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Prince by Blood and Bone: A Fantasy Romance of the Black Court (Tales of the Black Court)

Page 27

by Jessica Aspen


  The screams died to whimpers and Kian pulled the plaid away.

  One side of Agrona was fine, her brush of brown hair was a tangled, drooping mess, but the other had been burned away. The left side was destroyed, her skin and dress nothing but burned and shredded black tatters hanging on red, peeled flesh.

  “All I wanted was to be a princess. To have everyone love me,” Agrona rasped out. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and her breath stopped.

  Bryanna tried for power, but she couldn’t center over the shaking. She finally found a small trickle of pale blue and washed it toward Agrona. But it didn’t seem to help. She dropped her side of the plaid. “I think she’s dead.”

  “Good riddance.” Kian winced, his arm and shoulder were a mass of oozy, red burns, blood had soaked his shirt and pants, and his face was strained and pale.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, great.” He said. He stumbled to the wall and slid down to the bottom, leaning against it and cradling his arm in his lap. “You shouldn’t be here. My mother’s outside the gate. If she discovers a MacElvy here, she’ll lose it. She’ll burn this place to the ground to get to you.”

  “I don’t care.” She crouched next to him and stroked his cheek.

  He hissed. “Everything hurts.”

  “Hang on.” She breathed and centered and reached again for the blue strand of energy. Now that she could grow calm and concentrate, it came willingly to her, growing into that rich, healer blue that still amazed her. She stroked the power over his arm and the burns eased, leaving only red welts.

  He flexed his arm, a grin spreading over his face. “That’s more like it. Come here, witch, I’m glad to see you.”

  She pushed him gently away and tore his shirt down the middle. Little gold buttons popped off flying to the side and hitting the floor.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Let me do the rest.”

  “Fine.” He leaned back against the wall and she finished healing the newly re-opened cuts in his stomach and then the deeper wound in his thigh.

  “Better?” she asked. Accessing the healer blue seemed easier and easier each time, but by the end she was tired and ready to stop. It would take time and practice to be able to do this kind of healing without draining herself.

  “Much better.” Kian reached for her and pulled her in close. “Now come here.” He spread kisses over her face and cheeks and lips.

  She melted into him. This was where she wanted to be for the rest of her life. “I love you,” she murmured against his mouth.

  “Isn’t that sweet.” Agrona rasped out behind them.

  Bryanna stiffened.

  Agrona had pulled herself up. She crawled across the floor towards them, her burns oozing bloody yellow pus. Clutched in her good hand, she held a sparkling, black diamond. “She loves you.” She lifted the stone. “She’ll never want you once you’re a beast permanently. No woman will want you, monster!” She threw the diamond and collapsed, moaning and spitting on the floor.

  Kian twisted his body, throwing his arm up and shielding Bryanna. The diamond hit his back and shattered into billions of glittering, magical fragments.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Bryanna scrambled across the floor and picked up her sword. Agrona’s swaying form rose, rushing at her and she gripped the sword in both hands and raised it over her head. Using all of her strength she stabbed down, pushing the blade into the plunging neckline of the destroyed wedding dress. The sword ground to nearly a halt as it hit the resistance of bone and flesh.

  Agrona wailed, blood burbling out of her twisted mouth. Her hands bunched into claws and she scratched at Bryanna’s face.

  Bryanna blinked past the droplets of blood caught in her eyelashes. She shook them off, leaned closer, and pushed the sword in, grinding it deep, and stabbing into the center of Agrona’s beating heart.

  Kian screamed behind her.

  The despair in his voice brought tears to her eyes, but she didn’t turn around. She stayed where she was, her muscles aching and holding her sword steady as Agrona’s life-blood gushed out over her and onto the floor. Agrona’s head jerked, then fell back. Her skin leached color and the soul drained out leaving her eyes flat and empty.

  Bryanna did a quick check. Agrona’s eggplant-rich aura was gone. This time the bitch was truly dead. She let go of the sword and the body toppled to the floor.

  She turned back to Kian. Bones rippled under his skin. Another agonized scream ripped from him, tearing into her soul.

