Rogue's Wicked Harem

by Reed James

  Ava giggled. “She wants you to fuck her mother?”

  I grinned at the princess. “Doesn't every girl wish her mother to be satisfied?”

  A shudder ran through Ava, her eyes growing distant. Was she thinking of me and her mother? I never met her deceased mother, but Ava was said to possess her countenance. I pictured an older version of my blonde princess, lips plump, breasts larger, standing with that mature confidence of experience.

  My dick throbbed in Siona's pussy.

  Ava stood up. “I need to get my rest. Tomorrow, I have many plans to make.”

  I pulled out of Siona and swept Ava's body into mine. “You will take care. I don't want your father to hurt you.”

  “He wouldn't hurt me,” she said, looking away. “It's just... I need to get away from him. I need to be with you. I...” She stared at me, her lower lip trembling.

  “What?”

  She chewed her lower lip; looked away. “I'm just scared for you. I want to be with you. And then we can end this. His army is undone. He's scrambling.”

  I kissed her forehead. “We will end this. We struck him a huge blow. And as soon as Aingeal's free, we'll return and finish him off.”

  Hopefully, the phylactery of Biomancer Vebrin won't cause us any problems. One issue at a time. Once Ava ruled Kivoneth, we'd have the resources to deal with destroying the soul of that evil man.

  Chapter Eight: Desperate Hope

  Aingeal

  The pegasus soared through the starry skies of Faerie. Seven of the twenty-three moons shone in the sky right now. Shy Violet, sad Azure, and bold Vermilion were all full, their light panting beautiful highlights on the white mane of my mount.

  I tried to appreciate it, to drink in all the beauty I could because... Because Queen Sidhe would order my execution. I had afflicted her with the touch of iron. It wasn't supposed to happen to Queen Sidhe. I had planned on playing my prank on a rival of my father, but Duke Gallchobhar had interfered. He ensured the Queen of Faerie walked through that trellis and triggered my trap, that she was coated in iron dust.

  How the queen had screamed.

  There was no hiding from such an assault. I could have feigned ignorance of the pain caused to Lady Oona (my actual target), but not to Queen Sidhe... I had no choice but to grovel before the throne and beg for her forgiveness. Banishment for me while my father was stripped of his title. He died not long after, his heart broken by my crime.

  In my lust for vengeance on Duke Gallchobhar, I hadn't even considered that we would get caught. I didn't think there would be a warning. Not after twenty years. But Queen Sidhe maintained her vigil. Duke Gallchobhar was dead, but that didn't bring my father back to life. It didn't restore our lands to us. It didn't end my banishment.

  It just lead to my death. I was alive. I was even happy for those brief hours with Sven. Maybe we did some good, but I didn't care about freeing those humans. I didn't care about even helping Sven and Kora. I just wanted to see that bastard dead.

  Now he was, and soon I would die.

  It hardly felt like revenge was worth it. I didn't want to be killed by iron. To feel its foul touch burning my flesh from the inside, a fire raging through my veins slowly killing me. I would scream and scream and scream.

  I would never see Sven in this life again.

  I glanced at my husband flying at the lead with Princess Siona. He had impressed the princess with his prowess in the bed. But Queen Sidhe had millennia of life on her adopted daughter. The queen was the first faerie ever birthed by Cernere from her union with Las. Others followed, but she lived, ageless, guiding our people. She created Faerie to escape the mortal world and their traps of iron with which they sought to own us and use our abilities. Her will had dominated our people since our creation.

  And Sven wasn't one to submit. He liked to seize women, mold them to his will, get them to please him by showing them rapture. It wouldn't work on Queen Sidhe. If he tried to dominate her, she would laugh in his face. It would offend her. Her every whim was granted by any faerie. None of us would disobey her.

  I had to let Sven know. He would have to swallow his dominating pride. He would have to submit to her lusts, to do what she required, no matter what she desired, if he wanted to save me. My heart thudded in my chest.

  Could he do it? Could he swallow his instincts?

