An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
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Beauty Sleep ISBN 9781419912443 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Beauty Sleep Copyright © 2008 Anna J. Evans Edited by Briana St. James. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication April 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
BEAUTY SLEEP
Anna J. Evans
Anna J. Evans
Prologue “Get away!” Calliope jerked awake on the cold stone floor of her cell, sending rodents scurrying back to their burrows in the walls. She wasn’t too late—thank the Goddess—but it was only a matter of time. Sooner or later, she would sleep too long. The rats would finish the food she’d laid out in the corner and come looking for something else to nibble. The guard who brought her meal every evening had joked that her toes looked tasty. As soon as he’d left, Calliope had torn the sleeves off her nightdress and wrapped them around her feet as makeshift shoes, hoping to keep her rodent cellmates from getting any ideas. Sure, she was colder without the sleeves, but the trade-off seemed worth it. “Cold arms, safe toes,” she muttered, wincing as she rolled to her side on the stones, feeling every bruise she’d acquired the past two weeks from bedding down on the floor in her flimsy gown. Of course, she hadn’t even bothered bemoaning the fact that she hadn’t been abducted from her home during the daylight hours when she would have been wearing shoes and warmer clothes. In the past twenty-three years, she’d learned not to hope for the best. Misfortune was as much a part of her life as her magic—as inseparable from her as her very skin. She’d learned to live with it. What she hadn’t learned to live with was the misfortune her magic so often caused to befall others. That’s why a part of her felt she deserved this fate—deserved to be thrown in the King of Outer Kartolia’s dungeon and left to rot while the king himself was away on business in Kingdom City. She’d been given one meal a day and the luxury of a cold shower the day before yesterday. Other than that one trip to the dungeon’s bathing room, however, she hadn’t been out of her 4
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cell for at least fourteen days according to the marks she’d begun making on what she thought was her fourth day of incarceration. But surely she was still better off than Rosamund, trapped in an enchanted castle, destined to sleep a hundred years away unless a prince managed to outsmart the castle’s defenses and free her with a kiss and a marriage proposal. Goddess, even the spell-modification Calliope had made in an attempt to fix the dire consequences of her first spell was horrid. A prince’s kiss? Just any old prince? And poor Rosamund will actually have to agree to marry him to gain her freedom. What were you thinking? “My only defense is that I was very young, and had read too many fairy stories,” Calliope spoke aloud to the stone walls, as if they were her accusers and not her own befuddled mind. “I was only seven years old when Mother made me gift at Rosamund’s sixteenth birthday celebration.” The stones were quiet, cold, condemning her mother now as well as her own sorry self. “But in her defense,” Calliope hastened to add, “she had no way of knowing my affliction until it was too late. There had never been another like me. Not in our entire family.” The “affliction”. That’s what her mother had called Calliope’s rotten luck with magic, but it had all too often seemed that she was talking about Calliope herself. The “affliction” forced them to move to the most unpopulated regions of Outer Kartolia to prevent Calliope from doing injury to other children when her magic was young and unschooled. The “affliction” drove Calliope’s father away, and caused her mother to die alone and friendless except for her only child…a talentless daughter, her own “affliction” to bear to the end of her days. “But you all know I haven’t tried to cast a single spell since Mother’s death.” Calliope walked slowly around the circular edge of the cell, dragging her fingers over
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stone, then bars, then stone again, imagining that she was talking to the animals on her farm. They would be a much kinder audience than the stern-faced stones. She had lived alone for nearly five years now, just she, the pigs, the goats, the geese and a cat or two she never let get too familiar. If she hadn’t started talking to the animals she tended as if they were people, she suspected she would have gone mad. Just as she suspected she would run mad alone in this dungeon if she didn’t create imaginary friends to keep her company in the cold and the dark. “You know Mother was the one who refused to give up on my magic. I never cared. It’s better to have no magic than magic cursed to yield such horrible fruit.” Calliope said the words sternly, but in her mind she heard the echo of her mother’s voice. Better flawed magic than no magic, Calliope La Fae. Without your magic, you’re hardly a fairy at all. You’re nothing better than a human. Nothing better than a human—truly a fate worse than death to Heliotrope La Fae. Calliope’s mother had once loved a human, given him the gift of her body, her magic, a child, and, finally, that spark within her the Fae could only give to one partner over the course of their long lifetimes. The spark gave Calliope’s father longevity and a charisma that made all who met him captivated by his presence. He was gone within a few months of receiving the gift, off to take the world by storm as an actor or a singer or some such nonsense. “And it was nonsense, but it was just one man’s nonsense, not every man’s nonsense. Surely there are human men who—” Human men who would steal your one chance at happiness, rip your heart from your immortal chest and stomp it to bits on those stones beneath your feet. “Stop it, Mother. We’re not immortal. We die just as humans—” In their eyes, we are immortal. Compared to their short lives, we are ancients, gods. Gods who they would curse to an eternity of loneliness so they might have one white-hot moment in the sun.
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This was absurd. She had to put a stop to this fancied conversation before the line between the real world and the imagined grew too blurry, before she let herself be swept away by the ghosts from her past. “You’re not really here. I can’t really hear you.” Calliope turned away from the voice, burying her face in her filthy hands. Lies. You always were a pretty little liar. “You are the liar!” She spun, took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. “We aren’t immortal. We die. You died. You aren’t really—” Silence, Calliope. If you can’t say something sensible, don’t say anything at all. “I am making sense.” You’re a fool. You’ve always been a fool, a curse upon my life. You and your affliction. “Mother…I…” Fool! The world seemed to tilt on its axis as Calliope struggled to draw breath. Goddess, she never should have started this game, never given in to the temptation to indulge her overactive imaginings. She always ended up frightening herself, even when she wasn’t locked in an awful place with the sounds of rodent claws on stone waking her from her sleep in the middle of every dark, horrible night. Her mother was dead. The animals on the farm loved her, needed her. She had to hold it together for a few more days. Then surely the king would hear of her plight. The King of Outer Kartolia was merciful, and kind. Calliope had never met him, but she’d seen the pictures of his coronation pasted to the billboards at market day in the village close to her farm. She and some of the other young girls had giggled together about how handsome he looked, wondering which of the many eligible princesses in the realm he would choose for his queen. Surely such a handsome, compassionate-looking king would understand she hadn’t meant to—
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Foolish. You were born foolish. My fault for cursing you with a human father. If you were pure fairy, you would never be deceived by a pretty face. “I’m not being deceived, Mother. He has done great things for our country, he has— Damn it, I am finished with this conversation. You aren’t real.” Calliope pulled back a foot and kicked the stone beside her—hard. “Ouch! Ouchouchouch,” she cursed, but the pain had the desired effect. Her mind cleared for a moment and she felt the spark of hope within her grow stronger. The king was kind and good and he would set her free, no matter that his younger brother had fallen victim to Rosamund’s enchanted castle. Prince Johann should never have ventured to the castle in the first place. Everyone knew it had a reputation for letting young nobles in but never spitting them back out. Johann wasn’t half the warrior his older brother was, he should have known better than to— Perhaps he hoped to free dear Rosamund with the power of love, all the true love in his young, princely heart. Calliope pressed her hands tightly to her ears, sinking down to the floor with a moan. She couldn’t fight it anymore. The voice in her head was too strong and she had been far too long without her herbs, the herbs that helped keep her mind a place of blessed silence. She had begged the king’s advisor and his guards to let her take the potion with her, but they’d refused, certain she was about some black magic to spell them into setting her free. And now she was alone, trapped in never-ending blackness, with the voice that had always been the most wicked of all those that spoke in her mind—the cruel imitation of the mother Calliope knew she had disappointed beyond all reason. You weren’t just a disappointment, you were an abomination. Still are and always will be. “Please…please…” Calliope ran a shaking hand across her face, smearing tears that she hadn’t even realized had begun to flow down her cheeks.
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Please what? How dare you beg for mercy when you’ve given up your best protection of your own free will? What kind of fairy are you? To beg and plead, to bend and scrape and toil at the earth like a creature that never knew the touch of magic upon your skin? “I can’t. I just can’t. Please don’t ask me to. It’s too dangerous, and I—” I’ll ask nothing of you. I learned to ask nothing, expect nothing. I’m content to watch you die, to see the last days of the Affliction. “I am not an affliction!” she screamed and her voice echoed wickedly out of the cell and out into the vast underground dungeon. She was shaking now, her hands drawn up into claws in front of her face, as if she could tear the horrible voice from the air, shred it with her mangled nails and toss it down to the stones. Then prove it. Free yourself. Cast, Calliope. Cast or die, that has always been the choice, whether you were clever enough to understand it or not. “No. I will not.” Cast, Calliope, cast and live. “Nuh-nuh-no.” Stuttering again. Now you sound like the fool you are. “I am not a fool. I have memorized every spell you ever taught me and a hundred more I learned on my own. My mind is not lame, my magic is.” What’s the difference? You’re still a waste. “Don’t push me, Mother, or I swear by the Goddess I’ll—” You’ll what? Turn me into a toad? I’m shaking, Calliope, trembling with fear. “Stop it!” You can’t even get yourself out of this dungeon, let alone accomplish transfiguration. “Leave me be, please I—” Begging again. Pathetic, absolutely— “By the Goddess of good and old, magic do as you are told. Liberate me from this sorry state. Liberate your daughter in her time of need, ease this heart and set me free.” 9
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A sudden wind swept through the cell, the first breeze she’d felt in the weeks she’d been confined, and Calliope knew the spell had been cast. What consequences it would bring, however… No matter how well spoken or intentioned, her magic had a way of doing as it would, not as it was told. Some spell…it…doesn’t even…of the ancients… But her mother’s voice was no longer so strong. Calliope easily pushed it away and rolled back to the ground with a weary sigh. She was exhausted, half starved and as miserable as she had been in those dark days before her mother’s death, when Heliotrope’s bitterness had been at its greatest, poisoning her as surely as the disease that ravaged her body. “Goddess, protect me,” Calliope murmured as she closed her eyes. She was too tired to set out something for the rats and unwilling to part with the last bit of bread she’d tucked into the pocket of her nightdress. She would just have to trust the Goddess to keep her safe while she slept and pray that the spell would achieve the desired goal, without anyone getting hurt in the process.
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Chapter One Aaron, King of Outer Kartolia, was royally pissed. He’d been on holiday for no more than three weeks and this mess was what he returned to find. Johann was lost to the enchanted castle north of their lands—his journey there a stunt to punish Aaron for missing his younger brother’s sixteenth birthday, no doubt. And Henri, his royal advisor, had taken the law into his own hands without so much as a phone call to Kingdom City to solicit his king’s advice. As a result, there was now a pixie or fairy or whatever she was locked in his dungeon, a dungeon he hadn’t used in the four years since he took the throne. “We have a perfectly serviceable jail, Henri. I can only assume you were indulging your flair for the dramatic.” “Never, Sire. She practices the black arts, she had to be detained in stone,” Henri panted, already out of breath halfway down the stairs to the dungeon. “That’s a myth, Henri. Magic is magic and can not be influenced by such—” “I must disagree, Sire. She hasn’t cast a single spell as far as I know. I say the stone has kept her powerless.” “And I say her own restraint has kept her from turning you into a toad. You’re lucky, Henri. I would not have been so kind if locked away for weeks in such conditions.” Aaron couldn’t even look at the man who scurried along beside him or he knew he would give in to the rage that filled him. How dare he do this? No matter that he’d been a royal advisor since before Aaron was born. Henri knew how Aaron felt about these barbaric practices. It was this kind of behavior that kept Outer Kartolia’s reputation as a wild, untamed land not fit for tourists alive. He’d just spent three weeks judging a ridiculous reality show in Kingdom
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City to help promote a more positive image for his country. Now that effort would be wasted as soon as news of the fairy’s time in the dungeon hit the evening news. And it would make the news because Aaron wasn’t the king his father had been. He didn’t believe in using threats to keep his people silent and obedient, too fearful to say a word against the Crown. “Where is she?” Aaron asked the guard at the bottom of the stairs. The obese man scrambled to his feet, shoving a half-eaten turkey leg into the drawer of the ancient desk behind which he sat. Charming, and an act that would have earned him a cane whipping in Aaron’s father’s day. “Back there at the end of the hall, Your Highness. Last cell to the right,” he said, picking up a large ring of keys. “I’ll take you back.” “Really, Aaron, there’s no need for you to be down here. I can have the girl brought up to the throne room in an hour’s time. You haven’t even had time to change out of your riding clothes. The journey from Kingdom City is a long one and—” “Who has been tending this prisoner?” Aaron demanded, his jaw tight as he swallowed the bile rising in his throat. Dear god, he hadn’t thought the dungeon would be a comfortable place after so many years of disuse—it hadn’t been designed for comfort and neglect had made it even worse—but he hadn’t expected this. Giant rats scurried into the walls, fleeing the light of the guard’s lamp, and an overflowing waste bucket sat in the center of the room. Clearly no one had bothered to it empty in the weeks the prisoner had been confined. The smell was horrible, but that wasn’t what turned his stomach. It was the sight of her that did it. She lay on the stones, without so much as a blanket, either unconscious or dead, he couldn’t be sure. What had obviously once been lovely, long blonde hair was matted with dirt and tangled around her face, her nightdress was torn and filthy and she possessed nothing but scraps of fabric tied around her feet to serve as shoes.
