by D. D. Chance
“The mountain Fae came to us years ago,” I said slowly. “They sent their delegations and pledged their fealty. They were ragged in body and spirit. And when the king sent anyone to check on them, they confirmed their dire straits.”
“Powerful magic, that,” Corran agreed, grinning. “Perception magic, even. The kind of magic that only a Hogan witch could pull off, wouldn’t you say?”
“That’s why her crown was there, her bracelets,” Belle said abruptly. “She traded for her freedom, and in return, the mountain Fae got magic strong enough to ward themselves from the High King’s attention. They each gained what they needed most.”
“That’s the right of it,” Corran said. “The Fae lord who brokered the deal with Reagan led her to the byways of the In Between, which, of course, we’d encountered a time or two, digging as deep as we do. Off she went. The academy was finished, and so was the magic of the Hogan witch.”
“But how did she accomplish it?” I asked. “Particularly without implicating the mountain Fae? How did King Orin not realize the path the Hogan witch had taken to achieve her freedom?”
“Perception magic once again,” Corran said, thoroughly delighted. “The day she disappeared, Reagan Hogan appeared in a dozen different locations throughout the realm. She was everywhere and nowhere, and then she was gone. The king figured this out quickly enough, that she had bested him. His rage knew no bounds, but he wasn’t a fool. If he went knocking on every high Fae’s door to ask the whereabouts of his witch, word would get out quickly that Reagan was gone. He couldn’t have that. And so only the high family knew the truth, and of course, those who’d helped her escape. But we weren’t talking, and neither were the mountain Fae.”
Corran turned his head and looked up, as if he could see through the very walls of the cavern. “They say her bounty still blesses Sakorn Castle, her crown and bracelets—her shackles, she called them, and I can’t say she wasn’t right.”
“The contract too, right? She left that behind?” Belle asked, the question so soft, Corran kept talking, almost as if he didn’t hear it. But he had—or at least his answer seemed to indicate he had.
“Not so much left it. Sakorn Castle was its home. Fitting enough, as that was where the first contract of the Hogan witches was signed, the blood spilled in the halls of the mountain Fae binding her to its very stones. The contract was struck and the fate of the Hogans was sealed, never mind all that came after, until Reagan Hogan left the realm of the high Fae for good. Though she never could find the actual document, I’ll have you know. Not for lack of trying, but she couldn’t ever lay her hands on the thing. I suspect she would have ripped it to shreds if she could’ve, but it still remains in its mountain home.”
I tensed, wondering if Belle would make the obvious connection—that if the Hogan contract was signed in the hall of the mountain Fae, then the ocean Fae had no hold on her family. But Corran offered a blessed distraction by leaning forward and pointing a large, meaty finger at Belle.
“That was to be the end of the Hogan witches in the Fae realm, yet here you are again,” he declared. “The need must be great to pull you back.”
19
Belle
The dinner continued, but my mind couldn’t seem to settle. The idea that this man had known my great-grandmother even tangentially, the knowledge that he’d held her secret even if it was for his own benefit, captivated me. There was so much that I wanted to ask him about my grandmother, yet something held me back.
Part of it might have been embarrassment that I should have to ask a stranger for information about my own flesh and blood, information that by all rights should have been passed down to me through my own family line…but part of it was defensiveness too. Corran had made it clear that he’d been willing to lie to gain his own ends. How could I be sure that anything he said about my great-grandmother was true? How could I know anything without seeing it with my own two eyes, since even then, in this realm, that was no guarantee of authenticity? Illusions built on illusions were the Fae’s favorite pastime, and dwarves seemed little better.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re thinking too much again?” Aiden asked, leaning close to me at one break in Corran’s endless rounds of storytelling. There was no judgment in the tone, not even real teasing, more sort of a rueful understanding, and it struck me more than it should have. I laughed.
