How to Keep a Fae (Coveted Fae #1)

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

August

T he portal room is quiet and empty. I feel like there should be a fanfare of trumpets… or something to at least mark our return.

Two guards stand at the closed door that leads out. They don’t so much as blink, remaining stoic in their duty.

“You want to see her, I presume,” my father says. He dismounts his horse, pulling it around as I likewise dismount.

We are both boxed inside the horses. I frown.

“Yes.”

He nods.

I see no more than a blur of movement between us before a low grunt escapes me.

My hand lowers to the point of pain in my right abdomen and comes away covered in blood.

“Did you just stab me?” There is an incredulous note to my voice.

He smiles and places his hand on my shoulder. “Yes. ”

Well, then.

He turns and leads his horse over to the guards and orders, “Open the door.”

They do.

I follow after him.

He fucking stabbed me… “You fucking stabbed me,” I mutter the moment we pass the guards.

He arches a brow. “It is not life-threatening. You have a reason to see her now. Report to Cecil. It will look better if he is the one who takes you to her.”

I have been away for months without receiving a single scratch. Only this morning, I fought raiders and walked away with no more than the odd bruise. My father’s methods of helping me are questionable, to say the least.

A chuckle bubbles up that quickly shifts to a grunt—he got me good. I don’t even care as long as it gets me time with Adaline.

We hand over our horses to the stable master.

Outside the corridor leads two directions, one down to the warriors hall, one up to the where the highest ranking imperials and the king reside.

The words are burning on my tongue. He’s about to walk away.

“How do you force a heat?”

He pauses, fixes me with a look, and leans in to whisper in my ear.

My eyes widen.

Then, without so much as a goodbye, my father walks away.

I watch him go, shoving his words down, burying them. This isn’t the time.

I’m bleeding. I’m back—the solid stones of Sanctum above and below .

Neither of those things feels real.

The warriors are finishing a training session when I enter the practice pit.

The first thing Jayga does when he sees me is storm over and punch me in the face.

“Uff!”

And just like that, everything feels right. Everything feels real.

“Asshole,” he growls, voice low, chest heaving like he is thinking of punching me again. “You fucking left her with me. Me! I don’t have a fucking clue how to handle it.”

“Is she alright?” Panic replaces the euphoria of returning.

“No. She fucking missed you. So no, she’s not alright. It’s been rough.” He sucks in another deep breath. “Fuck, I’m glad to see your sorry ass.” He hugs me and thumps my back—I grunt, and he takes a step back, eyes narrowing on the blood trickling from the stab wound down my leg.

“Raiders,” I say. “Happened just before we returned.”

The other warriors gather around. Heavy-handed bastards, the lot of them. By the time they have finished thumping my shoulders and back, the wound has opened, and the blood is leaking down my leg.

Cecil wades through them and motions to me. “Follow me, warrior. The rest of you are dismissed for the evening.”

I know what that means for them. They will be drinking beer in the warrior hall.

I know what it means for me as I am led through familiar passages to the feeder house where Adaline will be found.

Cecil leans in to speak to the house mistress. Denna bestows me a haughty glare, muttering about ‘interruptions to the peace,’ before she nods and takes me to Adaline’s doorway.

Here, the sour-faced house mistress stops and stares up at me. She is a tiny fae, and I tower over her, but her stare leaves me deeply uncomfortable.

I’m nervous and sweating; the pain where my father stabbed me is beginning to burn like a bastard.

“Go gentle with your feeder,” she finally says, but does not move nor avert her intense stare. I get the impression she wants to say more, but suddenly, and without calling Adaline to the door, she turns and strides away.

I blink a few times before I turn to stare at the simple cloth covering between me and the woman I love. A deluge of thoughts and feelings slams around my mind like a herd of drunk elephants.

What my father said…

What Jayga said…

What I did with the stone…

Finally, what the house mistress said with something close to compassion in her eyes.

Pushing the covering aside, I step into Adaline’s nesting chamber.

Adaline

I’m reading a book or trying to. I don’t think I’ve read a book properly since the day August left.

Warriors go on quests. It is part of life within Sanctum. But I miss him. I’ve missed him every day. So many days that merge into a long indeterminate line.

Some days are better.

And some days are worse.

Most are worse.

When I’m not thinking about August, or seeking oblivion in Jayga’s arms, I think about my lost father and my indifferent mother.

I wish I could go back to hating her, or at least the indifference I pretended to return. But that time has passed. Questions linger. I want answers, but I’m also afraid to ask.

Why didn’t she tell me they were mated?

I saw August last night in my dreams. He was riding a horse through a forest. A blood-curdling cry erupted from either side of the path. A day later, I can still taste the fear of that sound. It felt so real, the forest scents, the warm air, the way his hair was a little longer than when I last saw it, curling around the collar of his armor. His sword slashed, blood arced, and his horse went down. I woke up, my nightgown clinging to my sweat-slick chest, my heart beating a wild tattoo.

