Warrior Fae Princess

by Breene, K. F.

  “I want to do this in a bed,” he whispered, turning off the water.

  “I love you.” She grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her other leg around him. His cock plunged a little farther into her, the fit perfect, the feeling exquisite.

  “I will always love you. I will do whatever is in my power to protect you. Always.”

  She kissed him tenderly as he carried her out, grabbing a towel on the way. At the bed, he dried them both before pulling back the covers and lowering her onto the silky sheets.

  She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling, her beauty amplified. “It tickles me that you take a second to get everything perfect before you fuck me.”

  He slid between her legs, rubbing his tip along her wetness. He braced himself at her opening and met her soft, deep, open eyes. The love he saw there humbled him, as did the silent invitation to share souls as they did magic.

  “I’m not fucking you right now, Charity. I’m making love to you.” He thrust his hips forward, groaning as she tightened around him, and sighed. “And I hate wet sheets.”

  She smiled as he started moving within her, deep, hungry thrusts that made the world drop away. Pleasure slammed into him, tightening his body as he delved deeper. Her hips swung up, meeting each downward movement. Their bodies slapped together. Her kisses were languid, full of feeling.

  She moaned, her hips swinging up into his downward thrusts. He worked faster, the pleasure mounting. Losing control. Needing her with all of his person. Needing to claim her in a way that blocked out his thinking and called to his wolf.

  Their combined power flowed and danced through the room. The pleasure pulsed higher, so intense that his cock felt like a live wire. He slammed against her, almost there. Right at the edge.

  “Yes, Devon, yes!”

  An orgasm slammed into him, so hard that black spots swam in his vision. So sweet that it dragged him under until there was no reality. No gravity. There was only the feel of her, her soft lips on his, her arms tight around his shoulders.

  He groaned, his heart full, emptying into her. She cried out, shuddering, clinging to his shoulders.

  He gulped for air as tingles ran his length, his cock still buried deeply inside of her. He pulled back, shuddered with a renewed tremor of pleasure, and slid it in slowly one more time. She shuddered again and moaned.

  “You’ve upped your game. That was incredible.”

  He smiled, and his limbs melted around her. “It’s been a long week of waiting. And imagining.”

  “As long as it wasn’t a long week of practicing.”

  He chuckled softly. “I’m not that stupid.”

  He turned onto his side and gathered her up into his arms. She settled her head into the hollow between his shoulder and neck, and she sighed in contentment. He let his eyes drift closed.

  Before sleep pulled him under, he heard, “After a little catnap, we’ll have to see if we can top it.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The next afternoon, Charity sighed as she sank into her couch. She stared at a lovely painting with interesting colors and wished it were a TV. She wanted to shut her mind off. Her day had been hectic and exhausting. She’d met her new grandmother and been warmly hugged. She’d seen the Second—her father!—off and on, and each time, she’d been warmly hugged. She’d met members of the council, which helped run the community, and had been hugged within an inch of her life. Random strangers smiled and hugged her. In fact, the only person who hadn’t offered her a hug was the Second’s assistant, Halvor, who’d randomly punched her.

  She much preferred the punch, and even more so the sparring that had followed it. It seemed Halvor would be training her instead of the normal trainers who worked with the village at large. Given the intensity of her fight with Devon, which her father and Halvor had witnessed, they thought she was worthy of training with the absolute best. That, or she was getting preferential treatment. She suspected a little bit of both.

  She didn’t argue. Halvor was incredible—lightning fast, perfect form, and fluent in moves she’d never seen before. He might never have seen actual battle, but he was no worse for it. The man was a living legend. Devon had better watch himself—soon she’d dominate him!

  Her father suspected that her fighting ability and magic, not to mention the fact that she was the result of his quest in the Brink, would eventually make people blind to her halvsie status. That was apparently a very big deal with these people. They didn’t say it outright—they were much too polite—but it constantly came up in conversation. She was so fast…for a halvsie. She had incredibly dainty and fae-like features…for one of half blood. Her magic was incredibly powerful…for someone with a human mother. They were mystified the human part of her hadn’t dulled her fae magic.

