by L. A. Boruff
“Did you set this up?” I demanded. Had he arranged it so Tom would owe me? I only got another smile as a response. The silence that settled over the table didn’t exactly feel comfortable. “What happens if I don’t get through? I mean, to my gold.”
“The Queen gets to assign it,” Tom answered. His fingers traced absent patterns over my shoulder.
“She’d love that,” Cillian agreed.
His grim tone swept a chill along my skin. I picked up the goblet for another drink.
5
I didn’t have a way to keep track of time, but it felt like forever before a low feminine voice rolled over the room with, “Where is Jack’s daughter?”
Domhnall seemed to materialize at the table, his expression tight and his eyes on me. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly.
I glanced between Cillian and Tom before pushing myself to my feet. “Right.” Sudden nerves churned my stomach, but it wasn’t the all-encompassing panic from earlier.
“You’ve got it handled, love,” Cillian told me. “Just think like a leprechaun.” The wink following the statement didn’t help. What the hell did thinking like a leprechaun even mean?
Something suspiciously like sympathy flashed through Domhnall’s eyes. He didn’t say anything else, just gestured into the room. The throng of people had separated enough to leave a straight line across the glimmering floor to where a woman sat on an ornate throne. The Queen, obviously, and even from that distance I could see the irritation on her face.
We walked quickly through the crowd. I did my best to ignore the murmurs that followed, the intensity of all those eyes pressing in against my back. “Any advice?” I asked my stoic guard, not that I expected him to give me any.
“Keep your head up,” Domhnall replied in an undertone that I had to strain to hear, his lips barely moving. “Don’t let her see you flinch.” It was more than I’d thought he’d give me, but still not really any help.
The throne was carved from what looked like one piece of wood, a lacy design that rose up tall above the Queen’s head and fell around her sides like a curtain. It was a dark, glossy color, and I couldn’t help but stare. Focusing on it kept my gaze away from the Queen.
The Queen herself was a handsome woman, her features lean and pointed almost like Cillian’s – not that they looked alike. Hers seemed even more severe, however, probably because of the deep scowl on her face. “So this is Jack’s daughter,” she said as we neared. Her tone conveyed that I was no better than shit on the bottom of one of her golden slippers. “You certainly don’t look like much, do you?” Interestingly, she had a generic American accent.
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything. Domhnall dropped into a deep bow when we came to a stop at the foot of the dais on which her throne sat, and after a second I inclined my head. She wasn’t really my queen, but she was a queen and she was obviously in charge here, so I should probably show her some respect.
“Why are you here?” she asked. One elbow rested on the arm of her throne, and she propped her chin on her fingers like she was bored.
“You asked me here,” I replied, heat blooming up into my face. I had to fight not to fidget, to step from foot to foot. She just had that aura, like she was the principal and I was some misbehaving student. “Apparently I need to pass some sort of test to get my dad’s pot of gold.”
“The trials. You request the trials?” One immaculate eyebrow arched as she focused on me, much like a bug under a microscope. “Take your place in Court and reclaim your family’s honor?”
I wanted to look a question at Domhnall, but I didn’t dare. “No one said anything about courts or honor. I’ve got responsibility for my dad’s pot of gold, though – my pot of gold now, since it passes down through the family line.”
That restlessness that Cillian had mentioned was both better and worse. It was soothing to be closer, but I had a stronger urge to go get it. “It’s my responsibility even though I don’t have it. I can feel it, even now. I’m just here to get it and take it home.”
“You would refuse me?” Ice dripped from her voice as she leaned forward, a dark sort of anticipation turning up her expression.
Don’t flinch, don’t flinch. Domhnall’s words ran through my mind, and I lifted my chin. “I haven’t been made an offer to refuse. I was summoned to take your test to get my family’s gold back, and that’s what I’m here for.”
“And what of his place in my Court? His honor?” The way she kept pressing at those things made me a little suspicious.
“I don’t know anything about any of that. I’m just here to take whatever test you’ve got set up.” It occurred to me that this could be part of it, but that seemed a little too easy. I had shitty customers try to talk me around in circles every other day. This was no different. The customer service policies were clear – don’t talk about things that aren’t in your lane, and don’t let customers trap you into specific promises you have no business making.
Gold-painted nails tapped audibly against lacquered wood. The murmurs had died away behind me, and it was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop. “Then you don’t want his position at Court?”
“I don’t know anything about any position at Court. I’m just here to get my pot of gold back.” It occurred to me then that I had no idea what I was going to do with said pot of gold once I had it, but Domhnall had told me I had people. Maybe they’d be able to tell me.
She seemed to realize that I was willing to go around with her on this as much as she wanted. Her fingers flicked off to my right. “Lyan, get the girl a shillelagh.”
My eyes widened, but I didn’t voice my curiosity. In short order, a bearded man with red hair came out of the crowd. He held out what looked like a walking stick, sturdy with a big, knobby end. “It was your uncle’s,” he murmured as he handed it to me before fading back into the crowd.
A whole new set of questions flooded into my head, but I doubted the Queen would let me take the time to ask. The wood felt smooth, worn down by the grip of many hands. But it felt warm, almost thrumming with life. It was surprisingly comfortable for me to set the tip on the floor in front of me, my hand on the top.
