Destined For The Fae King (Mated to The Fae King Book 2)

by Bailey Dark

  “How will we get there?” I ask, following him down the stark halls.

  We pass a few Bloodbane witches in their red cloaks. They bow to Sadal, but their eyes are on me. I glare at them as we pass. Sadal leads me into a grand room in the center of the keep, with no windows. Maaz is there, in the center. Her pale blonde hair is coiled into a braid atop her head. She wears a white gown, looking for all the world like a bride despite the red cloak on her shoulders.

  She smiles at Sadal, dipping her chin. Her pale blue eyes drift towards me and her smile becomes a scowl. She draws up her hood. “What is she doing here?”

  “She’ll accompany us to the frontlines.” Sadal drops a kiss to Maaz’s cheek and I grimace.

  “Why?” Maaz asks coldly.

  Sadal’s black eyes narrow, his lips pressed thin. A chill lances through my chest. He doesn’t speak, but his long fingers curl around Maaz’s thin shoulder. Her eyes go wide and her face pales. I smirk, watching her curl in on herself in Sadal’s intimidating presence.

  “Go,” he murmurs. “Take your witches and leave. We’ll follow.”

  Maaz nods jerkily and rushes from the room. At the door, she casts a final glance over her shoulder. Her eyes rest on me and I stare morosely at her. The door slams shut, barely missing catching on her red cloak. I feel Sadal behind me, his body emanates power.

  “I can’t ride a deadwood broom,” I say.

  “We aren’t taking a broom.” Sadal’s hand sidles over my back and I resist wrenching away from him.

  I picture Altair in my mind. I imagine his hazel eyes, his arrogant smirk. When Sadal touches me, I think of Altair. It’s the only thing that can stop the panic and disgust that wells inside me when Sadal touches me.

  Suddenly, Sadal loops a strong arm around my waist and pulls me into his chest. I yelp, trying to pull away but he holds me fast. Sadal’s face is peaceful, as if unbothered by my struggle. He smiles broadly down at me, too wide for his face.

  “Lanuae praesens,” Sadal murmurs.

  Suddenly, my vision goes black and the ground beneath my feet tips away from me. I scream breathlessly as Sadal’s grip tightens around me. Air whooshes around me, loud in my ears. An instant later, bright white light blinds me, and I collapse to the earth. Sweat drips down my forehead and my arms shake.

  Panting, I stare down at the rocky, gray earth beneath me. Puffs of dust prick at my eyes as I breathe. As my eyes adjust, I can make out distant green fields below the gray slopes of the mountain. I lift myself to my knees and stare out at my surroundings.

  Sadal has brought me to the slopes of the mountains near Alnembra’s border. I can’t see the palace or the sea in the distance, which sets my heart at ease. I twist and stare at Sadal. The wind whips his black jacket behind him as he smiles down at me. A chill runs down my spine. He stretches out his hand just as I hear a massive bellow bounce off of the mountains. The demons.

  I scramble to my feet, ignoring his hand, and rush to the edge of the steep slope. My stomach drops as I take in the sight. Below, stretching from the barren slopes of the mountain to the first grove of trees in Alnembra, is a massive, black horde. The shadows writhe and twist as the demons jostle in their ranks. There are no flags to signify which units are camped where, no tents for the demons to sleep in. They’re beasts; foul and vicious.

  My breath is lodged in my throat as I listen to their screams. I hadn’t noticed so many of the demons marching away from the keep since my capture. Here, there are tens of thousands. Sadal joins me, his shoulders straight and proud.

  “Magnificent, isn’t it?” He muses. “Imagine the carnage when we strike Altair’s forces.”

  And I do.

  I imagine red blood soaking the earth, spilling into the rivers and streams. I imagine Fae bodies piling up as the demons scramble over them to kill more. I imagine Altair, falling in battle, overwhelmed by monsters.

  My hands tremble and I stuff them into the folds of my skirt to hide it from Sadal. He turns away, drawing me from the sight of his destructive forces. On another plateau, I see an assembly of tents, likely the Bloodbane forces. Above it, I see red cloaks swirling in the sky.

