Rattled

Monster Mate Hunt, Book 1

 Sakura Black

Nightbloom Publishing
Copyright © 2023 by Sakura Black

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to
real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher or
author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Editor: Zainab M.

Cover: Phantom Dame

Chapter art: Luna Rose Digital

 Blurb

What if you were Selected?

Personally, I’ve never had much of an issue with the fae.

Sure, I was as surprised as any lass when they burst into our
world over a decade ago, but every race has its pricks, us
humans included.

When the fae leave their calling card in my bed, I’ve got no
choice but to go on the run, fleeing into the vast Scottish
Highlands. I’d been Selected, and nobody was going to bat an
eyelash when the fae came for me.

Where are they taking us and for what? It’s anybody’s guess,
but if I’d won a luxury cruise with topless hotties serving me
aged scotch, then why would they go to such lengths to hide
any information?

Hard pass on the kidnapping, thanks.

Unfortunately for me, the fae have sent one of their most
vicious hunters to chase me down—a sinfully scarred lamia
with fangs dripping venom.
 Unfortunately for him, I did years of military training in
these Highlands and I won’t be going down without a fight. It
might be cold out, but the thrill of the hunt is sure to heat my
blood.

Judging by the hungry looks he gives me whenever we

clash, I’m not the only one enjoying the chase…
 Contents

Also By Sakura Black

Foreword

Dedication
1. Kelsea
2. Kelsea

3. Kelsea

4. Kelsea
5. Rattle
6. Kelsea
7. Kelsea
8. Kelsea
9. Rattle
10. Kelsea
11. Kelsea

12. Kelsea
13. Rattle
14. Kelsea
15. Kelsea
16. Kelsea
17. Kelsea
18. Kelsea
Afterword

A little teaser…
About Author
Also By Sakura Black

Fae Mate Hunt Series (complete):

0.5 – The Nymph’s Dark Pleasure

1 – Selected for the Shifters

2 – Hunted by the Minotaur

3 – Burning for the Fire Nymphs

4 – Fleeing the Feline King

5 – Their Concubine Queen

Monster Mate Hunt Series:

1 – Rattled

1 – Get Foxed (coming soon)

Playing with Demons Series:

1 – Take Me to Hell

2 – Capturing Sin (coming soon)

 For all the latest book release information, subscribe to
Sakura’s newsletter at sakurablackbooks.com and for a limited
time, get a FREE bonus short story – The Nymph’s Dark
Pleasure. Warning: it’s a steamy one!
 Foreword

Thank you for picking up this book!

Just a little word of warning, the book you are about to read
contains swearing, violence and steamy scenes with a magical
fae male (because monsters need love too). Please head to
sakurablackbooks.com to check the trigger warnings for this
book.

If you have delicate sensibilities, maybe give this one a hard

swerve…
For all those who think it would be fun to get rattled by a
monster…
Chapter One
 Kelsea

“M
ost men would be put off by a girl with muscles
like that, but I still think you look hot,” a smooth
male voice almost shouted by my ear.

I didn’t bother turning around.

Anyone opening with the classic ‘negging’ trick wasn’t

going to be getting any action from me. He could look like an
Adonis sent from Cupid to soak my panties, and I’d still tell
him to go fuck himself after such a sly insult.

The man hovered, clearly not getting the hint. Maybe he

thought my tiny female brain needed longer to absorb his
underhanded compliment before swooning.

I took a sip of my drink, savouring the creaminess of the

thick stout, then placed the pint down onto the sticky wood.
The dark liquid dropped too close to the bottom of the glass
for my liking.
 “And yet you think it’s smart to pick me up with a line like
that? How do you think I got so toned, pal?”

“Are you threatening me?” He scoffed, a small noise for so

much entitled disbelief. “I knew you’d be a fucking dyke. If
you don’t like dick, just say so.”

I whirled around and brushed a stray lock of indigo back

behind my ear as I assessed the sneering idiot, determined to
ruin my already crappy night.

Classically handsome, if on the slightly plain boy-next-door

vibe, with perfect skin, bright blue eyes and a generous mop of
sandy blonde hair, he was good-looking and confident enough
that I’d bet he didn’t usually get rejected.

