Page 20 of Faeling (Monstrous World #4)
It was a long, long time before anyone returned to the king’s quarters. In fact, it was nearly sunset by the time Vallek returned, with Eydis in tow.
At the sound of someone entering, Ravenna jumped up from where she’d been lazing about on one of the plush sofas in the den, halfheartedly embroidering between intermittent naps. She hurried to the threshold but stopped just before they came into view, not wanting to appear too eager.
Breezing confidently through the archway, Ravenna came to stand in the middle of the central hall to meet the siblings. Vallek’s gaze immediately found her, and although he nodded in acknowledgement, his attitude was markedly cooler than that of yesterday.
Ravenna turned her attention instead to Eydis, watching the orcess closely as Vallek shrugged out of his robe and began to pull the caps from his ears and tusks.
Eydis nodded politely at her, too, although she wouldn’t keep her gaze.
Something had happened.
Looking between the both of them, Ravenna’s suspicions only grew. Their shoulders were too tense, their gazes too flighty.
“I assume the city isn’t under attack,” she said. The great horns of the citadel would have sounded across Balmirra if that were the case, of course, but she wanted to get them talking.
After a whole day by herself—she’d long ago released Brynhíl from having to babysit her—she was anxious to hear the news.
Were she free to don her disguise and move about the citadel as a human soothsayer, she could’ve easily found out everything in the servants’ dining hall.
All the best information was to be had there.
Instead, she’d been cloistered in his quarters with nothing better to do than embroider and plot.
For an hour she considered turning all of his socks, trou, and undershirts inside out, but that would likely only create more work for Brynhíl.
Then she considered setting fire to his regalia, but there again, that would only annoy him and create work for someone else.
Hanging her head out of one of the windows had confirmed what a sheer drop it was to the citadel courtyard below. If she tied all of his fine bedding together, it might be long enough to get her down—right to the center of the courtyard with dozens of guards waiting to nab her again.
If she could fly down, she would. However, her little wings had always been too small and weak to sustain true flight.
On a particularly strong updraft, she might be able to glide, but as far as getting four stories down, her wings would only slow her fall enough so that she’d perhaps break an ankle rather than a leg.
A whole day with nothing to show for it—except wild schemes and growing anxieties without a clear release. Oberon was no help. Although he assured her the herd would attack Balmirra’s gates to free her if she wished, he thought it much wiser for her to give in and claim her azai .
Fucking over fighting? Other unicorns would be scandalized to hear it.
No they wouldn’t, he scoffed. Then, after a pause, And you won’t tell them.
It was difficult to reach Callistix from such a distance. Although her grandmare likely would have been happy to slash and skewer orcs on her horn, there were foals now in the herd to consider.
For now, Ravenna was on her own. And that meant she needed information. Starting with whatever had happened today that made these two orcs unwilling to look her in the eye.
“The city is secure,” Eydis confirmed, but she wouldn’t say more, her gaze shifting back nervously to Vallek.
Stripped down to just his trou, Vallek stepped forward. “You and I have much to discuss.”
Well, that sounded ominous.
Perhaps she should have delighted in his careful tone. Maybe he’d reconsidered or was willing to see reason. Still, she couldn’t help the stone of dread weighing down her stomach as he gazed gravely down at her.
To Eydis he said, “Thank you for your counsel today. Please have dinner sent up, and my regards to Hilde.”
His sister nodded and looked more than a little relieved to beat a hasty retreat. Ravenna watched her go with a frown, which she turned on her suddenly taciturn azai as the door clicked closed behind Eydis.
Vallek raised his arm to usher her into the more comfortable den, but Ravenna stood her ground. She suspected she’d need to meet his news standing.
“What news?” she asked, wanting to get this over with.
He searched her stern face a moment longer before admitting, “Hrothgar of Innrinhom has come with his daughters and niece. He offers peace if I were to take one as my bride and queen.”
None of that should have been surprising—Ravenna was aware of the political game Vallek played throughout his new, fragile kingdom, as well as his desire to seek unification without violence. A marriage of alliance was certainly a tidy solution.
Still, the stark truth of it, that such a reality had come knocking that very day, sank like stones in her gut.
