by Bailey Dark
Seduced by The Fae King
Mated To The Fae King Book Three
Bailey Dark
Copyright © 2019 by Bailey Dark
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
BLURB
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Read The Next Book!
FREE Preview- Claimed by The Fae King
About the Author
Also by Bailey Dark
FREE Preview - The Beast King’s Bride
Subscribe & Claim Your Free Book!
BLURB
‘I slip my hands down past the small of her back and clench her tightly. She gasps as I hoist her up off the ground. But then her legs are around my waist and she’s kissing me as if she’s been starved of me for too long.’
Verity is trapped with the Dark God, Sadal, who is intent on destroying Alnembra with the aid of his demons and Bloodbane witches. With Verity lost to the enemy, Altair must find allies within the Fae realm who are willing to defy one of the old gods.
The war rages and Altair is on the losing side. Only ancient secrets and lost knowledge can help him defeat Sadal.
Power and magic are growing inside Verity, and she knows she must learn to use them in order to save herself, and hopefully Altair. But being kept prisoner by an evil and ancient god doesn’t make things any easier. She must learn to be brave.
Will Altair save his kingdom? And will the two finally accept their growing feelings?
Chapter 1
Verity
I wrap the blanket tighter around myself as the frigid chill of cool, mountain air slips into my room. The shutters closed over the window are warped and wet from the day’s rain and do little to block the wind. I can hear it howling outside, mingled with the shrieks of the demonic creatures. A shiver trails down my spine that has nothing to do with the chill.
The fireplace is filled with ash and charcoal, smoke curling from the burnt-out embers. I stare into it, at the Bloodbane book I tossed onto the flames. It’s unburnt, undamaged from the flames it immediately quenched after I tried to burn it. I tossed it into the fire after reading some of the more gruesome rituals, even worse than the Holy Rite.
My stomach turns as the drawings of the rituals pop into my mind. I’ve tried to forget them, but some pictures just stay with you. I’ve spent days since my capture reading the book, teaching myself spells and enchantments that I can use against the Bloodbane. But there was only so much I could read before I made myself sick.
I curl my hands into fists, glaring at the binding of the book. I want the power, but I’m not willing to face the darkness of that power. I feel weak, useless, and guilty. It’s my fault that Altair will lose this war against Sadal and the Bloodbane. How could he win against such overwhelming forces of darkness? And I’m unable to help because of my own weakness.
The door handle rattles and my head snaps towards it. I lunge for the book and snatch it from the ash as Sadal slips through the door. His black eyes glide over the ashy book in my hands and he smiles at me.
“Don’t like the reading material?” He asks, striding into the room.
I brush the gray embers from the red binding. “You could say that.”
I turn towards the hard cot that I’ve slept on the past few nights and toss the book onto it. For reasons I don’t know, Sadal has left the book with me. I suspect he thinks it will tempt as it did before into joining him.
Sadal leans against the fireplace, smirking. His long fingers tap over the dirty stones. “And how do you find your new quarters? Better than a cell, I presume?”
“Not all cells are the same,” I whisper.
His eyes narrow. “Ingratitude? From my reluctant bride? What a shock.”
“I’m not your bride,” I say forcefully, thinking of Altair. “I never will be.”
“You think your handsome, Fae prince will save you?” Sadal chuckles. “He’ll be dead by the end of the week.”
I stare down at my finger, where the engagement ring used to sit. It was taken from me the first night of my arrival here. “What do you want, Sadal?” I ask quietly.
“I came to offer you an invitation.” Sadal closes the distance between us. He lifts a finger to my cheek and slowly trails it over my chilled skin. “We move on Alnembra today. Would you like to join me?”
“Do I have a choice?” I stare at him through my eyelashes.
“You do, in fact,” Sadal says with a light tone. “Maaz has suggested feeding you to the demons. They’re getting awfully hungry – hungry enough to hunt inside our walls from time to time.”
I stare at the warped wooden door. That explains the shrill screams of terror that I’ve heard each night. My eyes snap back to Sadal and I stare at his wicked smile. This man doesn’t stop the demons from killing his own people, he might even enjoy it.
“I’ll come,” I say blandly.
If I stay here in the keep, I’ll be useless. The closer I can get to Alnembra, the greater my chances of escape. I might even find a way to sabotage Sadal’s army. I picture Altair facing off against Sadal and my heart clenches painfully. Altair could never win against an old god, not without help.
Sadal grins. “Excellent,” he purrs. “I can’t wait for you to see the glory of my forces.”
I don’t answer, instead gathering my few belongings into my arms. Instead of the silken dress I wore when I woke up in the keep, I’ve been given a scratchy woolen shift that keeps me warm. I leave the black gown in the room, there’s no need for it anymore. Sadal watches from the door as I collect my things and the book.
“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.
Chapter 2
Altair
I bend over the map of the continent in my council room, staring intently at the mountains along my border. The room is empty of my councilors, I can hardly stand their presence lately. I curl my lip, thinking of the wizened old Fae that I used to rely on for counsel. They warned me to school my temper, to be thoughtful about my next steps. The fate of Alnembra rests on you, they said.
As if I didn’t know that.
