The Dark Heart: The French Fae Legend, #2

By Emma V Leech

The Prince Corin ... Decadent, seductive, master of the love affair.

Corin is crown prince of Alfheim, the Elven lands. Considered the handsomest man in the land, he is well used to the females in his life indulging his every desire. But after losing the first woman who ever touched his heart to his best friend, he swears he'll never let anyone get that close again.

Under pressure from his royal family to marry and produce an heir, he decides the only solution is to take a woman from the human realm, someone who poses no threat ... Someone he could never love.

Running from a fate that promises power and pain in equal measure, all he needs is for her to accept three gifts and she will be totally under his control. But sometimes hearts are not so easily managed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emma V Leech
• Release date: May 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201940287

Book preview

The Dark Heart

by Emma V. Leech

Copyright © 2016 Emma V Leech

Cover Design by Victoria Cooper

Published by Emma V Leech

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-1522708001

ISBN-10: 1522708006

ASIN:  B01AY17S6

No part of this book may be produced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including copying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, or dead is coincidental.

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

The Dark Deceit

Want more Emma?

About Me!

Other Works by Emma V. Leech

The Key to Erebus

The Rogue

Dying for a Duke

Acknowledgements

A picture containing text, map Description generated with very high confidence

"Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé."

You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.

Le Petit Prince.

By Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Chapter 1

C

orin felt the brush of a soft pair of lips against his cheek, the press of a naked, warm body against his back, but he kept his eyes firmly shut, his breathing even. He felt the sigh of the girl’s disappointment against his skin and it fluttered over him like most things did now; he was aware of it but it didn’t really touch him. Nothing could, not any more. He listened to the girl moving around his elegant bedroom, gathering her clothes in the dim light like the regrets she would likely find weighing on her conscience the moment she closed the bedroom door. He wished he could be moved to find some pity for her but his compassion appeared to be long since used up. He was done with feeling sorrow for another’s plight, had enough of feeling anything at all. All he wanted now was sedation, an anaesthetised indifference to everything. It was the only way to get through the day and shut out the demanding voices that plagued him and kept him awake at night. No matter how much he drank or how far he lost himself to the dark, they were still waiting for him when he came to; a little louder, a little more insistent.

He heard the soft whispering of silky underwear and the rustle of skirts as the girl got dressed and he saw the pale daylight edging around the curtains, faint and cautious, as if aware it was unwelcome. She would have to hurry to get down to the kitchens where she worked or the other girls would talk. He wondered if he would have to move her on. She had looked at him with too much affection and he couldn’t stand it when they cried.

Closing his eyes again as she moved towards him, he felt her gaze on him as he feigned sleep. He knew she was trying to find the courage to wake him and knew too she would leave without a word. Not because she wanted to, but because she knew he was done with her and she didn’t want to see it in his eyes. He wondered if he had always been so callous and had just hidden it better with gentle words and pretty lies. He had certainly never hated himself more.

The door shut and he opened his eyes. They felt dry, as if they’d been rolled in sand, and he closed them again. His head throbbed, a dull insistent ache which had become his usual prelude to the day. Generally he drank some more and went back to sleep until late afternoon. It was a routine of sorts.

Lighting the candelabra with a dismissive flick of his fingers he winced in the soft light it cast. With effort he reached an arm out of the bed and hunted for the black glass bottle he had left on the floor and picked it up, giving it a shake and cursing as he discovered it was empty. He let it drop from his fingers and it fell among his discarded clothes with a gentle thud. He groaned again as a soft knock rapped at the door, and wondered what the devil Alsten was playing at. His valet never usually disturbed him this early. He knew better.

Come, he said, laying his arm over his brow and praying the man had brought something for his head, ideally a full bottle.

Alsten came in bearing a tray. His elderly retainer navigated the darkened room with unerring surety, moving around stray boots and clothes and placing the tray down beside the bed where Corin gave it a scathing look.

That smells remarkably like peppermint tea, he said, his disgust perfectly illustrated by his tone of voice.

It is, your highness, Alsten replied with dignity.

Why, Alsten? Corin demanded. We have had a perfectly amicable working relationship since the day I was born, why spoil it now?

Your mother, sire. The cryptic reply was enough to give the old man Corin’s undivided attention. He stilled, looking uneasy.

What about her? he asked, his tone wary.

I regret to inform you ... The old man sounded apologetic. Queen Audrianne is on her way, sire.

The old man winced at Corin’s volley of profanities and handed over the cup, which was snatched from his grasp as the prince clambered out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. Well wasn’t this a splendid way to start the morning. It looked as though a perfectly miserable day was about to go to hell.