He’s been mine a day and already some orcesses are trying to steal him away? The thought sprang up from some primal part of her she’d denied these past years, and its vehemence unnerved her almost as much as knowing he stood on the precipice of taking a wife—who wasn’t her, his mate.
“I see,” she said through numb lips. She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
His thick brows descended into a forbidding frown. “I see?” he repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”
Ravenna could only shrug, meeting his frown with her own to hide how her eyes stung. “What else can I say? It’s been made abundantly clear that my opinion isn’t of any value.”
His nostrils flared in an exasperated huff. “I’ve said nothing of the sort. You put words in my mouth.”
She bit her lips together to keep from spitting something insulting at him. An angry fire ignited in her chest, and it was all she could do to keep from storming away.
“How else am I to feel when I’m kept prisoner here?”
Vallek sighed long and with feeling. “You are not a prisoner. This is only temporary.”
Ravenna bared her fangs in a harsh smile. “Until you take a wife, you mean? Which orcess will you choose?”
“It isn’t so simple,” he growled.
“It was two days ago.”
“Indeed it was,” he spat, “but two days ago, I didn’t know my own mate hid herself right under my nose.” Closing the distance between them, he loomed over her as he demanded, “Why hide yourself from me? We could’ve had three years to sort this out.”
“I didn’t mean to be so inconvenient to your political timetable. I meant to stay entirely out of the way. You have decided I must be an obstacle to overcome.”
“You’re not—” He shoved his hands through his mane in a gesture of utter frustration. “You put words in my mouth again.”
“I am an inconvenience,” she insisted. “We both know it. You hoped to marry one of these orcesses, even to find your mate amongst them. It would’ve been so simple, so easy. And now…”
His expression turned desolate, and Ravenna’s stomach flipped to realize just how true her accusation was. Being right about it didn’t feel good. It was awful, in fact.
“The beast decides the mate. All orcs know and respect this,” he said.
“None of that will win you an alliance with Hrothgar.”
Vallek didn’t immediately respond, his gaze turning pensive as he searched her face.
One of his large hands rose to gently touch her cheek with his fingertips, sparking flutters of pleasure in her chest. Even now, amidst an argument, his touch so easily pleased and aroused her.
That was perhaps the most frustrating thing of all.
“Why did you hide from me?” he asked, tone gone low and serious.
There were so many answers to that. None of which she wanted to tell him. So she didn’t. Ravenna stood there silently, biting down on the inside of her cheek.
When he realized she didn’t mean to answer, his expression hardened, his eyes going flinty. Although his fingers were warm at her cheek, his touch nevertheless turned cold.
“What will I do?” he asked as his thumb stroked her cheek. “I will find a way to keep a wife and a mate, I suppose. Kings are supposed to be selfish, are they not?”
Ravenna’s insides curdled, and she moved her head away from his touch. “Don’t be cruel.”
“I’m being practical, as any king should be.
You as my mate will satisfy my beast. Hrothgar’s daughter will fulfill the unification.
” He said it so flippantly, as if it made so much sense, that she knew he meant to rile her.
She’d hurt him with her nonanswer, and now he sought to hurt her in return.
It worked.
Not only did her eyes sting, but pressure gathered between them. She hated the tears that threatened, almost as much as she hated that sardonic expression he wore.
“That wouldn’t be fair. To your mate or your wife.” It made her sick to even think about.
“The gods aren’t fair, and neither are politics.” He laid his hand on her shoulder, and it was big enough to span both her shoulder and up the side of her neck. He kept her still as he leaned down into her space to say, “I will have my unification, skala . But I won’t give you up.”
Ravenna sneered in his face. “Do you expect a wife in your bed and a mate at your feet?”
He chuckled humorlessly. “I’d much rather have you both in my bed.”
Without thought or care, her palm cracked across his face in a vicious slap. “How dare you? ” she growled, that jealous, feral part of her roaring in her ears.
“I will dare,” he growled right back, “because you’re mine .”
Her magic snapped around his wrists, holding him in place as she rose onto her toes to grab his chin in her claws. “Fae do not share azai, and I will not share you.”
“Then claim me,” he dared her, “don’t hide away.”
She didn’t know if he leaned down or she pushed up, but in the next moment their mouths crashed together in a fiery, angry kiss. His tusks pressed into her cheeks as his lips hungrily moved against hers. She met every nip, every pass of his tongue, twining hers with his as he plundered her mouth.
