A Dream of Fate & Flesh (Courts of Malice #2)

14. The Damned Prince of Pleasure

fourteen

The Damned Prince of Pleasure

Alessia

T he air is thick with anticipation—the promise of death.

Beneath me, the ground feels unsteady, as if it could give way at any moment. The fear, the anxiety, and the overwhelming ruse of adrenaline mix into a torrent inside me, threatening to consume me. Around me, fae continue to scream, freezing in terror as Rainer's fearcaller takes hold again.

“Rainer,” I whisper, his name sticking in my throat.

It’s too late.

This is my fault.

I drop beside the Umbra Prince.

“Rainer,” I whisper and grip his shoulder. I need him to come back to me.

His body tenses under my touch. He growls again, and his swallowing speeds up, becoming more pronounced.

“You have to stop. You’re going to kill him.” I shake him gently, but it does nothing.

“You’re better than this, my rose,” I tell him, calling him by the nickname he often saves for me, trying anything to get through to him .

My panic becomes sharper, more acute, when Rainer doesn’t respond to me.

Desperately, I search the room, pleading for help. No one seems to notice us. Instead, everyone battles their hallucinations, stuck in various states of personal terror. Sennah included.

A peculiar sensation of warmth spreads throughout my chest when it registers that I’m the only one not affected by his magic. I know he can use his power on me—he has done so before—so he somehow has the precise control to target the entire room while sparing me. It reflects his strength and shouldn’t comfort me, but it does.

Until I realize I have a new and more significant fear, and I’m actively living it.

Eoin makes a gurgling noise, his wide eyes filled with panic as he tries to speak. Ripping Rainer off him isn’t an option. Not only do I not possess the strength to do so, but I fear the fangs would cause irreparable damage.

“Rainer, please ,” I choke out. “Come back to me.”

He stills but doesn’t release Eoin. When he continues drinking, I crouch closer until my face is beside his as he drinks. I try not to scrunch my nose at the metallic stench.

“You once inspired me to be the girl who fights. Well, Rainer, I’m fighting right here and right now. For you. For us .”

Rainer pulls free from Eoin’s throat with a pop and lifts his head to meet my gaze. His irises are nearly black, and his face is stained with his and Eoin’s blood. There’s a raw, violent beauty in the moment as we stare at one another. It’s the first time I’ve seen the very monster he’s tried so hard to hide from me.

And it doesn’ t scare me.

Without warning, he grips me by the back of the neck and pulls me to him. He buries his face against my throat, inhaling deeply, as he shifts me onto my back and kneels over me.

“Rainer,” I say calmly.

A sharpness pierces my neck, and I gasp, tears welling in my eyes.

A fire blazes through the area of contact where Rainer’s mouth meets my skin. The heat starts to fade, leaving behind a gentle tingling. Gradually, the feeling intensifies, evolving into a surprising exhilaration. My body softens, my muscles loosening as I surrender to the thrill.

The tantalizing pleasure sinks deeper, settling into the very core of my being. As he slurps from my vein, my eyes flutter shut, and a groan escapes me.

“I’m not afraid,” I whisper so only Rainer can hear. I grip his thick, dark hair in my fists, locking him in place. “Take me, Rainer. Take all of me.”

I wriggle beneath him, craving more pleasure. I want all of him. I yearn for his hands to caress me, to explore the depths of my being.

My hand gently strokes his face, reveling in the warmth of his skin against my palm. He pulls free, nuzzling into my touch. A warm sensation crawls down my throat as blood drips from my wound. Using his tongue, Rainer follows the trail, lapping it up.

My skin pebbles, and I tilt my head back, giving him access should he want more. My head is dizzy; my body is limp with pleasure.

Rainer’s touch softens, and he makes a choking sound.

“Alessia,” he whispers hoarsely .

Lifting my head carefully, I give him a weak smile.

“Mo róisín,” he whispers. He blinks, his irises flickering. They slowly lighten back to pale blue. His eyes widen, and his lip trembles as if he’s realized what he’s done. “I hurt you.” His voice cracks, and he grasps his hair, tugging at the roots. “I hurt you.”

I open my mouth to tell him that it didn’t hurt—that it was glorious, sensual, and intimate—but instead of speaking, I bring his lips to mine. The kiss is filled with longing and need, and I’m too grateful for his presence even to consider pushing him away again. His taste is a mixture of saltiness, copper tang, and the sweetness of dreams.

Although the idea of a bloody kiss should repulse me, it doesn’t.

Using the remaining dredges of my energy, I pull away and search his face. I’m relieved to see his canines retracted. All the color has drained from his face, and he appears haunted—like a ghost of himself.

“I messed up,” Rainer’s voice cracks. “I ruined everything. So—tired…” Rainer slumps against me. Though he had a heaping of faerie blood and a dash of human blood, it was not enough to counteract the amount of fearcaller magic he just used.

There’s always a price.

From beside us, Eoin chuckles. Gently, I grip Rainer’s wrist to check his pulse. It’s beating steadily. I shake his shoulders, trying to get him to wake up.

“Rainer, come on, we gotta get out of here,” I whisper.

