by A. K. Koonce
Until it’s not.
“Mmm, you still have to help Dax and Ryder.” At the sound of her words, my palms halt against her smooth abdomen.
“Dax and Ryder?”
My tongue strokes along hers until she moans into me. Her lips tip up in a smirk against my mouth and I try my best to kiss away her words.
But she doesn’t allow it.
“Ryder and Dax are still reading to Celeste downstairs.”
Celeste. Tomas is the easy one. They’re similar in appearance, but one is a little darling and one is a little asshole.
Just like her father.
“I think we have a few minutes to spare,” I whisper against her mouth before raking my teeth across her bottom lip.
Her sparkling eyes narrow on me but a hint of a smile pulls at her mouth. I’ve always been able to do that to her; piss her off and make her crazy all at the same time.
Her small hand tugs at mine while we make our way downstairs.
“That’s right, then the gorgeous princess let down her long hair and not one, but three glorious knights rescued her from the towering tower.” Dax’s overly enthusiastic voice carries through the dark living room.
He’s a great dad. Just like I knew he’d be. Kara thinks Dax helps me. He makes me a better father.
He does more than she’ll ever know though. He makes me a better person.
Just like she does.
“Did they really rescue her though if she had to help them up the tower?” Kara folds her arms across her chest and my brother smirks at her from over his shoulder. “She probably could have rescued herself.”
Ryder stands from the couch, stretching his arms high above his head.
“The princess definitely could have just rescued herself. But not everyone’s as self-reliant as you are, beautiful.” Ryder winks at her and she rolls her eyes at him.
Dax stands slowly and a small girl who looks so much like him is asleep in his arms. Dark hair fans across Celeste’s angelic face.
She’s so much sweeter when she’s asleep.
Kara presses her lips to Celeste’s forehead, pushing back the child’s unruly hair as she goes. The three of us trail behind Dax. Every small creak of the stairs makes my heart stop.
I just want sleep. Being a father is amazing. But no one tells you that you’ll never sleep again.
Like terrified ninjas, we take her to their bedroom. A dim light shines against the floor of the tiny room. A nightlight to keep away the monsters as Kara likes to say. I don’t know why. Kara would fucking destroy any monster that ever threatened their lives. She doesn’t take my shit, she’s certainly not going to give monsters a fighting chance.
Dax tucks Celeste into the bed that sits right next to her brother’s.
Celeste turns in her sleep until she’s facing Tomas, their small hands just inches apart.
I can’t help but feel my heart storm to life every time I look at them.
Kara leans her head back into my chest and I waste no time wrapping my arms around her. She calms me when I don’t even realize I need it.
Before we met, I never realized I was missing a beautiful train wreck like Zakara Storm.
Sometimes it seems surreal.
I don’t deserve any of it.
I never expected in all of my long and lonely existence to have beautiful children. Or a beautiful family.
Or a beautiful life.
The Hopeless End
Short Author Note
This was the final book to a series I didn’t want to end. I love everything about Kara and kind of want to be her when I grow up. ;)
She’s inspired more kickass Fae in my life, though. My newest reverse harem Fae series is finally on amazon! Hell has no fury like a Fae possessed in this new series!
Turn the page for an advance sneak peek of Hellish Fae!
For more new release updates, special deleted Hopeless scenes, and giveaways join my newsletter or Facebook group!
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Reading Between Realms Group
Chapter One
Possessive
Everyone has that little voice in the back of their minds that gives good advice like don’t tell them that it’ll hurt their feelings, say thank you, and don’t forget to smile.
Mine, it doesn't say any of that Hallmark shit.
Aries, you have drunken vomit in your hair. Again.
Aries, if you fantasize about unwrapping a Reece’s one more time, we're going to have to start considering it foreplay and fetish behavior.
Aries, it’s seven a.m., and your vibrator is still rattling around the blankets like a disgruntled lover searching for a warm mouth.
Yeah . . . I only get the really good advice from the cunt of a poltergeist at the back of my mind.
Because I'm possessed.
I fucked up one little time on a midnight run with the Shadow Guard, and now I’ll spend the rest of my days exiled into the human realm and left with my only and sweetest friend.
Aries, you’re snoring so loudly you’re going to wake the dead. Trust me, I am the dead. The bitter voice at the back of my mind keeps complaining, but my eyes crack open slowly, and it takes me a second to focus through the pounding hangover drilling into my thoughts.
A sliver of demanding sunlight judges me from the tilted hanging curtains on the angled rod on the far side of my bedroom.
“Alexa, what time is it?” I ask the human’s knowledge keeper.
A blue light illuminates the dimly lit room as a smooth digital voice answers me. “Three p.m. Eastern Standard Time, Bad Bitch.”
Alexa is truly taken for granted here. She knows everything. EV-ERY-THING. Do the humans thank her? No. Never. She’s as appreciated as I was in my kingdom.
Snort one little line of demonic cremations, get possessed, and try to burn down your kingdom’s forest for impulsive newfound religious beliefs—and all of a sudden, I’m an embarrassment to our people.
Whatever. I’m better off.
My poltergeist, my digital friend Alexa, and I don’t need them.
