Page 9

I’m out of wine again, so I slide the bottle over and pour myself another cup. It’s odd, sometimes, hearing legends about distant royal ancestors. Their bloodline will die out, since my sister and I can have no children.

Melancholy cloaks me like a shroud before I shake it away. “King Mallex was an idiot. Aetherlin would have been a powerful queen and ally, since she had the magic to summon the Thornwood overnight.”

Lark rests her head back against her chair. “God, and to think I could have inherited her power.”

I grunt. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

My sister scoffs at me. “You’re just jealous. You’re the twin without magic.”

“I don’t need magic.”

“True. You have a different fate.”

“Since when can you see into the future?”

“Rook.” Lark looks me dead in the eye. “You can’t deny that you are the Gray Prince. You will sit on the ruined throne and take back the kingdom.”

I glower into my wine. This has been a well-worn argument between the two of us. “I don’t believe in prophecies.”

“You’re the rightful heir to the throne.”

“I don’t need the deadweight of a crown on my head. Our father had no heir, only the two of us bastards.”

“And you believe Queen Dulcamara should rule?”

My eyebrows descend. “No.”

“You can’t keep running away from your destiny.”

“Fuck destiny. I don’t have time for that.”

Lark knocks back her wine. “Because you’re so busy hunting monsters? You caught one. She’s your mate.” She smirks at her own joke, though I find it less amusing. “Are you going to drag her around the kingdom with you?”

“I’m not dragging her anywhere.”

“I would rather drag him back to my cave,” Pyrah confesses.

That’s my chance to escape. “Right. Your cave. We should go.” I push my chair from the table, ready to leave.

But the wine makes me clumsy. I grip the edge of the table as the room spins counterclockwise for a second. Fuck. I may have been overambitious.

Lark shakes her head. “You can’t hide in a cave forever. I’m sorry, Pyrah, but your mate should be our king.”

“Am I in the prophecy?” Pyrah asks.

“There’s nothing about a red dragon. ‘The Gray Prince will sit on the ruined throne.’ That’s it, that’s the whole prophecy.”

I scowl at my sister. “Haven’t I already fulfilled the prophecy? I’ve been to Hexfall. I’ve sat upon the throne at least twice.”

Lark stares into the fire. “If only it were that easy to satisfy destiny.”

“The Gray Prince.” Pyrah ogles me when she says it. “You would look good in a crown.” She’s slurring her words, just enough for me to notice it.

“Woman, you’re drunk.”

“Me?” She giggles. “No.”

“You giggled. You never giggle.”

When she tries to stand, she stumbles against me and nearly knocks both of us over. I brace her with my arm around her waist.

“You were right,” Pyrah says. “That’s enough demon wine for me. Damn, it's powerful.”

“I warned you.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I’m too drunk to fly back.”

Lark studies her with fascination. “What happens if you shift first? Wouldn’t that be less wine in a bigger body?” She spreads out her arms to demonstrate size.

Pyrah’s eyes flash gold. “Let’s find out.”

I catch her by the waist before she can escape. “Woman, that sounds like a very bad idea.”

Pyrah leans against me, her hands traveling over my chest. “You aren’t going to walk all the way home, are you?” For some strange reason, she’s purring the words as if attempting to seduce me with them.

Lark sputters, laughing while drinking. “Rook looks so confused . Like he can’t think with you so close.”

“I’m not,” I say gruffly.

“Not thinking?”

“Not confused.”

But Lark laughs even harder, and Pyrah joins in, until it brings tears to their eyes and they gasp for breath. I had no idea I was so hilarious.

Pyrah clings to me to remain upright. She's helpless with giggles. “Stop,” she protests. “I can’t take any more. I’m dying.”

I stare down at her, not sure what to do with her. “It’s not my intention to amuse you.”

They both surrender to mirth again. I finish the wine myself, drinking it straight from the bottle. They don’t need any more, but I might.

Finally, the women stop laughing, breathless.

“Stay here.” Lark wipes the tears of laughter from her eyes. “You can sleep on the floor.”

I nod. Finally, a sensible idea. “One night away from the cave won’t hurt.”

Lark tosses blankets and pillows on the floor. Pyrah crawls over and curls up like a dragon sleeping on gold. She yawns and burrows deeper under a blanket.

I stand with my hands on my hips. “When I’m back, there had better be room for me.”

“Back?” Pyrah mumbles. “Where are you going?”

“To take a piss.”

“Good idea.” Groaning, she sits upright. “Take me with you. My bladder will thank me.”

“Don’t get lost,” Lark warns.

I snort. “We won’t.”

Pyrah leans against me while we wander outside. Enchanted mist cloaks the cottage and hides the world around us. Fuck, no wonder Lark told us not to get lost.

“There’s a privy by the river,” I say, my speech careful enough to disguise just how drunk I am. “Somewhere deeper in the mist.”