  “Come, love,” Sadal says, taking my hand. “You must be tired; we can rest in our tent.”

  My eyes widen at his words and I stare towards the grand tent covered in luxurious fabrics in the center of camp. Our tent. My stomach twists and I swallow the bile rising in my throat. I glance over my shoulder, towards Alnembra. I imagine I see Altair’s beastly form soaring through the skies, but I know it’s only a cloud.

  I slip into the darkness of the tent, ice in my veins.

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  About the Author

  Bailey Dark is obsessesed with all things dark, hot, and supernatural. From Fae to Aliens, her heroes are thoroughly alpha and pure raw masculinity. When she’s not writing (which is hardly ever) she’s busy watching every movie in the marvel universe, or binging supernatural on her couch. So come along, and enter her dark world. . . .

  https://www.baileydarkromance.com/

  Also by Bailey Dark

  The Beast King’s Bride - Warlords of Farian Book 1

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  https://www.baileydarkromance.com/

  FREE Preview - The Beast King’s Bride

  Chapter One

  Daphne

  “Mm-hmm,” Vania said through a mouthful of avocado toast, crumbs tumbling to the tabletop. I rolled my eyes at my best friend. “That would turn me on, too.”

  “Oh, gawd, that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t saying seeing him beat the shit out of Rhone would rev me up. I just meant—”

  “Oh, you just meant you would melt in his arms and do anything he wanted after he bashed your boss’s face in. And, I mean, anything, Daphne…” Vania grinned and flicked a baby carrot at me. I caught it deftly and popped it in my mouth. I slowly grinned as a slight breeze from the courtyard garden ruffled my blonde hair. My best friend’s brown curls were a bit messy from the debauchery of the night before…she had made that walk of shame all the way to work on time.

  “All right, maybe I would be a little more willing to explore, if he was, you know, detail-oriented…” We giggled. I sighed. “It’s just been so hard. Rhone is incredibly difficult. I had to stay at work late every day the last two weeks, and I am still running behind on the deadline for the Flores account.”

  “Rhone is such an asshole. Why can’t you just tell him off?”

  “Are you kidding me? I know you have never seen him, but there’s just something…scary…about him…” Rhone was a towering figure in my office doorway far too often. He was over six feet tall, with the broad shoulders of a swimmer or climber, clothed only in high-end designer suits. His facial hair was finely groomed, his black hair slicked in a wave around his piercing black eyes in a starkly pale face. I shivered, imagining how he could skewer me with just a look. “He takes private martial arts classes, you know.”

  Vania sat up straight, setting her tea down hard. “Do you think he would ever actually harm you?”

  “Of course not!” My protest was without hesitation, but a tiny thread of doubt trilled through my body. No…no, of course not. He will never actually hurt another person. He just enjoys the intimidating aura he has. Over his employees, over his clients, even over the bike messengers. We are all just caught up in his Rhone-sphere.

  “Ok.” Vania took another bite of her lunch. “So, tell me more about this super-hot, super-suave boyfriend that will come to your rescue and then rev your motor, gladiator-style. If he doesn’t show up soon, you can always ask Sean to confront Rhone for you.”

  I rolled my eyes again. “Sean is a mess.”

  “I know you’re afraid to lose this job, since you’re paying for your brother’s loans, but really, Daphne. This job is killing you. Does Sean make things easy on you ever?”

  “He never has.” My stepbrother had always been a little too
impetuous for life to treat him fairly. He was always chasing his next inspiration, be it a girl, business, bike, college, or real estate. “I love him, regardless. I really think this next brilliant idea of his will take off—”

  “Just make sure it isn’t your money on the line, this time.” Vania’s green eyes were serious.

  I consented with a nod. “I just think—” My cell phone rang. I picked it up, groaned, and looked up at the clear midday sky, taking a deep breath. “Hello, Rhone, how can I—?”

