Authors: Lexi Johnson
Tags: #interracial, #Paranormal, #Romance;BWWM;urban, #fantasy, #Romance, #novels
Birds and Prey
Book 2 of the Elven Claimed Series
A BWWM Paranormal Erotic Romance
by
Lexi Johnson
This is Book 2 of the Elven Claimed Series, a serialized novel consisting of five parts:
The Elven King
,
Birds and Prey
, and
An Elven Storm Books 1-3
. You can also pick up all 5-Books at a significant discount with the
Elven Claimed Series Boxed Set
.
Published by SF Buzz Press © 2014
Copyright © 2014 by Lexi Johnson
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
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Chapter 8: Seduction of Memory
Chapter 11: The Moonlight Prince
Chapter 12: Wind Dancer’s Choice
Wind swept from the peaks of the Hell’s Teeth, up through the red and gold leaves of the treetops that housed the elven court of Edenost.
To Lady Sade, known to most as Laire’s Pet or sometimes Little Bird, the wind seemed an endless weeping. She woke to the wind’s sobs, ate and performed her duties as Princess Lairelithoniel’s handmaiden in the whisper of the wind’s lament, and, when, she curled up at night in a sumptuous pile of pillows at the foot of the princess’s bed, the wind haunted Sade’s dreams.
Though the wind frightened her, she also found it comforting. It was the only constant in her life here. And, while she didn’t understand why the wind mourned, she empathized with its pain, as she carried a similar, nameless wound in her own heart.
Princess Lairelithoniel -- or Laire, as most called her -- had commanded Sade to be dressed appropriately for the midmorning feast.
Sade stood in the center of the princess’s dressing chamber, while the lower courtiers swept around her, a flock of crows ordering Sade to move this way and that as they draped her in silk and jewels. She would have preferred to eat from her tray in the princess’s rooms, rather than be put on display in the Great Hall at the princess’s feet. Though Sade had been told her place as Laire’s handmaiden was one of honor, there was always a cruelty in the princess’s smiles, and an edge to her compliments that made Sade feel small.
She wished she could remember her life before the court -- before Edenost. But, the few times she’d dared ask, Laire had waved Sade’s concerns away, while the other elves had looked on with fear or pity, and said nothing.
“Oh, Little Bird, this will be so lovely in your hair!” Melda, differentiated from the others only by the shock of white running through her long, thick braid, held a jeweled comb in front of Sade’s eyes.
“Thank you,” Sade said. She was grateful for the kindness. None of the others even attempted to explain what they were doing, and, unlike those of the princess, Melda’s eyes didn’t shine with mirth whenever Sade felt confused or out of place.
Melda nodded. She pushed the comb into Sade’s short, thick curls.
Sade knew she didn’t look like the other elves. They were tall, with skin as pale as moonlight on water, black eyes with no differentiation between pupil and iris, and ears that drew up to tapered points. In contrast, Sade was brown, with a round face, round ears, and thick, wild brown curls.
Just as Melda set the last comb in Sade’s hair, and another elf tied the dress into place, the princess entered.
“Oh!” Laire said, raising her hand to her throat in an expression of delight. “Yes, that is almost perfect!”
The courtiers stepped back as the Princess Laire approached. They didn’t chatter amongst themselves as they had before; instead they huddled together in expectant silence.
“Yes…”
Laire cupped Sade’s face in both of her palms. As always, the princess’s touch sent pleasure through Sade’s body, making the inside of her pussy throb with need. “Your face is perfect,” Laire said, “and I love how the gold brings some vibrancy to your skin. It is quite lovely and soft.” She rubbed her thumb over Sade’s cheek. “If I could figure out how, I’d have this exact texture for my pillows.”
Trembling, Sade forced a smile.
As good as the princess’s touch felt, Sade hated it when Laire came this close to her. The pleasure beat a sharp counterpoint to the unending pain in Sade’s chest, and she had trouble breathing.
“But…” Laire tightened her grip and squinted at Sade’s lips. “What is this color? Burnished copper?! My pet needs something brighter, you fool!”
Laire released Sade’s jaw, leaving Sade breathless, her body a confused mix of alarm, disappointment, and relief.
The princess crooked her finger toward the group of courtiers. One stepped forward as though against her will. She held the errant stick of copper coloring in her hand.
“My apologies, my princess,” the elf said. She was small and pale. Her entire face was covered by a wave of inky hair, as she threw herself to her knees in front of Laire.
“Did you mean to shame me, Naira?” Laire let go of Sade’s face, and rested a hand atop the prostrate elf’s head. “Was that your plan? To make a fool of me?”
“No, princess! I swear by all the Gods! No!”
Laire ran her fingers through Naira’s thick, black hair, and Naira winced.
Laire said: “Then you are simply a sightless fool? With no understanding of beauty?”
“Yes,” Naira cried. “Yes, yes! Please -- ”
“Well,” Laire said, interrupting her as calmly as if she didn’t matter at all, “then we’ll simply have to find another use for you. Perhaps it would be best if you were to spend some time entertaining the birds.”