“Alexa, play a song,” I say groggily.
Heavy base storms through the room so loud that the dark blackout curtains dance.
“Thank you,” I mumble into my pillow.
“You’re welcome, Bad Bitch,” she says right back without emotion, but I can feel it. She’s always there for me.
She’s the only one I need, anyway.
I push off the mattress lying in the middle of the room, and my legs stumble over the mound of clothes with endless price tags still clinging to their threads.
The humans who own this beach house return in the warm months. I have a few more weeks of spring before I have to clean this place up and sneak out. I like pawing through their expensive clothes, though. It’s an easy way to pass the time.
Sometimes it feels as though all of this is mine. And I need all this stuff out where I can see it. It’s like décor really. It’s multipurpose: clothing and décor.
Win-win.
I smile down at my little hoard of blouses, jeans, and shiny necklaces. Then I slink right past it all in just my Daddy’s Girl shirt and panties and stumble into the bathroom. It’s my favorite worn-out shirt. My fuck you shirt, if you will.
Not that anyone drops by my hidden-away coastal home in Mystic, Connecticut for me to flat out tell them “Fuck you,” to their faces, but . . . Karma knows, and that’s all that matters.
Hateful lights flicker on the moment my foot touches the warm tile floor. The harsh brightness of the room tries to wake me up, but the bottle waiting for me near the toilet fights off the violent colors stabbing into my vision.
I toss the cap off the bottle of amber liquor. The moment the glass touches my lips, her voice slithers into my head again.
It’s three p.m., for Hell Lord’s sake, Catherine the Cunt says.
I don’t actually know if her name is Catherine.
But she is definitely a cunt.
So .
. .
I can basically guess what judgmental thing she’ll snark into my mind with. She’s possessed me for over three years now. This morning, I’m surprised she’s stuck around this long. Alcohol usually gets her to shut up.
If I push her too much, or if she feels danger, she will come out. And I do not want her to come out. I don’t have the energy for her today. Luckily, any distraction calms her into the silence of the back of my mind. Just the basics like alcohol, a warm bath, orgasms, anything that gets me out of my own thoughts, gets her out of my own thoughts.
Don’t you want to do something today? You haven’t stepped outside in ages. You haven’t even called on that demon friend you like so much, she chastises.
At the thought of my “demon friend” I flinch. He’s not my friend. He’s an incubus. And yeah, he’s a good time, but he’s also a spy. And I don’t need someone from my father’s realm spying on me.
Even if he does have magical orgasm-inducing fingers.
“No.” I toss back a long drink. It burns but in the best way possible.
The burn means she’ll be gone soon. And my mind will be my own again.
Oh, come on, Aries!
I hate when she says my name like that. Like my father used to. Filled with disappointment and pity.
You haven’t done anything in months.
“That’s not true.” Wow, my defense really needs some work. Alexa and I should practice comebacks later. A little “Your momma’s so . . .” How does it go again?
I’ll ask Alexa. She’s smart. She’ll know.
Oh, I forgot. You danced around to that explicit music in your underwear, cheered yourself on to do a line of shots, ate an entire frozen pizza alone—
“Alexa had some, too. I think,” I interject.
My mind’s a mess when she’s like this. I can’t think straight. My head already hurts from my own bad decisions, and she just makes it monumentally worse.
Threw up the shots, the pizza, and what appeared to be a half a bag of poorly chewed gummy worms, and then fell asleep with your vibrator in your hand before you could even do the deed, she finishes.
My lips part with outrage.
“You had your life. Stop judging mine!”
I would stop if you’d commit to actually having a life rather than running through this horrid cycle of nothingness.
My lips purse, bottle in hand, shining mirror flinging deep gray eyes right back at me. My long silver hair is so messy, it’s just a tangle of strands hiding my pointed ears beneath. My features are familiar but . . . different. Tired. Worn. I feel so much older than my twenty-three years.
Stark black wings shadow over me, but their tips are also different now. Pure glinting silver caresses the edges of each one of my downy soft feathers. And my eyes, they shine with that silver as well. Like a magical eclipse circling the iris. I’ve been this way for years now. Ever since my snorting mistake with Catherine the Cunt.
Stop calling me that, she adds.
As if she hasn’t nagged me enough already.
I’m over it.
“Alexa. Turn up our song.” I can feel Catherine glaring into my soul. “And replay our song! I didn’t get to enjoy it the first time.” I chug the bottle, letting it slide down my throat for several seconds as the bass reverberates through my skull and into my soul until . . .
She’s gone.
Perfect.
I blink several times, but the pure white room still has a haze at the edges that I can’t seem to shake. My fingers tighten around my whiskey, and the two of us sway out the door. Clothes catch against my feet, but I don’t give them a second glance as I dance my ass down the dark hall to the swanky kitchen.
The sword that I once used every day of my life as a Shadow Guard is propped against the chairless table. I catch its hilt as my wings carry me up effortlessly. My wings are the one thing about me that seems to have control of itself. I might be a mess—and yes, I do know I’m a fucking mess—but my wings will never let me down.
