Seduced by Darkness (Dark Court Rising)

by Bec McMaster

  “One can believe that,” says a deep, masculine voice that picks the pronunciation of every word out carefully.

  My entire body clenches as if he murmured those words directly into my ear.

  That voice.

  My head whips toward the Prince of Evernight’s throne and the breath drives from my lungs as if a fist slammed into my sternum. He looks like a prince from a fairy tale, but I know better; I’ve had those hands on my skin in every way possible. This man is no hero. He’s the villain, and temptation is his crime.

  The prince stares at me expressionlessly. If not for the intense gleam in his green eyes, I’d almost think us strangers. But it’s there. The heat. The memory. The challenge. That soft mouth is pressed into a thin line, his cheekbones sharp enough to cut butter. I can feel that mouth moving over my skin, his tongue tracing lazy circles around my navel as he dips his head lower.

  Of them all, he alone doesn’t bother to wear a crown.

  He doesn’t need to.

  There’s no denying this male has power. There’s no denying he’s dangerous. Clad in a black velvet doublet, he reclines at ease, both arms resting along the arms of his throne.

  And he looks at me as if we share a secret and he’s just dying to ask me more about it.

  Even though I half-expected it from the second I heard him speak, shock ripples through me as I stare into my lover’s eyes.

  The Prince of Evernight.

  I fucked my mother’s dearest enemy.

  Oh, my gods.

  My heart skips a beat and the blood drains from my face. Shock turns my feet clumsy, and I trip over absolutely nothing, slamming into Edain. My stepbrother grabs me, leaving me tangled uncomfortably in his arms with my nose driving into his velvet-clad chest.

  This is the single most embarrassing way to make my official welcome to the alliance, and I can practically feel my mother’s glare searing the back of my neck as Edain sets me to rights.

  “Iskvien?” Edain murmurs.

  “S-sorry.” I brush the velvet nap free of the indentation of my face and then realize I’m rubbing my stepbrother’s chest right in front of everyone.

  His eyebrows shoot up.

  He freezes.

  Please, please swallow me whole, I silently beg the Hallow.

  A shiver runs through the slate beneath us, gravel skittering across the ground. It’s enough to tear everyone’s eyes from my face and I dart behind my mother’s throne, not daring to look at anyone as I hide behind Andraste.

  Especially the Prince of Evernight.

  I scrape a trembling hand over my mouth.

  What am I going to do?

  I bedded the enemy.

  I fucked the Prince of Evernight, and in doing so, I gave him the gift that my mother has promised Etan.

  My virginity.

  Even if he didn’t know who I was, he knows now and I am drowning so deep.

  Oh, I understand the rules of the game. Of court. My mother and Thiago are enemies. And he knows she wouldn’t approve of what happened. He holds all the power right now. A single smirk, a handful of words, and he has my mother over a barrel. Worse, he has a knife at my throat.

  There is torture, and then there is an hour spent furiously staring at my toes as the alliance barters and bargains.

  Evernight was curiously quiet, and I just know he spent the entire time watching me. I was barely even aware of Etan, clearing his throat at Maren’s side every now and then as if to try and capture my attention.

  I just wanted it to be over.

  And then the gods finally granted my wishes.

  “What in the Underworld was that?” My mother hisses as we safely pass through the tent line that marks Asturian territory. “Were you trying to humiliate me?”

  I’ve had an hour to come up with a reasonable excuse and I have nothing. “I wasn’t watching where I was going and I tripped. I’m sorry.”

  “I intended to present you to my fellow queens officially, and you bumble in looking like some pathetic milkmaid off her family’s farm.” She steps into my space, pushing her face close to me. “I don’t want to see you again tonight. Andraste,” she snaps to my sister. “See Iskvien to her tents. She can spend the night inside it, reflecting on her foolishness. No dancing. No singing. No wine. No dinner.”

  As far as punishments go, it’s infinitely better than I was expecting.

