Dragon Awakened: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Cursed Fae Book 1) Read online

  He kissed the back of her hand, his green eyes locking with hers in a way that made her feel he sought to read her mind.

  How was it possible for a man to have such long lashes? How was a face so perfect that she simply couldn’t look away?

  King Cosimo stroked her hand with his thumb and let go.

  Bloody hell.

  His touch did something to her—it sent shivers up her spine that sickened her. She chewed her bottom lip, her breath quickening. Whatever attraction she had to him vanished as she looked deeply into his eyes.

  The smile was fake.

  The cheer was an act.

  This High Fae was not one to trifle with.

  Just being so close to him was physically taxing, and she didn’t like it. When he turned head out the room, she cast a pleading look to Theron.

  He took her hand into his, understanding her fear. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  How did the High Fae prince become her savior in all of this? And, how would she protect her heart from being stolen by him?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Fear.

  It crept over Mila like a spider. Her heart thumped loudly, but she kept her composure the best she could as King Cosimo watched her, his gaze following her every move.

  After downing her third glass of wine, she loosened up a bit and realized just how famished she was.

  Under the light of the moon, they ate outside in the garden at a long table set under a white canopy. Mila devoured sliced roast beef, vegetables, and the best smothered potatoes she’d ever tasted. She licked cream from the corner of her mouth and blushed when she noticed Prince Theron watching her.

  He smoothed the skirt of her dress from under the table, and she tensed, a shiver running up her spine at his delicate touch.

  “Tell us about your new toy,” Duke Cantor said, grinning from across the table. “Where did you find such a lovely human?”

  She dabbed her mouth with a cloth napkin and took a drink of wine. With a sidelong glance, she watched Theron shrug.

  “Lady Mila is none of your concern,” he said, tapping his finger on the table.

  “Dessert,” the server said, as one server removed her plate and he placed a glass bowl of pudding before her. “Chocolate pudding with fresh strawberries.”

  Mila looked down at the sweet smelling dessert and noticed how full she was.

  “King Cosimo,” Counselor Hexley called from his spot at the table to Mila’s right. “What are you planning to do about the magic users hiding out in the south district?”

  King Cosimo lowered his glass, his green eyes darkening as he rolled them, as if he’d heard that question too many times.

  “I will handle it on my time, in my way,” he said and stood.

  Everyone followed suit and stood from the table, with a nod of their heads.

  The king looked to Mila, his eyes brightening again. “Would you join me for a walk, Lady Mila?”

  Mila swallowed, and exchanged a glance with Theron. He shrugged, feigning apathy.

  Smart. They couldn’t betray their plan.

  “I’d be delighted,” Mila said, though her heart thumped in her chest.

  To be alone with the king frightened her. But, this was what they wanted to achieve all along. She just wasn’t ready to face him. Not without mastering the spell.

  Mila straightened her dress and nodded, leaving her seat at the table. She made her way around the table to the white path. King Cosimo held an arm out, and Mila linked her arm around his.

  Together, they left the gathering to walk toward the pond. She watched the geese swim and play in the crystal clear water that was almost the size of Emory’s lake on Dalton Manor.

  Again, they touched, and Mila found herself holding her breath at being so close to him. Gooseflesh ran along her arms as she avoided looking at him.

  She still wasn’t convinced he didn’t use some fae magic on her. Being so close, and touching made it hard to breathe—and not in the way Theron affected her.

  She was literally disgusted by the king’s presence.

  “Did you enjoy your meal?”

  Mila nodded. “I did. Thank you for the invitation. I can’t think of any meal as delicious as what we had today.”

  “Not even at my son’s estate? I hear the chefs are top notch.”

  She bit her bottom lip, wondering if he was baiting her.

  “Of course, not, your highness. Naturally, the king would have the best chefs in all of Veruth. Am I right?”

  He chuckled. “Well said, young lady.”

  The moon was nearly absent on that night, but torches lit the way. She watched the dark pond reflect what little light did shine. The short-cut evergreen grass rustled as a soft breeze fragrant with fresh peaches wafted their way.

  She looked up at the fat peaches that hung from the trees.

  “Peaches?”

  “Ah, yes. I had them imported. You like them?”

  “There was a peach tree on the land my parents rented back home,” she said, memories of her father picking them and baking pies. “They were my favorite.” The smell brought a smile to her. It was as if she could still taste them.

  “Are they?” He followed her gaze. “I have apple and pear trees as well. Would you like one?”

  “A tree?”

  He chuckled. “No, dear. An apple or pear. Or a basket full to take back with you.”

  “No, I’m pretty full,” she said with a sigh. “It just brought back memories of my father.”

  “Oh. Is he still around?”

  “No,” Mila said. “He died a while ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. What about your mother?”

  It was then that she realized that he was using magic on her. Her skin tingled and an itch filled her throat. Still, she tried to hide the fact that she was onto his game.

  She kept her answers short.

  “She died as well. You know, I should be getting back. I’m quite tired and had too much to drink,” she said, pulling away from his grasp.

