Page 35 of A Dance with the Fae (Mistress of Magic #1)

‘I watched you fuck him.’

Faye opened her eyes to find herself inside Finn Beatha’s bedroom and was immediately on her guard.

Whenever she was transported to Murias, it was bodily. She knew that she would have just disappeared in front of Rav, and she could only imagine how distressing that was.

‘You kissed him. Made love with him. On my land. When I expressly forbade it. That is not the behaviour I expect from my sidhe-leth .’ He stared at her harshly, his voice ringing out even among the walls hung with their ornate tapestries.

Today he wore something akin to a suit of armour, though it was still finely detailed with the Celtic spirals and intricate knotwork that was everywhere else in the castle, chased into the edges of the golden breastplate which accurately followed the contours of his muscled chest.

‘I…I…’ Faye’s voice wavered; she felt choked by fear, and discombobulated by being spirited away to the faerie realm.

Bile rose in her throat: the sudden transition to faerie was too fast, too extreme.

Finn’s once intoxicating charm seemed like it belonged to another person; now, he was cold and inaccessible.

‘How did I get here?’ she panted, swallowing the bitter bile in her throat. She shook her head, desperate to get rid of the nausea that was filling her.

Somehow, she had to maintain her strength.

‘I can summon you as and when I wish,’ Finn said dismissively, looking her over with a frown. ‘Though I appreciate you arriving so flushed with pleasure, and scantily clad.’ Finn grimaced at Rav’s T-shirt. ‘Take it off. I will not have another man’s cast-offs on my sidhe-leth .’

‘I am not yours, so don’t talk about me as if I were your property,’ she fired back at him. ‘I will keep it on.’

‘You will not.’ He stepped forward, grabbed the T-shirt and ripped it from the neck to the hem, then pulled it off her.

Faye cried out at the sudden attack, and tried to cover herself with her hands.

‘Perhaps I shall keep you naked here, at my bidding.’ Finn smiled, looking her up and down. ‘There is no need to hide yourself from me, sweet one. It is nothing I have not seen before. From every angle imaginable.’

‘You can’t…’ Faye wanted to argue, knew that he was wrong, but she was unable to bring the words to her lips. She knew that Finn could not keep her in Murias if she chose to leave, but the effects of being in the faerie world made it difficult to stay clear-headed.

She recognised the delicious haze of fae descending on her, like too many glasses of wine with Annie after-hours in the shop, under the full moon, or luxuriating in an erotic dream, not wanting to wake up but knowing that the real world tugged at the edges of it, waiting for her to return.

‘I can, and, if it pleases me, I will,’ Finn snapped.

‘How dare you take another lover? Am I not enough for you? Am I not everything you desire?’ He turned his back on her and paced the room sulkily, prowling like a cat.

‘You are not the only lover I could have, sidhe-leth . Many others would willingly take your place.’

Faye couldn’t respond: the same tightness restricted her throat, and she knew for sure that it was Finn’s enchantment that bound her words.

In her right mind, she would have argued back, told him that whatever was happening between them, it was over.

That he had no right to treat her like this and that she never wanted to see him again.

But her thoughts were disconnected and vague.

She felt tears of frustration springing to her eyes.

Finn turned and met her gaze, a speculative expression in his that were the colour of a tumultuous sea.

‘I have not stopped thinking about you since the last time you were here. You know I want you; you are unlike a mortal woman, Faye. You and I are destined to be together.’

It wasn’t the first time Finn had mentioned destiny.

Faye had never known what he meant exactly.

Was he talking about the prophecy, that she would somehow, in the future, rule the Crystal Castle that supposedly sat at the centre of the four elemental kingdoms?

Or that she and Finn belonged together, entwined in their dark lust? Or something else?

He paused. ‘You liked the jewel I gave you, I trust?’ He approached her slowly, still prowling, still guarded.

Befuddled, she nodded, looking at the ring on her thumb. Had it brought her here, somehow? It had come off when she was with Rav, and as soon as he had unwittingly slid it back on her thumb, she had been transported to Murias.

‘Indeed. See how generous I am, even to my faithless lover?’ His voice was cool and steady, but anger still blazed in his eyes. ‘You should be so much more grateful than you are.’

As she looked down at her hand, a long, many-stranded rose gold, pearl and opal necklace appeared around her neck, spreading out to her shoulders and down, framing her breasts, the lowest opal resting just above her navel.

She realised that she had seen the necklace before: when she had watched Dal Riada play in the pub with Aisha, and been taken into a dream-vision.

Then, in the vision, she had found herself at Black Sands Beach, and she had worn a gauzy white dress, and this necklace.

As she watched herself, bracelets of the same rose gold, made of many interlocking spirals, made elegant cuffs on her wrists and ankles, and a thong made of tiny rose gold chains and silky pearlescent fabric, embroidered with pearls and opals, appeared between her legs.

‘Since you dislike being naked in my presence, let me clothe you in something…appropriately demure.’ He smiled, narrowing his eyes.

She held out her arm and marvelled at the beauty of the design, and as the jewels nestled against her skin, the familiar lassitude of enchantment slipped over her like a robe.