  My sister stays by my side as my mother stalks toward her tents, Edain following like a well-trained shadow.

  “Come,” Andraste says.

  This is the hardest part, because my sister knows me best. I might have fooled the others, but I can sense Andraste’s curiosity.

  She waits until we’re safely inside my tent to look at me, however. “You never trip over your own feet. I’ve seen you with a sword in hand. Your footwork is excellent.”

  “My footwork is excellent,” I admit. “It’s my heart that’s the issue.” I square my shoulders. “The last two days have been one shock after the other, and the second Etan smiled at me….” I shrug.

  Her eyes narrow. “Etan wasn’t there when we arrived.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  I sink onto my bed. “Maybe I conjured him then.”

  “Maybe you’re lying through your teeth,” she says, crossing her arms. “What’s going on?”

  I shoot her a sour look. It’s not that I don’t entirely trust this sudden peace she seems to be offering—because I don’t—but I so desperately want to believe it’s real.

  “Do you remember what you suggested I do last night?”

  Her eyes widen.

  “He was there today. I wasn’t expecting to see him again.”

  “The man you were with this morning? The man you kissed?”

  “It was a little more to it than that.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up. She didn’t ask. Merely chided me for not returning sooner.

  “You don’t have to look so surprised,” I retort. “You were the one who suggested it.”

  “Yes, but….” She paces within my tent. “You’re always so… so…”

  “So what?”

  “Prim,” she admits, as if she’s chosen the word carefully. “You’ve barely even kissed before.”

  “The last time I kissed someone,” I snap, “I found out he’d been keeping a mistress for our entire relationship. And there’s hardly anyone I’d consider at mother’s court. They’re all either in her pocket, or trying to kiss her shoes.” I hug my knees to my chest. “I don’t want to be a prize or a sign of her favor. I just want….”

  “What?”

  Love. It’s a foolish little dream. I choke it down where she can’t see it. “I just want to meet someone I can trust. Someone who cares for me. A little. Someone who looks at me and sees me. Iskvien. Not my mother’s pawn. Not a means for advancement, or a means for revenge.”

  Revenge. There. I’ve said it, and now my entire soul locks on that word I’ve been trying not to even think about.

  Why did the Prince of Evernight focus on me?

  Because he did. He took one look at me and he had to have me, and I fell into his arms like a pathetic little virgin.

  It can’t have been coincidence, and I think I hate that more than anything.

  Did he fuck me so he could gloat about it to my mother? Or his court?

  What was last night all about?

  Why did he give me such control?

  What does any of it mean?

  “Who was he?” Andraste murmurs, sinking onto the bed beside me.

  “I don’t even know,” I say hastily. “Just a… retainer in some other court.”

  Andraste gives me a long, slow look.

  “Someone I shouldn’t have slept with,” I snap. “Congratulate me on being a fool. I earned it.”

  She sighs and leans back on her hands. “Do you know why I wanted you to find someone?”

  Stillness creeps through my heart. We haven’t confided in each other like this
for years. “Why?”

  Andraste stares blankly at the tent wall in front of her. “Because I wanted one of us to be happy. I want that for you, Vi.” Her lashes obscure her eyes. “Because none of the rest of us are ever going to get it.”

  I swallow. Hard. “I’m trapped by a marriage contract I can’t get out of. I’m fairly certain that’s not my happily-ever-after.”

  “You promised Mother you would sign Maren’s contract,” she replies astutely. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the exact words you used.” She pushes to her feet, looking far older than me in this moment. “I don’t know how you can get out of this arrangement, but I do know you have a chance. You have time, Vi. You want to make your own choices? Then start playing the game. You don’t have the luxury of being a little girl anymore. Fight her. Fight back. But don’t do it overtly.”

  That’s easy for her to say….

  She’s the favored one. She can do no wrong. She’s so fucking perfect it makes my heart squeeze up tight and small.

  “I’ll think about it,” I mutter.