  She’d thought she’d gotten over the “for a…” hump by this point in her life, proving that she was more than her shitty upbringing, and yet here she was again. Only this time, it was her blood that was the problem.

  She had to own that the people as a whole weren’t quite what she’d expected. She’d thought she’d find a collection of fierce warriors that sat around campfires and gnawed chicken bones or something. Their living in closed-off domestic bliss wasn’t exactly the image Roger had painted. Many of them never having seen a battle, when the Realm was such a mess, seemed more than odd. Off, somehow. Then again, could she blame them? She didn’t relish going back through, and she barely remembered half the trip.

  She took a deep breath and let her head fall back on the couch. Despite all the warm hugs she’d endured from strangers, and the difference in expectation, she really did like it here. She saw herself in these people. Their magic was like hers, and they also shared her same brand of crazy. Couples didn’t just argue; they took their problems public and tried to kick the hell out of each other—the women as strong and capable as the men.

  It felt like the pressures of her life had finally eased. She didn’t have to struggle to survive here—she could just be.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. It opened a crack and a smiling Kairi peered in. Deep purple marred her right eye, her punishment for allowing Charity out of her sight. Charity had been aghast, but Kairi had nodded in agreement, saying, “They went really easy on me.”

  She’d popped in last night to help guide Charity’s magic. Right in the middle of an intense round two with Devon, Charity hadn’t realized anyone had snuck in. It wasn’t until after an earth-shattering climax that nearly made Charity black out that she noticed her assistant in the corner with her eyes squeezed shut, fingers in her ears, and a big smile on her face. It had been more than a little awkward.

  “Hey,” Charity said, waving. “What time is it?”

  Kairi blinked and turned, looking at the sky. “Probably four, Arcana.” She opened the door wider and walked in. Hallen, the other person who had been dogging Charity’s heels, followed her in. At least he hadn’t been on duty last night. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” Kairi said.

  Hallen stopped beside the couch, these people’s way of politely asking to sit down.

  “Yup, sure. Have a seat.” Charity gestured at the other end of the couch.

  Kairi giggled, something she did when Charity broke guardian customs in some way.

  She giggled a lot.

  “Yeah, I was wondering—”

  Another knock sounded at the door. Andy stood in the doorway. Fatigue—or was it unease?—had created lines around his eyes.

  Hallen, who’d been lowering himself onto the couch, straightened back up, partially blocking Charity’s view.

  “Yes?” Hallen asked, ever watchful of her. She was grateful for it, but the guy could be overbearing.

  “I thought I’d just stroll by and check in on Charity,” Andy said, keeping to the door.

  “That is Miss Charity, or Arcana to those not in her family, and we are seeing to her, I thank you.”

  “Ew, Hallen, give it a rest, man.” Charity waved her hand for Andy to come i
n. She’d put up with these people’s formality and politeness all day. She needed a break. “Come in, Andy. Where is everyone else?”

  Andy entered a little stiffly, though his smile was warm.

  “Hey, Charity,” he said, taking a chair to Charity’s right. Hallen stiffened at the informality and moved to stand near the door. He wasn’t a fan of things that weren’t just so. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I was half-dead.”

  His smile spread and the tightness evaporated from around his eyes, as though a weight had been lifted. He relaxed into the chair.

  “I was going to head over to you guys tonight and thank you for all you’ve done, but…” She flung up her hands and then dropped them again. “I’m exhausted. I’ve been doing the proper thing all day. Improperly, I might add. Do you think the pack would be pissed if I left it one more day? And are Penny and Emery staying with you guys? I haven’t heard a peep about them.”