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“I asked who has been tending this prisoner!” Aaron shouted the words this time and Henri jumped at his side, beginning to babble. “Sire, I had no idea the creature was housed so pitifully. This was none of my—” “Creature? You call this human being a creature and expect me to believe you meant for her to be treated well?” Aaron turned on the shorter, aging man, for once not caring that Henri had helped direct the course of the nation when he himself had still been in diapers. “She’s not a human, Sire. She’s Fae, and the fairy responsible for your brother’s loss.” “No, Johann is the man responsible for his own loss for being fool enough to venture into an enchanted castle. Just as you are the man responsible for torturing another living being, no matter what name you would call her.” “I gave orders for her to be secured, Sire, not treated like an animal. I swear it.” Henri’s rheumy eyes grew wide and frightened as he realized the depth of his mistake. “I don’t care what orders you gave. You were in charge of this country in my absence and you failed me, Henri. Your services are no longer needed. Consider yourself relieved of your duties immediately.” “But, Sire!” “You have a week to vacate your chambers.” “Surely you’re joking, Prince Aaron,” Henri said, disbelief and the beginnings of anger in his tone. “I am not joking and I am no longer a prince. I am King of Outer Kartolia, Henri, a fact you would have done well to remember when you were making decisions as if the crown rested upon your own head.” Aaron felt his hand move unconsciously to his sword. The weapon was largely for show, something he strapped on after emerging from his limo and before mounting his horse for the three-mile ride through the ancient
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cobblestone streets of Torinth to his ancestral castle. The people enjoyed the sight of their ruler dressed in his finest riding clothes and saber, making his way home like the kings of old. But today, Aaron knew he wouldn’t mind putting the sword to its intended use— the drawing of blood. Henri’s blood. “You won’t last a year without my counsel. You are not the king your father—” “No, I am not the king my father was. You’re right. Be thankful for that, Henri, or I would indulge the urge to slit your wretched throat.” The words emerged as an outraged growl, and sent Henri scuttling off down the dark hall. The guard attempted to follow, but Aaron stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Open the door to the cell,” he commanded. The man obeyed without hesitation, the trembling of his hands betraying his fear. Good, let the man fear him and let him share that fear with the rest of the castle guard. Indulgence had won him few allies amongst a militia loyal to his father’s memory. It was time to see what friends terror might win for him. As Aaron entered the cell, a strange wind puffed gently against his face, a sweet fragranced breeze that carried none of the stink of the waste bucket. It distracted him as he knelt beside the woman and gently brushed the hair from her face, making him unprepared for the impact of the beauty he revealed. “Dear…god…” It was suddenly difficult to breathe and Aaron felt his heart twist violently in his chest. It wasn’t simply that she was beautiful—though she was, her delicate features achingly perfect even smeared with dirt—but that she was also so terribly familiar. He felt he knew her, had always known her, as if the woman of his dreams had… But that was ridiculous, he had no “dream woman”. Johann was the one tormented by nighttime fantasies of a beautiful young woman locked in a tower, asleep until he braved great hardship to rescue her. Aaron preferred flesh and blood women, usually
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ones that he could dismiss from his bed in the morning with a kiss and a fistful of kartols. Still, just a few days ago, he had asked Katarina Masterson, one of the contestants of the reality show, to come with him to his home country and consider life as his queen. He hadn’t truly thought she would accept the proposal, but he had hoped for the chance to get to know the fiery redhead a great deal more intimately, both in the bedroom and out. He’d been intrigued by her in a way he wasn’t by most women. Intrigued didn’t begin to describe how he was affected by the woman he was scooping off the dungeon floor, however. No, intrigued wouldn’t even be a place to start. He felt nearly…possessed…driven to protect her, care for her, heal her…liberate her from something…something that had tormented her for much longer than a few mere weeks, no matter how horribly mistreated she had obviously been. It was time to consider he might be losing his perspective where women were concerned, but that would have to wait until he’d righted a few wrongs. “Go fetch the waste bucket.” Aaron emerged from the cell without sparing a glance for the guard, his attention consumed by what seemed a small flutter of the woman’s eyelids. She was definitely breathing and wasn’t too desperately thin. Hopefully there was nothing wrong with her that a bath, some food and a little care couldn’t mend. Aaron waited until he heard the guard grunt as he bent over to pick up the bucket and then slammed the door of the cell shut, plucking the keys from the lock and throwing them to the ground just beyond the reach of the guard inside. “I trust a few days here will teach you better care for those in your charge.” Aaron shot the guard inside the cell a cold look and turned to leave, not surprised to hear whimpering coming from behind him. The biggest bullies were always the first to break under hardship. Unfortunately, the sound made him wonder—how long had the beauty in his arms wept before she eventually succumbed to such a hard sleep that her eyes remained closed as he carried her out of the dungeon, up into the light? 15
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It was a question he knew had no satisfactory answer.
***** Calliope drifted in and out of the beautiful dream, her mind so far gone that every imagined wonder seemed heartbreakingly real. She could feel the soft hands of the women who bathed her, taste the soup they spooned between her lips and catch glimpses of kind female faces in those moments when a soft breeze from the open window touched her face, making her lift heavy eyelids, only to close them once more as she was lured back to sleep by the blissful softness of the bed beneath her. She’d never felt a bed so soft, not in all her life. It was hard to believe even her vivid imagination could create something so fantastic. Once or twice, in the hours or days in which she drifted, she awoke screaming, battling the voices in her mind, but there was always some imaginary friend there to soothe her. And eventually there was a woman who looked like a healer with crushed herbs for her to place beneath her tongue. Calliope eagerly opened her mouth to accept the paste, which smelled so similar to the potion she used at home. But as she settled back onto the riot of imaginary pillows, she caught the dark eyes of the man who stood behind the healer and shivered. It was him, the King of Outer Kartolia, looking at her as if he cared for nothing more than her well-being, her safety and maybe even…her pleasure. Calliope closed her eyes again to shut out that painful sight. It had been so much easier to believe all this was real before she’d seen the king’s face. Now there was no doubt every comfort was a lie created by her mind to ease the terror of her time in the dungeon. Even as I go to sleep on these sinfully soft sheets, in the real world rats could be feasting on my flesh. With that warm and fuzzy thought, Calliope fell back into a deep and, thankfully, dreamless sleep.
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***** Aaron didn’t know what tempted him to do it. Maybe it was simply frustration with waiting for her to come back to the world of the living. In three days, her eyes hadn’t stayed open for more than a few minutes at a time and she hadn’t spoken but to rave at some invisible tormentor. Meanwhile, no word came from his brother and Aaron had to admit to himself that Johann would not be emerging from the enchanted castle under his own power. It had been nearly a month and still not a whisper from the north of his whereabouts. That meant it was up to Aaron to find a way to free the young prince. The fairy he held in his arms would be invaluable in that effort. While she slept, Aaron had learned that she was, in fact, Calliope La Fae, the fairy made famous as a child for the curse she bestowed upon Rosamund Beauvielle at the princess’s sweet sixteen birthday party. Some said the curse was made out of spite and jealousy as Rosamund was the only female the child had ever met who was prettier than she herself. Others insisted the entire business was simply a mistake caused by letting a child too young to cast give an infamously un-returnable fairy’s gift. But whatever the truth behind the tale, no one would know how to outwit the spell better than the one who had cast it. There was reason enough for him to try to rouse Calliope at any costs. But was it reason enough to justify the means by which he would attempt to wake her? “Calliope,” he whispered into her sweet-smelling hair as he came to a stop by the couch near the bathing pool. “Calliope, wake up. It’s time to return to the land of the living.” She murmured something unintelligible in her sleep and shifted in his arms, snuggling closer to his chest with a small smile, but her eyes stayed firmly closed. Aaron’s chest grew tight as it had every time he was within fifty feet of the beauty, but this time his body responded in other ways as well, his cock immediately stiffening to a state of maximum arousal.
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“Damn it!” Aaron cursed himself as he set Calliope gently down on the couch. He couldn’t do this if he couldn’t get his own body under control. This bath wasn’t about him, it was about giving Calliope pleasure, about awakening her body in a way that would give her mind no choice but to awaken as well. Awaken and slap you with a lawsuit, accuse you of accosting her while she was asleep and— “Shit,” he said, sitting down hard at the end of the couch and burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t do this, no matter how crazy-making he had found it to be around her the past few days. Once she’d been bathed, fed and given medicine recommended by the royal physician, she’d lost the tortured air that had surrounded her when he’d rescued her from the dungeon. She’d seemed less vulnerable, despite her constant sleep, and he’d found himself possessed with the need to get closer to her, to lie down beside her and hold her in his arms, to part the folds of her white robe and bare the luscious skin beneath. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of that cream-colored skin, to watch her nipples harden and her breath grow shallow as he touched her everywhere but those places she most wanted to be touched. He wanted to strip off his own clothes and lower himself on top of her, close enough for her to feel his heat, but not close enough to make contact. Then he would lower his lips to hers for a kiss, just one soft kiss. The eroticism of being naked, so close to being pressed tightly together, but only allowing that slightest connection would be nearly enough to make them both climax. And as the kiss grew bolder, as the tip of her pink tongue traced the seam of his lips and— “God help me,” Aaron said, actually managing a tight laugh at his own expense. He hadn’t been this aroused from simply fantasizing about a woman in years. He stood and walked toward the bath, leaving Calliope sleeping peacefully on the couch. He pulled off his shirt and slipped out of his loose-fitting pants quickly, but hesitated with his fingers at the waistband of his boxer-briefs. She hadn’t woken in 18
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days, what were the chances she would wake just as he was undressing? And even if she woke while he was in the bath, he could always summon attendants to come show her back to her room while staying concealed beneath the water. “No sense in trying to bathe without baring my skin,” Aaron muttered under his breath as he shoved that last piece of clothing to the floor, freeing the turgid length of his erection to the warm, humid air of the bathing chamber. With a groan, he walked into the warm pool, submerging himself in the hot water up to his neck and bringing his fingers to wrap around the aching length between his legs. He might be above following through with his plans to give Calliope an erotic wash, but he wasn’t at all above relieving some of the wicked tension in his cock with his own hand. He might not even be above looking at Calliope as he did so, imagining her soft hands on him, her lips parted as he slipped a hand between her legs, blue eyes wide as— It was the thought of her eyes that made him turn around. He’d never had a good look at her eyes, didn’t know if they were brown or blue or green or some fairy shade not even found in a human woman. But he was about to find out. She was awake and staring right at him in a way that made him think she’d seen him disrobe…and wasn’t entirely displeased with finding a naked man the first thing to meet her eyes after her long sleep.