Only a dream, I tell myself. It was only a dream.

But today is not one of the better days. Today, he is on my mind.

I hear footsteps outside the curtain. It has been mostly quiet, with the rest of the feeders heading for the day room. Dede tried her best to coax me from my nest. I wasn’t in the mood. All I want is to lay here, pretend to read my book, and wallow in memories of how it felt when August touched me.

I frown.

Did the footsteps stop, or did I simply not notice when they passed on?

The hairs at the back of my neck rise. I swallow. My heart rate elevates the way it does when I sense injury… when I am preparing to feed.

My prized naughty book drops carelessly to the floor. I launch myself out of my nest just as the curtain is thrust aside, and August steps in.

We crash together. His arms circle me, and he lifts me clear of the floor .

“August, August, August!” I pepper kisses over his cheeks, throat; anywhere I can reach, my fingers tangling in his hair, finding it longer… long enough to kiss the collar of his armor.

My head pops up. I’m breathing heavily but still don’t feel like I’m getting enough air. His pretty amber eyes carry pain as they search mine.

“You are injured.”

“It’s nothing?—”

“Do not nothing me, warrior .”

He shuts up and smiles, broad, making my heart skip a beat as I see his fangs, thinking about how they will feel when they pierce my throat. Goddess weep, he is so handsome, looking at him hurts.

“We were attacked this morning. But our mission was over, and my fa—the imperial called a portal.”

My mind skips over his slight pause and change of tact. He needs to feed. I tilt my head, offering him my vein, desperate for the sharp sting that will be followed by bliss… desperate for what comes after. Yesterday and tomorrow cannot touch my now. I just need him.

His head lowers, and his lips brush against my skin, teasing me—teasing us both. He groans, and his teeth sink in.

The sting is fleeting. I’m caught up in the hot surge of lust that sweeps through me as he drinks greedily of my blood. My fingers tighten in his hair, holding me to my throat. There is no higher purpose than to feed him and heal him like this.

His head lifts, and his lips crash against mine.

I taste my blood and madness in the kiss as he crushes me to him and holds me through the storm.

August

I carry her to her nest, kicking off my boots, my lips still locked upon hers. Her blood feels like it has gained power since I left. That small taste heals me and sends a heady wave of vitality crashing through me.

Maybe that is just her, my love, her love, and the being together again after so long.

I breathe in her sweet, familiar scent as I come down over her in the nest. She pushes me onto my back and moves to straddle. The nest feels… fuller. “Are there more cushions?—”

“Off,” she says. “All of it off.”

I grin, fumbling with the buckles on my armor. The moment it parts, she plants her small palms against my chest, caressing me all the way to my belt as I shuck out of the jacket and toss it to the floor.

“Hurry.”

Her impatience is infectious. I push her hands away from my buckle, undo it, and shuck my pants down… Awkwardly, for she has wrapped her hand around my cock and is stroking it while making the most adorable cooing sound of pure delight.

I’m naked. She is not… was not… but is now as she rips her pretty silk gown off and sends it whispering toward the floor on the other side of the room. Beneath, she is gloriously naked.

I groan and lean forward to cup her pretty tits, suck and nip on one side and then the other while she grinds her wet pussy all over my cock. By the time I come up for air, they are littered with little love bites, and my cock drips with her slick.

With a firm hand to my chest, she pushes me onto my back. Slim thighs stretched wide, she lines up my cock, and sinks onto me with a sigh.

Gods! Her hot, silken embrace wrapping around my length—pure bliss .

She rides me with a sensual grace. Hips gyrating with every rise and fall, her elegant neck arched, eyes hooded as she watches me.

I want this to last, to hold back the seed filling my balls. But I’m unraveling for her. My hands glide from her trim waist up to cup her tits, rolling her nipples how she likes, watching her jaw turn slack and a flush stains her cheeks.

So very pretty, so sweet, so fucking hot, riding me, taking her pleasure on her terms. Taking me how she wants.

“Are you close?”

“Yes,” she says. “So close.”

I slide my hand back down, my thumb pressing against her fat, slick clit.

“Oh, oh, oh!”

Her hot inner walls clamp down over my length. My balls rise, my breath catches, and hot cum floods her cunt. I circle an arm around her waist, grinding her down, feeling another flood of seed bath the entrance to her womb.

She falls against me, nipping against my sweaty chest as we lay entwined, my cock still pulsing deep inside her.

I purr. My hands become restless, wanting to touch her, feel her soft skin under my rough palm, her plump ass… I’m sated, blissed out, but I still roll, taking her under me, where I begin to thrust into her hot, clenching pussy.

“My August,” she breathes, her hand cupping my cheek as I stroke into her.

“Always yours. Only yours.”

We get lost in each other again and again during the night.

If I live forever, I will never have enough of her.