When he bent to pick her up, she jumped into his waiting arms, coiling her limbs around him. Mine. You’re mine. Digging her nails into his glorious mane, she held on as he surged forward, taking them somewhere—she didn’t care.
All she felt and saw and tasted was him . She drank him down in great greedy gulps and went back for more, body aching to be closer to him even though she was wrapped around him. It still wasn’t close enough, how would she ever be close enough, and her body and soul and magic cried out for more.
Her back hit the soft give of his bed, and then he was above her, claiming her mouth again as his hands delved through the voluminous fabric of her linen robe.
She scored him with her fangs, urging him faster, closer, her hands almost frantic as they mapped every inch of his glorious chest. Nails scraping down his pectoral, she caught his flat, dark green nipple between two fingers and pinched.
A hiss puffed against her lips, and the purr in his chest ratcheted higher, nearly shaking them both in its violence.
Ravenna gasped when his scorching palm found the bare skin of her thigh. There was no teasing or hesitation, it ran up her flank to trace her hipbone before pushing between her legs. She let them fall open, murmuring enthusiastic nonsense against his tusks as his fingers skated through her slick.
He ran two fingers up the seam of her cunt, finding her clitoris with the aim of a skilled hunter. He caught it beneath his calloused thumb, beginning a merciless rhythm of circles that had her seeing starbursts.
Digging her nails into his shoulders, Ravenna’s hips began to buck.
“So slick for me,” he rumbled, his voice the one she so loved, the one of intimate evenings and sweet wine and soft fire glow. “You need this.”
Ravenna could only moan, clutching at him as he hurtled her toward oblivion.
Her magic pooled around them, a warm ethereal caress. She felt how he shuddered as it ran gentle touches along his back. She claimed his front with her hands and lips, tasting the salt of his skin on her tongue as he nuzzled the crown of her head.
Pleasure so sudden and overwhelming it was nearly painful punched through her when he slid one long finger inside her. She wept and gushed for him, soaking his hand, and he purred in encouragement, easing deeper and deeper inside.
“You’re tight,” he breathed against her cheek. “So tight. But with a little practice, you’ll take my cock, won’t you?”
Ravenna could only thrash her head back and forth on the bed as he found a spot inside her that made every muscle in her abdomen contract.
“You will,” he insisted, “you were made to take me. My hellion. My mate. You’re mine.”
His words kept time with his incessant pace, his finger sliding in and out of her cunt to wet her thighs as his thumb drove her mad. He nuzzled her temple and neck as she panted and wordlessly begged for more.
“Tell me. Tell me you’re mine.”
“Yes!” she howled. “Yes yesyesyes!”
Ravenna burst. Everything she was and knew came apart at the seams, unravelling her. He overwhelmed her, his fingers, his big body, his words all conspired to push her past limits. She was lost to him and the orgasm he claimed, body frozen in a rictus of pleasure so acute, she forgot to breathe.
She throbbed, her cunt clutching him tighter even than her hands in his mane. He coaxed wave upon wave, unrelenting, until spots danced around the edges of her vision. His purr buzzed against her chest, teasing her sensitive nipples, prolonging—
—unicorns screaming—salt burned her tongue—the smell of iron and blood—water in her nose—you’re mad, you know—maman—
—the pleasure until she just couldn’t bear it.
Ravenna gasped, senses failing her. She saw and heard and smelled nothing but him—he was all she knew as her orgasm and vision bled into one. Pleasure mixed with a hurt so deep, it seared her soul.
When both released her, she slumped to the bed in relief.
The world around her swam as the sweat cooled on her skin.
For a singular moment, Ravenna lay still. For a moment, she lay in the arms of her azai, safe and satisfied.
Then, one by one, her realities came back to her.
She gasped again, this time in horror. What have I done?
Sitting up, she pushed his hand away, wincing at how her own slick gushed down her legs. Worse was how she ached for him, immediately bereft without his touch. Still she retreated, flinging herself from the bed.
“Ravenna!” he called after her.
But she didn’t stop. Only drew her arms around herself, her linen robe loose about her shoulders.
She stopped only when she made it to the den, to the chair she’d placed by the window. Into it she climbed, drawing her knees up to her chest.
What have I done? What have I done?