The Cursed Prince: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Fated by Magic) (Volume 1)

by Taylor Fray

  “Morgan! Stay with me! Stay right here!”

  She could see her own body. She could hear their emotions, hear their thoughts. She was weightless, formless, a sphere of awareness that filled the room. This was death. It was freedom. She turned and saw a tunnel of pure white light. Just looking at it, she felt the most pure, the most luminous joy she had ever known. It was sweetness itself. It called to her, was almost irresistible, like a mother’s call to a young child.

  “What are you waiting for!” Magestros said, his wand surging with magical energy, channeling it into Zak. “Kiss her, pour all your strength, all your power, all your love, everything you’ve got!” Magestros furrowed his brow, his forehead glistening as he entered a state of willpower no human could approach. His wand channeled a torrent of energy from the goblet, into Zak’s heart, which became like a shining sun, a splendor of mystic light that shone so bright it seemed it might burn the whole world. “This is it! This will bring back the one you truly love! Even from death! Believe it!”

  Shining like a god of old, Zak caressed Morgan’s face, then he gently wrapped one hand around her waste and another around her neck. She gazed down at him. He didn’t know that her body was empty now, but wanting to watch him made her pause for just a moment before she went to the light. He lifted her, her locks spilling around his hand. The black tendrils recoiled from the rose light like vipers when their nest is broken and sun rains down. His lips touched hers, and rose light enveloped them. The light flashed, filling the room, seemingly radiating to the ends of the earth.

  She felt her consciousness being drained back into her body. For a moment it was jarring, like being hurled through a powerful ocean current, then being flung into a prison of flesh. Her lungs filled with air again—a sharp pain. She actually felt her nerves firing on, her limbs regaining sensation. Then she felt the warmth, the moisture of his lips and she wrapped hers around them, caressed them with wetness. A thrill rushed through her, as if this were the first time she had ever kissed a man.

  Their eyes met. “God, it worked,” Zak said. Wonder and joy mingled on his face.

  She was speechless. Could only gasp in broken breaths as she gripped him to make sure he was solid, and it was all real.

  “It worked!” he shouted again.

  “Zak…” was all she could manage to say.

  The roughness of his facial hair sparked her senses. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, wanting more and more of his kiss.

  Her strength returned. The more they kissed, the more the black veins receded. They fell away like burnt rope. The rune on her neck cracked and turned to ash that was dissolved away. Magic lights—purple, white, rose, gold—kept enveloping them, wrapping them in a dazzling cocoon, like they were in their own world. Morgan lost herself in a euphoria that verged on psychedelic. All that mattered was that she had found her life, her love.

  She felt invigorated, the magic filling her with strength and vitality. As the magic swirled around them it was as if reality was being tilted on its axis, lights cascading all around them, ethereal energy rushing through both of them. They lost themselves in their embrace, passion pouring in their wet kisses, magic enveloping them.

  “You’re welcome,” Magestros said to himself, pouring sweat and gulping air like he had just sprinted a marathon. He quietly nodded to his attendant and they slipped out of the room and left the two lovers in their embrace.

  “It really worked!” Zak exclaimed, seeing Morgan alive and radiant, a flush of relief and excitement on her face, her hair bouncy and silken.

  “Because of you, because you cared,” she said.

  “Because I love you,” he answered. They embraced for a long time. She let all her worry, all the fear of the last several days melt away. She only enjoyed his warm, protective weight on her. They enjoyed their silent embrace and fell into a long sleep, a sleep of relief and contentment.

  18

  When she woke up she was still in his arms, the sheets wrapped around them. The morning was barely starting to break and she felt more rested and at peace than she had in years. Her movement woke Zak. He ran his hand along her belly and squeezed her close to him.

  “We should thank Magestros,” she said and pecked him on the cheek. She got up, found a mirror and began adjusting her messy hair. Suddenly she saw Zak’s powerful body loom into the mirror image.

  “We can do that later,” he said, and he kissed her in a way that told her how hungry he was for her.