I tighten my grip on the heavy oak table as I stare at the dot on the map that symbolizes the Bloodbane keep. I know that’s where Verity is. I know Sadal and Maaz brought her there to use against me. I feel anger lancing through me as I remember the moment Sadal slung her unconscious body over his shoulder and disappeared before my eyes.
He stole her. He stole her. He stole her.
The words have echoed round my mind for days since her capture. The knowledge fuels my fury. It’s the only thing that has prevented me from collapsing after nights without sleep and days without food. I don’t need it, I tell myself whenever I feel a pang of hunger or the heaviness of fatigue. I don’t have time for it.
I trace my finger over the map, along the closest route towards the keep. I’ll march every single soldier in Alnembra through the mountain pass and over the steep slopes and cliffs to get Verity back. I’ll tear Sadal’s throat out myself.
The door creaks open, but I don’t bother looking away from the map. I can smell the sweat and adrenaline on the messenger as he steps into the room. “Your Grace,” the messenger says breathlessly.
“What?” I growl, digging a finger into the map over the Bloodbane keep.
“Lord Thalamain has returned, we spotted his sails on the horizon,” the messenger says.
I feel a spark of satisfaction at his words. With Thal’s return, he will have brought my allies. And with my allies, the Bloodbane won’t stand a chance against the combined forces of the Fae. “Good,” I say sharply.
Without another word, the messenger slips out of the room. I look out the window, towards the harbors of Desmarais. I can see the sharp, tall sails of the Wind-Singer against the cobalt blue sky. In the distance, hundreds of sails are scattered across the horizon – Stellium’s navy.
I press my lips together, curling my hands into fists at my sides. The Bloodbane could have attacked Alnembra at any time over the centuries, and yet they waited until I had returned to power and overthrown the curse. They shouldn’t have.
I stalk from the room, leaving my maps scattered throughout the council room. The stairs to the dungeon are so ancient and well-trodden, there are indentations in the stone from thousands and thousands of years of footsteps. I snatch a torch from a wall sconce and stride down the stairs into the chill air of the dungeons. The light of the torch bounces off the walls, casting strange shadows in the spiral staircase.
Five guards are stationed at the foot of the stairs, standing at attention. I don’t allow them to stand guard in the dungeon for more than three hours at a time. It’s too dangerous, too risky. The guards stare resolutely down the hall, towards the two prisoners. I know they haven’t spoken to them either, despite the Bloodbane witch cajoling them all hours of night and day.
I send them away with a lazy wave of my hand. Their armor clanks loudly as they march up the stairs, leaving me alone with the prisoners. The door above slams shut as they leave. The dungeon falls silent, so quiet I can hear the torch flames crackling. In the distance, I catch sight of slender fingers wrapped around the bars. When the light falls on them, the fingers slip away quickly, as if Navi is too ashamed to be seen in the light.
I narrow my eyes towards the bars of her cell, where I know she’s kneeling. Waiting for me. I stride towards her, my stomach twisting with fury and some inexplicable emotion that has my heartstrings lurching. I pause in front of her cell, studying the rusting bars that keep her trapped as my prisoner.
The light falls over her thin body. She’s kneeling in the center of the cell, her head bowed, as she has every day since I first visited her here. I glower down at her, gripping the wooden torch tightly in my anger. She looks up at me, her green eyes glazed with regret. My lips twist as I wrestle with my feelings; fury, sorrow, disappointment. I never expected Navi to be the one who betrayed me. I trusted her with my safety, with my people’s safety. And she worked against us to help the Bloodbane curse come to fruition.
I haven’t spoken a word to her since she locked herself in a cell and tossed the key at my feet. Her motives still plague me, all my memories of her shatter through my mind as I search for answers I can never find unless I ask. But the thought of speaking to her sends bile rising in my throat.
“Altair
,” Navi rasps softly. Her voice echoes through the dungeon and I cringe internally. I turn my head, closing my eyes as if to block out her voice. “Altair, I’m sorry.”
“No matter how many times you say it,” I say, “I can never forgive you for betraying me.”
My voice is hoarse, harsh, and unfamiliar to me. These are the first words I’ve spoken to Navi since her betrayal. Her eyes go wide, shining silver with held-back tears. She inhales sharply, a low whistle through her teeth.
“I know,” she whispers.
“Goodbye, Navi,” I say, turning away.
She falls into shadow just as she lunges at the bars. Her long fingers wrap around the rusting metal and she presses her face against it desperately. “Altair,” she cries, her voice cracking. “Are you eating? Sleeping? Please.” She chokes back a cry. “Take care of yourself.”
I ignore her, striding deeper into the dungeon. I hear her boots scuff against the stone floor as she drops away from the bars. The tightness between my shoulders softens as the echoing of her last words fades. Soon, the dungeon is silent again beyond the fall of my footsteps. I glance down at the shining leather boots. There are scuff marks and stains on the fine workmanship, but I hardly care. Just a week ago, I took care in dressing finely. I wonder vaguely how long I’ve worn these clothes.
But then, the woman I came for comes into view. The torch light falls over the last cell in the dungeon, casting a warm glow beyond the bars. But it doesn’t reach far, a small reminder of the darkness this woman worships.
