Bound to the Fey (Book Four of The Mortal Champion): (A Supernatural, Fairy, College, Erotic Romance) (14 page)

“No!” shrieked Maeve, her blade hissing as it swung down. “Love endures!”

Maeve's sword crashed into Corrigan's. A crack shivered up the icy blade.

~   ~   ~

A fury Maeve had never experienced consumed her. Gunnar had been transformed into a foul parody of life, his eyes gems, his hide made of sooty coal wrapped over a skeleton of dead maple wood. He watched the fight from outside the circle, pacing, wanting to join in.

To help that bitch.

It horrified Maeve to see her strong warrior enslaved. Her anger burned through her, consuming her, propelling her to save him. She hammered her sword down onto the Lean Sidhe's frozen blade. Maeve had never wielded a sword before.

But she didn't need skill to beat her enemy into submission.

All she needed was passion.

A crack formed in the Lean Sidhe's bravado. The arrogant, vile contempt melted from her icy face. Her slitted eyes widened. Fear blossomed.

The Pixie seized her sword with both hands. Her wings hummed with her excitement. Her feet lifted from the ground as she delivered the overhand blow. The icy blade rang; the Lean Sidhe forced back a few steps from the strength of the impact.

“You will not beat me!” spat Corrigan. “I will not lose to a fucking bug!”

Winds swirled in the circle, whipping around Corrigan. Her blade grew shiny, moisture condensing on the blade and refreezing, filling in the cracks. The Pixie did not care. Her blows fell faster and faster, more and more energy put into them.

New cracks formed faster than Corrigan's magic could repair them. Maeve's love and passion burned brighter, the air rippling about her. Fire danced on her humming wings, sparks flying around her like fireflies.

The fear grew in Corrigan's golden eyes. Maeve tasted her victory. Corrigan cast a glance over her shoulder, staring at the invisible plane of the cold iron spikes. She wanted to flee. She wanted to abandon the contest before the terms of their duel had been settled.

“There's no escape from my passion!” howled Maeve.

Her sword slammed down. Corrigan's blade shattered. The Lean Sidhe fell backwards to the grass, blood streaming from a cut on her arm. Steam rose from the shattered pieces of her blade as the shards melted on the green grass.

“Killing me won't restore him!” spat Corrigan. “I changed him fully! I took away his human form. Enjoy your hellhound, bitch!”

Maeve placed her thorny blade against Corrigan's pale throat. “You will restore him!” Maeve shrieked.

~   ~   ~

Maeve hesitated.

Corrigan hid her smile. The sword was on her throat, but it didn't bite. The Pixie was scared of losing Gunnar. She hadn't expected he would be a hellhound. The Lean Sidhe had the smallest amount of leverage.

And she had her opening.

“Don't kill me,” she pretended to cry as she reformed her sword.

The Pixie's attention was fixed on Maeve's face. She didn't notice the ice swirling, forming a new blade. Not as long as the first, but then the Pixie was standing right over her; Corrigan didn't need much reach. The Lean Sidhe tensed, her throat pulsing with the beat of her heart.

The blade formed.

Corrigan swung.

The Pixie screamed.

Maeve's wings hummed, pulling the Pixie back before the blade found her flesh. Corrigan scored only a glancing blow. Blood spurted from the Pixie's thigh, frost spreading from the wound up and down her legs.

The Pixie's sword lashed out as Corrigan rose. Too fast. Pain exploded across the Lean Sidhe's face. The thorns sprouting from the blade tore at her flesh. Corrigan was thrown back to the ground, blood streaming from her face.

Maeve stumbled as she landed, the frost shattering off her leg as fire licked at her wounds. The angry passion burned brighter in the Pixie's eyes. Fear filled Corrigan.
She's going to kill me.
 

“Evan! Now!” shrieked Corrigan.

Evan burst from the rose bushes where the other humans hid, ignoring the thorns tearing at his flesh. Her second hound was just as loyal as Gunnar. The other humans gasped in shock. Akiko cried out for her boyfriend. He ignored her.

Blood trickled from several gashes down Evan's face. He fell to his knees at the spikes, feeling around for where they were hidden. He had helped place them. He had a rough idea. He just had to pull one.

“Mistress!” Evan exulted as he pulled out the cold iron spike. He hurled it at Maeve before he sprinted away, chased by Brad.

The Pixie ducked the projectile. The barrier was down. Corrigan hopped to her feet, throwing a blast of ice at the Pixie as she rushed in. Freedom was hers. She raced, leaping over the ring of cold iron, passing her growling hellhound.