His eyes are shut, and his dark eyelashes are a harsh contrast against his skin. He whimpers in his sleep, fingers twitching. He once mentioned the price of his fearcaller magic being nightmares. Is this the cost he must pay for such a large show of power? Sleeping it off, experiencing nightmares?

Eoin presses himself up, one hand clutching his neck. The bite marks there grow smaller as they close. He could’ve used that magic at any time to stifle Rainer’s emotions and disarm him, but instead, he instigated it.

“You,” I growl at him.

Gently, I rest Rainer’s head on the ground. I attempt to stand, but my legs wobble, threatening to give out. My head spins, and I’m forced to my knees.

The fae around us begin to snap out of Rainer’s influence. A chorus of gasps goes up as murmurs spread through the crowd like wildfire. Like a stampede, fae start to charge for the exits.

Eoin’s guards lunge for me, but before they can reach me, Eoin puts a hand up to halt them.

“You’re bleeding, Alessia,” he says, eyes wide and mouth gaping. “He really bit you. You .”

He reaches for me, gently touching my neck. I let him—only to address the injury.

The warmth of his magic caresses my neck, knitting the minor wounds back together. He winces, gritting his teeth in response to the assumed pain. Why does he seem to be in so much pain? It didn’t hurt at all.

Undoubtedly, Eoin is being dramatic, putting on a show to play the victim. It makes my blood boil.

Angrily, I swat his hand away. “That’s enough,” I hiss at him.

Rainer moans, his eyes fluttering open. I hurry to his side just as my ears pop with pressure. Everything goes quiet. The air ripples and warps around us, and a faerie materializes out of thin air, like a mirage stepping out of the ethereal fabric of reality.

The female is tall, and a shrewd brilliance flickers in her dark eyes as if carrying the weight of centuries’ worth of wisdom. As she walks, the sound of her purposeful footsteps echoes with determination. The faint scent of herbs and parchment lingers in the air around her. The energy emanating from her hums with ancient power, sending tingles down my spine.

Her dress is metallic in color, changing shades as she walks and the light hits it from different angles.

I glance around the room to gauge reactions, only to discover that the remaining folk are frozen like statues, paused in action. It’s as if time has come to a standstill.

The ancient faerie’s heels clack on the floor as she steps forward, the sound reverberating down to my bones, like an ominous warning. My instinct is to recoil and shrivel into myself, but it’s no use. Her gaze is locked onto me, and a storm of brewed anger—a current of sharp discernment and a touch of disdain—courses through it.

She reaches up, squeezing my chin. Her grip is much stronger than I expected, her long, sharp nails biting my skin.

“ You , the catalyst for chaos within my serene realm. What mischief have you sown now?” She releases me, tapping my cheek with a palpable condescension. Her eyes drag down my body. “You are not what I expected.” She tuts. “Rather unremarkable, you appear.”

A cold chill caresses my skin, and I don’t have to guess hard to figure out who she is.

The Faerie Queen.

The power roiling from her essence is undeniable.

Her head turns like a wise owl’s, taking in the frozen scene. I try to imagine what she’s seeing: Eoin’s battered face. The healing holes in his neck. Rainer’s disheveled appearance and bruised knuckles, blood smearing his mouth.

They, like the crowd, are unmoving. Unblinking. Unbreathing. Only the queen and I move freely.

The grandiosity of her power is stunning, and I feel like a deer in the presence of a wolf.

The queen narrows her eyes at me, scrutinizing me. “Disarray stains your countenance, dear.”

I stare, unsure of what she means. With a sigh, she delicately gestures to her face. Shame flares to life as my fingers touch my lips—swollen with Rainer’s kisses, stained with blood.

The queen flicks her wrist, and Rainer and Eoin reanimate, thawing as if they were never frozen. They talk over one another, unaware of the new presence before us.

“Children of the courts!” The Faerie Queen’s fury rolls through the room like a thunderstorm, thick and menacing.

The conversations halt.

Rainer climbs to his feet, and Eoin follows suit. Sennah steps out from behind the throne with Ezamae at her side. All four wear mixed expressions of wariness and shock.

“The windwhisperer delivered word of a certain… animosity between your courts.” She stares between the Terra and Umbra prince.

“Never trust the pretty faces,” Sennah says, side-eyeing Ezamae. She takes a sip of the wine she must’ve procured during the scuffle, wholly unfazed by the fact her brother almost died and the queen of all the courts is here chastising us. “Where is Hamraaz, anyway?”

Ezamae frowns at her. “My brother is at court,” he hisses. He straightens up, glancing toward the queen with a lifeless expression.

“Queen’s pet,” Sennah spits at him like a slur.

“ Quiet ,” the queen says. She sucks in a deep breath and breaks out into a coughing fit. The remaining faeries in the room reanimate with each violent cough, only to become still once more when the queen catches her breath as if her hold is weakening, her magic losing its edge.

I gaze worriedly at Rainer, but he’s studying the queen intently, his stoic mask in place.

“I do not make it a habit to interfere with court affairs as mundane as”—she waves a hand toward me—“this. Return the girl to Dovenak, dead or alive, as punishment for disrupting my realm.”

