by Sadie Jacks
Crown of Smoke and Blood
Cursed by the King Book One
Sadie Jacks
© 2021 Sadie Jacks
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at [email protected]
Cover by Sadie Jacks
Editing by Niki Trento-Spencer
1st Edition
Other books by Sadie Jacks
Paranormal Reverse Harem Series
Iron Serpent Chronicles
Caged Magic
Wild Magic
Warring Magic
Broken Magic
Magic Freed
Circle of the Stars
Breakaway
Bonded
Brutal
Brilliance
Contemporary Romance
Amatucci Family
Chase the Pain
His Love is Pain
Sweet Pain
Needing Arturo
Loving Talia
Finding Domenico
Freeing Massimo
Keeping Raphael
Dedication
As with everything in my life, first praise goes to God. He’s a fantastic presence in my life. Without him, none of this would mean anything.
Niki and Cherrie, you two continue to astound and amaze me with your generous hearts, your humor, and your friendship. Thank you!
Val, Mary, Karly, Ashleigh, Tamara, Kat: you make me so happy to keep writing. Thank you for your support and encouragement.
A new addition, but no less important, Mr. Snow. You know what you do.
Mom and dad, another book you won’t read, but another accomplishment you are still proud of. Thanks so much for being exactly who you are.
TRIGGER WARNING
This book is for mature readers. Please be aware that there is talk of potentially triggering topics within this book with references and/or detailed descriptions of violence, physical, mental abuse, rape, suicide, murder, and other sensitive topics that some readers may find offensive.
Chapter 1 – Vari
Breath heaved through my chest as I heard them rush by me. Small vapors of steam escaped my mouth–dancing clouds in the night. I slapped a hand over my lips. Even under the cover of the thunderstorm and pounding rain, my pulse thudded through my ears, joining the symphony that raged around me.
Of course, the teams were out. I was a precious commodity after all. He wouldn’t let me go. He couldn’t afford to.
The cold bricks at my back were my anchor as my body ached and pleaded for mercy. I couldn’t stop. Not here. Not for hours yet. There was too much to gain by running. And staying…that would just see me in chains by morning and my head tumbling to the ground by nightfall.
I’d done it. Finally done it. Escaped. My heart pinched at the idea of the rest of them still there. But I would free them. I would make sure we all saw the sun together.
When it felt like the band around my chest had finally loosened enough to draw a full breath, I eased my head towards the corner. Looked down the alley. Nothing but dirty walls and trash. The whole thing smelled of piss and old alcohol mixed with a hint of ripe animal crap to give it that zippy zing of delightful assault on the olfactory senses.
The perfume of rain and that electrical burn of lightning hitting the atmosphere added a particular blend of disgusting to the evening’s activities. But in the end, it wouldn’t matter. Heck, I should probably get used to the idea of this becoming my life’s new signature scent. Desolation and dog shite.
Another crack of lightning lit up the small, dark alleyway. Even temporarily blinded, I saw him. There. Lurking in the spaces between the buildings.
A slow smile pulled at my mouth when I spotted him. I wasn’t as stupid as he assumed I was. Learning from the best did have its perks.
Skimming my hands down the leather pants that clung to my thighs like a second skin, I debated on my next move. Did I try to lure him into a trap or just keep running? If I chose option A, then I needed to find one miraculous trap. One that assured he would think twice before coming after me again.
I looked around the deserted street. In the early hours of the morning, not even the most industrious of us were up and about yet. Only those with secret plans and desperate dreams.
There was nothing here that could be considered a trap. Unless I wanted to stuff him full of rancid cakes from the abandoned bakery across the way.
I wasn’t a genius, but I doubted that would really be an effective use of my time. Not to mention trying to find a way to force said rancid cakes down his throat.
An image of me slicing him open and shoving his stomach full of the decaying desserts crossed my mind. I tipped my head, considering.
In the end, I shook my head. My short black locks slapped me in the face as I came to my senses. As appealing as that sounded, I just didn’t have the time—or the stomach for it.
Cackling like an idiot mentally, I did another survey of the area. Nothing. It seemed I would be getting some more cardio in for the evening. Morning. Whatever.
A whisper between the drops of rain alerted me.
I ducked as the sword whistled above me. So close I swore he gave me a haircut that just wouldn’t work with my style. But then again, he was the king of adding insult to injury.
Tucking into a roll, I came up with my dagger in hand. The matte blade wouldn’t give away my position in the pitch dark. But considering we could see just as clearly in the dark as we could during the day, I didn’t think it mattered much.
His wide smile as he turned to me just pissed me off. One blonde brow arched high, a taunt and a promise in the single feature.
I shrugged, unwilling to let my focus shift or be diverted. All of my planning and anguish came down to this night. This moment.
