Seduced By The Fae King (Mated To The Fae King Book 3)

by Bailey Dark

  “If I fall, I want you to rule in my stead,” I say over my shoulder.

  “You can’t be serious,” Thal laughs nervously as I swing onto my horse.

  I stare down at him, forcing all of my emotions into the depths of my chest. I can’t lose this battle. I can’t be distracted by fear or anger. “My councilors already know.” I tug at the reins, turning towards the mountains.

  Thal shouts indiscernibly after me as I gallop away. Our soldiers are pouring out on either side of me, heading for the empty plains at the base of the mountains. I hear my generals and Moritz’s generals shouting orders, organizing our forces. I stare up at the mountains, swallowing painfully. So much for bottlenecking, I think unhappily as the demons swarm down the cliff faces and steep slopes of the high peaks.

  I ride to the front of the lines, facing off against the assembling demons. Behind me, I can feel the intense power of the elite soldiers riding to my side. I inhale deeply, glancing over my shoulder. All I can see over the rolling hills is the golden armor of my men and the black, matte finish of Moritz’s soldiers. I feel a hint of pride as I stare at the assembly.

  But then my gaze strays back to the enemy, and any hope I had is overwhelmed by a sense of doom. The horizon is seared with shadows, shadow that I know must be Sadal’s doing. In the sky, I see thousands of red cloaks fluttering in the breeze. I feel a wave of fury thinking any of them could be Maaz.

  I raise my right fist into the air and a hush falls over the hills. Swallowing thickly, I drop my fist. The fall of my clenched fist brings shouts of courage echoing around me. Horses streak past me, black and gold riders leaning forward with swords drawn.

  The slamming of horse hooves is like an avalanche. My hair rustles as they rush past me and I scowl at their receding forms. I wonder how many of them will live to see the sun set behind us.

  The cavalry crashes into the demons and blood arcs through the air. Gray, thick, goop mingles with red, slick blood. I lean forward, heart pounding with fear and adrenaline as I watch silver flash as swords fall on the demons. Cries of fear ring out over the distance. And suddenly I hear it. I hear the sharp shrieks of the demons and it feels as if my chest caves in.

  The demons’ foot-long claws rip through our Fae armor like it’s nothing more than paper. I swallow a cry as I watch one of the beasts lift a Fae soldier with a clawed hand and suspend him in the air. The demon lowers the Fae soldier towards its open maw, and I can hear the soldier screaming. My hand wraps tightly around the sword at my side and I urge my horse forward.

  All of our careful planning means nothing now. We could never have imagined the raw force of these beasts; their immense size. Behind me, I hear soldiers murmuring. I don’t bother urging them into battle. I know my generals will send them in after me. As I approach the crest of the hill, I stop and see more demons crawling from the crevices in the mountain.

  I swing off of my horse, armored feet landing heavily on the thick grass. I can hear the men behind me preparing for action. I slap my horse, sending it back to the ranks, and drop my sword in the field. I won’t need it.

  Breathing deeply, I let the residual oozing of the curse flow through me. My nails elongate into sharp claws, hands morphing into jaguar paws. From my back, I can feel my bones and muscles stretching as wings tear through my skin. Fur coats my skin and I blink to adjust my new, heightened vision. Fully transformed, I stretch my enormous, black wings and shake out my fur.

  I launch myself into the air, a growl rumbling in my chest as the demons’ shrieking heightens. With powerful beats of my wings, I fly forward towards the army. I bellow, roaring my fury as I throw myself into their ranks. I tear through them with my claws, snatching one’s neck in my jaws.

  Foul-tasting blood oozes into my mouth as I bite through the strange, scaled skin and into its hard muscles. It goes slack in my jaws and I drop it to the ground, its blood dripping from my maw. Below me, my soldiers shout triumphantly. They turn back to the demons with renewed vigor, faces twisted into furious snarls.

  Suddenly, I see the Bloodbane swoop lower, bows and arrows aimed at me and my army. I soar towards them, dodging poisoned-tipped arrows. I plow into the Bloodbane, pain lancing through my shoulders as I knock them from their deadwood brooms. They plummet to the ground with high-pitched cries of fear. Arrows fly through the air, catching the Bloodbane by surprise. From the corner of my eyes, I see Haru’s archer in perfect form.

