Page 15 of Fey Dominion (Fey Lords #2)

Chapter fifteen

“ C an you ride?” asks Mabon. “Horses, I mean.”

I turn away from admiring the freshly fallen snow through the window, and face him. My hand has paused half-way to my mouth with yet another delicious blood red grape. I’m going to ignore his crude innuendo and address the other problem with his question.

“I’m a Londoner,” I say.

He stares at me blankly. As if being a Londoner means nothing.

I sigh. “City boy, born and bred.”

A small frown mars his perfect features. Then he smiles. “Oh! You can ride pillion!”

It’s my turn to stare blankly. He sees my look and shakes his head in exasperation.

“You can sit behind me in the saddle,” he explains.

I’m not sure I like the sound of this.

“Why?” I ask.

Mabon claps his hands together in glee. His bracelets jangle and his purple eyes sparkle. “The Wild Hunt is riding!”

Now I know for sure that I don’t like the sound of this. I pop my nearly forgotten grape into my mouth and try not to let dread completely consume me.

“You are taking me hunting?”

“Yes!” Mabon says excitedly.

I groan in dismay. “Where?”

He waves his hand at the window. “In that large park out there.”

“Hyde Park?” I nearly stutter in incredulity.

He gives a half shrug, half head shake gesture. It’s clear he doesn’t care what it is called.

I take a deep breath, but it does nothing to fortify me. “What are you hunting?”

“Boar,” he says.

And I’m so glad the answer isn’t humans, that I’m not even fazed by the ludicrous idea of hunting boar through Hyde Park. It’s a thousand times better than what my dark imagination was picturing.

“Does this mean I get some clothes?” I ask. This day is getting better and better.

Mabon frowns and then pouts. “No. I want everyone to see your lovely muscles.”

I stare at him, but he isn’t joking. He is deadly serious.

“It’s snowing,” I point out.

He looks at me as if I am insane for pointing out the obvious.

“I’m human,” I try, but still no reaction. “I’ll freeze to death.”

Mabon’s eyebrows rise. For a brief moment, he looks horrified, but it quickly morphs into annoyance. His hands go to his hips and he glares at me as if this is all my fault.

The silence stretches. Long moments tick by. We are just standing here, staring at each other.

“Oh!” he says suddenly. “I’ll place a warming spell on you!”

His fingers click loudly, and a warm sensation buzzes all over me. Tingling along every inch of my skin. I yelp and scurry backwards, patting instinctively at my arms. But it soon becomes clear that I’m not actually about to burst into flames.

I give Mabon a sheepish look, expecting him to mock me for my overreaction, but he is not paying me any attention. He is looking out of the window at the snow.

Is everything all right? Should I ask him if he is okay? He was jubilant a moment ago. Now, all of a sudden, he seems thoughtful and pensive.

Suddenly, he moves. Springing to life as if he never paused. He picks up my leash and strides away. The chain yanks on my collar and I stumble after him.

I guess I’m going hunting.

T hat doesn’t look like a fucking horse. It has pointed teeth for a start. And it’s stupidly tall with spindly legs. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I swear its eyes just glowed red. Its fur, hair, coat, or whatever the hell it’s called, is a shade of black so dark it is doing funny things to my eyes.

Mabon steps towards it and I want to grab his arm, hold him back and protect him. But there are dozens of these creatures all around this stable and I cannot protect him from them all.

Mabon swings up onto the back of the beast with an easy, practised grace. He picks up the silver reins and they jingle with dozens of tiny silver bells.

He looks down at me, and the sight takes my breath away. His dark, curling horns are gleaming. His lilac hair looks like spun silk, and the elaborate weaves and twists are impressive, but I love the gently curling locks that are falling free to his waist. I want to see him with all his stunning hair down. It must look incredible.

His long flowing robes are vibrant against the void black beast. His amethyst eyes are gleaming. The expression on his beautiful face is regal and commanding.

He looks magnificent.

Ethereal, otherworldly and dangerous.

All the things he is.

And he is also my lover.

It feels strange to even think that. So I won’t be saying it out loud anytime soon. But it is true, despite whatever else is going on. Mabon may think of himself as my owner, and I his pet. From my perspective, I’m merely biding time and gathering information until I can escape. I’m undercover and sleeping with the enemy.

Regardless of those conflicting points of view, and whatever the truth may actually be, we are sharing a bed. And finding joy in each other’s bodies. Those are undeniable facts.

Mabon is my lover.

He smiles slightly, as if discerning my thoughts. He holds a hand out to me. I gulp, take it and concentrate hard on getting onto the back of this monster without embarrassing myself.