An hour later and Corin was staring out of the window at yet another unremarkable day. He watched grey clouds hanging over the beautiful gardens in front of the grand house that had been his childhood home and felt guilty at the treatment they had suffered from the recent weather. The gardens were usually a spectacular sight, but endless rainstorms and months without sun had taken their toll. The clouds pressed damp caresses upon the tree tops and hung so low to the ground he felt as though they would smother the land and him with it. It felt increasingly hard to breathe and he wondered if it really was possible to die of boredom. He glanced at the half empty bottle on the cabinet beside him and sighed. He didn’t dare have a drink. His mother coming to visit this morning was news enough to sober anyone. Besides, he needed his wits about him. The queen did not visit without good reason and he had a fair idea what her reasoning was likely to be. He very much doubted he was going to like it. He closed his eyes against the dull thud of his headache and wished he could go back to bed. Not that he wanted to sleep. Sleep brought dreams and they were worse than the voices. No, he wanted to drink himself into a comfortable stupor where his brain was too sodden to think at all. Maybe that way he’d hold onto his sanity a little longer.

It had been a particularly depressing week, which was really quite remarkable against the now familiar landscape of depressing weeks. The downwards spiral had been triggered by the arrival of an invitation to Laen and Océane’s wedding. Laen was prince of the Dark Fae and his estate bordered the part of Alfheim over which Corin had domain, being the only son of King Albrecht.

Laen had been his best friend since they were small children, but Corin would not be attending the wedding and no amount of persuasion was going to change his mind. He heard the sound of wheels on gravel and opened his eyes to watch his mother’s carriage drawing inexorably towards the house and wondered just how hard she was going to try.

He heard a commotion outside on the wide stone steps that led up to the main entrance, which was undoubtedly the sound of his wolves giving the queen a royal welcome. Corin stifled a smile; his mother hated them.

Get away from me, you idiotic creatures, she yelled as she entered the room in a sweep of stunted majesty. She cursed and tried to hold the skirts of her dress out of the way of their massive paws. Corin, control these wretched animals.

Corin gave a sharp whistle and the five wolves ran to their master’s command. He flicked his hand in the direction of the fire and they obediently sat down beside the hearth’s flickering warmth.

She glared at him, brushing hair and muddy paw marks off her silk dress. Well if they are that well trained, why did you let them run riot when I arrived?

They were just so pleased to see you, dearest.  He smiled at her as he bent down to caress the ears of one of the wolves who looked up at him adoringly.

Audrianne snorted with amusement at the idea. I can imagine. Just about as pleased as you are, I suspect.

Corin bit back a sarcastic comment and decided it was prudent to be polite rather than honest. Mother, my house is yours. You are always most welcome.

There was a sound of amused sarcasm that might have been a laugh and she narrowed her eyes at him. Pull the other one, my dear ... it’s got bells on.

Sighing heavily, Corin got to his feet and raised his eyebrows. You know I shall stop bringing you books from the human world if you are going to pick up such uncouth language. I cannot begin to imagine what they think of you at court.

Oh as if I give a damn. His mother chuckled unrepentantly and sat down in one of the large chairs by the fire, nudging a wolf’s tail gently out the way of her feet. She was still a stunning woman despite being over five hundred years old. In human terms she didn’t look a day over forty, with long, glossy chestnut brown hair styled in an elegant chignon, and wide brown eyes. The colouring was usual for the Elven race but she was considered one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom and took full advantage of the fact whenever she deemed it necessary. In a male-dominated land, she had not become queen simply by a chance of birth. A fact which Corin knew disgusted her on the one hand. At the same time however he had often seen her at work and knew damn well she got off on twisting powerful men around her finger simply because they desired her. She had married Corin’s father, the king, who had been bewitched by her startling beauty and had arranged the marriage with little consultation with his bride who was not only decades but centuries younger than him. She had been far more than the king had bargained for, however, and succeeded in wresting the power of the land from his grasp. He was still besotted and utterly in her thrall and she was now the sovereign. The king could do little but watch as she led her court by the nose and a good many of them via her bed.

So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company? he asked, deciding he’d rather get it over with quickly. Rather that than suffer the verbal games his mother delighted in while she wound him up to the point where he wanted to throw her bodily from the house.

She pulled off her fine leather gloves and fixed him with a steely expression that had been known to make lesser men gibber and shake with nerves. You know full well why I am here and don’t pretend you don’t.

He stood by the hearth and leaned one arm against the ornate, marble mantelpiece as the flames leapt higher up the chimney. He looked down at the fire and steeled himself for an argument. I’m not going.

What? Oh, that. She waved her hand dismissively. I know you won’t attend the wedding, she replied, sounding resigned to the point of boredom.

Corin looked up at her with suspicion. You mean you’re not going to try to blackmail me into going?

She raised her eyebrows, returning a haughty expression and looked down her nose at him with distaste. I do not blackmail, I merely ... persuade.

Corin gave a short bark of laughter which had his mother scowling at him. I’m sorry, mother, but I have seen the guard use more subtle means of persuasion than you.

She shrugged and arranged the deep red swathes of her dress into more agreeable drapes. She soothed the fine silk with her long, slim fingers as diamond rings sparkled in the firelight. And I have never known one of them to work on you, so I’m not about to waste my breath. Everybody knows why you’re not going anyway ... still moping around after that human girl.

Corin gave her a dark look, the gold of his eyes flashing amber with annoyance. I do not mope, he said, biting out the words.

