King of the Mountains

by Elizabeth Frost

  He scanned something plastic that reeked of poison and handed it to Morgan.

  She took it with a sweet smile. It looked fake on her face, and he wanted to wipe the expression off her lips.

  Frustration grew as she ushered him into a metal box that moved on its own. At least this he understood. Magic was far more familiar than all the technology staining this place.

  Pressing her back against the wall, she heaved a lengthy sigh. “There we go. That’s over and done with.”

  Over and done with? He wasn’t nearly over and done with whatever he’d seen outside. The human realm needed to be cleansed.

  She must have seen the thought play across his expression. As the metal box beeped, and a door opened to reveal a room beyond, she reached for his hand and held it against her heart. “Liam. Whatever you saw out there, I can explain it all to you. I can prove they’re trying to stop whatever effects you might have felt on the planet. Just give me time.”

  He didn’t have time. The world didn’t have time. It was screaming, and he couldn’t help but listen to its call.

  Still, he let her guide him from the metal box into the cool room beyond.

  Most of the walls were glass. A lower level appeared to be a seating area with white couches and chairs very low to the ground. A metal fireplace crackled, providing warmth to an otherwise sterile environment. The kitchen, although he thought such a place was only for servants, consisted of black cabinets and white countertops.

  Perhaps the wall of windows might have been appreciated by the humans. He could see all the glistening surfaces of every tall building ruining the sight of the trees he knew were somewhere beyond them.

  “Liam.” Again, her voice cut through the red haze of his vision. “You’re raining flowers.”

  Not flowers, seeds. He stared at the maple tree seeds drifting in the surrounding air. They looked like faeries. Wings helped them float through the air and glide to new places.

  Perhaps he would lose control again. Maybe he would make trees grow throughout this building until the humans were choked, just like they had done to the plants.

  No, he needed a distraction. That had been his plan, and Morgan wanted him to listen to her. To believe for a few moments that he was more than just an elemental or a king ruled by his own hatred for humans.

  He would be a good man. He would be a good king.

  Unfortunately, those two plans seemed at odds.

  Desperate, he reached for her. Liam tunneled his hands through her hair and pressed his lips against the soft cushion of hers. “Witch, I am overwhelmed. Distract me. Own me. Ruin me if you must, but do not let me look at this cursed land any longer.”

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her body against his. This, he knew. The world could melt away for a few moments in her arms.

  21

  Morgan couldn’t even guess what was going through his head. But the moment the seeds started flowing off his shoulders, she knew something was very, very wrong.

  He couldn’t lose control here. Far too many people’s lives were in the balance. Why hadn’t she realized this would be too much for him?

  Because she’d trusted his court would guide their king. Foolish woman that she was, she’d thought faeries would understand their ruler. But they didn’t.

  Faeries were selfish, tactful creatures. If the king wanted to wipe this planet clean of humans, the rest of his court must as well.

  If he needed a distraction, she was happy to provide it. After all, it felt as though the fate of the world was in her hands. This man could destroy everything she knew the world to be.

  Morgan kissed him in a frenzied bid for passion. Though, it didn’t take much to light the fires between them. He licked her lips as though she were made of sugar, and every inch of her body reacted.

  She arched. Perhaps that was what he was looking for, or maybe he was just waiting for permission to use her to satisfy his own need.

  With a guttural groan, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest. His other hand twisted in her hair. She was locked against him, incapable of moving and forced to endure the fiery sweep of his tongue.

  His body was solid, like the rocks of his mountains. Almost too hard, too hot, too unbearably demanding.

  She whimpered as he drew her closer, pressing the stiff length of his arousal against her hip. She knew intimately what he could do with that. And while they’d both been busy, she hadn’t forgotten the passion and desire in his touch.

  “Morgan,” he groaned into her ear, “please tell me this infernal place has a bedroom.”

  “A bedroom?” she chuckled, wiggling against him. “Since when did we need a bedroom?”

  At that, he pulled away from her. A curious expression changed his face, softening it into something close to a smile. Liam eased his hand from her hair and stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “You deserve a bed, witch. Not just a quick fuck on the floor of a place neither of us know.”

  Heaven and Hell, why did he have to claw his way into her heart like this? Why couldn’t he be satisfied with using her and that being the end of it?

  “Come with me,” she said. Taking his hand, she led him into the back of the penthouse where she assumed a bedroom awaited them.

  Her guess was correct. The first door she opened revealed a massive king sized bed with white sheets. In fact, everything in the room was white. The walls, the floors, even the dressers.

  “This will not do,” he muttered behind her.

  Morgan felt the swelling of his power long before he used it. The cool breeze of his magic brushed through her hair and teased her skin with electric goosebumps.

  She shuddered, closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them, the room had changed into an oasis of green. Vines dripped from the ceiling like garlands, flowering with great white petals that showered down like raindrops. Moss covered the floor and ivy tangled around the bed, creating a four poster look in what had once been a modernized beauty.