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Chapter Two She knew she wasn’t dreaming as soon as he dropped his shorts to the floor. Calliope La Fae had done a lot of dreaming in her day, a lot of fantasizing, but she’d never in her life even dared to imagine a king in the altogether. Hell, she rarely imagined anyone in the altogether, even Jamie, the shepherd who had taken her nearly ancient virginity only the summer before. Well, especially not Jamie. He was so terribly thin, despite his lovely dark eyes. Unlike Aaron—it somehow felt right to call him Aaron, without the formality of his title between them. Aaron was at least six feet of pure muscle and possessed of wide shoulders that tapered down to a finely toned back, and a firm, round bottom that made her mouth water. She suddenly wanted to press her teeth into that hard flesh, to taste the unique flavor of his golden skin, while she let her hands stray around to the front of his body, to tease that long, hard length she’d had a brief glimpse of as he’d strode into the bath. Strangely, the urge and the image it conjured in her mind didn’t cause her the slightest bit of shame. She’d only been with one man and never been besieged by carnal appetites, but she was most certainly besieged now and not at all inclined to blush like a near virgin at her lurid thoughts. She had no idea how she’d come to be in the castle or why the king had brought her into his bath, but she knew exactly how she’d like to spend her time now that she was there. Her nipples tightened against the soft fabric of her robe as she slowly pushed herself up to a seated position. Her arms trembled slightly, but from disuse or the overpowering lust surging through her, she honestly couldn’t say. Then, as if summoned by her aching body, Aaron slowly turned around. Goddess, he’s even more lovely in person than in his pictures. 20
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Warm brown eyes sparked in a face that was masculine perfection, graced with strong high cheekbones and a pair of full lips that begged to be nibbled at least as much as his beautiful ass. Calliope felt her lips part and a soft, needy sound escape her throat. Never had she been more consumed with the need to touch a man, to close the distance between them as quickly as possible, to press her bare body to his and beg him to fill every empty aching place inside her, to merge with her completely until she forgot there was such a thing as separate skins. She wanted to lick the beads of water from his chest, run her fingers through his dark, damp hair and pull his mouth down to kiss every fevered inch of her. He returned her heated stare, unblinking. They both seemed to be holding their breath, as if to breathe were to break the spell that allowed them to gaze at each other with such undisguised hunger. “Calliope.” That’s all he said—simply her name—but somehow that was enough. She brought her fingers to the tie at her waist and tore at the fastening, hands shaking as she opened her robe and let it fall to the cushions behind her. The tortured moan that escaped Aaron’s lips as she bared herself to him so exactly mirrored the way she was feeling that she didn’t hesitate for second, simply stood and raced the few feet to the bath. He met her on the steps, pulling her almost roughly into his arms. Calliope gasped as her cool flesh made contact with his warm, wet body, a sound he swallowed with his mouth upon hers. He claimed her lips with a kiss that tore more tortured, hungry sounds from her against her will. She didn’t want to seem too desperate, too wanton, but it was as if she’d never known the meaning of those words, never been taught by her mother to fear the power of a human’s touch. “You intoxicate me,” he mumbled against her lips, not interrupting their kiss for a moment as he pulled her into the deeper water. Once there, he hitched her legs up and around his waist and pressed her back against the wall of the bath. “Yes, you as well,” she said. 21
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“Completely out of—” “Out of my mind with it.” She finished his sentence and pulled his lips back down to hers. Calliope let her tongue tangle unabashedly with his, indulging the desire to arch her breasts into his chest and luxuriate in the feel of the crisp hairs teasing her nipples. Her hands ventured down his strong back to clench into his ass, pulling him closer, pinning the heat of his arousal between his body and hers. He groaned as she tilted her hips, rocking her clit against his hardened shaft, a delighted laugh escaping her lips. What had come over her? Who was this new Calliope who so freely delighted in the power she held over a man, who celebrated with laughter the blissful, giddy way he made her feel? Aaron pulled away from her, staring down into her face with a smile. “So they are indeed blue,” he said, just as his hand slid down between them to tease at her opening. She cried out and pressed closer to his hand, aching to feel his fingers sliding inside her. But he seemed determined to tease, playing through her swollen folds, idly thumbing her clit, but never giving her the penetration her body craved. “Please,” she murmured, her nails digging into the muscles of his shoulders, her entire body shaking as she wiggled closer to the hand that toyed with her. “I can feel your slickness, even in the water.” Aaron followed the words by plunging what felt like two thick digits inside her. Calliope cried out, head thrown back, amazingly close to finding release from that one simple touch when he pulled his hand away. “More, please, more.” She captured his face in her hands, kissing and biting his full lips, willing him to see how desperately she needed him. She’d never felt like this before, never felt she would die if she didn’t feel some part of him—any part of him— stuffed deeply inside her. “I will give you more. I’d give you anything you needed. Absolutely anything, my love.” The words rushed from Aaron’s mouth, seemingly without his consent judging 22
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from the way he suddenly pulled away from their kiss, a shocked expression on his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” “I don’t want anything. Anything but you.” Calliope dropped her hand and wrapped her fingers tentatively around his swollen shaft, ignoring the whisper of unease raising the hairs at the back of her neck. Men often said things they didn’t intend to say during sex. At least Jamie had, always professing his love as he lifted her skirts and pressed her back into a tree near where his sheep grazed, but never whispering words of affection at any other time. It was only natural that even a man as experienced as the king would do the same, wasn’t it? Her mind didn’t have time to answer that question, as she was quickly distracted by the jump of the cock in her hand and the sound of pure need escaping Aaron’s throat. That sound, the evidence that she made him as wild as he made her, was quickly becoming one of the sweetest things she had ever heard. “You shall have me,” Aaron said, his eyes now filled with nothing but lust as he lifted her to sit on the edge of the bath. “But first I will have you.” Calliope shivered as the cool air met her wet skin, then shivered again as Aaron gently pushed her legs apart, baring her sex. “Beautiful,” he whispered at what he had revealed. Calliope’s breath grew faster as he moved his hands between her legs, parting the dark blonde curls there and examining her with a heat in his eyes that made her pussy swell and her sex weep in earnest. “Lay back, show me all of you.” Calliope hesitantly obeyed, shifting back onto her elbows and letting Aaron lift her knees and spread her legs even farther. Her nipples drew into tight, aching points as her back met the cold tile, but it was nerves, not the chill, that made her attempt to sit back up.
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“Please. Stay,” Aaron said, his words far more a demand than a request, but stay she did, completely captivated by the sight of the king lowering his mouth to kiss her thigh. Oh Goddess, then he kissed her again, farther up, higher and higher until she could feel his warm breath on her cunt. Any moment it seemed he would kiss her there. She’d heard of this, but Jamie had never tried to— “Goddess!” All thoughts of Jamie or any other man fled as Aaron’s tongue darted out to flick, just once, across her clit. His dark eyes lifted to meet hers and the man actually had the nerve to grin, a wicked grin that made her already throbbing sex pulse with an even greater hunger, and then darted his tongue out again. Calliope watched, helpless to look away as he claimed her pussy, his tongue lightly tracing her swollen folds, dipping into her entry, moaning as he tasted her cunny and obviously found it very sweet. Soon her breath was coming in shallow little pants, her every muscle strung tight, thighs trembling, seconds from shattering under the attention of his hot, demanding mouth, but for some reason she couldn’t seem to allow herself that pleasure. “Aaron, please,” she begged, not knowing what she begged for, but hoping somehow he would. “Then you know my name.” “I do, I would know you anywhere.” She spoke before she thought better of it, but Aaron didn’t seem to think her words foolish. “And I you. Now tell me, what do you want, Calliope?” He reached up and cupped her breasts in his warm hands, gently testing their weight before his thumbs brushed across her tips while his mouth resumed his work between her legs. She cried out again and the trembling in her legs grew even worse, until she feared he would think something wrong with her. Surely other women never shook like this, quaked with the force of their need. Perhaps this was something odd that only fairies did, or maybe, just as with her magic, she was deficient in passion as well, maybe— 24
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“Come, Calliope. Come on my mouth, I want to taste more of this sweetness.” The raw hunger in his words and the eagerness with which he set to suckling at her clit banished her worries, easily wiping her mind clean as if self-doubt were not one of her most frequent activities. Every care she’d ever thought to have vanished in a blinding flash of pleasure as his wicked tongue brought the tension in her belly to climax. “Goddess!” Her shout echoed against the tile of the bathing room, coming back to play about her ears as his fingers worked into her pulsing sheath. Calliope could feel how her slickness dripped from her body onto the hand he worked between her legs, but shame was the furthest thing from her mind as her body began the climb toward pleasure once again. She pushed against him, setting the rhythm for his thrusts, spreading herself wide to the tongue he continued to flick against her sensitized clit. Within a few seconds she was breathless again, head thrown back, breasts arched toward the ceiling as her body tightened and her head swam. “Again, sweet god, come for me again, Calliope. Come for me again. I want to watch your pussy—” “Aaron! Goddess, Aaron!” His name joined her call to the Goddess this time as her body clamped down with spine-bowing intensity on the thick fingers inside her. She trembled and shook and clutched at his hair in wild abandon as he withdrew those fingers and replaced them once again with his mouth, lapping at her cream with a fervor that left no doubt of his passion for the work. “I want you inside me. Please, inside me,” she tugged at his hair, let her nails rake against his shoulders, knowing she would die if he brought her to the edge again without his cock inside her. Never had she ached for a man like this and she knew making love with Aaron would put the awkward, hurried couplings she’d shared with Jamie to shame.
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You won’t even remember you’ve had another after him, this man is your destiny, your love, the liberator of your heart and— Calliope’s eyes flew open as the thought raced through her mind unbidden. Goddess, no! It couldn’t be! But the word liberation was too much of a coincidence. What if what she felt for Aaron, what he felt for her, wasn’t real? What if this passion was just the side effect of her spell, another case of her magic running amok? But before she could pull away, before she could open her mouth to speak, to warn Aaron of her fears, he was out of the bath, pressing her back onto the tiles. Her legs were already spread wide and he settled easily in between, his cock butting up against her dripping entrance before she had time to fully prepare herself. “Calliope,” he cried out her name as he thrust into her. Calliope gasped at the way he filled her, stretching her nearly to the point of discomfort, but a discomfort that only lasted the slightest moment. Within seconds, her body adjusted to accommodate his girth and pain was the furthest thing from her mind. He even slid wide hands beneath her shoulders and bottom before he pulled out and shoved back into her again, cushioning her from the floor by taking the weight of their bodies. Then there was nothing but pleasure consuming her once more, nothing but the bliss-inducing sensations of Aaron’s cock tunneling in and out of her core, his body hot and heavy over hers, his strong arms cradling her as they mated with increasing abandon. He kissed her again as he worked between her legs, faster and faster, and the taste of her body mixed with the unique taste of Aaron himself made Calliope wild. She cried out and pulled him tightly to her, plunging her tongue into his mouth, meeting his thrusts with her own. “God, I want more of you. I don’t ever want to stop,” he moaned against her lips. She made a sound of protest as he suddenly withdrew from her body, but eagerly followed his lead as he pulled her to her feet and then pushed her down onto her belly on the nearby couch. She felt his heat behind her almost instantly and tilted her hips to 26
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aid his entry. He thrust back into her welcoming body with one swift, deep stroke, bringing with him a feeling of completion, safety, peace, unlike anything she had ever known. “Aaron.” The way she said his name sounded like a prayer, but Calliope had never felt more fabulously sinful than she did at that moment. For some reason, the knowledge that he couldn’t see her face freed her of the last of her restraint and she fearlessly followed her wildest urges. She arched back into his thrusts, shamelessly tilting her hips and bucking back into him until the flesh on her bottom rippled, but still she pushed harder, rising onto her hands and knees, delighting when his strong hands dug into the soft flesh of her hips. She could feel her face twisted with carnal hunger, but she didn’t care, didn’t care about anything but taking her lover to the edge and freefalling off the side right beside him. “God, sweet, I’m going to come. I want you to—” Calliope drowned out his voice with her cry as his fingers found her clit beneath their furiously mating bodies and applied just the slightest pressure. But just the slightest pressure was all it took to shake her to the core for a third time. Her cunny contracted with a beautiful violence, trapping Aaron inside her as his cock began to pulse. He called her name and thrust even more deeply, so that she felt the tip of his shaft butting up against the end of her, jerking softly in a way that was almost enough to bring her over again. He collapsed heavily on top of her, but his weight was comforting, not stifling. She luxuriated in the feeling of his hard body pressed so intimately to hers and his softening cock still buried within her, no longer able to remember what it was that had worried her before. It was surely nothing of such great importance, nothing that— “I’ve never felt like that before, never felt so free to give or take pleasure,” Aaron said, his voice as soft as the kiss he pressed to her cheek. Free. There it was again, that sentiment that brought all of her concerns rushing back to her. She’d wanted her freedom from imprisonment, surely there was no way 27
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her magic could have interpreted that to mean she and this man should liberate each other in some way? It just didn’t make sense. Of course, her magic had a way of twisting her words to suit its own purposes. “The spell I cast for Rosamund, on the day of her sixteenth birthday party?” “Yes?” Aaron pulled away from her, obviously surprised at the abrupt change of subject, but willing to follow if the way he pulled gently out of her body and rolled her onto her back was any indication. He settled beside her, propped on one elbow, looking ready to listen, though his hand came to play softly over her stomach in a way that was quite distracting. But that tender touch wasn’t one-tenth as distracting as the look in his eyes. Goddess, the way he looked at her, with such compassion, such caring. It was almost as if the man were in love with her. But that was, of course, completely insane. He was a king, an experienced man, and beyond the foolishness of falling head over heels for a woman he’d bedded once and knew not at all. Only a naïve fool would believe that the spark in his eyes was true emotion, or begin to hope this powerful man felt the same way she felt, as if everything they’d ever longed for could be found in the safety of each other’s arms. “Calliope?” Aaron asked. “Yes, Aaron?” Even the feel of his name in her mouth felt so very right. “The spell you cast?” he urged with an indulgent grin. “What about it?” Dear Goddess, how could she have forgotten so quickly? She had to hurry and explain before her befuddled mind got in her way yet again. “My wish for the princess was for her to always have a peaceful room of her own. I was seven and my father had just— Well, my mother and I had moved to a one-room farmhouse and I never had a moment to myself. So I thought that would be the most wonderful gift for the princess, to always have a place she could call hers, where she could think her own thoughts in peace and quiet,” Calliope explained, hoping the
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example might help him understand when she had to break the news that their mutual desire might not be what it seemed. “It would seem to be a good gift.” The look in his eyes told her he already knew the conclusion to this story, but his touch encouraged her to go on. “Somehow, my magic understood that to mean she should be lulled into an enchanted sleep, walled up in a tower and protected from all intruders by a castle with all manner of dangers inside. Only the thirteen fairies invited even made it out of the party. Everyone else was spelled into sleep as well.” “But you were very young. Only five or six—” “I was seven. Before we escaped from the castle, I tried to fix my mistake by modifying the spell. I asked that the curse only last one hundred years and that the princess be lured from her solitude by the kiss of a prince who wanted her for his wife. In my mind, I assumed that would happen very soon. She was so lovely and maturelooking to me and I—” “You tried to right the wrong you’d done her. An admirable thing to do, no matter the consequences.” He paused, and a sadness came into his eyes. “I assume you know what has become of my brother.” “I do, and I am so very sorry. Even if he reached Rosamund and asked for her hand, I can’t be sure the spell would be broken. My magic so rarely manifests as I intend.” Calliope’s hand flew to his face to cup his cheek before she could think better of it. The way he closed his eyes and pressed against her touch almost tore her heart from her chest. Goddess, how she wished this instant connection between them was real, that the tenderness she felt for this near stranger came from her heart, not her capricious magic. “Then will you help me free him? We’ve had no word for nearly a month. I’d like to leave tomorrow for the Beauvielle castle if you are able to travel. With my sword and your magic and—”
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“I will help in any way I can, but I cannot attempt to free your brother with a spell. My magic is too dangerous, too unpredictable,” Calliope insisted, a sharp pang of guilt slicing through her chest. She’d liberated herself with magic, why not his brother? Are you so selfish that you would break your vow to never cast again only to ensure your own freedom? “No, it’s not that I would break the vow only for myself. You see what’s happened here. There may be ill effects, the king may not be—” Calliope broke off with a sharp shake of her head. Goddess, she’d spoken aloud! She’d responded to the voice in her head. A quick look at the king showed him eyeing her with that wariness that always came onto people’s faces as they realized she was strange, not always in her right mind. She could feel the heat of her shame on her cheeks as she sat up, crossing her arms at her chest as if hiding her nakedness might conceal other vulnerabilities as well. “Calliope…are you well?” His voice was so caring, so concerned. She hated herself all the more for poisoning his heart with false love, manipulating him with her magic even though she hadn’t intended to hurt him. But she never intended to hurt anyone. It didn’t keep the damage from being done. “There was a healer. She gave me herbs. If that wasn’t a dream, I’d like some more, please.” “Of course,” he said, showing nothing but concern for her as she shrugged on her robe and he his clothes. He didn’t mention his brother again as they left the bathing chamber and walked through the sumptuous halls of Torinth Castle. It was just another sign the king wasn’t in his right mind. She might not know him as well as her silly infatuation would have her believe, but she knew enough of his reputation to know he was single-minded when it came to achieving the goals he set for himself and the kingdom. That he was so easily diverted from his course by something as insignificant as a show of mental instability from a woman he’d known less than an hour proved he was a man under fairy enchantment. 30
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Now the only question that remained was—what could Calliope do to remedy the situation? For remedy it she would, no matter the cost to her own foolish heart.