Audrianne sighed and pursed her lips, looking him over carefully for a moment before she spoke. So you’re telling me this isn’t the first morning you’ve been awake, shaved, and sober for some months? she demanded, folding her arms and allowing her gaze to travel to the half empty black bottle on the drinks cabinet and pointedly back at her son.

That is a gross exaggeration, Corin lied. He turned his back on her and stared at the fire to stop himself casting another longing glance in the same direction.

Is it indeed? she said, and he heard the incredulity in her voice clearly enough. I don’t think so, and I am telling you it is time it stopped. He glanced up at her and gritted his teeth as she sat forward in her chair and pointed one perfectly manicured finger in his direction. There is nothing wrong with you or your heart. She was not the one for you and what’s more you know it.

Damn it, mother, he shouted while the flames blazed and sent white hot sparks dancing around the hearth as his anger flared. I will take a great deal from you, but do not presume to tell me what is in my heart.

She shook her head sadly before starting in on him again. My darling boy, I know you better than anyone else in this realm or the next and I know you did not truly love her. She watched him placidly, making no remark on the expressions of exasperation and incredulity that he knew were on his face.

How? he demanded, not bothering to moderate the anger in his voice. How can you possibly know that?

Her face softened and she reached forward and took his hand. Because she is not here.

That is because she loves Laen ... not me. Corin could not hide the bitterness of his words and as he looked down he saw the compassion on his mother’s face. He looked away again, pulling his hand from her grasp. The last thing he wanted or needed was pity or kindness, especially from her. It was unbearable.

To his surprise the queen laughed. Oh, Corin, if you had loved her enough nothing would have stopped you. You would not have cared about a war in the Fae Lands or anyone or anything else. If she had been your heart’s desire, nothing would have stood in your way. I know this, Corin ... I know you. That you didn’t fight for her speaks for your heart. Corin opened his mouth to protest but she held up her hand to silence him. I didn’t say you didn’t care for her or that you were not hurt but she wasn’t the one for you. That woman is still out there and you need to go and find her.

Corin shook his head. No. I don’t. The idea of letting anyone have the power to hurt him like that again was unthinkable. He would marry if he must but his wife would never have his heart.

Audrianne sighed and he watched the steely glint in her eyes with growing apprehension. Do I have to remind you that you are our only son and that we are growing old? She folded her arms and he knew damn well what was coming next. You have to provide the kingdom with an heir.

I am well aware of my obligations, he snapped, making the wolves look up at him. Varg, the alpha, sat up and gave a low growl but Corin hushed him. He stroked the big male’s head as he leaned into Corin, his eyes closing with bliss, the massive wolf’s solid presence a comfort to him as he sank his fingers into the wiry fur.

Are you though? his mother demanded, bringing his attention squarely back to the matter at hand.

Corin tried to take a breath but his lungs seemed to have turned to stone in his chest. The image of a small boy who looked just like him filled his mind and he felt his chest ache. Yes, mother, he said, his voice low and resigned to this fate at least. I am fully aware of my obligations and I will provide you with a future queen and an heir in the fullness of time.

Audrianne stood and walked over to him and a familiar uncompromising expression in her eyes bode ill. No, my son, your time is up. Your father and I are tired of waiting for you to settle down, as are our people. You will find a bride now. You have three weeks to announce the engagement or we will do it for you.

He caught his breath. His mother had never failed to surprise him with just how far she would go to get her own way. This though ... He looked at her with undisguised horror. You wouldn’t!

She smiled at him but it was a hard look, the one she gave when she was going to give him a spell in the palace cells for defying her at court - for his own good. If you do not do it yourself then yes I will, and I might add that does not include seducing the staff or any other pretty face that takes your fancy in your usual manner, you are looking for a suitable wife who is capable of bearing you sons. Otherwise your father and I have the power under Elven law to choose for you.

That law goes back to the beginning of time! he raged as the fire in the hearth roared up the chimney and thunder exploded over the great house. Varg shifted next to him, his eyes on the queen and his lips drawn back in a silent snarl. Corin was more than tempted to give him the nod.

Audrianne looked at the wolf and then at Corin, her face impassive even though he had no doubt she was aware of his train of thought. She was as adept at reading people as he was. Nonetheless, she said with a tight smile, it is still legal, and do please try and control yourself. Why you cannot keep a tighter rein on your magic I do not know.

He ignored the accustomed dig at his control, too furious to focus on anything but her ultimatum. If you do that, he warned her, his voice vibrating with suppressed anger, I will never forgive you. He had suffered much at the hands of his mother, forever being dragged into some nefarious plot or other but that she should blackmail him into marriage ...

His mother sighed, and her expression changed. Suddenly she was all softness and pretty sparkling eyes and he turned away in disgust. He had seen the routine too many times to fall for it. I don’t want to do it, my darling, she said with regret. If you go and find yourself someone then I won’t interfere further. Her voice hardened and he gave a bitter laugh, knowing she would continue to interfere in his life until the day she died. But if you continue to wallow in self-pity you simply give me no choice.