He pulled another short sword, started circling me. He towered over my smaller frame. I barely come up to the middle of his chest standing up straight.
He shifted, one foot crossing over the other as we moved under the howling sky. At least no one would hear the screaming when I killed him.
That would give me some extra time to get out of this place.
Hopefully.
His left shoulder dropped the slightest degree.
I lifted both arms, prepared for the tired attack. We’d fought too many times for me to fall for such an easy trap.
When his right sword slammed into the armor plating on my left arm, I smiled when he snarled.
After that first block, he came at me. Fast. Furious. Frenetic. He was no longer the leader of armies. A man of graceful movement and charisma. Not right now, at least.
No. Now he was a man possessed.
Deep inside, I smiled. Good.
We danced in the rain. Our swords clanged loud enough to rival the thunder. Sparks sizzled through the air as if we fought with lightning instead of weapons.
Within minutes my chest once again billowed for breath, a deep ache in my side, a grating presence in my mind. The moisture hovering in the night air made it hard to breathe. And the standing water on the streets slowed each of my steps.
But it caught at his boots as well, like a lover trying to keep him from leaving. His heavy ceremonial cloak had to weigh at least forty pounds as he continued to come after me. Like the sun chased across the sky from east to west, he was relentless as he pursued me.
The anger on his face tore at something inside me. But instead of ripp
ing at the love that should have been housed in my soul, he poked and jabbed at the protective barrier I’d created around the horror. The nightmare. The monster.
With each blow, that barrier thinned. Each slam of his blade against an armored part of my body created a chink in the cage of the beast I carried within me.
Exhaustion clouded my mind, made my steps clumsy. Made my arms feel like lead as they shook under the weight of the short swords I wielded. A moment. That was all I needed. An instant to breathe, to shake out the strain on my body.
Dancing away, I fought for that moment, that instant.
He didn’t chase me, although his gaze never left me. Under the howling rain and the booming thunder, I could hear his panting.
I shook out my shoulders, resettled my swords in my hands. I got distracted. The dumbest move I could have made.
I should have seen it coming. But I missed it. With a quick lunge and a hard downward swipe, he attacked. My weapons fell to the ground just as my belly dropped into my toes.
NO! It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not after all my planning. All of our suffering. He couldn’t win this easily.
Between one breath and the next, his short sword caressed the thin skin of my neck. The hard bite of iron had my flesh bubbling slightly against the blade. His blue and green eyes narrowed as he held me pinned against the wall. His whiskey scented exhale had me fighting back memories.
Horror and waking nightmares flooded my brain. Strips of flesh hung from a drying rod. Blood—both old and new—stained the walls. But the screams…the screams would always be a part of me.
Stay here, V. Don’t let him win. Not that easily. Not that quickly.
He leaned down until our noses were touching. His gaze flicked from side to side as he searched my face. A pucker appeared between his brows.
Confusion.
Anger.
Befuddlement.
His emotions wafted off of him as if he had words scrolling across his forehead. I felt each one. Stronger than the blows he’d rained down on me, his wordless oblivion as he stared into my face was the final strike against the barricade I’d created inside me.
Finally, the beast said from deep inside me. Freedom.
It rushed through me. Its essence filled my veins until it felt like I was burning from the inside out.
Flames ate through the tissues of my throat as it cauterized my vocal cords, morphing and melting them into something else. Something alien.
“You forget so easily, King Atavian,” the beast said with my mouth.
The man opposite me shook as his eyes widened. Fear replaced the other emotions.
The beast flicked its tongue over my now lengthened teeth as if it were trying to lap up every trace of flavor of terror that blossomed off the man in front of us.
From deep inside myself, I shuddered. Really, it was his fault. He’d done this. Made me like this. I was doing nothing but what he created me for. What he created me to be.
“Who are you?”
The beast snarled. Smoke drifted from my mouth as rage itched through my insides. Who am I? Who am I?
“You forget what you created,” the beast said.
King Atavian shook his head. “I didn’t create you.”
Both my beast and I laughed. Nodded. “Oh, but you did.” The decades and endless years I’d spent locked away rushed through me. He’d done more than create me.
The King of the Fae shook like a puppet at the end of a string dancing in the wind. He licked his lips. “No. I would have remembered making you.”
With those words, he sealed his fate. He wouldn’t die.
No. Not tonight. Not tomorrow.
His denial shot spikes of hatred through my brain. With a single thought, my nails stretched as they grew into claws. Sharper than a razor, they slid through his cloak and skin as if they were the pliant, soft flesh of an overly ripe peach.
The salty flow of his blood was a salve to the burning flesh of my fingers. My fatigue from earlier was gone in a moment. I lifted him high into the air, his blood joining the rain that fell from the sky.
