**ASH**
I am in possession of a very bad migraine as I toss three stones into the river. I await Klyesque along the shoreline and think of my little dove, asleep in the tower.
She asked me to save her from the king.
I did not expect that. For her to ask me was a shock and momentarily put a shadow over my plans. I almost said yes. I almost told her I could take her away, to such a place she would always be safe. The glimmer in her eyes, the way she looked to me for protection, it was all clouding my judgement.
I have been planning this for too long.
She means nothing, she is a human.
But still...
I cannot shake the rage that found me when the king put his hands on her. That disgusting oaf. I will admit, at first, she had me fooled. I thought she had decided to make the most of her situation. And while this would ultimately grant me what I want, I did not like it one bit.
Then when the king spoke of the faerie he murdered... Rage. Hot white anger surged through me and I found myself working for control.
He noticed her attention on me. He tried to belittle me in front of her. As if she cared one stitch about whether I was royal or not.
No.
She wanted me, I was certain of it.
The way her body strained to be closer to mine, the way she was always looking toward me for comfort. It was-
\-fascinating.
Eventually, I will have to allow the king to take her, but not tonight.
I placed her in a deep sleep and cast a ward over her door when I left. I will know if anyone disturbs her slumber. Will I be able to stand by and let that old bastard touch her when it comes time? I am beginning to wonder.
Maybe I should resume the search for a suitable princess. Then I could help her escape.
*Stop it!*
*She is the one. She has to be.*
“Ash!”
“Klyesque,” I sigh. “Perfect. Follow me.”
I take Klyesque the back way, through the kitchens, then around the throne room to the tower. I have already slipped faerie wine into the guard’s tankards, and they are fast asleep against the wall.
“Come,” I say, and I lead her to my little dove’s room.
“She’s lovely,” Klyesque smiles, looking at me strangely.
“What?” I snap, growing impatient.
She smiles at me knowingly. “You like her.”
“Shut it.”
“Perhaps we should just take her and her sisters to Faerie and let the chips fall where they may.”
“Are you mad?” I ask, incredulous.
“It’s just strange that you seek to protect the girl you wish to sacrifice,” she smirks.
“Klyesque.”
“Okay,” she sighs, biting her lip and watching me gather Daphne in my arms. “But remember I said it. I want credit for this when that little glimmering beauty becomes your salvation.”
**DAPHNE**
I awaken in the middle of the night with my tummy rumbling. My body is incredibly hot and the shadows around me are somewhat unfamiliar. A heavy warmth is draped over my torso, and I sigh in contentment.
There’s a body pressed against mine. A smooth skinned, exquisitely scented, creature. Cut with muscles and expelling steady, even breath. This individual also has a vice like grip around my waist. I blink. It is a man. He sleeps on his stomach, his face turned toward me, his back on full display.
I sit up.
I am not in my room.
I am wearing an unfamiliar tunic that is much too large in the front, causing my breasts to spill out halfway.
*Oh my God.*
*Who???*
“Go back to sleep, little dove,” someone whispers sleepily.
“Ash?” I chirp. My breasts are near bare, and my nipples harden at the sound of his voice.
Glancing down to my left, I attempt to make his face out in the firelight.
He’s there. I can see him, and he appears to be naked.
My heart is beating like a steady bass drum as I struggle to remember what happened before I fell asleep.
Ash was laying on me.
In my room.
I remember feeling his manhood pressed against me. But-
\-nothing else.
I could remember nothing else.
Am I in his room? This bed is much larger than my own and the furniture in here is dressed in a velvet so dark I couldn’t be certain there was color to it at all.
The windows are covered in heavy black curtains and a looking glass is set next to the fireplace. Flames crackle and pop inside of the hearth, casting a yellow glow about the chamber. As my eyes adjust, I realize, his arm lay over my middle.
“Oh my,” I breathe.
Suddenly, his left hand comes to life atop my abdomen and slides up my sternum, pressing me back into the feather pillows.
“Sleep,” he says again.
