WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye (7 page)

“Is that necessary?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Do I sense a hint of jealousy, my friend?” Maeve traced the birthmark across Rhiannon's stomach. “Ahh, the royal mark. The proof we need.” Oblivious to Cerne's glare, Maeve continued with her examination.

“I've already given her a thorough inspection, Maeve. There’s no need.” Cerne stalked toward Maeve and grabbed her arm.

Maeve grinned. “Excellent! The consort is in love. This will make the joining easier.” She let out a throaty chuckle.

Cerne narrowed his eyes. Love? He thought not. “I don’t think so, Maeve. She has a delectable body I could never grow bored of, but it isn't love. Love is nonexistent for us Silverwings.”

“You honestly don't believe that prophecy. It was made long before Korrigan took the throne.” Maeve shook her head. “You Silverwings take the ramblings of ancient faeries too seriously.”

Cerne gritted his teeth. “Silverwings are known for breeding powerful prophets. When the prophecy involves our kin, we take it very seriously.” Maeve shrugged then smiled. “So you won't mind me prophesying, as well?” She closed her eyes and lifted her hands. “Oh Great Mother and Father of the Otherworld, show me what cannot be seen.” Her eyes flickered and her body shuddered. She opened her eyes. “Cerne Silverwing shall spend an eternity enjoying endless sex, love and laughter.” A giant grin curved her lips. “Enjoy your prophecy. We'll be in the Princess's chamber if we're needed.” Placing her hand on Rhiannon's shoulder, she snapped her fingers. Both women evaporated into a bright blue mist.

The princess was home. His mission was almost complete. He would soon gain his wings.

After all, that's all he wanted, wasn’t it?

Korrigan sat back in her throne. She loved the way the black leather of her gown clung to her curves. She tapped her high-heeled boot against the grey stone floor. Dark clad tapestries in velvet and satin flowed about her. Her plans were falling into place. She could feel it. Perhaps she could afford some sport.

“Sionnach!” she shouted.

Sionnach appeared in the room. His muscled legs molded to the black leather breeches he wore, and his bare chest rippled and glistened in the dim light. His dark, braided hair hung over a broad shoulder. “Yes, My Queen?”

She wanted this man beneath her. “Stand in front of me. I’m going to look at your body.” Smiling, she reached over and grabbed the cat-o-nine tails that sat next to her throne.

Sionnach nodded and approached the Dark Faerie Queen. “As you wish, my mistress.” Korrigan flicked the whip in her hand and licked her lips. “You’re learning well, my subject. Undo your breeches and bend over. Slowly, I want to savor this.” She held her whip up high, waiting for his bare flesh to appear.

The doors to the Royal Chamber swung open, interrupting her play. “Can't you see I'm occupied?” Korrigan growled. She threw down the whip in disgust. “This better be fucking important.”

“I beg your pardon, My Queen. It's very important.” The guard glanced around nervously.

Korrigan glared. “Well, don't just stand there like a bloody idiot. Speak!” The bearded man shuddered in his boots. Korrigan grinned, enjoying the sight of a man cowering before her. She picked up her whip and fluttered the tails in her hand.

“I...ah...” The incompetent guard let out an audible gulp. “Cerne Silverwing has retrieved their princess.” He lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Princess Rhiannon has crossed through?” Korrigan growled, flicking her whip harder.

“That's impossible. Aine assured me the princess had been dealt with.”

“A trusted source has confirmed her—”

“Silence!” Korrigan shrieked. “Both of you undress yourselves and head for the swings.”

“I haven't done anything wrong, My Queen,” Sionnach replied.

She lashed the cat-o-nine tails across his bare back. “You have now. Never defy an order.

When I return, you had both better be hanging. I want to enjoy your punishments.” She rose from her chair and strode out from the Dark Palace throne room toward Aine's chamber.

She found her sister, sitting in front of her looking glass, brushing her curly hair and whistling a cheerful tune while drawing a brush through each unruly lock. “You and I have much to talk about, sister,” Korrigan seethed. She ripped the brush from Aine's hand and whipped it against the mirror, sending shards of glass exploding in the air.

“W-What is wrong?” Aine stammered, wringing her hands tight.

Korrigan fisted her sister's disgusting curls and pulled her face up to hers with a ruthless tug.

“What's wrong, you ask? You dim-witted fool. You can't do anything right. You’re a disgrace to the Dark Faerie people.”

“I don't understand. I did what was necessary to help you,” Aine squeaked.