  “Bryanna, go,” he panted. “You can’t save me. The queen will be coming.” His back arched and his face contorted.

  “I’m not leaving,” she said, rushing to him. “I won’t let them win. I won’t let you be permanently cursed.”

  Her Gift still pulsed inside her, the blue power waiting for her. She wiped the blood from her eyes and reached for the power, pulling more from the stars and the earth than she ever had before. It rushed through her, lifting her hair and crackling off of the tips of her fingers. She took it all, and everything she felt inside, all her desperation and fear and love and pushed it into him, willing him to be himself. To be fully Kian with all of his Gift intact.

  But nothing happened. She’d healed more in the last twenty-four hours than she’d ever done in her life and she was exhausted.

  “Go, just go,” he panted. “Save yourself.” His body contorted, his teeth elongated, claws sprouted from his fingers. His scream was black with despair and it curdled her bones.

  “Danu, help me,” she whispered.

  And just like one of Cassie’s visions, it came to her. She knew what to do.

  She threw herself onto Kian’s writhing body and gripped him hard. He bucked and twisted, the curse ripping through his limbs. She pressed her face into his chest and gritted her teeth as his flesh writhed beneath her skin. She pulled the last of her power, and all of her love, and wrapping it around him she rode the storm of his change.

  Black diamond dust swirled around them. It whipped into a tornado of magic pulling and tugging at her, trying to make her let go. She dug her fingers into Kian, gouging him with her nails and fingers and the spell-wind sucked her back. Pushing more healing power into him, with everything she was, she willed him to be whole.

  To be a man.

  To be hers.

  Muscles flexed and bulged, ripping through the tight white and gold satin, shredding it into pieces as his bones morphed and shifted, and he became a wild boar, his bristles slick and slippery under her hands, one tusk sprouting too near her face. She nearly let go, but he shifted to a wolf, black as night and easier to hold. She dug in, re-anchoring her fingers and her magic, and he changed in her arms, sprouting huge wings and feathers and the long, sharp talons of an eagle, black with a golden head.

  The wind picked up. She shut her eyes against the sharp spraying dust and held tight to the screeching bird. Her body lifted off of Kian’s, pulled by the tornado’s howling swirl of magic her feet flew out behind her.

  The tempest swirled faster, and her hands slipped. She used her magic like a lasso, flinging it over the bird’s golden head, anchoring to him and using the reprieve to bury her fingers into his feathers.

  “I’m not letting go!” she screamed into the wind. “I let go before, and I’m not letting go now. You can’t have him.”

  The furious wind shrieked. An enormous gust nearly pulled her loose, but she hung on.

  And then it stopped.

  The air was still. And in her arms, she held Kian, naked and shivering, and whole. A man. Not a beast.

  For the first time since he’d been cursed Kian’s full Gift surged inside him, tingling along nerves he’d never fully appreciated. He pulled Bryanna to him and squeezed.

  Her hair had tumbled loose from its braid, she had blood and soot smeared across her cheeks, and smelled of burnt magic, but none of that mattered.

  “Hey, too tight,” she said, but her wide smile said other-wise.

  “I’m
not letting go,” he said, and squeezed her again. With Bryanna in his arms he was home for the first time in his memory. He would do everything in his power to make sure he never lost this feeling again. “I am never letting go. You are the most amazing woman in this world, or any of the others,” he said and kissed her.

  She tasted of magic, and healing, and desire, and what started off as a celebration turned into something else. He slowed and deepened the kiss, taking the time to lavish her with everything he felt inside. Love and lust and a longing for all the things he not only had never had, but never knew he was missing.

  She kissed him back, matching him lip to lip, tongue to tongue.

  He forgot about all they still faced and everything narrowed to this moment…this kiss…and this woman. Bryanna MacElvy.

  She pulled back. “What’s that?”

  He wanted only to kiss her again, distract them both and keep them isolated, but he too heard the sound of a hunting horn. And beyond that the sounds of battle.

