by Lexi Johnson
He knew there were some in the court – even among the Bright Elves -- who might consider the Dark Elven King’s solution to be a reasonable one. Mortals were seen by most elves as curiosities, at best. And, in fact, before Aranion had known Sade – before he had found himself bound to a mortal -- he might have held much the same opinion.
But now he could feel Sade burning inside him, the unending fire of her life, her feelings and her history. He couldn’t even conceive of the monstrousness of seeing a thing of such beauty snuffed out, as if it were a candle flame.
He said, again, firmly, trying to put his conviction in his body and voice: “Sade is mine. Any attack on her body is an attack on mine, and I will treat it that way.”
“Then, young prince,” the Dark Elven King said, his voice suddenly more threatening, “you have broken your word to my daughter -- a promise of breath and bond.”
Aranion flinched, but he looked the Dark King in the eye, head held high. After all, he couldn’t deny the King’s words.
“And,” the Dark King said, “she has the right to restitution.” Aranion felt a flicker of alarm run through him. Coming from the Bane Sidhe, this couldn’t be good.
The Dark Elven King turned to his daughter. “Lairelithoniel,” he said, “what is your price?”
Lairelithoniel looked into the air for a moment, as though thinking. Then one side of her mouth quirked up in a cruel smile.
She said, “Will you hear me, Master Justicius, and decide?”
The Justicius nodded, in a rustling shift of crimson robes.
Lairelithoniel turned to Aranion. He black eyes were glittering.
“Aranion,” she said, “you have taken my future and happiness from me.” That seemed highly unlikely, but Aranion said nothing.
“I shall pay you back in kind,” Lairelithoniel went on. “We will keep your mortal.”
“No!” Aranion’s heart began to pound. He held Sade tight to him, and pleaded to the silent Justicius. “Justicius Faelon, no! They’ll hurt her, main her, and kill her. That’s what they do with their playthings. How is that any kind of justice?”
Lairelithoniel also turned to the Justicius. “I swear,” she said, “before you and by all the Gods, that those of our court will cause Aranion’s mortal neither injury nor death. We will not starve her nor beat her, nor even force her to work. She will live as a lady in our court, and be afforded the same regard.” She looked back at Aranion, her eyes fierce and triumphant.
“Keep your soul-bond to this creature, prince,” she said, “for the entirety of her life. But you will not have her. That is my price.”
The Dark Elven King turned to Justicius Faelon. “Is not this fair?” he asked.
The crimson robes swayed heavily as the Justicius took a ponderous step forward, his cane tapping once on the wooden floor.
He lowered his cowl, revealing the traces that heavy centuries of dispensing justice had left on his bare, scarred face. His hair was a mix of light and dark, a cross between the moonlight and gold of the Sidhe, and the ever-black of the Bane Sidhe. His eyes were milky white and sightless -- except when called upon for formal judgment. Now they darkened until they became as black and empty as a starless night.
The Justicius blinked once. He said in a sonorous voice that held more strength that seemed possible for a man his age: “It is just.”
Aranion couldn’t breathe. What justice could there possibly be, in separating a soul-bonded couple out of spite? If they tried to take Sade from him, he would fight with all his strength -- would hunt her down through all the worlds and all of time until he got her back…
But it was already too late. The Justicius pointed his staff at Sade.
Though Aranion tried with all of his strength and magic to hold onto his bonded mate, no single elf could match the strength of the Justicius’ order.
Sade screamed his name, once, as the magic wrenched her from his arms. It dropped her at Lairelithoniel’s feet, kneeling and shivering. The princess placed one hand on Sade’s head, and threw Aranion a terrible look of glittering triumph.
“No!” Aranion cried out. But the Justicius’ magic pinned him in place. All he could do was watch as Lairelithoniel and the Dark Elven King disappeared – and took Sade with them.
End Of Book One.
BOOK 2: Birds and Prey
Book 2 of the Claimed Series
Chapter 1: Jeweled Crows
Wind swept from the peaks of the Hell’s Teeth, up through the red and gold leaves of the treetops that housed the elven court of Edenost.