The ground erupted before her. A wall of roses soared into the sky, their foul perfume nauseating the Lean Sidhe. She slid to a halt before she crashed into the wall of thorns. The Pixie had anchored another spell on the cold iron.

One that had triggered when Evan had pulled the spike.

“I'm trapped,” she gasped. “You knew Evan was mine?”

“I suspected you would figure out my plan,” Maeve smiled, advancing forward, ignoring the limp in her leg. “You are a Lean Sidhe. Betrayal was to be expected. I planned for it. Surrender and give me back Gunnar!”

Corrigan formed a new sword. “Then have him!” she hissed and pointed.

Gunnar obeyed and lunged at the Pixie.

~   ~   ~

His Mistress commanded. Gunnar had to obey. Ephemeral branches of blackthorn connected Gunnar to his Mistress, a collar tight about his throat, the leash clutched in his Mistress's soul.

Gunnar lunged from his crouch, racing at the blazing, burning figure that had hurt his Mistress. Gunnar saw a world of shadows, everything blacks and grays. But a few things blazed with color. His Mistress shone with pale, white-blue light, an inverse heat to the fiery monster and her thorny blade. Only one other thing blazed with green and blue light wrapped around each other, a tongue of flame, not unlike a sword, rising from a nearby boulder.

“No, stop, Gunnar!” the fiery thing cried, her wings humming. She lifted from the air. His jaws snapped right below her feet, missing her flesh by inches.

Gunnar landed on the grass, his paws biting into the turf. He spun, snarling. The fiery thing landed, parrying a sword swipe from Mistress. Gunnar snarled as lunged, eager to taste the blood of this burning Fey.

The fiery Fey dodged his lunge, but Mistress's icy blade scored a hit, clipping the fiery Fey's shoulder. Hot blood spurted. A wonderful scent. Gunnar's hungers grew. He had to taste her flesh. His claws tore great swaths of grass as he turned.

“Please, Gunnar. It's me. Maeve! Your nurseful fiancee!”

...you nurse my soul with your playfulness...

A beautiful face blossomed in Gunnar's mind, pale and lovely, green eyes flashing with joy, tears brimming.

...thank you, Gunnar. Nurseful. That's so sweet...

Gunnar whimpered. The collar of blackthorn tightened about his throat.

With a snarling growl, Gunnar attacked the fiery Fey to relieve the constricting pressure of his collar.

~   ~   ~

Maeve swung her sword at Corrigan, her anger burning hot. The Lean Sidhe had twisted Gunnar into that foul beast. Now she had to fight Corrigan while dodging Gunnar's snarling attacks. Her sword dived in, batting Corrigan's to the side.

Gunnar lunged in.

Maeve's wings fluttered. She lifted off into the air, Gunnar hurtling past her. She could have stab him. He was open. But there was no way could Maeve hurt her soul mate. Instead, she reached out and touched his foul hide. “It's me, Gunnar!” she called out.

Gunnar crashed into the turf, snarling and baying. For a moment, an ephemeral leash made of twisted blackthorn connected Gunnar to Corrigan. He was bound so tight. Maeve swung her sword at the leash.

Her blade past through it.

“Stop bleating at him,” Corrigan hissed, lunging in with her icy sword. “He is mine. He will always be mine!”

Maeve flicked her sword up, deflecting Corrigan's blade so it went over the Pixie's head. Maeve lunged in, her shoulder slamming into Corrigan's chest, throwing the Lean Sidhe onto the ground. Maeve thrust, her blade arcing straight at Corrigan's chest.

Gunnar slammed into her.

Maeve screamed in pain as the heavy body crashed into her. The Pixie's light frame was thrown across the arena. She tumbled in the air, disoriented, her left arm bleeding where Gunnar's jaw had caught her flesh, tearing hard.

She flapped her wings, golden dust flaring around her.

Maeve still hit the ground hard. She rolled for a few feet. Gunnar was on her, his jaw snapping. Maeve caught his snarling jaw with the flat of her thorny blade, forcing all her passion into her arm to keep the snarling hellhound from tearing her face apart.

“When you first said you loved me in the library, I thought I couldn't be happier,” Maeve whispered, staring into his dead, jewel eyes.
He had to be in there.
“But when you proposed to me and asked me to be your wife. I was ecstatic.” 

Maeve held up her badly injured left arm, brandishing her engagement ring before Gunnar. The pink diamond flickered with a silvery brilliance. Gunnar flinched from the twinkle, letting out a snarl as he backed away.