I lifted my chin and waited for her to continue, almost a challenge. That was probably stupid. Challenging the Queen was probably really fucking dumb.
“You now have all the tools of your people,” the Queen told me somewhat viciously. “There will be three trials, and you must pass all three or die trying.”
“Right.” I knew that much.
“Let the first trial begin.” Her smile was all teeth, and not particularly friendly.
I didn’t even get a chance to respond before a deep, bone-chilling growl filled my ears. The room descended into chaos, shouts and screams as people scrambled away from me. Only Domhnall didn’t move, but I suspected he wasn’t there for my benefit so much as he was to make sure I actually did the thing.
The growl repeated, sounding closer. I didn’t want to turn around, almost frozen as adrenaline coursed through me. Some great beast was stalking me, coming closer, and I doubted it wanted to sit down and split a cup of that blackberry wine.
Gripping the shillelagh so tightly my knuckles stood out white against my skin, I turned to face it. “Oh shit,” I breathed, staring up. I hadn’t really noticed the ceiling before, but the room was apparently tall enough for an actual giant to be making his way toward me.
Tom was big, but this guy… He carried what looked like a tree trunk the same way I gripped my stick. Except he probably knew how to use it.
“A pretty meal,” floated out like the grinding of large, rusty gears. All the hair stood up on the back of my neck. This was it. Some giant was going to squish me flat and eat me like a pancake. I only hoped I was dead before we got to the eating.
No. I took a deep, shaky breath. I could get out of this. I eyed the shillelagh, but that wasn’t going to help. I had no wand to jam up his nose, no slingshot. I had nothing. I desperately
scanned the room, coming to rest on where Cillian stood at the edge of the crowd, watching me. He was only maybe ten feet away, and he didn’t look worried. In fact, as I watched, he lifted his hand in front of his face to mime giving a blowjob.
I looked at the giant questioningly. There was no way I was blowing that. I wouldn’t object if it was going to save my life, but his cock was probably about the same size around as my thigh, and I wouldn’t be able to do much.
Another look at Cillian showed a wink. That didn’t help, although I did catch sight of Tom standing a few people away. Tom looked worried, his eyes locked on the giant.
Tom. “Tom!” I yelled. He was a warrior type and he owed me a favor. This would definitely count as a favor. I didn’t even know if it would work, but I had to try.
He bounded out in front of me, moving so fast he was little more than a blur. He came to a stop between me and the giant, facing it like it was nothing. He held a giant metal spear-thing. I had no idea where he’d gotten that, but it looked more up to the task than my stick.
“I will discharge my boon,” Tom announced to the room at large, starting fresh murmurs that were soon lost under another roar from the giant.
Tom was a big dude, but he wasn’t giant-sized. He didn’t seem concerned, however, even when the giant got close enough to see the creases around his eyes. He just stood there, spear up in front of him like he meant business.
I shrank back as the giant lifted his tree trunk. He brought it down toward Tom, and a helpless whimper slipped from my throat. I clapped both hands over my mouth, the shillelagh clattering to the floor, mostly forgotten. This wasn’t going to end well, but I couldn’t look away.
Except Tom caught it. He caught the tree trunk with one palm like it was my walking stick, not even buckling under the weight. He let it slide harmlessly to the quartz beside him and whirled in to stick the spear into the giant’s wrist. A change rippled through him. He almost seemed to get bigger, and I could see the tension drawn up in his muscles.
“I yield!” the giant boomed. He snatched his hand back, pressing his fingers over the wound. “I came for an easy snack, not to fight a redcap.” With an accusatory look at the Queen, he turned and stumbled out, leaving a trail of blood along the floor as his dripping wound marked his exit.
“Trickster!” the Queen yelled, her voice shaking with fury. “You dare interfere in the trials?”
“Interfere in what?” came Cillian’s smooth, amused answer. “I’ve been standing here the whole time. Your guards have their eyes on me, watching my every breath. What, pray tell, did I do?”
I couldn’t concentrate on what she said in return because Tom turned his focus to me like we were the only people in the room. I could see it in his eyes, the wildness, the lust for battle. He’d gotten all amped up to fight a giant, and the whole thing had been called off after just a second.
He threw down the spear and stalked toward me, and I let out another tiny whimper. I’d just survived a giant – was Tom now going to kill me?
He grabbed my arm as he passed, yanking me backwards. When I stumbled, he just picked me up and held me against the front of his body with one arm. I assumed people made way for us, but all I could see was the intensity burning in his dark eyes as they held mine. No one was stopping him. The next thing I felt was the wall against my back as he pressed me into it.
My feet weren’t touching the floor, but Tom and I were at eye-level. His knee between my thighs and a hand on my hip held me steady as his gaze burned into mine. “What’s going on?” I asked him, my voice a touch more breathless than normal.
He answered, but I wasn’t sure if it was just a growl or words that my brain refused to pick through. And then his lips were on mine, bruising, intense. His free hand fumbled at my clothes until it was under my shirt to cup my breast through my bra. At least I’d worn a sports bra, so there was less chance of him tearing this one.