  I squirmed, wanting to flutter my wings. I missed them so much. I felt so... so incomplete without them. I pushed that down. It hardly mattered now. If Sven didn't convince Queen Sidhe to be merciful, it wouldn't matter that Duke Gallchobhar's attack burned away my wings.

  But how could I tell Sven? I squirmed. The diamond manacles about my wrists held a powerful enchantment. The spirits that danced through Faerie ignored me. I was no different from a human to them. They wouldn't obey my will and send a message to Sven. I glanced around the skies, debating my options.

  ~ * ~

  Princess Ava – Echur, Kivoneth Princedom, The Strifelands of Zeutch

  I decided to implement my plan first thing in the morning. I knew Shevoin would be tired. Father would have kept him up all night as they plotted new strategies while I was relatively rested. Well, as well rested as I could be given my excitement twisting through my body.

  I would finally escape my step-father. I would get far, far away from the lusts that gripped me.

  I dressed in a tight-bodice gown of blue silk while Greta styled my hair into strawberry-blonde curls. She wore a low-cut gown of simple green, her large breasts swaying in the bodice. Her tits almost spilled out, her nipples hard and on prominent display.

  I needed to get the mage on my side. There would be no escape if Shevoin's magic tracked me down. I didn't know if this would work. I just had to hope it would. I glanced at myself in my dressing mirror, the silver polished to such a gleam that I could see myself in it, my face youthful, my cheeks pink with my blush of arousal.

  My pussy dripped with excitement. I should go find father and...

  I pushed down that taboo lust. I wouldn't ever sleep with my father again. If I did... I would never escape. I could feel it in my chest. If I submitted to his lusts, he would utterly claim me. I would be lost to this spell. I would be his whore.

  I would bear his son and heir.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Princess?” Greta asked.

  “Very sure,” I told her and rose. “You do not have to come with me though.”

  “I do.” She hugged me tight. “I'm your servant, your Highness. I...” She bit off her words, her blue eyes growing misty. She looked away from me.

  “I love you, too,” I told her, squeezing her tight. “And we'll be happy with Sven.” Far, far away from my father and his huge cock. Oh, that dick would feel so nice sliding into my pussy. He would be so exhausted right now, needing me to love him, to...

  I clenched Greta tight. She squeaked and squirmed. “Princess!”

  “Sorry,” I gasped, shaking my head and releasing her. “We have to do this. We can't let anything stop us.”

  “Is it...that bad? Your... desires?”

  “They're destroying me.” I could be honest with her, unlike with Sven. He would never understand that I cheated on him over and over with my step-father. “I have to do this.”

  She took my hands, squeezing them. “Then we shall. Come on. I will get Shevoin wrapped about my finger, then you spring the trap.”

  “You mean your pussy will be wrapped about his cock,” I said, forcing some levity that I didn't feel.

  “It's not a bad cock,” she said and shivered, a smile spreading on her lips. “Will Sven's cock be a nice one?”

  “It's the best,” I told her—danother lie. Father's was. I wanted him in me right this moment... I took a deep breath. “Okay, let's do this before I throw myself at Father.”

  Greta nodded.

  We hurried through the castle, passing the other servants. My heart thudded faster and faster. I licked my lips, hoping this would work. It should. It had to. I didn't hav
e any other options of escape than with Shevoin's help.

  And he had already betrayed my father once for Greta's pussy.

  We reached the mage's bedroom. I nodded to a pair of passing maids, white kerchiefs holding back their flaxen hair. They saw us at his door, their eyes wide. They whispered as they scurried away, no doubt thinking that I came to Shevoin to have an affair with him.

  Good. That gossip would help.

  I took a deep breath, raised my hand, and knocked loudly on the door. It was time to blackmail a master mage. I hoped this would work.

  Chapter Nine: Frozen Dawn

  Kora Falk – Faerie

  The faerie's magic washed away my exhaustion before we mounted the pegasi to fly to Princess Siona's home. In an eye blink, I went from feeling like I had just had a long day of walking, fighting, and fucking (which I did) to the feeling that I had the most restful night's sleep.

  They had such amazing powers.

