to be a waking dream. There was no other explanation.

  Never mind that. Are you safe?

  She didn’t know how to answer him. None of us are safe as long as that monster reigns.

  I can keep you safe, sister.

  Her heart caught in her throat. There was no way for him to do that unless he returned from the dead, but necromancy was a dark, forbidden magic. How? When she was met with silence, she screamed his name. “Alexi!”

  “Kyria, wake up.”

  Brow furrowed, Quin stared at her, concerned. The wind howled like a pack of wild wolves, and she shuddered when an icy chill swept through her. No light shone outside the small window, which meant it was early in the morning. They’d been inside their cramped hut for the past three days because of a heavy winter storm. Perhaps the isolation was finally driving her mad.