Daughter of the Dark Moon: Book 3 of the Twin Moons Saga

by Holly Bargo

  Damn him.

  She searched the room and found a pair of soft leather slippers that tied to adjust the fit. The thin, flexible soles put her in mind of ballet slippers and offered basic protection against the bare wood beneath her feet. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she opened the bedroom door and peered into a corridor.

  “My lady?” a high voice piped.

  Corinne barely stifled a yelp of surprise and looked around to see who spoke.

  “Down here, my lady.”

  She looked down to see a perfectly formed, miniature person no taller than her waist.

  “Oh, hello,” she greeted with uncertain wariness.

  The little person nodded and smiled. “Welcome to the Erlking’s keep, my lady. Lady Oriel bids me lead you to the family dining room, if you will please follow me.”

  The servant nodded and glided up the corridor. Corinne hesitated, not entirely positive whether she ought to follow this unknown person. Her belly growled loudly and made the decision for her. The little person walked with surprising speed, despite the obviously short length of his legs. Corinne took a couple skipping steps to catch up. The servant halted in front of a tall, dark door on which a sigil had been carved and filled in with something red and shiny. At his touch, the door swung open.

  With a curt bow, the servant gestured and said, “Please enter. They await you.”

  “They?” she murmured. Dread made her heart pound and her palms sweat.

  She nodded her thanks and entered a well-appointed room, her gaze landing on the enormous man whose fierce glare caught and held hers. She took in the sight of his wild auburn hair, close-cropped beard and icy, calculating gaze.

  “Enter,” he barked, his voice not loud, although nonetheless reverberating.

  Corinne’s heart sank to her toes.

  “Gus, you’re terrifying the poor girl,” Oriel’s voice floated lightly on the air. Then the lovely woman entered Corinne’s narrow field of vision and she smiled with welcome. “Come in, come in. I’ve managed to convert my … husband, I guess you’d call him … to an American style breakfast, so you mustn’t allow yourself to go hungry.”

  “Mate,” the big man corrected in a gruff tone. “We’re mated, not married.”

  “Give her time to acclimate, my dear.”

  “It makes a difference, my love.”

  “Of course, it does. But she’s not quite ready for all that it entails. On top of that, she’s a bit put out with Uberon.”

  “She’s his mate and belongs with him,” Gus rumbled.

  Oriel gave him a fond, tolerant smile and sighed. “Yes, darling, but there’s a right way and a wrong way to go about establishing and sealing the soul bond. I’m convinced that Uberon didn’t quite bother to explain things as he should have.”

  The Erlking harrumphed and subsided, running the back of a knuckle over his mate’s smooth cheek. Oriel’s eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into the touch. Corinne blinked at the easygoing, domestic squabble, astounded that the petite, amiable woman held her own against the outsized man who looked like a fabled Scottish warrior. A stray thought crossed her mind: Did he wear a kilt?

  “Aye, I’ve a fondness for Caledonia,” he murmured, his fierce gaze locking with hers again.

  Corinne’s jaw dropped. A moment later, she summoned the wherewithal to close her mouth. Had he read her mind?

  “Stop it, Gus. You’re frightening her again.” Oriel lightly tapped his burly upper arm and directed a smile at Corinne. “Come in, my dear. I can’t say that Gus’ bark is worse than his bite, but he means you no harm.”

  Feeling compelled, Corinne stepped further into the room.

  “That deep blue looks magnificent on you,” Oriel complimented. “Uberon chose well.”

  “Uberon chose this?” Corinne gasped and looked down at the graceful drape of the silk covering her body.

  “Of course. He always did have excellent taste.”

  “But … how? When?” Corinne spluttered.

  “Not all that long ago. I was surprised he waited as long as he did before taking you as his mate.” Oriel tilted her head and observed with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Fae males tend to be impatient.”

  “Impatient,” Corinne echoed in a faint voice.

  “Oh, yes. Yes.”

