In Malice (The Stolen Queen Book 1)

by A. M. Hodges

  They were right. An hour before the War Council, the three of us stumble into the cabin, escorted by Lucah and his father. Connelly St. James is like a big ole pineapple, all prickly and hard edges on the outside but soft and squishy on the inside. Him and Lucah kept watch over us at the tavern to make sure we didn't get into any trouble and then kindly escorted us home.

  "Do you know the kind of ruckus these three were making?"

  Connelly chortles.

  "They were quite entertaining. Reyna decided to explain what a fire dancer is and Josie decided that she wanted to try it... on the bar in a room full of warriors," Lucah glares at us as we highfive and collapse into a heap of giggles on my cot.

  "And then our Queen here influenced everyone with her abilities to make them all insanely happy and excited while she stood on the bar and yelled 'Are you not entertained!' Yanna worked her way through the crowd with a tip jar as they all cheered," Connelly finishes. Jeb curses under his breath while Josiah fights to keep the grin off his face. Josiah moves to the small table and grabs three waiting mugs before bringing them over to us.

  "Yeah, we made some damn good money too, until Mr. Glares-A lot over there took our jar and gave it back," Yanna shakes her finger a Lucah, "We aren't all Queens you know! I could have used that money."

  "Drink this, you heathens, we have a War Council to attend," Josiah hands us each a mug. Yana mumbles something in Malatian that roughly translates to "donkey fucker" as she takes a mug from him. Within minutes we are all completely sober with no lingering effects of a pesky hangover.

  "That Rashana is an angel," Yanna sighs dreamily, "I'm going to need to stockpile some of that magic juice of hers."

  "Let's go, we have a War Council to get to," Jeb commands with a look that promises we'll discuss this later. It takes all my effort to hide my smile, because I am very much looking forward to that conversation. His discussion tactics are always quite satisfying.

  Two hours later and everyone has been briefed. Pawns are moving around the board to try and figure out the positioning of our scouts while we discuss the intel that we need in order to pull this off. The seven teams have been decided. Brenjun and Maddox, Josie and Yanna, Miles and Dahlia, Lucah and Sage, Jeb and Connelly, Josiah and a Commander named Isaac. Apparently, he's a Griffin if the long golden locks tell me anything.

  The final team will be me. Just me.

  "Are there any Mages with the Shvetlani?" I wonder aloud.

  "A few," Connelly answers, "Why?"

  "Well, I've been thinking," I start.

  "Oh really? You've been thinking? When? In between

  Gladiator impersonations?"

  I glare at Jeb and he hides a cheeky grin behind his hand as I continue, "I will feel better if each team has a Mage with them, for cloaking purposes. Glamour just isn't enough in this situation and I don't want to leave anything up to chance."

  "That can be arranged. I'll have seven Mages briefed and ready."

  "Six. Six Mages. I go in alone," I demand. If the look on Josiah's face and the fury I feel rolling off Jeb is any indication, I will definitely get an earful for this later. But not now, they wouldn't dare question me in front of the others, mates or no mates.

  I am their Queen.

  "There is no sense in sending a Mage with me when I am the last to go in and I will have all of you plus six Mages waiting for me. It's a waste of resources and an unnecessary risk."

  "As you will it, My Queen, it shall be done," Connelly bows his head.

  "Good. Now, the War Council is adjourned. Scouts will leave in the morning and exactly one week from tomorrow, we make our move."

  ∞∞∞

  "So let me get this straight," I growl in barely contained rage, "No one has bothered to check the Royal Residence until we sent our scouts three days ago, and no one noticed that the Royal Guard has been replaced with Fae from The Mists? Or how long they have been there?"

  I knew what they were the minute the scouts turned in their first report. The furs in place of Malatian armor were a dead giveaway. The King is protected by the same Fae that attempted to murder me and Jackson, which means that he is officially the one that ordered our deaths. Blinding fury burns through my body as I try to maintain my composure.