“How do you know who to trust in a realm where everyone lies?” I asked, continuing hurriedly as Aiden frowned. “I know that sounds terrible, I don’t actually mean it that way. But you’re all so good at creating illusions for both your allies and your enemies to believe, it’s a way of life for you. When do you ever shut it off?”
“You learn who to trust, and you keep those people close,” Aiden said, as if that answer was obvious. I nodded because he wanted me to, and because there really was no answer to my question. I had never trusted anyone. Even my ma, whom I’d loved more than life, had kept secrets from me. As her mother no doubt had kept secrets from her. She may even have wanted to tell me all her knowledge and truth, but she hadn’t gotten the chance. Since then, my network of friends had been restricted to those who knew me as a tavern keeper and a low-level witch. I hadn’t even trusted anyone with my attempts at making more magic. There hadn’t seemed to be much of a point.
What sort of life was that?
Dinner concluded after what seemed like forever, the chaos and hubbub of the warriors gathered in the great hall finally slowing down.
Corran assigned one of his people to show us to our rooms for the night, guarded at the door by Aiden’s own people. Not surprisingly, I was to spend the night with him. A foregone conclusion that I found I didn’t mind so much anymore, at least not while I was in this realm. Being alone was the easiest way to end up dead.
Oh, sure. That’s why I was happy to be sleeping with Aiden. Right.
I tried to push down my ridiculously fluttery excitement as Aiden finished his conversation with the guards at the door and closed it behind him. I stared at the fire as he walked toward me, trying to remember that I should be worried about the danger all around me, not wondering when I’d get to see this beautiful hunk of a Fae naked again.
“Has anyone ever kidnapped a Hogan witch?” I asked, my words unexpectedly loud in the quiet room.
Whatever he thought I was going to ask him first, that apparently wasn’t it. He stopped, then approached far too quickly until he stood in front of me, pulling me around to face him. He searched my face. “Why?” he asked harshly. “What have you seen?”
I blinked at him, startled, then shook my head. “No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I haven’t seen anything. It just struck me that there are all these layers of lies and calculations around one woman, and—it feels like a lot. Why was there only one witch brought to the Fae realm, ever?” My mind instantly shot to Celia, likely still fast asleep in the academy under the care of the High King, but now wasn’t the time to betray what she really was. Or did Aiden already know?
Alarm flared through me. I needed to stay focused. “Why is it that all the various realms of the Fae don’t have their own witch?” I pressed on, narrowing my eyes at Aiden. “And if there’s a good reason for that, why isn’t said witch targeted by all the other clans?”
He gave me an amused smile. “You don’t think the High King is capable of protecting his people? His allies?”
I rolled my eyes. “I mean, of course you’re amazing, and the High Kings always have been amazing, but you see what I’m saying? It seems like at some point or another, somebody would have tried to, if not kidnap the Hogan witch, then flat-out kill her. Because people suck like that. A lot.”
He considered the idea, then shrugged—a little too casually for my liking. “The Fae at their core are a simple group. Our hierarchy is absolute. If another family or another faction tried to overthrow the High King or committed an act of war, as stealing a human would be, there would be war. There would
be death.”
“But there was a war, wasn’t there?” I asked. “When the mountain Fae fell to the ocean Fae?”
“Not a true war, nor one that ended in death,” he said. He ran his hands through his hair, and I noticed for the first time that he seemed agitated. “And for that, we likely have the first Hogan witch to thank.”
“I guess…” I murmured, still struggling to work through it, but Aiden gestured sharply, as if coming to some conclusion.
“You have a right to read the contract, Belle, to understand it,” he said heavily. “I have released you from it—”
“Yeah, about that,” I began, but Aiden pushed on, overriding me.
“But that doesn’t change your need to see it, and I will meet that need. We’ll secure the contract before we return to my castle. Reagan could not locate it on her own, but I am the king of the Fae. It can’t remain hidden for me, once I set my mind to finding it. In fact, we can go now, should you wish to.”
