Taken by Storm (Storms of Blackwood Book 1)

by Elle Middaugh

  “See? There you go again with the laughing. You so freaking beautiful it hurts. But you know what the best part about you is? That you’re sincere and centered. You don’t like us because we’re rich and powerful. You like us because you’re stuck with us and you don’t want to kill us, and I think that’s really great.”

  I laughed until my side hurt. “I suppose it is pretty great that I don’t want to kill you guys.”

  He smiled almost shyly. “And I don’t want to kill you either. In fact, I’d much rather kiss you. Or sex you. That was incredible the other night, by the way. I can’t stop thinking about it, but not in a creepy sort of way. I mean, okay, yeah, I might’ve jerked off to the thought of it a few times, but that’s not disturbing or anything, right?”

  I was midsip when he finished that sentence, so when I burst out laughing, I accidentally sprayed chocolatey mist everywhere. Which, of course, made me laugh even harder.

  “By all means, jerk away!”

  “Well, thank the gods I have your approval. I actually like having it, even though I act like I don’t care sometimes. I always care, even though I probably shouldn’t. It’d be so much easier if I wanted Bria and didn’t want to be part of the group. But it’s just the opposite: I don’t want Bria, and I do want the group. It’s not that she’s not pretty and sweet and an all-around good person, because she is, it’s just that there’s no passion, no magnetism, no spark, and no chemistry.”

  He barely took a moment to breathe before continuing his tirade.

  “I want to feel those things for her, because trust me, it’d make my life 100 percent easier, but I just can’t. I feel them for you. And to be honest—do you mind if I’m being honest? I know it bothered you earlier—anyway, I’m actually considering choosing you and the group over her, even though I hate the idea of hurting my mother.”

  It wasn’t funny in the slightest, the things he was saying, but I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of me in response.

  “I can’t believe you might choose us!” I giggled. “I never would have thought that in a hundred years.”

  “Well, you better believe it,” he said as pushed his cup to the middle of the table. “Get this shit away from me; it’s like liquid can’t-shut-the-fuck-up. Anyway, you should believe it because I hate telling lies. I almost never do it. When I had to tell that fae outside that I wasn’t Prince Calvin, I hated every second of it, even though I knew I needed to in order to keep our secret.”

  I laughed at the memory of him getting ran over. “I told you you’d blend in with the road! You should have listened to me and changed your shirt.”

  “Yeah, but you have to admit, the silver looks good on me. Not as good as it’d look on Ben, apparently, but still, pretty damn good. And not as good as the sapphire looks on you. Well, as good as anything looks on you, really. Or nothing. Nothing looks really good on you. I quite enjoy seeing you naked.”

  I chortled and pushed my own cup away. “Likewise! Your body is incredible!”

  He waggled his brows at me. “So’s yours. Want to go back to Nightshade and be naked together? We can ogle each other’s bodies all we want without the awkward glances of the lesser fae—you know, if we were to do the same thing here. Which I don’t know why we would. Then again, I don’t know why we wouldn’t either. I’m kind of into the idea of exhibitionism, are you? It’s hot to think about fucking you as other people watch. Is that weird? I guess it’d be convenient for the group dynamic, at least. As long as they’re into voyeurism. I bet they are. I bet I am too.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. “I bet we’re all a bit of both.”

  “Yeah,” he decided with a nod, “the group thing could probably work out really well.”

  “Really really well,” I agreed.

  But then he put up a finger. “Except that I really hate the idea of starting a war. Even though they said in no uncertain terms that it absolutely would mean war, I bet there’s still some way around it. Everyone wants something, right? Like we want you, and you want us. What are we willing to sacrifice to get what we want in the end? Don’t answer that question; it was rhetorical. The real question is: what could Timberlune possibly want enough that they’d be willing to sacrifice my betrothal to Bria in order to get it?”

  I smiled wide, but didn’t laugh, so I was considering that progress. Fortunately, my momentary reprieve from the giggles allowed me to notice that people were starting to stare. “Let’s talk about it back at Nightshade, shall we?”

