by Bec McMaster
Last night, she made swift work of all my intentions. I’m not going to let her do it to me again.
“Do you know what I want?” I nudge her onto her hands and knees, driving my thigh between hers as I curl my fist in her hair.
“What?” she gasps, rocking back against me.
I draw her up onto her knees and nuzzle against her neck, every inch of us plastered together. “I want you to scream for mercy, Violet. I want you to beg for my cock.” I kiss her throat, and curl my other hand over her breast as she sinks back into me, my cock sliding through her wetness. “But most of all, I want you to scream my name.”
“So needy,” she gasps. “Is this what you demand from all the girls?”
I swat her backside. “There are no other girls.”
Violet laughs, shooting me a sultry look over her shoulder. “Not anymore, anyway. I’ve ruined you for all others.”
“You did more than that.” I drive into her with a single thrust, and her inner muscles clench around me as she moans. Spearing my fingers between her thighs I work her hard. “You ruined me, Violet. I took one look into those eyes of yours and swore you’d be mine.”
“Vi,” she moans. “Call me Vi.”
I don’t know why, but I suddenly have the suspicion she hasn’t been entirely truthful with me. “Were you lying to me?” I pinch her nipple. “Your name isn’t Violet, is it?”
“All this talk,” she gasps, “of names. What is in a name?”
“It’s all the better to claim you with,” I snarl, as I drive her forward onto her forearms.
She knows nothing of pleasure. She’s only instinct in this moment, letting me put her where I want her. I tilt her hips until I’m riding over that spot deep within, the one I know gives so much pleasure.
And there it is.
Her breath catches. A spasm works its way through her. She gasps. “What are you—?”
“If you won’t say my name, then you may call me ‘my prince.’” I grind over her again, feeling heat flash through my balls. She’s so fucking tight she’s going to kill me.
“My handsome fairy tale prince?” There’s another laugh. “That feels so good. I thought you intended to punish me.”
Oh, she’s got a defiant streak. I smile. I like it. “Maybe I will. One day. But you’re too innocent to know what you’re asking for.”
She tenses again and I know it’s the “one day”. “What I’m asking for?”
I reach between her thighs and pinch her clit. Vi reacts like I’ve set off a bomb, her shocked body clenching around mine.
“Oh gods,” she moans, resting her forehead down on her hands and arching back into me like she’s begging for more. A hint of a tattoo peeks out from beneath her curtain of hair.
“Just ‘my prince.’” I tease, and then I’m pushing her over the edge, pinching her again, alternating it with gentle flicks of my fingers, then back to pain again. Until she’s gasping, begging me for obliteration.
“As you wish,” I press down hard and fuck my way into her in long, slow strokes that make my own teeth grind together. The clench of her body is surreal. I planned on prolonging this, but there’s no help for me, no use other than to come with her—
Throwing my head back, I bite my lip and spill my seed within her.
Vi shudders, her body trembling with aftershock. Little lightning jolts go through her with every brush of my hands on her hips, her thighs. I can barely hold my weight off her anymore, and as my cock slips from her warm body, we tumble into the grass together, breathing hard.
“You’re beautiful when you beg me,” I whisper, drawing her back into my arms. Her eyes are glazed, hair tangled across her lips. “So fucking beautiful.”
Vi sinks her hand through my hair and pulls my face down to kiss her.
“You’re the beautiful one,” she admits, her voice rough and low as we break free of each other.
“Mmm.” I brush the slickness of my seed across her thigh. “You know how to be careful?” It honestly didn’t occur to me to ask last night. I took one look at her and lost all hint of common sense.
“Careful?”
I draw back to look at her. “You have a sachet of bitter nettle tea to drink?”
Though children are rare for the fae, accidents very rarely occur. Most of the females attending the rites bring little sachets with them.
Vi sits up sharply. “Oh. Yes. Yes, I can get my hands on some.”
So she wasn’t planning this…. Not beyond yesterday, anyway. I don’t know why I like the thought of that.
