Cursed King (Dark Court of the Fae Book 1) by Moira Wolf

Author:Moira Wolf [Wolf, Moira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Publisher: Moira Wolf
Published: 2022-11-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“It won’t work.”

Lachlan ground his teeth in frustration as he stared at the seven-foot fae. A prince. They had grown up together. Sparring. Debauching mortals. But that had been a thousand years ago. Things changed. “I don’t ask for help lightly, Demetrius.”

Demetrius let his opalescent eyes wander over to Eve. His distaste hovered in the air. The fae shoved away from his massive table carved of ancient stone from Crete. The table had seen the birth of many spells and curses. “And I don’t give runes to lesser beings.”

“Excuse me?” demanded Eve, her green eyes flaring wide. The temper flamed in them, and she placed a fisted hand on her hip. “Look fae boy—”

Demetrius’s eyebrows rose the merest fraction. “Fae boy? And you are what, mortal? A whole twenty-four years?”

She glared back at him. “And you’re probably geriatric. Maybe I should break out the cornmeal mush.”

Demetrius swung his cool gaze to Lachlan. “Perhaps you should consider buying your new pet a leash.”

Lachlan exhaled, anger suddenly pumping through his system. “She is not my pet, and though I know it is beyond you, Demetrius, a little respect, brother?”

“Lachlan’s right,” she said, her voice saccharine sweet. “You know, your looks don’t make up for being an ass. Try a little charm.”

Demetrius sneered down his golden-tanned nose. “Perhaps you should heed your own words, mortal. Entreat me, and then perhaps I shall help you.”

Eve’s eyes narrowed to slits, and she cocked her head to the side. “You’ll have to say hi to Hades first.”

“Eve,” Lachlan said softly, trying to keep the building irritation from his voice. Gods, she was not helping things. But he admired it about her, her inability to back down from a bigger, badder being.

It was shocking that she had not met her death years ago.

She’d been waiting for him …

The thought shot through him, and he winced. That couldn’t be right. But … it felt right. Damned right.

Lachlan closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped between the two. He should have known the two alpha types would clash. “She’s not asking for help, Demetrius. I am.”

“She wouldn’t even be contaminating my presence if it weren’t for you.” Demetrius clasped Lachlan on the shoulder, tugging him to the side and leaving Eve standing with a hand on her hip and a pissed expression on her lush face.

Under the growing light of dawn, Demetrius’s blond hair shone gold, a gift from his mother. But his powerful frame was all warrior.

“What the hell are you doing?” Demetrius whispered. “You try to take her into our fold, and they will tear her apart. Tissue by tissue. After they’ve played tag the torture on the mortal.”

Lachlan glanced back at the black-haired warrior who was his last chance at freedom. She’d never spend time with him if he couldn’t lead her to Lugh. And then she’d never fall for him.

“It has to be done.”

The muscles in Demetrius’s jaw tightened. “Whatever you’re after, you want it bad. Too bad. Because you’ve stopped thinking.”

“I’m still here,” she said, her voice an irritated singsong.

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