  I have spent months trying to figure out a way to save my brother. I have come up with every excuse and found a way to place the blame on anyone and anything but him, swearing that he could be saved. But I was wrong. The Rune I was trying to save is long gone and has been since long before I returned to the realm. This changes everything.

  "We still have four days. Continue to monitor their routines. I want to know everything about the King. I want to know where he is and what he does every single second of the next four days. That's all for now, you're dismissed." They all bow in respect and exit the room until only the triplets are left. Josiah and Jeb both stand on either side of me with a hand on my shoulder in support.

  Josie looks at me with sympathy in her eyes.

  "What does this mean?" Josiah urges gently.

  "It means, that this is no longer a rescue mission," my voice hardens as I look up at them, "The King just ensured his execution." Their fingers work in small circles in an attempt to massage the tension from my shoulders and keep me calm but I shrug them off.

  Josie stands and moves to exit the room.

  "Where are you going?" Jeb asks tiredly.

  "I have to see Rashana about something," she answers cryptically without looking at us and then pushes out of the door.

  She's hiding something.

  I can feel it. I didn't even have to cast out for her emotions. Her nerves are so potent that they practically drown me. What I don't feel though, is deception. Not that I thought I would, I trust Josie with every fiber of my being. Whatever is going on with her right now, is personal. She put up a good front, but I noticed her fidgeting during the meeting, even if no one else did. Whatever it is, she'll tell me when she's ready.

  "Come on," Josiah squeezes my shoulder, "You're angry, and you have every right to be. But you need a healthy outlet for that anger. Let's go train."

  "I'll come too," Jeb insists, "We'll be your punching bags for the day, and then you can rest."

  I spend hours in the training grounds. Pushing myself until sweat drenches my skin and my muscles nearly give out. When I am finally too tired to think, or feel, I stumble towards the cabin with Jeb and Josiah in tow. For all that it's worth, they look just as drained as I do. I definitely gave them a run for their money which fills me with pride. I've come such a long way from the girl who showed up on the mansion's doorstep.

  As we climb the steps to the cabin, Jeb stops short of the door. He gives me an easy smile when I turn around in confusion.

  "I am going to go to the tavern to get us some food," he leans in and softly kisses my cheek, "I'll be back in a little while."

  Something passes from him to Josiah through their twintuition before he turns and walks back down the steps. Josiah walks through the door and holds it open for me to walk inside. I am too tried to even try to decipher what unspoken agreement just passed between them, so I trudge inside and collapse facedown onto my cot. A tap on my shoulder has me peaking open my eyes.

  "Head up," Josiah whispers and he helps me lean up so he can sit down. Once he's comfortable, I situate my head onto his lap, and he begins untangling my hair from its braid before running his fingers through it. My eyes roll back into my head as he starts massaging my scalp and a moan escapes my throat. Josiah laughs

  lightly.

  "Feel good?" I can hear the grin in his voice.

  "Feels freaking amazing," I grumble incoherently. After a few more minutes I sit up and turn to face him as I cross my legs in front of me. He smiles gently and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear.

  "Are you alright, mo runsearc?"

  "At first, I was angry. I was so angry I couldn't see straight, knowing that he is the one that ordered the hit on Jackson. I wasn't even angry
that he came after me, but Jackson was innocent in all of this. The only thing he did wrong was love me," I blink away the tears threatening to fall.

  "And now?"

  "Now, it just hurts. And all I want is for something to make it go away," I flick my gaze from his eyes to his lips and then back up again. His emotions war behind his eyes as he searches my face. My eyes drop to his mouth again and I reach up a lightly run my thumb over his bottom lip. We have only kissed the one time, but the heat of it is permanently seared into my brain.

  My touch triggers something in his gaze and his eyes fall shut as he shivers. I move my thumb from its position on his lip and begin trailing my fingertips down the scar that gives him such brutal beauty. When his eyes open again, there is a heat in them that sends goosebumps across my skin and my breathing quickens.