  “Maybe I’m the one who’s going to play hard to get now,” she teased and looked away from him. His grip only tightened.

  “I’m not letting go. Now, or ever.” She gasped with a quiet smile as he kissed her just below her ear. “And I’m going to win you over, woman, in every way.”

  She could hear the determination in his voice, to take her. And she kissed him with a smile. “I’m so glad we’ve waited until now, it means so much more. You were right all along.”

  Normally, he would have picked her up and carried her to bed. But now he only stepped forward until he pressed against her. He didn’t wrap his arms around her, he simply took another slow gentle step, so that she had to stagger back. He smiled as he kept moving forward, like an inevitable avalanche of a man. As he moved forward, he slipped off his shirt. Her breath quickened.

  “I’m done waiting. I cannot keep myself from you anymore. I must have you. Now.”

  She felt the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. She felt the caress of his fingers as they ran along her hips and slowly raised her shirt.

  His kisses rained down on her, and she couldn’t help but smile with joy. But her smile quickly turned to a silence of pure pleasure as he went on kissing her. His lips moved up and down her neck; they caressed her collarbone as he finished slipping her shirt off. He caressed her body, and as his hands ran along her sides they brushed against her breasts. Her nipples hardened and she gasped under her breath.

  “Do you know how beautiful you look now? Your breasts are so full. And your hips…” Her mouth parted in expectation as he slipped her pants off. He placed both his hands on her bare hips, caressed them, squeezed them in a way that told her he was going to take control of her pleasure in every way. “Your hips are curved like those of a goddess.”

  He leaned into her, holding her weight as she slowly crumpled under him and sat on the bed. He climbed in with her, sat behind her. He wrapped his massive arms around her, one on her waist, the other on her chest. His fingers began massaging her breasts. Her lips parted letting out staggered sighs. Though he rubbed her breasts, he didn’t touch her nipples, and she realized it was to make her long for him doing so even more. He went on massaging them, building her desire to a fever pitch with each movement. There was so much friction building on them, that it was making her more and more wet. “Zak, don’t tease me.”

  When he finally laid her down, he wrapped his lips around her hardened nipples, kissed and sucked them with the most gentle of pressure. She cried out in utter pleasure. “Ah! That feels so good!” He went to her other breast, but kept massaging with his other hand. He kissed and sucked her nipples with even more pressure, licked them, nibbled at them, so that her hips arched with building desire. “Zak, let me give you some pleasure.” She reached down to his pelvis, but he stopped her.

  “No. I said I was going to have you, exactly as I want. And what I want, is to pleasure you, entirely, and completely.” The way he commanded her aroused her even more, and she could only give in to his burning limbs.

  He went on kissing her all over, her shoulders, her center, her breasts. She let out gasps of pleasure as his hand slipped into her panties and he massaged her, his fingers flicking, rubbing her, caressing her in ways that made her breath rattle. “Zak… please, I want you inside me. I can’t take it anymore.”

  “I want you too. I want you completely. Every part of you is so beautiful. Your eyes. Your lips. Beautiful. Just like every part of your soul.”

  He kissed her,
his tongue caressing hers in smooth, enveloping movements. She closed her eyes, gasping as she tried to keep herself from melting. It wasn’t just the physical pleasure that thrilled her, it was how much he cared for her. The way he caressed her, the way he kissed her, the way he treasured every part of her body, it was the same way he treasured every part of her life, every part of her heart. She knew that would never change, and finally she had found someone she could trust completely, who she could give herself to completely. When she had first wanted him, it had been only a primal instinct, but now it was so much more.

  He slipped out of his pants. Then he inched her silky panties slowly off of her. He went on kissing her, and she could feel how hard he was as he rubbed against her. Her fingernails pressed into his back. She closed her eyes, could feel his hips start to grind against hers. He clutched her hips tight, his massive hands squeezing her flesh, holding her just like he wanted. Then he went inside her. She arched and she exploded with ecstasy as they became one.

