The Fae Queen's Warriors

by Tara West

  “Hold me,” she whispered.

  He wrapped her in his arms, kissing her temple and vowing he’d do whatever it took to chase away her demons, which meant no way in hell was she returning to her husband.

  KYRIA HELD TIGHTLY to Titus, feeling safe and loved. She wished she could stay with him forever, but once the king learned she would not be able to get her uncle to submit to him, he would demand she return to Sawran and then what? She thought about how easily she’d killed Brutus, but he’d been drunk. She remembered the king’s hands around her neck, how he said he could easily crush it, and trembled. She didn’t know if the life water gave him unusual strength, but she didn’t want to find out. She thought of the blade Evander had given her. She’d have no choice but to slit his throat if she was forced to go back, but what about Demendia and her dragons?

  “Why do you shiver?” Titus asked, brushing his lips across her forehead. “Is the water not warm enough?”

  “It’s warm.” She traced one of the raised scars on his shoulder, pleased when he didn’t flinch. There’d been a time when she wasn’t allowed to touch him, but that changed after Alexi died. She wished she could map every contour of his body, committing the feel of him to memory in case their reunion was fleeting.

  “What can I do to chase away your nightmares?” he murmured, dragging calloused knuckles down her cheek.

  A soft moan escaped her lips. How she loved his touch. His hands were as coarse as sand, but his touch was gentle, and she loved it. That sensitive juncture between her thighs swelled with need, and her nipples hardened when his chest hair tickled them. Never in her life had she desired anyone as badly as she wanted Titus at that moment. “Make love to me.”

  He searched her eyes. “Kyria, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  “I know.” She drew a lazy circle around his rock hard nipple, wide and flat against a broad chest, “but I need to feel loved. I need you.” When she looked up at him with pleading eyes, she knew he was about to capitulate.

  “Goddess save me,” he growled and crashed his lips down on hers.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding into his swollen cock, groaning into his mouth. He tasted of warm mead and spices, and she never wanted him to break the kiss. He picked her up and laid her down across a fur rug on the outer edge of the pool. She spread her legs and arms, welcoming him.

  Her lips sought his, but he was trailing fiery kisses down her neck and collarbone. When he stopped to suck each breast, jolts of pleasure shot through her, sending desire all the way to her toes. Her swollen sex throbbed with need. When his lips trailed down her stomach and dipped between her thighs, she thought she’d come undone.

  He buried his face in her mound and sucked her swollen pearl. She fell back on the furs, liquefied from the inside out. He slid a thick finger inside and broke her barrier.

  He pulled out and looked at her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, reaching for him.

  “I would’ve been more gentle."

  Getting up on her elbows, she admired his big, fleshy spear and the trail of dark hair from his groin to his navel. His finely sculpted body, especially the tight abs, was more beautiful than a statue of a demigod. “You were perfect.” Holding out her arms to him, she spread her legs wider. “Please finish.”

  Much to her relief, he knelt between her legs, the tip of his thick erection probing her aching sex. She waited with burning desire while he took his time sliding into her. Only when he’d completely filled her did she heave a breath of relief. He felt glorious.

  He kissed her passionately, tongues sparring and circling each other while he slowly tunneled into her. Ignoring the discomfort of him stretching her, she focused on that one spot that he kept hitting over and over until she thought she might die from the pleasure.

  Her orgasm robbed her of breath and reason, spiraling around her senses and wrapping her in euphoria’s cocoon. It was so powerful, and lasted so long, she thought her heart would burst from too much pleasure.

  When he groaned into her mouth, stilling, she felt the most curious and delicious tingle of his cock throbbing inside her, which set off another orgasm as powerful as the first. This one swept her up like a rogue wave, carrying her out to sea, knocking her about like a raft caught in a torrential storm.

