Crown of Fire (The Forbidden Fae Book 1)

by Linsey Hall

  Except this.

  Thousands of tons of water was too much. The whirlpool began to pick up speed. Not as fast as before—I’d already be dead if that were the case—but fast enough to drag me off course.

  Waves splashed, sending water into my nose and mouth. I sputtered, kicking harder.

  Panic fluttered in my chest. If Iain lost control…

  Iain’s curse barely reached me, but I heard it right before his strong grip closed around my arm. “Climb on my back!”

  I hated the idea as soon as I heard it, but drowning was way worse. I scrambled onto his back, clinging to his neck. My skin touched his, and he shuddered, unable to help himself even in this icy water.

  Then he began to swim. His strong arms cut through the water and pulled us forward. He was so fast that the current dragged at my hair. His muscles surged beneath me, immensely powerful.

  In moments, we were to the other side. He shoved me up onto the stone ledge and climbed up next to me, crouching over my sprawled form.

  Worry glinted in his blue eyes. “Are you all right?”

  Coughing on water, I glared at him. “You’d hate to lose me before you can sacrifice me, huh?”

  His gaze darkened. “It seems you’re fine.”

  I stood, my muscles wobbling like jello. Nothing like the thought of a watery grave to make a girl jittery.

  As I shook the excess water off me, Iain stood. I called upon a huge ball of flame, trying to make the heat low enough not to burn us. I stood in front of it, letting it dry my clothes. Iain joined me, and in minutes, we were dry.

  I considered thanking him for saving me—normally I would—but discarded the idea. It was all to service his end goal.

  I extinguished the flame. “Let’s go.”

  We set off down the tunnel, covering ground quickly. Too quickly.

  We’d reach the end soon, and this was the best place to attack. Far from the surface where it would be easiest for him to fly away. I just needed to take him by surprise.

  The tunnel widened slightly, forming a cavern about twenty feet by twenty feet with a low ceiling.

  This was it.

  I shoved away the guilt that roiled inside me and lagged behind a bit as I called upon my flame. He made it a few feet ahead of me before turning around, one brow arched.

  By then, I was ready. I hurled a massive blast of fire at him. It slammed into his chest, driving him backward. He didn’t even lose his footing.

  Instead, he seemed to glow with strength as he growled, “What the hell?”

  Shit.

  My flame still didn’t work well against him. It hadn’t been a fluke back in the alley in Magic’s Bend as I’d hoped. No doubt his ice neutralized it. I drew a small throwing ax from the ether. It was my new favorite weapon. I hurled it at him, aiming for his chest—a bigger and more reliable target.

  He darted out of the way, moving so fast I could barely follow the movement.

  Damn, he was as quick as I was. I drew two more small axes, throwing them at him in quick succession. The first he dodged, but the second sliced his shoulder. The wound looked deep, but not deep enough to slow him.

  Guilt pierced me again, but I kept going. I had to save my brother. My people.

  He growled and drew a sword from the ether.

  “Can’t kill me here.” I drew a sword from the ether.

  “I can wound you.”

  I darted for him, raising my sword high. Instead of bringing it down on his arm like he probably expected, I feinted left, then swung the blade right.

  He brought his own sword up just in time, blocking my blade. He thrust his upward, dislodging my blade and pushing me back. I stumbled but righted myself quickly, and spun to hit him from the side.

  I nearly landed the blow, but he was quick, blocking me before my sword could land. I yanked my blade away and dodged his next strike, then kicked out and slammed my boot into his stomach.

  He skidded back a few feet but didn’t lose his footing.

  The bastard is too strong.

  He charged, sweeping out with a heavy blow. I raised my blade and blocked, but the force of his strike made my arms shake.

  His blue eyes met mine, glowing with anger and…

  Admiration?

  It was hard to say.

  He yanked his sword back and swung at me. I ducked and sliced out with my own sword, my heart racing.

  He blocked it with his own, pulling a tricky maneuver that flipped my sword out of my hands.

