by Rory Miles
Draven’s shoulders shake slightly, but he doesn’t laugh aloud. “Shera is a demon, Sewyn.”
The tiny woman gives me another once-over, and I can’t help but stand a little taller. Even the weakest of fae can rival the strength of the high born demons; it’s what makes their race so dangerous not only to humans and mages, but to me as well. On Earth they’re slightly weakened, but here in Faerie, she’ll be at her strongest.
“Hmm. I expected something a little more fierce.”
Excuse me? I’m plenty fierce.
I don’t respond to her, though I’d very much like to, because I still don’t have access to my powers and I’m not sure if she has fae magic. Not all fae do. But if she does, she’d kick my ass right now.
Draven’s eyes flash with humor when he sees the look on my face. When they flit down my body and then rise to meet mine once more, all traces of humor are gone. Since we’ve already slept together once, the hunger lurking in the depths of his eyes makes my thighs clench in anticipation.
“I’d caution against insulting her once Faerie accepts her.”
Sewyn makes a strange noise. “You’re so certain she will accept your little pet?”
Not entirely sure how I became a pet. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at Draven and mouth pet? He shakes his head, and sighs.
“We’ll take the food on the night patio.”
Dipping her head, she shoots me one last scathing look as Draven grips my arm and drags me from the kitchen. His fingers are hot against my skin, and even without my power, I feel myself responding to the simple touch. When I find myself drifting closer to him, I jerk my arm out of his grasp and step away.
“Sewyn seems sweet.”
He laughs at my comment, and turns down another finely decorated hall. This one ends with French doors that open to what I assume is the night patio.
“Sylphs are a finicky bunch,” he replies, flicking his wrist so the doors open of their own accord.
Draven leads me onto a large, black-marbled floor. The patio is circular and a mahogany round table sits prominently in the middle with matching chairs. Six posts rise up from the perimeter of the floor and a ring of wood joins them together; a sheer navy-blue fabric is draped over it.
I duck under one of the low-hanging floating lights, that look more like tiny fireballs than lightbulbs, and scan the grounds. The shadows cover the moon still, so it’s hard to make out the landscaping. Given the rest of the castle, I imagine a vast and beautiful lawn covered with several gardens.
“Here you are.” Draven pulls out a chair, gesturing for me to sit.
“Thanks.” I wrinkle my nose at the formality, but gently lower myself into the seat. Instead of sitting opposite me, he takes the open chair next to me and scoots it close enough that our legs brush when we shift.
Clearing my throat and deciding I’ve had enough of the fae fuckery, I ask, “What do you want from me?”
He gazes out into the darkness, eyes tracking something I can’t see, even with my demon sight, which is far better than a human’s.
When he takes too long to answer, I snap my fingers in front of his face, pulling his attention back to me. “Did you hear me?”
When his eyes slip from mine and trace the line of my body, that same intense darkness from before brushes against my skin. My eyelids flutter closed because the touch feels so intimate, almost as if the darkness is an extension of his body.
“What you ask is not easily answered. What do I want from you? I can think of a million things I want to do to you, and given your permission, would enjoy taking my time with.”
My face heats, but I meet the hunger head on, feeling my own want preening at his words. All the need evaporates from his face, leaving behind a cold and calculating fae lord I’ve never met.
“Though, I don’t think that is the answer you seek. If you want to know something, ask the right question.”
I open my mouth to ask why he targeted me, but Sewyn is suddenly there, placing her body between ours and setting down several trays of food. How she brought so many at one time confounds me, but I’m sure fae magic is involved. When she pulls back, her arm jostles my shoulder and I start to rise. Draven grabs me before I can go after the little sylph, and tugs me into his lap.
Still wary of his intentions, I don’t settle into his warmth like my body wants to. My hands are on his shoulders and I don’t let my hips rest against his, instead using my thighs to brace myself.
