by A. K. Koonce
She’s exposed to me. Bare and I’m dying to know what she feels like.
What she tastes like.
I let my fingers drift along her skin, making slow work of gliding across her smooth flesh before taking her hip in my hand once more. She trembles beneath my touch, watching me closely. Waiting.
Firmly, I press my mouth over her pussy with a chaste kiss. Her eyes are big as she watches my every move, and the next time I kiss her there, my tongue slips out and caresses over her clit before I pull away as if it were another chaste kiss. Her gasp rewards me. The sound of her catching breath fuels me on. With both hands, I part her folds and lick up her sex from back to front, and I love the way her hands fist tighter into my hair. A low groan hums against my lips as my tongue strokes back and forth against her sweet pussy. Her head tips against the dark wall, cascading her pale hair down her shoulder as she struggles to keep quiet.
Fuck quiet. I want to hear every breath ripping from her lungs. I want her screaming.
But I also really want her to myself at the moment too.
The flat of my tongue flicks against her clit before I suck hard, her thighs clenching around me as she grinds herself against my mouth. Her legs tremble, and I know she’s close. Harder, I stroke her sex before circling her clit and coming right back down to do it over, and over, and over again.
Her moan is a gasp of rasping sounds as her sex becomes slicker against my tongue. The sweet taste of her orgasm has me groaning against her. She leans back, her chest rising and falling, and I don’t give her a second to catch her breath before I’m lifting her. Her thighs lock around my hips, and I hold her in place against the wall.
Hooded eyes meet mine, and my heart’s pounding so loud in my ears it’s all I hear.
Until she speaks in a quiet whisper that makes my blood pump even faster.
“I love you so much.”
The simple statement washes away my fears of inexperience, and my doubts, and all the shit that’s clouding my mind.
Because it’s just her and me right now.
“I love you too.” I study her sweet features as the tip of my dick slides against her folds.
The slick feel of her glides against me, and I take my time sinking in. She caresses every hard inch of me until I’m groaning against her neck. My lips brush there at the base of her throat and she tilts her head for me. I press another slow kiss to her damp skin. Her fingertips dig into the back of my neck as I start to rock my hips against hers. Once more, I flick my tongue across her neck before leaning my head to her shoulder as I just enjoy the feel of her.
My lashes flutter as her sex tightens against my shaft. She feels so fucking good. Everything about her feels good. Amazing. Perfect.
Not just the sex. Everything.
I was alone before her, but it wasn’t until we screwed up our lives together that I ever really felt like my life was … perfect. This terrible setting in the Underworld.
This is perfect.
My pelvis grinding against hers, my dick thrusting in as far as I can go, has her clenching around me, causing a shaking gasp to leave her lips. Her orgasm soaks down my cock and it makes a feeling tighten within me as I thrust even harder, her back slamming against the wall until I come so hard I still instantly against her.
My mouth slams against hers. The tight grip I had on her thighs loosens as I kiss her over and over again. Her breaths mix with mine, and we both let our heads rest against each other.
I want to hold her here forever. I want us to stay just like this in this moment of perfection.
It takes a moment for me realize I lost my virginity in this moment of perfection … in the Underworld.
But I don’t even care.
Because there’s no magical bond between us.
And she still loves me.
Chapter Twenty
The Magic of the Wild Hunt
Violence
Our steps quicken as walk nearer to my father’s bunker. That’s our exit. This is where our journey ends.
Finally.
My attention drifts up to Cameron’s, and he passes me a knowing look that warms every inch of my body. I can’t believe this chapter of our lives is over. So much has happened and so much has changed.
What’s next for us? Link’s palm pushes down my lower back, and he ushers me through the ripped metal wall that leads into the bunker. Nollix steps through, his boots sounding along the metal flooring.
My hand extends to Cameron, and excitement starts to buzz through me.
I can’t believe it’s really over.
His fingertips skim against mine just as he steps inside. The Underworld is now a part of our past. His hand falls to his side the moment he’s inside. Dark hair slips into his eyes as he tilts his head at me, but his gaze searches the room, not staring at me but around me. He turns in his place, looking peculiarly out into the Underworld before looking around the room once more. Confusion lines his handsome face.
“Vi?” He pauses after saying my name.
Link passes Nollix a quick look.
“Cam, what’s wrong?” I reach for him but he steps past me, before sprinting off into the house.
“Violence, where are you?”
My heart drops through my stomach as I turn to race after him.
“Violence?” His voice is a roaring sound of fear that shakes through the metallic building.
“Shit, he can’t see us.” Nollix looks to me with wide eyes. The inky color no longer fills his gaze and the deep blue color now looks back at me.
But all I can think about is the sound of Cameron’s voice. Because he thinks he’s alone. He thinks he’s lost me.
I remember the way he said he was so terrified to let me go.
My boots storm through the house, sliding against the tattered papers along the floor before I’m racing from room to room. With a hard shove of my magic I tear away the veil of the Wild Hunt. He can see me now. He can see me.
