The Magic King
Page 10
There he is...
A voice, clear as a wind chime, spoke the words in my head, making me startle and twitch. I’d not heard the voice of the devil since the night at the beach. I gulped, trembling, because she was not done yet.
Mine...
My eyes went wide in my head, and I wondered if I’d gone insane. The Man in Black’s eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared, and the look was feral and hypnotizing.
And I swear to the gods that I suddenly felt boiled alive. In that one look, I felt all the emotions and the sensations that I’d wanted to find in Donal’s kiss. I sucked in a sharp breath, trembling all over.
Donal hugged me tight, no doubt mistaking my emotions for ones he’d elicited in me. I had to get away. I had to get some air.
Run. I didn’t know if the voice was the devil in my head or my own thought, but suddenly my feet tingled and every square inch of me felt tense and desperate.
“Thanks,” I squeaked at Donal, and yanking out of his loose grip, I ran. I had no idea where to go. I heard Mama and Papa call my name, but I didn’t turn because I felt the march of a beast pounding behind me, and I knew that if I stopped he would take me down.
Chapter 9
Rumpel
Danika had come for me, yanked me to the ball against my protestations. I didn’t want to be there and didn’t want to see Shayera, even though I desperately did.
She was the age she’d been when she’d first become mine. I wanted to drown myself in bourbon and remember her as she’d been then. And that had been my plan that night, until the wild, angry fae had shown up and shanghaied me against my bloody will.
“You threw her that damn bloody ball, so you will bloody well go and congratulate her, you big fat oaf!” she hissed when we arrived outside the doors of the great hall, stomping her foot. She shoved me from behind, causing me to stumble.
I rolled my eyes and dusted off my black cuffs. “I don’t have to do anything. You know the rules. I am not allowed to declare myself to Shayera until she has turned twenty-one. I’m rule bound.”
“Rules, schmules!” Danika asserted, glaring at me. “Since when did rules ever stop you before? Now I’m telling you, the girl must see you tonight. She must. She is at a crossroads, Rumpel. Fate has decreed that it is this night she will find her love. You must be here.”
Fire burned through my belly and my hands clenched. “Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe Fate doesn’t want me here tonight? Maybe I’m supposed to stay home? Maybe she’d be better off without me in her wo—”
Smack.
I was so shocked by the sudden stinging of my throbbing cheek that I said nothing as I stared down at Danika, whose mouth gaped open. She put her shaking hands over her mouth, and her blue eyes were wide and startled in her suddenly pale face.
“Did you just—”
“Bloody hell, Rumpel,” she grumped, “you make me so angry sometimes. I shouldn’t have slapped you. That said, you’re a giant disappointment to me right now. What happened to your fight? What happened to the man who forced Gerard and Betty to remember their once great love? What happened to the male who fought like a beast to make sure his bride would live again? I know what you said today, but I refuse to accept it. I will not accept this! You will not just tuck tail and run because it’s easier. Screw you, man! Grow a pair.”
I bit my bottom lip, forcing myself to control the sudden flood of adrenaline pushing through my veins. “That man is dead, fairy. I’m no good for Shayera, and I know that now. Look at what I’ve done just to get her here. I’ve killed. I’ve tortured. I very nearly killed her own father. There is no coming back from that.”
Her laugh was high-pitched and shrill. “Yes, and I’m sure she’d curse you up a blue streak for making sure she was born. You’re an idiot, Rumpel—”
“I’ve had just about enough of that,” I snarled. I wasn’t a very nice man at the best of times, and she was getting on my last nerve.
She sighed. “Listen to me, and listen to me well. I am a fairy godmother. It is in my nature to do as I am doing, especially when I know what the heart really wants. Yes, with love comes pain. Heartache. Sometimes such agony that it steals one’s ability to reason or even want to live anymore. But without the bitterness of love, the full ripeness and pleasure of it can never be experienced. Do you understand that, Rumpel? Hurting is part of the loving. Sometimes the very best part, because it lets you know just how much you’re still able to care. The world may call you a monster, but I do not see it. I’ll never see it. You’re worthy to be loved, my friend.”