He picks up a small, blueberry-looking fruit, but the color is too vibrant to be what I think. Bringing it to my mouth, he presses it against my lips until I part them and let him place the strange fruit on my tongue. I don’t trust him, but I doubt he’ll kill me with food, so I chew, gasping in surprise when the juice bursts across my tongue.
“Chocolate and raspberries!”
I ignore his chuckle when I toss a handful more in my mouth and greedily eat the delicious treat.
When his hand brushes my hair over my shoulder, I glare at him, remembering the reason I’m supposed to be mad.
“Why did you target me?”
His fingers trail down my arms and I’m ten seconds away from forgetting about political plots and letting my core settle over his. The first time we had sex, his power was muted and I can’t help but wonder if he held back when we were together.
“Curiosity.”
I sigh and decide against screwing him on the night patio. Such a shame.
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
He nods and smirks, like he expected my annoyance and is thoroughly enjoying getting a rise out of me. “There are whispers in Faerie about revolts in Avernus.”
With a shrug, I say, “Someone always wants the throne. That isn’t enough to warrant a lord’s attention.”
He hums, running one hand down my spine and using the other to grab some of the chocolate raspberry fruit. His body brushes the front of mine and I bite my lip as my thoughts pivot and spiral down to the gutter.
Perhaps angry sex would be all right. I mean, given that we’ve already slept together, what harm could it do?
When he leans back, I drop into his lap and give him a devilish smirk. His eyes widen slightly, nostrils flaring at the contact. Something hardens and grows even longer when I lean back and rest my arms against the table. My breasts jut out and his attention strays to my peaked nipples.
“What’s the real reason? No bullshit this time.”
His hand brushes my throat before resting on my chest just above my cleavage. Eyes roving my body, he says, “Despite being high lord, Lucifer’s name is hardly mentioned in these whispers. One name is, though, quite frequently.”
When his other hand grips the small of my back and presses our bodies together, I let out a satisfied sigh and roll my eyes.
“I’m guessing my name is the one that you refer to.”
The hand on my chest dips slightly, his rough palm resting firmly over my cleavage. His hands are so large that a finger dips under my bra. He isn’t answering, instead focused on where his hand is placed, eyes flickering from a vibrant green to a murky, forest green. Fae power rolls over my skin, and I shiver at the caress.
When he leans forward to kiss me, I place my finger against his lips and tsk.
“Not so fast, fae bae. So, you heard my name. That doesn’t explain why you targeted me. There is no way you randomly ended up in Erma’s book.”
My core is aching and ready, but I force myself out of his lap and return to my seat. His hands are slow to leave my body. Eventually he sighs with reluctant acceptance and folds his arms across his chest.
“Lord Vukan of the Court of Fire had several meetings with a demon princess. She was adamant that you would be a game changer.”
I scrunch my brows together. So, Levia or Verrina have relations with a fae lord. Unlike my prior relations with Draven, I doubt either princess would be sleeping with a fae. Especially if their conversations revolved around me.
“H
ow do you know this?”
His smile is vicious and full of dark promises. “The shadows remember.”
As if hearing him speaking highly of them, said darkness slithers over his skin and coils around his forearms. Draven doesn’t seem to notice, but I stare in rapt attention as they mold to his being and watch his eyes darken from that forest green to almost entirely black.
When they pull away from him, his irises snap back to green and he glances back at the house, brows pulling down in anger.
Turning back to me, he says, “I need you to make me a fae vow.”
“A fae vow? Really?” I can’t hide my derision. After everything he’s revealed, how can he expect me to make a binding promise?
“Now is not the time to be cute,” he grumbles. “Give me your hand.”
“Draven, do you really think I’d bind myself to you?”
Annoyance ripples over his face, but it doesn’t last long. A deep guttural cry echoes around the patio, and a low snarling fills the air. Stiffening and shooting another look back at the patio, he curses.
