Seelie (The Falcon Grey Files Book 1)

by Sarah Luddington

  When I weighed my sense of pride against the misery I currently suffered, I began to lose my own argument. I felt so weak and vulnerable I found it hard to battle the growing shame of my many failures. With the throne swinging over my tied and straining body, along with Marcus’ fate a lead weight tying me to the old world, I felt the illusion of peace I fought to maintain was being slowly and permanently shredded. I didn’t want to be a prince. I didn’t even want to be a powerful Seelie. I wasn’t certain I could be ‘Little Bird’ any more, but I wanted the right to choose. I wanted a life I could never have, a life of free will, and now I would steal someone else’s free will by force.

  I closed my eyes and tried to relax. The Land Rover remained silent for a long time. I drifted in a haze of pain and misery, gradually moving away from my current surrounding and into the world of memories.

  “Falcon?” Rough knuckles stroked my cheek. “Falcon, wake up.”

  “Marcus,” I murmured with a thick tongue in a dry mouth.

  “You’ve been asleep, love. Time to wake up. Time to feed.”

  “Bethan?” I asked.

  “She and Gifling are safe, they are in a motel room. Or at least Bethan is, I’m not sure Gifling will be staying – apparently the walls are too plain and the floor the wrong shape.” His amusement warmed me and I found the courage to move.

  Everything hurt. I’d never had flu, Seelie didn’t suffer from mortal viruses, but this is what flu must be like. My temperature fluctuated wildly, my bones were fragile, my skin covered in needles pressing into my weakened muscles.

  “I’m sick,” I managed, the world spinning as Marcus helped me out of the truck.

  “You’re weak,” he disagreed. He held me as if I were a day old cub. “Come, Highness, come and feed.”

  I frowned, not really understanding. He helped me walk forward, an octogenarian without a frame for support, and I peered ahead with filmy eyes.

  “Boy,” Marcus barked.

  “What the fuck?” a new voice, deep, husky and rippling through my body. “I’m not fucking a corpse.” His accent made him almost unintelligible.

  “I paid you to give my friend a kiss, that’s all and I paid you very well. If you want to argue with me...” Marcus let the sentence hang. I began to tremble, loss of control a new, unwelcome sensation.

  I forced myself to concentrate on the young man. Tall, darkly handsome and strangely fragile. I turned away, trying to free myself from Marcus’ grasp.

  “No, my Prince, you are taking this prize I have found you whether you like it or not,” Marcus said, holding me easily.

  I whimpered.

  “Do your job,” Marcus ordered harshly.

  The young man, a fine layer of stubble gracing his strong jaw, approached with distain. He flicked his long black hair over his shoulder. “One thousand pounds,” he repeated under his breath.

  His hands took possession of my fragile shoulders. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked suddenly. “I don’t want any diseases.”

  “No diseases,” Marcus said and I heard his hunger. I felt his desire. I knew his love for me and his need to see me whole.

  His desire became mine. I wanted him. I wanted life. I wanted to feel power. I wanted my sister’s head on a platter and to watch dogs feed on her brains. I wanted to rut with my lover like an animal.

  The boy pouted his lips for a kiss. I grabbed his head in suddenly strong fingers, moved him to my preferred position and kissed his full mouth. He squeaked in protest and tried to fight me off, but I forced his mouth open and the moment it did I pulled. While our lips were sealed and his body open to mine, I inhaled. This wouldn’t be easy, he didn’t want to be here or be with me. He thought I was some foul and broken pervert. If I were more like myself, he’d surrender quickly because my glamour would reel him in. I unravelled the tightly controlled core and like a chameleon’s tongue, the power whipped out from me and down the boy’s throat. The power touched the core of the boy and it flashed into life, hot and bright.

