The Unwanted Challenge Page 2

  “Seeing my dads face-to-face…I guess it’s made me feel a little resentful about all the things I’ve missed out on?” I continued, unable to hold the flow of words back now that I’d gotten started. “Especially when Galvyn said he mated with my mother for love, despite the fact she wasn’t a strong match for his magic. They loved each other, and I spent my childhood completely unloved. It kind of blows.”

  “You’ve got a new family now, foxglove,” Marlen said gently, leaning forward to brush his lips against my temple. “It doesn’t make up for the years you spent on your own, and you have every right to be angry about how you grew up. Just don’t let that anger consume you. Don’t let it detract from the happiness ahead of you.”

  Arthus began pouring the tea and Marlen gently shifted my legs off him, standing up. I missed the warmth of his body immediately.

  “I’m sorry, foxglove. I need to get to my post for guard duty tonight, if I could get out of it…” he trailed off guiltily.

  “I’m okay, don’t feel guilty.” I gave him a reassuring smile, leaning up to kiss him lightly, very much aware that Arthus was still in the room.

  “Come back here when you’re finished,” Arthus instructed and Marlen gave him a quick nod before departing.

  Arthus took Marlen’s spot next to me on the couch, bringing over two cups of sage tea, his favorite. I did my best to keep my features neutral. Sage tea was effing gross.

  “Shall we talk about something else?” Arthus asked politely. I repressed a giggle, comforting an upset woman was clearly not Arthus’ strong point. He was probably missing Marlen already.

  “Can you tell me about your family?” I asked hesitantly. This thing between Arthus and I had moved at lightspeed and while it felt incredibly right and I had no regrets, I also realized I knew very little about him.

  “Sure, sweetheart,” Arthus said with a small smile but I felt a wave of sadness. “I have one older brother, he lives near my parents near Garrán Naofa, sacred grove. My parents all work at the main temple there. They’re very...devout.”

  “That bothers you,” I surmised, tucking my foot up under my knee and wriggling back into the couch cushions.

  “My wings first appeared when I was three. My parents were thrilled that the gods had given me such a rare gift. As I got older and more aware of the danger my wings put me in, I became resentful of the gods for cursing me with them. My parents don’t understand that. To them, any emotion towards the gods other than gratitude is sacrilege.”

  “They’re not going to like me then,” I muttered. Gratitude was the last thing I felt for the gods.

  “I think they’ll adore you. A rare gift, a strong pull between us...they’ll take those as signs of a union blessed by the gods.” His tone was light but I could feel his bitterness.

  “Have you told them about me?”

  “I don’t write many letters, for my own security. Nor should you,” he added, shooting me a warning look.

  I shrugged. “You don’t need to worry about that, I don’t have anyone to write to. Maybe if my dads hadn’t tried to kidnap me, I’d be inclined to try to keep in touch with them.”

  “You don’t want to get to know them? They didn’t make a great first impression, but your safety has clearly been a priority for them all these years,” Arthus asked as if he hadn’t been borderline feral with rage directed entirely at them just a couple of hours ago.

  Did I want to get to know them? Not really. Or right now at least. Their efforts at keeping me safe had dehumanized me in their eyes. I wasn’t their daughter with a mind and goals of mine. I was a thing to them. An object that required protection.

  “Not any time soon,” I said eventually. “One day, when they’re ready to start seeing me as an individual rather than a job. Maybe.”

  Arthus reached along the back of the couch and ran his fingers through my hair, gently detangling my curls as he pondered my words.

  “Do you disagree…?” I asked tentatively after he’d been silent for a long while, his emotions swirling all over the place.

  “Not at all, sweetheart,” Arthus replied, surprised at my question. “If anything, I was thinking about applying your theory to my own parents. Giving us both space until they see me as an individual rather than a vessel for the gods.”

  I was the teensiest bit disappointed, I had wanted to meet them. Marlen’s parents too.

  “We’ll meet them first,” Arthus reassured me, correctly identifying the source of my melancholy.