Pitiful wretch.
She had to be a by-blow. No true Dark Faerie of royal blood would act like such a buffoon.

“What exactly did you do?” Korrigan lessened her grip. She softly stroked Aine's hair to coax an answer from her. Biting her tongue, she soothed, “I won't get upset, Aine.” Aine nibbled her lip. It was a habit Korrigan knew well. Aine was nervous. The stupid fool had no backbone.
Disgusting.
Perhaps a beating would help harden her sister's will, just as it had her.

“I went to Earth like you asked.”

“And?” Korrigan tapped her toe.

“I used mugwort root to take over her friend’s mind. I persuaded her not to trust him. She believed me, I’m certain.”

Korrigan raised her hand and slapped Aine's face, sending her reeling back. “If you've succeeded, why is it Princess Rhiannon is now here, in Fey, ensconced at White Court?” Aine reached up and rubbed her ruddy cheek. “That's impossible!” Korrigan narrowed her eyes, her fury yet to be unleashed. “When I said 'In any way possible', that's exactly what I meant. Princess Rhiannon should be dead, you imbecile.” She balled her hands into tight fists that threatened to draw blood. “Be thankful you’re my sister.

Your punishment won’t be as severe.”

Korrigan stood proud. “I'll send for you in one hour's time. Wear something more appropriate.” She grabbed the black gossamer gown and ripped it off Aine’s body. Korrigan smirked. Oh, Aine's punishment would not be harsh, but it would definitely leave its mark. She twisted around and marched out the door, slamming it behind her.

~*~*~

Korrigan smirked, watching Sionnach hang from the swing. He was stronger than she realized and it would be a pleasure to break his spirit. Her pathetic guard hadn’t lasted near as long as her virile White Faerie slave. The other guards had since come and pulled his miserable, whimpering form from the swinging restraints, finally leaving her alone with Sionnach.

His long, sleek braid dangled as he swayed back and forth. As if she hadn't noticed his and Aine's attraction for each other. Sparks flew anywhere they crossed paths. Korrigan would be damned if she'd share one of her pleasure-slaves with her brainless little sister.

She stroked Sionnach's bulging biceps in lazy circles. “I have a special treat for you, slave.” Smiling, she traced her fingertip along his rock-hard chest, flicked a nipple and pinched it hard while she moved her tongue against his lips. She glanced up at his pulsing shaft as it stiffened.

Wonderful.
Watching her pleasure the man she fancied would be the perfect punishment for Aine.

“Thus proving the man doesn't always think with his heart.” She turned to one of the palace guards. “Send for my sister.”

“Yes, My Queen.” The guard flitted his wings and floated out of the chamber.

She pulled a lever, lowering Sionnach. “Awfully quiet today, slave. Will you be near as quiet as I pleasure you in front of my sister?”

“What has Aine done?” the slave asked. “She’s been nothing but loyal to your cause.”

“Defiance does not become you, slave.” Korrigan grabbed the whip from her throne and flicked her wrist. She grinned, enjoying Sionnach’s wince as the whip licked his nipples. She grabbed his cock as the door creaked open and slamming her mouth up and down his shaft, she turned her head to see Aine standing there. With a wry smile, she continued to pleasure Sionnach. Her smile grew to a wide grin, hearing Sionnach try and fight the groan that erupted from his mouth. Then he came on her lips.

“That wasn't an acceptable performance, slave. Perhaps your attentions were elsewhere?” She held the whip high. Aine's loud gasp echoed along with the sound of the whip slapping against his cock. Sionnach groaned in pain and Aine slumped to the ground in a fit of tears.

Korrigan spat on Sionnach in disgust. “Have fun in the Outer Realm.” With a wide smirk, she shot a bolt of lightning at him from her fingers.
How dare he turn his eyes to someone else!

The darkest and bleakest corner of Otherworld would be the perfect place for him. A bright flash of light surrounded him. When it faded, Sionnach was gone.

She turned to Aine with a sneer. “There's your punishment, my dear sister. Now be gone.” She lashed out her fist, sending Aine flying backwards out the large doors. Korrigan commanded the door slam shut, spun toward her throne, picked her whip off the floor and grinned. She had a war to plan. No one would dare defy the future queen of all faeriedom. She swished the lash and took her seat on the throne. With news of Rhiannon’s return, she needed a new course of action.

~*~*~

Rhiannon sighed, stretching her arms. She cuddled and scrunched her large fluffy pillow.