  “Does that mean you want to take me up on my offer of some naked fun?”

  “Possibly.” I grinned and stood up, only to remember I was now barefoot, and I broke into another fit of laughter. “That fae lady took my shoes!”

  Cal laughed too and scooped me up in his arms. “Don’t worry, Peach, I’ll carry you. I love having you in my arms. It makes me feel strong and manly. That’s stupid, isn’t it? Well, either way, it’s true. Gods damn this talkative coffee! I’m never drinking that shit again.”

  I laughed even harder as he carried me out of the café and back into the woods.

  The next thing I knew, we were flying through the sky.

  Chapter 26

  The following morning, I stared at my pink, puffy eyes and my swollen, trembling lips in the full-length mirror and tried to pull myself together.

  The night before, there had been no naked fun when we’d returned to the castle. No fun at all. All that was there was another soul-crushing package of bloodied hair. This time, though, it’d been blonde. The exact same shade as Gemma’s.

  My Dearest Alexis,

  Thank you kindly for the letter to your handmaiden. I hadn’t realized you two were close. Now that I know what she means to you, she now means a great deal to me as well. In fact, she’s keeping your mother company in your absence. How wonderful.

  I’m pleased to hear your dates with my sons are going well. However, I’m not thrilled to find Calvin’s betrothal to the fae whore still intact—not thrilled at all. I’ve decided to have a meeting with your mother and handmaiden about the issue.

  Hopefully we won’t come up with a solution before you do.

  Sincerely,

  Zacharias

  I’d read and reread the letter a thousand times before ripping it to shreds and burning it in a candle. I hated him. I hated him with all the power of every cell in my infuriated body.

  If only that power was accessible...

  I decided to postpone my date with Ben and spend the better part of the day getting my ass handed to me by Taron and Tamara. The external abuse probably wouldn’t even hurt this time; it’d be so much gentler than the violence of my internal pain. Gemma and my mother are being tortured in Blackwood Palace, and it’s all my fault.

  I rushed to the training room, pleased to find them ready and waiting, and got straight to work. We sparred for hours and I never said more than a single word at a time. I knew they were curious if not concerned about my behavior, but I didn’t want to talk about it, I just wanted the relieving pain they offered me.

  After taking a particularly punishing hit, I peeled my bloodied body off the floor and staggered onto my feet. “Again.”

  Taron heaved a heavy sigh and dropped his dagger to the floor. “Are you ready to tell us what’s bothering you yet?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing is bothering me more than my inability to use the fucking powers that got me into this godsforsaken mess in the first place. Now, hit me again.”

  Tamara didn’t hesitate, just whipped her blade straight at my heart. Miraculously, I caught the damn thing, shrieking as it sliced through skin and sinew and maybe even bone of my hand. Blood gushed to the floor in a thick river of crimson. Somehow, the vampires were mostly able to ignore the delicious sight, though Tamara did lick her blade when she retrieved it from me.

  I had the sudden vision of me trying to teach a giant cake how to fight and wield magic. Every time I sliced the stupid thing, icing would drip to the floor.
If that were the case, I’d lick the damn blade too.

  “Your skills are improving,” Taron commented. “Your reflexes, sharpening.”

  I took a deep breath and shook out my hand, scattering little red droplets all over the floor. “And yet, I’m no closer to unlocking my bullshit cutesy magic than I was on day one. Lovely.”

  “I think it’s all in your head,” Tamara said offhandedly.

  “Excuse me?”

  She shrugged. “You don’t actually believe you’ll be able to use your magic, so you can’t. Maybe if you could convince yourself that it’s real and that you’re capable of wielding it, it would come to you more willingly?”

  I glared at her. “As if it were actually that simple. You don’t think I’d have done it by now if it was as easy as, ‘Hey! Here’s my hand. And now, here’s my fire magic!’?”

  As I asked the mocking question, I went through the motions, pointing my palm out and shooting a ray of curly peach flames into the wall between their heads.

  Wait a second.

