Ice Dancer's Hold: The Brother's Keep, #4

By Tessa Stockton

His heart is cold and only she can warm it, yet doing so would annihilate the last of her kind.

A beautiful slave named Sasha holds the hidden power to destroy Master Kilian once and for all, along with his reign of terror. Instead, she openly sacrifices herself, silencing her own authority, deep within his arctic fortress. The question is, why? Now, among the confusion, evil prevails.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Creative Purpose Publications
• Release date: Dec 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393692300

Tessa Stockton

Tessa Stockton is a speculative fiction novelist, freelancer, and editor living in the United States. She is a former professional dancer.

Book preview

Chapter One

Secret Chambers

(Matthew 5:39-42)

Under the spell of the arctic moon

I’ll get what I want—yes! I’ll get it soon (I can taste it)

Until that day you said to me

I forgive you for all—now, come and love me

(How can you love me?)

Kristyana grunted as the chambermaid helped to tighten the laces of her corset. Easy there, fool-girl! Do you think I’m a horse under saddle? Dare you tighten my garment like I’ve some fat-bellied girth?

No, milady. The chambermaid curtsied, clasped together her trembling hands, and then continued with less jitteriness.

Do not be too hasty to dress, my sweet. The man’s voice broke the tension between the females. I’m not through with you yet.

His seductive ways made Kristyana’s skin tingle. She glanced at him lying naked on the bed with only a thin sheet bound up over his growing masculinity. The recurring urge to free herself from the cumbersome bind of clothing and wrap her legs around Viktor once more gave her an added dose of agitation.

We have no time. I must leave, she bit back.

Viktor rose from the bed and stood without shame.

The chambermaid’s eyes rounded when he dropped the balled sheet with a smirk.

Kristyana caught the servant’s shocked reaction. Oh, you, go on. Go now! She sent the girl away with an impatient snap and a push.

Once alone, Viktor wound his arms around Kristyana and pressed against her backside. He fished through the layers of material forming a part of her gown. This need not take long, he cooed.

Kristyana turned, slipping her arms around his neck. And what will we do when I am finally wed to Kilian?

It’s an arranged marriage, he said impatiently. Politics call. His words dripped with sarcasm then he huffed. Do your duty. I only ask that you save the best for me, he said with a newer grin, glancing over her head into the mirror, pressing his chin over her unruly flaxen hair. "And we can meet anywhere. We have met everywhere already." Viktor tucked one of her locks behind her ear. Then he reversed the motion and rubbed the crown of her head vigorously, messing the curls up even more. After which, he studied himself in the mirror.

Kristyana turned again and fell back into his arms, cupping his hands over her breasts. She caught the taunting wriggle of his brows in the reflection, then sighed at the absence of her own image. She hated mirrors, but Viktor’s incorrigible ego bade her keep the thing around. Ridiculous half-breed!

She sighed. You know, part vampyre, part mortal—whatever!—I think I just may be in love with you after all.

His quick release and silent strut back to the bed bothered her.

He faced her abruptly, as if presenting arms. Are you coming or not? he snapped.

What am I, just some object to you? Is this a mere game?

Viktor nodded. "Yes. Affairs of state will not allow us to wed, and we agreed to not let anything get in the way of our pleasure. That’s what it’s about. Nobody needs to know. No one will find out. We pleasure each other without formal commitment and in our secret chambers. Secret, Kristyana," he reminded her.

The chambermaid knows—

—she will lose her life if she utters a word or even hints anything of the sort to another soul. She’s a fae, a slave, and as good as dead.

Kristyana’s lips stretched upward into a taut arc. Yes, she muttered.

Why does that please you so much?

Kristyana shrugged. I’ve never liked her, that Sasha.

Viktor produced a wry grin. Sasha doesn’t have the look of a common woman.

Kristyana drew closer to the bed with an accusatory glare. "What is that supposed to mean? Anyway, it’s not so common to be a fae anymore."

She’s beautiful.

She’s beneath you.

Royalty isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, Viktor stated. He rubbed his chin. I’m rather fond of those creatures. It’s too bad your kind has a lust to kill them. There are so few left.

"My kind—pshaw! Suddenly you are only mortal, she snickered. Their blood is significantly more palatable and lends our kind increased lasting power. You know that! Besides, they’re too, oh-I-don’t-know, good, and, well, it doesn’t help to have all our males staring at that slave with interest when they should be looking at me." Kristyana turned her narrow nose upward.

So that’s it, isn’t it?

What?

The fact that you can’t have anyone fairer than you in your presence.

Oh, she expelled, so she’s not only beautiful but more so than me now, is that right, Viktor?

He laughed at her expense. Your fury is provoking. Get over here, he ordered.

Kristyana took the few steps toward Viktor, closing the gap. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, violating her with his mouth while she stared at the ceiling, unmoved.

No, there’s something about Sasha—that lowlife slave—that makes me uncomfortable, she stated with an absentmindedness.

Viktor lifted his head. Her purity more like it, he mumbled.

Yes... yes, that’s exactly right. It’s as if she can see all my secrets out in the open as if I wear them.

Well, she has seen some things we’ve done.

Kristyana managed to shake her head. No, it’s more than that. It’s as if she can see into my soul. I feel exposed. I do feel like a ghastly-of-a-woman when she’s near.

Viktor sighed, then propped himself up on an elbow. So you feel judged by her, this pure little waif? You know, faes believe in the one called The Messenger. He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. Supposedly, this leader guides them, and instructs them to live a holy life.

She glanced at him. I’ve heard of The Messenger, and his cause is a fallacy.

I didn’t say he existed or that I believed his way is true. He inspected his fingernails with nonchalance.

Kristyana sighed. What a sorry existence to pursue anyone like that—follow anyone but me, that is. Wouldn’t you agree? Of course you do. A slave is a slave is a slave. Her mouth twisted again into a single taunting line. Anyway, you don’t know for sure if she’s pure.

Viktor harrumphed. "It is painfully obvious that she is inexperienced in those matters. He rolled his eyes. I should like to be the one," he said with a most thoughtful air.

What? To defile her?

He