by A. K. Koonce
Krave isn’t dangerous because he’s powerful.
He’s dangerous because he loves someone who may never love him back.
And history itself will tell you that a loveless man will make nothing but a destructive future for himself as well as everyone around him.
“That’s really none of your business,” I say with nothing but chivalry. Never kiss and tell and all that. But . . . I’m more of a chivalrous bastard really. “I’ll just say it doesn’t take an incubus to make Aries cum.” I pass him that same obnoxious wink he gave me, and Zaviar’s chuckle is the last thing I hear.
Black glittering wings lash out from the incubus’s back, and he swoops through the air like a shadow in the night. His boots settle on my chest, and instead of kicking me backward, his long, glittering fingers wrap around my throat. He perches there, looming over me with a crazed glint in his big black eyes. The inky depths of them seem to bleed across his skin, leaving lines like spiderwebs cracking across his pale features.
My mind demands that I fight him off. My fingers fist at my sides. But all I feel is euphoric pleasure where his fingers claw into my throat.
His mouth parts. Mine does the same. He leans in. I do, too.
And then hypnotic silvery light drinks in the space between us. Black glitter dances between our lips. It pulls from deep inside me like my heart’s breaking off a piece to gift to the man strangling me. He swallows the peculiar gleaming hue between our mouths with a groan.
He feels . . . really fucking good.
A chaos of shouts clatter around us. My body shoves this way and that from hands that grip and pull at the incubus above me, but I can’t make sense of it.
Nor do I want to.
My palms come up and caress the sharp angles of his face, his smile carving even harder into his attractive features.
He is attractive.
Aries should give him a chance. He’s a fine fellow.
“Krave, no!” Thin fingers wrap over his strained bicep, and he’s torn off of me like a leech ripped from bruised and bloody skin. “You know better!” Aries scolds him like a puppy who just chewed up her favorite panties.
Krave doesn’t seem to have the good sense of a puppy to appear ashamed. He’s on his back, and she’s straddled over him, and he looks like he’s on a high he’ll never come down from right now.
I note that he keeps his hands at his sides, though. He doesn’t so much as run a shimmering finger over her smooth thighs.
He’s a patient fucker, that’s for sure.
“What, are you jealous?” he asks, amusement lighting up his features like fucking explosive fireworks.
“Why—no. I’m not jealous!” She shoves her hands through long silver hair but stops abruptly when she hits her new black horns.
I can’t take my eyes off the two of them; his piranha-like smile, her low-pulled frown.
I almost want to ask her how it feels to meet someone who frustrates the hell out of her just like she frustrates the hell out of us.
But I don’t, of course.
“Why are you even here?” she finally asks with a tired breath.
The wind blows an ominous howl as Krave opens his mouth.
A thundering boom cracks through whatever he was about to say. Metal clattering along floorboards and boots storming hard shake through the house from several floors below. The thumping of flipped furniture shakes the high nest we stand on, and within seconds, I can tell the intruders are climbing higher and higher into our home.
“Oh,” Krave whispers with serious worry lining his face for the first time, “I meant to warn you. Your brother is coming.”
Her eyes snap to the incubus with a murderous gleam shining in her pretty gaze.
“Get us out of here. Now!” she commands him.
“I love it when you take charge, love,” he whispers with a flick of his wrist.
And as if she were his handler, he does as he’s told without hesitation.
Black twinkling sparks fill the air from his long fingertips. It smells strangely like burning sugar. It warms me from the inside out, and I start to wish I’ll never have to leave this intoxicating magic.
I haven’t felt this calm in years.
Not since I came here to this hellacious realm a hundred years ago.
18
The Torch
Aries
When my feet sink into hot sand the color of blood and gemstones, I know where we are. I’ve never seen this realm a day in my life, but before I knew who Krave’s handler was, he used to tell me that he’d bring me here someday. As soon as my father died and his banishment was off of me, I planned come here with Krave.
Once upon a time.
Not many people daydream about the demon land in such a fairytale way, I guess. They’re missing out. Because the Torch, as demons call it, is a beautiful nothingness. Miles and miles of coasting sand set out before us. I never really wondered about where Krave and I would live if we came here together.
Not that he can stay. He’ll have to report back to my father tomorrow afternoon. I don’t even know how Krave has the power to just bring us all here. But we’re here now. And during this time, I intend to plot.
“Welcome to the hellish Empire of Asperia. Right this way, fallen friends and,” Krave arches an inky eyebrow at me as if has no idea what the fuck to call me, “matrimonial enemies.”
Well, that does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?
My eyes roll hard, but I follow after the big footprints he’s leaving in the drifting sand. Krave doesn’t use his glimmering wings, so it must not be far. Mine are still glamoured away inside myself, and I keep them there, away from the sand that’s catching in my hair and along every crevice of my skin.
Even in the evening darkness, the heat of the sand scorches under my feet, and I try not to linger too long, skipping from one place to the next while everyone else casually walks in their nice protective black boots.
Zaviar peers at me out of the corner of his eye, but I ignore him, folding my arms beneath my bra and pretending this is just a fine stroll in the park.