One heated drop of his blood fell on our lips.
Our tongue flicked out, caught it. We shivered as it seemed to rewrite pieces of us from the inside. As if it knew exactly how our body was put together and how to unwrite it.
The blood of the king was the final piece. That missing ingredient. Everything and nothing changed in that instant.
I was still standing in the street on a rainy night with a split personality and some weird…thing taking up residence in my brain and body. My arm was still extended to the sky, the power of death and life within my grasp.
But no longer was I the sad and helpless creature, locked away for experimentation. No longer was I the abomination that shouldn’t have been born in the first place.
I was reborn.
And King Atavian would die.
By my hand.
I lowered the king until I could peer into his blue and green eyes. “By the end of this, my name will be the last thing on your lips.” Shaking him free of my claws, he clattered into the street like a bag of bones.
He groaned and clutched his middle. The scent of his blood was ambrosia, overlaying the night’s other aromas. A widening pool of blackest crimson spilled under his body as he lay there.
Heaving a couple breaths, it took him a minute to get himself under control. Squinting against the rain, he peered up at me from flat on his back. “Who are you?”
I smiled. “Variance A, Substrate Theta—Brachychiton.”
Under the sun-burnished gold of his skin, his face went pale.
My smile widened, and I nodded as recognition finally decorated his gaze. I crouched down and got into his face. “Your daughter. Vari.” I smashed my foot into his face. Watched with a smile on my own as blood leaked from his crushed nose and broken mouth.
Rolling him over, I pulled his cloak up and over his head. I hoped it was enough to give me some time to get the hell out of here. Taking up his weapons, I strapped them to my body as quickly as I could.
With my own swords back in my hands, I made my way to the mouth of the alleyway. Looked quickly in each direction. Now or never, V.
I stepped into the street and prayed to Danu as I never had before. Let my feet be swift, my presence unnoticed. Shield my heart and guard my path. The end.
Wait. Did prayers finish with ‘the end?’ Was that an acceptable ending? Or did I say Awoman? Kinda like Amen but, you know, lady style.
Doesn’t matter, just run, the beast said from deep within.
I nodded. It was probably right. So I ran.
And ran.
Ran some more.
And…yup…did some more running.
By the time I made it to the gateway, I could feel my muscles in my exhausted body quivering like boiling water. The burn of them almost stole my breath. But I’d made it.
Finally free.
I lifted my hand to the standing stones. Prayed that Danu would accept my passage. She and I were tight.
Kinda.
In that way that two people who’d never met but one slavishly stalked the other. Yeah, that kinda tight.
The gateway changed from a verdant green to a sky blue. This was it. My moment had finally come.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed into the magic. Pushed through it. It felt like cobwebs were sticking to every inch of my skin. That phantom pull and sticky slide against my flesh.
The magic was different this time. Stubborn. Hard. Unyielding. Shuddering, I pushed the sensations to the side of my mind. I wasn’t stopping now. And certainly not for anything so little as cobwebs.
Hours passed as I tried to make my way through the portal. Or at least it felt like hours. I know time didn’t move the same way between the worlds.
The feeling against my skin changed. No longer were they the silken strands of the arachnid. Now they were the stabbing push of thorns. Each time I pressed forward, another spike would gri
nd itself into my skin. Sink into my bones.
Thoughts of turning back invaded my mind. Was freedom really worth all of this?
Yes! the beast shouted from inside my soul. Freedom is everything. Keep moving or get out of the way so I can get us out of this place.
Pressing my lips together, I soldiered on. The beast was right. Anything was better than being stuck in the dungeons. Better than the stone slabs they laid us on as they used Earth’s sciences against us.
With the science and the magic, the Fae King had done unspeakable things to his own people. His own flesh and blood. In secret. How many of my brothers and sisters had died? How many had sacrificed their lives for his foolish bids for more power?
And not one of them had given King Atavian what he wanted.
Not until me.
And I was determined to keep the rewards of his efforts to myself until I used them to overthrow him. Then his crimes would be made public. He would stand guilty in front of the people he claimed to cherish.
Then he would die.
Struck down by the weapon he built to destroy.
I sucked in a breath as the thorns grew teeth and started munching on my bones with each step. Grimacing against the pain, I cried out, but continued to press on. Nothing would stop me. And anything that tried would become a casualty in the war against my father.
The world went gray and wobbly around me. Each step was a practice in self-inflicted torture. Each breath was a testament to my stubbornness, and a gift to the gods of smoke and blood.
I stumbled. My shout of pain nothing more than a whimper as all of my breath was focused on inflating my charred lungs. I could do this. I had to. For all of us. For my lost brothers and sisters who had never had a chance to survive.
For Faery.
For me.
