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Regret—such an odd word, he thought. It had no viable meaning for him, and he had no use for it. He had done what needed to be done at the time.
He had wondered at first why they’d sought revenge. The Milesian woman’s action called on his action: she had killed his favorite brother; thus, he’d killed her.
It was over. Done—as the humans said: an eye for an eye … a life for a life.
Now what he needed to concentrate on were his goals. He would design a dimension of his own. He was equipped with the power and the magic to do so. He had watched the Dark King play at just such a thing, and he had memorized the spell and the knack of it. Now, he would make use of what he had learned. His father—his oh, so great Dark King father—had never meant for him to have the skill to accomplish what few others (save the Seelie Royals) knew how to do. He would have to draw on a living dimension, which would of course die—as would all its inhabitants—when he usurped what he needed. No matter.
He would bring his redheaded Seelie princess to his new dimension and make her his consort, and together they would free his Dark Fae brothers and the Dark Fae creatures, also in some macabre way his brethren, and rule the earth as it needed to be ruled.
She would help him in this endeavor because in the end, by any means available to him, he would make her worship him as her mate!
For now, however, he had to attend to his immediate needs, and thinking about the beautiful Seelie princess had made him hot. He looked at the human woman spread out so lusciously across his hotel bed. She had served to assuage his needs. She was of course ruined. She would never be satisfied by any one male. She would never get enough sex, and in the end, she would die.
He spoke softly to her. “You want to please me, pretty—don’t you?” He moved to her and fondled her plump breasts, teased a pink nipple, bent his head, and licked it as she groaned. He came up to whisper as he bent her backwards once more, “That’s right … you want to take care of your prince …”
“Yes … anything you want …” She pursed her lips for his kiss.
He looked at her and thought, Lovely. When he was done with her, the kind thing would be to kill her. But for now, he wasn’t done. He moved into a sitting position, pressed up against the cushioned headboard, and said softly, “Get on it … kiss it, lick it, suck on it again …” He watched her scramble eagerly to do his bidding. He closed his eyes as her mouth worked his dick and he held her head, making her glide up and down its length faster and faster still.
All at once, he growled hungrily, pushed her onto her back, and rammed into her. He worked her furiously, roughly, assuaging his lust, but he thought of the pretty redheaded Seelie princess, which brought him to a resounding climax.
He wasn’t done though; he had just shot off his load, but he was a Fae, ready almost at once to give it another go. He picked her up, set her on her hands and knees but this time on the floor, and rammed into her butt.
His thoughts were, I am Pestale, the Dark Prince, and I shall have everything I want!
~ Three ~
PROVING HERSELF TO Chancemont was going to be so much harder than she had at first anticipated.
Princess Royce stood with her feet apart and a hand on her denim-covered hip. The temperature in Dravo was warm, so she removed her denim jacket and slung it over one shoulder. She looked around, fascinated by the ongoing busy scene. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, and it was completely captivating.
This was the world of the Milesians.
She had heard all the tales about them, none of them any good. The Seelie Fae still resented the Milesians and weren’t pleased about the Treaty.
She also knew they were immortals; some in Faery said it was by accident, others said it had been by design. She rather thought, as she looked around, it had been a combination of both.
Their treaty with the Milesians, who had been their enemies in the war where they fought to keep the occupied land now known as Ireland and Scotland, had been in effect and respected by both parties for thousands of years.
After the Treaty, the Milesians found they could no longer live amongst mortals and had created Dravo … and this world was absolutely nothing like what she had expected.
Rolling green hills outlined the sky in the distance. Past the town she could see farmland. She did a turn in place and realized she stood at the curbing of a small and charming park in the town square.
People of all ages milled about laughing and seemingly ordinary as they went about their business, but what was not ordinary was the fact that some groups of young and old wore clothing of modern times, while others were dressed in fashions of bygone eras. What was not ordinary was the fact that clippity clopping horse-drawn carriages occupied the same hard gravel roads as automobiles.
Two eras stood out as dominant—medieval and modern—and yet they cohabited in peace and harmony.
Houses and shops lined the paved streets of the town, and people were clothed in anything and everything.
She had opened and closed her mouth more than once as she contemplated the scene when a hardy laugh and a finger under her chin made her turn sideways and look up into a handsome young prince’s face.
“Red! What are you doing here?” exclaimed Trevor with a wide grin.
“The queen …” she answered on a heavy sigh.
“The queen?” He frowned. “Never say you have to do some kind of penance in Dravo? That doesn’t make any sense.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Penance, yes, but not in Dravo. I have been assigned to you and the Milesian Chancemont on this quest of yours to find Dark Prince Pestale.”