  My eyes went wide, and I stopped breathing completely. “Did I just...?”

  “Use magic?” Tamara asked smugly. “Sure did.”

  “Do it again,” Taron demanded, crossing his arms.

  I held out my palm and waited, but nothing happened. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Give it another vocal command,” Taron said. “It’s possible that your magic is voice-activated.”

  I bit my lip as I contemplated the insanity of his words.

  “Fine.” I spun to the side and aimed my palm at a wall much further from their faces—just in case. “Fire.”

  In an instant, another blast of flames tore from my palm and completely scorched the wall. Adrenaline surged, filling me with a jittery excitement.

  I spun again. “Fire.” More flames erupted out of me.

  I aimed my hands at the ground and shouted, “Fire!” Then I dragged both blasts up the walls and onto the ceiling above my head. I half expected the room to cut in half, but of course, it didn’t.

  To my surprise, Tamara started laughing. Laughing! As if this wasn’t the most badass thing I’d ever done in my entire life.

  “Out,” I commanded, extinguishing the flames. Embers of lust stirred to life in the pits of my core, the price for using my magic. Ignoring it, I turned toward Tamara. “What’s funny?”

  She shook her head but couldn’t seem to stop giggling.

  “What?” I asked, turning to Taron who merely shrugged in response.

  “I’m sorry!” She chortled as she doubled over. “It’s just your magic is so cute and frilly! It’s not fierce or scary at all. Does it even burn when you touch it?”

  “How about you find out? Fire.” I shot a steady burst of flames off to the side of her cackling form, daring her to touch it. As soon as she did, her skin hissed and seared, and for some godsforsaken reason, she laughed even harder.

  “It burns!” she cried as she giggled and cradled her fingers. “Don’t let the laughter fool you!”

  I felt the burn too. Using my magic again had caused the lust in my veins to intensify. It was getting harder to ignore.

  Taron stepped toward his sister but seemed reluctant to even touch her, as if he’d catch the hysteria too somehow. “Tamara, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know,” she giggled.

  And then it clicked.

  “She licked my blood off that blade. Yesterday I had a mocha latté that was spiked with a laughter potion. Do you think that’s why?”

  “What time yesterday?” he asked. “Twenty-four hours ago, or less?”

  “Probably,” I mumbled, staring at the vampire’s sharp teeth and soft, lickable lips. Was it just me, or had Taron gotten hotter overnight? The urge to kiss him was overwhelming.

  He nodded. “Good. She’ll get over this quickly then.”

  I raked both hands through my hair, trying to cool my ungodly desires. “It seriously affected her a whole day later?”

  “Vampires are sensitive to most things in the bloodstream,” Taron explained. “My sister and I are usually more careful about our blood sources, but today she was evidently feeling cocky.”

  I’d like to feel your cock...

  Wait, what? I shook my head. Oh fuck, this was about to get out of control. Vampire orgy in three... two...

  “Speaking of cocky,” Tamara spat out between laughs, “she’s giving you the eye, Taron. You better get Prince Robert before she gets you!”

  Taron’s brows rose, and his red eyes widened. He backed away slowly like I was a wild animal about to attack.

  “Come on, Tamara,” he said, latching on to her arm and dragging her with him. He kept his focus on me. “Alexis, we’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “And don’t do anyone!” Tamara teased.

  Realizing my breath had shallowed into gentle pants, I closed my eyes and shook my head. It did nothing to clear the haze of lust fogging up my brain. By the time I looked back up, the vamp twins were gone. Lucky for them.

  I growled in frustration as the need for release consumed me. I prowled the training room floor like a ravenous wolf, looking for someone, anyone, to help me soothe the ache. It was pointless, of course, since I knew damn well I was alone, but still, it helped pacify the restlessness that coursed within me. The thought of jilling off crossed my mind, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. I had no interest in it. Not this time.

  An eternity or so later, the twins returned with the brooding badass in tow.

  “Sorry for the delay, Your Highness,” Taron apologized to me as I glared. “We couldn’t find him at first, but as soon as we mentioned your... condition...”