She hadn’t had this good a sleep in God knows how long. One moment she was kissing Cerne and the next moment she was in bed. Hah! She knew he wasn’t real. She let her eyes stay closed a few more minutes, enjoying the extra few moments of shuteye, and breathed in the crisp air around her. The aroma of fresh flowers and fragrant herbs mingling with exotic fruits lingered in the air. It smelled like heaven—her own private botanical garden.

Twisting in the luxurious sheets that were a tad bit silkier than they used to be, she opened her eyes.

What the fuck?

This wasn’t her bed. It wasn’t even her room. A giant four-poster bed that enveloped her sat in the center of a white marble room. Violet and lavender sheer swags draped against the posts of the bed. The silken-sheeted mattress molded to her body like a glove. Sleep Number be damned.

This bed was coming back home with her. She looked over and spotted her bikini top lying on the foot of an elegant gold chaise. This got freakier as the day went on.

“Oh, wonderful. You’re awake,” a rich, feminine voice echoed from the corner. The being, who appeared to be floating, smiled and approached Rhiannon. Long blonde braids fluttered in

time with the wings on her back.

Wings? Hell no! Not this shit again.
This had gone too damn far.

“You can tell whoever set this practical joke up that it isn’t funny.” The only person who knew her well enough was Lara. And frankly, Lara appeared to have gone off the deep end too.

Must be the water, Rhiannon decided. She racked her brain, trying to think of who else could’ve done something so idiotic?

“Ben?” She’d turned down Ben Madison in the programming department a week ago to go to a performance of
A Midsummer’s Night’s Eve
at Shakespeare in the Park. He was the only logical suspect.

“No, not Ben,” the beautiful faerie-costumed lady replied. “And I assure you, my wings are real.” She fluttered them back and forth.

“So you’ve lost your faerie cherry?” Rhiannon asked, remembering Cerne’s explanation on how faeries obtained their wings. At the woman’s blank expression, Rhiannon continued.

“You’ve gotten laid...knocked boots...fucked?”

“Humans can be so crass when it comes to intimacy.” She sighed. “To be honest, one can lose their, as your human friends say, virginity, without gaining their wings.” The golden-haired woman shook her head and rolled her eyes. “There is so much Cerne did not tell you.”

“Let me guess. You must be dear old mom,” Rhiannon replied with sarcasm. “Come give your long lost daughter a big hug.” She opened her arms wide.

The woman threw back her head and chuckled. “Dearest Rhiannon, I’m not your mother, but I do thank you for the compliment. No one in Fey, save for you, matches Queen Titania in beauty.”

What is this woman smoking?
Even though the faerie was a little off her rocker, she was smokin’ hot.

“Well if you aren’t my mother, who the fuck are you? My faerie godmother?”

“I love your wit, Princess Rhiannon. Your mother will be pleased you’ve inherited her sense of humor.” She took a seat next to Rhiannon on the bed. “I’m Maeve Windsong, one of the White Faerie elders.” She extended her hands to Rhiannon.

Rhiannon raised an eyebrow. “I’m not your princess. I already tried telling that to Cerne. I have to go home. I need to finish my presentation for work. My promotion is riding on it.”

“This is your life. You are our princess. The life you were living before is a lie.” Maeve

gazed at her with crystal green eyes.

Oh my God, does everyone here have green eyes?
Talk about inbreeding. No wonder these folks were out of their gourds.

Maeve reached out and stroked Rhiannon’s hair, brushing some from her face. “I realize it’s a little hard to comprehend, but you must accept your destiny.”

“My destiny is Hobart and Johnson Design Group. I’m going to be a Senior Design Analyst.”

“Sounds tedious.” Maeve yawned. “Slaving away day in and day out for what? Humans are so absurd at times. A wealth beyond imagination will be yours, Rhiannon. All you need to do is accept the challenge.”

“How many things do I need to accept? First, Cerne said there was my fate, and there was my destiny. Now there’s a challenge? Can’t you faeries keep your shit in order?” Rhiannon threw her hands up in exasperation.

Maeve threw her head back and laughed. “They are all relative, my dear.” Maeve’s peridot crystal eyes pleaded with her. “Without challenges we’ll never learn our fate, and without fate we’ll never fulfill our destinies.”

Great. This winged psycho was going all philosophical now. Psychology and philosophy did not mix. “I don’t know who put you up to this, but I really need this promotion.” She searched for her cell phone.