He gave her a scathing look. So you did come here to blackmail me after all. He headed for the bottle and snatched up a glass. He was now far from caring what she thought of him and so he poured out a large measure, the black liquid glinting red as it splashed up the sides.

I wouldn’t call it blackmail, she said, watching him knock back the drink with distaste. But I’ll tell you what is ...

He froze with the bottle still in his hand and looked at her, foreboding growing with every second. Mother ... what have you done?

The queen laughed and snatched the bottle away before he could refill his glass; she rushed to open the window and poured it outside where it gushed in a black puddle onto the sodden ground.

No! Don’t ... Corin blanched and reached to grab it from her but was too late. Gods, mother. That was over two hundred years old, he shouted. Now stop trying to aggravate the hell out of me and tell me what in damnation you’re up to.

Audrianne gave him a smug smile as she closed the window again and set the bottle down. Oh nothing much. She pursed her lips and looked innocent, which was enough to alarm him before she even opened her mouth. I just invited Elswyth to come and stay with you. I told her you needed ... looking after.

Corin felt his jaw drop open. You did what? he croaked, as horror seemed to have stolen his voice.

Yes. The queen laughed at his appalled expression, quite unrepentant. In fact I think she should arrive with her chaperone ... oh, in an hour or so.

Of all the low ... Corin began to think of a lot of things he would like to say to his darling mother but if what she said was true, then time was of the essence. I can’t believe even you would do such a wicked thing to me. He headed for the door, wrenching it open and yelling down the corridor. Alsten! Pack my things ... immediately! I’m leaving in twenty minutes.

His mother chuckled. Well, my darling, I shall leave you to get ready and your father and I will look forward to meeting our future daughter-in-law in due course. 

Corin cursed under his breath as thunder rumbled over the house. Audrianne seemed oblivious to his temper, however, and walked up to him with a sweet smile. Corin dutifully kissed her proffered cheek, all the while staring daggers at her. She walked to the door and opened it and then paused. By the way, darling, I hear the countess was quite delighted by your ... attentions.

Corin grimaced. I’m so relieved she was satisfied, he said with disgust.

Audrianne nodded, apparently heedless to his discomfort. It seems that she was so pleased she persuaded the count to change his mind about signing the agreement. Isn’t that good news?

Corin stared down at the hearth, at the flames dancing as they consumed the dry logs with voracity, and wondered how long it would take to burn his own body to nothing more than cinders, as it was in his dreams. I am simply thrilled for you, mother, he replied, his voice dead and empty of emotion. He needed a drink. He needed to numb himself until none of this mattered a damn.

He heard her bid him goodbye and walk away and he crossed the room, slamming the door hard behind her as she departed.

He stared at the door for a moment and not for the first time wished he had been born to one of the farmer’s families. He could have worked in the stables ... it was an old and familiar daydream and one he and Laen had often played at as children. Pretending they were brothers with no one watching with expectations of them being future kings. Free to live their lives as they wanted. He snapped himself out of his reverie, remembering Elswyth was on her way. Wrenching the door open again, he took the stairs two at a time, cursing under his breath. He had to get out of here and fast, before he was submitted to the tender mercies of a waspish woman who had been determined to reform and then marry him since they were children.

He would take refuge in the human world where she would not follow and if his parents wanted him to find a wife ... well he may as well get it over with while he was there. He’d find a girl and use all the Elven tricks at his disposal to bring her to the Fae Lands where he would explain the deal, and it would be exactly that, a business arrangement ... and he had just the girl in mind.

Chapter 2

C

orin closed his eyes and savoured the warmth of the sun against his skin. It seemed like forever since he had felt its touch and he sighed, blinking as the bright light left patterns dancing behind his eyelids. Guilt for his brief moment of pleasure was swift as he remembered that those who lived within the borders of his realm would still be suffering the grey skies and storms that his emotions subjected the land to. To be Fae meant being tied to the land in every way. To be royalty meant that your every emotion was illustrated, displayed like an adolescent’s Tumblr stream for all and sundry to view and comment on, unless you held enough emotional control to keep it at bay; a trick Corin had never learned. He felt things too keenly to be able to keep his emotions dulled. At least in the human realm he could keep his feelings from those who dwelt here.

The gate flickered behind him as the Fae Lands snapped out of view. He wished he could leave the pull of it behind him too. The pain behind his eyes sharpened as the gate shut, and he hissed with pain, clutching at his head as the insidious voices whispered to him, calling for him to go home - to take what should be his.

He fumbled through his jacket pockets until he found the small silver flask and with fingers that trembled he undid the lid and downed the contents. He sat down with a thud as the dry meadow grass rustled beneath him and willed the voices to quiet down. They were getting angrier by the day. He had no choice. He was going to have to visit the witch.

AS HE APPROACHED THE garden surrounding the old stone cottage he felt the wards begin to flare and flicker against his skin. He didn’t make a sound as he approached, but he knew she sensed him. Their magics sparked against each other, power drawn to power.