  “Ah, its still early,” he said, tightening his grip.

  She pursed her lips, unsure of what to do. It was clear that he wasn’t going to let her go until he was ready to.

  “You know, you’re welcome to come anytime,” he said with a wicked grin as he looked down at her.

  She shuddered. There was a mixture of very real evil and lust in her eyes.

  “That is kind of you,” she said, politely. “I won’t bother you, though.”

  “On the contrary. Please do. Bother me whenever you want,” he said, then lifted a finger. “Actually, I command you to.”

  Silence washed over her at the command. Could she say no?

  When he pulled her closer, it was with such force that she slammed into the hardness of his chest. He leaned down, eyes turning completely black, and whispered.

  “Say yes.”

  Her mind screamed. Her body ached. Her heart raced.

  But, despite it all, like a puppet, she nodded.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The feast came to an end, and Theron escorted her away from the castle and to the carriage. While she climbed inside, the others said their goodbyes.

  Mila, still shaken by her interaction with the king, sat upon the seat and closed her eyes.

  What was happening?

  Why did she feel dirty?

  The valet closed the door, and she jumped, as if cold water had been splashed onto her.

  “Everything okay?” Theron asked, his hand upon her shoulder.

  She turned to him, throat tight with fear and worry as the carriage began to ride off from the king’s castle. Relieved to put distance between her and the king, she released a sigh.

  He reached for her, and she stiffened, still locked in the king’s power.

  “He did something to me,” she said, breathless. “I can still feel him…inside my mind.”

  “Resist,�
�� he said, pulling her into his embrace. “He may be a psychic fae of the highest order, but you are still stronger than him. The gods and the spirits claim it to be true. You will banish evil and darkness from this land. And, he will not be able to stop you.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to him as she willed herself to free her mind.

  She hoped that what he said was true. Still, doubt came to her.

  Her thoughts were cloudy. All she saw was the king. His frigid fingers were wrapped around her throat, pressing into her skin, a sinister grin on his lips.

  “Mila?”

  “I can’t,” she whined, and he lifted her onto his lap, stunning her by his boldness.

  He then gripped her by her waist and kissed her, long, hard, more passionately than anyone ever had. The kiss was all heat and desire, and for a moment, it worked.

  He held onto her so tight that it was as if he feared that if he’d let go, she’d fly away with the wind, and she didn’t care, she devoured his mouth, desperate for release.

  Taking her bottom lip between his teeth, he laced his hands within her hair. “Fight him.”

  She worked at controlling her breathing, her thighs warm, her chest heaving. All she wanted was more of his kiss, but there was danger lurking.

  “Tell me what he wants.”

  She met his gaze, brows furrowed. “He ordered me to come to the palace.”

  Theron stroked her hair, nodding. “Very well. If he wants to play games, we will play our own.”

  She looked at him through a veil of tears. They rolled down her face, but she was too numb to do anything about it.

  “What do you mean?”

  Theron wiped a fallen tear from her cheek, and kissed her forehead. Something about that gentle gesture warmed her from within, and made a clearing in her shrouded mind.

  “We put a stop to this,” he said, looking ahead. “Together.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  They returned to the manor, and Mila curled under a blanket beside the fire in Theron’s private quarters. Her eyes fixed on the flames as she held a warm coffee cup in her hands.

  The prince’s outer sitting room was small and cozy, with a fireplace, a few sofas and chairs, and white bookcases that reached the ceiling.

  “That was surreal,” Mila said pulling her legs onto the plush, red sofa. “I wonder if he knows who I am.”

  Theron sighed, standing at the fireplace, drinking a glass of blood. “I don’t think so. You’d be dead. He just likes things of beauty, and can’t stand to see that you belong to me.”

  “You don’t think he means to take me from you, do you?”

  The idea itself was horrifying. With Theron, though the arrangement was just for their plot, she was comfortable.

  Safe.

  The king would torment and exploit her if he had the chance. She shuddered at the thought.

  Theron joined her on the sofa. Together, they watched the flames whip and crackle along the logs.

  Exhausted, Mila rested her head on Theron’s shoulder. She just wanted to sleep.

  “Mila,” Theron said, softly.

  “Yes?”

  “Tell me about what life was like for you outside of the city. Did you have friends?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Kellan has been there for me since I was born. Emory…a wolf-shifter, was my ex.”

  “Oh really?”

  Mila swallowed. For some reason, she almost didn’t tell him the truth. She’d considered lying about their real relationship, but she didn’t want secrets between them anymore.

  Just the truth.

  She gave him a sidelong glance, nodding. “Yes. He promised to marry me, but was too much of a coward to face the consequences of marrying outside of his race.”

  “He’s a fool then. He never did anything about you being sold?”

  Mila chewed her bottom lip. “Nothing.”

  “Wow,” Theron said, shaking his head. “If that were me, I would have stopped at nothing to end such a treacKellanus arrangement.”