“Oh no, I love dick.” I licked my lips at an exaggerated slow

pace. “Just the thought of a big throbbing cock sets my pussy
all a-flutter. What I don’t like are sour puckered arseholes who
think putting a girl down is the way to drop her panties along
with her self-esteem. Now, fuck off before I show you what I
really like.”

I just wanted to be left alone to enjoy my pint in peace. The

light buzz was a bit too soothing, but I needed something to
help me unwind. My day had been bad enough already.

“Shoulda known from that Halloween hair you’d be a

fucking freak,” he said, purposefully loud enough for me to
hear.

Rage surged through me, heating my blood until the stifling

warmth of the crowded pub felt like a cool breeze.
 I stood, barstool scraping against the floorboards, and faced
the arsehole about to learn some manners.

A firm palm hit my backside. And squeezed.

“At least she’s got a great arse!” Another male chuckled, the
sound booming obnoxiously loud in my ears as he tightened
his hold on my goodies.

Sour Puckered Arsehole smirked at the man who’d crept up

behind me.

The fact I’d let not one, but two mean sneak up on me just
went to show how far I’d fallen.

I’d had enough of entitled men trying to take from me

without consequence. Before I knew it, I swung.

My fist smacked into Sour Puckered Arsehole’s smirking

face. His perfectly straight nose gave way with a satisfying
crunch and spurt of blood. He stumbled back with a pained
yell, crashing into the table behind him. A group of startled
fire nymphs snarled at him as several of their pints shattered,
spraying glass and ale.

The idiot at my back released my cheek. “What the f—”

I gripped the bar for support, snapping back a vicious kick.

Right to the nads.

A pained whine accompanied the sound of a body dropping

to the ground, clattering several barstools to the floor with
him.
 A few seats over, a wrinkled minotaur spluttered out a
hacking laugh, quaking the golden bullring in his nose. “Fuck
yeah, human! Go, donkey-kick another dude in the balls!”

I grunted, ignoring the cackling old man as I assessed the

crowded bar for threats, but Sour Puckered Arsehole had
disappeared.

With any obvious aggressors eliminated, I turned my

attention to the handsy scumbag I’d downed. Like his friend,
he was somewhat handsome, but with a shaved head and
apparently more muscles than sense. He gripped his crotch,
groaning as he rolled side to side across the worn floorboards.

“Ooh, in yer neep and tatties, eh? That’s gotta hurt.” I patted
his cheek sarcastically, watching his eyes dart wildly at the
little slaps. “Never touch someone without their permission,
Chuckles. Next time, I’ll pull my fucking blade instead. Yours
wouldn’t be the first diddly haggis I’ve skewered.”

Straightening, I bared my teeth at him, enjoying the rush of

adrenaline that accompanied the quick brawl even as I stuffed
down the dark memories that tried to surge up like toxic
sludge.

Chuckles began pushing himself up with a groan.

“Stay down!” I snarled.

He paused at whatever he saw on my face before easing back

to the floor. At least I’d not lost all my badass bitch vibes.

Leaving the whiny prick on the floor, I stepped back up to

the bar, quickly righting my stool. I was more than ready for a
fresh drink.

The bartender planted his hands on the worn top and raised a
bushy salt-and-pepper brow. “You know you cannae stay after
a stunt like that.”

I scowled, my victorious high ceding under the mounting

injustice. “You’re really gonna kick me out? Those pricks
were fucking asking for it, and you know it.”

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Doona matter what I

know.”

A worn sign clung to the faded wallpaper above rows of

clear spirits, reading ‘Take it OUTSIDE’.

My eyes narrowed, the fire in my chest sparking as anger

whispered in my ear like the devil, trying to lure me into
lashing out. Gritting my teeth against the urge to throw a
tantrum, I notched my chin instead. “Fine. But doona think I’ll
be coming back again.”

The grizzled man shrugged. “Sorry, lassie. Rules are rules.”

My shoulders hiked up at that saying. That bloody fucking

saying.

“Aye, rules are rules. But morals are fucking morals,” I

snarled, baring my teeth like some shifter fae gone feral.

I ripped my jacket off the barstool and stalked towards the

exit.