  “Come on,” Arthus said standing and pulling me to my feet. “You need to eat.”

  “I don’t want to go out. I might see the others and I’m not ready to tell them about my disastrous family reunion yet,” I groaned petulantly.

  “It’s late, the commons is nearly closed for the night, I doubt there will be anyone there. We’ll grab some food and come back here to eat it,” Arthus replied, his tone brooking no argument. “Besides, you’ll need your strength for later.”

  “Why?” I asked, instantly perking up. “What’s later?”

  “Your first sleepover with me,” Arthus replied with a seductive smirk, before striding out the door leaving me scrambling to catch up.

  If anything could improve my crappy day, it would be Arthus’ many promises of ‘soon’ finally coming to fruition.

  We sat at the three-person table in Arthus’ cabin eating the small collection of scraps we’d managed to get from the buffet table in the commons. There wasn’t a lot left at the end of the day but we had been able to scrape together enough to make wraps followed by a dessert of watermelon slices.

  “Shower, if you like. I’ll find you something to sleep in,” Arthus announced. He hadn’t hinted at anything other than sleep since before we went to get dinner but I had the feeling he liked keeping me in suspense.

  “Okay,” I agreed. A shower sounded really nice, actually. Even if it was only lukewarm.

  The soap in Arthus’ shower was different from the Academy-issued one I used, he must buy his own. It smelled like cucumber and melon — fresh and delicious like him. A primal part of me liked having the smell of him on my skin.

  That cavewoman part of me did a little happy jig when I noticed Arthus had left me his own shirt to wear. It was creamy linen that laced up around the collar and fell midway down my thighs. I went commando underneath because I had zero desire to put on worn panties.

  Arthus was already in bed, lying back against the pillows with his arms folded behind his head, staring up at the stars through the skylight. He didn’t have a shirt on and my mouth watered a little at the sight of his bronzed, muscular chest. Arthus wasn’t bulky, his muscles were lean but cut, every ridge was defined. I wanted to trace them with my tongue.

  He looked over as I ascended the ladder and his eyes filled with heat.

  “I like seeing you in my shirt, sweetheart,” Arthus said in a low, husky voice.

  “I like wearing your shirt,” I replied, aiming for playful but sounding breathy and more than a little desperate instead. Gods, one day I would be able to keep my cool around Arthus.

  I climbed into the bed next to him, all too aware of how close he was, how good he smelled, how potent his lust for me was as it coursed through my system. It was incredibly distracting.

  “I want to make you mine, sweetheart,” Arthus murmured, leaning over to capture my chin between his thumb and forefinger and sucking gently on my lower lip.

  “I want that too,” I whispered against his lips. I felt more than saw his smile but it was a brief moment of playfulness before Arthus went into full sexy boss mode.

  “Lie back, hands above your head. Spread your legs. Don't. Move.”

  He unlaced the top of the shirt, pulling it apart enough for him to get a generous view of my cleavage but left it on me. If I had fire magic, I'd burn it off myself.

  Surprisingly, Arthus was the ultimate tease. He repeatedly pulled aside my shirt, stroking and licking my skin before moving the fabric back into place. Someti
mes he'd follow his tongue with a soft gust of his air magic. The whole thing was unhurried and maddening, I was going insane with want but I didn't dare say anything in case he stopped.

  Gods, I waited too long to risk ruining this now. I'd wanted Arthus from the moment I met him.

  He planted soft kisses up my legs and I expected him to stop and tease me some more, but instead, he plunged two fingers into my already soaking core. The shock of it rode the perfect line of pleasure and pain and had me arching my back off the bed, moaning loudly.

  “Oh dear,” Arthus murmured as his magical fingers stilled. “Remember what I said when we started, sweetheart?”

  “Don't move,” I panted. “I'm sorry I swear I won't do it again. Gods, please don't stop.”

  “Hmm,” he said in a low, seductive voice. “What to do?”

