Page 13 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

I’m on it in an instant, knees around its face, thick, throbbing shaft down the back of its throat.

Only this time it’s not Lenore. My shadows reform, growing larger.

Lenore’s delicate frame vanishes. A man’s body takes her place.

The hulking shadow form being face-fucked into oblivion belongs to that no-good, can’t-keep-his-hands-to-himself prince.

Feathers sprout behind my elbows, growing in a trail that leads to the tops of my shoulders.

I want to hurt him . Fangs slide between my lips, transforming my mouth to be more than double its normal size.

I want to maim that pretty, smiling face . Black stains my fingers and wrists as sharpened claws elongate from the tips.

I want to kill him . My cock changes, growing far larger than before. At this width, I could split any human wide fucking open.

I want him to scream and cry as I take his life and steal away the woman he has laid his unworthy eyes upon. I release a castle-shaking screech as my monster takes over completely.

I want to rip his head off and fuck his lifeless skull. My wings flap behind me as my hips piston forward, slamming deeper and deeper.

There’s a crack from below my pelvis. I don’t care. I keep at it, driving myself into the shadowy face, imagining the prince choking, life fleeing his eyes as I own him in every way imaginable, stealing his dignity in the last moments of his life.

More cracking sounds from beneath me. A sharp stinging sensation stabs at my shaft and thighs. I can’t stop. My hips slam, possessed, as heat crawls up my spine.

“Lenore is mine. Mine. Mine .”

I come, spewing seed into the shadows, emptying myself as I cry out in tortured relief.

My hips keep moving, wings beating wildly, not stopping until I’m twitching and raw.

My chest is heaving, crown barely hanging on my monster’s dark-haired head.

Sitting back on my taloned, bird-like feet, I allow myself a few moments to breathe deeply.

My armor is shredded on the glassy green floor. The transformation took me by surprise. My beast feeds on rage, fear, anguish. This time it was my own.

The shadows vanish. Where the skeleton’s skull once sat, now only remains a pile of crushed off-white bone fragments and a pool of my dark, sticky cum.

The bones belong to some long-forgotten soul, not the prince I was picturing, but admiring the carnage gives me a small amount of satisfaction.

I wouldn’t treat Lenore that way. I’d make her sweat, shake, beg, come.

I’d be gentle if she wanted. I’d hurt her if she asked me to.

I’d lick every inch of her and put my cock in every space she’d allow.

But I wouldn’t degrade her the way I would the prince.

My sigh reflects my inner conflict. There’s always a price for taking a life out of turn.

In my experience, it’s never been worth the cost. What will happen if I steal her life before the natural time?

Will a soul be set free from the river to wreak havoc on the gardens?

Will a creature from the in-between drop down into my domain?

Or will the dead rise, returning to their human remains?

That would be the end of the land of the living and all those who inhabit it.

There are only four souls who have stepped foot back into the mortal world after their passing.

One, I sent willingly, gifting them temporary power and assigning them an important task.

The other three were taken by force when I reaped souls out of their season.

The first two tarnished escapees left me riddled with guilt.

One took with him a plague that destroyed all the crops in the region where he once lived, leaving entire communities to starve.

The other manipulated the masses. He spread lies and fear, inciting a witch hunt that sent thousands of innocent women to my domain before their time.

I was able to relocate those two to the in-between, but at a great personal expense.

The scars that run along either side of my lower back burn with the reminder.

A wing was taken for each. The days when I had four wings, beautiful and strong, have long since passed.

The two that remain carry me well enough.

I still feel that empty aching place, the misbalance of weight, every minute of every day. A part of me, lost forever.

The third soul to leave my domain as punishment for my actions still wanders above, stealing children from the mortal world and committing all manner of atrocities on his star-hidden island.

He remains just out of my reach, taking up the guise of a child himself.

Never growing up. It will be up to the fourth—the only soul I’ve ever given permission to return to the world above—to deliver him to me.

The power I gifted her will help in her task.

Even with some of my abilities, she has her work cut out for her.

And if I reap out of turn again? What will I have to give? To make Lenore mine, will I lose my ability to fly completely? Will I sacrifice the lives of millions to some famine or plague? Will I let the mortal world burn in exchange for her hand, her soul, her body on my throne?

Something resembling fear scratches up my throat. There’s an inkling, a distant buzzing in my skull that’s whispering her name. A part of me that would sacrifice all of those things and more for my little raven.