  Speechless, Mila stared at him, wide-eyed at hearing the truth she hadn’t come to terms with. Hearing it from Theron made it all the more powerful.

  He was right.

  She’d prayed for Emory to come for her—to give her an alternative to being a concubine.

  He never did.

  “And now you’re going to rescue him,” Theron said. “Bloody irony.”

  “Well, there’s the whole law about shifters mating outside of their race.”

  “So what? If he loved you that wouldn’t have stopped him.”

  He cupped her face, bringing her toward him so that he looked into her eyes.

  “It wouldn’t have stopped me, Mila. Law or not.”

  She searched his eyes, seeing only truth. “I believe you, but I still want to make sure he’s set free from the palace prison once you take over as king.”

  “You’re a kind soul, Mila. But, yet, you have my word,” he said, and she offered a small smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “What of your family?”

  “My father died when I was a little girl. My mother—she was murdered shortly after I became a concubine. She’d encouraged me to sell myself, so that I would be safe.”

  “Mila,” he said. “I’m sorry to hear about her death.”

  A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away. “Thank you. She was a lovely woman. A powerful witch. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her.”

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re a lovely woman, Mila. The loveliest I’ve ever seen. And, strong, smart, beautiful. If it were up to me, I’d exalt you as a queen, and not a mistress, or a concubine.”

  Mila exhaled, captured by his gaze, stunned by the power of his words.

  She looked at his lips, desperate to taste them.

  “Mila,” he said, lowering his voice as he let her face go. “I have an idea.”

  “And, what is that?”

  “I have a mind to make you my wife.”

  The blanket fell from her shoulders as she sat up straighter.

  Wife?

  “What? Are you being serious?”

  Theron took her hands into his. “Listen. I know what you’re thinking. But, my father wants to marry me off to a foreign princess. What better way to breach the divide between High Faes and humans than to make you my wife?”

  “You’re not being serious, are you? Is this for the mission, to save you from an unwanted marriage, or because you really want me?”

  The answer was far too important.

  Theron stared at her and didn’t say a word.

  Instead, he slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her into a kiss that took her breath away.

  Taken aback, Mila’s eyes widened at first. This—was what she craved.

  Then, her shoulders relaxed and Theron kissed her so tenderly that she melted into him, her chest pressing against his as she leaned forward. He took her legs and wrapped them around his hard waist and she moaned.

  Breathless and heated from her core to her neck, she moaned as his tongue entered her mouth. As she looked at Theron, she realized that she’d just complicated things, and there was no turning back. He kissed her hand and stood.

  “There’s the answer to your question,” Theron said before smoothing his hair back and turning to leave the room. “You don’t have to answer right away. But, I do hope you will accept.”

  Stunned, Mila watched him walk away. Her heart raced, her body still warm from the desire she felt for him.

  She licked her lips, still tasting him and her eyes closed.

  I’m in trouble.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Wake up, my lady,” Vera called.

  Mila opened her eyes and groaned. For once, her dreams had been pleasant. Theron held her hand, walking her along the coast on a warm summer night. There were flowers in her hair, and she wore a smile for him that made her heart flutter as she began to awaken.


  Love.

  Could it truly be?

  No, she told herself. This is all a game.

  “Go away,” she grumbled, covering her head with the plush white comforter on her bed. Since her time in the prince’s manor, she’d adapted to his lifestyle; sleeping during the day and awakening with the moon.

  Vera snatched the covers off of her. “No, ma’am,” she said. “The Prince has summoned you.”

  “Fine,” Mila said, sitting up. She stretched her arms above her head, and ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

  “He’s waiting for you in the garden,” Vera said, urging her to stand. “Now, let’s get you dressed.”

  Mila stood from her bed and swung open the door to her wardrobe. Inside were the tailored gowns the twins had made for her.

  “Did he say anything in particular?” Mila asked as she pulled out a vibrant yellow dress.

  “Please ask Lady Mila to join me today,” she said, mimicking Theron’s voice.

  Mila glanced at her, a grin taking over her face.

  Perhaps he had been genuine the night before. There might be a chance that they could have something real.

  “Well, tell him I’m coming down,” Mila said, pulling her nightgown off. She stepped into the dress and pulled the straps over her arms, her freckles stark against her white skin.

  “You’re not going to bathe?” Vera asked, lifting a brow. “A lady would bathe before a night out with the prince…”

  Mila snatched the dress off and ran into the washroom. “Don’t let him leave without me. I’ll be right out!”

  “Leave without you? Dear girl, he would never.” Vera said as Mila stepped into the porcelain tub and she poured warm, scented water over her.

  She poured more water onto Mila’s head as she scrubbed herself with a cloth saturated with soap that smelled of vanilla beans.

  She let Vera rinse all of the suds down her body and scrub her hair, seemingly washing away all of the negative feelings she’d had that week.

  She liked him more than she’d let on, and that was apparent now.

  After she finished, she wrung her hair out and pulled it into a tight wet bun at the top of her head. Vera gave her a mortified look when she saw it, but Mila ran past her before she could say anything.