  Reality slammed back. The stone prison they were in. The smell of Agrona’s burnt body lying on the floor. And Logan, still possibly imprisoned. He released Bryanna and crossed to the window. “We have to go.”

  “Oh Danu, I left everyone down below. Can you see what’s happening?” Bryanna joined him at the window.

  “Look down in the courtyard. Logan and Solanum are fighting Agrona’s soldiers.” Outside the gates he saw the curl of mother’s black banner climbing the hill, the silver gryphon glinting in the torchlight. “I need some clothes.” His wedding attire was shredded and burned, his singed and bloody plaid would have to do. He laid it out and pleated the long piece of fabric in record time, wrapping it around his waist and tossing the end over his shoulder. “Give me your sword and stay behind me.”

  They ran down the stairs and into the main hall. It was empty. He crossed the hall, paused at the open door, and turned to Bryanna. “I want you to stay here.”

  “But you need me, you need every fighter you can get.”

  He wiped a smudge of soot off of her face and kissed the tip of her nose. “Nay.” He smiled down at her. “I’ve seen you fight, you’re willing, but if Agrona hadn’t been already wounded you wouldn’t have stood a chance. I know you’re willing, but if you’re out there I won’t focus on anything but protecting you.” He kissed her lips, wishing they had the time for more. “You are a serious distraction for me.”

  She smiled. Despite the danger of their situation he felt like they were suspended in a bubble. Like he could take the time to kiss her and reassure her and be the man he wanted to be. But there wasn’t time to do any of that. Logan needed him.

  “How many of those spells do you have left?” he asked.

  She dug into her bag. “Just one.” She shivered. “But I’m not sure I want to use it, now that I’ve seen what they can do.”

  He gripped her arms and put his face inches away from hers. “You bloody will use it if you have to. I don’t want to come back here and find you dead.”

  She nodded. “Stay safe.”

  He pulled her into his arms one last time, squeezing her far too hard, until she made a small sound. He pressed his lips hard to hers, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the kiss, and taking everything she didn’t have time for back from her. He let her go and she stumbled back, her lips swollen and her expression soft. “Don’t run off,” he said. “I won’t be long.” And he turned before she could answer. Seeing her response in her glowing eyes. She would wait for him this time. He lifted his hand and called for Falin’s Rage and it fit itself into his grip as he walked into the main courtyard and saw his loyal man, Logan, swinging a sword and lopping off a soldier’s head.

  Adrenaline surged through him and he grinned. “Logan Ni Brennan, I’m here!” he called, the joy of finally being able to fight like a man rushing through his veins and taking away all his aches and bruises. He raised his weapon and laughed.

  There were too many of the troll-kin, and the Black Court was outside the gates. The odds were against them but he’d been bred to fight this battle. He had his best man on the field, his woman to back him up, and for the first time in years, his Gift flowed in his veins. He let the glorious joy of his magic pour into his sword and waded out into the fight.

  “Good of you to drop in.” Logan spun around and took out another guard. “Be careful, their spears are tipped with iron.”

  “Well that’s hardly fair,” he said, and laughed again. The familiar stench of war, of blood and guts and oiled metal floated through the air, and his Gift and pleasure surged. “Or maybe it only evens the odds.” He laid into a troll-kin, slashing and hacking and taking him down.

  He fought beside Logan, until they were cut off from each other by a small surge of the brutal soldiers. He cut and sliced and jabbed his way through, the battle lust zinging in his veins.

  “Kian!”

  The huntsman was on his knees, fighting two men and too far away to get to easily. Blood dripped down his arm and for the first time Kian realized that the huntsman was fighting injured. Across the courtyard, Solanum blurred into movement, mowing down soldiers as the black dog moved relentlessly to Logan’s side.

  Kian sliced through his opponent’s throat, scooped up the downed man’s shield, and took a quick survey of the situation. Half the troll-kin who’d been in the courtyard when he’d arrived were down. They’d almost won. “Hang on, I’m on my way.” He turned and stabbed into another soldier, his point sinking under the man’s breastplate and deep into his flesh.