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Chapter Three They’d been on the road for three hours and she hadn’t said a word. Not when the pavement gave way to gravel or when the gravel gave way to a dirt road passable only on horseback. She’d acknowledged his comments with a nod or a smile, nothing more, until he began to dread the sound of his own voice. It was making Aaron feel insanely foolish, but still he tried, yet again, to lure her into conversation as he pulled off the road. “We’ll leave the truck here. I’ve arranged for someone from my country estate to meet us with horses a bit farther on,” he said, leaving the key in the ignition. They were only a few miles from his country home and on royal lands, so there was no need to worry about the vehicle. They wouldn’t encounter even slightly dangerous territory until they’d ridden several hours. “Are you hungry? Would you like to have lunch before we walk to fetch the horses or after?” “Either is fine,” she said, opening the passenger’s door and alighting from the truck with the same grace with which she seemed to do everything. There, three words. Are you satisfied now? Hell no, he wasn’t satisfied. Nothing could seem to satisfy him since yesterday’s interlude in the bath, since Calliope had taken those damned herbs and lapsed into silence, depriving him of the chance to learn more about her now that she was awake. That’s how he felt, deprived, as if every second when they weren’t intimately connected was robbing him of something vital. “Fool,” he muttered to himself as he slammed the driver’s side door and reached into the bed of the truck to grab their picnic basket. He was a fool, as lovesick as the brother they were going to rescue. At least Johann had the excuse of youth. Aaron was nearly thirty and had no good reason for falling so 32
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hard for a woman he barely knew. Sure, the sex had been the best he’d ever had, but sex was still just sex. It wasn’t a reason to feel so connected to a stranger, to feel like the color had gone out of the world because she was troubled by something. “Would you like to take your shawl?” he asked, noticing the way she rubbed her bare arms as they set off down the road. She shook her head no and shot him the smallest of smiles. “Would you like my coat, then? I’m not cold.” Aaron started to shrug out of one sleeve, but she stopped him with another shake of her head and a light touch on his arm. Even that small touch was enough to make his cock twitch in his pants, but what else was new? He’d had a pretty much constant erection since breakfast this morning. Looking at her, smelling her, watching her brush her hair back over her shoulders—the slightest provocation had him hard enough to break glass. It was maddening and probably the reason he finally lost his infamous control. “What is it, Calliope?” he asked, dropping the basket to the ground and turning to face her, barely managing to keep his voice below a shout. “You seemed willing to talk to me after I bedded you yesterday. Is that the only way I’m to have the pleasure of your conversation? Shall I fuck you here in the road? Will that earn me more than a smile or a nod?” “I—I’m sorry, I just…I thought it would be best.” The shock in her wide blue eyes immediately made him regret his harsh choice of words. What was wrong with him? He’d never spoken that way to a woman, not even the ones he paid for their services, let alone one who he cared for beyond reason. Beyond reason. There’s your problem, man. Lose your heart and your reason follows not long after. “No, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, picking up the picnic basket and starting to walk again. He was acting like a madman.
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No, worse, he was acting like a teenaged girl, upset because the object of his affection wasn’t expressing their feelings. Next thing he knew, he’d be asking Calliope what she was thinking every other sentence and wondering if she secretly thought he was fat. How far the manly had fallen. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.” Calliope’s voice was quiet, cautious, as if she was accustomed to dealing with people who lost their temper. And he’d thought he couldn’t feel any worse. “You didn’t. It’s my fault. I’m…out of sorts.” He turned and reached out to take her hand, resisting the urge to bring that hand to his mouth, to kiss the tips of each of her fingers, the center of her palm, to nibble down across her wrist, the soft skin on her forearm, run his tongue— Get it together, man! “Please, forgive me,” he said, squeezing her hand softly before releasing it. “I should never have spoken to you that way.” “You’re worried about your brother. I understand.” She smiled, and his chest grew tight. How could he have come to crave her smiles so quickly? “And it was partly my fault. I just didn’t want to make a fool of myself.” “How could you make a fool of yourself? You have better manners than half the ladies in my court.” Last night at dinner, he could practically see the fur rise on the backs of the various cousins, and daughters and friends of cousins, who always seemed to be hanging about the palace as their own behavior paled in comparison with Calliope’s. Not one of the ladies had the inborn grace or elegance of his guest. Even the way she ate her soup was like a dance, a sensual celebration of movement that had completely captivated every male at the table.
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“My mother was very insistent I learn how to behave in case we were ever invited to serve in a royal court. Not that we would have been, not with my magic being so unpredictable and my…strangeness.” “Your strangeness?” he asked, totally thrown. The only thing remotely strange about Calliope was that she seemed a bit old-fashioned, but he liked that about her. The people of Outer Kartolia were famous for being behind the times themselves. Besides, he found the contrast of her formality out of bed and her abandon in it psychotically arousing. “I don’t understand,” he continued before thoughts of Calliope in bed had the chance to undo him any further. “That’s why I try to choose silence over speech if I can help it. There’s less chance of talking to people who aren’t there if I don’t talk much to begin with.” She blushed pink across her cheeks, her embarrassment clear in every word. “I see,” Aaron said, wanting to throttle every person who had ever made her feel shame over something beyond her control. The castle physician had explained Calliope’s condition the night before. It was a highly treatable chemical malfunction of the brain—slightly more common in the Fae than humans—that could be kept at bay with a mixture of herb therapy and low stress levels. There was absolutely no reason for her embarrassment. If anything, the worsening of her condition was Henri’s fault for abducting her from her home without her tonics and subjecting her to miserable living conditions. Hell, it was a wonder she wasn’t raving nonstop after weeks in a dungeon without a spark of human kindness. Just thinking of how she’d been treated was enough to make him want to strangle Henri with his bare hands. Despite the advisor’s pique over losing the chambers that had been his for half a century, it was for the best Henri no longer lived in the castle. If Aaron were forced to lay eyes on him on a regular basis, he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep his anger in check. “Yes, well, that’s why—” 35
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“I have an aunt who can’t eat cake unless she drinks a special tea beforehand.” “Oh…really?” Calliope said, obviously confused by the abrupt change in topic, but too mannerly to ask him what the hell he was talking about. “She was born with the inability to process sugars. If she doesn’t drink the tea, eating a piece of cake could result in her death. Even with the tea, she can only indulge in dessert occasionally.” “How horrible!” Calliope said, eyes wide. “The poor woman. I can’t imagine. My mother used to harp endlessly on the evils of having dessert after every meal, but I can’t resist. Especially cake. If I’ve got a cake fresh out of the oven, I know I’ll have a slice for breakfast, then pull out just a bit for lunch and then after dinner I’ll give in to the temptation to have just a tiny bit more before bed.” God, he really was in love with her. Just the way she talked about cake made him want to snatch her up and kiss her breathless. “Exactly. But we don’t think anything of her calling for the special tea before the dessert course is served at dinner.” “And why should you? I mean—” She broke off and turned to him, lips parted, eyes searching his. She took a breath, as if to speak, but stopped, stared at him a bit more…then took another breath, held it and blew it out through her pursed lips with a shake of her head. He was beginning to think she’d misunderstood him when, finally, a smile stretched across her full lips. “You are quite a king, Aaron. As kind as I thought you’d be.” Despite her smile, she looked on the verge of tears as she stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. Before he realized what he was doing, Aaron let one arm tighten around her waist, pulling her closer, turning his head to catch the lips that had just left a warm imprint on cheek. She made a soft, eager sound as their mouths met and opened to the sweep of his tongue, meeting his slow thrusts with languid, teasing strokes of her own.
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She tasted even better than she had yesterday, sweet and clean, like the honeysuckle nectar he and Johann had sipped from blossoms as children. His head spun and that feeling of intoxication returned. He wasn’t usually a man who indulged in drink, but he knew he would gladly get drunk on Calliope’s kisses any time the opportunity presented itself. It wasn’t long before the picnic basket once again hit the dirt road. “I’ve been dying to touch you again,” Aaron confessed, both arms around her, smoothing up and down her back, cupping her buttocks in his palms before moving up to tangle in her hair. He knew he’d never get enough of feeling her against him, wished he could touch every inch of her all at once. “When you didn’t speak, I thought you regretted what we’d done.” “No, never. I only worried—” “Don’t worry.” He fisted one hand in her hair, pulling her mouth closer while the other urged her hips tighter to his. She moaned and pulsed forward against his obvious arousal, her control vanishing as quickly as his own. It was as if the second they touched, every barrier fell away, every societal convention, every thought of how one “should” behave with a new lover melting into nothingness in the heat of their passion. It was uncommon in the best sense of the word, a rare abandon Aaron was already coming to crave. “You don’t understand,” she said, her words ending in a gasp as he ran his hand up her ribs to cup her breast. Her nipple tightened until he could feel the bud through the fabric. He hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to her truly stunning breasts the first time they’d made love, an oversight he meant to make amends for immediately. “Then explain it to me, love,” he said, softly kissing down the length of her neck. He ignored the way that word found its way into conversation for the second time in two days. No matter that a part of him admitted to the madness of loving her, the old Aaron would never have made the mistake of uttering the word aloud. The old Aaron knew a 37
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thing or two about women, how to lure them in and how to frighten them away if need be. He’d found no better way to rid himself of a clinging female than to speak of his undying devotion to her in god-awful love poetry that he recited upon the occasion of every meeting. A bit odd perhaps, but a wonderful way to put an end to a fling with no feelings getting hurt. The last thing he wanted to do, however, was scare Calliope by raving about his love for her less than twenty-four hours into their relationship. He’d just do his best to make light of the word, ignore it whenever it managed to fly out of his mouth by attending to more important things…like her achingly beautiful breasts. His fingers finally slipped loose the bow at her bodice, and Aaron tugged until one perfect breast slipped free to his gaze. She wasn’t wearing a thing underneath her dress—a fact he’d been all too aware of since that morning—so there was no further obstacle to revealing that pale, peach-colored nipple that practically begged for him to attend to it. “It’s difficult to…oh, Goddess…” She abandoned words for soft cries of pleasure as he took her bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around the tight tip. Her skin tasted nearly as wonderful as her lips, a mix of flowers and honey that made him suckle her deeper, pulling at her sensitive flesh until her breath came faster and her fingers tangled in his hair. She arched into him and pulled his mouth closer. His teeth pressed into her flesh, drawing a hungry sound from her throat. “Calliope.” Her name sounded as much like a profession of love as any word in his language as he pulled away from her heated skin and roughly pulled at her bodice. His hands shook and he barely resisted the urge to rip the cloth in his haste to free her neglected breast. Only the knowledge of the servant waiting down the road with their horses lent him restraint. Aaron didn’t want anyone, male or female, to ever see Calliope as anything but a true lady, keeping the secret of her sensual abandon all for himself. 38
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Finally he bared her other breast and descended upon it with a groan, eager to kiss and lick and suckle that nipple into a state as fevered as the first. He continued to pluck gently at one tightened tip with his fingers as he laved one breast and then the other, worshiping her sweet skin with his mouth until she fisted her hands in his hair and pulled. “Aaron, I can’t take any more. I want you inside me again.” Her eyes were glazed with desire and her lips parted so prettily he couldn’t resist the urge to crush her mouth beneath his. Their kiss was less gentle this time, an erotic battle of tongues, teeth and lips that sent the pressure in his cock surging to a state of near pain. He fought to maintain control as he fisted her dress in his hands, lifting the long gown until he could slide one hand beneath. His fingers trailed up one thigh, expecting to find the soft, damp cotton of her underthings, but instead finding nothing but crisp curls and a pool of slick heat just behind. “God, woman,” he groaned as he slipped first one, then two fingers inside, nearly losing his mind as her arousal coated his hand. “Do you understand what this does to a man? To find you bare beneath your clothes?” “I’ve never worn underthings,” she panted against his lips as she rode his fingers, impaling herself even deeper with little thrusts of her hips. “The Fae don’t have monthly courses, so—ah, Goddess, Aaron, I want your cock where your fingers are.” She pulled away from their kiss with wide eyes and a tiny laugh. “Forgive me, I’ve never spoken like—” “There’s nothing to forgive. I love hearing you asking for your pleasure.” Especially when a bit of filth came from that demure little mouth, he thought, but didn’t share with Calliope. She’d figure that out on her own. His girl was clever for all her naïveté. “You want me to fuck you?” “Yes…I want you to fuck me,” she said, eyes sliding closed as he intensified his thrusts inside her. She clung to his shoulders, digging her nails into the flesh there.