  He removed his fingers slowly and licked them slowly. It was sexy as hell and I kind of wanted to cry, I needed to come so badly my brain was short-circuiting.

  Arthus flipped me over roughly, pushing my hips in the air and situated himself behind me. I propped myself up on my forearms and looked back at him over my shoulder. I should be embarrassed — I was seriously on display right now — but Arthus’ face was raw lust.

  He let his hand slide down over the curve of my ass and down my outer thigh, before dragging it back up between my legs, his thumb just brushing where I wanted him most. I bit down hard on my lip to focus on not squirming.

  After a few more tantalizing strokes over my ass and thighs, Arthus’ hand came down with a swift crack on my ass that had me gasping. He rubbed the spot where he’d just spanked me, soothing the sting, and the whole sensation sent delicious flutterings to my core.

  It turns out, I’m into spanking.

  Alternating sides, he spanked me five more times, each time following up the slap with a gentle touch. My core clenched tightly around nothing and I was on the verge of begging.

  Did he want me to beg? I didn’t hate the idea.

  “You liked that, didn’t you sweetheart? So pretty, seeing my handprints on you. If I touch you right now, will I find you soaking and aching for me?”

  “Yes,” I all but cried. “Please, please I need you.”

  “Well, when you ask me so nicely,” he chuckled. He wound one hand through my hair, wrapping it tightly around his fist, while his other hand firmly rested in the center of my back, gently pushing me toward the mattress.

  That’s all the warning he gave me before plunging all the way into me so suddenly I screamed, my back arching against his hand. Holy fucking fae.

  Arthus’ hand moved from my lower back to my hip, his grip firm enough to leave bruises from his fingers. I kind of hoped there were, Arthus seemed like he would get a kick out of making his mark on me, the same way I did when I marked Marlen.

  He thrust into me relentlessly and I basked in the sensation of letting go and giving myself and my pleasure completely over to him. My hands twisted in the sheets, nipples scraping deliciously against the fabric, I made noises I didn’t even recognize.

  Arthus reached around me to stimulate my sensitive bundle of nerves and I went off like a rocket. Every inch of me was alive and tingling with sensation, my brain floating away from my blissed-out body until there was nothing but Arthus and me, the way our bodies connected.

  He extended my orgasm, constantly stimulating me and never letting up until my screams became hoarse whispers and found his release.

  “You’re so tight, sweetheart, you’re strangling me,” he panted. “So fucking perfect.”

  Arthus pulled out and I collapsed onto my stomach with a satisfied groan. He snorted and lay down next to me, pulling me into his side. Despite the explosive sex we’d just shared, this felt more intimate somehow. I doubted Arthus usually hung around for post-coital snuggles.

  He planted a kiss on my shoulder blade that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “I’m going to get a washcloth, okay?”

  I was half asleep by the time he returned to help me clean up and I passed out curled up into Arthus’ side, safe and sated. I woke sometime later with Marlen’s arms banded tightly around my waist and his face buried in my hair.

  Whatever unresolved feelings I had towards my fathers and what their revelations meant for my future could wait until tomorrow.

  Marlen

  After our last failed attempt to walk through the Avalon Fair site a couple of days ago, I was surprised when Fi requested we try again.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. If Fi was anything, it was curious.

  We both had early classes so decided to go in the afternoon. Unfortunately, it meant Arthus couldn’t join us as he had evening tutoring sessions. He was adamantly against Fi going off-campus without the two of us but she must have worked some kind of voodoo sex magic on him and got him to cave.

  I know Arthus thought he was in control when it came to Fi, but she called the shots with him as much as she did with me. Just in a more roundabout way.

  As we reached the fairground, Fi was practically vibrating with excitement. The fair itself didn’t start for a few days but there were merchants from every corner of the realm here already, setting up their stalls and preparing their wares. I was getting motion sickness just watching Fi’s eyes dart around to take everything in.

  A large, emerald green dragon flew overhead and Fi practically burst out of her skin with curiosity. She was like a kid on Solstice day.