  The young man in my embrace relaxed and he groaned. Strong arms dragged me into the strong body and he surrendered. The cord tying us together snapped tight and his life flowed upward toward me and then down, deep down into my soul, feeding me. Whispering, sparking, rushing, flowing, the essence sometimes trickled and sometimes came in a flood, depending on which barriers in his soul collapsed. The final surrender came and I felt his heart love me and I could take it all.

  The energy of his world filled me and I rejoiced.

  “Falcon, that’s enough.” Marcus’ hands were firm on my shoulders. I wasn’t going to surrender my new toy. I clung to him and his life continued to empty into my body.

  “Enough, Little Bird,” snapped that darkest of voices. The one which controlled a part of me I couldn’t ever call my own.

  My hold on the young man slackened and his body left my arms. I felt bereft. He loved me and I could command his every thought, waking and sleeping. He now belonged to the Seelie Court, my court.

  I took a deep breath, trying to control the flood of confusing desires tearing into my mind and body. The universe swayed unnervingly.

  “Marcus, help me,” I whispered. From starvation to glutton.

  “I am here, Highness,” he said quietly and I felt his arms encircle my back. “Let us move away.”

  “The boy?” I asked.

  “He is safe, he will recover,” Marcus said and then chuckled. “Though I fear he will be forever haunted by your majesty.”

  I snorted in derision. “You are leading me astray.”

  “Haven’t I always?”

  I finally managed to stand straight and take in our surroundings. We were in a car park, dawn still some way off because of the winter but the moon bright and showing me mountains behind the houses.

  “Fort William?” I asked.

  “It seemed the best place to find a donor,” Marcus replied. His voice sounded odd and I turned to look at him. There were tears stood proud in his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I just keep forgetting how beautiful you are,” he confessed quietly.

  The words were so tender and full of awe at this mystery it made me smile. I closed the distance between us and drew him slowly into my arms. “Feed from me, Dominus,” I said.

  “Sometimes I wonder who is really the slave and to what,” he said, his hands slowly pulling me toward him as if denied their own will power.

  I didn’t reply – it was an unanswerable conundrum we’d both been exploring for years. When his lips touched mine Seelie life flared, hot and bright, inside me. The power of the Crown Prince of Elfhame poured into Marcus. He could not feed from mortals; as a slave, dark magic forced him to rely on his masters for power in this world. It stopped our slaves from running to the mortal world to escape.

  We kissed, I pushed him and he stumbled back into something solid. We devoured, hot and wet, exploring with tongues used as weapons. We kissed and my hands pulled at his clothes and his fingers sought my skin.

  One moment perfect union with passionate intent, the next...

  “No!” he cried out, pushing me way.

  I stumbled, the Breath of Life still pouring out of me and into him. I snapped my mouth shut. The power recoiled and stung, making me flinch.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, breathless and still disorientated by the backlash.

  He turned away from me, wiping his mouth as if to clean himself of my kiss. “I don’t need the Breath of Life. That’s not why I helped you find the boy,” he said.

  “I gave it because I wanted to share what I have and who I am with you,” I said, knowing my frustration must be very clear.

  He didn’t say anything, just climbed into the Land Rover and started the engine. I stared at him but his eyes faced forward and he refused to look in my direction. I was utterly mystified. Why couldn’t I love him and he just accept it? Why was everything I did for him proving so fucking complicated and making him so unhappy?
I shook my head to rid myself of a little of the frustration and bent to help the young man off the ground.

  He now felt so light. A dark whispering voice in the back of my head asked why I deprived myself of such power all the time. The boy came around, his dark eyes blinking heavily and he smiled up at me, his hand reaching for my cheek.

  “Your will,” he whispered.

  I almost dropped him in shock. He shouldn’t be under the spell of the Seelie this fast. He should be wondering what we’d done – not really understanding his weakness or remembering anything, instead he’d become mine.