Sour Puckered Arsehole reappeared through the crowd,

stepping into my path despite the blood leaking from his
newly crooked nose. His handsome face twisted in a rage to
match my own. Blood smeared his cheek and jaw, making him
look like a particularly messy vampire.

I didn’t break stride, barrelling straight into his taller frame.

He bounced off me with a high-pitched yelp, but I was too
annoyed to truly enjoy the sound.

I shoved the heavy door open, stepping out into the biting
cold. The chill robbed me of my well-deserved buzz, leaving
me worse off than I’d started the evening—exhausted and
bitter. I slipped my leather jacket on with a steady exhale, but
it was already too late for my feeble attempt at inebriation.

The moon peered at me, judging my life choices as I looked

around the empty street.

Now what?
Chapter Two
 Kelsea

W
ind gusted, whipping my plum-coloured locks around
my face in a mini purple cyclone.

“For fuck’s sake,” I grumbled, shoving my wild mane back

behind my ears as I trudged towards home. My hair usually
enjoyed being a curly nightmare, but ever since I’d dyed it this
dark hue, it seemed to have a will of its own.

Which was getting into my mouth as often as my last

boyfriend.

The chill seeped beneath my leather jacket as I walked,

raising goosebumps along my arms. At least it was a cloudless
night, revealing a few winking stars to flank a thin sliver of
moon. I still half-expected it to rain anyway.

Welcome to Scotland.

The streets were quiet, only a few people spilling from a

nearby pub as I passed. They quickly dispersed with a half-
hearted farewell and power-walked to cars parked further
down the road.

A wolf whistle sliced through the hush.

On instinct, I reached for the knife at the small of my back. I

strained to detect any threats.

Frustrated, I rolled my eyes at my own edginess. Just

because I’d played the victim once didn’t mean I would
permanently star in that role.

Head swivelling, despite my internal pep talk, I scanned the

canal and quiet street as I powered towards my home and the
warmth it promised. As soon as I got in, I’d treat myself to a
glass of scotch. Two fingers, one cube. I wasn’t one of those
snooty whiskey purists who refused the let real ice sully their
drink. Besides, since getting unceremoniously booted from the
Navy, I was too poor for little luxuries like whiskey stones.

I’d light the log burner tonight and get cosy with a guilty
pleasure dark romance novel before bed. After the rough day
I’d had, getting rejection after rejection from every job I’d
applied for, something extra spicy was in order.

It was only a half-hour walk home through the quiet streets

of Inverness, but I slowed my pace to head south along the
canal, savouring the night as I followed the winding River
Ness. Something about the darkness had always comforted
me. The way I could just be myself with no one to watch or
judge me. It was freeing. Just me, the crescent moon and the
pale stars.
 “Stop! Please! Someone, help!” A shrill voice shattered the
peace.

Instantly on high alert, I scanned the night.

The sounds of a scuffle followed. Sprinting towards the

noise, I raced along the canal. A small side road branched off
the main street. I halted at a corner and peered around the edge
of a dark café.

Deep within the alleyway, barely illuminated by a streetlight

at the far end, an enormous man held a slender fae pinned to
the wall. The fae’s stubby bat-like wings beat frantically
against the bricks in useless panic as he tried to rip the male’s
hands from his neck. Long, pointed ears turned an alarming
shade of purple.

A woman, swamped in a puffer jacket, stood beside the burly

strangler, grinning viciously. “Fuckin’ fae scum.” She sneered.
“Go back to yer own world.”

My lip curled in disgust. With Faerie dying, most of the fae

had sought refuge here. After the Great War, humans and fae
had finally signed the Peace Accords, meaning this had
become their world almost as much as ours. With a few
interesting rules, of course.

She slammed her fist into the fae’s cheek, snapping his head
aside with the force.

I moved, swift and silent.

I stomped the back of the strangler’s knee, causing his

weight to buckle with a shocked grunt. He dipped and I
slammed my elbow into his temple, relishing the vicious strike
as he released his victim. The fae landed in a gasping heap on
the floor.

Before I could finish the strangler off with a knee to his face,
the woman was on me, fist looming in my periphery.
Adrenaline coursed through me, crystallising the moment. I
snapped my forearm up as I spun, knocking the blow off-
course with a smack I heard more than felt.