  “Penny and Emery are staying with us, yes. They tried to leave on the third day after we got here, but a bunch of elves were hanging around, I guess. Emery thought it safest to wait for the pack. The crazy Red Hatter thought so, too, so that ended that. Now Penny drags Emery around this place, muttering about complex magic and stealing stones out of people’s gardens. And no, you don’t need to head down there tonight. Half the pack has been…we’ll say dating. They are dating in the evening, without going anywhere.” He waggled his eyebrows. “If you know what I mean.”

  Charity rolled her eyes. “Really, Andy, you too?”

  Andy rested a hand on his chest. “How dare you! I’m not like them, Charity. It’s one woman for me, all the way. Sadly, it’s taking many women for me to find that special one, but the search is on. One day…”

  Charity chuckled. “Oh my God, stop. So you’re settling in well here, then?”

  The humor dripped away from Andy’s face. He shrugged. “It’s beautiful here, don’t get me wrong. It’s probably the nicest place I’ve ever been. But it’s not my home, you know what I mean? These aren’t my people.”

  Charity sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced at Hallen and then Kairi, standing by, listening to every word.

  “Can you guys give us a minute?” she asked, wanting to let her guard down in a way she couldn’t if they stayed.

  Hallen stiffened, raised his chin, and sauntered out of the door. Kairi winked and followed, closing the door behind her.

  “He always does that,” Charity whispered. “When he stiffens like that, it means I’m doing something wrong, but damned if he’ll come out and tell me what. It’s so annoying. How am I supposed to learn?”

  “Have Devon teach you. That guy has all the rules down pat.” Andy paused for a moment. “Kairi is cool. She’s not like the others.”

  “The ones you…date?” Charity asked with a grin.

  Andy laughed. “Those girls aren’t interested in talking so much as—”

  “Never mind,” Charity said, covering her ears.

  “I mean, they do say a few words, like oh—”

  “I said I didn’t want to know!” Charity felt the tightness in her shoulders loosen a little. Andy had a way of chilling everything out. She needed that right now. “I know this place is supposed to feel like home, but…it’s all so strange, you know?”

  Compassion took over Andy’s expression. He entwined his fingers—he was listening.

  It was amazing how quickly she was learning to read silent cues. Though these people probably thought she wasn’t learning quickly enough.

  “I mean, if it was a pretty place at home—the Brink—that would be one thing. Like Montana, for example. If I suddenly had family in Montana, I’m sure I could acclimate pretty quickly. But…the sky is orange here. There’s gold sparkly dust floating around. And…it’s always pleasant. There are no clouds. No cold breezes to catch you unaware and make you curse the weather.”

  “That’s what you’re into? Cursing the weather?” A goofy grin slipped on Andy’s face.

  “I always thought California was just a little too nice, you know? Ninety percent of the time, the weather is lovely. Even in the winter, it’s mild and pretty. Not like Chicago. Those sudden shifts in weather in California, however rare, made me think of home. They reminded me of how far I’d come. But here…it’s like a fantasy land. I have no roots. I have no memory of where I’ve been and where I’m going. I’m a stranger, even though I fit in. Almost.”

  “Almost?”

  “I have a human mom. It’s something of a roadblock, apparently. I shouldn’t be this good at fighting, this powerful, this…fae-like…”

  “Ah. Yeah, they are pretty close-minded about anything different.” He adjusted his positioning. She had no idea if there was a hidden meaning in there somewhere, and thankfully, he wouldn’t expect her to. “But you know what, Charity? That’s just because they’re locked out here in paradise. There’s nothing new here. No new ideas coming from different people. It’ll probably be tough at first, but if anyone can shove them toward a different way of thinking, it’s you.”

  She nodded, taking that to heart. “It’s also weird calling a perfect stranger my dad. I never even called the guy I thought was my dad ‘Dad.’ And my grandmother is Grandmama? What am I, British?”

  Andy burst out laughing. “I haven’t met Grandmama dearest, but your dad seems really cool. He is personally overseeing the revamping of the gardens out by our…lodgings. He called them ‘frightful.’ He’s got one helluva green thumb, that guy.”