Inés Corbeaux did not look up as he approached, her head bent, and long, raven black hair shining like a gleaming petrol spill under the blaze of sunlight. She was working in her herb garden, kneeling on a cushion on the dry earth as her tanned skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat under the sultry heat. She twisted the weeds out of the ground with fine, long fingers and he tried not to notice the slim waist and the soft curve of her backside hugged by the cut-off denim shorts that just about covered her behind. She looked young and as fresh as the green shoots of the plants she tended, though the truth was rather different. Most people would have a great deal of trouble believing she was actually a grandmother. In fact she was far older than him by centuries and powerful too. He waited, silent, and in the end she sat back on her heels, looking up at him with those fierce green eyes, emerald and calculating.

"Bonjour, your highness, she said with a slow smile, her eyes sliding over his body with undisguised approval. I wondered how long you would last. You must be desperate indeed to come here though. Or have you decided to end it all?"

He laughed and returned her glance, his eyes lingering on the skimpy bikini top that clung to her damp skin.

Am I really such a feeble creature in your eyes? Besides, the vampire king is dead is he not? Surely my banishment is the last thing his family would be concerned by.

She reached out and snapped off a sprig of mint and the sharp clean smell drifted up to him as she rubbed the leaves between her palms. And you think Jéhenne wouldn’t kill you just as fast?

The magic still holds her memories then, he said, keeping his voice even so she would not detect his disappointment.

She tilted her head to one side, her catlike gaze watchful. She has no idea of what you did for her, that you saved her and nearly lost your life doing so. She still believes you tried to trick her, abduct her ... worse.

He gritted his teeth and forced a smile. As it should be. It is what I arranged after all.

Inés got to her feet and waved her hand and a shower of sparks glittered around the perimeter of her garden as the wards fell.

I know though, she said, her voice soft and beguiling as she stepped towards him. I know what you did for her. She stood close to him and he forced himself not to step away despite the way his magic pulled him nearer, wanting to get closer to the source of her power. She both repulsed and attracted him. She was beautiful, seductive and utterly ruthless as he knew to his cost. Her hands smoothed over his chest and his eyes fell to her lips and the delicate pink tongue that wet them as she looked up at him through thick black lashes. You can stay with me if you want. I’ll make sure the vampires don’t know you are here. You’ll be safe.

He tipped back his head and laughed, genuinely amused. Safe! He shook his head and stepped away from her. Thank you, darling, but I shall take my chances with the vampires.

She pouted at him. Lucky for you that Jéhenne has other things on her mind or maybe I would tell her you are here just to see what she would do to you. She pursed her lips, considering. Maybe she’d give you to me, she mused as desire darkened her green eyes.

I suggest you forget your little games, Inés. We both know you owe me a debt of honour - for what that is worth to you. He stepped closer and allowed his power to wrap about her, the magic hissing and crackling in the heated air around them. Inés gasped and her eyes widened. Things change, Inés, and my powers are way beyond anything you remember. I will not be your plaything again.

She smiled at him, delighted, and slid her arms around his neck, her fingers sinking into his long, thick hair. Oh, really? Soft lips moved over his cheek. "Alors, how do you propose to pay for your potion then? She looked up at him, her heavy-lidded eyes cold and amused. That is why you are here, after all ... Isn’t it? She kissed his neck and nipped at the skin, her teeth as sharp as her intentions. She calls so very loud now ... doesn’t she?"

He grimaced inwardly but kept his face placid. I’ll pay double what I did last time.

She just smiled at him again and shook her head. "Non, chéri, this time there is no Jéhenne to make me play nicely. This time you will give me what I want. She gave him a wicked smile. I’ll even send you a box of the hangover cure, to soothe your pride."

Three times the price. He hated his obvious desperation but he had to try even though he knew she wouldn’t change her mind. She would make him serve her. Prince or no ... she would use him, like so many others did.

Inés shook her head and he knew it was pointless. He didn’t really know why he fought it so hard - except that he hated to be used against his will.

What’s the matter, your highness, you’re not scared of the wicked witch are you? she taunted. He cursed and grabbed hold of her hair, twisting it in his hand and pulling her head back as his other hand tightened around her throat.

"Perhaps it is you that should be afraid this time, chérie," he whispered close to her ear.

Her hand slid over his arm and covered the hand at her throat. Oh, I do hope so. She chuckled, her face alight with excitement. He let go of her in disgust and she stumbled away from him, still laughing.

He turned and headed towards the cottage. Let’s get it over with then, he said, pushing the door of the cottage open and looking back at her over his shoulder. Come along, Inés. Time is money, darling, and even whores hate to be kept waiting.

A NIGHTINGALE’S SWEET voice drifted on the warm night air. Its melancholy song, as it filtered through the open window, was soft and sorrowful and filled the darkness of the bedroom with caressing notes that spoke of lost love and heartache. The evening was soft and still, the night creatures joining in with their own chorus and the sounds drifting from outside were romantic and lovely and seemed only to highlight the sordidness of his situation. Corin sighed as he heard the more prosaic sound of the shower shutting off next door and closed his eyes as Inés reappeared a few moments later. He was tired to his bones but he didn’t dare sleep here. He kept his eyes shut anyway in the dim hope that she would believe he was asleep and leave him be, but the bed dipped beside him and the sheet was flung back, exposing him. His eyes flickered open to see her looking him over like a prize bull.