  They had exhausted themselves with pleasure, and had dozed off in a languid euphoria. They came to in the late morning, kissed in greeting, and looked into each other’s eyes as if they could speak through them.

  “You all better?” he said with a grin.

  She bit her lip. “All better.”

  “Oh no,” he said, worry on his face. “Your neck.”

  “What?” She ran her hand on her neck in alarm.

  “I think I bit you a little too hard,” he said, extending his glinting fangs. She quickly realized he was joking and she slammed a pillow in his face with her supernatural strength. He fell over with laughter. She settled her head back into the nook of his arm—it was just so comfortable.

  “I heard the deal you made with Magestros. Ten years work. You’re not doing that alone.” He cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “I’m serving those years with you.”

  “Are you crazy? I agreed to it, and you weren’t involved in that deal. That’s out of the question.”

  “He wants you for ten years; he can get us both as his goons for five. It evens out.”

  “He wouldn’t accept that.”

  “Why not? Are you saying I can’t keep up with you? I can give you a run for your money in tracking and fighting, and I just turned werewolf this week. Imagine what I’ll be able to do if I train myself.”

  “You saw what can happen. We both almost died.”

  “But in the end,” she said as she kissed him. “It actually had really good results.”

  “Just good?” Zak asked with a grin.

  “Alright! Mind-blowingly good.” They laughed and kissed once more.

  Silverware clattered as Magestros, Zak and Morgan ate a lavish breakfast in Magestros’ lavish dining room.

  “I love that idea, let me tell you,” Magestros said as he wolfed down eggs.

  “Absolutely not,” Zak said.

  “Two mercenaries at once are better than one. And besides, I sense something about you Morgan. Only a powerful fate could bring you to me just days after I had finished crafting that spell. It is not your abilities which I seek, but it is whatever force is driving your destiny.”

  “No, Magestros,” Zak said. “You know all the things you get involved with. It’s dangerous.”

  “I can handle it,” Morgan interrupted. “Besides, I think regular P.I. work would bore me now that I know what I am and that a whole other world exists. And if you’re always off working, we’d hardly get a chance to see each other.”

  “Listen to her.” Magestros nodded.

  “Alright,” Zak relented. “It’s two against one. We’ll figure something out.”

  “Oh yes, we will,” Magestros said.

  “You could have asked for a hundred years of service, and I would have agreed.”

  “Look,” Magestros said, putting his fork down. “We didn’t have time for me to explain… I don’t want the two of you thinking that I’m a cold-hearted knave looking to press people into servitude. That spell, it was 50 years worth of work. And it could only be used once. You think I intended it for the two of you?”

  “Magestros, I didn’t realize—” Morgan stuttered

  “No, no, that’s not the point—that’s not how I meant it. What’s done is done.” Morgan and Zak looked at each other. “What I’m saying is I had to make a decision right there and then. It wasn’t so much about your service, though I value it as a precious commodity. It was about fulfilling magic law. Nothing comes from nothing. Something has to be given for something to be born. It’s the first law. And since Zak was the querent, he had to give something. And it couldn’t be something insignificant, or it would be an insult to the powers of the universe. And believe me, the universe is a very unforgiving boss.”

  “Thank you, Magestros,” Zak said. “I don’t know how you came up with that spell, but it meant everything.”

  “Yes, thank you, Magestros,” Morgan said. “You saved my life.”

  “No, he saved your life. That wolf man over there,” Magestros said, pointing at Zak. Morgan glanced at Zak, then back at Magestros, who had suddenly become pensive. “I’m not heartless, but I don’t want you thinking I’m a saint either. Not that Zak ever would, because he knows me. The way things happened last night. You coming here. The way it all came together. We mages study ways to bend the universe to our will, we do things that leave others in awe. But sometimes even mages have to bow in awe of fate. I did, and I do. I see in the two of you, someone from another life speaking to me. Someone I knew.”

  “Who, Magestros?” Zak asked.

  The wizard waved his hand. “The past dies… that the future might live.”

  Zak and Morgan looked at each other, not knowing what was coming, but a deep love for each other in their eyes.

