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November 29 - December 4, 2023
We are three riders of the Wild Hunt—ghosts of Fae warriors, sent to you by the mercy of the god-stars, to grant you a chance for redemption.
The one-thousandth mission is the most important by far. Our squadron leader, Nocturis, has granted me this body for several hours each day to remind me what’s at stake—what I could earn if this mission is a success. I could finally earn my chance at a second life.
“You’re stupid,” she snaps. “Waking someone out of a sound sleep and expecting them to…what? Submit? You’ll find that I don’t submit. Not for anyone.” The long-dormant predator in me perks up at that, rising eagerly, licking its lips. Oh, you will submit.
She looks at my outstretched fingers as if I’ve offered her an oozing skull covered in rotten flesh. In fact, she looks at all of me that way—as if she can’t stand the sight of me. “No,” she says, with a slight shudder. That shudder wrecks my fragile composure. At her sign of revulsion, something inside me snaps. I used to be glorious, desirable, irresistible—and this mortal worm shudders at the thought of my touch?
“Walk with me.” “I’d rather eat glass.” Irritation heats my blood again, but it’s mingled with arousal because her tits are far too visible through that stupid black nightgown.
Every market square in the city is a hub of joyous, raucous delight, and the revelry spills along the streets. Snow-laden rooftops sparkle under the starlight, and blue smoke curls from chimneys, scented with the aroma of roast goose, sizzling pork, spiced fruit, and stewed pumpkin sprinkled with cinnamon. Torches and lanterns fill the streets with a merry golden glow, and the dancing voices of stringed instruments quiver on the air.
A dream come true
You’re a rich girl, born to privilege, who believes that she has been badly used and that such poor treatment gives her the right to treat everyone else with equal harshness. Women like you are all too common.” Her slim fingers curl into fists. “I. Am not. Common.”
“You’re fucking cute, you know that?” he says, his grin broadening. A dimple pops into his cheek.
“This is simpler—a clean break. If I find that someone is indispensable, I’ll hire them again.” “If they’ll rejoin you.” “They will. I’m the Queen. They won’t have a choice.” “You’re a merciless bitch.” I glare at him. “Fuck you. You don’t actually care about any of these people. You’re simply spouting the rhetoric you’ve been taught to spew at people like me. You judge me, and yet you couldn’t care less what happens to my subjects. I’m doing this for the good of the kingdom as a whole—for our survival.” “Survival is important,” he says smoothly. “Compassion is more important.”
And I already explained that I hate you because you’re Fae. It has nothing to do with your beauty.” Mistake, oh, that was a mistake—I should never have said those words. Your beauty? Oh gods. Why, why did I say that?
I’m beginning to think that’s what you need, little queen—a good hard fuck by a man who knows how to deal with brats.”
“You need someone to take you beyond yourself, to seize control of your body and fuck you brainless. You need a man to bend you over and fill you up, to make you crave release so badly you forget your own name. You need someone to stroke those pretty lips until they open, and then thrust himself into your mouth and pump until you gag—yet you don’t protest, because you crave the taste of him. And after he spills his load down your throat, you look up at him, and all you can say, through the tears streaming down your cheeks, is ‘May I please have some more?’”
“If the king and queen of the land did not want me, there must be a reason, right?” I say bitterly. “Something must be wrong with me. I must not be worth loving. If I told those girls the truth, they would realize they had been fooled into being my friends—that I wasn’t worth the time or effort after all.”
You blame your family for what you have become—for the torment of anger in your heart—but they are not the only ones at fault. You chose to become this person.”
But how can you be compassionate when your heart is bruised? How can you summon the energy for kindness when your soul is empty and you have nothing left?
“I want you,” I whisper, and to my shame, two hot tears of frustration escape my eyes. “I want you, you beautiful little brat. I want you so badly I can hardly breathe.”
I feel my lips stretching, widening. My mouth is still full so I take care not to show my teeth—but it’s a smile. I’ve smiled many times since my parents’ death—usually in derision or mockery. But this smile is pure and warm, and I forgot how it felt, to smile like that. “There you are,” Abraxas says quietly, with an answering smile.
I should reject him… and yet he has softened me by massaging my feet, feeding me, making me smile. Every part of my weary body wants to be against him—I want to drape myself across the expanse of his bulk and draw energy from his strength. I want him to fling me around like a doll, use me…
“I wouldn’t touch her,” Helix advises. “She doesn’t care for mortals—she’s liable to roast your hand and then gobble it up.” But the mare is nosing toward me. Her nostrils are the size of my fist and when she snorts, hot steam puffs from them. “Shit,” I whisper. “You’re a beauty, aren’t you? Look at you... you’re magnificent. A queen among horses.” The horse rumbles and shoves her nose against my hand. She’s a ghost, so the sensation is odd—a misty, slithering sensation against my knuckles. But when I open my hand and hold it vertically, she shoves her nose against my palm and this time I can
...more
“Hang on, Your Bratfulness.
HA
“I think you prefer it when someone is mean to you. It justifies your own behavior, your rage. And that’s where you’re most comfortable—in a place of rage.”
gave her what she needed from me—what she can’t get from you
always took women to bed, though. No reason for that to change just because of a red-headed prick with beautiful eyes.