I growled, wanting so desperately to give in, wanting so badly to walk through that door and see her, hold her, touch her, and make her love me as she once had.
“Give her a chance to love you back, beast. That’s all I ask.” She clasped her hands together.
Gods above. I glared at her, hating that her words were weakening my resolve. I was a wreck.
She scoffed. “Unlike the rest of the world, I do not fear the Dark Prince. Get used to it.”
“Oh, believe me, that fact has been made evident. I don’t like you, fairy.”
She stuck out her tongue at me. “Ask me if I care.”
“I’m going home.” I made to turn, but she yanked me back around by my shirt, gripping it in a tight fist. The faes were tiny but mighty and often underestimated. I felt myself grow angry as I stared down at her hand.
She quickly released me just a moment later, as though I’d scalded her. “Hear me and hear me well, Rumpelstiltskin, the Pink has spoken to me. This night, Fate’s hand will intervene. Shayera is destined to find her mate tonight. Whomever her eyes lock on at midnight is who she will choose. Even if she can never love him the way she loves you, she will remain always faithful to him. So walk away if you want, but know that you get no other chances. There will never be another curse, no second opportunities to make this right. If you leave, then go knowing that it was you and you alone who screwed this up forever.”
My chest heaved. Fury ate through my veins like a screeching demon. I’d told Betty years ago that nineteen would be Shayera’s time, that nineteen would be the age at which she would choose. Betty had kept me bound to twenty-one years, and if I showed up now I broke my oath to her.
It was true that I’d gone to Shayera when she was nine, but that had been a life-or-death situation and outside of the promise I’d made. I’d break any rules to keep Shayera safe, but beyond that I was a man of honor. There was nothing as sacred to me as my word, because a man was only as good as it. But as I stood there in that moment, those words became a complete farce, an absolute lie that I’d spoon-fed myself for years, because the truth was that there was one thing far more sacred to me than anything else.
And she was inside that room.
I swallowed hard, noting that Danika had vanished, leaving me alone to wrestle with my demons alone.
If I walked through the doors, I’d break my oath. If I didn’t, I would lose the only thing that had ever mattered to me, the bonds of family. Euralis would lose his mother. My people would lose their joy. And no one but my son and I would ever know the great depths of that loss .
I stepped inside the room, where I heard nothing and saw nothing.
Except her.
My eyes stayed trained on her as I moved like a shadow within. She was dressed in green silk taffeta. Her skin was radiant, almost glowing, but not from the sirens curse. She beamed from within with the effervescence that had always been uniquely hers.
I clutched at my throbbing chest. I’d not physically seen her since the night at the beach. I’d interacted not at all, telling myself it was for her. I’d convinced myself that I did it so that she might live a happy life, one filled with children and a husband who could be the type of man she needed.
I shook my head and moaned as I finally caught sight of another male with her, a man, a giant oaf who moved as though he had boulders for feet. He touched her far too frequently. And his ears poked out too
far from his head. He was covered in freckles and had a ridiculous-looking face, and I hated him with the strength of ten-thousand suns.
I wanted him far, far away from her. Wanted to curse his name. Wanted to wound him. Hurt him. I wanted him dead.
And then the male leaned forward and kissed my bride.
The blade of that wound cut through my heart like steel, and I hissed. But the worst of it wasn’t just the kiss. The worst was the smile that laced her lovely lips afterward.
I growled, the sound coming from deep within me.
A bell tower chimed. One, two, three, and on, and on, and on, until it hit twelve. Shayera stilled and looked over at me.
I snarled.
She ran.
Shayera
I TORE INTO A ROOM, any room. I wasn’t very particular. The cries of my mother and father and even Donal immediately ceased.