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Aaron wished he was rid of his clothes so he could feel the sharp, delicious pressure of her touch. “But fuck me with your cock, not your fingers.” The note of command in her voice, so different from her usual subservience, drove him wild. Let other men say what they would about dominating their women, to Aaron there was nothing that made him feel more erotically charged than knowing he’d brought out the fierceness in his lover, made her so hungry for the release he would give her she tried to take the lead in the bedroom. Not that he would always allow the transfer of control…but it was flattering to hear them try, nonetheless. Especially Calliope. She was magnificent in her hunger, even more beautiful when her features twisted with the need to— “Please, Aaron. Now!” She was seconds away from coming on his hand, finding release on the fingers that drove into her cunt and the thumb that applied just the slightest bit of pressure to her swollen clit. Her channel tightened around him, slick and hot and beginning to pulse lightly, but still Aaron waited. Just a few more thrusts, just a bit more… When her lips parted and a flush stained the swells of her breasts, Aaron abruptly removed his touch. Her cry of protest became a sound of anticipation as he backed them both off the road, pushing her up against a wide tree whose branches shaded the grass beneath. He pulled at the closure of his riding pants, wincing as he finally freed his swollen cock. His tip was nearly purple and damp with liquid, revealing how ready he was to push deep inside her. He began to bunch her skirt up around her hips, but she stopped him with her hands on his wrists. “Wait, not the tree,” she said, surprising him. “I’ve only had one other lover and that was how we— Well, it’s just that— What I mean is, I don’t want to think of anyone but you when—” “Don’t worry, Calliope, I promise you will be thinking of none other than me.” Aaron forced himself to ignore the rage that filled him at the thought of any other man 40
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touching Calliope, but his touch was a bit rougher than intended as he pulled her to the ground on top of him. Without wasting another moment, he pulled up her skirts, holding them out of the way with one hand so he could watch as the other positioned his cock at her entrance. She dropped her hips without hesitation, encasing him completely in her tight, wet heat. Aaron groaned and bucked into her, feeling the tip of his cock butt up against the end of her channel. They were a perfect fit, as if made to give each other pleasure. Calliope braced herself on his chest and began to ride him, experimentally at first, as if she’d never been on top of a man before, but then with increasing abandon. Aaron held tightly to the swells of her hips, meeting her thrusts, and doing his best not to shoot inside her within the first thirty seconds. But it was difficult…insanely difficult. Her long, curly hair danced around her shoulders, slipping forward to tease against her lightly bouncing mounds. The sight of her, nearly fully clothed but with her kissswollen breasts exposed, was without a doubt one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen. It wasn’t long before he placed his hands beneath her arms, pulling those delicious peaks close enough to kiss. “Aaron!” She moaned his name as he pressed her breasts together and suckled both of her nipples into his mouth at the same time, her rhythm faltering for a moment before she began to move against him in a different way. Aaron hummed against her flesh, pulling away to trace the outline of each swollen nipple with his tongue before resuming his suckling and pinching. She was grinding into him now, the motion of her hips a sensuous circling he could tell was taking her closer and closer to her pleasure. He met each little circle with a pulse of his hips, urging the tension within her higher until she made a hungry, almost animal sound each time his pelvis bucked into her clit. The pressure in his sac became nearly unbearable, but he struggled to hold his own release at bay, focusing his attention on the feel of the hard ground beneath him, the
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sound of the birds singing in the tree above, anything but the liquid velvet of her pussy gripping his cock with previously unimagined perfection. “Goddess, yes!” Calliope arched above him, every muscle tense as her cunt clamped down around his cock with enough force to draw a cry from his own lips. Her eyes were closed at first, but after a moment she opened them to gaze down into his face. The look of wonder, satisfaction and tenderness mixed in her features destroyed the last of his control. Aaron rolled her beneath him, making sure he stayed buried inside her as they moved, then began to pound into her welcoming heat with a wildness he normally wouldn’t allow. He was usually too worried about hurting a woman, but with Calliope the very idea of “worry” was completely foreign. He felt her pleasure almost as deeply as he felt his own, knew he would be aware the second she felt any pain. The connection between them was unbelievably freeing, almost magical. Magical…maybe fairy magic? The thought sent a whisper of unease through his mind, but the second he met her eyes, Aaron was once again consumed by the bliss of being inside this amazing woman. She was beautiful, sweet and strong, not at all the type who would need to resort to trickery to win a man’s heart. Perhaps not his heart, but what of her freedom? The whisper became a warning that nagged the edge of his thoughts. When she’d spoken to the voice that wasn’t there yesterday, hadn’t she said something about breaking a vow to win her freedom? Could she mean the vow she’d told him would not allow her to use her magic to free his brother? “Aaron, my love,” she whispered, tears in her eyes as she came a second time. She reached up to touch his face and he bent to kiss her lips, all thoughts of magic fleeing his mind. All thoughts of anything at all vanished beneath the wave of feeling that washed over him.
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His heart ached with the same ferocity as his cock and both seemed to break apart as he came inside Calliope with a sound very near a sob. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of, the woman he hadn’t believed could possibly exist. What did it matter if his love came from his heart or from some trick of magic? Surely feeling this kind of euphoria, triumph, bliss was worth being the victim of deception? And perhaps being a princess cursed to sleep her life away is not so bad, as long as she has beautiful dreams. The thought cut through him, a knife slid cleanly into the heart of his pleasure, and Aaron did sob then, a part of him already mourning the death of the dream that was Calliope.
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Chapter Four Men were far more complicated than she had thought, even kind, brilliant lovers like King Aaron. Of course, if he wasn’t so generous in bed and hadn’t made it clear he didn’t think less of her for the weakness of her mind, Calliope wasn’t sure she’d think Aaron was quite so kind. “Hurry up, Calliope. Night will be falling soon. Try to ride as if you weren’t a lifeless body slung across the saddle.” In fact, she would probably think he was a first-rate ass. “Put some effort into the act, will you?” His voice made it clear how very little he thought of her riding skill. She’d told him she’d only ridden once or twice before, so she had no idea why her ineptness made him so cross. She’d done her best, struggling to keep pace with him even when her back began to ache and the sensitive skin of her thighs and bare cunny chafed against the rough leather of the saddle. One would have thought he’d tell her they’d be riding the last leg of the journey today before their departure so that she would have known to wear the riding pants she’d packed instead of this dress. “Aaron, are you sure we can’t stop for just a moment? I really feel as if—” “How many times have I requested your silence?” He didn’t even turn around, simply barked the words over his shoulder from where he rode in front of her. “Several, Aaron, but I—” “Then keep your peace. We’re in a dangerous part of the country.” “Nonsense, we’re not far from my own farm and I never—” “I won’t ask you again for silence, Calliope. The next word you utter will be considered treason against your king and country.” He followed the harsh words by
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kicking his mount most severely, urging the poor beast into a canter after four hours of hard riding. “Treason, indeed,” Calliope muttered under her breath, beginning to think truly treasonous thoughts about the ways in which she like to make King Aaron pay for his rudeness. For once, she wished she were skilled at magic, especially transfiguration. Perhaps spending the afternoon as a lizard would teach the man to think twice before he began behaving like a cold-blooded reptile. It was nearly impossible to believe he was the same man who had made love to her with such tenderness, who had melted her heart to the point she could not help but call him her love. She’d even cried at the beauty of their passion, for Goddess’ sakes. But perhaps that was what had motivated him to begin behaving like a mean-spirited troll. Mother had always said a man who believed he held your heart was a man who couldn’t be trusted. They were cruelest to those they cared for and even crueler to those who cared for them. Or maybe your spell is wearing off or transforming itself into something wicked. For once, the voice in her head wasn’t one of the “others”, but her own inner muse. The herbs the healer at the castle had given her were even more effective than her tonics. She’d placed some under her tongue after lunch and hadn’t heard the slightest whisper from the cast of characters usually gathered in her skull. She’d been wonderfully alone with her own thoughts…too bad that those thoughts hadn’t been at all wonderful. She couldn’t help but feel Aaron’s abrupt change of attitude was somehow magically related. She’d never heard anything but good things spoken of the king and the way he had treated his family and courtiers at dinner had been above reproach. Even some of the more spiteful members of the court had been treated with tolerance or the gentlest of reproofs and his dealings with her had been generous and caring. He had been a sympathetic ear and shamelessly devoted to her comfort and pleasure. 45
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Right up until the second they’d finished making love in the grass, when he had pulled away from her, stood and stared down at where she still lay with a suspicious light in his eye. Perhaps he suspects the passion between you is tainted? “Goddess, why didn’t I tell him last night? Why did I keep my suspicions to myself?” Calliope softly asked the heavens, though she already knew the answer. After the festive supper in his hall, after the way he walked her to the door of her chamber and kissed her so sweetly, telling her to rest for their journey the next day, after dreaming about him half the night, even imagining the princes and princesses she might one day bear, she hadn’t wanted to speak a word that would influence him against her. She’d convinced herself to wait until they freed Johann, justifying her silence with the belief that Aaron shouldn’t be distracted from the rescue by concern over his own possible enchantment. “You were truly only thinking of yourself. Selfishness is never rewarded, Calliope,” she chastised herself, then urged her mount into a trot despite the raw state of her skin. Aaron had pulled ahead quite a bit and it wouldn’t do to lose sight of him. She hadn’t been to the Beauvielle castle since she was a girl and could easily get lost on the road they followed. The narrow dirt path had branched into twos and threes several times, but Aaron always seemed to know which branch to choose, as if he had memorized every inch of his country and would know how to navigate its roadways blindfolded. Blindfolded… The word shot through her mind and brought a grin to her face that wasn’t the least bit innocent—but then Aaron did seem to bring out the wanton in her like nothing or no one else had. The pull between them had seemed the strongest when they were gazing into each other’s eyes. Even during the ride, Aaron’s voice would gentle if he turned back to look
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at her before he spoke. So perhaps the best way to test the truth of their attraction was for Aaron to be unable to see her as they touched… The beginnings of a plan in her mind, Calliope urged her mount into a full canter, suddenly as ready as Aaron to arrive at their campsite for the night. The sooner they fed and watered the horses and had their own supper, the sooner she would be able to put her theory to the test.
***** “I’ll clean the dishes, just go prepare yourself for sleep. Morning will come soon enough and I don’t want you to delay our departure by remaining abed until noon.” They were the first words he’d spoken since they’d set up camp and were voiced in the same impatient tone he’d used with Calliope all afternoon. “Of course, Sire. I live but to serve you,” she snapped, losing her temper with him for the first time, despite the fact that he’d given her more than enough reason to lash into him several hours past. He turned to watch her storm away toward the river, a smile tugging at his lips no matter how foul it made him feel to treat her so horribly. Some sick part of him enjoyed hearing his imperious tone mocked in her sweet, lilting voice. The smile faded as quickly as it had come, however, replaced by the more familiar feeling of misery. Aaron was making himself miserable treating Calliope like a wretched inconvenience, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. If he wasn’t actively trying to be difficult, he slipped all too easily under her spell once more. Just the sight of her blonde hair shining in the sun made him want to whisper a hundred apologies into the delicate pink shell of her ear, as he showed her just how sorry he was for his nasty temper by bringing her to climax with eager fingers between her legs. “Damnation,” he cursed as he scraped their plates clean and buried what little food remained from their supper under the ground a few meters from the camp.