“What are you doing?” Corrigan hissed. “Tear the bitch's throat out.”

Gunnar yelped as the Lean Sidhe slashed his flank with her icy blade.

Anger boiled in the Pixie.

Maeve launched herself up, her sword thrusting before her. Maeve soared past the whimpering Gunnar, the point of her thorny blade aimed right for the Lean Sidhe's heart. Corrigan reacted, deflecting Maeve's attack. The two Fey crashed together, their blades flying from their hands.

Corrigan grunted as Maeve landed atop her. “How dare you hurt him!” screamed Maeve, punching Corrigan in the face, breaking her nose. “How dare you degrade him and beat him! He is a warrior! He's a man! He deserves to be treated with respect and love!”

“Gunnar!” Corrigan gasped as Maeve punched her again, splitting open the Lean Sidhe's forehead above her eye. More blood stained the Lean Sidhe's face. “Save me! Defend your mistress!”

Maeve let out a shriek of pure rage and squeezed Corrigan's throat. “You hurt Gunnar! You hurt Brad and Jena! You put my best friend in a coma! You destroyed Mindy's personality, and you dominated Evan! You foul, loathsome monster! You do not deserve to exist!”

“Please, Gunnar! Save me!” choked the Lean Sidhe.

~   ~   ~

The cries of Gunnar's Mistress shook the hellhound out of its traumatic stupor. The pink light had reached deep inside the beast, touching the face of the beautiful woman buried in the recesses and sent him reeling. But now the blackthorn collar tightened, the leash jerking him around, yanking him out of his daze.

The fiery being was atop Mistress, her flaming hands squeezing Mistress's icy throat. Mistress needed him to save her. Gunnar snarled and lunged forward. The burning Fey was too engrossed in her attack to notice him.

Gunnar seized her right leg, teeth sinking deep. Her hot blood spurted into his mouth. With a powerful yank, he ripped the Fey from his Mistress's throat. The flaming being screamed in pain as he threw her. She crashed hard, gossamer wings folding and snapping beneath her body.

Her moans of agony were...

...horrifying...

...wonderful to Gunnar's ears.

The hellhound lunged, his powerful forepaws pinned the fiery Fey's shoulders down as she tried to rise. She moaned in pain, her flaming face twisted. Gunnar had a taste of her blood. He needed more.

The vein in her throat pulsed, beckoning Gunnar.

Gunnar's jaws lowered.

“I...will always...love you...Gunnar...” the fiery Fey vowed.

Gunnar's jaws stopped. The fiery being's face was so familiar. Images cascaded through the hellhound's mind: lying atop Maeve in the rose bushes the night Mindy shattered his heart; declaring his love to her in the school library; her fiery kisses; the childish glee she possessed watching a Tinkerbell cartoon; falling to his knees and proposing to her with the pink diamond ring.

The pink light flashed in Gunnar's mind.

...
my fiancee...

...the mistress of my heart...

Pain flared in his mind. Corrigan's flail seemed to be whipping him all over again, stripping the flesh as he howled in pain.

I serve Mistress.

I love Maeve.

“Kill him, you stupid hound!” Corrigan hissed, standing up. “What is wrong with you? Tear her throat out. Drink her blood. Kill the fucking bitch!”

Mistress commands.

Maeve loves.

The only bad memory Gunnar had of Maeve was the night he had witnessed her monstrous form. She had been foul and ugly, so unlike the Maeve trembling before him and staring up with such love from her green depths.

Gunnar looked at Mistress, her face twisted in rage. The icy sword formed in her hand. “Fine, I'll kill the little bitch myself. And then you'll be punished!”

Mistress hurts.

Maeve heals.

“You will howl in agony for your defiance!” promised Mistress.

There had been one moment that terrible night when Maeve had attacked him when she hadn't looked monstrous. She had been lovely, beautiful, and full of such heart-wrenching pain.
Pain Mistress caused when she deceived me.

I am forced to serve Mistress.

I choose to love Maeve.

Gunnar's head snapped around. His jaws crushed the ephemeral leash of blackthorn that bound him to Corrigan. He ripped, ignoring the pain tearing his soul. He would endure so much pain to save his fiancee.

The blackthorn snapped and shattered beneath his crushing jaw.

Gunnar lunged at Corrigan.

Her icy blade thrust forward and buried into Gunnar's bestial chest.

~   ~   ~

Gunnar crashed to the ground, whimpering in pain. The icy blade impaled deep into his chest, inky blood pulling onto the green grass. His legs kicked as he struggled to rise. He collapsed again.