  With a roar, I wheel around and back to the demons below. Haru can take care of the Bloodbane now that we’ve thinned their ranks. My claws, as long and as sharp as the demon’s, are coated in blood.

  I see gold-clad soldiers fall under the demons’ claws, gasping for their last breath before the demons’ jaws close around their heads. I feel my own sanity and sense of self fade as the battle wages. I become nothing more than a killer, a hunter. My eyes are dry, narrowed, and furious as I soar into battle again and again and again.

  I feel my fur matted with black blood, but I don’t stop. I watch countless yellow eyes fade into darkness as I steal life after life. The demons balk at my approach, screeching to one another. I ignore them, shredding through their scaled bodies without mercy.

  The demons are turning back, running on all fours back to the shelter of the mountains. I roar victoriously and the archers behind me send waves of deadly arrows into the demons’ exposed bodies. I pause, hovering over thousands of carcasses and blood-soaked fields. And then in the distance, I see Sadal and Maaz atop a mountain cliff.

  I can feel Sadal’s wicked grin, feel his eyes on me. Without hesitation, I swoop towards him, beating my powerful wings until the demons and dead Fae are nothing but blurs of color below me. As I grow closer, I see Sadal’s grin widen. He seems unconcerned that we decimated his forces, if anything he looks amused. I feel cold rage coil inside my chest at the sight of him and the pale-haired woman beside him. Maaz.

  I stretch my claws forward, imaging how it would feel to curl my claws in his innards. Suddenly, Sadal steps aside in a smooth motion and I reel back, beating my wings furiously to slow. I feel sick, nauseous, and deep-seated sorrow as the woman in red comes into view. Verity, dressed in a Bloodbane cloak, stares at me with wide, fearful eyes. I see her elegant fingers reach for me before Sadal steps in front of her again, shielding her from view.

  I whirl away, reeling from the sight of her in the red cloak of my enemy. There’s a painful clenching in my chest and I know that if I wore my Fae form my sorrow and heartbreak would be clear on my face. I dive low, soaring close over the corpses that litter my lands. The stench of blood reaches my nose. I can hardly smell it; all my senses are wrapped in the realization that Verity has joined my enemies.

  I can’t get the panic in her eyes out of my mind. And I can’t forget the vibrant color of her cloak. I growl softly as I land in the midst of the surviving forces. I will get Verity back. I have to. I turn back towards Sadal, staring towards the distant cliff he’s standing on. My lips curl back over my fangs. I won’t rest until Sadal is dead at my feet and Verity is safe in my arms.

  Chapter 5

  Verity

  “Altair,” I whisper as his beastly form soars away from me. I feel tears stinging at my eyes, but I blink them away; I can feel Maaz’s eyes on me. I won’t give her that satisfaction. I know I’ll never forget the way his hazel eyes widened with shock and then grew dark with sorrow. He thinks I betrayed him, I realize. He thinks I wanted this.

  I hang my head, hair spilling over my shoulders as I fight against the pain in my chest. The Bloodbane cloak itches against my skin. My fingers twitch as I fight the urge to tear it off my shoulders and fling it into Sadal’s face. I glance up and see his black eyes watching me. My heart pounds faster anger flooding through me. As if he can sense this, his lips quirk into a victorious smile.

  “Enough games,” Maaz hisses from Sadal’s side. “Finish them.”

  “Finish?” I echo, staring at her in surprise. I wave a hand towards the thousands of demo
n corpses on the field. “It’s over, your army is decimated.”

  Maaz eyes me coolly. “You mortals are such tiny, stupid creatures.”

  “So, I’ve been told.” I glare at her.

  She turns to Sadal and wraps her thin fingers around his arm. “Do it, my Lord, show them your power.”

  My lips part softly as Sadal shakes Maaz off his arm. She ignores the slight, biting her lips with excitement. Her blue eyes are wide, gleaming, and her red lips are parted in a broad grin. Sadal doesn’t look back at us before he slips off the cliff face. My stomach lurches as his body plunges out of sight. I rush to the edge and drop to my knees. As much as my stomach is twisting with nerves at Sadal’s sudden suicidal move, my heart is pounding with anticipation. Without Sadal, there will be no more fear for Altair or me.

