Empress of Fae (Blood of a Fae, #3)

by Briar Boleyn

“Let me dominate you here, let me command you. Let me tell you to sit on my cock, let me tell you to take me in your mouth, but always know that outside of here, you're not just my equal, you're my fucking superior, and I'd follow you to the ends of the world if you told me to.” He gave a shaky laugh. “Hell, I'm already doing it, Morgan, and you haven't even told me to.”

“You're my mate," I whispered back. "My husband. I wouldn't have it any other way.”

All I've ever wanted was to be your protector. Your sanctuary.”

“I saw you, and I wanted to consume you. Like a fire that would only burn for me.”

“I'd rather be a villain by your side than play the hero for anyone else. The world is dark and vile, but I'd willingly follow you into the depths of hell itself.

“So consume me,” I whispered.

Women always believe they can redeem the worst sorts of men.

I wondered if she would pull away, but to my surprise, Orcades froze, then very carefully squeezed my hand in response, not letting go.

Maybe all three of you should remain with the fleet. You’re their leader, after all, Draven. I can wait.” “Absolutely fucking not.” The answer was instantaneous. “I’m coming to you, Morgan. As fast as I can.”

“We’re going to fucking kill him. That bastard who dared to lay a hand on you.”

Our. Such a simple word, but a thrill went through me as I heard it.

He was Kairos Draven Venator, after all. Prince of Claws. And my mate.

Both fae and mortals, their thrones shall swirl, In the child's hands, lies the end of the world.

Let Lancelet wield you, this I command you. Let her strike, and let her fight. She is worthy of you, Excalibur, she is worthy.

I was used to looking down on my little brother and wrapping him in my arms. But now we collided, my head hitting his.

Kaye was truly the sweetest Pendragon of us all.

“Two mated pairs,” Crescent said with pride. “Our empress, our prince, and their exmoors.”

This was it. I was going home to her. I was flying home to my mate.

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Fenyx. I’m no princess. You’re addressing the wife of Prince Kairos Draven Venator and the Empress of the Court of Umbral Flames and the empire of Myntra.” And then I conjured my flames.

Fortunately for me, Fenyx enjoyed hearing the sound of his own voice. Mad men often did.

“You look good like this. Bleeding out,” I said.

He flew towards Morgan with utter assuredness, as if a compass needle lay within his heart, his aim sure and true.

His blue eyes widened as I punched him squarely in the jaw. I had just enough time to register the shock within them before the sound of knuckles hitting bone echoed through the chamber.

I passed out of darkness as they left me and back into the light where a man was whispering the only name I ever wanted to hear in the most cherished voice I had ever known. “Morgan,” my mate whispered. “Return to me now.”

Let the bastard’s name be unwritten from the history of the world. It could not happen soon enough.

“Drawing out pain is for the likes of worms like him,” I said quietly. “It is not for you, Morgan.”

“Oh, Medra,” I heard my sister murmur. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in this or any world.”

“My wife backs herself with her own realm. I am merely thankful to be by her side,” Draven answered.

But in the meantime, here was light. Here was hope. Here in the arms of my mate, my beloved mate. My Draven.