Or maybe I do.
I didn’t want to be just a body she chose to lose her virginity to.
“Mmm.” I kiss her arm, her shoulder, her—
“Vi!” someone calls.
Her head shoots up, attention locking on the voice like a deer scenting the hounds. Shifting onto one hand, I rest my chin on her shoulder. “Who is—?”
“Vi!” Another low hiss of the word. “Where in the Underworld are you? Mother’s looking for you.”
Vi?
I try to reach for her but she’s gone, vanishing from my arms as if she’d never been there. Whipping to her feet, she snatches at her dress and then her shoes, clearly trying to find her underwear.
“You weren’t wearing any,” I remind her, lying back on the grass and rubbing the heels of both hands over my face. “You don’t have to go.” I shoot her a lazy smile. “Your mother won’t mind if you’re a little late, I’m sure.”
Vi shimmies into the gown, draping its loose straps over her shoulders. She shoots me a look. “You don’t know her.” The words are dry, and then she lifts her voice. “I’m here, Andi. Just… give me a moment.”
A shadow pauses outside the thicket. “Vi?” the woman hisses. “What—? Are you—?”
“Not alone,” I call out, which earns a certain scalded silence.
Vi crouches before me.
“Thank you, my handsome prince.” There’s an edge of wistfulness to her. “Thank you for giving me a night to remember.”
Light’s starting to creep through the thicket. Her gaze drops to the shadows of Darkness obliterating my chest.
“Here,” she murmurs, gesturing to the back of her neck. “There’s a tiny button there. Can you—?”
I brush her hair aside, finding the little pearl button among the dripping lace. It’s ridiculously small, and my fingers too clumsy, but I manage it, even as the woman outside our little nest paces. There’s something dark down her spine. I try to brush her hair aside to see what it is, but she slaps my fingers impatiently. “Button.”
“As my lady wishes.” Unable to help myself, I press a kiss to her neck. “Will I see you tonight?”
She hesitates.
“I want to see you again.” Another glancing kiss. I’ve only just found her. I’m not letting her go now.
“I shouldn’t.” She glances back over her shoulder, biting that lip. “I shouldn’t have given you even this. My mother….”
“Fuck your mother.” I capture her chin and with it, her mouth. She tastes like sweet hesitance, but the second my tongue darts against hers, she moans and kisses me back.
“You don’t understand.” Vi trembles as she presses her forehead to mine. “My mother will kill you if she hears of this.” Fingertips brush against my cheeks. “I just wanted…. Once. I just wanted a single night to pretend I was free to make my own choices.”
Don’t we all?
But there’s something in the way she says it that makes me draw back and consider her heart-shaped face.
She doesn’t want me to know her name.
She’s scared of her mother.
There’s no reason to connect the dots, but a lead weight starts to settle in my chest. Premonition, perhaps.
Then she’s gone.
She peers out through the brambles, dawn’s soft light pouring over her as she winds her hair into a knot and pins it atop her head. Without the cascade of her hair, her back is revealed. T
he dress cuts wide and dips low, revealing all of that smooth, olive skin. Skin I never truly noticed last night, when she danced in my arms. Her hair was always covering it. Gold flashes on her back. Gold and black and red…. It’s a tattoo that runs down her spine, one I never noticed in the light of the stars.
One by one my eye picks out roses, and then the gold begins to make sense…. Thorns. Thorns and roses, and a gilded crown.
Everything within me goes cold.
My mother.
She’s got the royal fucking crest of Asturia on her back.
“Vi.” Relief floods the stranger’s voice, and there’s a whispered half-exchange between them that ends with, “What were you thinking? Staying out so late? She’s already asking for you!”
Vi.
Not Violet.
There are two daughters. Andraste, the Crown Princess, and…. “Iskvien.”
It captures her attention. Dark eyes meet mine as I slowly push to my feet, and she looks a little confused, as if to wonder how I know her name. “Goodbye, my prince.”