  My eyes rove over the twisted mass of retreating demons below, but I don’t see Sadal’s lean body on the rocks below. Dirt cakes under my fingernails as I dig my hands into the earth. Suddenly, a cloud of black smoke or tangible shadow soars upwards, blocking out the sun. I gasp sharply, falling back as it streaks past me. It rumbles, like the earth shifting, and coils towards Altair’s forces. Altair’s soldiers are pushing forward, closer to the mountain, picking off demons and Bloodbane as they go.

  The shadow is pointed right at them.

  I’m on my knees, rapt, as the shadow lunges forward towards Altair’s troops. It plows through them and suddenly the air is filled with nightmarish screaming and helpless, pained cries. The Fae archers target the mass of smoke, but the arrows slip right through it without harm. I watch as the Fae soldiers try to strike it with their swords, but it’s like trying to catch smoke.

  The shadow moves on, leaving a mass of twisted bodies and blood in its wake. My breath is trapped in my chest as I watch. “Oh, god,” I breathe, fear lancing through me.

  I hear Maaz step to my side. I glance up at her as she stares coldly down at me. “Your god doesn’t live here.”

  Over Alnembra’s plains I see Altair bank back towards the battlefield. I can’t make out his expression as he flies towards the shadow that is Sadal Melik. I don’t want to see, I think desperately. I don’t want to see the man I love torn to shreds while I stand helplessly on the sidelines. But I don’t close my eyes. I strain them wide, fingers digging painfully into the ground as my heart pounds rapidly. I will watch. I’ll watch it all. And I’ll remember.

  Altair closes in on Sadal, claws outstretched. I jump to my feet, breathing fast as the shadow coils around his winged body. Altair writhes, his wings twisted at odd angles as he struggles to get away from the Dark God. But Sadal’s dark cloud slams into Altair over and over again. I see bright red blood drip from the sky and onto the corpse-littered earth.

  Altair screams, a bellow of pain so raw and helpless that I can’t help the tear that slips down my cheek. I clench my hands together, pinching my skin. I draw blood as Altair makes a break from Sadal’s shadow. But the shadow is on him in less than a second. I lose Altair in the darkness, and it’s even worse than seeing him in pain. Now, I can’t see him at all. He could be dead, and I wouldn’t know.

  Sadal rumbles again and the sound echoes over the valley. Suddenly, I see Altair’s body flung out from the smoke. His fur is matted in blood, his blood, and his wings are twisted, looking painful and broken. He plummets to the earth and a scream lodges in my throat. I wheeze, unable to make a sound, as I watch him fall. His wings beat feebly and then he’s gone. His body disappears into a mass of dead and rotting demons.

  Sadal hovers over him for a moment before making his way through the air towards us. I can’t drag my eyes away from Altair’s resting place. I pray, I hope, I demand, that Altair will crawl out of that pile of corpses. But I see no movement.

  I feel the dark power of Sadal beside me as he changes back into the Fae form he wears. The battlefield is eerily quiet, the sound of clanging metal has faded. No more screams. No more berserker roars. Nothing. It’s over. I take a deep, uneven breath as I stare at the blood-soaked valley and plains of Alnembra. It was a massacre after Sadal became involved.

  I glance towards him and he smiles at me, looking relaxed. I turn away, wondering if he even broke a sweat killing hundreds of Fae soldier singlehandedly. Maaz croons, her eyes wet with tears of joy at their first victory. My first loss. Such a great loss, that I don’t know if I really comprehend it yet. It doesn’t feel real. At any point, I might wake up in my room in Altair’s castle and all of this will have been a dream.

  “Did you enjoy it, Verity?” Sadal asks, sidling up to me.

  I slip my gaze towards him. When I see him, hands clasped behind his back, a smug smile, I know I will never stop fighting him. Without Altair, I may not have a reason to return to Alnembra, but I will never be a Bloodbane. Not in truth.

  “You killed him,” I mutter, my eyes boring holes into his head.

  Sadal shrugs. “It wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. But it never really is.”

  Before I can think, I feel a stinging pain in the palm of my hand. Sadal’s eyes are wide, one hand lifted to his cheek. I see red blossoming on his fair skin, my hand only inches from it. I hiss, tears spilling from my eyes. I draw my hand back to strike him again, blood rushing in my ears. But the surprise has faded, and Sadal’s hand snakes out and snatches my wrist before I can land another blow.