  “A dragon!” she squealed. “Marlen, did you see?” Fi tugged at my arm to get my attention, in case I’d missed the 50-foot beast that had just flown over us. I grinned at her enthusiasm.

  “Sort of hard to miss, foxglove. Did you see the color?” Fi nodded. “Earth dragon. Dragon magic is rooted in the elements too. Blue dragon for water, a red dragon for fire, a silver dragon for air, a green dragon for earth. Each flight has one of each element plus the leader — the black dragon — who has control of all four elements.”

  “Wow,” Fi said in awe, still scanning the sky for more dragons. “Is a flight of dragons a family? Are they related?”

  I laughed. “Not so much. You know they’re shifters, right? Their dragons don’t appear until they’re of age, then the magic draws the flight together. Five males. They probably didn’t know each other before their dragons surfaced.”

  “What about girl dragons?” Fi asked, puzzled.

  “Much like the fae, dragons share,” I said with a wink, enjoying the way Fi blushed.

  “Once the flight has come together, they are called to their mate. Her dragon will be gold and smaller than the male dragons. They’re quite secretive about their females but from what we know, they don’t have elemental magic. They look after the children, guard the hoard, and have some healing abilities. They’re nurturers.”

  Fi hummed under her breath and I chuckled.

  “You think Arthus is an alpha male, he’s got nothing on dragon shifters. Their mate is lucky if she leaves the den,” I told her as we made our way down one of the rows of stalls. None of the goods were set up yet but Fi was far more interested in the stallholders than what they were selling.

  I discreetly elbowed her when she gaped at a large wooden tub of water where a merman was lounging comfortably and barking directions at the fae who were setting up his stall. Merpeople were notoriously temperamental, best not to get on their bad side.

  We decided to head back when the sun started to set. Despite knowing that Fi’s dads hadn’t intended to hurt her and were actually just trying to keep her safe, I couldn’t help replaying the moment they’d snatched her away from us in my mind. The terror I’d felt would stick with me for a long time and being off-campus made it worse.

  Arthus was probably having a coronary knowing we had left the campus without him.

  I entered Fi’s cabin behind her and was momentarily distracted when she bent over to retrieve something on the floor. Gods, that ass.

  “What is it, foxglove?”

  “A note from Gwyneira,”
Fi replied, her voice filled with relief. Theoretically, she shouldn’t be getting any more notes now we’d met her dads and knew where they were coming from, but the whole thing had made her jittery nonetheless.

  “I think she just wants to check on me after the whole my-asshole-dads-kidnapped-me debacle. She said to come over whenever,” Fi added, moving to grab her shawl that she’d just dropped and head straight back out.

  Fi gave me a hesitant look as my panic spiked at the idea of being separated from her. The mating pull writhed uncomfortably in my chest, demanding I keep her in my sights, whispering claim her in my soul. One look at Fi’s face told me she was facing the same dilemma.

  “Do you want to come with me?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Gods, yes,” I groaned in relief. I had promised that this relationship would happen at Fi’s pace and I meant it, but it was getting harder and harder to put off the claiming.

  “Thank the gods,” she muttered, probably not intending me to hear. It made me grin a little that she at least felt as strongly about me as I did about her.

  I grabbed her hand as we headed out of the cabin and made our way down the staircase that wound around the tree trunk to the forest path that led to Gwyneira’s cabin. I almost moaned at how good the skin-to-skin contact felt and we’d only been physically separated for about ten minutes.

  It was only a fifteen minute walk to Gwyneira’s cabin, Fi knew the way better than I did. She knocked on the door, still gripping my hand as if I’d float away from her, and Gwyneira greeted us with a bemused expression, leading us into the sitting room for tea.

  “Mr. Ferris, I was not expecting your company. Sit, please. I will go fetch a third cup,” she said, hustling us into the room before departing for the kitchen. Fi moved closer to me on the couch, resting our linked hands on my thigh and leaning in tightly to my side.

  Gwyneira seemed to consider us before she busied herself preparing the tea.