A strangled gasp came from the group of courtiers. Naira began to weep openly.
In Sade’s short time here in the Edenost court, she had seen one other be given over to ‘entertain the birds.’ The offending elf had been chained, naked, in iron, overlooking a busy passage, in easy sight of the courtiers passing below. He’d hung there for days while the birds fed upon his living flesh.
Sade had never known the man’s offense, and had never seen him again, but she suspected he’d been put to work in the kitchens, like the other faceless drudges who scurried between the stoves in shapeless brown sacks, their faces and limbs ever hidden.
Aside from Melda, Sade wasn’t fond of these elves who nominally served her -- but none of them deserved this.
“Take her,” Laire said. She pointed to two of the other courtiers.
“Wait!” Sade shouted.
The princess looked at Sade with an air of surprise, as though she were a piece of furniture that had somehow discovered speech. “Yes, my pet?” she said.
Sade was shaking now too. The princess had as much power over her as over any in the court. But Laire had treated Sade with relative kindness… so far.
“It was me,” Sade said. “I asked for the copper. I thought it was pretty.”
“You?” Laire’s mouth screwed up in a furious grimace.
The expression swept over her features for only a second. Then she was smiling again. “How clever, pet! You chose the color?”
Sade nodded. It wasn’t a very good lie. But then again, elves were terrible at parsing out lies. “Please, don’t hurt her.” That much, Sade could beg sincerely.
Laire sighed deeply. “Of course, my pet,” she said, patting Sade’s cheek absently. Each brief touch forced pleasure through Sade’s body. “I wouldn’t punish her for something that clearly was not her responsibility.”
Laire looked down at Naira, who was still weeping in the other elves’ arms.
“Let her go,” she said. “And all of you, leave us. Return to your duties.”
The courtiers fled in a fluttering of hair and silk, leaving Sade and Laire alone together.
“You have a kind heart,” Laire said, wrinkling her nose as she said it. “But perhaps that is because you are carrying so much pain.”
“Princess?”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Little Bird, how you weep into your pillows when you believe I’m sleeping. When you came to us from the Sidhe, you were suffering a deep wound of the soul. We gave you to our best healers, but the best they could do was make you forget.”
Laire’s gaze was faraway, and Sade listened, barely breathing as the princess spoke.
“That oath-breaker whom I was promised to marry -- Prince Aranion -- is the source of your despair,” murmured Laire.
“Aranion?” Saying the name made Sade feel warmer somehow. And at the same time, that place in her chest -- the soul-wound, as Laire had explained it -- ached sharply.
“Yes. The Bright Court and Edenost have been at war for millennia. But, with our marriage, Aranion and I had the power to bring peace to our peoples. He stood with me before the Gods and our fathers, and promised that we would wed.” Laire sounded more sorrowful than angry.
“But,” she went on, “instead, he betrayed our oath. His betrayal hurt me, but the wound that he caused you was far deeper. I cannot say for sure -- because I didn’t witness it -- but I assume he made you similar promises. And you’re a mortal, and thus prone to foolish fancies.” Laire’s voice was almost tender.
“There’s no shame that you believed him. The shame is Aranion’s. But, in spite of our greatest magics, the bond you share still bleeds. And it will destroy you.”
Destroy her? Sade couldn’t imagine allowing a stranger’s promises to injure her in this way. But it was true that the wound was there. It hovered in the space between her lungs, sometimes aching, sometimes burning… and sometimes, in the middle of the night, filling her with such sorrow and longing that she felt like throwing herself off the edge of the princess’s chamber, and letting the wind dash her against the ground.
“I…” she tried to say, but stumbled over her tongue. “How would…”
Laire took both of Sade’s hands, and looked down at the mortal, her black eyes glistening.
“I don’t blame you,” Laire said. “The Sidhe make a game of tempting mortals. You couldn’t have known he had made promises elsewhere when he said he loved you. But now” – he voice became intense – “I have found a way for us both to have our revenge. A way for you to end your pain forever. But, it will require that you be very brave. Will you do this for me, Little Bird? Will you do this for yourself?”
Sade was overwhelmed. In these past few minutes, she had learned more about herself and her past than in all of the time since she had awakened in the princess’s bed.
And Princess Laire, when she showed her own pain, was less frightening. Maybe, after all, the princess wasn’t as cruel as she seemed. She had never laid a hand in anger on Sade. Never hurt her, not even pulling at her hair when Laire combed
it late at night, before Sade used her hands and tongue to bring her princess pleasure, and they fell asleep together.
Laire’s grip on Sade’s hands tightened. It wasn’t tight enough to hurt unless Sade struggled, but, after all, Sade had learned in these past weeks not to struggle against the princess’s will. It was the struggle that brought pain.
Sade took a breath. She nodded.
“I will try,” she said.
“That’s all any of us can ask,” Laire said with a smile. A true smile, one that made her eyes shine with a sort of manic joy.