  He laughs, tossing his head back. Sadal squeezes my wrist and I yelp as the bones grind together. “You can stop fighting, Verity,” he purrs. “There’s no use now. I’m all you have left in this world.”

  “Bastard,” I growl, tasting salt as my tears spill into my open, grimacing mouth.

  Sadal’s hand slips around my waist and he tugs me to him. Before I can stop him, his lips are pressed on mine in a rough kiss. It’s the first time he’s touched me like this since the night I betrayed Altair. I recoil from him, every cell in my body screaming to get away. But he holds me fast. Where once I felt pleasure, now there’s only pain and fear.

  He pulls back, teeth tugging at my lip. I feel hot blood drip from my lip when the bite ends, and I stare at him fearfully. His own lips are coated in my blood and his eyes are as black as pitch. His mouth twists into an unnaturally wide smile and suddenly my vision goes black.

  An instant later, I hear the voices hundreds of Bloodbane witches. I vomit when I open my eyes and see that we’re back at the Bloodbane encampment. Sadal looks disgustedly at the pool of vomit at my feet. He pivots away, disappearing between the tents.

  Panting, I watch him go. Still doubled over, I stumble into my tent and throw myself in front of the stove. Sobs wrack my body as I picture Altair falling over and over and over again. It’s my fault. My fault that we ever reached this point. If I had been stronger, if I had only done what I promised him I would do – this war might not have ever started.

  It kills me that the last memory I have of him will be seeing his face when I betrayed him. Even if I never spoke the words to Sadal, even if I never spilled any blood or gave him my body, I betrayed Altair. I joined his enemies, willfully or not. I’ll have to live knowing Altair never knew the truth. I’ll have to live knowing it was my fault he died.

  I quiet, sniffling into the red cloak. My eyes adjust and I remember that I’m still wearing it. With a snarl, I tear it off and toss it aside. Wearing nothing but the thin, scratchy dress, I curl in front of the stove. My eyes are heavy and swollen from crying. Calmer now, I close my eyes and remember the moment Altair died.

  When I open them again, all I feel is icy rage. I stand and collect the Bloodbane book. I open it, searching the book with a new purpose. I’ll use the Bloodbane magic against them. I’ll never be one of them, and I feel no sorrow at the thought of the death of every single Bloodbane witch. Spells, rituals, curses, and potions. Poison. Pain. Death. Revenge.

  Chapter 6

  Altair

  In the haze, black and red and white streaks of color blur my vision. Pain pounds through my body, searing and unrelenting
. I blink as hands wrap around my biceps and tug at my body. The pain flares even more intensely as I feel my useless legs, like deadweights strapped to my torso, drag over corpses and bloody body parts.

  The hands take me out from the pile of dead things and over the blood-soaked earth. I stare uncomprehendingly into the dead eyes of a Fae soldier. Her dark hair is stuck to her cheek, now just a carved and fleshy hunk.

  I feel myself scream, but I don’t hear the sound. I feel my mouth opening, feel the breath rushing out. I clench my eyes closed as the pain grows so intense that bile rises in my throat. “Shut up,” I hear Thal hiss, breathing hard. “Shut your gods-damned mouth before he comes back.” I blink, but my vision grows dark. Thal heaves once more on my bloodied body before the pain takes me.

  When I open my eyes again, I see a dark oak ceiling above me. I’m naked, covered only by a thin sheet; a healer’s sheet, I think sleepily. My vision slowly clears, and I glance down at my body. The healer’s once crisp, white sheets are drenched in blood from where it’s seeped through my bandages and stitches.

  I bite down hard on my tongue, determined not to scream in shock at the sight. Pain throbs in my limbs, on my torso, on my back, on my head. Slowly, it builds into an unbearable crescendo. I groan, turning my head to the side and gritting my teeth to endure it.

  The door bursts open and Thal rushes in. His face is white, his blonde hair matted and splattered in blood. His clothes are worse though, smears of dried blood cake his once pristine armor. He rushes to my side, eyes wide. “Healers,” he shouts. “The King is awake.”

  Healers pour into the room, dressed in long, white robes. They cluster around me, poultices and herbs in hand. I lay still as they call on the bit of magic the earth has given them to heal my body. Warmth floods through me as their spells wean on. The pain fades and I sigh. I look at Thal, worry knitting my brows together.