by A. K. Koonce
We’re almost there. On the second floor, a line of shining knights still stands as a display outside my father’s military office. It’s just as I recall. And just as I had hoped, I’m able to swipe a dagger off a knight’s belt and keep on walking, my dress sweeping across the fine red rug as if I’m dancing instead of plotting murder.
Everything is running smoothly. In less than fifteen seconds, I’ll be down the hall and at my brother’s door.
From out of the shadows, two fae step in front of me.
Glittering colors of gold and silver glint the air around the two fae, and even though I can’t see the quick moving creatures, I know they’re pixies. Pixies are the greatest spies of all.
And no one loves pixies more than the Shadow Guard.
The girl has long purple hair that’s pulled back to show her sharp pointed ears. She doesn’t smile as she stares hard at me. The man at her side, his smile is slashing and knowing, and I’ve spent too many years in the Shadow Guard with them to act like they didn’t just see what I did.
“Aries,” the man whispers with a slight bow of his head.
The two spies pass one another a look before stepping around either side of me and continuing on to seep into the shadows of the hall.
My racing heart calms. We’re on the same side. They know exactly who I am and why I’m here. As members of the Shadow Guard, we’re working toward the same goal: to make our realm safe for all. Especially demons.
And killing the Prince gets us one step closer to achieving that goal. But I can’t associate with them until I’ve finished what I started all that time ago.
I can’t risk them getting thrown out of the kingdom like I was.
“Who the fuck was that?” Ryke snaps.
I shake my head and lead him farther down the corridor.
“No one to worry about,” I whisper.
Less than ten steps and I’ll be there. In the next two minutes, I’ll have done what I should have done three years ago when my brother first caught me trying to steal the demon land’s token from the castle’s necropolis.
Catherine’s tomb was enormous and elaborate for such a small pile of ashes. And back then, I knew if I didn’t take them, my brother would. He’d send her back to the demon land and the demons my father loves to torment so much, they’d never be allowed to step foot in our realm ever again.
And I refused be a Princess of a land where fae see themselves as gods. So far above demons and humans that only more darkness can taint our hearts.
With time, we’ll only become worse and worse.
Unless the Shadow Guard succeeds in their endeavors.
Another five feet and it’ll be done.
Three feet.
Two.
A hunched figure steps out from around the corner. My stomach drops. With a sway of my body, I hide my face behind my long red hair that’s curled at the ends.
But the goblin’s black eyes still eat up my features.
“Princess Aries, how very nice to see you again,” he whispers suspiciously as he passes.
My breath catches, but Nille never stops his fast little wobbling pace down the dark corridor to my mother’s bedroom, like a good little spy.
“He fucking knew it was you, too,” Ryke says.
“Goblins can’t see glamours no matter how powerful the fae may be. They’re protected against deceit magic.”
“That little guy someone important?” Ryke asks in the same low tone.
I steady my hands and walk the final steps with the demon stumbling after me. I’m almost there. I can’t stop now.
At the end of the hall, my hand grips the shining handle of his door. Without a sound, I slink into the bedroom. My feet are soundless against the sleek wooden floors. He lies on smooth white bedding within a shining and an ornately designed wooden bed frame.
I gaze upon my dear sweet brother sleeping soundly in his kingly bed.
Nathiale.
He’s the heir to this hateful density. He’s the only one who hasn’t been shunned away.
And he’s the worst of all three of us.
From the open balcony doors, warm early morning sunlight kisses his pale skin. As I watch him, one after the other my fingers close firmly over the hilt of the blade with careful intent. I release the door as well as the leash, and I put my entire focus on the flawless skin of his delicate neck. The sharp line of his jaw carves up into high cheekbones that are so similar to my own. The deep red hair hanging over his forehead is my mother’s.
Too bad he only inherited my father’s personality.
My hand lifts with intent, and the blade feels weightless. It feels like an extension of myself. It feels so damn right.
With my heart drilling and my mind racing, I slash the knife through the air.
But a big hand catches my wrist.
His chest presses to my back, and his grip on me is so tight that it’s the only thing I feel in this consuming moment.
“Are you fucking out of your pretty little fae mind?” he whispers in the harshest growl.
My lips purse as my eyes narrow on him into thin slits.
How dare he!
My palm presses to his scarred chest, and I shove hard. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink at the force I put into that effort. I jerk against him in silent frustration, knife still in hand, both of us looming over my brother’s slumbering body.
The rage inside me hits an all-time high after a few seconds. My palm flings up fast and collides with his nose so hard, he groans and stumbles back from me, pulling me right along with him. We’re several feet away now. Too far away from my dearest brother for me to make my move.
I have to do it. Now!
My foot plants at the center of Ryke’s chest, and I kick off from him. He stumbles with me in tow, nearly falling into the smooth balcony railing, but at the last moment, smoke whisks around, giving me a dissipating sensation—like my cells are scattering inside my body crawls across my skin.
And then the demon and I are back in the rose garden where he lands with a solid thud against the cobble stone and drags me down right along with him. He’s still gripping my wrist as the calming scent of flowers surrounds us.