“Just ask for help, Crow. Come here, and I’ll carry you,” Zav says, holding out his arms to me, but I can’t stop the burst of laughter from leaving my lips.
“Carry me. No. I’m fine. I’m totally fine.” A sharp breath exits my lungs when I dawdle too long in the hot sand to reply to him. “And besides. Remember that time you threw me ass-first in a muddle puddle? Remember that, Sweet Zav? Yeah, no, fuck you. I’ll walk.”
With a slight grimace, he shakes his head at me, while Krave glares back at him with the judgment of pure hellfire for what he did to me.
Good. I hope Krave shoves a demon horn up Zaviar’s ass. On second thought, as broody as he is, he probably already has one there firmly inserted. Probably doing ass kegels around it right now as we speak.
“Let her walk. Let her suffer. At least she shuts up a bit when she’s concentrating,” Ryke mumbles, walking ahead of me with that cocky long-legged stride of his.
Why are they all such fallen fuckfaces? Aren’t angels supposed to be kind and good? Even Damien doesn’t fit the bill, because as quiet as he is, I can see the dirty thoughts pounding through his skull when he looks as me.
I’m still glaring a hole through the back of Ryke’s short brown hair when I take a running leap at the bastard.
He’s surprisingly ready for me. I land right between his smooth leather wings. His big hands slide around my thighs the moment I tackle his back, and he doesn’t stumble a single footstep. His jagged iron blades skim my skin, but he’s careful with me.
Everywhere our bodies touch is a soothing, tingling heat that no longer burns the way it once did when I’d touched his iron-cursed body.
I don’t know why that is . . .
“And that, fellas, is how you piss her off enough that she does what you told her to do in the first place.” Ryke smirks over his shoulder at me, and I’ll admit it takes me a full second to
realize he’s carrying me.
He’s such a dick. A really, really sweet dick.
My lips purse, but it’s hard for me to keep up the façade of annoyance as he hauls me around the hellacious desert as if I weigh nothing. Between his leathery wings, my arms wrap around his smooth shoulders, and I rest there against him.
The past couple weeks have been exhausting. Even when I sleep there’s no rest.
Just like tonight.
“Do you think your brother will look for you here?” Damien asks, glancing up at me.
“He’s too afraid,” Krave tells him. “He’s far too hated here. He and his father would be killed with slow, drawn-out deaths the second they stepped foot in the sand.”
What about me? As his sister, am I considered the same?
There are so many thoughts running wild in my mind, but the most prominent one is how content Catherine feels inside me right now. She’s silent. She’s resting. In peace.
Because she’s home.
We reach the top of a dune. Enormous pale buildings stacked atop each other crawl into the dark skyline. They’re whitewashed and unending. They stretch on like bleeding shadows, and I can no longer see a hint of sand between the structures. Best of all, far off along the horizon, a sparkling sea shines in the moonlight.
Is hell supposed to be this pretty?
Yes, Catherine replies on a painful tone that cuts through my chest at the sound of her remorse.
A smile, a real smile, pulls at Krave’s lips.
I love when he smiles, and that dimple shows in his left cheek. It’s a genuine look of happiness that I rarely see from him anymore.
We walk on.
I wish things were different between Krave and I. He’d be a good mate. A loyal and fierce protector.
If he wasn’t an informant on every little thing I do.
Everything that happens tonight, he’ll be forced to feed right back to my father. The magic that binds them hurts Krave if he keeps secrets from his handler. That’s how Nathiale knew I was in the fae realm. And he’ll know what I’m planning if I say any of it out loud.
I can never trust Krave. I know it, and he knows it.
And that’s a shame, because he was once the only person in all the realms that I did trust.
I was an idiot then.
Krave makes a direct line to a solid white building that’s identical to the hundreds of other white buildings surrounding it.
I have no idea what signals to him that this is the right place.
He knocks.
Only once.
A single hard rap of his knuckles.
I release my hands and slide down from my little perch on Ryke’s back. My feet meet the hot stone, and my heartbeat makes itself known. How is it I don’t trust Krave, but I don’t question him at all either?
How do I know this isn’t a setup my father and brother put in place to ship me off to a new realm altogether?
Whose house is this?
Why does he feel safe here, and why would he bring me here?
The sea stone white door slides open without a sound, and then there is no time for further questions.
A lithe man with an intense red mohawk lining his head meets Krave at eye level. His shining eyes are oddly golden and slightly mesmerizing. They don’t say a word to one another as mohawk guy pulls Krave forward and wraps his arms around him in a tight hug.
“Nix,” Krave says, clapping the stranger on the back with the widest smile on his face.
My heart melts. It melts like a puddle at our feet seeing him like this. Even when we were friends, Krave always seemed like he had this weight on his shoulders which my father probably placed there. Now he’s happy.
For the first time in a long time.
“Come in, come in,” Nix says with a voice like smooth caramel.
Krave looks back, and when he sweeps his arm to guide me in, I slip my hand in his. Every hard muscle in his body tenses as a look of awe spreads over his handsome face. He clamps his fingers over my knuckles, and I shiver slightly from the feel of the demon dust lining his touch.
