Page 7

The trail wound around and around the steep incline leading up to the king’s castle. Though it widened out a bit in the curves, it was still so narrow that I could look over the edge in most places right down into the snow-covered valley below. I supposed it was to help keep out any armies who might think to attack the castle, though I couldn’t imagine who might be brave enough for that. The trail looked as if it were seldom traveled, though certainly, that couldn’t have been the case. Perhaps it was only enchanted to look so dangerous.

I was still puzzling over what the prince kept calling me. It sounded like a-coosh-la , and I had no idea what that might mean. I decided I was going to ask him as soon as I got a chance, because he’d used the term several times. The stag we were riding had no difficulty at all reaching the top, and he went right into the huge courtyard and up to the palace steps, where a guard came out to take the reins from the prince as he jumped down from the stag’s back. I looked up at the imposing building in front of me and shuddered a little. It had tall crenelated walls with parapets forming part of the defensive boundaries and fanciful gargoyles peering menacingly down at visitors below. The towers had pointed roofs and were topped with those red and black banners flying in the wind. And all of it I could see was crusted with ice and snow. It was truly like an ice castle.

Bracca reached up for me and I slid down into his arms. The rest of our party rode toward what I assumed were the stables nearby. Bracca took my elbow, and we went up the steps, inside the main hall and into the belly of the beast.

The difference between mortals and the Fae had never seemed so vast to me before, as we walked inside the dimly lit palace. It wasn’t just the Fairies’ intricate rules and reasoning that were totally foreign to me, but even the way they lived. Take this palace for example. Maybe the inhabitants of this northern country were just used to the cold, or didn’t feel it as much, but it was freezing in there to me. It seemed to me to be almost as cold inside these halls as it was outside. There were carpets and tapestries hanging on the walls, but I was still shivering hard. Bracca glanced over at me and shook his head.

“I’m going to have to line your clothing with fur, aren’t I?” He said with a sigh as he shrugged off his own coat to wrap it around me. Of course, it was much too large, but I took it gratefully anyway. It was warm from his body and still retained some of his scent, which was enticing. And though I had to hold up the hem of the coat to keep from tripping over it, it was well worth it. We went down one corridor after another until we finally reached a set of tall double doors guarded by two soldiers who looked at me with interest and curiosity. They rushed to hold the doors open and Bracca swept in, holding tightly to my arm.

It wasn’t any kind of throne room, like I thought it must be at first, but a well-appointed bed chamber. It was much warmer than the drafty corridor and the room was dominated by a huge bed that had bed curtains tightly drawn around it. In a huge chair by the fireplace beyond the bed, reading from a sheaf of papers, sat a man I thought must be the monarch, King Larek himself.

I noticed his size right away, which was similar to his son’s, though that ended the similarity. Larek was blond while Bracca’s hair was richly black. He was a handsome man who looked to be around fifty, though according to rumor, he was actually quite a bit older. His eyes were a pale green, and they looked up at us keenly as we came in the room.

“You have the boy, then,” he said without preamble and without a greeting. He looked at me closely. “He looks as if he has Fae blood.”

“I noticed that too. He claims he hasn’t, but no one ever told him, perhaps.”

“I’m standing right here,” I said. A warning was good, lest I heard something unpleasant about myself, though I doubted this man would ever care about my feelings. As if to prove it, the king glanced at me and then turned right back to his son as if I hadn’t spoken at all.

“He has the look of something other than an Elf, though. Taller. And his ears aren’t pointed.”

Bracca looked down at me and shrugged. “Yes, I noticed that.”

From the bed I heard a female-sounding groan followed by a muffled curse. Bracca grinned and took my arm again. He began to pull me toward the door. “We’re interrupting, I think. Or perhaps keeping someone awake. Your companion sounds as if she’s ready for us to go, and we need to get some food and rest anyway. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Be sure to come back and speak to me later. I want to hear about your journey.”

Bracca gave him a short bow. “Of course.”

The king waved a hand at him, and off we went, back out into the drafty hallway. “I’ll take you to my room, now that we’ve spoken to him and get the servants to bring you hot water to bathe.”

“Wait—who was that in your father’s bed? Was it your mother?”

He looked down at me oddly. “You’re a curious little thing.”

“I’m not particularly little for a human, you know. And I was just wondering.”