As soon as I find him, he’ll be able to see me.
Each empty room of the enormous bunker causes a new feeling to twist through my stomach. His voice no longer echoes along the walls. I can’t hear a single sound within the house. Nollix and Link trail after me on quiet steps.
“Vi, I think he left,” Link’s fingers drift down my arm and his touch brings me back, it grounds me for a moment.
“He must have went looking for you. Let’s just get to the surface, we’ll find him.” Nollix tilts his head until he’s peering down into my eyes.
He could be anywhere.
I finally had him.
Only to lose him.
***
The cold wind hits my face, and I can’t help but search him out between the graves. My gaze drifts over the white, curved stones, along the damp grass, into the thick woods. I look for him everywhere we go. He must have run. How fast can one Warlock run? Where would he have run to so quickly? Did he think I used my magic to disappear?
Link slips his hand in mine, squeezing lightly. The feeling in my chest tightens even as Nollix pulls me against him, his arms wrapping around my body.
“We’ll find him, Vi.” His lips brush against my temple, and I let my tired eyes close to the feel of it.
What did I think would happen? He broke our bond, and I let him walk out of my life.
The pity party is still at the front of my mind, even as magic starts to swirl in the breeze. Nollix lifts his palm as his fingers start to drift away from him on glittering specs. The wind carries away each little piece of him.
My father’s magic isn’t hiding me away and the Underworld isn’t veiling us anymore. We’re back in the real world for less than ten minutes and it’s happening already.
The power of nature is all around us once again. And it wastes no time welcoming us home.
“The Wild Hunt has shit timing,” Nollix whispers as his face starts to swirl away, his body leaving me slowly as my own hands start to break down into that beautiful dust.
A
tear slips down my cheek. It dampens my skin for a single second before the magic rips it away too. And then I’m swirling into the crisp night air.
If it were different, if things were different, I’d enjoy the feel of our flight. It’s one of my favorite things. Letting my life glitter across the stars as we journey into an unknown place.
I carry my heavy worry with me as we travel to where ever our magic takes us.
Then we land. My feet hit the grass, and the women before me are familiar. Their long hair sways in the breeze, and their white dresses drift along the dirt. The three Reveries chant a quiet sound that I remember hearing when I first became a member of the Wild Hunt. It’s a spell specifically for us.
Their thick words carry into the night for several moments.
And when I lock eyes with the Warlock before me, my words catch in my throat. His gaze drifts past me, into the forest beyond, and my heart sinks as I realize the veil is back in place and he can’t see me. I know the moment the power of the Wild Hunt ties into his blood. Because his gaze focuses solely on me. He steps away from the three Reveries, swooping under their arms and his quick steps bring him to me in an instant.
His hands settle low on my hips as his attention shifts across my features, like he hasn’t seen me in years instead of hours. The feel of his shoulders beneath my palms has me pulling him closer.
“Why did you do that?”
He left his life to join us. He joined us in this in between that we’re stuck in away from the rest of the world. And he’s smiling about it.
He’s either a genius or an idiot.
“When you left me, when I couldn’t see you any more, it was fucking terrifying. But I remembered how the Wild Hunt would accept my sorry ass.” His attention shifts to Nollix and Link, and the two Fae pass a sarcastic smirk between themselves. His words pull my gaze back to him. “I spent my whole life without you, Vi. I spent my whole life trying to figure out where I belong.” His head dips low and his tone becomes a promising sound that makes tears come to my eyes for the second time tonight. “I belong right here. With you. Besides,” his gaze passes to the two Fae at my side. “I know how much Cupcake missed me while I was gone.”
Nollix steps closer until his palm wraps around my hip. Link holds my gaze, and I reach out to him, tangling my fingers with his.
“He was pretty worried about you.” Link’s lips tilt into a smile.
“I did miss you, Warlock.” Nollix’s serious tone has a hint of confusion slipping into Cameron’s features. “I missed the way she smiles when you make those stupid jokes.” He kisses my cheek, and, for a moment, happiness is all I can feel.
The bond of magic between the four of us heightens the feeling of contentment into this warm feeling that tingles all through me.
We have the rest of our lives to feel this way; this perfect feeling of belonging.
I still feel it, even as the wind picks up.
I feel it even as the glittering magic of the Wild Hunt starts to pull the four of us away.
The End.
Short author’s note:
Thank you for reading Violence’s tale. At the start of 2018 I wanted to do a story about the Wild Hunt about, not only their powers with nature, but also about a deep, interconnecting bond.
I’m constantly writing and I don’t often spin off my books but nearly every book has an idea that triggers a new book for me. When I was writing the Severed Souls Series I kept being drawn back to the interesting Reveries Witches and how much they clung to the outskirts of society.
And with the constant thoughts of those Witches, Taming happened. My newest series about asshole dragon shifters, a Mage on the run, and too many secrets for one woman to hide, releases October 2nd!
Turn the page for an exclusive(unedited), never before seen sneak peek at Taming!
