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But even when the thought crosses my mind, I feel sick.
“This is a joke. This whole fucking thing.” But this time, I’m talking to myself. I don’t want them to hear, I just need to say the words aloud.
I just can’t stand the idea of us all going back to our old lives so much that it scares me. Which makes no sense.Isn’t that all I've wanted since this mess started?
My heart pounds at the thought of my regular life; the life where my dad and my grandmother are back in poverty with nothing to eat and a house smaller than a royal fae’s bed chamber.Has my grandmother been thrown out of the palace for the second time in her life?
A lump forms in my throat. Knowing how fae royalty operates, probably. She and my sickly father have no doubt been thrown out on their asses and not even moved back into our old home. Their stuff everywhere. No way to earn money for food.
Will they starve if I don’t get back?My eyes sting.Probably.
I kick the iron bars again, enjoying the pain in my foot. I deserve it for putting my family through all of this turmoil. They might’ve had a chance to stay if I’d treated the fae princes better, if I considered their feelings and didn’t outright reject all four of them. If I hadn’t thrown a tantrum and ran back to the hovel, we'd called home.
The cart comes to a stop, and I ready myself, my troubling thoughts disappearing in an instant, replaced by more calculating thoughts. No matter what it costs me, I’m escaping this time because I’ve figured out their pattern. They always pull far off the road, stop, and remove the cover over the iron bars that make up the cart, unlock my bindings, and let me out. Then, they give me a chance to relieve myself, while guarded closely by the woman, and I’m given food before being thrown back into the cart.
This time, I’m not scared and confused. This time, I know exactly how many of the fuckers there are and how they operate. I’ll distract them and run.
But instead of the usual bawdy conversations and slow amble to the back of the cart, they’re quiet. I peer through the cracks and see a large structure. It might be a house, but it looks older and rougher than my family home with decaying wood and broken windows. And it’s surrounded by forest. The wild kind of forest that seems undisturbed by people.
Where have they taken me?
My breathing comes out faster, and my hands begin to tremble. I listen for any voices or sounds. It’s eerily quiet now that the wheels have stopped moving. My muscles tense, and I feel wound up and ready to pounce. This will be hard with the cuffs on, but not impossible. These criminals are going to see that I’m not helpless.
My stomach is in knots. Someone starts to unload the front of the cart.I guess we’ve reached our destination.
I have no idea what’s coming next.
TWO
Sulien
Cassia is in my bed, and I’m trying so damn hard to control myself, to make this good for her. To ignore the other men, and the way the sight of them touching her, turns me on. But the ache inside of me is growing. The ache that demands I slide into her, make her scream my name, and fill her with my cum, claiming her as my own once and for all.
I almost come when she puts her hand in my pants and caresses my cock. She strokes me with precision, and the feeling of her small hand wrapped around my sensitive erection is enough to send my head spinning. I close my eyes and groan, fighting for control. I’ve never felt like this before. No one hasevermade me feel this good, this content, before.
When I slip down between her thighs, with the other men taking their positions, my heartbeat triples. I reach out and start to stroke her, feeling her wet, soft pussy. I have to bite my cheek until I taste blood to stop from coming from the incredible sensation of touching her.
She gives me a look that heats my blood. A shudder rolls through me and I lower my head to taste–.
The dream falls away, and I awaken. The reality of my empty bed leaves a hollow ache in my chest. My heart’s still pounding, and my sheets are wet with my sweat. I put my hand on my chest, and it’s slick. My fucking dick is rock solid.
Hell. Oh, hell. Cassia was just about to…
“Fuck, again?” I slam my fists down on my bed. I’ve dreamed about her every night for the past three nights that she’s been gone. They’ve all been vivid dreams. Dreams that felt like they were really happening. Her smooth skin, her tight ass, and her wet pussy all so real that I feel like I’m losing my mind.
I groan and sit on the edge of the bed, feeling miserable both from reality hitting me so hard, and the headache blossoming at the back of my head as I reinforce the boundary around our lands to keep the damn iron demons out. The urge to break something builds inside of me.
These dreams are torture. I don’t want her in my mind. I want her in my arms and in my bed. I want to know she’s safe. She’s doing all kinds of nasty, delicious things to me in my dreams, but they’re not real.
The reality is that I have no idea if she even likes me. She agreed to marry me because of our arrangement, nothing more. And not knowing if she’ll want to do any of those when she gets back, is a horrible torture, it ties my stomach into knots. Not because I’ll require her to share my bed as I gave her my word that she wouldn’t have to, and I am a man of my word but more so because my dreams feel… wrong when I don’t know how she feels about me. When I don’t even know if she’s safe.
I should be focused on rescuing her. My dreams should be going over the many ways I could find her. Some loophole I hadn’t yet thought about.Notwalking me through the steps to seduce a woman who doesn’t want me.
Why do my dreams always have a way of betraying me?I fucking hate dreaming.
All my life, my dad has popped into my dreams. Like most powerful fae, he has the ability to dream share. And like many fae, he abuses his powers. It’s always bothered me that he could enter my most private dreams, and there was nothing I could do about it.
He only stopped recently, when he retired, probably because he found better things to do with his time.