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This was hardly the way to prepare the night before a difficult battle. And it would be a battle, no doubt about it. Calliope had told him as much as she knew of the castle and none of it sounded good. There was a moat of molten lava surrounding the keep that had the tendency to rise just as unwary travelers attempted to cross the drawbridge. There was a forest of poisonous vines filling the bottom floors of the castle and the entrance to Rosamund’s tower was guarded by a hideous half dog, half dragon beast that moved with preternatural speed and enjoyed the flavor of human flesh. If he hoped to conquer the castle without magical intervention, he would need all of his wits about him, though he hoped to have more than the power of the sword on his side. He had brought Calliope on this journey in the first place hoping she would be swayed to use her magic once she came face-to-face with the monstrosity she had created. Surely she couldn’t help but attempt to end the enchantment once confronted with it directly. He actually found it hard to believe she hadn’t tried to remedy Rosamund’s situation before now. Aside from the one spell modification she had made as a child, Calliope swore she hadn’t even dared venture within miles of the castle for fear of making the problem worse. Her lack of faith in her power didn’t inspire much confidence in Aaron, either, but the castle physician had sworn there was nothing magically amiss in her aura. Aaron couldn’t see such things himself, but he trusted Dr. Whethers implicitly. She had kept his father from death for a good twenty years after the old man should have passed into the next realm. The former King Aaron had even managed to sire a son, Johann, several years after the first attack on his heart, giving Outer Kartolia a second male heir to the throne fourteen years after the first. If she said there was nothing clinically wrong with Calliope’s magic, he believed her. But that left the question…what was the fairy’s problem? For there certainly was a problem if her gifts ended up being curses upon the gifted. No matter that he was angry
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with her for enchanting him into caring for her, he still didn’t believe Calliope would deliberately hurt anyone. Then why are you punishing her with your foul temper as if she were a practitioner of the black arts? Aaron snatched the pan they’d used to warm their dinner from the ground near the fire and stalked off toward the river, choosing a different path than the one taken by his companion. He would wash the dishes and do his best to avoid answering his own question. He’d never thought of himself as the type of man who would lose his head and his temper without thinking through a given situation, but there was no denying he had acted without thinking. Even if Calliope had spelled him—which he still didn’t know for certain—there was a chance she hadn’t done it on purpose. She seemed as infatuated with him as he with her—or she had until he’d spent the afternoon pushing her away—and surely wouldn’t have deliberately bespelled herself. He supposed there was a chance she was like some of the more besotted young women of his realm, who idolized him with the same strange obsession usually reserved for musicians and stars of the screen, but it didn’t seem likely. She hadn’t even ventured to his castle of her own free will, but was kidnapped and held prisoner there. If her magic had been firmly under her control, why wouldn’t she have simply caused the bars to vanish and walked free? Why allow herself to be treated so vilely? And Aaron knew Johann had needed no prodding to set about this foolish mission. His younger brother had lived with his head in the clouds since he was a child, always caught up in some imagined drama in which only he could save the damsel in distress. It all came down to the fact that Aaron had most likely been punishing Calliope for nothing, for what would the fairy have to gain from making him fall in love with her? The title of Queen and access to the great wealth of the kingdom of Outer Kartolia, yes, but so did every other woman who came to his bed. He’d stopped worrying about that
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being the sole motivation for a woman to love him a long time ago. Aaron trusted his instincts to let him know when he was being played false. Even if some woman managed to trick him, he knew she would pay the greatest price for her treachery. What sadder existence could there be than to marry another person for material gain? Aaron knew that no treasury, regardless of size, would ever be able to make up for such poverty of the heart. “Seems you’ve answered your question in spite of yourself,” Aaron mumbled with a grim smile as he knelt beside the swiftly flowing river. He’d just determined he had to speak honestly with Calliope about his suspicions, after a heartfelt apology, of course, when her voice sounded from behind him, nearly shocking him enough to drop the dish he was washing into the water. “Don’t turn around, and don’t say a word. This is the simplest of spells, but I still can’t guarantee your safety if you disobey my command.” Her voice was cold, but her words, nevertheless, sent a wave of heat surging to his groin. She could be getting ready to kill him, for all he knew, but still, the idea of being at her command made his traitorous body react. “Calliope, I warn you—” “I will tell you once more to be quiet, Aaron. After that, you take your life in your hands with your disobedience.” He sucked in a deep breath, but forced himself to hold his lips together as she began to chant behind him. She really was casting something, damn it, and despite Dr. Whethers assurances, Aaron didn’t have enough faith in Calliope’s magical skill to risk shaking her concentration. “Still and mum is what I would, magic hear and do as you should.” The air near the river seemed strangely silent, empty without her words to fill it. Aaron was about to say something to that effect, hoping to soothe her temper after an obviously failed spell, when a strange stinging sensation hit the back of his neck. Warmth spread throughout his body, relaxing his muscles for one blissful second before 50
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his arms were suddenly forced up and over his head, seemingly bound together by invisible wire. “What the—” His words ended in a shout as he was pulled across the ground by some unseen force, coming to an abrupt stop against a tree. His head hit the bark— hard—and his vision swam for a moment before everything before him, including Calliope’s incredibly concerned face, faded to black. For a moment he thought he was losing consciousness and flashed back to the battle of Bartok when he’d taken a club to the head and the world had gone black for what he’d been sure was the last time. Luckily, his first commander had been able to conceal his body under several of the slain from the opposing army. He’d woken up covered in blood and near death from thirst, but at least he’d woken. But he would never forget the first sound that met his ear, that of the ravens cawing as they came to feed upon the dead. “Aaron? Can you hear me?” Her voice was soft, cautious, but still sent a chill running through him as he realized, no matter how hard he tried, he could not open his eyes. “What have you done? Release me from this spell immediately! I swear by the—” “Quiet now, you’ll hurt yourself. The spell won’t last long and I believe I have built in a way to release you from it even before the time when it will naturally expire.” Her hand smoothed down his stomach and over the slight bulge in his pants—which, of course, became a much-larger bulge under her exploring fingers. “So if you want to be released, Aaron, I suggest you hold still.” Dear god, and he’d thought he’d taken a relative innocent yesterday in the bath. “If you wanted to play games, you should have told me in advance. It’s customary to receive the consent of the one who will be bound,” he said, still angry, frustrated with his inability to see or move his arms or legs, but intrigued in spite of himself.
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“I’m sorry. I was afraid you wouldn’t give consent in your present foul mood, and there is a pressing question I simply must have answered.” Her lips touched softly upon his neck, making his pulse leap. “Trust me, Aaron. I would never hurt you.” “Even though I treated you wretchedly the entire day?” he asked, his heart beating faster as he felt her fingers begin to work the buttons on his shirt. “Not the entire day. I seem to remember some time spent under a tree that was quite pleasant.” He felt the gentle puff of her laughter against his cheek a second before she kissed him there. He turned to catch her lips, but she was too fast. “Let me guide the course this time, Aaron. Just try to enjoy yourself.” “I’ll try,” he sighed in his most beleaguered voice. Her laughter was accompanied by slight rustling and when she pressed back against him, bare skin pressed against his own bare chest. He groaned. “You are such a good sport.” She kissed his cheek, his neck, then drug her teeth slowly over his jaw, taking his breath away. “But I’ll ask you one favor—when I ask you a question, please answer me honestly.” “I always attempt to be honest in my dealing with others,” he said, his words catching only slightly as she began to tug at the closure of his pants. “Good. Even if you think that an honest answer would hurt my feelings, I still want only the truth from you tonight.” Her words were slightly obscured as she was kissing her way slowly down his chest as she spoke, but he gathered her meaning. Now if he could only figure out what she was about with this strange game. “Do you like it when I kiss you here?” she asked, seconds before her lips brushed lightly across the tip of his cock. “God, yes,” he answered, wondering if all of her questions were to be so easily answered.
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“Good.” She continued to kiss him for a few moments before her tongue swept experimentally across the head of his arousal, drawing a grown from his lips. “And that as well?” “Yes,” he gasped again and again as she tormented him with her mouth. She drew him slightly into her wet heat and suckled, then drew him deeper and sucked a little harder. She spun her tongue around his tip, moaning as if she were tasting a delicious sweet, then scraped her teeth lightly over the place where his shaft met the plumper flesh of the head of his cock. She fisted the base of him in her hand while her head bobbed up on down at the top, quickly driving him to within seconds of shooting into her sweet mouth. And after every wicked act, she asked if he was pleased until he didn’t know if he was giving affirmation or begging for more. “And now the last question,” she said, raking her nails lightly across his swollen sac as her fist continued to slide up and down his cock, still slick from her mouth. “Yes, anything,” he grunted, resisting the urge to thrust his hips forward, speeding the friction of her hand on his cock. He was doing his best to let her lead, to play his part as completely as possible, for there was no doubt he’d be demanding the same complete submission when it was her turn to be bound to the tree. And it would soon be her turn, whether she realized it yet or not. “Do you feel the same way now as you did when we were together before? Does it feel the same way…in your heart?” Her words seemed to crash through his head, shattering his expectations of the game, and even taking some of the edge off his arousal. “It’s okay, Aaron,” she whispered, bending to kiss and lick the head of his cock. “Whatever you answer. Simply tell me the truth.” “No.” His throat was tight and his insides more mixed up than he could ever recall. “No, it isn’t the same.” And it wasn’t. He still cared for her, enjoyed her, but…that wild
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freedom, that feeling of being head over heels in love with Calliope wasn’t there. It simply wasn’t. What he couldn’t understand, however, was why that should feel like it was breaking his heart. “Thank you, Aaron,” she said, sounding like she really meant it. Then she set back to work on his cock, suckling, stroking, claiming him with her mouth, lips and hands until he was once again on the brink. “I’m going to come, Calliope, I’m going to—” She moaned her encouragement around his throbbing flesh and that was all it took. He cried out as he lost himself in her mouth, the black fading from his eyes in time for him to look down and see her—eyes closed, bare breasts framing his cock on either side as she swallowed every last drop of him down. It was a beautiful sight to behold, but for some reason he still felt…empty. If this was what it felt like to be released from Calliope’s power, it was no wonder that Rosamund still slept after all these years. Maybe, on some level, the princess knew nothing could be as wonderful as whatever dreams Calliope’s magic had given her. Maybe, just maybe, she’d decided she didn’t want to wake up, no matter what prince came to save her. He supposed they’d both find out tomorrow, a day which might very well be their last spent together. “It’s for the best this way,” she said, looking up at him from where she still knelt on the grass. “I can see you clearly now as well. The spell must be broken. I swear to you, I didn’t mean for this to happen. It must have been a side effect of the liberty spell I cast, hoping to free myself from the dungeon.” “I believe you.” Aaron swallowed hard and stretched his arms and legs, newly released from their confinement. “Now, will you answer me one question?” “Of course.”
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“Do you regret what you did just now? Now that we see each other…clearly?” “No,” she said, a spark of heat in her blue eyes that made his recently spent cock thicken. “I don’t regret any of the pleasure we’ve given each other.” “Good, because now it’s your turn.” He lifted her from the ground without a word and carried her back to the camp. It might not be love, but it was extremely excellent sex. He wasn’t going to pass up what might be their last night together to spend his time nursing a broken enchantment. Or a broken heart.
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Chapter Five They reached the edge of the Beauvielle lands by mid-morning, but it wasn’t soon enough for Calliope. She was past ready for this journey to be over, to rescue Aaron’s brother and be on her way back to her farm. Life in her little cottage might be monotonous at times and always a little lonely, but at least she was spared this tumult of emotions. Every time she looked at Aaron or caught him looking at her, she felt she would break in two. She felt outside herself, but at the same time more miserable in her own skin than she could ever remember being—even when her mother’s loathing of her only daughter had been at its most obvious. That’s what comes of lying. “I didn’t lie, I simply didn’t tell the entire truth,” Calliope murmured under her breath, lest Aaron hear her from where he rode slightly ahead. A lie of omission is still a lie, and now you’ll pay the price. How it will cut your heart to hear of his marriage, for he will be married soon, there’s no doubt about that. Perhaps he’ll see the young Rosamund and be captivated by her beauty, falling— “Quiet. You know nothing of Aaron. He wouldn’t marry anyone who didn’t touch his heart.” As if you know anything of his heart. His affection for you was merely a product of the affliction, a lie only a fool would believe. “I am not a fool, I was under the spell as well.” You prove the point you protest. Only a fool is caught in their own magical web. Besides…you’re not under any spell now. Are you? Yet still you loooovvveee him. “Oh…shut up!” Calliope shouted.
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“Are you all right?” Aaron asked, turning in the saddle to cast a concerned look back at her. “We can rest before we approach the castle if you like.” “No, I’m fine, just…practicing a few spells,” Calliope fibbed, grateful when Aaron nodded and turned around. Another lie. You’re getting so adept at them. Perhaps you should— “I am finished speaking with you,” Calliope whispered, shutting out the sound of the “other” voice with no small degree of effort. Despite the herbs, the voice of criticism had returned this morning. She remembered the healer at the castle saying stress would make the voices worse and she was nothing if not stressed this morning. Just another reason for her to hurry back to her farm, where there was no Aaron to sweet-talk her into using her magic to help free his brother or make love to her into the wee hours of the morning as if he still cared. There had been no whispered words of love, but every stroke of his hand, every movement of his body inside hers had been as achingly beautiful as always. “But he doesn’t feel the same way.” Calliope forced the words out of her lips, but immediately squeezed her eyes shut against the pain they caused. She was no longer under her own spell—the haze had left her eyes the moment it had left Aaron’s—but she couldn’t lie to herself. She still loved him. She still ached to be in his arms, to have him smile just for her, to know the warmth of his kindness and even the harsh prick of his temper. She wanted to be a part of his life, someone who mattered to him beyond what magic she would work to save his brother. What magic you will work! Goddess protect the man and his brother, and Rosamund as well, from the disaster that is your— “The spell last night went off exactly as planned,” Calliope said, feeling no small degree of satisfaction to be able to point that out to her mother. *But darling, that isn’t your mother. She’s not real, remember? Stay focused, Calliope. I’m here to help you as well, you know. Though I don’t get the chance to speak as—*
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I’m as real as you are, Melinda. Get out of my daughter’s head. Stop filling her mind with your lies. She’ll never be the fairy that I was or even you were. Best if she goes back to her farm and shovels manure for the rest of her life. *Heliotrope, you always were more witch than Fae. I wish I’d taken Calliope from you when I had the chance. I wish—* “Please, Melinda, I appreciate your help,” Calliope said, smiling at the voice of her fairy godmother, who had died far too soon in her opinion. “But right now I need to have my wits about me. I can’t seem to get Mother to be quiet, but the fewer voices at the moment, the better.” *Of course, dear. But know that I believe in you. The magic has always been strong within you. Just believe in your own power, the way you did last night. Aaron will help you. His love for you is—* His lust for her is more like it. *The man loves you, Calliope. Don’t doubt it. Have faith, and by the end of this day you may be very pleasantly surprised.* Or dead. One prophecy or the other is bound to come to fruition. You’ll either be surprised that you managed to survive your own magic or eaten alive by the monster of your own creation. We’ll find out soon enough. Her mother’s voice was right. The tall spires of the Beauvielle castle were already in sight. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be able to feel the heat of the molten lava that filled the moat, and hear the roar of the creature that guarded the entrance to Rosamund’s private chamber. “Goddess, be with me.” Calliope closed her eyes and reached out to the Goddess of all in a way she hadn’t since she was a little girl, pleading for the Goddess to help her please her mother. “Aid me in this course, that I may protect Aaron and his brother, Johann, and hopefully free Rosamund from her long sleep. I am at your service, both me and my magic. Guide my hand and my power. This I ask in your name.”