  He had created a bedroom full of green things for them. A greenhouse in the middle of a concrete jungle.

  She didn’t get a single second to breathe out her wonder before his hands framed her hips. He pulled her back against him, pressing his hard length against her bottom and breathing in the scent of her hair. “Will this suit, witch?”

  “It will, faerie.”

  She turned in his arms and tilted her head back, awaiting his kiss.

  He gripped her ribs, tugging her against him so sharply she lost all her breath. The sultry heat of his exhalations brushed her cheeks and mouth. But he didn’t kiss her, not yet. He hovered above her, rocking his hips back and forth against hers. “You are the only thing that keeps me sane, and I don’t know why.”

  “Witches are prone to madness,” she replied. “I know how to deal with you.”

  “All the faerie gods smiled down upon me when you walked into my realm.” He pressed his lips against hers in a butterfly-soft kiss. “They cursed you with me, however. A faerie king knows only destruction.”

  “You know far more than that.” Morgan pressed her hand against his chest. His heart beat against her palm, faster and faster as she slid her hand down his belly and palmed his hard length. “Now prove it.”

  Liam let out a tortured groan. His hands grasped her thighs, catching her as she leapt into his arms. He walked them back to the flower covered bed and laid her down. A cascade of petals surrounded her, and the scent of roses was almost cloying in the air.

  He made quick work of her clothing. Every garment was pulled from her body with almost surprising force until she lay naked and bare in the petals.

  His gaze heated until it was almost a physical touch upon her person. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “A queen I intend to worship.”

  How was a woman to resist words like that? He crawled up her body and was so perfect, so warm. So much more than anyone she’d ever met before.
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br />   Liam silenced her whimpers with a kiss. His hands tunneled through her hair and spread out the black locks over the pillow.

  And she couldn’t touch enough of him. Morgan slid her hands along his back, his chest, his stomach. The hard planes of his body were so distracting. She couldn’t think when she touched him, as though he’d lit a fire in her mind that could only be satisfied through physical touch.

  When she slowed, he held her hands against his chest. “Don’t stop, love.”

  “Liam,” she moaned against his neck. “Please don’t make me wait.”

  Another shower of petals rained down from above them. The plants shuddered at the same time he did. His entire body quaked as he reached between them and fit himself between her thighs.

  The slow flexing of his hips was pure torture. Morgan tossed her head back and stared up at the flowers above them. They bloomed more and more with every passing second.

  She had no words to describe his perfection. The way he stretched her nearly to pain, but so full it was exactly what she needed. How every thrust took her farther, deeper into the madness of his touch.

  The deep, hidden part of her that was pure instinct couldn’t get enough. She raked her nails down his back without care if she drew blood. He snarled in response, bending low to catch one of her nipples between his teeth.

  Their rhythm sped up. He drove into her with single minded purpose and all she could do was chase him. He was relentless in pursuit of his goal, and she allowed him to guide her. Trusted him to know that with every glide, every moment their hips met, she was one step closer to oblivion.

  “Liam,” she gasped, her voice hoarse and raspy. She didn’t know what the question was in her tone, or what she was asking for.

  But he did.

  He sped up even faster, impossibly strong and powerful with each stroke.

  And then it was too much. She arched her back and rode the wave of pleasure that began in her toes and clenched through her entire body. She locked her arms around his shoulders and held on as he continued, thrusting harder and harder until he too clenched his teeth and groaned.

  Her entire body felt liquified. She wasn’t a person anymore, just a glistening recipient of magic and incredible pleasure.

  Liam rolled to the side, his lips ghosting down her shoulder. His breathing slowed from the great gusts of breath he’d drawn in. “Witch, you ruin me.”

  She couldn’t contain the grin on her face. “Good.” Morgan tugged him closer to her side, curling into the hollow of his body. “I think I like you, ruined and all.”

  22

  It was a long while before she left the comfort of their warm bed. The king still slept soundly, but her mind was restless. Something called out to her, something magical and powerful.

  So, she left the comfort of his arms and padded into the living room. Morgan stood in the kitchen, barefoot and covered in nothing more than a stolen blanket.

  She centered her soul, allowing her mind to wander toward the magic reaching out to her. “Yes? I am listening.”

  The voice appeared in her mind too easily. Almost as though it had been there for far longer than she’d given it permission. “We’ve been waiting for you to return to the human realm. Is it done?”

  Ah, there they were. The strangers who had showed up in her home and threatened her with blackmail. If they thought to force her hand, they’d be sorely disappointed. Now, they had nothing to hold over her.

  There was no home for her to return to. They could dig the boys up underneath her hedges and it didn’t matter if the humans found them. Her own coven had likely disowned her.

  Morgan felt confident in her response. “No, it’s not done. He’s here with me.”

  A long pause boomed louder than a drum. Then came a scream, “You brought him to the human realm?”

  She winced. “I didn’t bring him. He came when I escaped.”

  “You were supposed to kill him!”