The five of us step inside, and it’s so dark, I can tell it’s deep into the night. We’re interrupting, but it seems Nix is more than happy Krave is here.
“Who’s your friend, Cousin?” Nix asks.
Cousin . . .
The warmth blooms inside my chest once more.
There’s so much I don’t know about him. Krave has never had anyone. Not in the fae realm, anyway. And he’s been stuck there for so long.
“This is—” His gaze slides over my features rapidly, and I can’t help but wonder if his heart’s pounding as hard as mine is.
“I’m his mate,” I answer, saying the words out loud without a hint of anger for the first time in my life.
Krave’s lips part, and he leans in closer to me like he wants to whisper something, but he doesn’t.
I know my attitude is doing a one-eighty on him, and even I’m having a hard time keeping up. It’s just . . . I just—I want him to be happy. All the time.
He’s beautiful when he’s happy. Really happy. I’ve spent years seeing that shitty, cocky smirk on his face.
It’s never been like this.
His other palm slides low down my back until he almost skims the curve of my ass but he stops himself. Inky hair brushes against my temple, and he leans in with that quiet whisper he’s been biting back for the last several minutes.
“You don’t have to pretend for Nix, love,” he says in a heartbreaking whisper.
He says one thing but does another. If he thinks I’m pretending, he’s really taking advantage of it all. Soft lips press to the side of my jaw, and his warmth is all around me.
I feel as confused about us as he does.
“What if I’m not pretending?” I ask in a cutting breath.
His fingers dig in hard over my ass as his eyes close tightly.
“Fuck, Aries,” he rasps out so low it’s barely a whisper.
“It’s a shame incubus only have that one brain in their cocks, isn’t it?” Nix says to the fallen men whom Krave has forgotten to introduce.
Maybe he forgot they existed at all.
“So,” looking back at Krave, Nix folds his arms across his chest and leans against the door jam with a tauning look on his face, “what’s your mate’s name, and who are all these other fucks glaring at you while you paw all over your woman?” the demon asks.
Krave straightens to his towering height, and doesn’t release me as he looks at the other three men around us.
“Ah, yeah, those three are my mate’s lovers,” Krave says with all seriousness.
Nix just makes a face of understanding while I’m left gaping.
“They are not my lovers,” I hiss, like the L word is just as dirty as the F word now.
Someone tall and broad with a gaze that seems eternally pissed off steps slowly into the room without making a sound. I stand between the two strangers, and Krave turns on his heels to pass the new man a wide smile.
“Rhys,” he says with true happiness shining in his inky eyes. His smile pulls hard, revealing that boyish dimple in his cheek.
But the other man, Rhys, he just folds his arms and holds his steely gray eyes on me.
I’m reminded then that my wings are still hidden away, and I could pass as a demon.
Except I don’t feel like I look like one of them, considering how this man is sending me intense death stares.
“She get you in trouble, Krave?” Rhys asks flatly, speaking around me as if I’m not there.
Krave’s smile smolders, but he’s always good at clinging to that false look of humor.
“Only the good kind,” Krave answers mysteriously.
He lies. He’s basically lying to his friend for me.
And I’ve never hated myself more.
Of course I got him in trouble. Our entire lives are just fucking each other’s day up more than it already is. But I guess it is my turn to ruin h
is life a bit for once.
“I can tell.” That same hard glare trails over my nearly naked body. “Where’s your clothes, fae?” Rhys asks with a hard edge lacing his words.
He clearly knows I’m not one of them.
A solid step sounds through the room, and I feel the heat of Ryke’s body pressing against my back as I stand in the middle of the room and face this man’s brooding hate.
“Is there a fucking problem here?” Ryke growls.
“You’re in my fucking house. If there’s a problem, I will definitely let you know.” Rhys and Ryke’s anger pulses through the room, charged with waiting energy that’s bound to explode.
“Rhys,” Nix puts a hand on Rhy’s shoulder. “We can trust Krave.”
“I trust Krave.” Rhys’s gaze swings to me. “Dark fae born of the fucking Kingdom of Roses, they’re are a different story.”
My palm slides down Ryke’s scars and settles over his drumming heart.
“There’s no problem,” I say in a confident voice, passing everyone in the room a look that I hope means business, coming from a woman wearing nothing more than a few scraps of silk. And gods do I have to look up at them all like a small child lost in the crowed?
Rhys doesn’t seem to hear me at all, and he continues to stare daggers at each of my men—I mean friends.
“Yeah. Well, let’s grab you some clothes. I get the feeling Krave doesn’t think clearly when you’re prancing around in just your Sunday panties.” Rhys turns abruptly and strides up the dark stairwell.
Sunday panties . . . what does that even mean? Is today Sunday?
Whatever.
My feet skim over the smooth floorboards, and just as I’m about to turn into the darkness, a big hand clamps over my wrist. I shiver in response to his firm touch.
Zaviar searches my eyes. His pretty irises are darker here without much lighting, and it makes his constantly brooding gaze feel . . . dangerous.
I wait for him to speak, but he seems not to know what to say for once.
Which is a miracle in itself.
But I know he wants to go with me. I can feel it in his hesitancy. He doesn’t seem to like the idea of me following a strange man into a dark house.