  Just when she thought he’d finished, he continued thrusting, this time with more tenderness. He built her desire, bringing her to orgasm with tender kisses and shallow strokes. She cried his name as he spilled his seed with a groan, and a fierce orgasm claimed her, this one seizing hold of her body and refusing to let go until every last pulse had run its course.

  He whispered words of love long after he withdrew and cleaned her with a damp sponge.

  Sated, she rested her head against his chest, floating in the sweet afterglow of the best orgasms of her life.

  “Why hasn’t your king taken you to his bed?”

  Her bubble of bliss popped. Why would he bring up that monster while they were basking in the afterglow of beautiful lovemaking?

  He sat up. “Please tell me, sprite.”

  She slipped into the water, doing her best to hold herself together. “It wasn’t the right time.” Even though he’d already cleaned her, she sponged between her legs with jerky movements, angry with him for bringing up her husband.

  “It is always the right time to make love to you, my beauty.” Slipping into the water behind her, he encircled her in a strong embrace. “He knows about your Fae blood, doesn’t he?” he asked, gently pinching her nipple.

  She brushed his hand away. “I haven’t been very good at hiding it.”

  “The royals despise them. They’ve ordered the execution of anyone with Fae blood.”

  Elbowing him away, she glared at him. “You think I don’t already know that?”

  He held up his hands. “Please don’t be angry. I need to understand why he would marry someone he means to kill.”

  Anger shot through her chest like cannon fire as she backed away from him. “Why would you ask me these questions?”

  “Because I care about you.” He reached for her. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Emotion welled up in her throat. Why would he do this to her? “Don’t ruin this.”

  “Ruin what? I want to help you, my love.”

  “I don’t want to talk about my troubles tonight. I just want you to love me.”

  “Very well,” he said, holding her tight. “But don’t expect me to forget.”

  She wanted to add that she’d never expect Titus to forget a grudge, but her voice failed her as she clung to him, feeling as if they were slipping into the sea, monster waves about to crest over their heads, and he was completely oblivious to the danger.

  LOATHE THOUGH SHE WAS to leave the safety of his arms, it was late and Kyria was exhausted. After he helped dress her in her furs with all the care of a mother swaddling a newborn babe, she held tightly to his hand. When they stepped outside, she was hit with a blast of frigid air and was grateful when he wrapped an arm around her.

  As they carefully worked their way along the slippery path to the rows of huts below, she noticed two groups of men heaving ballistas toward them. The military machines were used to toss stones or spears and were the size of sleeping huts. She’d seen the weapons along the cliff, aimed in the direction of the dragons that swam below. The fact that these soldiers were moving them to the top of the hill meant only one thing, her uncle had warned them about the flying dragons. A lead weight settled in her stomach. The hilltop could easily be seen from beyond the wall below. Her husband’s soldiers camped outside would see. Just because Marcello was their commander, that didn’t mean there weren’t spies in the group who would report back to the king.

  “That lying bastard,” she said when she caught sight of her uncle below the ballistas, directing the soldiers as they moved the wooden weapons with thick ropes.

 
Titus squeezed her shoulder. “What is it?”

  “He told.” She released a string of expletives. “He said he wouldn’t.”

  Titus stopped next to the group of men hauling the nearest ballista. “What’s going on?” he asked an olive-skinned soldier with long dreadlocks hanging out of his helmet.

  The soldier was giving orders, pointing to their final destination with the tip of his sword. “The general has ordered us to turn ballistas to the sky.”

  Titus’s jaw went slack. “He expects a threat from that direction?”

  “We don’t question the general.” The soldier laughed. “We follow orders.”

  Kyria thought she was about to be sick.

  Titus pulled her close. “What’s the matter? You’re as pale as the moon.”

  “The king’s men will see it, and they’ll know I told my uncle about the flying dragon.”

  Anton joined her. “Niece, are you unwell?”

  She was so angry, she dared not answer lest she say something she’d regret. She simply glared at him while willing her teeth to stop chattering.

  “She’s not used to the cold,” her uncle said to Titus. “Take her inside.”

