Page 28 of Court of Evil

CHAPTER 13

Ican feel the fae watching me, and it’s unnerving. I face the window, refusing to look at him, lest that makes him strike. My eyes are open and my hand is wrapped around my dagger, which is obscured by the sheets. It will take precious seconds to free it, but it would also be an open invitation to attack if he sees me with it.

“Sleep, human. I promise not to kill you until you wake.” His silken voice fills the air, and the room seems to darken, cool white filigrees and animals filling the space in an epic display of magic. A bunny hops before my eyes before disappearing and morphing into a moon with stars.

“Enough,” I snap.

He chuckles, but the magic disappears. Closing my eyes, I force myself to relax, even as I swear I feel something brush across my cheek. “I will make good on my threat if you come near me, fae. I swear it.”

“I have no doubt,” he murmurs. “Sleep.”

“I’m going to—not because you ordered me to, but because I planned to,” I mutter.

“Stubborn, fierce human.” He chuckles, but it sounds too close for my liking. He wants a reaction, but I don’t give him one.

One by one, I force my muscles to relax.

I suppose most people wouldn’t be able to fall asleep knowing an evil fae who has developed a taste for your soul and blood is watching you so closely, but I’ve slept around my team for years, and they craved my pain and death just as much.

I am, however, a light sleeper, so when I feel the sheets move sometime later, my eyes open.

I must have flipped to my back during the night, my dagger still held in my grip. Frowning, I try to figure out what woke me. I glance around the dark room, but I do not see the fae anywhere, and my heart starts to pound with adrenaline and fear.

Suddenly, the sheets move again, and my gaze sweeps down my body, widening when I see the bulge at the end of the bed big enough to be a person. It moves up, the sheets moving with it. Hands grip my thighs, and I am yanked down the bed and under the sheets.

A yelp escapes my mouth, but I swing my dagger, only to freeze when a hand wraps around it and I’m unable to pull back or push forward. My eyes strain in the darkness, trying to see even though I know it’s the fae before his voice fills the strained, warm darkness of the cocoon under the sheets.

“You said not to get near you, nothing about touching.”

Snarling, I struggle against his grip with all my strength. Luckily, he’s only touching the blade, so I do not have to see into his head, but all it does is make him hiss, and then something wet drips onto my leg. I freeze, and he chuckles.

“Would you like to see?” Before I can respond, a dull, warm white glow illuminates under the sheets, which seem to blow up into a dome.

There are drops of ruby red blood on my thigh. Slowly, I drag my gaze up and meet his. His hand holds the blade, and blood slowly slides down it, hitting my thigh below.

“You made me bleed, human,” he murmurs as he leans in, his hair glowing like a fucking halo, which is a lie. “Now it’s my turn to make you bleed. A cut for a cut.”

Before I can even suck in a breath, he is on me, pinning me to the bed, his teeth sinking into my neck.

My head slams back into the mattress as an agonising scream tries to erupt from my throat, but I bite it back, slapping at him. He sinks his teeth deeper, worrying at my neck. I feel my blood spill down across my shoulder and to the bed, and the pain makes my heart slam like a trapped bird.

Gritting my teeth, I manage to free one of my hands from between us as he drinks my blood with a deep moan.

I slide my hand down my side. Despite the agony rolling through me, I grip the dagger beside me and slam it into his ribs, twisting it as he gasps and jerks against me. “You think you’re the first handsy monster I’ve dealt with?” I snap as I shove it deeper. It must hurt like a bitch, and I feel his blood flowing down from the deep wound, but he doesn’t release my neck. If anything, he moans into the wound, and my eyes widen as his hips roll.

He forces himself against me, falling between my thighs until he’s pressed against my crotch, rubbing himself against me as he feeds, all while I twist the dagger deeper, but he doesn’t care.

Sick fucking fae.

I wrench my head forward, ripping my neck wound even more, and sink my teeth into his pale flesh. I feel his skin pop in my mouth, blood pouring down my neck and throat, and I jerk my head, trying to cause as much damage as I can until I have to fall back, gasping.

Choking on my own blood, I stare at him as he kneels, reaching up to trace the jagged, feral wound marring the perfection of his pale, glistening neck. The blood staining his lips and teeth betray his nature as he grins and then starts to laugh.

Coughing up blood, I fight to cover my wound, knowing it’s too deep.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Do not say I am unkind.” He waves his hand, and I feel his magic move through me. My neck wound stitches back together, the bleeding stops, and I can breathe again as he heals me. “You caused that. You would have survived my wound, but you inflicted that one yourself. I am benevolent, am I not?” He strokes his fingers across the wound on his neck like one would a cock. “But I do like this—a mark from my little human. I would be sad to see it go.”

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