  “Get your ass back to work. You weren’t supposed to take lunch today. I need that Flores report.”

  “I am almost done, Rhone. I will be back at the office in ten minutes.”

  “I know you are in the gardens with that twat friend of yours, Vania. Be in my office in three minutes.” Click.

  I slumped forward, the phone in my lap as I took three deep breaths. I focused on a blooming rose bush beside the table, pretending I could inhale its bloom and profit from the beauty. These gardens were a small sanctuary for me and Vania. “I have to go back to work.” I was truly touched by the look of concern and sad encouragement on my best friend’s face. I managed a weak smile back to her.

  “You have to get a new job.”

  “I can’t, Vania. He pays me too well. I will likely work late tonight, so I won’t be able to go on a run with you tomorrow morning.”

  “I don’t mind you canceling our runs, but you need to make sure you keep taking care of yourself. Running is good for you.” Vania placed her hand on mine. “I just want you to be happy.”

  “I know…I will give you a call tonight. Keep trying to find that Prince Charming for me, all right? Make sure he has blue eyes, a lust for adventure, and a mean right hook.” I blew Vania a little kiss, tossed the rest of my lunch into the trash bin, adjusted my pinstripe pencil skirt, and headed back to work.

  Chapter Two

  Daphne

  I flipped the pages, the swift turning making an eerie flutter on the glass walls of my office in the lone desktop light. Where was that itemized document? I swore I had made the intern alphabetize this file. I looked toward another box in the corner and blinked against the darkness. I glanced at the clock. 11 p.m. My desk light was the only one still illuminated on the whole floor. I had stayed at work until 9, but right as I was lying down for much-needed sleep at home, the Flores file information running through my mind, I realized that the entire case hinged on that itemized budget. I hadn’t remembered seeing it in the final prepared file. I had dutifully gotten out of bed and driven back to work. If that piece of information was as vital as I thought it might be, Rhone would be furious the next morning that it had been left out.

  I wasn’t supposed to be at the office this late. I had input Rhone’s own code to get onto the private elevator. I had seen him type his code in once and memorized it, not thinking I would ever have the guts to use it.

  “Where the hell is it?”

  I bent over to pull another box from the floor to my desk when a light flared on in Rhone’s office. I heard muffled voices and footsteps. My heart catapulted into my throat. I clicked off the desk lamp and crouched to the floor.

  “…know how important she is.” I didn’t recognize the voice speaking. I peered around my desk and saw Rhone and another man walking down the hallway.

  “Yes, I know. Damn Daphne. She probably didn’t even…” The voices muffled again as they moved into Rhone’s office.

  What? Are they talking about me?

  I stayed low, pulse beating rapidly in my ears, fingers clammy as I pulled open my office door. I crept down the hallway to one of the offices that looked right into Rhone’s. I stood up and hid behind a file cabinet. The glass walls were a beautiful accent to their high-powered office, but they were single pane. Now that I was closer, I could hear what they were saying.

  “So, we just wait?”

  “Yes. He should be here any moment.”

  The other man was tall, but much skinnier than Rhone. He had on a long, leather jacket and gloves. He lounged back against Rhone’s desk as Rhone rustled some papers on his desk. They had turned on one of the lamps, but the lighting wasn’t enough for me to get a good look at the other man’s face under his fedora.

  Rhone walked out from behind his desk and turned so I could see his other side. I stilled a gasp. He was wearing a sword! The scabbard was long and curved. The handle was ornate, curling with waves and crested with jewels.

  A radiant light shimmered in the middle of Rhone’s office. The sharp blues and greens were stunning. It burned brighter. I squinted away from it as it grew larger, blinding and brilliant. Then it flashed and illuminated the whole office space. I ducked behind the file cabinet again. The light vanished.

  “Welcome, Fyland,” Rhone said. I peeked back out, mouth wide open, eyes wide. What the hell? Where did he come from? Like magic? Or tech that I don’t know about?

  The man that had appeared was small, crouched over, clutching his stomach.

  “Your majesty. You have to help me.” His voice was strained. “They will be following me.”

