Tempting the King (Witchling Academy Book 2)

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Tempting the King (Witchling Academy Book 2) Page 22

by D. D. Chance


  “Aiden!”

  40

  Aiden

  I raged against magic, against royalty, against contracts, lies, and deceiving truths. I raged most against myself. How could I have done a damned thing in this blasted barrow, knowing that the wrong words and actions from the right Fae could be disastrous for Belle, for me, without even giving her time to think, to process, or to tell me no? What kind of fool was I?

  I sketched another portal into the human realm. Although it once again showed Belle’s tavern, the place remained empty, a storm battering its windows, its Fae wood looking charred and smoky against the clouded bricks, but otherwise, the tables and chairs and bar gleaming with polish. Belle wasn’t there. I cast my net farther, deeper into the hills and valleys of the human realm. Portals flashed open and closed for hundreds of miles outward, but there was no Belle. We were bonded! How could I be resisted in such a way? How—

  I stopped, the barest flash of one of the portals catching my attention. I had to go back through half a dozen attempts, but the flash was there again—not Belle, not exactly, but the whisper of pale gold. I stopped and opened a half dozen more portals, all around the offending item. It could be nothing, but Fae gold lost its luster quickly upon entering the mortal realm. Left to its own devices, it would resemble human gold within a few years, and the transition was faster when there was magic applied.

  This gold, however, had been maintained. Which meant it was either new or deliberately held to its Fae properties. Another flash in one of the portals had me drawing closer still, and finally, I saw a mansion overlooking a grand lake, whose very foundations were laid with gold. That gold had long since turned, serving as bedrock, but it wasn’t the source of the flash I had seen. That was brighter, more immediate.

  “Aiden!”

  Belle’s voice cut across my search, arrowing to my core, and in her straits, her mind opened to me and I saw what she saw. A wall of Fomorian warriors crashing over her, an alien tide, and behind them, deep within the blue-green mist that boiled out of wherever disgusting hole they had crawled out of, stood still another beast, three times the size of his fellows, dripping in putrid oil, fierce with power.

  And he was wearing a crown. A crown!

  The view shifted, widened, and I watched as Belle struggled against her wall of attackers. I surged forward, but I was rebuffed again and again, my legs churning in a roiling surf. She was taken, pulled forward, and once she fell through the muck-ridden portal, her gaze filmed over. She burst out on the other side, only to be caught up immediately by the horrible, long-limbed creature. He grinned with fierce delight, and Belle’s eyes fluttered open. She looked straight into his face, then smiled radiantly.

  Once more, I could see what she saw, and my heart turned to stone.

  “Aiden.” She sagged, practically vibrating with relief—then passed out cold in the arms of the Fomorian king.

  Epilogue

  Belle

  I came to with a start, my first thoughts filled with desperate joy that Aiden had arrived to help me get the hell out of this place. But the moment my beautiful Fae king had pulled me into his arms, I’d blacked out. And now…

  Now I didn’t know where I was. Aiden, however, had vanished.

  Super not helpful.

  I sat up cautiously, trying to get my bearings. It was easy enough to do. Still dripping with Fomorian muck, I lay huddled at the front of a long, wide domed room, empty of everything except for a lone figure seated on a dark throne far over on the other side. Big. Blond. Male. And damned near naked. Even from this distance, I knew this definitely wasn’t Aiden.

  “You may approach,” the figure spoke, a bare whisper sliding across the cool stone to me, and I glanced up to take in the giant dome again. Nice acoustics.

  I stood, shaking off the worst of the goop. When I finally got to a hot shower, I planned on staying in it for at least three weeks. “Why don’t you show me your real form?” I snapped, refocusing on the hulking male at the far end of the room.

  He made a dismissive gesture. “How do you know this isn’t my real form? How do you know that everything you’ve learned about the ancient enemies of your kind isn’t a lie? Do you believe so completely in all you have been told? Have you not been given ample reason to doubt?”

  His voice had a low, mocking tone to it, and despite my wariness, I felt drawn forward, each step taking me disproportionately closer to Mr. Tall, Dire, and Minimally Dressed. Also with each step, my own clothing dried, the ick seeming to evaporate into thin air, while the guy’s features grew sharper, more distinct. High cheekbones, deep-set, brooding eyes, sculpted mouth, and rock-solid jaw. There was no denying he’d decorated himself in the height of manly glamour. Even while he sat on his oversized throne of gleaming obsidian, I could tell he was thickly muscled, and though he wore no shirt or pants, only some sort of deep black drape across his lap, his head was covered in a heavy-looking, spiky crown of unadorned gray metal. He didn’t move as I studied him, but continued speaking.

  “It would seem we have a need to rehabilitate our image,” he said drily. “But my immediate need for you is sharper than that. I have seen the work you have done in the Fae realm, Belle Hogan, have watched you read from our own blessed books. There’s no question that you can help us—can, and will, for the greatest glory of the Fomorian horde.”

  Everything in me recoiled at his smug certainty, and I stopped, still a good ten feet away from him. I didn’t want to get any closer.

  “So…you need a teacher?” I asked, my thoughts tripping over themselves in my rush to understand.

  “In part, I do, to teach me all that has been forgotten, to open pathways that have long been shut,” he allowed. His gaze raked over me as he leaned back in his throne, a hard, satisfied smile playing over his face. “But mostly, I need a wife.”

  Thank you so much for reading TEMPTING THE KING! Want to see how it all ends?

  TAMING THE KING, the final book in the Witchling Academy series, is available now for pre-order (and it’s a lot of fun!)

  In the meantime, please visit me on Facebook to say hello—and happy reading, wherever your adventures take you.

  About D.D. Chance

  D.D. Chance is the pen name of Jenn Stark, an award-winning author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy and contemporary romance. Whether she’s writing as Jenn or D.D., she loves writing, magic and unconditional love. Thank you for taking the adventure with her.

  www.ddchance.com

  Copyright © 2021 by D.D. Chance

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by B Rose Designz.

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in encouraging piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase/Download only authorized editions.

 

 

 


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