She fought it, though it was like trying to hold back a tide.

She made herself remember her discomfiture at being transported here without warning; worse, being vulnerable like this, at the mercy of a man dressed for battle.

She wondered if he had come straight from the war, or was intending to go to it when she had arrived.

‘You like this.’ He touched the necklace with his finger.

Proprietorial, as if he owned it and her.

It was not a question. You like this. Yet, Faye was ashamed to admit to herself that she did like it.

She loved the beauty of the necklace and the ring he had given her, and she loved the way the necklace felt on her body.

It seemed to kiss and caress her skin, shimmying delicately against her as she moved.

‘Y… yes,’ she stammered.

‘These are not ordinary human trinkets. The jewels you wear are enchanted fae treasures. They give you such power, and yet you choose to ignore it. Waste it, when you could have a life of delight with me.’ He sighed.

‘I never…I never agreed to that,’ she stammered.

The pull and lure of dissolution was almost complete now.

In the back of her mind, Faye was aware that the jewellery acted as a kind of cage: it enabled Finn to control her.

And yet, the seductive power of faerie was so great that she felt powerless to resist it.

‘I give you all of this. I give you access to my kingdom, to my bed, I give you these priceless gifts of power that any mortal would kill for…And yet, you betray me.’ Finn’s voice was sharp and pointed; icy where once it had been honey. ‘When I gave you everything.’

‘I’m sorry, I…’ She hardly knew what she was saying.

Am I really sorry? she wondered at herself for a moment.

She had felt right with Rav. But Abercolme already felt a million miles and a lifetime away from this moment.

No! I’m not sorry! She screamed at herself, but the words were coming out and she couldn’t stop them: she was under Finn’s spell, and said what he wanted her to say.

‘Sorry is not enough!’ Finn screamed suddenly, picking up one of the small crystal bedside tables and flinging it across the room.

‘Sorry is a human word! There are no apologies in faerie. There is love. There is desire. There is service and loyalty to your king. We do not have a single word that makes things right with no effort at all! Sorry is a lie. I do not want your sorrow. I want your love.’

Faye recoiled from his anger. She knew that what he was saying was, in itself, a lie: faeries were by nature deceptive and, by human standards, amoral, but she said nothing. She waited for his anger to pass, her gaze flitting from his face to his clenched fists until they relaxed.

‘Promise that you will never see him again.’ He stood facing her, and traced his fingertip on her cheek. His voice was calm again, and he kissed her cheek softly, as if she had imagined his outburst. Like it had never happened.

Faye looked up into his ocean-tossed eyes.

She knew what had happened, and a part of her felt alarm; there was a warning here, and she knew she should take it.

Finn was dangerous; his temper was explosive.

But the power of Murias was too strong, and Finn, so close to her, was bright as the sun.

Her enchantment was complete; she fell under the waves.

‘I promise,’ she whispered.

‘So be it. I will allow one mistake, Faye. But only one.’ He was gentle now, and Faye wondered if she had imagined his anger. He had been hurt. He was emotional. He loved her. That was the truth. Wasn’t it?

‘The lovers of faerie kings are richly rewarded for their adoration.’ Finn Beatha smiled widely and turned her around so that she could look at herself in the mirror.

‘They’re beautiful,’ she murmured, touching the opals. Finn’s hand closed over hers, and he traced her own hand over her breasts, her waist and her bottom. She leaned back into him, and felt his arousal against her.

‘You are beautiful,’ he breathed into her ear, and Faye sucked in a deep breath, feeling her desire for him wash over her like a tidal wave.

‘Come.’ He held out his hand to her and, at his touch, she felt the seductive, sleepy wave of faerie break over her again, wrapping her in its seawater bliss. ‘The faerie ball awaits.’

‘So you weren’t…aren’t…?’ She indicated his armour. ‘You look like you’re ready for battle.’

‘The battle is over, for now,’ he replied curtly. ‘No talk of war now, sidhe-leth . Listen to the music. Don’t you care to dance?’

‘Like this?’ Faye hugged her arms around herself, vulnerable. It was one thing to be dressed like this, here with Finn, but quite another for the whole of Murias to see her dressed only in the intricate rose gold chains. ‘I…can’t I get dressed? For a ball?’

He smiled and kissed her. ‘You are the king’s lover.

In the faerie kingdom of Murias, sidhe-leth , I am all-powerful.

And you…’ He kissed her neck, watching her in the mirror, ‘You are the object of my desire. And I desire them to see you as I do. More beautiful than the stars on the night sea. You may wear whatever you please. What do you want?’ He caressed her naked breasts softly.

‘Something magical,’ she replied, and a sudden delight in her own body bloomed like a dark blood-red rose.

She remembered the sensation of being watched as she had made love with Rav on the beach, the intoxication of eyes being on her as she claimed her pleasure.

‘I want them to see me. Want me as you do.’

He clicked his fingers softly, and Faye felt the softest kiss of silk caress her skin.

‘Then you shall have it,’ he murmured.