“I can’t protect you if you don’t. Please.” When his tone switches from irritated to pleading, I tilt my head and consider the shadows still lurking near him.
“What’s coming?”
Deafening thunder reverberates in the sky above the covered patio. The closer it gets, I realize it isn’t thunder at all, but the cacophony of a thousand horses galloping. I jump and stand, crouching low and preparing for a fight. My stomach drops as a breeze carrying the scent of the dead washes over me.
He grimaces. “Nothing you’re ready to confront. Give me your hand.”
When the largest raven I’ve ever seen swoops over my head and lands on the table, I yelp and slap my hand into his. Whispering fiercely in a language I don’t understand, Draven utters the words of a fae vow. Shadows jump at his voice and wrap around my ankles, slowly rising until they’re covering my body. Shrouded in his own shadows, Draven’s gaze clashes with mine.
“Shera of Avernus, do you accept the fae vow, binding your life to mine?”
I begin to protest; binding my life to his could be deadly for us both. If he were to die, so would I and vice versa. What sort of game is he playing?
Before I can ask, movement draws my eyes from his, and I watch as a woman steps onto the patio. Her hair is blood red and so long that the tips brush her ankles. She stands completely naked, caramel skin covered in streaks of blood. She senses me watching, turns her pure white gaze to mine and flashes her teeth at me.
This is not a nice fae. She’s death incarnate and I know without a doubt she’s here for me. The thundering hooves grow louder and the smell of decay makes me gag as she takes another step closer.
The shadows wrapped around me squeeze tightly, stopping me before I leave Draven and run into the night, fleeing whatever this woman is.
He nods when I tear my attention from her. His eyes are rounded with fear, and I know the next few moments are crucial to my survival. No matter the cost, I must accept his offer if I wish to live through the night.
“Yes, I accept the fae vow.”
Chapter Thirteen
All at once, the loud pounding of hooves ceases. My power rushes full force through my veins and I drop my head back, sighing in relief. The shadows still cling to me, but I ignore them.
“I guess Mother Faerie accepts me now?” I ask when my allure reaches for Draven.
When he doesn’t answer, I remember the woman of death, and dart a glance at her. She’s scowling at Draven, and even though I know he’s powerful, I fear for his safety.
“You interfered with the hunt.”
He shakes his head. “You know once a fae vow is extended to a demon the hunt can’t claim them without cause.”
I’m very confused by whatever the hunt is supposed to be, but I’m not about to ask the woman who made me want to piss myself if she can explain what she’s talking about.
Her eyes are still completely white, and I try my damndest not to stare at their milky color but I can’t help myself. Such a strange creature. I sniff, noticing the death smell has abated. She snarls at me.
“My, my, someone has anger issues.” Now that I’ve got my power back, I don’t feel quite as vulnerable. I’m still not sure if I’m strong enough to withstand an attack, but there’s no time like the present to find out.
“Tame your pet before I do it myself.”
Draven shoots me a warning look, but he’s a few moments too late because I’ve already gathered up a load of allure. I hurl it at her, swaying my hips and closing the gap between myself and Lady Death.
Trailing a finger over her collarbone, I lean in and whisper, “This pet bites and doesn’t take kindly to threats.”
She snatches my hand, and just as I think she’s about to kick my ass, she pulls me into her and I smirk, using my free hand to smooth some of her blood-red hair. My allure is full-force now and I see her fighting for control. She’s not as strong as the lord behind me.
“Shera,” Draven’s grunted words sound pained.
Right, the allure doesn’t just affect the person I direct it at. Anyone near me will feel my call, and those not strong enough to resist will fall. His being able to say my name means he’s not under my thrall. Though that’s not to say the heady lust filling the air isn’t affecting him.
I pat the woman’s cheek, harder than necessary, and tamp down my power. “Pleasure to meet you, Lady Death.”
She blinks, then narrows her eyes. “My name is Lady Thana from the Court of the Dead. I am the wild hunt, the reaper of souls, the harbinger of death.”