  "Are you-"

  "Shut up and kiss me," I demand as I grab onto his shirt and yank him towards me. All the fight leaves him when his lips meet mine. What started out as tentative quickly turns into a fight for dominance as his fingers delve into my hair and I maintain a firm grip on his tunic. With inhuman speed, he flips me onto my back and breaks our kiss long enough to yank his tunic over his head before returning his lips to mine in a frenzy of tongues and teeth.

  I lean up and pull my cotton tank over my head and he kisses a path down my belly as his fingers deftly pop open the clasp to my pants. With a savage grin, he yanks them down my legs. Starting at my ankle, he kisses his way up my leg, stopping to softly nip the crease where my leg meets my sex before soothing it with his tongue. A moan is dragged out of me as my body shivers, my hands desperately grabbing at his shoulders and trying to pull him back up to my lips.

  His breath fans over my sex as he laughs, causing me to shift around as he starts nibbling on my hip bone. One of his hands travels up to massage my breast as the other disappears between us, his fingers working expert circles over my clit as her tweaks my nipple between his other thumb and forefinger, causing me to cry out.

  He dips two fingers inside of me and pumps them in and out a few times before pulling them out and shifting back to sit on his knees. I whimper at the loss of contact, but he only smiles seductively, bringing the two fingers to hip lips before slipping them into his mouth. The low groan that escapes his throat sends a fresh wave of heat to my core, my pupils dilating as I watch him savor the taste of me, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

  “So, fucking sweet,” he rasps huskily as his eyes travel over my naked body.

  “Come. Here,” I command, unable to stop the glamour from slipping into my voice.

  In a blur of motion, his lips crash into mine again and I fumble fervently with his pants, my palms trembling as I work to pop the clasp and push them down over his hips. He peals his body away from mine long enough to kick them the rest of the way off before covering my body with his own once again, yanking one of my legs up to wrap around his hip. Without warning, he slams into me as he bites and sucks on my neck.

  I scream into his shoulder, my nails digging into his back as he pistons his hips into me, his pace never slowing. I wrap my other leg around his hip, crossing my feet at the ankle behind his back as I hold on for dear life against his brutal thrusts. He reaches between us and flicks his thumb over my clit once and I scream his name as white-hot pleasure erupts inside of me, spots dancing across my vision as I climax. I’m still riding the wave of my orgasm when he thickens inside of me, tensing as he slams inside of me once more and comes with a low groan.

  When we collapse into a heap of sweaty limbs, I feel the familiar snap of the bond falling into place just before I am flooded with emotions and all things Josiah. His life and knowledge flashes through my eyes in a fast-forwarded picture show as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest.

  "Sleep now, mo runsearc," he whispers as he kisses the top of my head. The translation is the last thing that pops into my head before my eyes close and I fall into the darkness of sleep.

  My beloved.

  Chapter 48

  There was no instant advancement in my abilities after I completed the mating bond with Josiah. Rashana insists that it's because we haven't undergone the traditional mating ceremony yet that needs to be performed by the High Priestess. Not many of the Fae do it anymore, the tradition being unnecessary in most cases, but it is different for us. If all goes well tonight, the ceremony is set to happen two weeks from now so that our family can be present.

  As the sun sets below the horizon, we climb the mountain to the Royal Residence waiting at its peak. It stands in the shadows of the moon, daunting in its size and in the corruption that lies within it. The sheer size of the thing along with its opulence makes it more of a castle than their humble terminology indicates. With a final kiss from my mates, we break off to move into position. After a last calming breath, I move to my hiding place in the shadows and await my signal.

  I have hardened my heart and steeled my nerves. Anger courses through my veins like hot, liquid metal, forging my body and spirit into something unbreakable. I refuse to be overcome by the heartache and pain that will surely follow this night, pain that will only serve to fuel the flames of my fire. I have spent every available moment staring at the strategy map that laid out our plan. Every person and their position have been committed to memory. We spent days trying to play out and memorize every situation and outcome possible. Each team has their instructions.

