Page 6

RUAROK

The swell of noise hits me as I approach the Great Hall.

People are laughing, talking, and dancing. Musicians are in the corner playing stringed instruments. The crash and clatter of dishes as servants fill the long table with roasted meats and baked sweets fill the air.

When I woke for a second time, there had been no sign of my mystery visitor. The only thing that hinted at my experience was the amount of dried semen splattered across my skin and bed. I’d taken the time to clean myself up again before dressing for the feast.

I’d also checked my bedroom door. It had been locked.

There was no way for someone to have entered my room while I’d been sleeping.

Even if she had, how had she gotten back out again, locking the door behind her?

The queen is new to the castle—it isn’t as though she’ll have access to a key.

In fact, no one else has access to my room—at least not that I know of .

Now I think back to it, the moment feels strange and unreal in my head. I’d been asleep, hadn’t I?

Is it possible the whole thing had been nothing but a dream? Had my subconscious conjured it up because of the way I’d fallen asleep—fantasizing about fucking the queen, while jerking myself off?

It’s the only thing that makes sense.

As I enter the Great Hall, a few Fae lift into the air and fly a short distance across the room before dropping to the ground.

I scowl at the sight, acutely aware of the wings missing from my back. My black hair might single me out as being different, but I could drain the color from the strands if I really wanted.

No, there is one thing in particular, or lack of one thing in particular, that marks me out as not being Fae, and that’s my missing wings.

Not that the wings my father and his new wife possess are much good for anything.

Thousands of years of living on the ground, in cities and castles, instead of in the treetops where Fae originated, has made it so their bodies are too heavy and their wings too small for any real flight.

They might still be able to lift a few feet from the ground, and perhaps cross the length of a room, but that is all.

The skies of Askos no longer glimmer with the ethereal silver of fairy wings.

Those days have long gone.

That doesn’t mean the Fae aren’t still the most powerful of beings, however.

They still have magic, and, for the most part, they’re respected.

Being half Fae, well, that’s clearly a different matter.

Maybe if I’d been half human, or even half demon, instead of Incubi, I’d be respected a little more, but because I need sex to survive, I’m seen as everyone’s enemy.

Heads swivel in my direction. The usual whispers and comments are made behind the backs of hands.

I’ve deliberately arrived late as an extra insult to my father.

He’s already seated in his throne, the new queen at his side.

I can’t take my eyes off her. She shows no sign of having paid me a visit. She doesn’t seem to be looking for me, or to be worried about anything in particular. If she had any idea how much my father and I hate each other, surely she would have realized how I would happily use this against him.

Unless, of course, the whole thing never happened.

The king eats heartily, tearing into a hock of ham with his teeth. He has food all over his face, hanging from his beard. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. Queen Lorith must want to vomit when he leans in for a kiss like that.

Where is the daughter? Of course, feasts like this one are no place for a child, but I did wonder if my father might have taken the moment to parade his new potential heir to the throne in front of his subjects.

Or maybe he’s hoping for a miracle and to conceive with his new wife, though such a thing is unlikely.

I think back to my plan to rid myself of this new problem.

Children are vulnerable. They die all the time. They make stupid choices, like hanging from balconies, or tripping down stairs, and they get sick too. Why should the queen’s child be any different ?

Keeping my chin up and shoulders back, I wind my way between all the guests and approach the thrones.

“Ruarok, you came,” my father says.

I offer a tight smile. “You sound disappointed.”

“You’re as welcome here as anyone.”

I’m not sure that’s the truth.

One of his King’s Guard moves in to speak in his ear, distracting him. I take the opportunity to greet Queen Lorith.

“My Queen.” I take her fingers in mine and drop to one knee before her.

I place a kiss to the back of her hand, lingering perhaps a moment too long. I keep my gaze lifted, fixed on hers, in a way that I know is disrespectful.

It’s not toward her, however—this is all about saying fuck you to my father.

I don’t want to use my charm magic on her. That would spoil the fun. I want her to want me over my father not because I’ve woven my spell around her, but because I’m a better man than he is.

“So, you’re my stepson,” she says.

I lower my voice and throw her a wicked smile. “Yes, though I’d prefer to be your husband.”

She yanks her hand away.

I hold her eye. I want to read any hint of understanding or recognition in her gaze, but there is nothing.