  Corinne blinked, the second affirmation being more passionate that the discussion merited. The she noticed the subtle movement of the Erlking’s arm muscles and realized what he was doing. And Oriel doesn’t seem to mind in the least, a little voice in the back of her mind pointed out.

  She averted her gaze and focused on the sideboard. Gesturing vaguely in the direction of food, she asked, “Shall I—?”

  “Be seated. Guests do not serve themselves here,” came the breathy response, followed by a soft moan. “Oh, Gus, yes.”

  Cheeks flaming, Corinne took a seat at the opposite end of the table, not wanting to intrude any further than she had already. Hardly a second passed before a silent servant unobtrusively offered her the choice between tea or coffee. She considered the options and muttered, “Coffee. It’s going to be a coffee day. I can feel it.”

  The servant’s mouth quirked upward, flashing her a brief smile of amused commiseration. He poured the morning beverage and then inquired as to what she’d like from the buffet of breakfast items. Not entirely sure of her next meal, Corinne stocked up on French toast, eggs, and hash browns. She forced herself to eat at a normal pace and not watch as her hostess’ olive complexion flushed and the air somehow resounded with the small, breathy sounds of orgasm delivered by her mate’s surreptitious touch hidden beneath the table.

  The subdued passion in the tableau across the table made her squirm, first with embarrassment, then with discomfort as her own, newly awakened body began to throb and tingle and want. She felt herself grow moist and knew a flush pinked her skin. With a small cough to clear her throat, Corinne focused on her food and almost wished Uberon were there to touch her as Gus touched Oriel.

  Almost.

  Damn him.

  With her belly filled, Corinne rose and politely excused herself, trying not to watch as Gus licked his fingers clean with obvious relish. She hastened from the room and the suspicion that he’d bend Oriel over the table and fuck her senseless as soon as she departed.

  “Fae are a sensual race,” the halfling commented as the door closed behind Corinne. “We see no need to hide our pleasure.”

  “I—I’m not fae,” Corinne protested, her voice faint.

  “Yes, you are. You just don’t know it yet.” The little person who’d guided her to the family dining room gestured and added, “Follow me, my lady. Allow me to show you Lady Oriel’s lily garden.”

  “Lily garden?” Corinne fell into step alongside the servant.

  “Aye. The Erlking ordered it installed for her pleasure. It’s a great favorite with visitors.”

  She considered that and thought that a lily garden made for a refreshing change of pace instead of the usual rose garden.

  “Er … do I need a shawl or something?”

  “No, my lady. ’Tis the height of summer here and the weather is most fair.”

  Corinne didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she held her silence until the next question popped out before she could stop it. “Um, do you know where Uberon is?”

  “His grace has departed and charged the Erlking with your protection and well-being during his absence.”

  “He left? Where?” After asking the question, Corinne realized that the location didn’t matter, since she had no idea, really, where they were.

  “He did not confide in me,” the servant replied with mild equanimity. “I have been assigned to attend you and see to your comfort.”

  “Comfort,” she parroted, her voice again faint with disbelief. Her tone sharpened with the next question: “What if I said it would comfort me to return home?”

  “Then I would regret my failure to see to your comfort,” came the unpert
urbed reply.

  “Huh.”

  They walked in silence, turning down corridors and crossing rooms until Corinne was thoroughly lost. She gasped in awe when the halfling opened glass paned, double doors that led to a sunny garden. Heady fragrances of fertile loam, fresh water, and verdant growth filled the sun-warmed air.

  “Have a seat, my lady, or wander the garden. I shall return with refreshments. Do you enjoy reading? Lady Oriel has many books from your world.”

  Turning back to face the halfling, Corinne nodded, wordless from the effect of her overwhelmed senses. Finally, she found her voice. “Er … yes, I would enjoy something to read. D-does Lady Oriel have any tales of adventure?”

  The halfling grinned. “Excellent, my lady. I’ll return shortly.”

