Property of the Fae

by Laxmi Hariharan

  When Nolan had mentioned the Fae Corps, I’d jumped at the opportunity. Not that life was easy while training for the Corps, but it was a hell of a lot less dangerous, and not just to my body. My story is similar to that of Dante, but it’s not something I am going to disclose to him or to anyone else. Not that I have anything to hide, but those memories are ones best suppressed. For some reason, all of that comes rushing to the fore, and I can’t understand why.

  Maybe it’s because I feel alive. For once, I don’t care about the mission the Fae Corps installed in me.

  There’s only this need to feel again. This intense urge to claim. To own. To break her. It’s why I cannot let her go. Why I am going to monopolize her and get her out of here. I am going to ruin her, only she has no idea yet.

  “You don’t mean it.” She raises her head so her lips hover at the height of my chest.

  I lick the last drops of sweetness from the lollipop then bend to my knees, so I am at eye level with her.

  “Try me.” I swing her up and over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Then stomp forward.

  The crowd of Fae and shifters who’ve gathered to celebrate the upcoming nuptials part.

  “Let me down.” She screeches then slams her fists into my back.

  I don’t feel it. No, I lie. The vibrations from the hit flood down my spine, pooling at the base. My dick hardens. I drop my hand to my crotch to adjust myself then continue to stalk forward. One step at a time.

  “Asshole, what the hell do you think you are doing?”

  “Giving you what you so innately crave, and that’s alpha-hole to you.”

  “Whatever, you brute.” She wriggles in my hold, and the side of her waist chafes against my neck. Her butt twitches.

  I smack the rounded flesh. The feel of her luscious curves sends lust roaring through my veins.

  Fuck, not what I’d expected. But so much what I want.

  The intensity of my need smashes over me. A low snarl vibrates up my chest. My ears lengthen, and I know then there isn’t much time left. I’d wanted to only teach her a lesson, but the bite of her nails as they sink it into my waist, through my clothes, the renewed moving around in my hold, all of it screams to me that I will not be able to stop here. My vision narrows; my chest heaves. I need to get her out of there.

  A figure steps in my path.

  “Get out of my way, Doc.” I shove at the other man’s shoulder.

  He moves aside, only to grab at my forearm. “You’re not thinking clearly, Chef.”

  “Fuck I care about that?”

  “My point exactly,” He holds my gaze, his features hard. “Don’t throw away everything you’ve fought for. You fuck up this mission and it'll cost you the Fae Corps.”

  Applause rings out around us. Behind me I hear cheering—clearly, the newly mated couple have arrived. The fucker Dante lucked out. He takes over as Commander of the Fae Corps and he’s found the love of his life. More power to my teammate.

  It’s all the more reason to get out of here. I'll never have the kind of bond that connects Dante and Gia. No one should have to put up with the seething mass of emotions that lurks inside me. No, all I have is her and I am not letting her go. Not now, not ever.

  I angle my head. “You’re right. I can’t mess this up. There’s too much at stake.” I raise my fist and slam it into Doc’s face.

  The big man goes sprawling on his back. The thud from the impact of his body shudders through the ground.

  Footsteps sound and Hawke comes running up. His gaze falls to Doc, then swivels to me.

  “Don’t,” I growl and tighten my hold on the woman in my arms.

  She bends her leg and tries to knee me. I ignore it. I step around Doc, and Hawke grabs my arm.

  I turn around and snarl at him.

  "Don’t do anything you’ll regret." Hawke drops his arm to his side. “I know you’re feeling something powerful for her, brother, just be sure you take care of your mate.”

  I set my jaw. “Not my mate.”

  Hawke folds his arms over his chest and stares.

  My heart begins to thud.

  Over my shoulder, all her muscles tense. “What’s the hell is he talking about?”

  The sound of her voice sends me over the edge. “You’re about to find out.” I race out of here, weaving through the crowd.

  I sense the fear that emanates from them. One of them makes to cross my path. I snarl, and he falls back. Then the faces fade. I reach the edge of the courtyard and leap over the wall.