  Andraste pauses with her hand on the tent flap. “I shouldn’t ask, but was it good? Was he kind to you?”

  I sink my chin into my knees, heat flaring through my cheeks.

  She laughs. “Good. I’m glad he was chivalrous enough to show you what pleasure means. Now stop being a little pet. Unsheathe your claws and play that bitch right back.”

  Then she’s gone and I notice she didn’t push me on the details.

  Because she doesn’t want to know.

  If she doesn’t know, then she can’t betray me.

  I don’t know why that little thought gives me heart. Maybe my relationship with my sister isn’t entirely ruined.

  “Maybe you should count your blessings,” I grumble to myself, “because at least you don’t have to dance with Etan tonight.”

  I sink back onto my narrow bed, hauling the blankets up over my face.

  What am I going to do? How did this happen?

  “Why did you let me do this?” I beg Maia.

  There’s no answer from the goddess.

  There never is.

  I groan and roll onto my side, and as I do, paper crinkles near my ear. Odd. I throw the blankets back, but there’s nothing there. Running a hand beneath my pillow, I find a folded scrap of parchment, barely two inches wide.

  Meet me, it says. Same time. Same place. We need to talk.

  I sit up abruptly. How did it get in here? Mother’s encampment is almost more formidable than a prison when she’s at camp.

  I’ve never seen that writing before, but I know who it belongs to. There’s an impatient slant to the letters as if it was written in a hurry.

  Or as if he wrote it several times before screwing up each individual attempt, and finally jotted down the basics.

  We need to talk.

  My heart skips a beat. To meet him is foolish and dangerous.

  But it I don’t, then what will he do? What will he say?

  Will he tell my mother?

  Was I right? Is this revenge?

  Or just the opening play in a sick and twisted game?

  The prince of Evernight holds a knife to my throat with this knowledge, and I need to know how to protect myself from it.

  It’s not difficult to slip away from the Asturian camp.

  The guards are all watching without.

  And I’m the invisible daughter.

  Throwing a cloak over my shoulders, I draw the hood over my hair and then slip into the forest, avoiding the bonfires and revelry as much as I can.

  The little bower where I lay with the Prince of Evernight stands empty. There’s no one nearby, the party having moved closer to the lake. I don’t know if that’s an ominous sign or not.

  Crickets chirp as I pace back and forth.

  The moon picks out every single night-blooming Sorrow flower. They slowly unfurl, opening their faces to its soft light, little firefly lights dancing around their petals. Demi-fey by the look of it, stealing nectar until they’re Sorrow-drunk.

  “You came.”

  I spin around, one hand dropping to the hilt of the knife sheathed at my hip and the other staring into the shadows beneath the trees. My heart pounds with a mix of dread and something I can’t name. “Of course, I came.”

  How could I not?

  He can ruin me with a single sentence.

  The same way he ruined me with a kiss.

  “I didn’t think you were going to,” he says. “You would barely look at me today.”

  “I was trying not to give myself away. You didn’t seem to have any such compunctions. Come into the light.”

  Thiago seems to melt out of the shadows. Black leather encases his chest and shoulders in woven strips that delineate each hard muscle. His cloak flows down his back. The entire outfit is stark and imposing, the impact of it only heightened by the fact he towers over me. There’s no sign of a crown. No rings. Not a single hint that he’s royal.

  He doesn’t need them.

  He makes Etan look like some sort of dandelion seed of a lad, pampered and spoiled and soft.

  Power lingers in the direct look he gives me. The predator is leashed for the moment, but there’s a hint of hunger in his eyes. I saw that look last night, as if he wanted to consume me. It’s there again right now, and I can’t help feeling the slick of heat that traces wet fingers between my thighs.

  I can feel him again, teeth sinking into my shoulder as he thrusts inside me, a roughened growl echoing in his throat—

  And no, I’m not thinking of that.

  I can’t afford to.

  Because that was last night, when he was merely a handsome stranger.