  The horn sounded again and the wooden gates disintegrated. The wide black winged form of the Morrigan flew in, dragging a small, grey figure. Behind her, more troll-kin pushed to get into the keep, and behind them, flew the banners of the Black Court.

  All the fighting stopped as the queen spoke, “Prince Kian, you disappoint me. Again.” Her massive wings batted the air as she landed, the breeze drying the sticky wetness on his skin. She landed in the only spot in the courtyard that wasn’t covered in blood or gutted bodies.

  “I see you have your lackey with you.” He nodded at the gnome cringing at her side.

  “He’s been useful.” She let Beezel go and gave him a small push. “But letting you escape Cairngloss was his last mistake. When we return to court, he’ll be watching the death of his wife.” Her purple eyes whirled. “I think I’ll let at least some of the children live, so I have someone to kill when I feel angry.”

  The gnome took a few stumbling steps, before collapsing and lay on the ground. He lay on the ground, his pitiful shoulders heaving. Kian felt sorry for the bugger, but he’d chosen his side.

  “Now, enough of this nonsense.” The queen raised her voice. “It’s time to marry your cousin and be a good boy.”

  He could see that she was trying to stay in control, but the warning signs were there. The wings that never kept still, the wildly spinning eyes, and the hair. Always the hair. The barometer of his mother’s moods writhed and coiled up into the air.

  She was close to losing it, but he had never felt more in control.

  “No, Mother, it’s not time for me to marry Agrona. It’s time for me and mine to leave.” He waved at Bryanna who hovered by the large doors of the keep. She nodded and darted next to Logan. The two of them moved to his side. “Logan, open a portal.” Solanum took out the last few Brethren in his way, and took up the post behind them.

  “You might think twice about leaving.” She waved a hand. “Bring out the prisoners.”

  From around the corner of the massive curtain wall, Haddon and a soldier dragged three women. One was Logan’s wife Trina, and he could guess the other two were Bryanna’s sister and mother. The queen’s right-hand man pushed the women through the hole where the gate had been, and into the courtyard, moving them next to the queen.

  “You see, we have your human friends,” the queen purred. “Though only the Gods know why you would want to keep company with such commoners. But I can see your little girl-fr
iend next to you is distressed.” Her wings snapped out, spreading to their full width, electricity crackling off of the tips. “Now, you will marry your cousin, and we’ll have no more fuss.” She looked around the courtyard. “Where is Agrona?”

  He wasn’t waiting for his mother to discover that her plans were shot to hell. “Bryanna, remember your promise to use everything in that bag? Now!”

  Bryanna pitched the grenade. It sailed through the air straight at Haddon. He ducked and let the older prisoner go. The small explosive flew past him and into the soldier holding the red-head and Trina and burst into a flame. Sulfur flared and the soldier screamed, letting go of the women and batting at his flaming arms.

  “Open a gate!” he called to Logan. Logan moved closer to the keep and the purple-grey haze of a portal began to form between their tattered group and the keep’s front door. But Bryanna wasn’t moving behind him towards the gate. Instead she rushed back, heading for the trio of women heading toward her across the courtyard.

  Fear iced his battle-warmed veins.

  “Bryanna!” He faltered, his confidence shaken by dread. The woman he’d finally figured out he needed by his side was running straight for the queen who wanted her dead.

  Bryanna reached her family and the group headed back across the blood slicked cobblestones. Bryanna stretched out a hand toward him. “Come on, Kian, let’s go.”

  “No!” The queen raised her hands up, palms flat. The battle-rush flared and he used the adrenaline to fuel his Gift, getting a shield up as the blast of power slammed into him. It hit him hard, and he lost his balance. Another one came, the familiar black energy lashing into him and knocking him to the ground.

  Someone screamed and he lost sight of the women.

  “You ungrateful bastard.” His mother had gotten stronger. He wondered how many men Agrona, in her quest to be a princess, had devoured and given over to the queen. “I’ve given you everything, and when I need you to give me one simple thing, this is how you repay me? With rebellion?” She struck again. He rocked back, landing on his burnt arm, and she took another step forward while he reeled from the agony.

 

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