I lower with ease until my feet meet the sticky tabletop. The solo of the song kicks up, and I’m so fucking ready. It’s my moment. Broadway isn’t ready for a shit show like this.
My legs shift, my hip jutting out as I grip the hilt with both hands and sing my fae heart out into the magical sword like it’s the only one listening.
Except it’s not.
The front door pounds open with a force that defies the air itself. A whirlwind of power blows me back, but my wings refuse to let me fall. My feet stagger against the teetering table, my hair pushing across my face, my heart drilling so hard I can barely breathe.
And then, big white wings fill my door way, cold cutting eyes sweep the dim room. The stranger spots me with a glare glinting his gaze.
My fingers fist around the hilt, no longer using it as a mock microphone but a weapon that I’d long forgotten.
Those enormous wings of his strike against the air with violent force. In seconds, he’s gripping my wrist that holds the sword. My other hand still holds my Jack Daniels like I’ll go down into the bowels of hell clutching my favorite whiskey.
His strength is a cracking hold that threatens to make me drop my blade, but fuck him if he thinks it’s that easy to disarm a former Shadow Guard. My beloved bottle of whiskey crashes into his dark hair, and the amber liquid sprays us both as glass cuts across my skin. His hold on me falters, and it’s just enough.
I fly back from him to safety, hovering inches from the high ceilings and sizing his big body up. Like I could actually compare, with all the weight I’ve lost over the years. His big palm skims the blood running down his temple before he pulls back to look at it on his fingertips.
I don’t know why pride burns through me at seeing his scornful scowl.
“Who the fuck are you?” I never lower but hold myself aloft above him.
From the safety of the space between us, I can really get a look at the intruder.
Dark hair lies messily atop his head. The faintest shadow of that darkness lines his hard jaw that he holds tightly together. And the brightest blue eyes glare up at me from beneath lowered brows. To top it off, he’s shirtless, with too many perfect lines veering down an impossibly hard chest.
He’s attractive in every way, but I can’t explain why he’d come blazing in here looking to die a good death when he has such a handsome life he could be leading.
Being an alluring fae myself has taught me that beautiful people are reckless. And this man, he’s got chaos written all over him.
“Your wings are black.” He notes the obvious, pulling a sword from over his shoulder. I can only assume his perfect ass cheeks were holding it in place for him.
Seems a little impractical, but I’m not the judgmental type.
The blade gleams to life with shining white light that’s too intense to look at directly. The glow of it pierces the dimness of the room, pulling my attention to a swift movement behind me, and then I spot him . . .
A second too late.
Another man grips my bare foot, and with mighty strength, he pulls the air from beneath my wings and slams me to the tile floor. Pain shoots through my arms as they’re jerked tightly back beneath my wings. Something rises within me like vomit at the back of my throat.
Except she’s worse.
No! No! No!
A smoky face screams out from my own, a shuddering image of a woman I’ve never really met before, but I know all too well. My limbs are barely my own when Catherine makes an appearance. She lashes out in flickering movements that wrenches my spine into an agonizing arch that isn’t at all natural. I see the stranger spring away from me as Catherine pulls my head back and looks him in the eye upside-down.
I hate when she does this.
She is so dramatic.
“What the fuck?” The man stumbles away from my twisted body.
The moment there’s a safe amount of space between me and him, Catherine sinks back into the darkness of my soul. I slump to the ground,
my energy waning from her appearance.
Everything settles within me, but this just seems to set the winged man more on edge. The bass of the music tenses his shoulders, and his jaw grinds hard.
“What is that fucking sound?” He spins, and my eyes grow wide when his gaze locks on the blue glowing speaker on the messy kitchen counter.
“No!” I scramble on the sticky tile floor, but I’m not fast enough.
His beaming white sword arcs up with perfect swiftness and crashes into Alexa. Plastic rains around the room, clattering against the dark cabinets and scattering to the ground as he heaves a breath that doesn’t seem to calm him at all.
Silence drops.
That bastard!
My wings swing out, and my body collides with his, sending us both to the ground. My nails bite into his skin. His hands grapple with mine. He flips me, and the winged man dominates above me in seconds. Once more, my wrists are jerked back harshly, and I try my best to fight him off. My feet crash capriciously against him. It isn’t enough. The more I struggle, the more his hold on me tightens. Scorching heat sears into my wrists as an iron lock clicks in place in the midst of my screaming and thrashing. My teeth clench from the pain, and a dampness prickles behind my eyes that I refuse to give in to.
The two strangers lift me, and I’m gasping for an unreachable breath—just as I was the day that my father dragged me away from my kingdom.
The exact same thoughts are in my mind now as they were then.
Even when I’m beaten down to my lowest, I’ll never let them see me cry.
Get your copy of Hellish Fae HERE!
Also by A.K. Koonce
Reverse Harem Books
Origins of the Six
Academy of Six
Control of Five
Destruction of Two
Wrath of One
The Hopeless Series
Hopeless Magic
Hopeless Kingdom
Hopeless Realm
Hopeless Sacrifice
The To Tame a Shifter Series
Taming
Claiming
Maiming
Sustaining
Reigning