  I flew beside Sven, Princess Siona on his other side, marveling at the beauty of Faerie. It was hard to remember the stakes of our mission when traveling over rivers made of flowing gold or lakes that glittered like diamonds. We flew over forests that held different hues of trees, some with broad, violet leaves, others great conifers with azure needles looking almost covered in ice. Fields of colorful flowers, of grains that sparkled like the stars. We flew over villages and towns, built of sparkling materials, roads paved of silver, roofs tiled in sapphires or rubies. The faeries flitted around naked, singing, dancing through the air, making love as they drifted on the winds. They had such a zest for life.

  And the art...

  There were great hills carved into intricate statues, or gardens of flowers planted to make mosaics that could only be appreciated from the air. Others painted with hues on the very winds themselves, channeling them and making swirling patterns of pastels writhe together to make the impression of lovers dancing or kissing or fucking.

  I saw hues here that I didn't know the names of, gradients of color that, perhaps, could only exist in this strange world. My fingers itched to hold the brush. It had been so long since I properly painted anything. A year of being hunted, of freeing slaves, of skulking in taverns had denied me one of my passions. Only when illusions were needed, did I paint at all.

  And those were practical images. No imagination. No letting my muse speak to me.

  “Wow!” Zanyia gasped behind me.

  I threw a look over my shoulder. She and Nathalie flew on either side of Ealaín, the aoi si resplendent in her armor, her ebony face highlighted by the crimson moon shining down on us, her silver pauldrons reflecting glittering stars. Beyond them soared the soldiers, Aingeal in the middle. Her head hung; she looked despondent.

  She didn't believe Sven could seduce and please Queen Sidhe?

  “That is where we're going?” Zanyia asked. “Do you see that Master?”

  Her words flowed past me as I studied Aingeal. Why did she think Sven would fail? He knew how to please a woman like he'd trained in the sexual arts at the Temple of Rithi, or learned from the Priests of Pater all the techniques of seducing and pleasing women they knew. He was a master at it, a savant at making women quiver and moan. He instinctively knew what others had to be trained upon. My pussy grew juicy just thinking about how he'd loved me.

  And Aingeal knew this. She's experienced his passion.

  Worry seized my heart. I thought Sven would impress Queen Sidhe the same way he'd done with her adopted daughter. How could he fail to please her? Was there something... particular that Queen Sidhe demanded in her lovers?

  I had to talk to Aingeal.

  “Is that all made of crystal?” Sven asked.

  “Yes,” Siona said. “Behold the glory that is Danaan, the capital of the Faerie.”

  “Kora,” Sven said, “can you believe this?”

  “What?” I asked, my head sweeping around to look... “Rithi's blessed art!”

  My eyes widened at the crystal city on the horizon. It grew larger and larger as we hurtled closer on the pegasi. The wind blew at my blonde braids as I drank in the grandeur before me. Great spires of silvery glass rose into the air, reflecting the vagary hues of the moons shining upon it. As we came closer, I spotted smaller growths, jutting spars of faceted beauty thrusting off the greater towers.

  It didn't look so much built as grown, carefully nurtured by the faerie, guiding the crystal into the shapes to form their buildings and city. I wanted to paint it. I struggled to capture it in my mind so I could recreate it.

  And knew I could never come close to capturing its majesty.

  It was too immense for a human to reproduce. Too intricate. We reached the outskirts, the smaller residences that glowed from the inside, the lights by which the residents saw inside their homes. The crystals thrust from the ground at different angles, almost looking chaotic, but there was purpose in everything. Buildings complimented each other. The vary randomness of its layout reveled the deliberate design to make every place you looked different and enthralling.

  At its heart, burnished yellow glowed like a frozen dawn. Instead of silver, golden glass soared. These crystals were delicate, making slender spires, almost fluted. Faerie darted around them. Music rose around us, a thousand voices singing a complex harmony. Constructs made of twisted vines, like destroyed Cú Mheá, pranced through gardens of lesser crystals growing around the buildings. Some were feyhounds, but there were feyhinds, feybears, feycougars, and more. A menagerie of created beings that played below.