  She gasps. “You do know I am a shifter?" Another thump slams into my back. "I am not a puny human who’ll give in without a fight.”

  “It makes this so much more exciting. You’re strong enough for everything I want to do to you and more…” The words come out so harsh, so needy, that hearing my voice only thickens my cock further.

  She must catch the intonation, too, for she struggles in earnest, kicking out at me, tearing at my back with her nails, and fuck if that doesn’t turn me on further. My groin twitches, my pulse races, and adrenaline spikes my blood.

  Lust sweeps through my body. Strong. Throbbing. So fucking intense. I stumble and almost lose my grip on her. The fuck is she doing to me? Only one way to find out. I draw in a breath in the space. The air lightens. The hair on my neck stands up. I draw up the energy from the hidden Fae part of me, let it rush over me, enclosing her in the bubble of the portal, and I teleport.

  3

  Jess

  Geometric designs flash past. My insides shrivel. Everything inside me tightens then shatters. The psychic breeze tears at my hair, and my eyes stream. Then the world forms again. He walks out of the portal to stride across the floor, making for the bed. A massive super-king-size that occupies almost the entire wall of the room. It’s covered in acres of black velvet. As dark as his eyes.

  He reaches the foot of the bed, then swivels around to sit on it. The world tilts; my hair falls over my face. The fucker has me over his knees. My butt waves in the air.

  My stomach flip-flops. With anticipation? Anger, it has to be anger.

  A slap cracks over my behind.

  “What the hell?” I screech and try to pull out of his grasp.

  Whack, whack, whack.

  The sound of the slaps fills my ears; the heat from his touch pours into my blood. I squeeze my butt and shove my hips up. No, what am I doing? I don’t want more of this. Don’t. My thighs clench. My breath flutters in my chest and my cheeks flush. Everything inside me wants to scrunch up and die. But my body, my damn body wants more; it craves his touch. “Let me the fuck go.”

  WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.

  “You didn’t just do that—”

  W-H-A-C-K.

  My body jolts forward, my breasts curve over the side of his thighs. The muscles of his legs dig into my waist. And to my horror, moisture trickles from between my legs. No way. I don’t find this exciting. He’s trying to humiliate me, not arouse me. I dig my fingers into his calf, and my nails slip out, hooking into his flesh. The scent of blood fills the air.

  W-H-A-C-K. W-H-A-C-K.

  The pain shoots through my blood, pouring into my head. My brain cells seem to catch fire all at once. Something inside me snaps.

  I drop into myself, diving into that shifter part of me.

  Raising my head, I scream. Flames pour from me. My neck elongates, scales break through my skin, and my toenails elongate. All of the energy radiates off me and slams into a barrier. Then everything dissipates. The fire shuts off. My body collapses.

  “What the fuck did you do?” Terror fills my blood. I have always shifted by instinct…except the one time I’d gone into full-blown panic mode. When my father had thrown me down on the floor of the attic and… I shove away the images that crowd my mind. My stomach heaves. I taste the acidic edge of bile on my tongue.

  I had trusted my father and he had betrayed me. I had set out to tempt Tristan, and he…he had whisked me away from the gathering without giving me a choice. Th
e worst thing is that I want him, I want what he has in mind for me. I don’t want to be given a choice. How screwed up is that?

  My muscles go rigid, then anger sweeps through me. I hit out, slam my fist into his leg, turn and bury my teeth into his thigh. Every part of me screams. I strain against his hold.

  He loosens his grasp, and I fall to the floor with a thump. On my back. I lie there at his feet, chest heaving. Sweat beads my forehead, and my hair is plastered to my cheek.

  His eyebrows furrow. “What was that about?”

  “What do you mean?” I swing up my legs and kick him in his side. Rolling away, I spring up to my feet, knees bent, fists raised in front of me.

  “You had a panic attack, Fire.”

  Fire, he called me Fire.

  A part of my mind registers that, then I let it go. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t matter.