Dead or alive?

Me?

I swallow thickly, my eyes darting around. Taking a step back, I try to prepare myself for whatever she’s planning.

The queen coughs into the back of her hand, and I notice it’s trembling. Not with fear, but with something else… illness? “Return the human or face the wrath of both matriarchs. I will not ask again.” She glares at Eoin. “Refusal to do so is forfeiture of the Terra throne.”

She steps up to Rainer, grabbing his arm with her claw-like hand. My heart shatters. He doesn’t fight her. He only casts me a remorseful glance in my direction, his icy eyes shimmering with something unspoken before he averts his gaze .

“For your ill-will against another court and your provocation of the fellow realm, you are stripped of your crown and title. Your punishment will be decided before the elders.”

“No!” I reach for Rainer, Faerie Queen be damned, but in a poof of glimmering, distorted air, the two disappear.

I yell, whirling around in panic, searching for Rainer. The string music resumes and the folk file in backwards, and begin dancing again as if nothing was ever amiss—as if they had never scrambled to exit just a moment ago.

The entire party flares back to life as if the last twenty minutes or so of events never happened.

“I supposed the Umbra Court will be mine to take after all.” Eoin smirks, adjusting his jacket.

“Where’d she take him?” I ask, panic rising in my throat. I surge toward Eoin, slamming my fists into his chest. He stumbles back with an oomph . “Where!?”

Eoin shrugs, clearly unbothered.

My hands itch to squeeze his throat, to claw his face. I snarl at him, tempted to unleash my rage, but it won’t do any good. I—a measly human—cannot attack a prince in his court, especially not after what happened to Rainer. I’m aware that Sennah and Ezamae are watching us from a few paces away.

The queen’s words crawl down my spine, leaving a frigid trail.

Eoin will send me back to Dovenak in a heartbeat to save his throne. Sennah would, too. I mean nothing to them compared to their court.

“ Run .” The indecipherable voice echoes around me, barely more than a whisper. “ Leave. Now! ”

Whirling around, I catch a glimpse of a dark shadow lingering nearby. It dissipates as my eyes land on it. It's the least of my concerns right now as Eoin reaches for me.

“You will get what’s coming to you one day, Eoin,” I spit at the Terra Prince.

His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t look as smug or pleased as I expected.

I slowly back away from the royals. The crowd of faeries around us continues to dance and carry on, clearly having forgotten the events that occurred moments ago. Did the queen do something to make them forget?

Sennah strides to her brother. Passion-fueled words spill from her mouth as she addresses him. With them distracted, I use the opportunity to slip away. I search the crowd for Ken, but I don’t see him.

Scurrying to the ballroom entrance, I sneak into the hallway and hurriedly round the corner. I almost slam into someone, but they grab my shoulders to steady me.

“Alessia.”

“Ezamae,” I whisper. I don’t have the energy for verbal, manipulative sparring. I need to get out of here and find a way to find Rainer before we’re both sent to our deaths.

The pixies words flit through my mind: Don’t trust the prince.

They must’ve meant Eoin. Did they know his plan?

Or do they mean Ezamae?

Out of time, I take a gamble. “You’re the one who betrayed Rainer by feeding secrets to the queen?”

He flinches, eyes narrowing. “I would never willingly feed Queen Yvanthia information. I much prefer keeping secrets for myself.”

“Then what did Sennah mean—calling you the queen’s pet?”

“Not me. My brother, Hamraaz.”

Ezamae’s eyes flick over my shoulder, and I follow his line of sight to see a red-faced, tight-lipped Eoin storming my way.

“You can teleport,” I say quickly, not caring about anything other than getting out of here.

“Windwalk,” he corrects.

“I don’t care what it’s called.” My first instinct is to ask politely, to beg. Instead, I harness my inner fae and demand: “You can get me out of here. Let’s go. Now.”

“Okay,” he says, much to my surprise. His moonlight eyes shine with sincerity.

“Alessia!” Eoin yells, his voice hard. “Wait.”

Glancing back into the ballroom one last time in search of Ken, I come up short. I hope he realizes what’s happened. The queen’s magic likely froze him in time, too. I have no time to stay put and look for him. It’s too risky.

A pixie buzzes past me. “Hey!” I snag its attention. “Find Ken—the bear shifter from Umbra Court. Tell him the queen took Rainer.”

The pixie nods and shoots away. I turn to Ezamae and grab his outstretched hand. “Let’s go.”

Heat sizzles through my veins, and everything becomes light and fuzzy, like when I stepped over the Gleam. My stomach churns, and my head swims with zips of light and color. My senses distort and my body grows light, as if underwater.

A few seconds pass before I land on solid ground with a lurch. My vision goes black briefly, and I struggle to stay upright. Ezamae’s quiet breaths fill the air beside me as he holds me upright .

“You still with me, blondie?” Ezamae whispers. His fingers skim my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I slap his hand away.

He chuckles. “Welcome to Aer Court.”

I’m not much for worship or prayer, but I find myself silently begging the Gods—the Mother—whoever is listening to protect me. Spare me having made an enormous mistake by running off with the damned Prince of Pleasure.