  “What are you talking about?” The man in the long coat straightened up from the desk quickly, pulling two daggers out, one in each hand. “You mean, you failed the mission, and you have led them here?”

  Rhone held up his hand, and the man backed away, but his daggers sparkled in the light of the office lamp.

  “Fyland, you have failed me.”

  As I watched, heart pounding, my breath coming in rapid gasps I tried to quell, mouth still open, Rhone slid the sword from his scabbard. The metal of the sword was dark, but glowed green. It seemed to hiss as it left the sheath. The jewels along its hilt sparkled down the blade a few inches. I hadn’t seen many swords in my life, but there was clearly something unique about this one. Its blade curved up, slightly scimitar-like, but seemed much longer than the scabbard had shown it would be.

  Rhone held the blade out in the air in front of him, twisting it around, seeming to admire the sheen and green glow.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Rhone asked.

  “I beg you for forgiveness, m’Lord. I will take any demotion you state. I will do any job you deem necessary as I gain back your trust.” The man doubled over, clutching his stomach. I couldn’t see well enough, but it seemed like he was dripping something onto the floor. Is that blood? Did someone just teleport into my boss’s office and is now dripping blood onto the floor?

  I rubbed my eyes and leaned forward a little more. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Who is following you?”

  “Please, m’Lord.” Fyland dropped to one knee. His head sank to his chest, and I thought he might have passed out, but then he moaned. “I will tell you everything. Just, please, heal me first.”

  “I’ll take away all your pain.” Rhone held the sword with both hands. His eyes were sunken black in the lamp’s dim glow. He brought the sword down swiftly, slicing through Fyland’s neck, severing his head from his body. Fyland collapsed to the ground, blood gurgling from his severed throat artery and gushing onto Rhone’s office carpet.

  I gripped the file cabinet as hard as I could. The world blurred in front of me. I dropped to my hands and knees. I vaguely heard Rhone giving the other man commands, and I saw them moving about, but I slid closer to the ground, crawled under the office’s desk, kept my hand clasped to my mouth to prevent myself from crying out and choked back the tears of panic that were pricking my throat.

  What the Hell just happened? What do I do? What do I do?

  Get out. Get out and run.

  I looked over at the other office and took a deep breath. I steadied myself as I stood. I pulled open the door with shaking fingers, then crept, low to the floor, toward the elevators. I would need to walk by Rhone’s office…My head was faint, my stomach roiling. I was careful to stick to the shadowed side of the hallway.

  I tiptoed past them, hardly daring to look at them, hardly daring to look away. Then I
dashed for the elevator and pressed the button.

  It dinged immediately.

  Idiot!

  I spun around. Rhone and the other man were staring at me. I hid my face, pressed the elevator button for 30 floors above them, then flung open the door to the stairs and raced down.

  Yelling rang out behind me as the stair door closed, but I was fleeing down the eight flights, three steps at a time, gripping hard to the railing when I needed it, then racing out of the stairwell through the lobby.

  They heard me. They saw me. I was dressed in pajamas and my hair was in a messy bun. There was no way Rhone would recognize me…But…there was no way I could keep this job, now.

  I breathed in deeply, fighting away tears: I could never work for a murderer.

  I turned the corner beside the check-in desk, looking back behind me toward the stairs as yelling grew closer. Still running, I slammed into another person and swung my head around to look at who had stopped my escape and was now holding tight to my arms. My head was boiling over with panic and my heart was beating furiously. I struggled to get loose from him.

  “Let me go!”

  I tried to jerk away from his grip, but he didn’t even move with my struggle. His strength was astounding. Was he a friend of Rhone’s? Or was he someone who would help me?

  “Calm yourself, woman,” he growled.

  I swooned at the sound of his voice, deep, guttural, resounding with power, as though he was accustomed to being obeyed.

  Part of me wanted to rebel and I pushed off his firm chest and tried to slip away. Another part of me wanted to obey and I paused in my frantic beating against his body…

  Who was he?

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