  “The Palace of Danaan,” breathed Siona. “My mother's grand court. Here did Aingeal commit her heinous crime against my mother.”

  As we flew through the palace's spires, the golden facets glimmered like mirrors. Reflections looked back at us, broken into eternities. It made me grow dizzy as our pegasi spiraled downward; they knew just where to go.

  I almost swooned with the dizzying beauty around me. My head kept whipping around, drinking in new sights. I heard even my brother gasping in awe, overwhelmed by the immensity of this place. The spires reached hundreds of feet into the air, taller than any structure built in our world.

  Faerie flitted around us as we landed. Some were servants, taking the pegasi away, while others were bedecked in too many jewels to be anything but nobles and courtiers. None wore clothing. Male faeries had jeweled cock rings either piercing their tips or worn around the bases, and about their arms they wore glittering torcs. The women were adorned with necklaces and rings and bracelets. They had pierced lips, noses, nipples, bellybuttons, clits, and labia. Some had strings of jewels adorning their hair, making them sparkle like the starry sky as they drifted around us.

  I dismounted my pegasus, grateful to stand on the courtyard. Until I looked down. And saw myself reflected back up in the golden surface. I could see up my robe, my naked pussy wet between my thighs.

  “By the gods,” Sven groaned. “How?”

  “It took three thousand years to grow Danaan,” Siona said with such pride. “Generations labored to build it for our Queen, a fitting home for the first of us.”

  The number made my head hurt. Three thousand years... The High King died two hundred years ago, and that felt like such a huge amount of time... How could Sven impress this Queen Sidhe if she was so ancient?

  I had to speak with Aingeal.

  “My mother awaits us,” Siona said after conferring with a slim, male fey with periwinkle hair and soft-blue wings. “My messenger arrived. She has granted you an audience, Sven, to plead on behalf of Aingeal.” Siona squeezed my brother's hand. “If you can manage to please my mother, she may be merciful.”

  “I heard a lot of conditionals in there,” growled Sven.

  “You can do it, Master,” Nathalie said.

  “Yes!” Zanyia purred. She knelt before him and nuzzled her face into his thigh. “I believe in you, Master.”

  So did I.

  Only a few soldiers formed up around Aingeal. She stood with her head lowered, hands manacled be
hind her. Her large tits swayed as one of the soldiers prodded her forward with the haft of a bronze spear.

  But would they let me get close to her? Prisoners often weren't allowed to speak to others. I'd have to find a way to distract them. I wanted to use my illusions, but I had learned that faerie were too good at seeing through what I created. While I was skilled with my art, they lived and breathed such deceptions. Not only were they birthed of the God of Lust, but of the Goddess of Crime. Trickery and lies formed them as much as carnal desires.

  I would need something else to distract them. Just for a moment. Could I use the sex slaves? No, there were five guards. Zanyia and Nathalie could pull away one or two each, but that would still leave at least one guarding her.

  “Let's not keep Mother waiting,” Siona said, with a flutter of her purple wings. “She is not a patient being.”

  Sven strode beside the princess, marching with his confident strut into the palace. Zanyia and Nathalie followed after him. Ealaín loomed up beside me, somehow not making a sound despite the full plate armor she wore. Her midnight-black face was set, expressionless.

  “You are not confident in my brother's success?” I asked, my mind still working on the problem of speaking to Aingeal.

  “Are you?”

  “I need to speak to Aingeal,” I said as I followed after, Ealaín pacing me.

  “Then talk to her,” the aoi si said, her words direct.

  “She's surrounded by the guards.”

  “And?”

  “And...” I frowned, struggling for a reason why that wouldn't work. “I... Huh... I guess I could just talk to her.”

  “Sometimes you humans overcomplicate things by thinking too much,” Ealaín said.

  It really couldn't be that simple, could it? I glanced back at the guards leading Aingeal. Well, I could just try. I slowed my pace, letting them catch up to me. The lead soldier came abreast with me, glancing at me once. He gave me a flirty smile.