  Ten more minutes until the guards rotate and the first team moves in. Each team will receive a signal before moving in on their target. If everything goes as planned, the court will fall like dominos.

  Like clockwork, the guards begin their rotation which gives Brenjun and Maddox their signal. I wait in the darkness with all three bonds wide open, silently funneling our powers into each other. We figured out that with the trifecta of our mating bonds, the tiarkye bond between Jeb and I now extends to Josiah.

  After minutes that feel more like hours, a glowing rune appears before my eyes, the agreed upon signal sent by the Mages on each team. I stick to the shadows as I move in on the castle.

  Entering through the servants' quarters, I make my way through the halls towards the throne room. Twice I have to slink back into the shadows to avoid being seen by kitchen maids returning to their chambers from dinner.

  I finally reach the throne room without being seen and without interference. One last deep breath and I push open the doors. Rune is waiting for me, lounging on his throne with his chin resting in his hand and a smirk on his face, looking completely unperturbed by the fact that I am standing in front of him right now.

  "Hello, sister," he croons, "Welcome to the party."

  With a wave of his hand, swirls of mist begin to spread through the room. When the mist clears, over a dozen Fae resembling the one I met in the human realm appear around the room. Each one is restraining a member from the teams that entered the castle before me. Fury pours out of Jeb and Josiah in waves, but it's what I sense underneath the fury that startles me. Terror.

  Complete and utter terror. For me.

  "It's a pity that you sent your warriors to dispatch my court," he pretends to inspect his fingernails flippantly, "I was greatly looking forward to doing it myself. It's not nice to spoil all my fun, dear sister."

  I draw my daggers and take a step towards him, but he waggles his finger at me.

  "Ah, ah, ah. Wouldn't want something to happen to your friends over there, now would we? Or your mates," his smile is cruel, "Besides, I have a surprise for you. Call it a welcome home present."

  He snaps his fingers, and my blood runs cold. Appearing out of thin air, shackled and chained to the floor on his knees at Rune's feet, is Jackson. He is bloody and beaten, but he still holds onto his strength as he glares up at Rune defiantly. He didn’t come willingly, or without a fight based on what I can see of the damage on his knuckles.

  "What have you done," I growl at Rune, rage being the only thing that is suppressing the tremor in my voice.r />
  "Me? I have done nothing," he feigns innocence, "You did this. You forced my hand. Traveling across the continent turning my warriors against me and plotting to steal my throne."

  "I didn't turn anyone against you. You did that all on your own by allowing your abominations to run around attacking and murdering your people," I seethe.

  "Fine, then call this an escape hatch with mutually assured destruction," he grins triumphantly, "You can't get to me without sacrificing the human, and you can't get to the human without sacrificing your warriors which leaves you no choice but to let me go."

  "That's not happening," I say through clenched teeth.

  "Oh, it isn't? Very well then, let's play a game. The game is Who Gets to Survive. Pick one, and only one, because that will be all you will be able to save by the end of this anyways. Who's it gonna be?" he leans forward like this is the most exciting this he's done all year, "Is it the human? Do you save the man who loved and raised you for eighteen years? No, no that's not it. How about our dear little brother? Or maybe one of your mates? My goodness how difficult it would be to choose between them. Don't you think?"

  My mates growl menacingly behind me and the fucker winks at me, like this is really a game for him. Fucking psychopath is enjoying this.

  "How about the sister who's hiding a dirty little secret?" Lucah growls now, his animalistic nature pushing close to the surface as his eyes flash between feline and normal.

  "I choose them all," I raise my daggers and focus on channeling the water in the blood of the Fae holding my warrior’s captive. With half a thought from me, it begins to boil, sending cries of pain erupting all over the throne room as they release their holds. My warriors don't waste time, dispatching them while they are distracted and then falling into a defensive formation behind me.