Want to check my teeth, mistress? he asked with a sneer, baring them for her.

Oh, I know they’re good and sharp, she replied, sounding a little breathless and crawling over him to sit astride his hips. Her hand reached forward to touch his mouth with a fingertip and he bit down hard on the tender pad, making her curse and draw in a breath. He released her and her hand continued on its path, down his chest, down between his legs to cup him and caress.

Haven’t you had your money’s worth yet? he demanded, cursing his traitorous body as he stiffened once more under her touch.

She laughed and lowered her mouth to his chest where she planted a kiss. But what I give you is unique. No one else can drive that nasty voice from your head, now can they? Her eyes settled on him, smug and far too knowing. I doubt anyone else even knows ... do they? She laughed as he offered no response. "Non, I didn’t think so. So surely that deserves a little ... extra effort."

He groaned despite himself as her hand worked. He had deliberately kept his magic in check, knowing that was what she wanted - the heightened sensations that made everything more intense as their powers coiled together. His annoyance increased as she laughed at him and he knew it was futile, she would get what she wanted in the end. Gods, I hate you, he choked out, closing his eyes.

Oh, I don’t think you do, not really. She tightened her grasp on him, possessive, and he drew in a sharp breath. You just hate the fact we are alike.

He opened his eyes and glared at her. We are nothing alike.

She sighed and leaned down, her hair trailing against his skin. Oh? She brushed her lips over his. And yet we both know that love is dangerous, that it makes you weak. Corvus loved Jéhenne and he sacrificed himself to save her. So now he burns in Tartarus and she will never be whole again unless she gets him back. I lost the one man I loved and the pain of it nearly destroyed me. I’ll not suffer that again. And you ... You run from your father’s fate and the fear that a woman could steal your heart and destroy you as he has been ruined by your mother. She removed her hand and moved up his body, settling herself over him, sliding her slick skin against him until he gritted his teeth, trying not to give her the satisfaction of hearing him moan under her touch again. So we take our pleasure where we can and those who despise us for it can go to hell ... and that includes you by the way, she whispered against his ear before tilting her head back on a groan as she ground herself against him.

Shaking his head in disbelief he grasped her hips so hard she would bear the marks in the morning. You think I dislike you for being a slut? He laughed as she scowled down at him. Oh, darling, it takes more than that to earn my displeasure. Holding her tightly he moved against her and she closed her eyes, their heated skin burning and glossy with her desire. I am not such a hypocrite as some men. He moved suddenly and threw her onto her back, his strong hands pinning her down by her wrists. No, no, darling. I don’t hate you for that, he whispered in her ear. I hate you for the way you use people. You know I don’t want to be here with you but I need what you can give me and so I have no choice. How can you stand it? How can you be here with me knowing how much I despise it? How many others have you forced to sell their honour at a price?

She smiled up at him and raised her hips, grinding them against him and grinning smugly as he responded and caught his breath. "Oh but that is the thing, mon amour," she said as she writhed beneath him. It’s only you I treat in such a way ... because you believe at heart you deserve it. You may have power, you may be the heir to the throne, but you know you are just as much a whore as your mother. You just charge more than the kind who wait on street corners ... and so I win.

She winced and closed her eyes as his anger flared and seared her skin, blinding her with its white heat. He would take no more of this. He touched the wooden bedpost with his magic and fresh new shoots snaked out of the antique wood and wrapped tightly around her wrists, wrenching her arms apart as she gasped. He let go of her as the bindings held her in place, and knelt between her legs, grabbing hold of her knees and spreading them wide. Well then, I had better make sure you get value for money. I would hate it said I make a bad bargain, after all.

The sound of her laughter rang in his ears and he cursed her to Tartarus and back, but all the while ... he knew she was right.

HE DRESSED IN THE DARK, feeling her eyes on him.

You don’t have to go. I will let you sleep in peace, you have my word. Her voice was soft and lethargic and he believed her, but tired as he was he would not stay a moment longer. His flesh crawled and he longed to wash the heady scent of her from his skin but he’d do it in his own home. He wondered why it bothered him so much. It never used to ... not like this. He’d made his way via more beds than he could possibly remember but since Océane ... he slammed the brakes on that train of thought. He was depressed enough as it was.

Where is it? he demanded.

His keen eyes saw her well enough even in the darkness as she gestured to the bedside cupboard, her sly grin only irritating him further. I knew you’d arrive sooner or later. She shifted onto her side under the covers. "I’ll send a box of the hangover cure to your house, d’accord?"

Whatever.

He opened the drawer, snatched up the bottle and turned to leave but she grasped hold of his wrist. I never thanked you ...

Save it.