I looked around and noted that I was in the Wonderland room, but I was in a part I’d not seen before. Should I turn back around? Then I heard the beast’s snarl, and I squealed, running through a heavy set of iron doors and into a world full of radiant darkness.
It was a world of lights in the night. Everything—the flowers, the trees—glowed. Even the brook that ran beside me gleamed with a hypnotic-blue phosphorescence.
The beast’s breathing grew harder and harder, and then... It jumped me from behind, landing powerfully on my back and dragging me down with it.
I screamed. “Let me go! Let go!”
We rolled on the carpeted grass. He was long, muscular, and unbelievably strong. But he held me like the finest of China, as though I might break at any moment, and it would break him if I did. His frame trembled, and that’s when I looked up, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of his face in the moonlight.
This was no animal, but a man, who was sharp and angular and mind-blowingly handsome. But it was his eyes that snared me and held me fast. They were blue, mingled with the flame of red. I gasped. “You! I remember you!”
Callused fingertips banded tightly around my wrist. “Don’t move,” he said. And I heard it, the same, deep husky voice that’d haunted my dreams since I was a child of nine.
I began to shiver.
I felt his gaze rake my face like hot coals. And my skin prickled and danced with heat and fire. My trembling breaths were ragged. My breasts brushed his powerful chest whenever I inhaled.
His eyes closed, and he looked like he was in excruciating pain as he fought to check his bestial nature.
Kiss him... The thought echoed in my head. The feminine devil’s voice was small at first, but the longer I ignored it the louder her command grew, until my mouth began to tingle for his touch. I felt desperate that he do it, so that I could feel alive again.
“You’re the Man in Black,” I whispered, my voice sounding deeper and huskier than I remembered it ever sounding before. In fact, it sounded an awful lot like the devil in my head. I shivered. “You’re a bad man.” I wasn’t sure why I said it. Maybe nerves, or maybe because a dark part of me thrilled at the idea of having power over something so powerful.
Here, kitty, kitty... That devilish voice echoed powerfully inside of me. My breathing hitched, and my fingers curled into my skirts as I flexed my nails.
What is happening to me? What is this madness inside of me?
He hadn’t been looking at me when I’d first started talking, but when I looked up he was staring at me. His face was a mask of both the man and the beast, and my heart pounded so violently in my chest I thought I might be sick from it.
Will he kill me? Eat me?
Kiss him...
I gulped. Something was terribly, terribly wrong with me, and not just because of this sudden and very unwelcome intrusion in my head, either.
Why do I not fear this obviously unstable male the way I should? Why is he even now lying on top of me with his legs twined with my own, and I’m not shivering with terror that he means to harm me? That he wants my siren’s magic for his own? I trembled with a bone-deep want so fierce and powerful that every beat of my heart screamed for him to touch me again and again and again, until my very soul was consumed by him.
He loves it when you rake your nails down the back of his head.
The voice was actually giving me dating advice.
This is it, Shayera, this is him. Your one true love. Your fated mate.
My heart pounded so hard in my chest that I was surprised he hadn’t heard it yet. I felt as though I’d lost my mind. But I heard the voice—as clear as day, I heard her. There was passion trembling in her voice, and the breathy whimpers of anticipation curled through her vowels.
Who... who is this?
I was crazy. It was crazy. I was having a conversation with a figment of my imagination. It’s just the stress of the ball getting to me. It has absolutely nothing to do with this overwhelmingly potent and magnetic man. Nothing. Nope. Not a bit.
The voice came back. You know who I am. I’m the little voice you’ve always heard. I’m the whisper of truth in your dream. I am she. I am her. I was you...
I was so shocked I could barely move. All my life I’d heard this voice, but always I’d managed to fight her off. Always I’d managed to bury her away, telling myself I was mad to give in to her. Through the years, I’d managed to bury her and to forget about her.
My chest ached. I’d thought she wasn’t real, that I’d been possessed by madness. But always she’d been in my dreams, always just there, a presence, an awareness within me but hidden just out of reach, flitting beneath the surface.