His hold on me is rough. Our bodies burn everywhere we touch, from hip to chest to hands. Blood as dark as ink smears his face along his lips and beard. I lie in a fuming heap against his hard chest, and his olive-green eyes blaze with accusations. We glare fiery hatred into each other for several seconds until a fine plum dress sweeps across my arm.
“Nille told me there was a trouble-making princess sneaking around the castle. I must confess, I didn’t expect to find you rolling around the garden with a demon already, Ari.” The smooth melody of her voice stops my heart, emotion crashing over me so fast I’m not prepared for it.
I flop off of Ryke’s chest and land on my ass at my mother’s feet. Her shining emerald eyes reflect my image, and I feel like a child again, sitting in the dirt staring up at her. Ever so slowly, I drop the glamour that is her image. It shakes off of me like dust, and soon my long silver hair hangs around my face once again.
Her smile is soft, and her skin is as smooth and flawless as ever.
“You shouldn’t be here, Ari.” She lowers herself down, and I’m all too aware of how she fans her crimson wings out, shadowing me and concealing me from any watchful eyes in the windows of the castle. Like my brother. “You need to leave. Don’t be reckless. Do not be like my sister, Sweet Ari,” she whispers as her slender hands tremble and caress my face with the lightest touch.
My mother’s sister. I’ve heard about the mysterious woman more times than I can count. We don’t speak her name though. She was a light fae and light fae are beneath dark fae in my father’s mind. Everyone is really…
She was really just a woman who ran off to the Bin because she loved a demon.
In my father’s eyes, that woman is a disgrace to fae. She chose a demon, of all things, over her own kind.
Even
as a little girl, my brash decisions were always compared to hers.
Some things never change.
“Mom,” I have barely breathed her name out when she shakes her head at me.
“Leave. Before he sees you. Leave and stay in the Bin, please. Stay safe. All I want is for you to stay safe, Ari.”
Her hands grip mine tightly, and there’s so much tension in my throat that I can’t get a single word out among the pressing feelings.
Her big emerald eyes sweep to the demon sitting at my side.
“Get her out of here,” she says in a rush.
She releases me, and I stumble against the bricks to reach for her fleeting figure. But a stinging warm hand wraps around my hips.
And then smoke erupts around us once more.
7
Cruel Curses
My shuddering breath hurts my lungs, and when my damp eyes open, I’m in the training room of my sister’s house. Ryke still holds me, my back flush against his chest. His head lowers against my hair as I fight for a single gasp of air.
I was shoved away from my family once more.
More importantly, Ryke took me away.
My elbow thrusts back into his chest, and he falls back from me with a satisfying thud.
The asshole.
The swiftness of my moves surprises even me as I stand and whirl to him in the span of a single heartbeat. Irrationally, I grab the wooden sword from the rack and smack it against his chin until his glaring green gaze is pinned on me.
“Do not ever smoke me again. It’s unnatural and disorienting for fae. If I want to leave, I fucking will.” I almost turn away from him when he grabs the end of the blunt sword and pulls me down with quick force. His fingers thread through my hair, and he pulls me even closer, his warm breath fanning my cheek as his fingers sting into my scalp.
“Stop treating me like a dog. I know I’m a demon. I know you fucking hate me, but smack me around again and I won’t be this nice with my warnings in the future, Crow.” He holds me there with my head tilted back so harshly that my lips nearly skim his. It’s like he wants me to choke on his words while he devours my shaking breaths.
The heat of his body burns into mine, but the fucking tears streaming down my face have nothing to do with physical pain. I hate that he’s watching me like this. I hate how exposed I feel, and I can’t turn my head away from him no matter how hard I try.
I breathe through it, fanning my breath against his lips until his hold on me loosens just slightly. The aggression shining in his pretty eyes softens, and he sees me for how fucked my emotions really are right now.
When my emotions are scattered, so is Catherine. I feel her shaking to life inside me, and I hate the uncontrollable way she makes me feel. Like she owns my body more than I do.
I need to get out of here. I need to calm down. I need to think of something else. Anything else.
“Ari,” Ryke whispers, his fingers sliding slowly from my hair to cradle my neck, my jaw, my lips.
I’m sitting on his lap with every hard part of him pressed against every needy part of me. His touch burns across my lower lip, and he watches intently as my breath catches.
My teeth lash out before I can think better of it. I clamp down on his index finger at the same time as my fist jars forward into his ribs.
The grunt he smothers is a rumbling tone of surprise.
I’m striding away from him before he can even curse my name.
“Let’s just stay out of each other’s way, and we’ll both be happy, demon.” I slam the door shut behind me, and then I’m rushing down the hall to find a quiet room. Any room.
Exposed wood surrounds me on all sides. The carved hall seems like it’s a tunnel out of the middle of the largest tree known to man. Those wooden walls press in on me.
My chest hurts, but it’s not from my tears anymore. It’s from her. She is pain and she is wrath.
I push open the first door I come to. And it’s the wrong random room.
It’s so damn wrong, it’s right.