His sudden capitulation made me jolt, and when I brought my head up with a snap, I was suffused with an image of pain—fear—running. Escape. Whatever the Hogan witch contract held, I wasn’t going to like it, I realized in a flash, and panic flared up inside me, quick and hot.
But when I refocused on Aiden, an entirely different set of sensations rushed through me. Intimacy. Comfort. Passion, even, partnered with a white-hot flare of power that leapt in my veins, desperate to take flight.
What path would I choose this night? What path should I choose, first, last, or ever?
I stared at Aiden, once again seeing myself in his arms, the rustling flurry of sheets, the heat of need fulfilled in epic, bone-melting fashion. This was my future, or at least it could be my future—right? Except, even now as I stared at him, it shifted and turned, already becoming uncertain. A dozen other scenes flashed through my mind and slipped away, none of them as deep and needful as simply falling into Aiden’s arms.
I thought about the Hogan contract and what it might hold. I thought about this night and what it might promise. I had no way of knowing the future, only the present. And in this moment, I knew without a doubt: if I left the realm of the high Fae without making love to Aiden again, I’d be the biggest fool who ever lived.
Hogan witches were no fools.
“We’ll read the contract tomorrow,” I said. “Tonight I have other plans.”
20
Aiden
I stared at Belle, my mind a world of shock and conflict that she had absolutely no idea about—all wrapped up in one Light-forsaken contract.
Had my family truly stolen the Hogans from the mountain Fae? It wasn’t impossible. It was even believable. We had held power for thousands of years. We’d done so without magic, and then we suddenly had magic three hundred years ago, and our power had only grown. Now, no one dared oppose us; no one needed to. But the mountain Fae had attempted to overthrow us three hundred years ago…and given the autocratic nature of my own recent family members, it was reasonable to assume they’d made the attempt for good reason.
But had we truly forced the enslavement of a human witch for centuries with no binding contract to ensure our strength? Had we stooped that low?
Belle said something, but I didn’t hear it. I frowned, refocusing on her. Her face was flushed, and though my brain was still chasing riddles, my body reacted to her heat and the unmistakable intensity of her stare.
I didn’t know what she said, but I wasn’t going to ask her to repeat it. Not if there was even a chance that she wanted what I thought she did.
I stepped forward, and she didn’t retreat. She tipped her chin up, those smoky eyes inscrutable. She was a swirl of emotions I couldn’t hope to decipher. And I found I didn’t need to as long as she looked at me like that, with her lips parted, her breathing fast, her whole body trembling.
“Belle,” I murmured, and I lifted my hands to either side of her face, bending toward her, taking her mouth with mine. The taste of her on my lips, my tongue, was like the finest honey, and my entire body blazed with need. I had wanted her since the moment I’d laid eyes on her, that need doubling and redoubling every time she entered a room or stood beside me or so much as looked at me. But this taste of her escalated the temptation a thousandfold. I pulled her to me in a rush of desire, plundering her mouth, ranging kisses over her cheek, her neck, dragging in the scent of her. She pulled up my shirt, the heavy belt, and suddenly, there was far too much clothing between us.
I stood back with an almost inarticulate groan and wrenched off my belt, peeling out of my trousers and tunic. Belle began to take off her own clothes, then she stopped and stared. There was heat in her gaze, but also surprise, and something about that took me closer to the edge than anything that had come before.
“You’ve seen me naked before, Belle.” I tried for humor, but my words came out in a rumble of need.
“It’s different every time,” she countered, her cheeks flushed. “I’ll never—it’s different. You’re different. Or…maybe I am.”
She bit her lip, and I clenched my fists to keep from grabbing her. “You’d best finish undressing yourself, or you’ll have no clothes at all to wear tomorrow,” I advised her, something deep and primal responding once again to the flush of heat in her cheeks.