  “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone,” she said, unable to contain her rage.

  He smiled. “I didn’t. They are moving the ballistas because I told them to, but they don’t know why.”

  Did he think playing with her life was a joke? What about her friends’ lives or her parents? Did none of them matter to him? What had happened to the kind uncle who’d taken her on his knee as a child, telling her the reason he’d joined the defenders was to keep her safe? “The king’s men will see them if they haven’t already.” She pointed at the ballistas.

  “They will be camouflaged by daybreak,” he said, completely unconcerned.

  Her ire was growing, flaming her face like Mount Olion before an eruption. “You take them for fools.”

  “I’m sorry.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “But I must protect my men at all costs.”

  She was hurt by his words. By all costs, even if it meant sacrificing his niece. “I see,” she said, averting her gaze. She couldn’t look at the man only to feel the sting of betrayal in her heart.

  “When I swore an oath to the defenders, I put them above all else.” He pounded his chest with a meaty fist as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Even my blood.”

  Kyria gave a start when a menacing growl rose from Titus’s chest. “Now that you’ve put her life in danger, the least you can do is offer her protection.”

  His attention snapped to Titus. “You forget your place, Commander.”

  “My place is protecting her, the oath I swore to my defender brother. She’s not going back to the king.”

  “I will discuss that with her later.” Pulling his sword, he pointed it at the cluster of huts at the bottom of the hill. “Return her to your hut before she freezes to death.”

  Titus held his ground. “I will be present for this discussion.”

  Anton smirked. “Stand down, Commander.”

  Titus refused to back down, looming larger and bigger like a dragon ruffling his wings.

  She tugged on his hand. “Come on, Titus.” She dragged him back down the hill, trembling when the wind whipped her hair across her face like thousands of icy whips. As angry as he was at Anton, she didn’t want Titus getting into trouble over her. This wouldn’t be the last confrontation they had with her uncle, especially not now that she knew he cared nothing for her. The realization was like a mallet to her heart. How many more men would betray her before she stopped trusting them altogether?

  Chapter Sixteen

  KYRIA, KYRIA, CAN YOU hear me? Kyria! Answer me, sister!

  “Alexi!” She shot up with a start, chest heaving, and looked around the small hut for her brother.

  “What is it?” Titus sat up beside her.

  It took a moment to remember where she was and why she was naked beside a roaring hearth. “Alexi. He’s here!” she said and pulled the warm furs up over her breasts, suddenly self-conscious about her nudity.

  After they’d crawled into the furs last night, Titus had taken her one more time to the backdrop of Theron and Quin’s gentle snores from across the room. She didn’t even care that they hadn’t been alone. Her need for Titus had outweighed her modesty. Afterward she fell asleep in his arms beside the fire, a perfect ending to a horrific week. Titus had thoroughly chased away her nightmares, even though she feared their time together was only fleeting.

  “Look at me, sprite.” He gently draped a hand over her shoulder. “He’s dead.”

  “No, no! I heard him calling me.”

  He dragged a hand down his face with a groan. “You were dreaming.”

  Her heart faltered. This was just like when he laughed at her about the winged dragon. “It wasn’t a dream.”

  “Sprite, listen to me. You’ve been under a lot of stress.”

  “You said you trusted me.” She hated the condescending look in his eyes. “That you’d stop belittling me.”

  “I’m not doing that. Take a deep breath and relax.” He let out a slow breath to demonstrate.

  He thought her mad. Perhaps being so near to where Alexi died had caused her to dream his voice. But it had felt so real. Had he been speaking to her from the afterlife? She frantically looked around for her brother, saddened when she didn’t see him. Even Quin and Theron were gone, their bedrolls empty.

  The earth shook, and the walls heaved like they were about to cave in on them. The cupboard above the table rattled, spilling its contents.

  “Get down,” Titus said, pushing her flat and pulling a fur over their heads.

  She gazed at him in the dark while he hovered over her. “What’s happening?”

