A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales, #2)

by K.F. Breene

P.S. My favorite part was definitely when he got stuck in the pit. Do not ruin that scene for me with semantics. It’s fantasy. Sometimes you need a little make-believe to ensure a horrible fall doesn’t kill the hero so that horse fucking is possible. P.P.S. Goddess strike me down, I meant fucking on a horse. Definitely a no to horse fucking.

“You might want to lock it, too.” I winked at him. “I wouldn’t want you escaping.” “You wouldn’t want us escaping…” he repeated, apparently thinking that was just hilarious. He twisted the lock on the door. “I will feed on your fear and your pain as you slowly die.” “Promises, promises.”

“I’m not talking about that. You were out with the everlass, weren’t you? Alone.” I lifted my chin a bit. “Yes. We need more leaves, and you’re being a dumpty cunt.

“Finley, your involvement with me has made you a target. Anything could happen to you out there. It’s not safe. I trusted you to stick to your room at night. If you continue to defy that trust…” “What?” I curled my hands into fists. “You’ll lock me in here? Keep me hostage until your mood improves? Because you’ve been in a terrible fucking mood for sixteen years and counting, and I don’t want to wait another sixteen for you to get your thumb out of your ass.”

“You will let me escort you out,” he ground out. “I will do what I want, and you will fuck all the way off. If I hadn’t been out there, Hadriel might be dead.

I will not live in fear, Nyfain. I will not cower in my room and wait for you to hover around me like some sort of poltergeist fart. I can handle myself, and you need to step out of the way and let me. If you can’t live with that, tough.”

“Staring is rude, Cathrin,” Hadriel called out as I emerged from the library. “Your ugliness is eternal, Hadriel,” a middle-aged woman shouted back as she slipped through an open door down the way. “That didn’t seem to bother you the other night, when you all but begged me to fuck your face— She’s gone. I’m talking to myself.”

Hadriel hopped up onto the next largest horse like he’d been doing it all his life. “I have never ridden,” Dabnye said quietly. “No problem, little darling. You can ride with Uncle Hadriel, the best horse whisperer in the kingdom.” He

“Yes… Well, you see, the thing is, we don’t allow beggars—” I slapped him in the dick. Not too hard—just enough to bend him over and quickly release his breath. I could’ve gone for the face, but that wasn’t unique enough. I wanted him to remember me. Now he would.

“He’s a dragon. A fight is what he’s so energized about. They live for starting fights.” He reached down and grabbed my hand, not nearly as great at hoisting me up as Nyfain was. “Great goddess, Hadriel, lift a weight once in a while.” “How dare you! That would ruin my wiry physique. What would all the boys say if I couldn’t bend just right?” “Guys don’t give a shit about the details, you know that. They’re just happy for a ride.”

“There is some sort of washerwoman following us, Finley,” Hadriel said, glancing back. “She looks mean. Does she bite?” “That’s just her face. She always looks like that.”

She is me. I am her.

“There’s no way we’re all sitting on this horse. Hannon is too big. It is Hannon, right? We weren’t properly introduced. I’d say that was because Finley was raised in a barn, but that would disrespect both of you. You’re too big to disrespect, and she’s too mean.”

“You’re not allowed?” “Yeah, that sounds bad. I mean, it’s true, I am not allowed to go out at night. The other night I did anyway, but it turned into this whole thing, and it’s not worth the annoyance, honestly.” “Saving my ass is an annoyance, is it?” Hadriel said. “And here I thought I was the light of your world.”

He looked down on my face, stroking my chin. “That is a horrible story, and now I feel bad about life, and I hope you never take to writing romance novels.” I blurted out a laugh, propelling tiny droplets of spit onto his face. “Yes, spitting in my face about sums up the ending of that story.” He wiped his face, and I laughed harder.

He wore a black button-up shirt with the arms buttoned tightly at the wrists and around the neck. His black slacks were pleated beneath the black belt. His black shoes had been polished up to a mirror shine, and his bleach-blond hair in a bowl cut just confused me. He angled his body so that he was directly facing me now, waiting for me to draw near. As I did, he sidestepped so that he was standing directly in my way. “What are you doing out here, wandering the grounds?” he asked in a highish voice with a strange lilt. “Looking for you, actually. I was hoping for some fashion advice. My goal is to confuse everyone while also making them pity me. This is my start…” I flowed my hand down my front. “And I can only assume you’ll be my finish. Nice pleats.”

Dolion continued, “And when the time inevitably comes for you to succumb to the erotic magic circling you, you will moan with pleasure like a whore.” I laughed. “You had me, and then you lost me. Moan with pleasure like a whore? Do you honestly think sex workers feel any sort of pleasure from deadbeat Johns rutting at them like some pig? No, they are bored as fuck and just waiting for him to finish. Probably like all the people you bang. Get your insults straight, you slack-jawed cumgoblin.

“Finley.” Hadriel pushed out through the center of the crowd. He wore green lipstick and a bright pink wig that bobbed with each step. A little maid’s dress partially covered his body, but the hem only reached to his upper thighs, and his dick waggled out of the bottom. He clearly was not wearing underwear. “What…” I wasn’t sure what to say. “Yeah, this…” He waved it away as he got closer. “That fucker Cecil heard that I wanted a proper maid’s outfit, just in case…you know…we have to travel. But he chose to make me one for a party instead. He is getting on my last nerve. Anyway, first, I am steaming that I have to be here after taking that draught. Do you know how fucking terrible it is getting it on with…creatures? It’s fucking terrible. This is an all-time low for me, Finley, and it is all your fault. I’m going to have nightmares. Some of them have, like…knobby dicks! But I need to play along with the demons, so I think—I’ll just stick it in a vagina, right? It’s wet and warm and I’ll just look at a stacked guy across the way to keep it up.”

“It’s not likely Dolion will make you all party like this again. The demon king mentioned fake orgasms and flaccid penises.” Hadriel aggressively pointed down at his dick. “It’ll probably never get hard again out of fear. Forget blowjobs. Fucking teeth, Finley!”

“Why don’t I suck you to get you hard, and you can take me on this table? I won’t tell anyone.” “First, you’d tell everyone. Remember when you pegged Bronson, and he shat all over? The whole castle knows. He’s a laughingstock. Second, get your fucking mouth away from my dick. Third, I don’t see what the big whoop of pleasuring a woman is. A reach-around is a reach-around. Instead of tugging, you just wiggle your fingers.” He glanced at the demon, who was currently stroking his cock in aggravation. “I don’t see you taking notes. She just said you were shit at fucking. Don’t you want to take notes from someone who doesn’t like girls but is still better at fucking them than you are?

The demon had stayed where he was, eyeing me. He pointed at the table. “Bend over. I’ll fuck you,” he said. “I hear you’re not very good at it.”

The demon king thinks he’s got us all figured out. Including the master. You need to make sure you give him some surprises. Now, let’s talk about the end game and find a way to it. There’s a reason they won’t let me play chess anymore, and it isn’t because I got drunk that one time and tried to shove a queen up Cecil’s ass. He was cheating, though. He deserved it. No, the reason no one will play with me is because I am excellent at it. It was my mom’s favorite game, she taught me well, and I’ve been a die-hard ever since. I’m good at strategy. I’m also incredibly good at puzzles, as you know. So hit me. What is your plan?”

With a finger in the air at Dolion, I said, “Give me a minute to send him away.” “Of course,” he said, struggling for composure and attempting to look like he wasn’t. “Take half the time you need.” “Don’t try to be clever. It just makes people feel sorry for you.”