“What’s wrong with pissing in the woods?”

I shrug. “It’s a nice privy. Magic and all that.”

“Where?” She squints. “I can’t see a fucking thing.”

We wander through the mist together, until it thins and we discover ourselves deeper in the woods. We’re nowhere near the river, and the sound of rushing water in the distance sounds muffled. Which way should we go from here?

Pyrah hitches up her skirts and ducks behind a fern. Perhaps she couldn’t wait any longer. I unbutton my fly and piss against a stump. Steam rises in the cold. With my head tilted back, I stare at the stars glittering in the sky. Pretty.

A dark shadow blots out the stars before flying onward and vanishing.

My heartbeat pounds in my ribs. Either I’m drunk enough to be imagining things, or that’s a dragon on the prowl.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Pyrah asks.

“That shadow in the sky.”

She comes back to me. “What shadow?”

“Looked like a dragon.”

We both stare at the sky together. Nothing, just the stars glittering high above. Though it’s impossible to deny that Scaldric could be stalking Pyrah even now. That fucker still believes he can fly over this kingdom without consequences. He still believes she belongs to him.

Possessive instinct roars through me.

We should return to the safety of the mist, but blood rushes to my cock. I want to fuck her in the wilderness. I want to lay claim to her body where the whole world can see us.

I stroke myself in my fist and wait for her to catch me jerking myself off. When she does, her eyes fly open wide with shock. Her breath escapes as a puff of white in the cold air.

I speak calmly enough, but I can’t keep the growl from my voice. “It could be a dragon. It could be anyone. But I don’t fucking care.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“You belong to me. Your pleasure belongs to me.”

Her chest flutters as her breathing turns shallow. “Here?”

“Everywhere and anywhere.” I run my tongue along my fangs, testing their sharpness, and my fist moves faster over my cock. “I want to fuck you where everyone can see you come.”

“I dare you.”

I pin her against a tree and hitch her skirts around her waist. She’s not wearing anything under her dress. In the moonlight, her cunt looks divine.

I groan. “Wicked girl.”

I hold my cock in my fist and stop just shy of penetrating her. She’s already wet. Slippery. Her body is ready for more, but I need to hear her say it, especially after drinking so much wine.

“You want me to fuck you?” I ask, not even trying to be subtle.

Her breath escapes her in a shaky exhalation. “Yes.”

That’s the consent I needed. My shadow wings unfold from my shoulder blades. My cock thickens in my hand, armored by the ridges and spikes of an incubus. I’m unable to deny my fully demonic form.

I bend down and capture her mouth in mine. I kiss her, a devouring kiss, just enough to taste what she’s feeling. When my cock enters her body, her pleasure intensifies. It’s sweeter than nectar, richer than cream. Ambrosia. I can’t get enough of her.

More .

My hips surge forward, my cock sliding all the way home. Pain tinges her pleasure. The taste of her desire turns bittersweet. I freeze, our bodies pressed together, her heart beating so hard I can feel it beneath my chest. I don't want to hurt her with the spikes on my cock—or the size of it.

“Don't stop,” she demands. She hooks her legs behind my ass and lets me hold her off the ground.

“Easy,” I murmur. “Breathe.”

“I need you to fuck me.”

“When I kissed you, I could taste a hint of your pain.”

Her cheeks turn pink. “I didn't know you could.” She looks into my eyes. “What do I taste like?”

“Bittersweet, but only because I hurt you. I'm sorry.”

She kisses me again, her body melting against mine, until I can taste nothing but pure pleasure. She's so good at taking my cock.

“What do I taste like now?”

“Ambrosia,” I confess. “The nectar of the gods.”

She laughs, breathless. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Do you trust me?” My voice turns velvety. “I don’t want to be gentle with you. I want to fuck you until you scream with bliss.”

She shivers, goose bumps on her arms. “I trust you.”

I hammer into her without mercy. Rough. Ruthless. Her breasts bounce from the force of my thrusts. When I kiss her again, I’m surprised by her desire. She’s already so close to the breaking point, the tension in her body barreling toward a climax.

My balls tense. I’m gripped by a primal urge to fill her up until she’s dripping with my seed.

“Fuck.” The word tears from my throat as a groan.

I’m too far gone.

I can’t stop my own orgasm from obliterating all thought. Grunting, shaking, I come deep inside her. My cock throbs hard with every pulse of my seed. Even my legs tremble from the strength of my climax.

She touches herself between her legs. She’s filled to overflowing, my seed trickling down her thighs. She rubs herself, desperate for release. Her eyes close and her mouth turns into a circle of anguished ecstasy.

“Louder,” I command. “Let me hear you come.”

With her spine arched, she flings back her head. She screams out as she climaxes. The sound echoes in the forest before I devour her with my kiss. Her pleasure flows down my throat.

Mine .

Every last drop.