She half turned from me, pulling her tunic over her head, slicking off her trousers and the underclothes beneath. And then she stood before me, glorious and naked, a riddle of ink spilling down one arm. As much as I wanted to stop and savor the sight, I could tolerate no further delay. In one stride, I caught her up, and in another, I pulled her into my arms, swinging her around to the nearest flat surface. A pair of low couches flanked the fireplace, and they would have to do. I launched for the closest one as Belle laughed, her voice tight with excitement and something else. Need, hunger. Joy, almost.
It was this last I held on to most of all.
She pulled my face to hers and met my kisses with equal vigor, her hands almost frantic, stroking down my arms. I rolled, then positioned her above me. She gasped, looking down at me with wide eyes that seemed to search everywhere at once. She dropped a hand on my chest almost tentatively—no, definitely tentatively, and my haze cleared enough to finally understand.
“Belle,” I said, my voice sounding unsteady even to my ears. “You’ve put on the crown and the shackles of the Hogan witch. Your magic is stronger. You’re stronger. If you can’t—if you want to wait—”
She practically choked in her haste to counter my words. “Oh, no—no, no, no. Don’t you dare stop now, Aiden.”
She slid down, moving over me, and my eyes nearly crossed with the weight of her on me, but I didn’t want to miss a moment of this exquisite connection with her, didn’t want to leave any inch of it unexplored.
“Belle,” I whispered, managing to roll her until she lay sprawled on her back, suddenly seeming so small in the circle of my arms as her body stretched out alongside mine. I drew my hand over her brow, down the curve of her cheek, the long line of her arm, then dropped to her waist and traced the curve back up to the soft swell of her breast. “There are so many ways to make love, my beautiful witch. We can go slow as well as fast. Let me start with this.”
I closed my hand over her breast, kneading gently, and was rewarded when she arched beneath my hand, a deep groan emanating from her throat.
I heard a growl next and realized it was my own, my desperate need banked temporarily as I spent long, languorous minutes stoking the fire deeper within her. Belle shivered and sighed in counterpoint to me, her rising heat unmistakable, and when my fingers reached the nexus of her thighs, they parted easily, her breath catching only slightly as I dipped my fingers into her. Any thought I still had of going slow diminished dramatically as she whimpered and groaned.
“Aiden,” she murmured. Despite knowing better, I looked into her eyes.
That—well, that was all it took. Levering myself over her, I held her gaze without flinching, and with the sweet sound of her n
ame sighing across my lips, I slid home.
And my world…shattered.
21
Belle
I woke to find myself encaged in Aiden’s arms and was careful not to move. I stared out at the dancing fire visible above the tumbled sheets, hearing its crackle as if for the first time. When had we ended up in the bed? I scanned as much of the chamber as I could without moving, afraid of waking Aiden, afraid of dealing with the consequences of what I’d done.
My gaze returned to the fire. Did I feel any different having had sex with the High King of the Fae after my magic had been fully activated? My body felt warm, heavy—exercised but not abused, not sore. But my blood seemed to move more quickly in my veins, my heart rate seemed heavier, as if with each thump, more blood was shipped to every corner of my body and yanked back again. I dropped my eyes to slits, willing a vision to come to me of what lay in Aiden’s future, and I fought the shiver.
There was cold. A frigid wind against a bright, rose-colored stone, debris everywhere— even on the inside of what had once seemed to be an elegant castle. Was this Sakorn Castle? Maybe? It could have been, but for the color of the stone and the state of the place. Was it simply another area of the castle? Or was it another home altogether of the doomed mountain Fae?
“Should I be worried that you’re so quiet?” Aiden rumbled behind me, making no move to draw me tighter. He didn’t have to. His arm was already draped over my chest, his hand gentle but decisive on my shoulder. I wasn’t going anywhere.
In truth, I didn’t want to go anywhere. I closed my eyes against the unexpected rush of need, hope, and almost desperate wanting that swamped me with its strength. I shouldn’t fall for Aiden—I couldn’t. He would leave me. He’d send me back to my world sooner or later, and I would be alone. There was no way around that, no matter how much he wanted me or even needed me. I had obligations too, obligations that mattered, but all I wanted…