He shook his head. “Then wonder less. Not everything is your business. My mother left my father many years ago and lives now on the Isle of Avalon. The person in his bed was one of his companions. I couldn’t tell which one. His companions are both male and female, depending on his mood.”

“Oh,” I replied, feeling a little shocked, though my own father had quite a history with other women too. The thought of my father caused me to feel a pain in my chest, and I rubbed it unconsciously. Bracca noticed, like he seemed to notice everything I did, and I was shocked when he took my hand.

“You’re thinking about Sir John, but you need to stop.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

He didn’t answer my question but kept on talking like I hadn’t said anything. “Sir John is a worthless man, and abusive to you. I can kill him for you, if you like.”

“What? No, please don’t do that. I-I suppose he’s not a good person, really, but I don’t want him dead.”

“Hm. We’ll see. I don’t like him hitting you.”

He was taking me up the stairs as we were talking, and I had to run to keep up with his longer legs. We came to a big door at the top. “Wait, please, Bracca. We need to talk about this.”

He ignored me, flung open the doors, and we went inside to a bedroom that I assumed must have been his. He snapped his fingers at the marble fireplace and a roaring fire caught up, going to work right away against the chill in the room—too fast really, so I knew it must be another enchantment. The room was beautiful, in colors of sky blue and a paler shade of the celestial color, with rich and luxurious fabrics and dark, highly polished furniture.

“We’ll talk about it later. Go to bed and rest, if you like. It will take the servants some time to prepare a bath for you. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

“No, I…please don’t leave me here alone. I can go with you.”

“It’s not possible. I wish to bathe too, but I’ll be joining my men in the communal baths, so I can speak to the captain and brief him on my plans.”

“But I can do that too. No need to bother the servants. I’ve bathed in streams and lakes with my friends before, and I don’t mind.”

“I do. Your body is not for sharing. Is that understood?”

“Yes, but…”

“No buts. I have to speak to my father too, so I’ll be a while. Get some rest. You look tired.”

“I am, a little.”

He nodded and headed for the door. “I’ll have the servants bring you supper.”

Then he was gone, and I was alone in that cavernous room. I sighed and headed over to the bed, finding that the servants had already been in the room in the short time we had been with his father and left warming pans on the sheets and heaped them with even more warm fur blankets. I slipped off my boots and climbed in, thinking I’d just lie there long enough for the room to get a little warmer. At the rate it was going—again, it had to be enchantment—it wouldn’t take long, even as big as the room was.

I sank down onto the feather mattress and had enough time to turn on my side before the exhaustion and worry of the last day or so swept over me and I closed my eyes. I knew nothing more until I heard the door closing softly. It startled me, and I sat up to see a small table set out by the fire. It was laid with plates and silverware and several silver-domed dish covers. The smells were delicious, so I got out of bed, pulling a fur with me and went over to sit down with the blanket around my shoulders. I uncovered a dish and moaned at the sight of a grilled beefsteak with golden brown potatoes, all covered in brown gravy, along with some lovely green vegetables I didn’t recognize. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, and I fell on it right away, like I’d been starving for days. The Fairy food was just that good. There was crusty bread and butter and some lovely red wine, and for dessert, there were two kinds of pie made with goblin fruit—blackberry and apple. Again, they were by far the best I’d ever tasted.

I ate until I couldn’t hold any more and as soon as I sat back in my chair, feeling replete, the door opened and three young Fairy women came in, nodding at me and saying something I didn’t understand. I thought they were saying they were there to clear the trays away, so I nodded and got up to move out of their way.

Instead, within moments, the doors opened again and more servants came in, carrying a tub and buckets of steaming water. They filled the tub with aromatic spices and then they descended on me and soon had me stripped of my clothing. I couldn’t fight them because they were young females, and besides they’d probably have killed me. They looked pretty strong, and they were terribly insistent. In the end, I stopped resisting and let them do as they liked. Soon I was neck deep in the blissfully hot water. The young women rolled up their sleeves and went to work on me, and all I could do was close my eyes and endure. They soaped, scrubbed, and shampooed my hair and body thoroughly. Then they stood me up by the fire and dried me with heated towels. I have to admit I had stopped struggling with them some time before that. They were quick and impersonal as they sat me down and put sweet smelling ointments on my skin and used a razor to shave off a few stray hairs from my chin—which was about all the beard I ever had.