You endangered our subject’s life—I gave her a damn good orgasm. We are not the same.”
Fuck yes
I don’t care that he’s hurting, I don’t care—he’s Fae, and a murderer—he’s planning to torture me with visions—he has ruined my life—he deserves—he— But seeing him hurt like this hurts me. I try to steel myself against the feeling, but it overwhelms me—pity, longing, compassion, mercy. “No!” I scream the word, pulling the staff out of the fountain.
“Then let’s make it interesting. From now on, every time someone draws blood, the injured party takes off a piece of clothing.”
A broken laugh cracks from him. “You want me so badly you’re willing to risk your life?” “No.” His amber eyes fracture for a second, but then I say, with all the blood-soaked longing of my sinful soul, “I need you that badly. More than I’ve ever needed anything…even revenge.”
“Shit,” he exclaims brokenly. “Gods… you’re perfect. You feel like the end of everything—it’s like fucking the velvet cunt of Death herself.”
“Damn this gorgeous little body—damn you—you’re my blissful end, Lauriel. My darling oblivion.”
“And yet, you’re letting me fuck you,” he says softly. “You’re letting my filthy Fae hands grope this beautiful body. You’re letting Fae cock invade this lovely pussy. And you’re enjoying it.” A moaning whimper is my only answer.
“That’s not how it works. It’s nearly dawn, which means our time is at an end. You belong to Abraxas now.” My heart sinks, like it’s been plunged into an ice-cold bath. At the same moment, the familiar heat of rage sears my lungs. He’s leaving. Of course he is. Fuck him.
A few hours of sleep isn’t enough, especially when I keep waking, tormented by the subconscious awareness that I let myself want someone and they left, because of course they did. They always do.
You need connection, love, and I’m going to see that you get it.”
In fact, he’s one of the most personable and involved of all the gods. He has many realms to oversee, but he enjoys looking in on this one from time to time. I daresay that’s why he’s going to so much trouble to ensure that this kingdom, which is devoted to his worship, will survive and thrive under your rule.”
Wealth and power are not meant to endure, but to evolve. They should flow downward from hand to hand, seeking out those most in need of resources and agency.
“But you’re so cute when you laugh.” He gives me a broad, sweet grin. “So damn fuckable.”
“You feel how you feel,” he says simply. “No one can tell you otherwise. You can pretend, but your emotions remain what they are. They have reasons and value, and they require no explanation or justification to anyone.”
But a swat or two on that pretty ass when you’re especially stubborn might make a difference.” “I assure you, it will not.” The illicit quiver of my pussy says it would affect me, but not in the way he intends.
His lips close with mine. Broad, soft lips—rose-petal soft, and so warm I want to cry. He kisses me tenderly, like he really cares, like he— But he doesn’t. None of them actually care about me. They have a stake in this, that’s all. I must remember that.
“Fuck how you feel,” she says crisply. “Don’t let your pride get in the way of helping me do this for the children. Gods know they deserve to be happy, and so do we.” Kratchet looks at her for a moment, then hooks a hand around the back of her neck, right beneath the knot of her hair, and pulls her in for a kiss. “Bless the ancestors for bringing us together,” he whispers. “You always tell me what I need to hear.”
love you as you are, and I will love you even if you never change. And because I love you, I want you to be the best woman, the best queen, the best and brightest damn soul you can be. Slough off everything that’s been done to you—everything that isn’t really you—and become your true self.”
“I’m a butcher,” he says passionately. “A brawler. A fool sometimes, then and now. When I love, I love wholly and simply. And I’ve set my love on you. No matter what you do, what you choose, I’m yours. Your warrior, your guardian, your ghost. I’ll be the voice that tells you the truth when you fucking hate it, and I’ll think of you until my very soul is devoured by the Void. You can’t stop my love, Lauriel. You can’t stop me from having faith, and I believe in you more deeply than I’ve believed in anyone, even myself.”
Godsdamn me, I think I love him. Not just for loving me, but for being himself. I think I would do anything for him—be anything for him—and it frightens me, because I’ve never felt this way about anyone.
Despite everything they’ve endured—what I’ve put them through—these Fae are joyful, united, grateful.
I love you. You make me feel safe. You give me hope.
Brax is my protector and makes me laugh. Helix challenges me and wakes my most fiery passions. But Paemon—with him I feel calm, steady, and strong. He settles me. And with all the new emotions flooding my soul, I yearn to feel settled.
He smiles. His lavender eyes crinkle at the corners, and his long white canines glitter, and I can’t breathe. It’s not only that he’s beautiful—it’s that I made him smile, and I know, somehow, that a smile from him is a rare and precious thing.
“Your strength astounds me. You could accomplish incredible things, if you allow yourself a bit more kindness and generosity. I need no magic to know that your future could be a glorious one. The stuff of legends.”
Kissing him is like nightfall with a shower of sugared stars. It’s dark glitter in my mouth, in my mind, in my very soul. There’s wind flowing around us, lifting his hair and mine, as if the universe itself is weaving a spell just for us.
“I don’t mind physical pain,” he says at last. “But pain of the heart—it’s a thousand times worse, and only a fool would open himself to it.”