  My stomach pitched, but I was quick. I called upon a blast of flame and sent it toward his sword. The fireball flew with such force that it slammed into the weapon and tore it out of his hands.

  I lunged for him and landed a hard punch to his jaw. I followed it with a kick to his midsection, but he was too quick. He grabbed my foot and yanked me off balance.

  I twisted in midair, catching myself with my hands in a half handstand. I kicked out with my free foot and nailed him in the chest, driving him back until his hold on my ankle broke.

  I landed hard on my front then flipped over. He was too quick, lunging on top of me and caging me in with his arms. I tried to get my legs up to kick him off me, but he pressed hard against my center, trapping me.

  He was huge on top of me, somehow icy cold and burning hot at the same time. Tension coiled through me at the fierce look on his face. Bright eyes and full lips, heaving breath.

  If I wasn’t mistaken, he liked fighting me.

  I thrust my fist toward his throat, landing a blow that made him cough. My second strike hit his shoulder, driving him off me slightly—just enough that I could grip his hips with my thighs and flip him over.

  I straddled him, raising my fist to plow a second punch into his too-handsome face. Adrenaline raced through me—the thrill of the fight, the thrill of having him between my thighs. I was literally fighting for my life, yet I couldn’t completely forget who he was to me.

  My fated mate.

  My brain might hate it, but my body didn’t.

  And killing him might kill me in the end. We didn't care for each other yet, but I’d never heard of someone killing their fated mate and surviving the aftermath.

  His strong hands came up to grip my hips, and a shudder ran through me. I forced it away and slammed my fist down. He darted his head to the side and pushed up with his feet at the same time, surging his hips upward, pressing hard against me. He flipped us over, and my fist hit midair instead of the rock.

  I should be thankful for the small mercy, but he was looming over me again, his gaze hot on mine as his weight pressed me into the stone.

  Quickly, he snagged both my wrists and stretched them over my head, one big hand pinning them to the stone. His skin burned hotly against mine, that strange trick of cold/hot that made my head spin.

  His other hand reached up to grip my neck, but he didn’t squeeze. Instead, his hand tightened just slightly as he shuddered against me.

  Heat rushed through me, mirroring the desire I saw in his eyes. He was so close that his fresh ocean scent surrounded me, making my head spin. The world closed in around us until all I could see were his eyes and lips.

  A low rumble sounded in his throat as his lips lowered to mine.

  Yes.

  I couldn’t help the wayward thought.

  I crushed my lips against his, wrapping my legs around his waist and squeezing him against me. His lips plundered mine, his tongue stealing in for a taste.

  I surrendered to him, a helpless moan rising in my throat as he kissed me like his life depended on it. As if it were the last kiss he’d ever have.

  I moved against him, desperate to have more of him. Every rational thought in my mind flew away as his hand went from my throat to my waist, then slipped below my shirt to grip me firmly.

  My lips were ravenous on his, desperate for more of his taste. He tasted divine, and his lips were hot and skilled. My mind spun as pleasure surged through me.

  “Caera.” He rasped my name, d
ragging his mouth from mine and trailing kisses down my neck.

  I tilted my head to give him better access and arched against him. Pleasure shivered through me. I needed more of this. More.

  Abruptly, he pulled his head back.

  “You want more?” he growled.

  Had I spoken aloud?

  Slowly, my mind began to clear. He still crushed me into the stone, a heavy weight that was both amazing and terrifying. One hand still held both of my wrists above my head, pinning them to the stone. His other hand massaged my waist, but from the flash of anger in his eyes, it appeared he was probably doing that subconsciously.

  As if he couldn’t get enough of me.

  The feeling was mutual.

  And I hated it.

  The fated mate bond was a serious thorn in my side.

  “If you want more, you probably shouldn’t have tried to kill me,” he said.

  “Can you blame me?”

  “You gave me your word.”

  “Not really.” My eyes searched his as the heat began to drain from me. The desire was still there, lurking deep below the surface, but my brain was starting to take over again.