  He’d spanked me all right. And I’d loved it. There. I admit it. He’d turned me on, and I want more. So much more. I want all of him. Want to feel him ramming into me. And I hate myself for it.

  I race to the sliding doors and, flinging them open, leap onto the decking. Racing to the edge, I clamber onto the parapet and stand there, poised. He is right. That had been a panic attack. And now I need to prove to myself that I can still shift. Only one way to find out. I jump.

  I tuck my arms into my sides, legs stretched back, my body as sleek as an arrow, and plummet.

  A scream tears out of me.

  I am not transforming, I’m not. What the hell is happening to me? I draw on that energy inside me and find there’s nothing. Emptiness, cold. The river below rushes up to meet me. Only then do I realize the house is built into the side of a cliff, and I am plunging to my death.

  Me, a dragon shifter, who soars the air currents, who knows what it is to live in the moment and see the entire world from a bird’s-eye view is going to die. I squeeze my eyes shut. The water is so close. Droplets fountain up from the river raised by my downward plunge. They streak over my skin.

  My hair pulls back over my ears. The wind stops whistling. The world tilts again, and the blood drains from my head. That’s when I realize I’ve stopped falling. I open my eyes to find I am rising through the air.

  Goosebumps flare on my skin. My teeth chatter. A warmth curls around me and sinks into my blood. The scent of smoky incense and pinewood surrounds me, soothes me. Darkness clings to the edges of my subconscious, and I slide under.

  When I open my eyes, his face fills my vision. Blue eyes flash at me. His chin is set. A pulse ticks above his jawline, and the skin is stretched tight over his features.

  My eyes skitter away from his, to take in my surroundings. I am on the bed, back in the room I’d just tried to escape from. “You teleported me back?” I cough, and my chest heaves.

  “You didn’t think I was going to let you escape so easily?" His tone is casual.

  I swivel to look at him. His gaze is serious, and a pulse ticks at his jaw.

  “Let’s get this clear—you don’t let me do anything.” I tuck in my lower lip.

  His eyes gleam, one side of his lips pulls back in a smirk, then he wipes all expression from his face. “That’s where you are wrong. My turf. My rules.” He watches me from under those hooded eyelids. Stalking me, waiting for my reaction.

  I frown. What’s his game? What’s he up to? “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to get a rise out of me.”

  “Seems I don’t want to see you all beaten by the world, Fire.” His brows knit, and he rubs the back of his neck.

  Huh? “What do you care?” I gnaw on my lower lip.

  “You are going to be my partner on this mission”—he tilts his head— “so your well-being is of primary importance. After all, it could mean the difference between life and death…for me.”

  Jerk.

  He reaches out an arm, and I wince. His features close. “Don’t go making me out to be something I am not.”

  He rises to his feet and jerks his chin toward the side table. I turn to find a glass of water on it. I sit up—he doesn’t try to help me this time, and that hurts me. I don’t understand why.

  He spanked me, stopped me from transforming, shoved me right over the edge of my control. I hate this man, I do, and yet, I want that sense of comfort he’d bled into me before I’d blacked out. Snatching up the glass of water, I tilt it to my lips and drink from it. When I lower the glass, he takes it from me, making sure not to touch my fingers, then he sets it aside. He straightens and, stepping away, paces.

  Back-forth-back. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t look at me.

  “Stop,” I croak. “You are making me dizzy.”

  He freezes mid-step, then fixes me with that blue gaze, “Who abused you?”

  All my life people have tiptoed around that issue. My mother had the guts to end her relationship and take me away from him, but she never brought up the topic, for it had been too painful. And this man…the one who’d barged into my personal space, who’d swung me up on his shoulder and brought me here…in just a few minutes he’d uncovered the most hateful secret of my past. My head spins.

  “Tell me, Fire.” His voice slices through the emotions bouncing around in my head.

  I bite my lips; pain fills my chest. “My father.” I force myself to speak. It’s the first time I’ve confessed it to anyone else. First time I’ve revealed what had happened to me, to shatter my growing years. And I’d done it to a complete stranger. Perhaps that’s what gave me the courage. The fact that I know he won’t judge me. That clearly, he has ghosts of his own.