  “The mountain is shifting. It does that sometimes.”

  Kyria was painfully aware of that stiff protrusion between their nude bodies. She shifted beneath him when it pressed into her stomach. How could he desire her at a time like this?

  After several tense heartbeats, the ground settled and they emerged from their cocoon unharmed. Titus stood and assessed the damage, his large manhood jutting from him like a spear. He didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest. He frowned at a broken piece of pottery and picked up a shield that had fallen from its peg by the door, then wrapped a robe around himself as the door swung open.

  Quin and Theron came in and set pitchers and bowls on the table before shrugging out of their furs and slipping off their boots. Embarrassed, she pulled a fur around her shoulders and another up over her breasts.

  “Everyone okay?” Quin asked.

  “We are.” Titus said. “How’s everyone outside?”

  “All seems well.” Theron shrugged as if the unstable earth was no big deal.

  Quin tossed an apple in the air before handing it to her with a wink. “That wasn’t a decent shake.”

  “More like a hiccup,” Theron agreed, handing her a bowl of porridge.

  “Thanks.” She smiled at them, even more concerned about her nudity as she tucked the fur tightly under her armpits.

  “How did you sleep?” Quin asked.

  “Fine.” Heat flushed her face. “Thank you.”

  “Hungry?” Theron asked, fishing a spoon out of his pocket.

  Setting down the apple, she accepted the spoon from him. “Famished.”

  She was less than pleased when she tried to dig into the porridge. It was harder than drying concrete. She took a bite of the thick paste, barely able to chew it.

  Theron’s face fell. “You don’t like it?”

  “She picked grit out of her teeth. “It’s a little thick. Are there no eggs or ham?”

  “Eggs and ham?” Theron snorted. “We’re not at your family manor.”

  He and Quin broke into laughter, though were quickly silenced by Titus’s dark look.

  She didn’t mind their jokes. They were just trying to lighten the mood. She set the spoon down. “You deserve eggs and h
am for all you do for Delfi.”

  Theron gave her a pointed look. “Tell your king that.”

  “He’s not my king,” she snapped. Now she was offended.

  Theron dragged a chair across the furs and straddled it. “Then whose king is he?”

  She ran a finger over a bruise on the apple. Her father fed bruised apples to the animals. He wouldn’t even feed them to his servants. Yet their nation’s heroes were forced to eat dried sludge and rotting fruit? “He serves none but himself.”

  Kneeling beside her, Quin took her hand in his. “I wish you weren’t married to him.”

  “Me, too.” Her front fur slipped down, revealing the top swell of her breasts. She quickly pulled it back up but not before Quin’s eyes bulged.

  “You’re naked,” he said.

  Her cheeks burned hot. “I know.”

  Titus stood after lacing his boots and slipping into another fur.

  “Oh.” Quin looked at him. “Did you two?”

  Titus grinned, then winked at Kyria. “We did.” He bent over Kyria to give her a kiss. “I have to relieve myself and see if repairs are needed after the quake.” He gave Quin and Theron a pointed look. “Take good care of her.”

  “Of course we will. We wouldn’t think of taking advantage of Alexi’s sister.” Quin gave Titus a middle-finger salute.

  Titus grumbled and left.

  Quin and Theron were upset with Titus for bedding her. They quickly dressed to go out, but they didn’t don on all their armor.

  Quin stopped in the doorway. “We’ll be back,” he said. Then went out.

  She stared at her porridge, her appetite gone, hoping Quin and Theron wouldn’t be angry with Titus and her for long.

  QUIN SURGED AHEAD OF Theron, not sure if he wanted to hug Titus or deck him. “Titus,” he called, ignoring the wind that burned his neck and face. “Hold up.”

  Other defenders passed them, their heads down as hard snow pelted them. It wasn’t a good time to be outside. He’d much rather be under the furs with Kyria.

  Titus said, “You should be watching Kyria.”