  His lips flattened. “You promised.”

  “I didn’t promise, exactly. I just proposed an option, and you took it.”

  “But you didn’t want to follow it through. Do you even know how to get to the Rowan Seer?”

  “I do.” And I needed to think fast here. As the kiss faded from reality, he was going to get pissed. “But that’s not a sure thing. Killing you would be. My first priority is my family and my Court. I fight for love, like you do.”

  His head jerked to the side slightly, as if he hated to agree with what I was saying but had to.

  “I’m taking you back to my Court.” He surged upward, but I didn’t let go. I couldn’t. Not until he agreed to keep going.

  I kept my legs tight around him as he stood, forcing him to hoist me into the air. He’d released my hands, so I wrapped them around his neck, making sure my bare skin touched his.

  He shuddered, clearly unable to help himself, and glared at me.

  “You can’t blame me.” I spoke quickly, my words tumbling over themselves. Killing him was out, so I needed to make him see my side of things. He could respect that, and respect led to caring. “I had to try. Too many lives depend on me.”

  “Yes. The lives of the people in my Court.”

  “And mine. The prophecy was clear. I have to survive to save them from the fire that will devour them in the future. They need me, and I don’t give up on those who need me.”

  His jaw tightened and something glinted in his eyes. Something almost like respect.

  “But I promise I won’t try it again,” I continued. “I will take you to the Rowan Seer.”

  “How can I trust you?”

  “Blood oath. The serious kind.”

  His brows rose. “I should have tried that before. But you have to be truly willing for it to work. You have to really mean it.”

  “I do now. I swear. I’ll make the oath, and if I don’t complete it, well…”

  “You’re no good to me if you die for not fulfilling the curse.”

  I clung tight to him, my mind racing. This was the weirdest position to be in while negotiating this kind of thing. Definitely a distraction. I forced my mind to focus. “I’ll make the oath so that I have to fulfill it by next week. That way, if I fail, I won’t croak until after your sacrifice deadline on the solstice.”

  His forehead furrowed.

  “I’ll also vow not to attack you again.”

  “And vow to go willingly with me to the sacrifice.”

  “I—can’t.” My heart thundered. “I could try to vow it, but there’s no way I could mean it enough for the vow to actually work. I’m not the sort to walk to my own death.”

  His lips tightened, but the admiration still gleamed in his eyes.

  He liked me.

  Despite the shit I was pulling, he liked me. He understood I had to do what I was doing.

  He was ruthless. He could be cruel—he’d kept my brother in a cage, after all. But he liked me.

  And he didn’t want to kill me if he could help it. I was his fated mate—I could feel it in him like I could feel my own heartbeat. Hell, he might like me because I was pulling no punches. I was his fated mate, not an easy hookup. He’d want me to be tough and strong and brave.

  I was my truest self with him, and he liked it.

  The smooth skin of his neck burned icily beneath my palms, making shivers race up my arms. I began to caress his neck as I leaned close to murmur against his ear. “You don’t want to have to sacrifice me, do you?”

  I squeezed his hips tighter with my thighs, pressing my core against his hardness.

  “Caera.” He shuddered, gripping my waist so his hands touched my bare skin.

  He really didn’t want to do this.

  He wanted me.

  And he wasn't the sort to kill someone he didn’t have to kill. Especially not his fated mate. He’d do it—I was certain he’d do it if he had no other choice. But he wanted another choice.

  “Come on, Iain. Give me a chance to make the vow.” My voice was thick with desire, and I was sure he could hear it. I made sure my breath warmed his ear, then I drew his earlobe into my mouth.

  He shuddered hard against me, the heat too much for him to bear.

  Maybe I should feel a bit guilty for using my body like this—but I didn’t. Not even close.

  Because I liked it.

  He thrust me away from him, breaking my grip on his neck and waist and setting me on the ground.

  Cool air rushed over me, and I staggered backward.