  “And when I met him, I realized you were wrong. He doesn’t need to die, he just needs to understand the changes in the human realm. He needs to know they are trying their best.”

  The stranger, she was certain it was the vampire, growled. “He is a danger to this entire realm. You would let him wander the earth when he is so close to losing control?”

  “I trust him,” she replied. The truth rang in her ears. She trusted him. More than she’d ever trusted anyone else, and that was terrifying.

  “Then we shall rescind our deal with your coven. Watch your back witch, many people want your head on a pike.”

  “I have the protection of the Spring Court, vampire. Please attack me. The king you’re so afraid of would love nothing more than to meet you.”

  She severed their connection with a resounding pop. Green magic glowed all around her, stolen from the king as she had the last time they’d enjoyed each other’s company.

  The strangers had talked with her coven? Why? Did they think she was on some kind of holy mission to kill a faerie king?

  “I need a drink,” she muttered. If this was a faerie home, there had to be some kind of alcohol in the cabinets.

  Rummaging through a stranger’s belongings felt a little wrong. She still did it. What else was she supposed to do while the sun set? Sit on the uncomfortable white sofa and not touch anything?

  Her fingers grazed a bottle of whiskey. With a soft, “Ah hah,” she pulled it from the cabinet and poured herself a tall glass.

  So many questions brewed deep inside her. The strangers wanted him dead. The faeries wanted him to destroy the humans and bring this realm back to its former wild glory. Morgan didn’t think either side was correct.

  There had to be another option, hidden somewhere just out of her reach. An option where millions of humans could live, while the fae still thrived.

  She sipped at her whiskey and watch the sun dip below the horizon. Darkness stretched over the city and all the lights blinked to life. She wasn’t sure if she even moved for hours before she heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching her.

  Warm lips pressed against the connection where her neck and shoulder met. “Hello, Morgan.”

  “Good morning, or evening I suppose.”

  He cupped her hips with both hands and tugged her back against him. “Why are you standing in front of the windows as though you’re plotting my demise?”

  She stiffened. Had she been thinking about that while staring out at the city falling asleep? She wasn’t certain. But words still flowed from her mouth and poured out without her permission. “The people who sent me to kill you reached out.”

  “I know.” He pressed another kiss to her neck. “I felt their magic.”

  She swallowed hard. “They wanted proof I’d done what they asked.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  He hesitated for a brief moment. His hands flexed against her sides before he asked, “Are you considering killing me again, Morgan?”

  She should consider it. The human realm would be safe if he wasn’t here. Or at least back in his own realm where she could pull the wool over his eyes once again. But that was wrong and she couldn’t be that person.

  Could she?

  Morgan shook her head. “No, I can’t do that to you.”

  He relaxed his grip. “Then why are you so upset?”

  She didn’t know. The answer was far more complicated than explaining the human realm to him. She wanted so many assurances she knew he couldn’t give her.

  That he wouldn’t kill anyone in the human realm without reason. That he would control his magic when she knew he couldn’t.

  His magic was volatile. It ruled his body just as much as he did. And that was more deadly than his opinions on humans.

  She licked her lips and remained frozen in his grasp. Morgan couldn’t tell him what she wanted, and she also couldn’t ask the questions that would help. Instead, all she managed was, “What would happen if you took the Earthen Throne?”


  He released her. Stepping away, his footsteps backed into the kitchen before he responded. “Why do you want to know that?”

  She shrugged. “Everyone’s so concerned you’ll do it. The people who sent me want to make sure you never even get a chance. The faeries want you to take the throne and say it’s important that you do.”

  “What faeries have you been talking to?”

  “The one your magic created in your realm.” She lifted the glass for another sip, only to realize her hands were shaking. “I want to know what would happen, Liam.”

  “You don’t need to know because I don’t intend on taking the throne.” His voice was clipped and short.

  Morgan could just see his reflection in the glass. He stood next to the kitchen counter with his hands braced atop it. The picture of a tortured hero. He stared down at the white surface instead of looking back at her.

  “I want to know,” she repeated. “It’s important that I do.”

  “Why?” he spat. “Why do you need to know something that would be the ruin of everything I am?”

  “So I can help you stop it.” She didn’t want their lives to come to that. But if she had to prevent him from ending the world, she would.

  “I don’t want you anywhere near the elemental or the throne.”

  His reflection changed. Morphing into something she didn’t recognize, a person who wasn’t her Liam. Branches appeared on top of his head, twining around each other into a semblance of a crown. A glorious crown indeed, but one she never wanted to see on his head.

  His skin changed into bark. His face warped into something still handsome but terrifying. A mantle of green moss spread down his shoulders and touched the ground.

  He was the Green Man. The god who had inspired so many of the Celts to worship him.

  She remembered the legends. She knew the stories of the earth god who could destroy with a single wave of his hand.

  That was not the man she knew. Nor was it the one she might love.

  Morgan lifted the glass to her lips and let whiskey burn the anxiety out of her throat. “Tell me.”