  Corinne nodded and wandered off to look more closely at the lush and varied lilies that displayed their glory to the open sky. She walked slowly down groomed, winding, gravel paths that took full advantage of the garden’s cozy size and the bountiful variety of blooms and circled several shallow fountains graced by more kinds of water lilies than she imagined existed. When she returned to the stone bench the halfling indicated earlier, she saw a sweating pitcher of water, a glass, and a well-worn copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J. K. Rowling.

  Corinne threw her head back and laughed.

  Giving her a quizzical look, the halfling took an affronted step backward. “Have I given offense, my lady?”

  Corinne wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands and shook her head. “Ah, no. I’m sorry … um … I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

  “Luthhir, my lady.”

  She wiped the damp back of one hand against her skirt and held it out to shake. “I’m pleased to meet you, Luthhir. I’m Corinne.”

  The halfling’s large eyes widened even more at the friendly gesture of equality and backed away another step, putting himself beyond her reach. Instead, he bowed. “Is the book not to your liking, my lady?”

  “Oh, I saw the movie, several times in fact.”

  “Movie?”

  “Um …” Corinne closed her eyes with belated understanding that this preindustrial world would no doubt not have such entertainments as movies. That led her to wonder why she automatically assumed this place in which she had been deposited met the qualifications of preindustrial. Just because she hadn’t seen any factories or automobiles didn’t mean that this world didn’t have them. After all, one wouldn’t expect to find machines in plain view inside the Erlking’s fairytale castle which resembled a strange cross between a Gothic cathedral and something Mad King Ludwig of Bavaria might have commissioned with its soaring spires, vaulted ceilings, and flying buttresses.

  “Nevermind,” she finished weakly. “It’s one of my favorite stories.”

  Luthhir’s round face relaxed, his apple-cheeks plumping with a smile. “Then perhaps you wish to read something with which you are not familiar, a new tale?”

  “Ah, yes, a new tale.” Corinne grabbed onto that olive branch with a heady sense of relief. “That is, if you have anything written in English. I’m afraid I’m quite illiterate in other languages.”

  “Of course, my lady. Queen Oriel has many books. I shall fetch something else.”

  Chagrined that the little man would rush off to parts unknown just to fulfill her whim, Corinne called out, “No, I’ll make do with this one today.” She gave him a smile of apology. “But thank you for the offer. I don’t wish to be of any trouble.”

  “Oh, no, my lady. It’s my pleasure to serve you,” Luthor demurred with practiced good manners.

  “Perhaps you’ll teach me the way to the library so I can fetch my own books,” she suggested. “That way you won’t feel obligated to go scurrying hither and yon.”

  “’Tis my duty.”

  “I’m sure you have more important things to do than wait upon me.”

  “No, my lady. I was assigned to your care.”

  She sighed, realizing that she would not escape her pint-sized guardian. “Then I would greatly appreciate being shown to the library tomorrow. Now, please take a seat. You make me feel nervous standing at attention like that.”

  “You may wish to inquire of the castle if you are to stay here for an extended length of time.”

  “Inquire of the castle?” she echoed, bewildered as the halfling took a seat next to her and folded his hands in his lap. His small booted feet did not touch the ground. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Aye.” Luthhir patted the stone bench. “The castle is sentient. It knows who walks and resides within its grounds.”

  “Sentient?”

  “Do you not have such structures where you come from?”

  “Er … no, we don’t,” she replied, thinking of the sophisticated security systems that viewed and tracked everyone who entered or exited any building protected by high-tech electronics. Of course, the buildings were not sentient, though she assumed the security personnel who watched the monitors most certainly fell under that category.

  Except for the human radish who had manned the security desk in her freshman dormitory. Egad, what a moron. A creep, too.

  With a little shake of her head to clear her mind of such memories which would certainly do her no good here, she picked up the book and opened it. Luthhir kept her silent company for several minutes, absently swinging his feet. Then he slid off the bench, collected the tray with the pitcher and glass of now-tepid water, and murmured something about bringing something cool to drink. Finally alone, Corinne sighed and continued to read.