  He said the word as if he’d finally picked up on my mood and realized that the situation had gotten worse.

  “Uh.” He glanced from me to Rob. “Prince Robert, you know how, if you use your powers for too long and you, consequently, take too much pain for too long, even intense and immediate warmth won’t make it go away?”

  Rob’s stormy eyes darted over to my heated ones as if Taron had just told me some huge-ass secret. In all fairness, he probably had. I didn’t know anything about Rob taking pain.

  “You have to just wait it out,” Taron continued nervously, “until it wears off on its own.”

  “Yes,” Rob said in a growl. “I’m aware of how it works.”

  The vampire nodded quickly. “I’m afraid that might’ve happened to her. Except, her price isn’t pain.”

  Rob nodded slowly in return. “It’s desire.”

  Just hearing that delicious word on his tongue made me moan.

  His gaze softened, and he reached for me. “Come here, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

  I rushed into his arms, and my mouth immediately found his neck, kissing up and down his salty skin as if my life depended on it. The ache of my craving finally softened, but the need of it only increased.

  Rob ran his fingers through my hair. “How much time passed from the start of her using the fire to now?”

  “Well,” Taron hedged, “she practiced with it for a few minutes. Then we had to deal with Tamara and the fucking giggles from hell. Then we couldn’t find you right away, and—”

  “Taron!” Rob shouted as I sucked on his ear. “Just... how long?”

  The vampire shook his head. “Twenty minutes?”

  “Okay, from now on, I want you to train her in ten-minute bursts,” Rob commanded as my lips moved down his throat and onto his collarbone, “and I want a bucket of ice-cold water nearby at all times. I don’t want it to get this far every time she uses it.”

  “Understood, Your Highness.”

  “Now, leave us.”

  The twins hesitated.

  “Will you be all right, Your Highness?” Tamara asked, apparently over the laughter potion. “We have no idea how she’ll react in this state.”

  Rob’s voice flattened. “I have a pretty good idea how she’ll react.”

>   “She could get... violent,” Tamara continued uneasily.

  Rob sighed. “I deal with pain every day, remember? I’ll be fine. Now go.”

  They bowed and did as ordered, scurrying from the room as fast as they could.

  When we were alone, Rob lowered me to the floor and curled up beside me, fisting my hair with just enough pressure to be hot as hell but not quite terrifying.

  “It’s maddening, isn’t it?” he asked in a soothing murmur.

  “Yes,” I breathed, wishing he’d do more than just talk to me. And soon.

  “When I use my magic, the price is pain.” He pulled my hair, making me gasp in unexpected pleasure. “I feel it everywhere: skin, muscles, nerve endings, rooting deep into my bones...” He dragged his fingers whisper-soft across the heated skin of my neck. “Is that what you’re feeling? Has your desire lit your very bones on fire?”

  “Yes,” I moaned, feeling the burn scorch my entire body.

  "You want some release?"

  "Yes," I groaned, frustration and impatience mixing harshly with need.

  "Then hit me."

  I shook my head, clinging to a tiny bit of coherence that suggested his words were out of place. "What?"

  "Hit me. Slap my face."

  "No. I don't want to hit you. I want you to fuck me."

  He smirked, a dark, seductive expression that was almost villainous. "If you want me to fuck you, you're gonna play this my way. Hit me."

  Gods damn it, he was frustrating.

  "Fine." I reared back and slapped him.

  He growled and tightened his fingers in my hair, pulling almost painfully. "Again."

  My upper lip curled, and I slapped him again.

  His eyes fell closed, and he bit his lip as he savored the sensation of pain. He released my hair. "Undress."

  He didn't have to tell me twice. I was out of my gown in record time.

  Then smack! He cracked my ass with enough force to make the sound echo in my ears. The sting quickly dissipated and was replaced with frantic need.

  "I said undress."

  I glanced down at my bra and undies and considering defying him again just to feel the painful pleasure of his hands slapping my skin, but instead I quickly whipped them off.