Curse of the Fae King (Scattered Siblings)

by Kryssie Fortune

Leonidas inhaled so sharply his breath whistled in his throat. “I have heard of him and of this League.”

  “Well, I haven’t,” Meena snapped. “Who are they? And what do they want with my mother?”

  The prisoner’s backbone stiffened slightly. He kept his legs crossed and hips rolled inward, but his voice reverberated with misplaced pride. “Me and Fred are their eyes and ears in Whitby—spies for a secret organization and all that. Everyone knows this town attracts all things paranormal and strange.”

  Meena hated his superior tone. Scared or not, he condemned her—just like the Witches she’d once thought were her friends. They hated her lack of magic, but this People’s Defense League hated her for her family connections. Leonidas—a haughty warrior Fae—would despise her for not working magic. Even the Goth shop owner had fired her. All she ever wanted was to please. Rejected again. Sweet Hekate, why don’t I belong anywhere?

  The prisoner kept a wary eye on Meena’s knife. “We spotted the woman in Pannet Park. When she sat by the pond, the water lilies went crazy. It was like they were competing to see which one could put out the best flower. Thing is, Fred’s a bit of a gardener, and he knows they don’t bloom until June. They simmered down when she left, but we followed her to the herb farm, then reported back to Mordred. See, I said I’d tell you everything.”

  Lipstick grew restless guarding their other prisoner and ambled up the hillside. When he spread his wings and sniffed at their voluble captive, their prisoner fainted.

  “You’re a bloodthirsty woman. Quick-witted too.” Leonidas gave her a full-on grin that warmed her soul and melted her bones. His desire for her showed in his touch, the way he looked her up and down, but he still reached out and reclaimed his knife.

  When the Witches had turned on her for her lack of magical prowess, she’d felt the weight of her failure. Now the sexiest man she’d ever met wanted her. The approval in his voice filled a void inside her. She straightened her shoulders and grinned. “It’s a good job he caved when he did since we wouldn’t really have hurt him.”

  Leonidas raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t we? I already told you that you weren’t designed for battle, but at least I know your species now.”

  “You do?” she spluttered, surprised it was even an issue. She saw his aura darken, but no thunder or lightning ripped through it. She didn’t understand why she could see it without witchy powers, especially since she’d never seen one around anyone else.

  He curled his lip at the prisoner, then flashed her a smug smile that only added an extra sting to his words. “He named you a sprite or druid, both lesser species with a little green magic, but nothing of importance. Don’t frown. You are a beautiful woman, and my balls ache to possess you, whatever your origins. Once we free your mother, let me bed you until you scream my name. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll dig your fingernails into my back and squeeze your pussy tight around my cock. Then I must return to my own life and leave you to enjoy yours.”

  Meena didn’t know what hurt most—the way he called her a lesser creature, or the way he promised to abandon her after a bout of mind-blowing sex. “A word to the wise, my brave Fae warrior. You don’t seduce your way between a woman’s legs by telling her you’ll use her for sex, then disappear back where you came from—especially when her father did just that to her mother.”

  “I didn’t… I can’t—” He stopped, took a deep breath, and some of his haughtiness faded from his face. “No promises, Meena, but I want you in my bed and in my arms. Our lives are too different for us to have a future, but we should enjoy each and every moment we share.”

  Stay calm, she told herself. Don’t tell him he’s as prejudiced as this People’s Defense League. Not when you need his help. Sweet Goddess, she offered a silent prayer, don’t let my hurt show in my voice. But it did. “Glib, I’ll give you that, but a million miles from convincing. Sorry, Leo, you’re sexy as sin, but no way are you getting into my pants.”

  He swaggered, shoulders back and proud his woman called him sexy—only she wasn’t his to keep. Rather than argue, he purred, “We shall see. However, even my inherent magic has vanished. These humans could see both me and my dragon. How do we visit your meat market with Lipstick in tow? If this coward’s reaction’s anything to go by, we will cause panic. Besides, they have wrecked your family car.”

  “Let’s worry about that after we’ve found my mum.” She patted down the unconscious prisoner, then pulled some keys from his pocket. “These jokers had a tractor and trailer, so maybe while we ride up front, Lipstick could curl up in the trailer. How urgently do we need to feed greedy guts here? Can we head up to their farm first? It’s out near Sandsend, just a couple of miles from the abbey ruins where we first met.”