  CHAPTER 7

  Days passed in lazy idleness turned into weeks, and then came the change of seasons. Oriel appointed herself Corinne’s tutor and began teaching her the dominant language of the fae world in which her guest now lived. Corinne missed her family and wished she had some method to communicate with them, at least to let them know she had come to no true harm.

  As she lay in bed one morning, she admired the refraction of early sunlight through the crystals of frost that rimed the glass panes and realized that of all the changes she had undergone, one had slipped her notice. With a gasp, she pressed her palms over her belly.

  Could it be?

  She groaned with dread. How could she have been so foolish as to not think that even a single night of wild monkey sex might leave her pregnant? With sudden energy, she left the bed and ran through her morning ablutions and dressed. Oriel noticed her wild eyes when Corinne joined them for breakfast.

  “Whatever is the matter, my dear?”

  “I … I … I think I’m pregnant,” Corinne blurted in a hoarse voice.

  The beautiful brunette tilted her head to one side, pondered the statement for a few seconds, then asked, “What makes you think that?”

  Corinne’s gaze darted to the Erlking who listened with unabashed interest. She blushed with embarrassment. “I—I just realized that I haven’t had my period since I came here.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Oriel chuckled. “Fae biology doesn’t work quite like human biology. Even if it did, no pregnancy would have survived the transformation from human to fae.”

  “I’m not fae, though.”

  “You most certainly are.” She ran her fingertips lightly over the silver and gemstones adorning her smooth flesh. “The soul bond ensures it. Besides, nothing crosses the Erkling’s borders unless invited, and it’s quite rare for anything other than the fae to be invited. No human would stand a chance.”

  “I welcome few of the fae,” Gus growled in his deep baritone.

  “Yes, darling, you’re quite reclusive, which does wonders for enhancing your reputation,” Oriel placated as she reached over to pat his hand. She smiled at Corinne. “The transformation involves a great deal of magic and usually generates a terrible mess. It’s best you don’t try to remember the gory details.”

  Corinne’s own fingertips traced the silver engraved into the skin exposed by the wide, scooped neckline of her gown. Surely, she would have rememb
ered that little operation, wouldn’t she?

  “As time passes, you’ll notice other changes. Some are less subtle than the cessation of former biological processes, some more so. It’s different for everyone, or so I’m told.”

  “How many people do you know this has happened to?”

  Oriel held up her hand and curled one finger for each person as she named them. “Catriona who is mated to Captain Thelan of the Seelie Court, Calista who is mated to Captain Falco of the Daimónio Refstófae, myself, and you.”

  Corinne blinked. Under Oriel’s patient tutoring, she had begun to grasp the history of the fae realms and recognized the women—no, females—named. The fae did not style themselves as men or women, which they considered human terms and therefore pejorative. They were male or female and fae and preferred precision in their speech.

  She had yet to hear Oriel’s personal history. Perhaps Oriel wished to keep that private. Regardless, she knew she would not be so rude as to pry. After a moment’s thought, she returned to the original subject.

  “So, I’m not likely to be pregnant?”

  “I’m afraid that’s quite impossible.”

  Corinne decided to accept the other woman’s assurance. She sighed.

  “Why the heavy sigh?”

  “I miss my family.”

  “Would you like to write a letter to them?”

  “I don’t think the U.S. Postal Service has a route here,” Corinne pointed out with acidic irony.

  “Of course not. But Gus can pop into the human realm and drop a letter into a mailbox for you.”

  The Erlking’s fiery eyebrows met his hairline at this blithe declaration.

  “And postage?”

  “He’ll drop it into your parent’s mailbox at their home.”

  “Oh.” She paused. “If you can go there, why can’t I?”

  “I misspoke. One of the native fae can perform this task. Those of us who are adapted to fae flesh are less malleable.”