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The voices in her mind were quiet then and Calliope took it as a sign the Great Mother was indeed with her. And it was a good thing too. She was going to need all the help she could get.
***** “I’ve changed my mind,” Aaron said as he and Calliope finished the last few bites of their early lunch—no sense going into an enchanted castle without a hearty meal, especially if you suspected it might be your last. “I want you to stay here with the horses. If anything happens to me, or if I don’t come out within a few days, you can follow the river back to—” “No, Aaron. I’m going with you. You’re right, you’ll need magical help if you hope to free Johann.” She stood and threw the last bit of her sandwich into the brush for the animals, then began plaiting her long hair into a single braid. Aaron watched, mesmerized. She was even more beautiful this morning, if that were possible. Her snug-fitting riding trousers and white shirt clung to every luscious curve and her feet were encased in tiny suede boots. The clothing was practical, chosen specifically for the battle they would fight today, but made his body respond in a way even her gauzy dresses hadn’t. It had been hell this morning, resisting the urge to haul her back inside their tent and strip them both naked once more, but he’d promised himself last night would be the last time he indulged his carnal appetites with the fairy. Theirs was too confusing a relationship to continue. The memory of how he’d loved her haunted him, making his heart ache even as the rest of his body relished the most exquisite lovemaking he’d ever known. Sex. Not lovemaking. Sex. Keep that straight, man. “No, I don’t want you in danger.” And he didn’t. He might not love her, but he respected her, cared for her enough not to want her to risk her life. “It was my brother’s choice to come here, to seek out danger in the first place and I wouldn’t—”
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“But it was I who created the danger for him to seek out.” She smiled, a sad little twist of her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. She finished with her hair, and tossed the long braid back over her shoulder. “Besides, it is past time for me to right this wrong.” “Very well,” he said, seeing there was no point in arguing with her. There was something strong about Calliope today, as if she believed in her magic a bit more than usual. “You didn’t blind me last night, so I suppose your magic is in good working order.” “Exactly.” She smiled again and this time real humor danced for a second in those deep blue depths. “At least as good as it’s likely to ever be.” God, he wanted to kiss her senseless when she smiled like that. He still craved the warmth of that grin, no matter that he was in his right mind once more. “Then let’s discuss our strategy,” he said, turning away from her to face the castle. It was better not to look at her too much, lest he lose the courage to allow her to come along. For some reason, the idea of Calliope walking into the keep beside him frightened him far more than if he were going in alone. If he perished, it would be serving his duty, rescuing a member of the royal family. If she perished…no, he couldn’t even think on that or he’d tie her to a tree that very second. Speaking of trees, not fifteen minutes later they were both atop one of the tallest surrounding the castle, preparing to glide over the moat of molten lava. Aaron shot a grapple with rope attached over the edge of the wall that surrounded the keep. With any luck, they should be able to crawl across the rope and into the main castle grounds without getting close enough for a surge of the lava to harm them. They would be suspended at least twenty feet above the drawbridge, presumably higher than any who had attempted to cross the moat before. Of course, the height presented other difficulties. “Are you sure you’ll have the strength to pull yourself across? If you take a fall from that height, you’ll—”
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“I’ll be fine, Aaron. I’ve worked a farm alone since I was eighteen. You can’t do that without building up a bit of muscle.” She didn’t allow him to continue the discussion any further, simply stood and walked out along the limb where they were perched with the grace of a trapeze artist and swung out onto the rope. “Careful!” Aaron warned in a hushed whisper, as if the lava could hear him. For all he knew, it could, since he was far from an expert in anything enchanted. She grinned back at him and looped her legs around the rope as well, beginning to inch her way across by moving first hands, then feet. It was a much more sensible way than Aaron had imagined crossing, using only the strength of his arms. He was actually glad she’d gone first, even if he did wish she’d given him a bit more notice so they could discuss what they were going to do after they were safely clear of the moat. They’d covered the basic outline of his strategy, but there was no such thing as too prepared when going into a tricky situation. He waited until she pulled herself up onto the ledge of the castle wall before he added his weight to the rope. As he made his way across, he began to sweat as the heat from the lava below drifted over him in dizzying waves. His palms were perilously slick by the time he neared the wall and he thanked God for the added security of his legs wrapped tightly around the rope as he pulled himself up to straddle the rock enclosure. “Now we use the swords?” Calliope asked in a hushed tone, looking down at the giant brambles that filled the castle’s courtyard, where they’d planned to land after shimmying down another rope they would hang over the side. “From what I remember of the tales, the vines come to life whenever anyone tries to make their way through them to the tower.” “So it would be better to continue with the rope, you think? Go over, rather than through?” Aaron asked, wondering if he had enough rope left to clear the one hundred feet between them and the tower.
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“Well, we could try that, but look at the line of the wall.” She pointed and he followed the direction of her finger. The wall they presently sat upon did circle around to the opposite side of the tower. If they were to use the rope from that side, they’d only have to clear fifteen to twenty feet before being connected to the tower itself. It was an excellent solution—if the wall had been more than eight inches wide. “I’m not sure I’d be able to make it around without losing my balance. I’m not nearly as light on my feet as you are.” “Who says you have to stand? We could scoot around.” She demonstrated by shifting her weight forward onto her hands and then lifting her hips and pulling them forward as well. It was a method that might very well leave him unable to sire children, but highly preferable to hacking his way through a living forest of vines with thorns the size of his forearm. Alone, he might have chosen to battle the brambles, but he’d gladly endure a bit of agony in his groin to keep Calliope safely away from anything so deadly looking. The scooting was a slow business, however, and it took nearly half an hour, judging by the movement of the sun, for them to inch their way around to the other side of the castle wall. Still, all remained silent as the grave below them. The silence, however, did nothing to ease Aaron’s mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, was watching them, all too willing to let them exhaust themselves a bit before leaping from the shadows. Perhaps it was simply the eerie sight of the enchanted court that plagued him. Every so often he would catch a glimpse of what looked like a dead body, tangled in the vines. Upon closer inspection, however, he could see the healthy color that tinged the men’s and women’s cheeks. They weren’t dead, merely sleeping, just as their princess slept, waiting for the moment when a prince would wake her. There were men who looked like warrior princes trapped in the vines, as well, no less dead-looking than the members of Rosamund’s court, but no sign of Johann. Perhaps his brother hadn’t made it past the moat and this entire rescue mission was in 62
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vain. If Johann had been consumed in the lava, his bones would have been incinerated. His body would never be found even if Aaron and Calliope reached Rosamund and the fairy managed to free the castle from its enchantment. “That window there would be easy to access, but the creature lives in the tower. It guards the passage up to the door to Rosamund’s room,” Calliope whispered over her shoulder. “We’ll have to be careful not to disturb it on the way in.” “The grapple will make a noise against the stone, there’s no help for that.” Aaron eyed the window she’d indicated. It was a bit lower than their position on the wall. He might be able to use that to his advantage, sliding quickly down and through the window and still have his sword drawn in time. He pulled the pack off his back and searched through it, finding what he sought in a matter of moments. “What’s that for?” Calliope eyed the cloth bandage curiously. “I’ll wrap it around my hands and use the cloth to slide down the rope. If I’m fast enough, I’ll be through the window before the dragon reaches me.” “It’s half dog, half dragon.” “Right.” Did that make it better or worse than a mere dragon? He had no idea and suddenly wished he’d paid closer attention to Johann when he’d talked of battling such creatures. At the time, however, he’d been busy battling armies and hadn’t had the time. He knotted the bandage twice in the middle to create a groove through which the rope could travel. That would help. Still, he wished he’d thought to bring the cooking oil from their camp supplies. It would have made the bandage nice and slick, thusly speeding his ride to the tower even more. “That means it might have smelled us already and be waiting for you just inside the window. The dragon aspect would make it clever enough to do so,” Calliope said, stilling his movement with a gentle hand on his. “I think this might be time for some magic.” “What do you have in mind?” 63
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“I’ll go into the tower first. If the creature is waiting, I’ll cast the spell I used on you last night to blind it and pin it to the wall.” “No, that’s unacceptable,” he said, pulling the second grapple from the pack. “Why? It’s my creature to kill. I created it and—” “But it is my brother’s rescue that brought us here in the first place.” “But it is my magic that will be needed to free Rosamund. If you fail to kill the beast, I’ll still have to attempt to spell it and it will be—” “What you do after my death is your business, but at this moment I’m not prepared to let you risk yourself,” Aaron said, so concentrated on the knot he was making to bind the rope first to the wall and then to the grapple, he was totally unprepared for her next question. “Why, Aaron? Why are you so reluctant to see me harmed?” He lifted his head, catching her searching blue eyes, and for just a moment that feeling surged inside him once more, that feeling that he loved her and that the worst wound he could suffer was to see her injured or worse. “Because you are my subject. I am king and that means putting the welfare of my people before myself.” He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the rope. “I am only one of your subjects,” she said, her voice sad. “If you really believe you should put your people before yourself, you will let me go first. If I’m killed, it is no great loss to our country.” “Calliope, please—” “In fact, if you really mean what you say, you shouldn’t be here at all. You should go back to the castle and send someone else to free your brother, for who will rule Outer Kartolia if both you and Johann are lost to this wicked place?” For the first time since meeting her, Aaron wasn’t at all pleased with Calliope’s quick wit. He’d asked himself the same question a hundred times, as had his advisors at the castle, but he couldn’t trust anyone else to save his brother. Johann was the only
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family he had left, and whether it made him a good king or not, family would always come first for him. But that didn’t explain why he was still reluctant to let Calliope go. According to his own logic, risking her life was preferable to risking that of the king’s. After all, she wasn’t family, so that excuse didn’t hold water. Then why does she feel closer to your heart than even Johann himself? He didn’t have time to answer the unspoken question before Calliope raised her hands and began to chant. “Calliope, don’t you dare! I swear I—” His words froze in the air, just as his muscles froze in place, trapping him on the edge of the wall. She left his eyes open this time, however, so he was forced to watch as she hurled the grapple out and into the tower window, and grabbed the bandage from his stiff hand. She pressed one last, swift kiss to his lips and then she was gone, sliding out of sight into the darkness of the enchanted tower. For the first time in far too long, Aaron began to pray for the safe passage of a woman who—now that it could be too late—he realized it might very well kill him to lose.
***** Calliope landed safely inside the darkened tower, every muscle tensed and ready to spell the monster that guarded Rosamund, but there wasn’t a sound on the stairs. It was as quiet and tomblike as the rest of the castle. “Curious,” Calliope mumbled to herself, her heart beating fast in her throat as she began to climb toward the top of the tower. She half expected the creature to launch itself out of the darkness at any moment, fangs bared, and rip out her throat before she’d had the chance to chant a word of her spell. She assumed that’s why she reacted as she did to the sight around the next corner.
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“Ahhh!” She squealed loudly enough to wake the people of the court from their enchanted sleep at the decapitated body sprawled in her path, despite the fact that a part of her brain attempted to soothe her with the knowledge that at least now the monster couldn’t hurt her. “Dear Goddess,” she said, picking her way around the edge of the beast, shaking and near to losing her lunch. She’d never seen so much blood, or smelled anything like the stench that blossomed around the rotting corpse. “Just keep walking, Calliope. Just keep walking.” She chanted the mantra to herself as she continued to climb, wondering what she would find when she reached Rosamund’s chamber. The beast who guarded her was dead, surely that meant Johann, or some other prince, had slain the thing. Logic would then assume he’d made his way to Rosamund’s room, delivered the kiss, and the proposal and they both would have been free to leave as the various other enchantments faded away. The lava and brambles didn’t seem the least bit “faded”, however, and the rest of Rosamund’s court was definitely still asleep. Something had gone wrong. But what? “I suppose I’ll know soon enough,” Calliope said, creeping up to the heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs. She put her ear to the wood, but heard nothing, giving her no clue what might wait for her on the other side. Slowly she turned the giant handle and the door swung easily open into the room. On the other side, Rosamund still lay in her bed, surrounded by gorgeous linens and a delicate yellow canopy with chiffon curtains that caught the sun and made the tiny tower room glow with a warm, friendly light. The room was fragranced with jasmine and rose and a light music filled the air. It was a peaceful place, a lovely place…except for the two men suspended from the ceiling at the center of the room, looking very near death. “Goddess!” Calliope gasped and brought a hand to her throat as if doing so might somehow help the poor princes to breathe. The rope at their neck was tight, but not 66
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tight enough to kill them. Both struggled slightly, hands clawing at the rope, though the smaller one seemed more energetic about the fight than the larger. Johann. It had to be Aaron’s brother. The golden skin and dark eyes were exactly the same, though Johann was much smaller than the king, still possessing the rail-thin form of a boy not yet out of his teens. The other man was larger and older, and Calliope thought she recognized him as Pater the Strong, the Barbarian prince from the lands beyond Outer Kartolia, who had disappeared several months before. She suspected he was the one who had killed the beast, which would explain how the smaller Johann was able to make it this far. But Calliope had no clue why both the princes were being held captive or by what. It was certainly not an aspect of her enchantment. No, it is something I developed on my own. “Hello?” Calliope yelped, spinning around to find the door behind her slamming closed, but no one else in the room. Oh, not true, dearest. There is someone else in the room. The room is in the room. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” Calliope shivered at the feel of the voice in her mind. With her history, she would never have thought she’d be troubled by a telepathic conversation. After all, she spoke to other voices in her head all the time, why not let someone else’s voice speak in there as well? Indeed, why not? You are such a clever, clever girl. “Who are you?” Calliope asked. It was the mind reading that made her shake. The other voices in her head knew what she was thinking because, in one way or another, they all were her. But this voice…it was something else, something foreign that made her skin crawl. Why should your skin crawl to know that your creation has taken on a life of its own? Only the greatest magics have that capability. You should be proud of your power. I know I am, as proud as any of the great keeps that dot this majestic countryside.