There’s no guile in her expression.
No hint she even suspects.
She doesn’t know.
And then she’s gone, leaving me with the reeling sensation that fate just kicked me in the teeth.
There’s only a single starburst mask, lying forlornly in the grass.
“You ruined everything,” Thalia accuses, the second I’m back within my tents. “Princess Lucere was there to meet you, and you barely even looked at her, before you ran off with another woman.” She rakes her hands through her hair. “I can fix this,” she says, half to herself. “I can—”
“No.” There’s no point in playing alliances now. “There will not be a marriage between Evernight and Ravenal.”
Thalia pales. “What?”
I can barely breathe as I turn away from her, rubbing at my knuckles. Eris remains a silent shadow at my back. She knows. The queensmoot may be the only time when murder and treachery is forbidden, but I still don’t go anywhere without at least her or Baylor at my back, and it seems Eris drew the short straw last night.
She’d have given me enough distance to have some semblance of privacy, but when I finally exited my heather-scented bower, she’d arched an eyebrow at me.
“Out.” I tilt my head toward the door. I need to bathe and dress. I need a fucking moment alone to still the thoughts circling my head like sharks.
She’s Asturian.
It’s a fist within my chest. A knot of discordant emotion.
She’s fucking Asturian. My promise, my hopes, my dreams…. They’re all turning into a nightmare.
Because Adaia will never allow me to touch one of her precious daughters.
The daemon within me laughs. Did you think it would be that easy?
“Out?” Thalia repeats, as if she’s never heard the word before. She sets her hands on her hips. “Did you just tell me to get out of your tents?”
I wasn’t thinking. “Please,” I add. “I need to bathe.”
Oh, it’s too late for that. Her eyes narrow. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like you were just punched in the sternum. Eris?”
She looks to Eris, who is pouring a glass of wine.
For breakfast.
“What is going on here?” Thalia demands.
“Thanks,” I mutter, as Eris turns with the wine.
She merely arches her brow at me. “Who said it was for you?”
And then she drains it.
I pour my own.
“It was the woman, wasn’t it?” Thalia’s apparently scented blood, and she’s smart enough to put it all together. “The way you went after her—”
“It’s her,” I tell her.
There’s a moment where she doesn’t understand, and then the color bleeds from her cheeks. “Her? The one you saw all those years ago?”
I nod.
She clasps her hands over her mouth. “Mother of Night.” Thoughts race through her eyes. “Clearly, things went well between you…. And you’ve finally found her. I don’t understand what the problem is.”
“The problem is,” Eris says to Thalia, “that she’s fucking Asturian. Adaia’s youngest daughter, by the look of her. Lysander was supposed to watch Thiago’s back last night, and I traded in with him sometime after three so he could get some sleep.” She jacks her thumb toward me. “I didn’t realize who our prince was cuddling up with until this morning, when it was too late. Or I would have put a halt to it.”
“Asturian?” Thalia whispers in horror.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap. “I didn’t know who she was either, until I saw the tattoo down her back.”
“You didn’t think to ask?” she demands.
“She lied. She said her name was Vi. For Violet.” It’s a troubling thought, because surely Vi didn’t know who I was. She would never have lain with me if she did.
But why lie about it?
Is it because her mother wouldn’t approve?
She was a virgin. She couldn’t hide that.
She also couldn’t hide the fact she’d been fairly determined to get rid of her innocence, because I was content to wait.
This is a nightmare.
If Adaia catches wind of this, she’ll have me murdered.
“Maybe you can use this,” Eris points out. “You were talking about kidnapping the younger princess, after all.”
I shoot her a glare. That was before I realized she’s the woman I’ve been searching for all my life.
“Or not,” Thalia says swiftly.
I tug the mask from my pocket, rubbing my fingers over the sequins. “Can you please—the both of you—just give me a moment alone?”
Eris slams the goblet down, bows her head and then vanishes.