One of the handmaids brought in a beautiful robe, in a rich, green satin with gold-colored buttons and a pair of matching velvet slippers. All of it was lined with fur. They finished with me just as the door opened to admit Prince Bracca, looking elegant in a fresh set of clothing. He looked me over and nodded his approval to the handmaids, and they began clearing the room.

“You look more rested,” he said as he led me to some chairs near the fire.

“I am. And I had a wonderful meal too.”

“Good. After a good night’s sleep, you’ll feel even better. My room is just next door if you need anything.”

His room? Was he abandoning me in this strange place? What if I needed him?

“What? Then whose room is this?”

“It’s yours, of course.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Where did you think you’d be sleeping?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know anything, and no one tells me much. I don’t understand anything that’s going on. Please…tell me why you made the trade for me with Ellien. Was it about revenge? Please tell me.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think. Help me understand.”

He gazed at me a long time and then leaned back in his chair and stared into the fire.

“It was never about petty revenge, a chuisle.” He glanced back at me and sighed. “You’re beautiful, but not so beautiful that I should feel this out of control around you. It makes me angry at myself for losing control, and I say things I really shouldn’t say because…” He shook his head. “You bother me. Confuse me. Infuriate me. Fascinate me.”

He drew me to him with a hand around the back of my neck and crushed his lips to mine, so that my head fell back against the seat. He drew away after a moment and whispered against my lips.

“I think…I think we should go ahead and make love, so I can get this out of my system.”

“Oh, do you?” I cried pushing at his chest. “Out of your system, huh? Well, what if I disagree? What if I don’t want to make love to you?”

He shrugged, looking puzzled. “If that’s your decision, of course. I won’t force you.” He turned to walk away. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

I yelled after him, “No!” as loudly as I could and then I picked up a domed top from one of the silver dishes that the female Fairies had left on a tray on the table. I threw it at him, and it bounced off his back with a thud. His broad, muscular shoulders went up like a cat’s and he turned to look at me with fire in those gorgeous eyes. He glanced down at the dome on the floor.

“Did you just throw that at me?” he asked in an incredulous voice.

“Yes, and I’ll do it again!” I looked around for something else to throw and saw a pewter candlestick on the mantle. I rushed over, grabbed it and pulled back my hand to hurl that at him too, but his body slammed into me, and we fell to the floor. Luckily, he twisted so I landed on him and not the other way around.

He was much bigger and even more determined than I was. I knew that I was being foolish to try to fight him. He disarmed me easily, knocking the candlestick out of my hand. But I wasn’t ready to give up and fought on with determination, trying to wrestle him and put him in a hold that he easily broke free from. I was being ridiculous, because he thwarted my every move.

“Stop all this fighting before you hurt yourself,” he growled at me, but I wouldn’t. I was furious at how he could so easily walk away from me. I knew that was foolish. I’d only just met him after all, if you didn’t count the incident at the bridge, and we barely knew each other. But it was far too much like my father and my brothers had walked away from me. Like my mother had left me too, when I was so small and vulnerable. Even Ellien. He never had been my friend at all. He’d been plotting against me the whole damn time and probably laughing at how stupid I was. And now Bracca, this handsome prince, who had brought me here out of some notion he hadn’t revealed to me yet, but was no doubt something insane—now he was trying to walk away from me too, like I was nothing. Like I was insignificant. Like I was not to be taken seriously. Like my life didn’t fucking matter.

“Stop this!” he shouted again.

No matter how much he denied it, I thought he had brought me here because I’d once dared to ask him—nicely, by God—for his damn spurs. I’d been trying to avoid bloodshed, and he’d thought I was a thief. Maybe he regretted it now and wished he had just killed me like he’d so casually mentioned killing my father. What would someone like him want with me anyway?

Was I feeling sorry for myself? Hell yes, I was, and I didn’t care anymore about hiding it. I didn’t care about anything, and I wanted him to know it.

I turned underneath him and began to seriously fight for my life, kicking and trying to twist free. I could have saved myself the trouble as he quickly subdued me. He trapped my hands over my head to hold me in place, and though I still squirmed and tried to twist away, he straddled me, leaning down and shouting in my face.