  LEONIDAS’S BALLS ACHED. His dick stood at attention and demanded he fuck his rainbow-haired beauty until she shrieked with delight. Elves’ blood, he was the Fae king. No woman had ever rejected him—until Meena. For once he’d have to work to get between a woman’s legs, but if he didn’t bed someone soon, he’d turn feral. The last thing he wanted was to scare Meena like that.

  He’d die before he hurt her, but the beast inside him wanted out in the worst way. It threw itself against his psyche, desperate to shatter the cage of cold emotion he’d built around it. This month, it wanted out early. Screaming in soundless agony, it beat its ham-hock fists against his chest.

  Leonidas’s aura darkened. A storm cloud of mixed desires swirled through it, but since he was deprived of his innate magic, no thunderbolts or lightning assaulted his inner barriers.

  He hated the wildness inside him, but his control was already wearing thin. He wanted to love Meena slowly and savor her sweet herbal taste. Just once he wanted to sate his own needs, not those of his mindless beast. Damn it, if he didn’t fuck her soon, he’d become the creature he despised—all fangs, claws, and uncontrollable cock.

  His father had tried to pen the beast that the curse created inside him—and Leonidas had hated the results. Herodotus had become a sexual predator that fed on writhing bodies, multiple orgasms, and a woman’s lifeblood. Unlike his father, Leonidas had never killed a lover…yet.

  Meena deserved romance and gentle passion, but he wanted to claw the clothes from her body and plunge his dick into her. Two more days, and his month was up—and so was Meena’s chance of a considerate lover. His beast was already rising. It demanded he take her, naked, kneeling on all fours. It wanted to sink its fangs into her neck as it claimed her from behind. Elves’ blood, he wanted it too. That bonding would make them inseparable, forever joined as one. Only true-mates bonded like that.

  His desires should disgust him, but he needed her blood as well as her body—just the way he would if she was the one woman he could claim as his true-mate. But she couldn’t be his, ever. Not when she lacked any otherworld status or magical prowess. His frustration and sexual hunger drove him—didn’t they? He needed to bed her to stay in control of his beast. This yearning inside him wasn’t anything to do with the genuine affection and warmth she sparked inside him. It couldn’t be, not when he’d have to move on next month.

  Part of him cared so deeply he couldn’t imagine his life without her. She’d already made her position clear on that. Better to lull her into a false sense of security, and once her resistance faded, he’d pounce.

  “Our dragon,” he announced, “can forage in the kitchen at this farm once we have cleared out the Elves and released their prisoners. You will stay back and stay safe. You would not like to meet Mordred of Arthington.”

  Elves’ blood, what’s Mordred up to now? He should tell Meena everything, especially since her mother was bound up in this mess. Some secrets weren’t meant to be shared, but his protective instincts screamed, Tell her as much of the truth as she needs.

  Meena’s scowl said she wanted an explanation, but he didn’t want to go into detail. Then he realized her mother’s life might be in danger and admitted, “He’s an immortal masquerading as a human. Your People’s
Defense League is full of fools.”

  Meena tossed her curls over her shoulder and glanced between Leonidas and Lipstick. He saw a flash of suspicion in her eyes. After a moment’s thought, she asked, “Elves? Everyone knows they died out ages past. And what’s this about someone masquerading as human? I don’t understand.”

  His superior smile made her bristle, but when he realized he could bargain for what he needed, he considered his words more carefully. “I will explain, but it will cost you a lover’s kiss.”

  She thought about it longer than he liked, then planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. He rolled his eyes and pulled her so close her nipples brushed up against his chest—a delicious pressure that made him crave more. “I said a lover’s kiss, not the kiss of my maiden aunt.”

  He needed to fuck someone soon—that or go insane. He hated mindless, impersonal sex. With Meena, everything they shared would be for their mutual pleasure and delight. Her wild herb and heather perfume tempted him as much as her body. She pursed her lips, pressed them briefly against his, then withdrew so quickly he winced.