She snorted and shook her head. "Non, not for tonight. For what you did for Jéhenne. You’re right, I do owe you a debt. You saved her, you put yourself at risk for her. I would do anything for my granddaughter and I won’t forget it. You are a good man, despite your faults ... or maybe because of them. I believe you’ll be a fine king one day. She sighed with content and stretched, as luxurious as a cat. I’ll do my best to make sure the vampires do not know you’re here. You have my word."

He looked at her, but didn’t answer, just closed the door behind him. He didn’t want her gratitude, didn’t care for her opinion or her help, though he would rather have her on his side than against him, whatever the reason. She was a dangerous enemy.

He walked out into the night and took a breath. The air was sweet and damp. The pine trees that jutted, piercing the horizon like monstrous black teeth against the night sky, filled his senses with their cleansing aroma. He breathed deeply, as though he hoped the scent could absolve his mind and body of sin and regret from the inside out. Either way it was a blessed relief after the musky smell of the bedroom, redolent of sex and desperation. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. The whispering voices murmured in his head, though Her voice was always there, always loudest. He smoothed his hand over the glass bottle and had to force himself to wait until he got home. The stuff not only tasted foul but made him sick as a dog. It did give him some peace in his own mind though, and he would pay any price for that. The fact that he would spend the next twelve hours throwing up his guts was a small price to pay.

THE EARTH WAS BEARING down on him, gritty and damp, filling his mouth and his nose, pressing his eyes closed. He choked and gagged, scrabbling frantically against the weight of soil, clawing away at the earth until his head broke the surface only to discover the whole world was on fire. He pulled himself free of the smothering ground and looked for a way out, but there was none and the flames crept closer, consuming him with the landscape, burning his skin until it blistered, until he was blazing along with everything else, until the marrow in his bones began to sizzle and boil ...

Corin woke, sweating - gasping for air. His frantic eyes scanned the room, his body taut, fingers snatching at the bed sheets, expecting flames and acrid smoke, but the only thing illuminating the room was the soft light of the afternoon sun reflecting on the polished wood floor. He pulled himself upright on the crisp cotton sheets, hearing his heart thundering in his ears, and tried to reassure himself it was just a dream. Just a dream ... he could hear the cicadas chirping in the grass outside, the frogs down by the lake singing their joyous, sunny afternoon chorus ... just a dream. He looked at his hands, at the skin on his arms and found it smooth and unblemished though he could still feel the flames as they licked at his limbs like dry tinder, the greedy fire devouring him until nothing but ashes remained, scattered by the wind on a barren landscape.

He reached for the black glass bottle by the side of the bed and removed the cork with his teeth, spitting it to the floor and drinking, pouring the fierce liquid down his throat until the fire in his bones had nothing to do with the dream and everything to do with the alcohol that flooded his veins. His stomach clenched in rebellion, still sore and unforgiving after the potion had taken its toll. He lay back against the headboard and closed his eyes and it was then that he noticed it. Peace.

He was alone in his own head once again. The dream was forgotten as a smile of relief crossed his face and he breathed deeply and then started as there was a soft knock on the bedroom door. He frowned. His staff had come ahead of him and he had left instructions for them to leave as soon as the house had been prepared for his stay. Stubborn to the last, Alsten had ignored him.

Come. The door opened and Alsten entered the room bearing a tray. Corin sighed. Alsten, I am quite sure I told you to go home.

Alsten nodded and set the tray down with care, before pouring out a cup of coffee and handing it to Corin, who took it - there was really no point in arguing.

Indeed, you did, sire. However, you seemed to be a trifle ... under the weather last night as we were preparing to leave and so I took the liberty of staying on.

Corin shook his head, looking at the old man with affection. Alsten, you know perfectly well that you hate it gateside and I am quite capable of looking after myself, I assure you.

Alsten gave him a look that suggested he believed otherwise and Corin laughed. However I do thank you kindly for your concern. I am touched, but really you must leave now. Alsten bent and picked up Corin’s discarded clothes, folding them with care though his expression was one of obvious distaste, he looked upon the clothing for this world as a personal affront. Come now, my dear fellow. You know my wardrobe for the human world gives you the blue devils and it will do me good to fend for myself. Then I will appreciate you all the more on my return.

Alsten sniffed and opened the wardrobe doors with a look of deep distress. Corin sighed. The last thing he wanted was to offend the old man but he did not want him to stay. He decided he would go for honesty. It was the only thing that might work without making the fellow sulk.

Alsten selected the item he was looking for and stood beside the bed looking discretely away as he held out a black silk dressing gown, and Corin’s plans for sleeping the rest of the afternoon were hijacked.

Corin allowed him to slip the dressing gown over his broad shoulders and walked away while tying the belt in place. He looked out of the window at the carefully tended garden and a bright blue sky as Alsten moved around tidying the room.

Do you know why I’m here, Alsten? he asked, not looking around.

Yes, sire.