Not anymore, siren. He is ours. All ours. You may not know it yet, but you will. Do as I say, and nothing more.
I didn’t even notice when it happened, but I was no longer fighting him. In fact, my arms were banded tight around his chest, pressing him down, as though terrified that he meant to leave me. I was at war with myself. Wanting and not wanting. Loving and hating. I took a deep breath.
His eyes closed, and his long lashes flickered. “You kissed him,” he growled.
My spine stiffened.
It’s okay, it was fated, the voice said. He had to see it to act. I know him, Shayera, I know everything about him. Trust me. Just... trust me.
What the blue blazes is happening to me? I stared wide-eyed at the devil in black, not even knowing what to say and thinking I might truly be losing the last bits of my sanity at that very moment.
You’re not crazy. But I’ll be damned if I let you or him screw this up. The fate of our children rests in your tiny hands, siren. Do you trust me?
He looked at me, cocking his head, the arrogance so evident I choked on it, but there was something else there too. Something wild. Something desperate. He scented the air, reminding me again of his feral nature. It was as though he could sense the war inside me.
I trust you.
Then repeat after me...
My heart rattled in its cage as I heard the combative, angry words she wanted me to say. I didn’t want to say them.
I felt her push against me. Say it, siren. Say it now.
“So... so what?” I reluctantly squeezed the words out of me, and a fierce blush stole up my neck. “Who... who are you to—”
“Who am I?” he bellowed.
I flinched at his rage, but in my head I felt her smile. I felt her quicken and stir, felt her excitement, and it began to mingle with my own sense of dread. It made me feel light-headed and invigorated.
His face was a contorted mask of rage, fury, and another emotion, something so profoundly painful to look upon that I felt tears burning the corners of my eyes and I swore I could feel it too. Pain. I could feel it squeezing the life from out of me.
“Who am I! I am the one who killed for you. The one who never stopped. Day and night. Locked away with my madness. Consumed by it. You forgot me! And I hate you for it! I hate you! I hate that I still lo—”
I sobbed, hurting so deeply that it seemed his words alone could end me. Her voice abandoned me completely. I c
ouldn’t believe I’d said that, because I would never have said that if not prompted by that voice. I should never have said those things to him.
Kiss him now...
Trembling with relief and simultaneously profoundly vexed by what she’d done, I let out a low growl, releasing my frustrations on him. I did the one thing I knew I shouldn’t but had wanted to do from the very second I’d spied him in the ballroom. I swallowed his words of hate with my mouth.
The first touch of his skin to mine was an exquisite tempest that scalded me, making me want to scream, to sigh, and to sob. This was it. It was the passion I’d always desperately needed. The excitement and verve for life came from the touch of a wicked, wicked man.
The touch of my skin to his unleashed something in him, a cruel gentleness that I craved and wanted more and more of.
My beast. My tempestuous devil. Her voice crooned like a lover’s heated caress, making me blush to hear it. I felt as though I was listening in on something private, but also so desperate for more of his dark and terrible touch that I just didn’t care.
His hands dug into my hair, fisting it tight, and making a mess of my pins and scattering them everywhere. I hissed, bowing into the strength of his grip, even as I too clawed and scratched at his throat.
The back of his head, siren. Do it. Slave to the commands of the devil inside my head, I did as she commanded and clawed him good. I couldn’t believe I’d so blindly trusted a voice, and yet the second I did it, it was like something in him stirred.
He became a deadly and terrible beast. His touch turned frenetic, and the way he curved his body into me, stabbing my thigh with his rigid thickness, I cried out in ecstasy, knowing it could never, ever get better than that. It wasn’t possible. It simply wasn’t possible.
He was a stranger to me, and yet I felt something all-consuming with him, something I knew I would never find in another, no matter how long I searched.
“You kissed him,” he snarled, and his kisses began to turn rough and violent. His hands gripped coils of my hair, and it was my turn to cry out and bow up to meet the violence of his grip and thrusts.