  And now he’s the enemy with a knife at my throat.

  “We need to talk.” His expression locks down hard and tight.

  It’s like the words set me free. I hold up the note between two fingers. “So you said.”

  “Last night—”

  “Last night was a mistake.” I curl the note into my fist as he steps closer to me. “I had no idea who you were.” My breath catches, but I have to ask. “Did you know?”

  “No.” Feral heat lights up his eyes as he leans toward me. “Not until this morning when I saw that fucking mark on your back when you slipped from my arms.”

  He could be lying.

  I swallow, trying to force my reckless heartbeat to steady.

  “What are you going to do?” Somehow, my voice comes out crisp and cool. I’ve spent years watching my mother rule her court. I reach down deep inside myself and summon the part of her that’s within me.

  I am a princess of Asturia, and if you expect me to beg for mercy, then you shall be left wanting.

  His eyes narrow as if he’s sorting through my words. “Do?”

  “You hold the winning cards in your hand,” I say coldly. “But I warn you that my mother won’t take kindly to the knowledge of what happened between us.”

  “I didn’t think she would.”

  “She won’t cede Mistmark to you. Not for me.”

  “That’s what you think I’m here for?” Anger roughens his voice and he takes a step toward me. “You think this has anything to do with your mother?”

  “You came for me.” I can see it all over again. “The second you saw my face across the clearing you came for me as if you knew me. Tell me this isn’t some sort of game. Tell me that you didn’t think to use me against my mother.”

  “I. Had. No. Idea.” His eyes look almost black in the night. “And if I was going to play a game with your mother, then I certainly wouldn’t play this one.” His expression retreats into itself. “It’s only bound to cause more pain than pleasure.”

  I can’t help noticing he doesn’t say no.

  Lies are difficult for the fae. It creates a world where we step carefully around our words.

  “I don’t believe you. I’m not that beautiful.” It’s something I’ve been hearing all my life. Smaller than my mother and sister.
Dark of hair and eyes, where they’re tall, slim and golden. “I’ve hardly got the kind of face that would set kings to war over me. But you took one look at me, and you wanted me. Tell me the truth.”

  “It is the truth.” For the first time he looks discomforted. “You are beautiful. You took my breath the first moment I saw you. I could barely speak for want of you.” He shakes his head a little savagely. “You have no idea the kind of warmth your smile lights within me.”

  My heart knots up very tight and small at the words.

  I thought I’d grown used to being unloved. I’d hardened the callus around my heart, and told myself I didn’t care for such emotions. Kindness is a weakness. Friendship a dream. And love is a peculiar kind of torture.

  But it’s like Thiago somehow senses the chink in my shields, because I feel those words in my heart like rain after a long endless run of drought.

  “I looked at you and I was helpless to stay away, helpless to resist.” He rakes his hand through his hair a little savagely. “You want the truth, Princess? Then here it is. Wanting you is the worst thing that could ever happen to me. Your mother captured a very dear friend of mine. My intention when I arrived at the queensmoot was to get my friend back at any cost. I even jokingly suggested to my friends that kidnapping you and using you as a bargaining chip might be an option.”

  I step away from him sharply.

  Thiago holds his hands up in surrender. “I would never do that. It was a joke. A stupid fucking joke the gods must have been listening to. Meeting you—what happened between us last night—is like taking a sword to my plans and obliterating them. If your mother realizes I laid one hand on your head, she’ll slit Finn’s throat and deliver his head to me. I can’t afford that. I shouldn’t be here, talking to you right now. I shouldn’t have stared at you this afternoon. I should pretend we’d never met and walk away and forget you.”

  I hadn’t even thought about Finn. “Then why don’t you?”

  “Because of this.”

  He steps into me, one hand sliding behind my nape as he hauls me toward him.

  Thiago’s mouth crashes down upon mine and I freeze as he lays siege to my mouth.

  The kiss takes me by surprise.