He opened the windows wide and stepped out onto the balcony for a moment, squinting as the sun seared his eyes and made his head pound. He stepped back indoors and picked up his coffee cup again. I am not going to be behaving terribly well over the next week or so - rather worse than usual at any rate, he amended with a wry smile. I have something I must do, whether I want to or not and ... and I would much rather not have you or anyone else around to witness that. Do you understand?

Sire, perhaps ... The old man hesitated. If you spoke to her again ... Their eyes met and Corin had no need to explain the futility of that hope. The old man nodded. Of course, sire. I quite understand. We will be gone as soon as all is as it should be.

Corin smiled, knowing that was as good as it was going to get and then frowned. We?

Felice is with me, sire. She stayed on as she thought you may ... Alsten cleared his throat. Have need of her.

Corin turned away to hide a grin. Yes, yes, quite right. I should get rid of these plaits and such, not really the thing here. Perhaps she should cut it too? he mused, looking at his long hair in the mirror. Alsten looked scandalised but said nothing on the subject. In Alfheim the style for men was for long hair, often with a few tiny plaits worked in with coloured threads, sometimes with jewels or beads for more formal occasions. Felice had taken care of this work for the past two years. Along with other, more ... intimate attentions.

I will send her up directly.

Corin watched the old man go and finished his coffee before removing the dressing gown and throwing it carelessly over the back of a chair. It looked like he would get an afternoon in bed after all.

Chapter 3

C

orin rolled his eyes. All right, all right, if it means so much to you!

The storm of tears stopped abruptly and the little brunette who was crouched at his feet leapt up and threw herself at his neck. For a relatively small woman she was remarkably strong and knocked him backwards onto the bed as she covered his face with kisses.

He laughed and pushed her off so that she was lying beside him. I’m not Sampson you know, darling, I won’t be reduced to a mere mortal if you cut off my hair.

She pouted, her pretty brown eyes narrowing at him. I do not know who this Sampson fellow is but I do know I will be despised by every female in Alfheim if I cut off your hair!

Oh, don’t exaggerate, he said, shaking his head and smiling with amusement. Besides, most human males have their hair short.

Felice huffed at him. "I am not exaggerating, you are not human, and you are certainly not most men!"

Corin raised his eyebrows. I find I am unwilling to argue with that statement so I suppose we will leave it as it is.

He was rewarded with a squeal and another kiss and moved to settle himself over her so that they were both more comfortable. He had broken off the kiss and was about to suggest she divest herself of the dress when he caught a sorrowful look in her eyes. One of the reasons Felice had stayed in his employ for so long when other female staff were moved around fairly rapidly was that she had no silly romantic notions about him. She knew he wasn’t offering anything other than what was given and she never sulked or behaved as if she had any sort of claim to him, so the look was a little unsettling.

What is it? he asked. She hesitated and he held her chin in his fingers, fixing her with the intensity of his gaze. Come, come, Felice, you are not one to be coy.

Will things change now? she asked, tangling her clever little fingers in his thick hair. If you are bringing home a wife.

Oh. He smiled at her, understanding, and shook his head. No. Why ever should they? I mean you will likely have to stay away for the first week while I get her settled and after that ... Well, obviously discretion will be called for in such matters but no ... He bent his head and kissed her neck and smiled against her skin as she drew in a breath. No, darling, nothing will change. His lips travelled over her honey gold skin, his tongue dipping into the valley between her breasts as his hand found the hem of her long skirts. His fingers slipped beneath the silky fabric to slide over equally satiny skin and discover the wet warmth between her legs that more than illustrated her desire for him, had any further proof been required. She knew better than to wear any undergarments to get in his way. He strongly disapproved. She moaned and closed her eyes arching under his touch.

I was going to ask if you missed me but I think you have answered the question quite admirably, he said, nipping at her ear as she squirmed. Tell me what you want, he whispered. She opened her eyes, the pupils dilated, and her hand reached up to touch his mouth.

This, she murmured.

He kissed her mouth again, a gentle brush of lips. Like this, he asked, smiling, knowing exactly what she had meant.

She pouted at him and he laughed. I can’t help feeling you just like to see your prince on his knees for you. He moved to the floor and put his hands on her ankles, smoothing his palms up her skin and lifting her skirts at the same time. He heard her sigh of anticipation and moved to press a kiss against her inner thigh as her legs opened wide for him. Wanton creature, he said, the approval a deep growl in his voice as his mouth returned to her skin.

With slow and torturous attention, he made his way to the apex of her thighs, running his tongue along the crease with deliberate care. She squirmed beneath him but he simply moved his attentions to her other thigh and began all over again, ignoring her protests. When he returned to the same point, his hands slid under her backside to grasp her hips and with a sharp tug pulled her to the very edge of the bed. This time her protests were heard and his mouth settled against the part of her that was truly screaming for his attention. She moaned, sinking her fingers into his hair and arching into him, but he was far too practised to give her any relief just yet. With a care that kept her teetering on the edge of ecstasy so that the pleasure he gave bordered on torment, he listened with amusement to her pleas and demands and ignored everyone. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling in angry frustration as she accused him of cruelty. He laughed against her skin, his breath cool