What is this, Game of Thrones?
She rattles off a few more titles. When she finishes, I hear Draven say my name, another warning of sorts, and I ignore him once again.
“I am Shera the Succubus. I am lust, the goddess of sex, the harbinger of orgasms.”
Draven snorts and mutters something under his breath I can’t understand but I hear the words unbelievable and fucking demon.
Lady Thana considers my titles, flits her gaze over my frame in a way that’s more leering than assessing, then dips her head in acknowledgment.
“Well met, Shera,” she says moments before she disappears in a whirl of gray smoke. When the smoke dissipates, only a small pile of ash remains.
“Did she just—” I point and try wrap my head around what just happened.
“She’s not dead; Lady Thana travels with the dead. It’s quite a bit messier than traveling through the shadows.”
“Right,” I say with a laugh. When I remember the vow, I sober. “A life binding?”
He gives me a funny little smile, one that I can’t read.
“In Faerie, demons are not welcome.” He shrugs, like binding himself to me with an unbreakable fae vow is no big deal.
Demons aren’t welcome here in Faerie because some like to surprise and kill fae for fun on Earth. Their kind are weakened when they’re away from their mother; so on Earth, Draven and I are probably equally matched. Here, where he can pull from the power of his creator, he would win hands down.
Suddenly the weight of the past few days is too much to bear, and it feels as if all of my energy has been pulled from my body. I wonder if Lady Thana has something to do with the loss of energy. More likely, though, my use of power so soon after being able to access it drained me.
His green eyes look me over. “Let me take you to your sleeping quarters.”
“A guest bedroom, you mean?”
He gives me a wry look. “Sort of.”
When we leave the patio and enter the castle, we head down a hall, then up some stairs and through another labyrinth of passages before we come to a door that’s covered in rose carvings. The door handle is dainty and twisted like a braid.
“Oh,” is all I can say when he shows me into the rooms. Rooms, as in plural, because there is a sitting room, bedroom, bathroom, dining room and my own private patio.
“This is the lavender su
ite.”
“How original,” I tease. The color-scheme is lavender and black, so the name fits.
The small table in the dining room has a cup of steaming tea that smells divine. Draven hands it to me. One sip confirms the delicious tea is just what I need, and soon I’ve drank the entire mug.
“The tea will keep the nightmares at bay.”
I pull a face. “I do not have nightmares.”
With absolute seriousness, he says, “Perhaps not on Earth, but Lady Mara would find her way into your dreams if you had not drunk the tea.”
“I never thought I’d drink the Kool-Aid.”
“What?”
Waving my hand around, I change the subject. “Where do you sleep?”
He smirks. “Want to keep me company?”
The offer is tempting, but I’m yawning and honestly, I really want to sleep.
“Maybe another night. I’m still not sure how I feel about your deception.”
“We’re all deceiving others every day. Some in little ways, some in larger.”
Right, Lord Draven the Wise.
“That doesn’t make what you did all right. You still haven’t told me which princess of Hell is meeting with Lord Voodoo and why.”
“Vukan.” He chuckles when I hide another yawn behind a hand. “We can continue our conversation in the morning. Lady Thana can literally drain the life out of you. You should rest.”
I head into the bedroom, pulling back the covers as I consider what he just said.
“She used her powers on me?”
“Of course she did, you were threatening her. You’re lucky she didn’t kill you; she’s not known for her patience.”
I had thought she was under my thrall. I guess she hadn’t been fighting to break through my allure. She’d been trying to keep herself from killing me. Suddenly embarrassed by my ego, I bury myself in the blankets. Freaky fae fucks. I never thought I’d long for demon ploys and politics, but right now, it sounds better than being drained of life by Lady Death.
As my eyes grow heavier, Draven leaves and I’m alone in the lavender suite. Just before I drift off to sleep, I wonder: Is this how my victims feel when I take too much essence?