As each moment passes, I’m becoming more convinced that the whole thing was just a dream. Disappointment settles within me. It had seemed so real. I’d convinced myself that Lorith was destined to be mine, but it seems I was mistaken .

The queen’s line of sight drifts over my shoulder, to someone behind me.

“I don’t believe you’ve met my daughter, Taelyn,” she says.

I rise to my feet, but I’m already feigning interest. Who brings a child to a ball? What if I’m now considered on the same level as some random Fae girl, and I’m expected to entertain her and sit at the children’s table?

Forcing myself to be polite—something that hurts right down to the roots of my teeth—I turn to greet the girl.

I jerk back in shock. This is no child, or at least she’s verging on the dawn of becoming a woman. I guess she’s at least a hundred and seventy years old. She’s almost identical to her mother, though clearly a hundred years younger.

“Prince Ruarok,” the girl says, extending her hand to me in much the same way her mother has just done. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Still in shock, I take her hand. Her fingers are long and slender, just like the ones that had wound around my cock and squeezed so hard it hurt. I kiss the back of her hand, the skin smooth and soft, and try to hide my reaction.

“Princess Taelyn. I’m afraid no one has told me much about you at all.”

So, this is the person who will oust me from my throne?

I’d believed I’d been dreaming about the queen, but what if…?

No, that’s impossible. I couldn’t have been dreaming about the princess. I didn’t even know she looked like…this…until a few moments ago. It must have been the quee n my imagination conjured. But I remember how I never actually got to see her face.

Could she have used some kind of magic on me?

Had she come into my room and taken me while I’d been sleeping?

Is she the one I’m destined to be with?

My cock jumps in my pants at the thought.

No, I can’t allow myself to think like that.

If her magic is stronger than mine, she may well use it to rid herself of me.

Is she thinking the same way I am—that I’m the one standing in the way of inheriting the throne?

If her homeland has been destroyed by the rot, then she has nowhere else to go.

Does she understand that if I inherit the kingdom, I’ll have no use for her?

Princess Taelyn might be stunningly beautiful, and my stepsister, but she’s also my enemy.

She looks to her mother. “I was just searching for someone to dance with. This music is so beautiful.”

The queen gives me a tight smile. “I’m sure Prince Ruarok will oblige. He is now your brother, after all.”

Her words hit me. Fuck. Princess Taelyn is my little sister, and I’ve been thinking about fucking her the entire time I’ve been standing here.

Still trying to hide my thoughts—and grateful no one here has the gift of mind-reading—I offer my arm to the princess.

“Gladly,” I say.

She gives a radiant smile and takes my arm. Together, we step out onto the ballroom floor.

Princess Taelyn is wearing a silver ballgown that’s covered in crystals and glitters as she moves.

The bodice is tightly fitted, and the skirts billow out right down to the ground.

I pull her into me, my hand at the narrow nip of her waist. She gazes up at me, her pale blue eyes so like her mother’s.

Her lips are perfect, parted slightly, so I can see the pink of her tongue and a glimpse of small, white teeth.

We dance, holding each other’s eye. I want to ask her if she was the one riding my cock earlier, but I don’t. I’m still unsure what happened. It was most likely a dream, but something tells me it was more.

We move across the floor, fluid and graceful. I’m so conscious of her hand on my back, the heat pressing through the fabric of my shirt and searing my skin. People make way for us as we spin and twirl. I sense them murmuring to one another, perhaps commenting on what a striking couple we make.

But no, we are brother and sister.

We can never be a couple. I see that. Her mother is now queen, and Princess Taelyn will consider herself as a rightful heir to the throne.

Just as I do.

Neither of us will settle for sharing.

The song comes to an end, and we stop moving and face one another. I duck my head in a bow, and she gives me a small curtsey.

“Thank you for the dance, Prince Ruarok.”

“Of course. You dance beautifully.”

She smiles and drops her gaze.

I sense eyes on me and turn to see who is watching.

It’s my father. His expression is as cold as stone. Doesn’t he want me dancing with his new stepdaughter? Or does he know what I’m thinking?

It’s only later that I realize the whole time I’d been dancing with Princess Taelyn, thinking about sex, that I never caught a glimmer of her sexual aura.

Why was that? Normally, if I’m thinking about sex, I can project some of that onto the person I’m with, especially when I’m also touching that person, but with her there was nothing.

Is there something different about my new stepsister?