Thalia, however, pauses before me, her eyes on the mask. “This doesn’t mean it’s the end of everything,” she whispers. “I know how much she means to you.”
“She means nothing.” My voice is raw. “Because she’s a stranger.”
Thalia kisses me cheek. “You’ve spent five hundred years wishing her to life. Don’t give up now, just because we’ve faced a brief setback.”
“We?” I can barely say the words. “I thought you were all for the alliance with Ravenal?”
Thalia sighs. “Fuck Ravenal. It was a good plan. But this is forever, Thi.” She steps away from me a little wistfully. “You don’t throw the god’s gifts in their face.”
“Even if they’re your enemy’s daughter?”
She bites her lip. “Maybe it’s time for peace? Maybe this is how we finally win it?”
I tap the mask against my lips, breathing in the scent of Vi. She’s all night-blooming Sorrow flowers and sweetness; moonlight and roses. “Maybe.”
The problem is, I know Adaia far too well to ever believe she’ll agree to peace.
6
Iskvien
Exhilaration buzzes over my skin as I head for my mother’s tent, my wet hair knotted at the base of my skull. I washed and dressed before the summons came, but the fact remains that something irrefutable changed within me last night.
Before I kissed a stranger, I was Iskvien, a caged princess facing a marriage she despises.
Now there’s a throbbing beat of defiance in my chest. No, no, no, it says, in time with my heartbeat. I know the cost of defiance. To deny this contract with Etan will earn me untold punishment, but the wildness within me can’t be tamed.
I don’t know what to do.
Last night was just a dream, a mirage, but it feels like a jolt of magic injected straight into my veins. It was more than I ever expected it to be, and now that I’ve known the touch of another man, I can’t help thinking that I could never submit to Etan.
I can still feel my stranger’s hands on my skin. I can taste his mouth. The imprint of his cock between my thighs.
I am worth more than this. I will not have my future stolen, simply because my mother will score some political points.
/> Now I just have to tell her.
Sounds echo from within Mother’s tent as I approach.
Something strikes flesh with a whistling grace, and a harsh grunt fills the air.
I know that sound. Mother’s got her whip in hand. I’ve felt the bite of it once or twice, but the worst part is when she coils it around her hand, length by length, her eyes locking upon you as she advances.
My body refuses to move another inch and a cold sweat breaks out down my spine. She can’t know what happened last night. We managed to lose the ever-present guard who follows me at all times. But what if… she found out?
What if my handsome stranger knew who I was?
What if he said something to someone and they told Mother?
It’s ridiculous. The amount of coincidences to achieve such a thing are too great.
But my feet itch to turn around and vanish back into the tent city.
So much for defiance. One flick of the whip and you’re already looking for ways to submerge into the Old Iskvien.
I force a slow breath through my lungs. It’s chilling how easy it would be to let defiance smolder to ashes. Be brave, be brave, be brave.
Besides, it’s too late. The guards are looking at me and one of them draws the canvas flap back, ushering me inside.
If I make her wait, she’ll only have me dragged before her.
I duck into the gloom of the tent.
There’s a stranger on his knees, his brown hair sweat-drenched and bloody, and his shirt clinging to him in strips. Raw flesh encircles his wrists—a sure sign of weeks worth of manacles, if not months.
“Fuck you,” the stranger says, tilting his head back. He pushes off his knuckles and knees and—
“Ah ah ah, Finn,” Edain says, setting one hand on the stranger’s shoulder and forcing him back to the floor. His eyes never leave my mother’s back, and the way he’s fingering the knife in his other hand makes me wonder just who he intends to use it upon. “My queen said you were to remain on your knees.”
The stranger laughs under his breath. “Is that what you do for her, Pet? Does she make you get on your knees too? Do you grovel before her and—”
Edain moves so fast it’s a flashing blow. The stranger’s head whips to the side, where it remains for a moment as if he’s gathering his breath. “You shouldn’t speak of my queen like that,” Edain says, but there’s a flare of rage within his eyes.