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Dear Goddess, it was the castle. The castle was speaking to her. It was the castle that had captured the two princes because it didn’t want the enchantment to end. Brilliant. You are as brilliant as I’d hoped. I’ve been waiting for you to come. “You have?” Calliope asked, walking slowly toward where the princes hung, struggling to think about a way to free them without actually thinking about it. The castle’s ability to read minds was no little problem to be overcome. Don’t think of overcoming me! Please, darling. We need to work together, you and I. “I’m not sure that’s going to be possible.” Of course it is. You want to free dear Rosamund, correct? “And the rest of her court, and the men who came to rescue her,” Calliope added, sensing that semantics were going to be important in this transaction. The castle clearly wanted something from her, and she doubted it would be any small favor. She had to make certain she got exactly what she wanted in return. You’ll get more than you ever dreamed in return, sweet. Haven’t you always wanted to live in a world where your magic was strong, where everything you wished for became a blissful reality? “I—I don’t know. I’ve never really wished for much.” You poor thing, of course you haven’t. Your life hasn’t been easy, has it? I think you, of all people, deserve a little happiness, the chance to live your dreams…as she has. The light surrounding Rosamund seemed to glow even brighter, making the bed where she lay seem like a piece of heaven to be found on earth. Calliope felt the beginnings of a bitter smile quirk at her lips. That was what the castle wanted then, was it? Another to take Rosamund’s place? So the enchantment never has to end. “Except for Rosamund and her people, and these men,” Calliope corrected, walking slowly toward the bed. What did she have to lose by taking Rosamund’s place? A life spent on the farm, lonely but for the animals she tended, slowly growing old and
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vulnerable to human diseases? The one she loved did not love her in return, but who knew what love Rosamund would find out there in the world? Surely she wouldn’t bemoan the loss of one ancestral estate when she could have her freedom. “You will free everyone else under the present enchantment?” Yes, of course. “If you don’t keep your promise, the enchantment will fade of its own power. You will not be able to hold me if you do not honor the magic by keeping your word.” Calliope stepped closer to the bed, her heart twisting in her chest. It was only right that she do this, that she finally make amends for stealing so many years of this innocent girl’s life. You didn’t steal a thing. She’ll awake the same age she went to sleep. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to be living in a time when those dreadful shoulder pads are no longer in fashion. Her enchanted castle was a fashion snob. Lovely. Calliope wondered what other surprises she was in for during the next hundred years as the new sleeping princess of this keep. Why cap it off at a hundred years, doll? Let’s go for broke. Eternity or until I crumble to the ground, whichever comes first? “Very well, it makes no difference to me.” Calliope closed her eyes and muttered one last spell before she reached down to take Rosamund’s hand. What was that? You were casting, love. You wouldn’t be trying to— “I’m trying nothing, merely giving myself the same conditions for freedom as Rosamund, but with only one man who will be able to break my enchantment. Surely that is fair?” It would hardly be any fun if there weren’t any young men trying to come visit. But I must insist you spell the doggon back to life. I’ve missed him the past few months since that stinky ape took his head. He was a brilliant protector.
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“Doggon, half dog, half dragon. Clever,” Calliope muttered as she willed the doggon’s rebirth to be an element of the bargain. Then, before she had the chance to think twice, she took Rosamund’s hand and pulled her from her bed. The young princess’s eyes flew open, even as Calliope’s slid shut and she fell onto the soft sheets and into a close, comfortable darkness.
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Chapter Six The earth was shaking as Calliope surged into consciousness with a breath befitting a woman emerging from the sea. She immediately clung to the strong arms that held her, not realizing until he spoke that they belonged to him. “Hold tight, Calliope. The keep is angry.” “Aaron? You’ve come for me? But I thought—” “Will you marry me, Calliope?” he asked, seconds before the ground shook again, tossing him onto the bed beside her. “What?” She squealed as the bed tilted on its axis, sending both her and Aaron crashing into the headboard. “I said, will you marry me? Good god, woman, just say yes, before the damned castle—” I am not damned, I am enchanted. And I shall stay enchanted for many years to come. You shall not cheat me of my destiny, Aaron of Outer Kartolia. Oh Goddess, the castle was desperately angry. They were both going to die here and it was all her fault. If only she hadn’t added the addendum to the spell. But she’d thought there was no chance for Aaron to come to her rescue. He didn’t want to marry her, for Goddess’ sakes, no matter what he said now. You aren’t even a prince, you are a king, making you ineligible to break the— “I had Johann crowned king three days ago. I am once again a prince of Outer Kartolia, until I return to the castle with my bride.” Aaron pulled her to him as the bed tilted again, clinging to the massive oak headboard to keep them from tumbling off the opposite end. “Now, Calliope, will you please accept my proposal so we can finally put an end to this mess?”
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His irritated tone was not at all how she’d dreamt of being proposed to. “Put an end to this mess? Is that the only reason you’re here? If so, you shouldn’t have bothered, Aaron. I have no wish to marry—” You see there, she has no wish to marry. Now get out of here before I— “I have no wish to marry for any reason but love. I love you, Aaron. I loved you even after the spell between us was broken.” “I love you too, woman! Dear god, why else do you think I’d make this wretched journey a second time, nearly unman myself on that wall and battle the creature out there in the hall?” “Then why are you yelling at me?” She felt near tears, and contemplated letting go of Aaron’s neck as the bed rattled and shook, attempting to toss them both onto the floor. That would show him how little she appreciated his unromantic, totally unconvincing tone. If the stones hadn’t chosen that moment to crumble away, leaving a massive hole on that side of the tower, she might have had the gumption to follow the impulse. “Calliope,” he said, the effort it took to gentle his voice abundantly obvious. “I knew the second you slid down that rope to battle the creature on the stairs that I still loved you. I would have come to fetch you immediately if I didn’t have to deal with the business of making Johann ruling sovereign. And then Henri attempted to mount an insurrection and I had to throw him in the dungeon. Then there was the—” “Really? What do you love about me?” Calliope asked, ignoring the crash as more of the tower crumbled around them. One entire wall was now gone and it wouldn’t be long before the entire structure would prove unsound, but she couldn’t bring herself to worry about that until she had her answer from Aaron. “I love your sweetness, I love your bravery in the face of illness and adversity. I love the way you smile at me and the way you touch me when we’re making love. I love hearing you talk, I love watching you walk along tree limbs, I love just sitting and eating with you and watching the sun set over the ri—” 72
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“Hold on, Aaron!” Calliope screamed when he groaned and one hand slipped from the headboard. They were both hanging from his one arm now, and there was no telling how much longer he could hold on. Good thing he’d sufficiently convinced her. “Yes, Aaron! Yes, I will marry you.” NO! You blasted fairy…with…your…tricks… The voice of the castle faded away and the earth settled, sending the bed crashing back to the ground. They sat in silence for a moment, watching dust float through the air. “I didn’t trick her. I told her when I agreed to take Rosamund’s place that I was including a way to break the spell. Nothing very tricky about that,” Calliope said, a bit ruffled before she turned to look at Aaron, then she couldn’t help but grin. “What are you smiling at?” “You. I love you.” He bent and kissed her, softly, but Calliope felt the emotion in that simple brush of lips all the way down to her toes. “You do love me, don’t you?” “I certainly do. Good thing, since we’re going to be married, isn’t it?” His hands were already wandering under the nightdress the castle had evidently magicked her into while she was asleep, sliding up the inside of her thigh in a way that made her nipples tighten. “Yes, a very good thing,” she mumbled against the lips he pressed to hers. Within seconds, his tongue was slipping into her mouth, stroking against her with the same skill that his fingers used to tease through the swollen folds of her sex. “You’re already wet.” He groaned and dipped a thick finger inside her, just once, making her groan in response. “I was dreaming about you.”
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“You were? Was it a dirty dream?” His hands pushed her nightdress up to reveal her breasts, his fingers playing across the tightened buds of her nipples before he dropped his head to capture one nub in his mouth. “Absolutely filthy,” she moaned, twining her fingers through his hair and arching into the skillful swirls of his tongue. “I believe you were fucking me from behind, pulling my braid and saying terribly naughty things.” “Really?” he asked, pulling away from her breast with a surprised, yet fevered, look in his eyes. “Really. I think you might have also swatted my bottom once or twice,” she said, enjoying her game as she tugged at the closure of his pants, freeing his cock. “Did you like that? When I swatted your bottom?” He shoved his pants to the ground and ripped his shirt over his head, then rolled on top of her, capturing her wrists and pinning her arms above her head. He kneed her thighs apart and she eagerly accommodated his hips between her legs. “I didn’t, I don’t think, but I’d been a very bad fairy and I think I deserved— Oh Goddess, yes, Aaron, I want all of you inside me!” He pushed the last of his thick length into her channel, coming to rest inside her with his swollen sac nestled between the cheeks of her ass. She’d never felt more full or more complete. He was hers, this man, hers forever and a marriage ceremony would only make it so in the eyes of the law. In her eyes, Aaron was already all the husband she’d ever desire. “I love you so much,” he said, staring down at her with a tenderness that made her eyes get a little misty. “I would slay another hundred beasts to be able to end the day in your arms.” “And I would sleep a hundred years in wait for you…but I’m glad it didn’t take that long.” She smoothed a hand down his face and urged his lips down to hers. Their tongues tangled as he began to thrust inside her, their coming together a lingering, sensuous mating that slowly built the fire inside her to a delicious burn. The 74
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sun itself seem to feel the heat, for it began to set, casting their bed in ruby light by the time they reached the pinnacle of their pleasure. Calliope cried out, her cunny throbbing around Aaron’s cock. He joined her moments later. Calliope watched his features twist with a primal delight she knew she’d never tire of witnessing. She wiggled her hips even tighter to his and relished the feeling of his hot juices splashing deep inside her. “And do you suppose you’ll want an heir of me, as well?” she asked, wrapping her arms and legs around him and holding him close as he struggled to regain his breath. “Even if they risk the chance of being a bit mad like their mum?” “I don’t think their mum is mad at all. Except that she agreed to marry a man who is so clearly unworthy of her.” Aaron propped himself up on his arms and kissed her, pulled back to look at her face as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and then kissed her again. Calliope had never felt so loved, not one day in her entire life and she felt her chest would explode from the wonder of it. “I love you, Aaron. I will gladly spend my life showing you just how worthy you are.” “And I you, sweet.” Then he kissed her again, and petted her again and soon they were making love a second time and that was completely fine with her. She’d had at least a week’s worth of beauty sleep and doubted she would need any more any time soon. Who had the time to sleep when there was such a man to be loved, then fucked and then loved some more? “Not I,” she said, rolling on top of him. “What?” he asked. “Do you need some herbs? I brought them in my—” “No, just talking to myself that time. My real self.” “Oh? And what did your real self have to say?” “It was wondering whether we should make love this time or fuck?” She giggled at the heat that leapt in his eyes. Who knew naughty words held such power?
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“How about one more time making love, then we explore that dream of yours, the one with your braid wrapped round my hand as I take you from behind?” He helped lift her and she spread the lips of her pussy, sinking down on top of him again with a sigh of satisfaction. “That sounds lovely,” she moaned and began to ride her future husband, and it was lovely, as lovely as any fairy story she’d ever read. And as a fairy, that was a very, very lot of stories.
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About the Author Anna J. Evans came back to her true love of writing fiction after working Off-offoff-Broadway and in a few Hollywood C-movies. She quit the biz to become a stay at home Mom-Writer and she’s loving every minute of it! Anna lives in Arkansas with her Air Force husband, her real-life romantic hero, their three kids and all the stories still making their way from her imagination to the page. Anna has been awarded multiple Recommended Reads for her paranormal and fantasy erotic adventures, but her favorite feedback always comes from fans. So feel free to
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Also by Anna J. Evans Bad Apple Decking the Hollisters Deep Cover Ellora’s Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction IV anthology Enchanted Love Fool Main Attraction Off the Deep End Seducing the Enemy Sinfully Sweet
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