  That brief kiss was branded into his flesh. And his cheek wasn’t the only part of him that burned. His dick throbbed with the need to screw her until she forgot everyone but him. With her, he couldn’t tell where his curse ended and his own needs began.

  He leaned toward her. Then when his lips should have touched hers, he paused and gazed into her eyes. His smile was flirty—a blatant sexual demand he hoped would win her heart and mind. Screw that. What he really wanted was her body. Wasn’t it?

  He touched his lips to hers—a butterfly caress that fired up his cock, right along with his heartbeat. He pulled back and gave her another slow, seductive smile. Everything about her—from the way gold flecks sparkled in her hazel-hued eyes, to the way she used her snarky tongue for defense—enthralled him. Damn it, he could think of a million other uses for her tongue, and every one of them involved it swirling intricate patterns on his flesh. Whipped cream? Honey? Even flavored body oil? He’d take any one of them as long as he licked it off her soft, sweet-smelling skin.

  His kiss started out playful—a light pressure that made Meena moan for more. When his tongue swept inside her mouth, he clamped one arm around her waist and buried his other hand in her hair. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Her resistance melted into an ocean of boiling fire and need. Her nipples pearled and her back arched, pushing her breasts up against him. She went on tiptoe and pulled his lips to hers. Meena licked his lips in invitation. He kissed her back, gentle, almost tentative. No way would he scare her with his beast’s intensity. If he didn’t screw her soon, his beast would break free and tear into her flesh. It’d be a bloodbath, but he’d slit his own throat before he hurt her like that.

  Urgent needs pounded in his balls, and only Meena would satisfy them, but if he cared about her at all, he’d do the right thing and push her away.

  Chapter Seven

  Leonidas reveled in the way she relaxed into his embrace and sucked the tip of his tongue. He groaned when she moved still closer, straddled his thigh. Her hips rubbed hard against him and gave him an instant hard-on. Now he craved her bare flesh rubbing against his, skin-on-skin contact that would drive them both wild.

  He forgot everything—his curse, the People’s Defense League, and the quest to save her mother—as she submitted completely. He wouldn’t do it. No way would he take her out here like an animal in heat—but Elves’ blood, he wanted to. He couldn’t offer her a future, and that hurt. All he could do was make their first time together so special she’d treasure the memory for as long as she lived. He certainly would. One woman out of thousands, she’d slipped through his defenses and crept into his heart. Elves’ blood, he didn’t know how he could ever let her go, but the beast inside him was an unfaithful, feckless creature he despised.

  Slowly, gently, he withdrew his tongue and broke off their kiss. She moaned again, her hips still grinding against his thigh. Ecstasy that even his beast enjoyed. It reared up and demanded more. His balls pounded with need. His cock pulsed. Elves’ blood, he’d never wanted a woman more.

  He nibbled her neck, then whispered in her ear. “You’ve paid the price, so I will explain about the Elves.”

  Her disappointed pout made him smirk. He pulled her to a boulder and sat. When he tugged her onto his lap, a sudden flash of anger shone in her eyes. “You jackass. I can’t believe you made me kiss you when my mother’s in danger. Rein in the magical seduction, or just take your dragon and leave.”

  Made her? Whatever simmered between them was genuine and real—an emotional storm that roared through him and supercharged his emotions. He’d kept his sexual predator locked in a cage of cold fury, but that drained his strongest emotions. His subjects called him unfeeling and aloof, but Meena warmed him, completed him. His Fae side wanted an impossible forever, but his beast wanted to bend her over the nearest boulder and fuck her until she couldn’t take any more.

  Her eyes narrowed in stubborn refusal, but with her, he was up for any challenge. He loved her quick wits and caustic tongue. Elves’ blood, he loved everything about her.

  When she’d moaned with desire, he’d almost spilled his seed. He knew he could fuck her right here, right now even if their prisoners were to recover and watch. She deserved silk sheets strewn with rose petals, not some windswept hillside on the North Yorkshire moors. He’d never wanted a woman so much, but he wanted her to have and to hold. Reluctant to add her to his beast’s mindless conquests, he rested his forehead against hers and inhaled her wild herb and heather perfume. With her buxom curves and handspan waist, she fulfilled his every sexual fantasy, but he wanted to sink his fangs in her neck and claim her hard. He felt as though a spring coiled around his heart, squeezing him until he thought he’d explode with longing and lust. Love even.