  “To a bright future and the spoils of war,” Magestros said as he raised a glass of champagne to toast.

  “To a bright future,” Morgan joined in raising a glass.

  Zak relented and also raised his glass. “To a bright future.”

  Zak stood behind her with his arms around her waist. A breeze whisked her hair back as they stood on a balcony of Magestros’ home.

  “You just leaped in, barely knowing Magestros,” he said to her.

  “I knew that if you agreed to work for him, then I would be fine with it too. And I know that whatever danger comes it’ll be worth it if it means I got you with me.”

  “But first, I want to finish what we started.” Zak said. “Tomorrow we drive to Grey Home. I want to be at peace with my clan, with my family. And I want you to be a part of it.”

  They kissed again, ready to face the future together.

  19

  In a cold wet cemetery, a woman walked past granite tombstones, scared, confused. She was tall and beautiful, raven-black waves of hair framed her porcelain-white face. Her green dress matched the color of her eyes. Rain began to fall, and she gasped, scanning the sky. Almost instinctively, she covered herself with her arms as to not get wet. Her face twisted with confusion when she realized: she wasn’t getting wet at all, the rain was falling through her. She seemed almost transparent in some places as the rain passed right through her body. She screamed in alarm at the phenomenon. Then suddenly she felt the wetness of rain on her, and she was solid again.

  She began whimpering, not knowing where she was or how she got there.

  “Help! Please, someone,” she said. She ran for cover under a tree, and crouched to her knees in desperation. She knew she was flesh and bone now, could feel the soggy grass at her feet, the damp cloth of her dress.

  She was shaking. Couldn’t handle it. What had happened to her? Who was she? Her mind reached for memories, and then she spotted something, on her hand: a wedding ring.

  The woman walked toward a large stone wall surrounding an imposing mansion. She took in the sight of it, the road that led to it, the trees and grass all around. Yes, this was it, she was sure of it. She knew this place. Some vague memory had led her from the graveyard to t
hese walls she had known in a way she could not explain.

  She stood in front of the black iron gate, held onto the cold metal bars as she peered in. The sense of recognition grew stronger as she took in the symbols on the gate. Twelve crescent moons overlapped one another, encircling a full moon in the center. To either side were two wolf’s heads, and a hammer hovered above it all.

  “Hello?” she yelled into the courtyard, getting only silence back. “Hello!”

  She felt uneasy when she noticed sharp iron spikes along the top of the wall, though even this seemed familiar. Suddenly two men appeared behind her, silently, as if they had been there the whole time.

  “You must be lost,” one of them said to her. He was a tall, blonde man. His hair was tied back in a sort of pony tail, and he wore the gear of some kind of soldier. Another man was with him. He was much older, was bearded, wore a long winter coat, luxurious boots, and several bright stoned rings. He had his silver hair pulled back also. He had the look, almost of a modern day Viking. This man, the older one, suddenly went white with recognition.

  “You know me, don’t you?” she asked him.

  “…Emily?” he answered, his voice shaky with disbelief.

  “Gustav,” she trembled, the name coming back to her like a hummingbird darting into her mind. “Yes, it’s me.” She began remembering more now. He was Gustav, the Hammer of the 13 Moons Clan. Their second in command, the enforcer of all the laws governing his people. She stepped toward him, and reached out to hug him. He embraced her like a daughter.

  “How is this possible?” Gustav asked. Though his face was that of a man that had seen lifetimes worth, he was in utter disbelief.

  She shook her head, let herself cry on his shoulder. “I was in the land of the dead. Then I saw a light. Like a blooming rose. It enveloped me. It was warm, beautiful, the most wonderful magic I ever felt—I can’t begin to really describe it. Then suddenly, I was alive again. It was like I flickered into existence until I was flesh again.” She didn’t know what else to say, only shook her head to express sharing his silent confusion. Then she gathered herself as another memory returned to her. “My husband,” she said, fighting through tears. “Where is he? Where is… Zak?”