“Why am I in your bed?” I ask, turning to look at him. His eyes are closed, gloriously thick lashes rest upon his cheeks.
Finally, his eyelids flutter open, and he smirks.
“You mean to say, you don’t remember riding me like a pony before we fell asleep?”
I gasp, “I-what?”
Immediately, wetness pools at my core. An image of me naked and on top of him while he moans his pleasure, nearly choking me.
I have seen two people, couple before. When I was younger. My father used to bring women back to the house when he won gambling. These particular women were extremely fascinating creatures.
Ash’s eyes snap wide. “Don’t,” he breathes, his gaze wandering toward the opening of the tunic. “You’re going to make this so painful.”
“Don’t?” I question. “Don’t what? What am I doing in here? Did I really-” I start, then taking a breath, I continue, “-r-really ride you, l-like a pony?”
“Goddess,” he smirks, inching closer and sliding an exquisitely muscled leg over my bare thighs. “I wish,” he says. “But no, I was only teasing.”
“Oh,” I reply, disappointment evident in my tone. The hot, heavy weight of his leg tenses over mine and I am finding it hard to breathe properly.
“You asked me to save you,” he grins. “So, I did.”
“Y-You did?” I stammer. “By placing me in your bed? Will the king not be even more angry now?”
He pushes himself up on his forearms and gazes down at me. I can’t help myself, my eyes travel over his well-developed, muscular chest, and then settle on the outline of his powerful shoulders. My sight grows heavy with want as I once again feel his large member harden against my hip.
“Are you naked?” I ask, stupidly, and my hand develops a mind of its own, snaking its way over one of his arms.
He closes his eyes with a hiss. “Dove, please,” he says, and I feel his body tightening. Golden skin in the firelight shifts and moves in mechanical harmony, as his muscles strain against my touch.
“Please?” I whisper, the tilt of my head following my hand, as it dares to glide toward his abdomen.
His eyes snap toward my lips. “Now is not the best time for you to touch me. Not unless you want me inside of you.”
I gasp, snatching my hand back. Yet, he does not move from his place above me. Then, so slowly that I count my heartbeats, he lowers his lips to mine, stealing the barest of kisses before jerking himself back and off of me.
“Fuck,” he says and groans.
I blush and smile when I look at him, hoping my reaction is well hidden in the dark.
“How am I to return to my room this morning? And you never did say exactly why I am in here with you, and NOT in the tower with the king.”
He sits up, muscles coiled, every one of them visible. “No matter what happens today, just roll with it. The king should be very pleased with you this morning.”
I jolted upright, “D-did I-
“No,” he smiles. “Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” I’m going to throw up. I’m going to vomit right here.
“Worry not, little dove,” he says, standing and giving me a full frontal. “Nobody has ruined you. Yet.”
“Lovely,” I breathe, marveling at his naked form as he moves to pull on his trousers. The shadows and flames dance across his bare backside and I feel a tightening between my legs. There seems to be a shimmering of color across his back and chest and for the barest moment, I could swear I see writings there, but just as quickly, they are gone.
“I said the same thing when I undressed you.” He chuckles, turning and tossing me my dress.
“You undressed me?” I whisper.
His eyes go dark as he faces me, “I did. And though I wanted to, I didn’t take any more than an eyeful of pleasure. You are a woman made for pleasing and I intend to show you how, but not yet.”
I gulped, feeling hot and restless.
“May I ask you something else?” He walks over to me slowly, eyeing the bruises around my left breast. I nod to him. “The marks on you, were they all from Hayden?”
Again, I nod, blinking back tears.
His jaw clenches and dark energy climbs about the room before he gives himself a shake and it is gone. Then, reaching out to touch my face, he says, “No one will hurt you in that way ever again. Not for as long as I am around. I swear it. Not even the king. I will go and fetch Petra.”
“Petra?” I nearly shout.
He smirks. “Yes, Petra and I are old friends. She’s been here precisely as long as I have.”
How strange.