I swing up behind Mabon and settle in. A rush of euphoria, pride, and relief washes over me. I did it. Without looking like a complete idiot.

The saddle is a tight fit, and the curve of his ass is pressing against my thinly covered cock. His whole body is flush against mine. Warm and familiar. Smelling heavenly.

Oh lord. This is going to be interesting.

Mabon makes a clicking noise, and the beast steps forward. I yelp, close my eyes, and wrap my arms around Mabon’s waist. He giggles and snuggles back against me with a happy sigh. His hair is tickling my nose, but I’m not releasing my grip to do anything about it.

When I next open my eyes, we are in the midst of a stately procession. All tinkling bells, hooves on snow and the occasional snort of a beast.

Hyde Park looks beautiful. And deserted. I don’t blame humans for seeing this and fleeing. It is the sensible thing to do. It’s probably what I would have done. Yet here I am in the midst of a fey hunt. Pretty much butt naked, riding behind a prince.

But at least Mabon’s spell is working and I’m not at all cold. Thank heavens for small mercies. However, this rolling gait of the beast is making me slide up and down against Mabon in a way that is going to get really bad, really soon.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness!” calls a voice from my right.

The fey is riding an enormous white stag. The man is nearly as pale as his beast. His hair is golden. His eyes cruel and topaz bright.

“Good afternoon, Lord Gwydion,” Mabon says cheerfully.

“Please leave some boar for the rest of us,” says Gwydion.

His voice slithers all over me and makes me shiver. If he thinks he is being charming, he is a long way off the mark.

“I’ll try,” Mabon says sweetly. “Is Duke Carian not joining us today?”

“No, he is spending the day in bed with a rhocyn. A feat that is hard to achieve since Prince Rhydian’s consort changed our laws.”

Mabon stiffens against me. I don’t see it, but I feel it.

Gwydion blathers on. “It’s a shame rhocyn are not permitted to hunt, since they are rather good at riding.” He finishes with a titter.

“You are so witty, my lord,” says Mabon.

He really is not. But the asshat smiles as if he truly believes Mabon’s false statement. They whitter on and I tune it out because otherwise I’m going to get all sorts of enraged.

As we ride along, my mind slowly catches up. This turdbag was being disparaging about rhocyn. I still haven’t figured out what the hell a rhocyn is, but I know Mabon’s brother is one. And Mabon told Osian that he didn’t care that he was now a rhocyn.

Yet, here he is, fake laughing at this guy’s shitty comments and not using his princely status to correct the guy. That’s got to be like going along with racism.

I take a deep breath. I’m being a hothead. Mabon took the time to explain to me about his power not being absolute. If he has to ignore terrible things happening, I guess listening to bullshit and not challenging it, is part of the deal.

That has to suck.

I hold back my snort just before it escapes. Yeah, poor Mabon. Being a prince and living in luxury and keeping people as pets simply because you want to. Even if it is not all roses, it is not exactly a hard life.

A long, low sound reverberates around the snowy landscape. It takes me a few heartbeats to realise it is a horn. It’s eerie and unsettling.

It’s a cue for something, because Gwydion and Mabon both urge their mounts to pick up speed. I close my eyes. I’m a long way from the ground and this is terrifying. But the feel of Mabon fitting so closely against me and gently sliding up and down is nice. Too nice.

Mabon giggles quietly. “Hello Mister Dinkey.”

I bite back my groan of dismay. I’m not giving Mabon anymore satisfaction. But the problem is soon solved when we pick up even more speed and start twisting and turning. Fear wilts my boner, and all I can do is cling onto Mabon for dear life.

It continues for far too long, and then, just as I’m sure I can’t take it anymore, it stops. We are motionless. It’s silent.

Tentatively, I open my eyes. We are alone with Gwydion in a snowy clearing. There is a large, hairy pig with tusks lying lifeless on the ground. A spear is sticking up from its neck. Crimson blood is seeping out onto the pristine white snow.

I snatch my gaze away. My stomach is rolling.

“Congratulations, Lord Gwydion,” says Mabon.

He sounds perfectly calm, but I swear something is wrong.

Gwydion grins. “Thank you, Your Highness. Would you do me the honour of a favour?”

“It would be my pleasure,” says Mabon.

He reaches into his robes and pulls out a lavender coloured handkerchief. Gwydion moves his stag closer and holds out a deadly looking spear. Mabon drapes his piece of cloth over it and Gwydion raises his spear, sending the silk sliding down the shaft and straight to his hand. He lifts it to his lips, kisses it and tucks it into his robes, next to his chest.

Mabon laughs, seemingly in delight. But I have a very bad feeling about this.

I just hope I’m wrong.