Wet golden hair hangs into confused dark eyes. Damien stands at the side of a white porcelain bathtub in nothing but a towel clinging to his slick narrow hips. Hard lines etch a path down his chest and I can’t even focus on how perfect his body is right now.
“No, no, no, no,” I whisper on a trembling plea.
Only with Catherine the Cunt would I reject the sexy sight of wet abs.
“You can have the bathroom. I’m done. It’s not a big deal,” he says, his eyebrows lowering with more and more confusion as I shake my head back and forth so fast that my hair whips across my lips.
A scream tears out of me with lashing strength, and I see Catherine’s face shudder out of my own with wisps of white smoke, shrieking spasms, and ghostly rage.
“Oh, shit. Not again,” Damien whispers, stepping back from me with a worried expression.
“I just . . . I need to relax. I need a distraction. I need—I need fucking something.” With trembling hands, I shove down my borrowed black jeans that I stole from Corva and kick them aside. My underwear is discarded as well. I don’t even give Damien’s confusion a second glance as I tear my shirt from over my wings and stumble into the lukewarm bath water that’s draining slowly.
With one weak breath, I hold the pressing feeling in my lungs and dip my head under the water.
Calm. Calm. Calm.
This is calming. This . . . it’s nice. This is . . . not fucking working.
Her flickering face surfaces seconds before my own, and I can’t catch my breath. It’s like I’m choking on her spirit. I can’t feel my own palm as I sink my nails in so hard that blood slides through my fingers.
“I’m in charge. This is my body. Mine!”
My wet lashes fly open and Damien’s hands are half-lifted. He looks like he wants to help but has no fucking idea how to.
He can actually. And what I need from him is so damn simple.
I slide just slightly when I kneel in the bathtub, and when I’m close enough, I push my wet fingers through his hair and pull his face down to mine. As his lips part to ask another unimportant question, I slam my mouth to his.
Every hard muscle in his body tenses, but it only takes half a second for him to respond to the warmth of my kiss. He melds his lips to mine over and over again like he’s hesitant but just as wanting as I am.
A tiny breath hits my lungs.
Finally.
“This is you, right?” he asks between languid kisses. “This isn’t,” kiss, “that freaky thing,” kiss, “inside you, right?”
A smile breaks through the anguish across my face, and I can’t help but taunt him. “If it were that freaky thing, would you stop kissing me right now?”
My tongue flicks against his, and his big hands slide down my bare hips.
“I—fuck. No, I probably wouldn’t,” he whispers before parting my lips and fucking my tongue in such a sensual caress I almost forget about the thing inside me, too.
Almost.
She claws up my chest, and I feel her grow with power. She’ll make another appearance if I’m not careful.
“Touch me. Please,” I gasp as I pull harder against his hair.
His touch is a blazing path along my cold skin as his slick fingers glide over my curves, my ribs, my breasts. The slickness of his big palms sliding over my breasts is enough to tremble weakness right down to my core.
A quiet sound of pent-up lust whimpers from my lips. He devours the sound with a dominate kiss, bending my back as he fights for control over his own spiraling desires.
I pull at his hair. He takes an unsteady step and stumbles into the half an inch of water lining the nearly empty tub.
He bends when I lower. His hard body settles over mine.
The restless spirit inside me is wrecking chaos on my heart, but Damien is doing more than that to my sex drive.
I’ve almost won.
My thighs part, and the heat of his body melds to mine so fucking perfectly I
can only ask for more. And more. And more. He’s close. But not close enough. My hips thrust against the towel still separating his perfect body from mine.
But then . . . he pulls back just slightly, allowing too much cool air between his chest and mine. The scrunch of my brow is nothing compared to how easily that moment allows Catherine to rear her head inside my own.
My eyes clench shut hard to keep her contained.
“Fuck me.” I barely whisper the words before my fingers are pushing at the wet towel clinging messily to his hips.
And then he shoves back from me entirely.
“Fuck!” His hands thrust through his messy hair, and he looks like it’s impossible for him to catch his breath right now.
I follow him up as he kneels over me. I’m confused, but the turmoil of emotions colliding through my chest barely lets that baffled notion register.
“What—what’s wrong?” I force out while fighting my pounding heart as well as Catherine’s slamming need to be seen.
You know what’s not attractive? Letting your poltergeist out during sex.
It’s a real mood killer.
Just calm down. You’re in control. You’re going to fuck Damien. Not the centuries-old ghost living inside you . . .
I hope.
Maybe let’s not tell him that…
“I can’t.” He moves to stand, but when I pull on his arm, he slides back down next to me, both of us waiting in a puddle of cold water for him to explain why he isn’t fucking me so hard that he literally exorcises me right now.
“I’m sorry, what?” My eyes scrunch closed, and I breathe through the pain that’s quivering through every inch of my veins.
“I—I can’t . . . fuck you. I . . . in exchange for Corva’s runes, she cursed me so I had to give up ssseehhh.” He whispers those words out. Every one of them gets quieter and quieter until I can’t hear the last word he mumbled.
“What?”
“Sex! I gave up sex in exchange for not becoming a demon.”
My mouth falls open so hard, I think he just scared the ghost right out of me.