  Charity laughed with him, feeling lighter than she had since she’d woken up in the Flush. Maybe she should go over to see the pack after all. Hell, maybe she should move in with them until she was a little more acclimated to this place. They could all figure out how to fit in together.

  “You’ll get used to all of this,” Andy said, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Santa Cruz was probably weird at first, too, right?”

  She shrugged, allowing herself to absorb the truth of that statement. When she’d first moved, she’d felt lost for a good month. That feeling had faded with time, but she’d never felt the situation was permanent. Never laid down any roots.

  Maybe that was the reason she kept collecting little grievances like they were armor—this could be home. It was paradise. Charity belonged here in a way she’d never belonged in Santa Cruz, or maybe any part of the Brink. She had family here, people who wanted her around, people who wanted to teach her. Maybe this was what her mother had wanted for her. She had, after all, left that picture of her dad for her.

  Thankfully, Devon belonged in the Realm as much as she did. His regional pack had a castle here, for goodness’ sake. It wouldn’t be so out of the question for him to stay here. For all of them to stay, even. The shifters were magical, these people were magical—if she could learn to fit in, she was certain Devon and the others could do the same. Devon could already read the subtle nuances of their unspoken language, and respond in kind. He was already nearly as good as this place’s absolute best fighters, something Halvor had grudgingly acknowledged earlier when he’d put Devon on the short list of people Charity was permitted to spar with.

  She smiled, and her magic flowered, filling the room with perfect harmony.

  “Nice work, Arcana,” Kairi called in through the window. “You handled that surge all on your own. You’re starting to find your balance. Good work. You learn abnormally quickly, as the Second has noticed.”

  “You don’t have much privacy, though,” Andy murmured.

  “It’s just because of my magic,” Charity replied, stupidly not having checked if the window was closed. Oops.

  She took in a deep breath. She really did need to try a little harder. So what if all these strangers wanted to hug? They were caring, friendly people who were happy she was around—she should celebrate that.

  “Anyway,” she said as another knock sounded on the door. Familiar voices reverberated through the wood. “Com
e in!”

  Her father pushed the door open with a pleased smile. “Look who I found,” he said, stepping aside to make room for Devon. “The man who has the whole village talking.”

  Andy hopped up and offered a bow. “Second,” he said.

  “Fantastic, another of the pack. I saw you fighting today too.” The Second—her dad—stopped beside the chair in the corner and waited, facing her.

  “Yes, of course.” She motioned to it.

  Devon didn’t wait to be asked, thankfully. He sat down beside her on the couch. Andy reclaimed his seat.

  “Hi,” she said, threading her fingers between Devon’s.

  “Hey.” He kissed her on the forehead.

  “I must confess, it is exciting to see the Shifter Pack in action,” her father said. These people had a way of emphasizing all things shifter. It was an unexpectedly nice gesture. “There is so much…” He fisted his hand and gritted his teeth. “And that lion! Or the… What is the white creature with the horrible face and long arms?”

  “A yeti,” Charity said with a smile.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” It was clear he had no clue what a yeti was. “Their roars are fantastically rejuvenating. Every time I hear them, I want to grab my sword and head to the battlefield. I have never met the shifter race before this, but I was able to pry information out of a reminiscent elder regarding the glory of battling with them. Our peoples were entwined for a large part of our history. I see why.”

  “Have you ever been in a battle?” Charity asked. “Like…with an enemy?”

  The Second squinted a little, and she knew she’d said something wrong. “Thankfully, it is peacetime,” he said. “There are no enemies to be had.”

  Charity tried to keep from frowning and tilting her head. Tried, and failed.

  Peacetime? Some of them had recently battled demons. They were keeping a wary eye on the elves hanging around the edges of their land. It was anything but peaceful out there. He wasn’t a stupid man. Even if these disturbances were new, they were there. For him to sweep them under the carpet made her wonder if they’d always swept issues under the carpet. And if so, why? What were they hiding from?