  My father could do this to mortals – I’d seen it but I wasn’t this powerful. I didn’t create mortal slaves this fast. What was happening to me? And what was happening to Marcus?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Silence filled the Land Rover. Marcus drove quickly and efficiently. We stopped outside a motel and left the truck in the car park. I followed Marcus to the single storey building. He walked along the veranda and I watched blobs of snow falling off his clothes. We stopped, he knocked and I saw Bethan peek through the triple glazed window, moving the curtain a tiny amount.

  The locks and chains were released, the door opened and we stepped into the warm. “Everything alright?” Bethan asked. She eyed me as though I’d become an alien, which I guessed was true.

  “Everything is fine,” I said.

  Her eyes raked me and narrowed. “You look different. Brighter, stronger – it’s weird.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. She looked tired. Dark circles were under her eyes, she moved stiffly, and her long hair was wet. “You need to sleep,” I said.

  She nodded. “Gifling’s around somewhere but she doesn’t like the room, so I lost track of her at some point. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine, Bethan. She’s not going to be easy to find if she vanishes.” The room was safely generic, the art depicting wild glens in soft sunlight. There were two double beds, covered in grey blankets. A bathroom door stood slightly ajar and steam oozed out of it.

  “We all need to grab some sleep,” I said. Bethan nodded and instantly began pulling off her boots and clothes, stripping down to t-shirt and pants. She climbed into the bed furthest from the door and lay down, sighing heavily.

  “You two can share the other one,” she muttered.

  I smiled, switched on the bedside light and switched off the main one, the room descending into gloom. “I’ll keep guard,” Marcus said and moved toward the door.

  “You don’t have to, it’ll be dawn soon, we are safe for tonight,” I said.

  He finally looked at me. His eyes were a deep green in the dark light, his expression carefully blank. “It’s fine. I don’t mind protecting us if it means you have a few hours sleep.”

  “It’s not sleep I need, Marcus.”

  “It’s all you are going to get,” he snapped.

  I didn’t react to his anger, merely trailed my fingers down his arm. “You need rest,” I said. “All I’m asking for is to be allowed to hold you while you sleep. There is nothing else I want.”

  My gentle voice punched holes in his armour more quickly than any argument. His face softened and the grief wriggled out, silently begging for help. I moved toward him and slowly pushed his thick jacket off his shoulders. He didn’t move beyond closing his eyes. A fine tremble began throughout his body.

  I took his coat and lay it carefully over the only chair in the room. Next I began to lift his jumper, his arms rose slowly and I removed it, his hair sliding through the neck and making soft pattering noises when it settled against his back once more. I began unbuttoning his thick shirt.

  “I am on fire for you,” he whispered, choking on the words. I glanced up at his face, we were so close our breath mingled. “But I can’t...”

  “You don’t have to, love. Just come to bed and let me hold you. Allow me to care for you. Surrender to me, Marcus. Just for tonight, surrender to me.” Our lips were touching as I spoke and a soft groan escaped him. We kissed, gently and for a long time.

  I held him with such tenderness, a caress rather than anything strongly tactile. His lips moved from mine and he buried his face in my neck. I laced my fingers through his thick hair and held him while he continued to tremble. “They hurt me, Falcon. They hurt me so much in so many ways. Every time I look at you I see them – I see Leo – laughing and stealing our love.”

  I kissed his hair, his ear, his cheek. “That will change, my love. When you can trust they cannot hurt you, it will begin to fade.”

  “There are times I hate you so much.” His fingers flexed as he spoke and dug into my ribs.

  “I cannot blame you for that,” I said. “Now, come to bed and let me hold you.”

  He nodded and finally pulled away from my embrace. He sat on the bed and I wordlessly knelt to unlace his boots. The old ritual felt odd tonight, or morning; it felt distant. It felt as if I were a stranger to myself, dislocated from my past and my present with Marcus – did that mean there would be no future?

  Free of his boots, Marcus stood, turned his back and took his combat trousers off. He climbed into bed and sank under the blankets. I stripped quickly and climbed in and lay on my side. Marcus rolled onto his side, giving me his back. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move except to flinch when I slid my hand over his waist. I slowly curled around his back, and tried to ignore my erection, closing my eyes.