  “He was human, yet he was alpha enough to dominate my dragon shifter mother.” Right, just get it all out there. Don’t stop. While you’re at it, tell him your favorite color, your hobbies, yeah, go for it. Bare your soul to him. It can’t get any worse, can it?

  His muscles tense. He swivels around and strides back to me, then squats next to the bed so we are at eye level. He curls his fingers at his side; the skin stretched over his knuckles is white. “Shifters, vampires… Fae, you name it. The scum that walks this earth, they were all in the orphanage where I came of age. They abused me, raped me. Before I was thirteen, I’d learned how to give a blow job and how not to scream when I was sodomized, for that would only worsen the situation.”

  4

  Tristan

  A-n-d there you have it.

  Once the words start flowing, it seems they will not stop. What is it about her that makes me want to share my deepest secrets? The part of me I’ve never revealed before. The secrets that are buried inside, writhing and clawing to get out?

  The color fades from her face.

  Her amber eyes deepen in color until they resemble twin beams of light. She can look straight into my soul, into what has been torturing me for so long. What drove me to sweeping her out of the gathering and bringing her here, to my space. My flat, where I’ve never brought any woman before.

  I spring to my feet and turn to leave.

  Her fingers wrap around my wrist.

  Her touch shivers up my arm. I straighten my spine but don’t dare look at her. If I do, she’ll see what I am feeling. That I am already regretting bringing her here. That now that I’ve brought her, I can’t let her go.

  I tug my arm, and she releases me.

  Walking to the door of the decking, I step through and onto the balcony. The river ripples far below. I look up at the hills on the opposite side of the ravine. At the dark clouds that gather, anywhere but at the woman curled up on my bed. My bed. Her scent, of cherries and something deeper, more sensuous, floods my senses. I stiffen. Then there is a soft thud on the decking, and she comes out and stands next to me. Not close enough to touch. Just enough for the wind to ruffle her hair so the strands fall over my shoulder.

  She pats the pockets of her shorts, then produces another lollipop. “Huh, guess that survived the fall, too, thanks to you.”

  Her voice is quiet. She’s trying to ease my conscience?


  “I was responsible for you diving into the river and trying to escape.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  I shoot her a glance.

  Tearing off the wrapping paper, she sucks on the sweet, then offers it to me.

  The scent of the candy unfurls around me. It reminds me of how her mouth tasted. Sexy. Potent. She is dangerous for me. And I am lethal to her.

  “I made a mistake in bringing you here.”

  Her fingers tremble, then she lowers the lollipop and plops it inside her mouth. Fuck. I tighten my hands over the railing. Gripping it, until the wood breaks the skin of my palm. A low pain shimmers up my arm, and I focus on it.

  “So that’s your way of dealing with the stuff that happened?” She slurps on that damn candy again.

  The sound makes my mouth water.

  She licks the lollipop then pulls it out with a wet plop.

  Fuck me already. My dick twitches. She’s doing that on purpose. As if she doesn’t know exactly how provocative the sight of her tongue curled around the candy is. I’d do anything, anything to have it curled around my shaft instead.

  “Fighting abuse with abuse. Not the smartest trick in the book.”

  Her voice slices through the thoughts scrolling in my head.

  I chuckle, and the sound comes out harsh.

  “My mother raised me,” she swallows. “She did everything that was needed: gave me food, shelter, homeschooled me. She never invited any other man to share her life after that. Made sure I was shielded from the male gaze. No prizes for guessing what happened when I left home. I discovered men, couldn’t get enough of the high that came from their attentions. I wanted it, craved it. Pursued it.”

  I glance at her from the corner of my eyes. Her profile is to me. Her jaw moves as she crunches on the lollipop.

  She swallows it down then shoves the stick into the front pocket of her shorts. “No prizes for guessing what happened next.” Turning around, she leans back against the railing. “The man I hooked up with, my ex-boyfriend, was the type to get his kicks with his fists.”