  Anytime soon, his animal side would burst free, and he’d forget gentle passion. He’d pounce on her like a panther—uncontrollable and vicious—but he fought to contain the madness that drove his inner beast.

  He held her so close his breath warmed her ear. “The Elves and the Fae are related, and we sometimes interbreed. It’s rare since our cultures have skirmished on and off since the civil war a couple of centuries back. Then a border dispute with the Lykae nation decimated their numbers, but believe me, they do still exist.”

  “Thanks for the history lesson,” Meena snapped. “Okay, Elves are for real, whatever the Witches taught me. Now tell me about this Mordred Arthington. And why do you think he’s only masquerading as human?”

  Leonidas’s voice dropped so low she had to move in closer so she could hear. “Don’t trust a word the Witches tell you. They’re despicable creatures who use their magic to ruin people’s lives. There’s a reason they’re reviled in human fairy tales.”

  Intent on his lecture, Leonidas ignored the hot flush that stained Meena’s cheeks. Instead he shifted her off his lap and rose to his feet. His fists clenched with fury and frustration. “A bloody Witch ruined my father’s life. Now she’s doing the same to mine. Gods, I daren’t even sire children after the way she cursed our bloodline.”

  When Meena answered, a glimmer of hope ran through her voice. “Curses can be broken. Can’t the Witch Council help? Even someone like my mo—”

  “No one can bloody help,” he snapped. “Do you think I haven’t tried? The most powerful Witch in existence cursed my father when he proposed. Elves’ blood, couldn’t she just have said no? Then she upped sticks and vanished, and no other Witch is strong enough to break her spell. I’ll bloody kill her if I can ever get my hands on her.”

  “Leo, I’m so, so sorry. Whatever your wicked Witch did, no one should live under a curse.” She laid her hand on his arm, unshed tears lending a soft shimmer to her eyes. Her quick sympathy helped shove his sexual predator back into its cage, but his time was running out all too fast.

  Pacing, unable to look her in the eyes, he snarled, “Too damn right. Enoug
h distractions. Back to the Elves. They have an overlord, Mordred, not a king, but they probably have exactly what they deserve. They’re a cruel race, and the way they treat their women is a bloody disgrace. One of their overlord’s titles is Lord of Arthington—and the director of the People’s Defense League is Mordred Arthington. It’s too much of a coincidence for them not to be one and the same. Some say he’s mad to be so open about his actions, and while he won his title by being the most brutal Elf out there, he wields so much dark power that no one dare contest him.”

  “And this Elf overlord” she asked, “the one who mistreats women, has my mother? Goddess, what I wouldn’t give for a magic arsenal right now.”

  He shrugged as he tucked his knife into the scabbard he wore gunslinger-style at his hip. Once he’d carefully recoiled his bullwhip, he told her, “Sorry, no magic weapons, so you’ll have to make do with me. I suspect Mordred gave the People’s Defense League Fairy dust to help them take your mother. It’s the rarest commodity, which means she holds considerable value in their eyes. They must have peppered your herb farm with it. That explains why I can’t use my powers, and our dragon can’t flash back home and fetch help.”

  “So the overlord has dark magic, and I’ve got…” Meena looked at him, then at Lipstick. Fear spread across her face.

  Aware she was scared and hurting, he went to put his arms around her. Fool that he was, he’d forgotten how worried she was about her mother. He should have chosen his words with more care.

  Rather than rest against him, she shoved him off and shook her head. “This gets weirder by the minute. Isn’t Fairy dust what Peter Pan used to make humans fly?”

  “No,” Leonidas snapped. He hated that her smile was brittle and forced, the sort that didn’t crinkle around her eyes. He could only give her his honesty, but not his heart. Truthfully, she’d stolen it already.

  “Yeah, it is,” she persisted. “Peter Pan shook Tinker Bell over Wendy’s head or something. Haven’t you ever watched Disney? Okay, cultural differences apart, the Elves have taken my mother prisoner. Tell me what they’ve done that could sap her powers.”