“Stop fighting me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? You already have!” I was outraged and fought even harder. He thought of me as a child, and I wasn’t. I was a full-grown man, and I may as well admit that I’d wanted him to stay and make love to me—I had wanted him almost from the first time I’d seen him, when I hadn’t even known who he was. He had held me close under the furs when I’d been so afraid and thought I’d freeze to death, and he’d saved me. He put me on his own stag and held me against him for warmth. I didn’t want to have to persuade him or beg him or cajole him into it. And I didn’t want his charity or his curiosity or his stupid “fascination” either. I’d never ask him to want me again. Never!

“Damn it, boy!” he cried and then he bent over me and to my shock, he sank his teeth into the side of my throat. The pain was bright and excruciating, but it only lasted a moment. His teeth were gone so quickly I barely registered the pain. Then moments later, I felt a languid numbness creeping over me. I screamed when he began sucking and licking at the blood, trickling from the wound. He stopped and looked down at me and then started licking over the wound again, alternating between the licking and the sucking, and I found to my horror that I couldn’t move. I lay still, paralyzed and completely limp as he alternated that with kissing my lips, and a thrill like I’d never known before shot through my body. In seconds, I was hard and aching for him. Or hell, maybe I had been since the moment I’d touched him. It caused me to have an instant erection and shudders shook me relentlessly.

I was so overwrought at this point that I think I blacked out for a moment, and the next thing I remember were warm hands under my shirt caressing my skin and soft kisses all over my face. I was pulled up and crushed against Bracca’s muscular chest. He was no longer biting me but kissing me and cradling me in his arms. I was shivering with reaction, though the numb, boneless feeling was still there.

He picked me up in his arms and carried me over to the bed, pulling back the covers and laying me down. I should have been frightened, but it was difficult when he was whispering wild words in my ear, telling me how beautiful I was and describing what he was going to do to me in great detail. At least that’s what I thought he was saying. I didn’t understand the language with my mind, but still somehow, I knew every word he said . In that exchange of blood and saliva, however brief it had been, had something transferred to me? Something had happened, though it was already fading. I put my arms up around his neck, and he leaned down to mingle his hot breath with mine.

“Make love to me,” I moaned, rutting against him shamelessly, wanting to feel him inside me. I kept trying to reach for his groin, so I could hold him in my hand. “Please,” I begged him, needing him to make love to me, though I hardly even knew what that meant. I’d never done anything with anyone before—nothing more than groping another boy in the dark and taking a few stolen kisses from one of the maids once, just quick brushings of lips. Then inevitably came the shameful turning away toward dark corners, and treating love like it was dirty and forbidden. Like it was a sin and a crime against Nature—which it was, according to the Church.

I’d always known I was more attracted to males than females, though I liked both. I’d also known it was wrong, according to what the priests said. And though we weren’t a religious family, I still knew about sin. My stepmother and my old nurse before her used to always make me say my prayers when I was younger.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as in heaven. Lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil…”

I was very afraid that Dark Fairies might be evil, or had that possibility within them, but I couldn’t seem to stop yearning toward Bracca and touching him all over. I no longer cared if I went to hell—perhaps it would be worth it for one night in his arms. He pushed my hand away as he stripped off my clothing with a muttered curse, as I was no doubt interfering more than helping with anything.

He was running his hands over my body, while still managing to kiss me with real passion. I put my hands over his arms, trying to pull him down on top of me, and I could feel the muscles rippling down those arms. All the while, he was murmuring to me in soft, unintelligible words that were making my whole body weak. His kisses had a drugging effect on me. His lips were warm and full, and I pressed my mouth against them. He ground into it, sighing into my inexperienced attempts at kissing him and caressing my tongue with his gently, while his big hands sweetly, maddeningly massaged the cheeks of my naked ass. I was being ravished and I loved every second of it. I wondered if I might have actually died and gone to heaven. He flipped me over on my stomach and put a hand under me to lift me up.

I stopped struggling to help and gave in, allowing him to arrange me any way he liked. I felt his mouth down there sliding over my entrance again and again, in that most intimate of kisses—didn’t the priests call that the devil’s kiss? It was supposed to be a ritual greeting upon meeting with the Devil. It was also called the shameful kiss, since it involved kissing the anus. According to folklore, it was this kiss that allowed the Devil to seduce others. I was too shocked to move at first and then I began to squirm and try to get away. Not because he was hurting me or I didn’t like it, but because it was too good. The wet heat was making my head spin and the thought of what he was doing to me was making me blush from the toes up. He held me there though and once he slapped my ass to make me be still. It was excruciating. It was the worst and the most exciting, pleasurable thing that had ever happened to me.