  It took a long time before Marcus’ breathing evened out, the sun pressing against the curtains before I slept.

  I woke to hear small cries and twitches coming from my companion. I realised I’d only been sleeping lightly, more than half of me aware of my surroundings and Marcus’ needs.

  “Shh,” I said and stroked his hair. The sounds grew worse and the twitching stronger. “Marcus, wake up.” I shook his shoulder. He whimpered and curled into a ball. “Come on, sweetheart, wake up.”

  His elbow snapped back into my chest and air rushed out of me. He straightened and rolled in one movement, landing on top of me while I struggled to breathe. I felt his hands find my throat and squeeze.

  “Marcus, wake up,” I croaked, trying to push him off my chest. His eyes were closed and his face covered in sweat. “Please...”

  I resorted to actually fighting him. My knees rose between his to give my hips power and my hands came up between his arms and smacked hard into his elbow joints. He collapsed forward over my chest and I flicked my hips to force him off me completely.

  “Falcon!” he cried out.

  I grabbed hold of him before he fell out of bed. His eyes were opened and shocked. “Marcus?”

  “What have I done?” He tried to escape me but couldn’t organise his body to free himself of me.

  I pulled him close and he murmured distress, still fighting me. I ignored him and wrapped my arms around his body. I began to kiss his hair and face, telling him I’d not been hurt and he was safe. He relaxed under my care and I felt him exploring, his hands on my back and moving down. His lips brushed against my skin and sent tingles through me, pushing me from carer to lover. He nipped my shoulder and his thigh slid between my legs, pressing against my hard cock and balls. We were kissing, strong and wet, his teeth biting my lip and making me groan. I explored his strong hips and backside, the small scars of my sister’s attentions making me more determined to give Marcus everything he needed.

  There was one thing missing from this frantic exploration and when I felt Marcus explore his own body to check – the passion flipped to rage. A cry of misery exploded from him and he pushed against me but I’d locked him in my arms and refused to let go.

  “Fal!” he cried out.

  “Quiet, Marcus. Stop. Don’t run,” I begged.

  He stilled in my arms and calmed quickly. “Help me,” he said quietly. “Hurt me.”

  Hurt him? How could I hurt him? I was his submissive. I didn’t know how to hurt him. “Marcus, I don’t know how...”

  He drew out of my embrace slightly and I finally looked into his
green eyes. He looked so sad but a small smile wobbled on his lips. “We need to get up,” he said. “We need to protect Bethan. Where is she?”

  Bethan? Shit, I had no idea. “Don’t know but she’ll be fine, it’s daylight. What was the dream?” I asked him, wanting to focus on us for the moment.

  “I’m not important, Falcon. She is,” he said rolling away from me.

  “You are important to me,” I said and lunged after him. Marcus pulled out of my grasp and picked up his trousers, climbing into them quickly.

  “It’s over, Falcon. Let it go,” he said and walked into the bathroom. One door closed but another opened and Bethan walked in with coffee and food.

  “Good you’re awake,” she said. “And happy?” she asked, looking at the mess of sheets I sat in and my slowly fading erection. I pulled the sheet over me, pointlessly, and grunted.

  “Not exactly happy,” I said.

  We heard the shower and she sat on her bed handing me a coffee. “What’s wrong?”

  Suddenly I was close to tears. “I don’t know. I can’t help him.”

  “You are both moving too fast. He needs care, not this constant attempt to repair your relationship and put it back to the way it was before. You aren’t the same people. You aren’t his ‘Little Bird’ any more, Falcon,” she said, seeing into the heart of problem far more quickly than I’d managed.

  “I haven’t changed,” I protested, hearing my lie.

  “I don’t know if you have or not but he has, clearly, and until he knows who he is, there’s nothing healthy he can do for you.” She reached for my hand and squeezed. “I think you might have to let him go after we save him. He needs time to be his own man.”