  Iain drew in a deep breath, and the heat in his eyes banked. “Do not touch me.”

  He couldn’t resist it when I did.

  I nodded sharply. “Are you going to give me a chance?”

  His gaze searched mine, his jaw firm. “Make the vow.”

  Gratitude weakened my muscles, and I drew a dagger from the ether. Carefully, I sliced my hand and let the blood drip to the ground. I pushed some of my magic out with it, feeling it spark as it left my veins. “I vow to help you reach the Tree of Wisdom within seven days. And I will not attack you.”

  “Ever.”

  “Ever.” I drew in a deep breath and tilted my arm so more blood dripped to the ground. “Upon my blood, I vow it.”

  The magic in the vow and the blood swirled around, glowing brightly as it zipped toward my heart and shot inside me. I gasped and staggered backward.

  If I didn’t complete the vow, my heart would stop.

  9

  I took a shuddery breath and met Iain’s gaze.

  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a tiny vial, then stepped forward. His voice was gruff when he spoke. “Hold up your arm.”

  I eyed the vial.

  He answered my unasked question. “Healing potion.”

  “Want to make sure I live long enough so you can sacrifice me?” I asked dryly.

  His jaw tightened. “That little wound won’t kill you.”

  He was right.

  He was healing me just so I would be more comfortable.

  Oddly, I felt the tiniest bit guilty. It wasn’t hard to shove it away though. He was planning to sacrifice me if he had to, after all.

  His scent wrapped around me as he stood close and poured the potion over my wound. I had my own healing potions, but I’d let him use up his stash.

  Anyway, he was a king. He had plenty.

  The flesh knit itself back together, and once it was done, he stepped back and poured a bit onto his wounded shoulder.

  He gave me a studying look, his gaze intense. “If we make it out of this, I definitely want to keep you.”

  I swallowed hard. Of course he did. I was his fated mate. If we survived this, he’d never stop trying to make me his. It was just the nature of things. I’d heard the stories of male Fae who tried to live without their mates. They wer
e shells of themselves.

  Females didn’t have it quite so hard, and I was definitely not up for staying in his kingdom, no matter how much I might want him physically. My people still needed me, and he’d try to protect me from anything—including the dangers involved in saving them.

  So yeah, I’d be running for it when this was all over.

  Except I obviously couldn’t tell him that. So I just changed the subject and turned to face the tunnel. “Let’s go. We’re not far from the exit.”

  “Then we’re there?”

  “Not quite. Unfortunately.”

  I started off down the tunnel, and he kept a few steps behind me, no doubt so he could keep an eye on me.

  I glanced back at him. “I took the vow. I’m not going to try to pull a fast one on you.”

  He arched a brow. “I wouldn’t put anything past you.”

  I supposed he was right. I didn’t have a lot of options, but I could run for it and free Connor, then return and take him to the tree. There was a lot of wiggle room in my vow. But for now, I’d stick to it.

  We reached the end of the tunnels about an hour later. The shaft was wide, about ten meters in diameter, and the sun gleamed above, partially hidden behind clouds.

  Iain’s wings flared behind him, and he held out his arms.

  I swallowed hard, glancing upward to see if there were any handholds and footholds in the shaft wall I could use to climb up. Even a broken old ladder would do. If he flew us up, I’d have to touch him, and every time I touched him, our bond deepened. I didn’t want to grow any closer to him than I was already.

  Of course there was nothing.

  “Fine.” Envy burned as I stepped toward him. I wanted my own wings, damn it.

  But I didn’t have them, so I was catching a ride with him. I wrapped my arms around him, noticing the slight shudder when the bare skin of my hand brushed his neck. His strong arms closed around me, hot and cold at the same time, and he swept me into his arms as if I weighed nothing.

  I stole a brief glance up at him, noting the hard jaw and stoic expression.

  “Try not to look so happy about it,” I muttered.

  He cut me a look that was both exasperated and too knowing. Then he launched himself off the ground, powerful wings carrying us upward.