Chapter One
Beautiful Monsters
White flashes of moonlight glint against the glossy surface of the three objects in the old mage’s palms. Interest fires all through my veins as her frail hands lower them into the dirt, pushing at the dust until it’s made a nice mound over the three items. She pats the dirt sweetly once more before turning away, her long dress skimming against the ground as she returns to the dark cottage. Her white hair shifts against her back as she leaves, never once looking out at the road where I stand.
I’m a drifter. In a way, I’ve been a drifter my entire life. In the last five years, I’ve really taken the job pretty seriously though. This small, quiet village within the Kingdom of Minden is nice, unnoticeable, and easy for someone who wants to disappear to do just that.
That’s what I love about it.
This mage, Agatha, may be as old and dusty as this village itself, but she’s my only friend. I came to check on her. Every few days I check on her, visit with her and gossip about who the Prince is sleeping with now and why it isn’t me. I’m wasting the beautiful curves of my youth as she likes to tell me. I don’t have the heart to tell the blind woman that the Prince isn’t nearly as attractive as she thinks he is.
I might be a little bit of a bitch sometimes, but I’m not about to crush an old woman’s fantasies. That’s just cruel.
That’s what I came here for; mindless chatter. Until Aggie started ominously burying something in her front yard. People only bury things for two reasons; to remember what they once had, or to hide what they once had.
The thin material of my dress brushes lightly against my thighs as I quietly make my way up the dirt path. The front yard has a few small bushes that are overgrown, concealing one window and skimming against the glass of the other. Not that she could see me even if she looked out.
But she’s a mage. A powerful mage. Much stronger than myself really.
If she wanted to know what waited outside her little home, she would.
Hesitantly, I linger near the dirt that’s piled over the objects she buried. My gaze shifts to the arched front door. I came here for a visit with a friend.
I don’t have many friends. Okay I don’t have any aside from Aggie if I’m being honest. But fuck, she buried something under the light of the full moon. She all but did a ritual out here with a sacrificial goat. She could have disposed of them in a clandestine place but she didn’t. I can’t just ignore that.
I lower myself, falling on my hands and knees and begin clawing at the dry dirt. It’s a rapid and almost manic drive to find out what lies here. My conscience is quickly pushed aside as the dirt sinks into my nails with every handful of earth I rip away. The clinking sound of my bracelets makes my nerves skitter with every sound they make. A smooth curve beneath rocky particles of dirt glides against my fingertips. My palm sweeps over the hard surface once more, pushing aside the grit to see the three objects underneath.
They’re … eggs.
Enormous eggs.
Large animals are worth a large price.
The animal trader in me is already mentally calculating what a beast this size could be worth. Imagine what three of them would be valued at.
With both hands, I try to steal away the top one, my arms aching as I realize the monstrous eggs are just as heavy as they look. My gaze flickers back to the golden glow of Agatha’s front window. I could come back for the other two, but it’s a mile-long walk. Would she come back out tonight?
I pull at the end of my skirt and quickly try to pile the three eggs into the thin material. A tearing sound rips through the silence, but as I stand, they hold in place against my body; straining against the cloth but not falling to the ground.
I’d hate to harm one of them.
I feel like an asshole. Who steals from a blind woman? Who does that?
… I do.
Why would Agatha bury them? She isn’t as familiar with creatures as I am. Perhaps she thought they were useless. She’s blind, so perhaps she didn’t realize they were eggs at all.
But she’s also a mage. So it’s even more likely she knew what these things were and wanted to rid herself of
them as quickly as possible.
I, on the other hand, am not about to throw away money, or the lives of whatever these animals might grow up to be.
Their lives will be worth living. I definitely want to make a profit, but honestly, I just can’t stand the thought of not helping them. I don’t show it, but my little, slightly selfish heart loves these types of mysterious creatures.
Raising and selling magical animals is just a business for me. I can’t get attached. I have to make a living in this world the only way I know how.
On awkward steps, and with aching arms, I carry the boulder like eggs home. The dark forest surrounds me, shutting out the majority of the moonlight and making me stumble more than once before my small shack comes into view.
Glowing embers of ruby eyes greet me as I get closer. The sweet little hellhound rubs his warm temple against my thigh as I pass but I don’t have a free arm to return the affection to my pet.
The dark and fuming hellhound, Grim, might just be the love of my life. It’s a pathetic love life that I’m leading, I’ll admit it.
With the force of my hip, I bump open the door. A creaking cry comes from the hinges, and I don’t bother closing it behind me as I settle in near the dwindling embers of the fire. The one room home is tiny with a cot on the far left side of the room and a worn and rickety kitchen table on the other side. The small fire easily warms the abandon shack that I made my home.
The smooth curve of one of the eggs fills my hands. My own reflection peers back at me on the iron like surface. The two others glisten near the fire. In the lighting, I can really make out their details. One’s a pure white color. It shimmers like fresh snow. The other’s as dark as blood. The third one, the one that I hold in my hands, is a consuming deep smoky tone.
They’re shining and beautiful.
“But what are they?” I whisper to myself.