To Lady Sade, known to most as Laire’s Pet or sometimes Little Bird, the wind seemed an endless weeping. She woke to the wind’s sobs, ate and performed her duties as Princess Lairelithoniel’s handmaiden in the whisper of the wind’s lament, and, when, she curled up at night in a sumptuous pile of pillows at the foot of the princess’s bed, the wind haunted Sade’s dreams.
Though the wind frightened her, she also found it comforting. It was the only constant in her life here. And, while she didn’t understand why the wind mourned, she empathized with its pain, as she carried a similar, nameless wound in her own heart.
Princess Lairelithoniel -- or Laire, as most called her -- had commanded Sade to be dressed appropriately for the midmorning feast.
Sade stood in the center of the princess’s dressing chamber, while the lower courtiers swept around her, a flock of crows ordering Sade to move this way and that as they draped her in silk and jewels. She would have preferred to eat from her tray in the princess’s rooms, rather than be put on display in the Great Hall at the princess’s feet. Though Sade had been told her place as Laire’s handmaiden was one of honor, there was always a cruelty in the princess’s smiles, and an edge to her compliments that made Sade feel small.
She wished she could remember her life before the court -- before Edenost. But, the few times she’d dared ask, Laire had waved Sade’s concerns away, while the other elves had looked on with fear or pity, and said nothing.
“Oh, Little Bird, this will be so lovely in your hair!” Melda, differentiated from the others only by the shock of white running through her long, thick braid, held a jeweled comb in front of Sade’s eyes.
“Thank you,” Sade said. She was grateful for the kindness. None of the others even attempted to explain what they were doing, and, unlike those of the princess, Melda’s eyes didn’t shine with mirth whenever Sade felt confused or out of place.
Melda nodded. She pushed the comb into Sade’s short, thick curls.
Sade knew she didn’t look like the other elves. They were tall, with skin as pale as moonlight on water, black eyes with no differentiation between pupil and iris, and ears that drew up to tapered points. In contrast, Sade was brown, with a round face, round ears, and thick, wild brown curls.
Just as Melda set the last comb in Sade’s hair, and another elf tied the dress into place, the princess entered.
“Oh!” Laire said, raising her hand to her throat in an expression of delight. “Yes, that is almost perfect!”
The courtiers stepped back as the Princess Laire approached. They didn’t chatter amongst themselves as they had before; instead they huddled together in expectant silence.
“Yes…”
Laire cupped Sade’s face in both of her palms. As always, the princess’s touch sent pleasure through Sade’s body, making the inside of her pussy throb with need. “Your face is perfect,” Laire said, “and I love how the gold brings some vibrancy to your skin. It is quite lovely and soft.” She rubbed her thumb over Sade’s cheek. “If I could figure out how, I’d have this exact texture for my pillows.”
Trembling, Sade forced a smile.
As good as the princess’s touch felt, Sade hated it when Laire came this close to her. The pleasure beat a sharp counterpoint to the unending pain in Sade’s chest, and she had trouble breathing.
“But…” Laire tightened her grip and squinted at Sade’s lip
s. “What is this color? Burnished copper?! My pet needs something brighter, you fool!”
Laire released Sade’s jaw, leaving Sade breathless, her body a confused mix of alarm, disappointment, and relief.
The princess crooked her finger toward the group of courtiers. One stepped forward as though against her will. She held the errant stick of copper coloring in her hand.
“My apologies, my princess,” the elf said. She was small and pale. Her entire face was covered by a wave of inky hair, as she threw herself to her knees in front of Laire.
“Did you mean to shame me, Naira?” Laire let go of Sade’s face, and rested a hand atop the prostrate elf’s head. “Was that your plan? To make a fool of me…
Thank you for Reading!
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All the best,
Lexi
About the Author
Lexi Johnson lives most of her life in her head, but when she’s hanging in the mortal world, she enjoys karaoke, drawing, and playing with her five crazy cats. Lexi has always had a love of the fantastic and spent most of her teen years with her head buried in books. For as long as she can remember, Lexi has been penning stories to the page. As a biracial woman, she wants to bring some of her own perspective into the world of fantasy, and she hopes that readers of all backgrounds enjoy her steamy, character-driven fantasy romances.
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