He left me for a moment to get something, he said. I could hardly think by then. He came back with oil, kneeling over me and applying it liberally to my most private parts. I groaned and strained away but he patiently pulled me back.

“I have to get you ready. Be still, a chuisle .”

But how could I be still with him doing what he was doing to me? His fingers were inside me, stretching and massaging until I thought I’d go mad. I begged him; I cried out; I beat against the mattress. He ignored it all and kept going. Finally, finally he pressed his prick inside me and eased himself into me, filling me slowly but inexorably until his scrotum brushed my ass. I screamed then and he stopped at once, peering down at me breathlessly, but when he saw I was only excited, he smiled and began at last to slowly move again.

It hurt a little, but I quickly got used to the feeling, because he had prepared me well. I thought I could easily learn to crave this. I pushed back desperately against him until he guided my hips into a rhythm and he slowly, rhythmically fucked me into oblivion. He used long, slow strokes that made me beg and scream. I guess we were both learning that I was very noisy in bed. But there was nothing I could do to stop it. I couldn’t help it.

My orgasm overtook me suddenly—probably way too soon, and I strained back against him, chasing that excruciating, insane feeling as I came all over myself and the bed. He came right afterward, pushing into me hard. It was intense and I heard him choke off a curse as his heat flooded me inside.

He fell on his side, still clutching me close to him and my breathing was a series of little gasps. He stroked my hair, and he kissed my neck. I turned to gaze at him through dazed eyes, and he silently gazed back at me. I wondered how long it would be until he was tired of me. He was so beautiful, and I was so very plain. Seriously, he could have anyone he wanted—why was he bothering with me?

He sat up beside me and I felt bereft. I reached for him, and he reached back and grabbed my hand.

“Rest now.”

“I-I can’t,” I said but then ruined it with a huge yawn.

He laughed and petted my hair for a while, not saying anything. Then finally, he whispered in my ear. “Was that your first time with a man, a chuisle?”

“First time with anyone,” I gasped, feeling so hot with embarrassment I thought I might burst into flames.

“You’ve never…?”

“No. I never. Just a kiss here or there.”

His eyes darkened. “Who kissed you?” he asked sharply.

“One of the serving maids. And my friend, Arlo.”

“Which one was he? Not the redhead?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s Montrose.”

He pulled me back to him and resettled me in his arms.

“No others then? Are you sure?”

“No others.”

“And just kisses?”

“Yes. Mostly.”

“What is this ‘mostly?’”

“Arlo put his hand on me once, but that’s all.”

“On you, where?”

“You know—down there. But through my clothes and it was just for a second or two.”

He made a little growling sound and fell back on his side of the bed. “No more of that. You belong to me now.”

It was an insufferable thing to say—domineering, possessive, and distrustful. I loved it. I answered him meekly.

“Can you promise me the same?”

He gave me a dark look. “I’m not teasing or playing, Killian. Remember that I’m a very jealous being. I always have been.”

“Does that mean that you might…love me?”

“It means I don’t want other men’s hands on you. Nothing more.”

“I see.” I turned away, hurt that he wouldn’t commit to faithfulness when he demanded it of me. It was stupid to know someone such a short time and feel this way. I knew it. I also couldn’t do anything about it.

Without another word, he pulled me back and pushed up my knees until they fell open. He bent over to taste me, putting his whole mouth over my shaft. I screamed in surprise, because I didn’t know people did this kind of thing either, and I was amazed by it. I couldn’t be still as his mouth moved over me, and I was crying out at the sensations and reaching for him. Why did I react this way to him? Something must be wrong with me.

He whispered, “Shhh…” in my ear. “You’ll make the servants think I’m killing you.”

I thought he actually might be, but I tried to be quieter. The prince bent to his work, sliding his tongue over me and even licking me over my entrance again. I started shaking so hard I was afraid I’d pass out. Nothing had ever felt like that before. Nothing. He caressed my sides and my belly and tried to soothe me. “Calm down.”

I nodded frantically, and he smiled at me, kissing me on the inside of my knee.

He whispered in my ear—soft, crooning sounds that made me unbearably hot and caused fluttery feelings in my stomach. He laughed softly. “Hush now. I think I’ve changed my mind about resting. I think I’m far from being done with you. In fact, I may just be getting started.”