I twisted my head to the side. Anticipation was already starting to rise inside me, meeting his urgency with an answering heat. But we were in the middle of a crowded room, and I was pretty sure the Queen was waiting on me. “Shouldn’t we wait?” I asked, gripping at his shoulder.
He growled another response against my skin as his mouth closed over the side of my neck. He seemed to hone in on the sensitive hollow just under my ear, sending heat sparking through me. Long fingers slipped down into the waistband of my pants, bypassing my panties until he pressed in against my clit.
I still wasn’t so sure this was the time or place, but my body had its own opinions on the subject. I had a lot of adrenaline to vent, and as Tom rolled over my clit, the tension pushed over into need. I couldn’t see past him, so no one could see me. It would be fine.
I tried to angle my hips a little better, but I had nowhere to go, no leverage to push against. I grabbed at his arms, my fingernails raking across his skin.
He set me on the floor and spun me to face the wall before I really had a chance to react. He yanked down my pants sharply enough that it stung as the fabric caught over my hips, but he was immediately right there, his hand slipping down in front of me to circle over my clit.
My ears filled with his harsh breaths, and it was really like we were in our own little world. He pushed pleasure into me until I moved against him. My pants were tight around my thighs, trapping them in place, but I spread my legs as much as I could.
This wasn’t going to work. I didn’t know if I just thought the words or spoke them, but Tom’s answering, “It fucking will,” settled that. He grabbed my hips, pulling them up as much as they could go. One hand moved between us, and I felt the head of his cock nudge against the opening to my pussy.
He drove into me with one sharp snap of his hips, pulling a cry from my throat. There hadn’t been a lot of foreplay, and that and the angle made him feel impossibly big as he pulled back and thrust into me again.
His fingers slipped along my center until he found my clit. He circled almost frantically as he fucked me so hard it jolted my entire body, his voice rising behind me in loud epithets.
It was too much to process, sensations building up at a dizzying rate. I wasn’t even sure it was pleasure so much as it was pure sensation, an endless whirl of intensity that caught my breath and pulled low, needy noises from me.
My fingers scraped at the wall, but there was nothing to grip at, no anchor other than Tom’s hand heavy on my hip. I grabbed for him, my nails biting into his wrist as the world narrowed down to the endless sensations he was drawing from me.
“That’s it,” he growled. “More, Eva.”
“I can’t,” I protested on a breath even as everything seemed to fall still. I came hard, heat spreading out through my limbs as I clenched around him.
He drove deep once, then again, and his own release seemed to pulse in time with the contractions of my cunt. He slipped free even as I was still coming down, pulling my clothes back into place a lot more gently than he’d removed them.
I turned to face him. The rest of the room was shut out beyond his broad shoulders, and I was a little grateful for that now that the moment was passing. “Are you okay?”
“I am now. Blood makes me frenzy, and he ran off before I could finish it.” He picked up my hand and brought it up to press a warm kiss against the back of it. “I’d like to see you again.”
I couldn’t help but smile. I felt a bit sore, and I was sure I’d ache later, but yeah. That had been something. “I’d like that, too.” I glanced over his shoulder, not that I could see anything. “I think they’re waiting on me.”
“Fuck ‘em.” But he leaned in for a quick kiss before moving aside so I could go back to stand in front of the Queen.
No one was looking at us, but it was hard not to be self-conscious about what had just happened. Heat flooded up into my face, and I did my level best to ignore it.
Domhnall held out my shillelagh. I took it from him without meeting his eyes. “Appreciate it.”
“Mm-hmm,” c
ame the slightly knowing reply.
6
The Queen tapped her fingers against the arm of the throne, a display of exaggerated patience. “Good of you to join us again,” she told me, looking right down her nose.
I couldn’t stop the heat spreading up into my face, but I didn’t look away. “Sorry, I got a little caught up.”
She gave a derisive sniff. “You’ve passed the first trial.” I’d been wondering about that, since technically Tom had dealt with the giant, not me. Although maybe delegating to someone who owed me a boon made it me? Whatever. I wasn’t going to question it. “You won’t find the second trial so easily navigated.”
I didn’t think she’d answer if I asked what it was, but she left a long enough pause that I started to feel like I had to say something. When I was just about ready to open my mouth to ask what she meant, she extended one hand and pointed over my shoulder.
I turned to see what she was pointing at. A door had appeared in the middle of the floor; a closed door in a door frame. There was nothing on either side of it, just pale wood with a crystal knob.
Domhnall fell in beside me when I started toward it. Like with the giant, I assumed he was there to make sure I went through with it, rather than trying to help me.
The knob was cool and smooth under my fingers as I turned it. The door opened into what looked like some kind of garden, and I had to fight the urge to peer around behind it and look from the back. Instead, I stepped forward onto lush, green grass.
It smelled amazing, faintly sweet and woodsy. As soon as the door swung shut behind me, it vanished. Alarmed, my eyes flew to Domhnall.
“Getting past this trial will win you access to the next,” he told me in a low voice. His hand kept straying close to his sword, which made me a little nervous.
“That’s great.” I dropped my eyes to his hand. “You’re fidgeting.”