I grinned as she tried to roundhouse kick me next, stepping

back to dodge the sloppy move and smashing my fist into her
jaw, using her momentum to add impact. Eyes rolling back,
she hit the cobblestones.

An enraged roar revved my instincts. I twisted, protecting

my chin as a fist pounded against my raised arm, reverberating
the bone. With a hiss, I ducked the strangler’s next punch,
following it up with a solid hook to his paunchy middle.

He stumbled back with a wheeze, clutching his side. In the

next breath, he sneered. “Fuckin’ bitch, yer gonna regret tha.”

I reached for the blade at the base of my spine and drew it

from its kydex sheath, angling it. “Oh goodie, big boy wants to
play.”

He took one look at the wicked fixed blade, glanced at his

unconscious friend, and made the smart decision. Raising his
free hand in surrender, he edged backwards in an awkward
shuffle. “Hey, look, lass, I didn’t mean nothing by it. Just
showin’ this alien his place, yeah?”
 Enraged, I snarled, “You racist piece of shit. Fuck off before
I get knife-happy and show you your place, bleeding out
beneath my boot.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” he grunted, but turned and fled, leaving

his friend on the floor.

Roundhouse was already coming to.

I sheathed the knife and offered a hand up to the fae

crumpled against the bricks. “Come on, let’s clear out.”

He blinked up at me in a daze, owlish eyes slightly

unfocussed. His sooty lashes were so long I could have sworn
they created their own breeze with every blink. “What?”

I frowned, scanning his slender frame for injuries. Other than

the angry marks around his long neck, he seemed ok, but I
knew more about causing damage than I did fixing it. “Can
you stand?” I asked, keeping my palm outstretched.

He eyed it for another suspicious beat before taking it. Cold

and bony, yet surprisingly strong, he gripped my hand, letting
me heave him up.

I couldn’t help marvelling at the unique texture to his semi-

flared wings. They looked like the material love child of
marble and leather. I was half-tempted to run my fingers along
their length, just to feel their texture. Though after my own
groping incident this evening, I was intimately familiar with
just how unacceptable it was to start getting handsy with
strangers.
 “Why did you help me?” he blurted, yanking his hand back
to wrap his arms around his middle, fluttering his grey wings
restlessly as they shuffled against his back.

“Because you were literally shouting ‘someone help!’…?”

He narrowed his eyes, features turning hawkish. “So, you

came running in like a berserking minotaur to slay my
enemies?”

A wry smile twitched my lips. “Well, you were being beaten

up in an alley…”

“Humans don’t normally save random fae,” he drawled,

flashing short fangs.

“Yup, well, whatever race you are, you shouldn’t be

strangled for that.” I shrugged. “Do you need help getting
home? Because I gotta go before I get arrested for assault or
something.”

That was the last thing I needed right now. I already had zero
qualifications and a questionable discharge from the military; I
didn’t want to find out how hard life on civvie street would be
with a criminal record thrown into the mix.

The cagey male wavered for another moment before his

hardened exterior melted, revealing a youthful softness to his
features. “Thank you for saving my life. It’s good to know not
all humans want us dead.”

I snorted. “Every race has its dickheads.”

Didn’t I know it. Even though I’d been trained to fight the
fae, it was my own kind I’d needed to watch out for in the end.
 “Ain’t that the truth?” He stepped forward, shaking out his
short wings before holding out a hand. “I’m Jorah, first
nephew of the Gargoyle King.”

It was my turn to leave him hanging as my mouth popped

open. “Well, tickle my haggis and call me Nessie. You’re a
gargoyle? A royal one?”

Gargoyles were one of the many fae types, known as castes.

Among the most powerful and bloodthirsty at that. The grey
hue to his skin and the leathery wings should have been a dead
giveaway, but apparently, my brain was taking a hiatus.

An adorable purple tinge coloured his full cheeks. He

cleared his throat, shifting on his clawed feet. “Yes, well,
please don’t tell anyone that two humans got the better of me,
ok? I’ll never hear the end of it and my over-protective uncle
will double my training.” He grimaced, as if the idea of more
training was far worse than being beaten up by strangers.

I chuckled at his almost comical expression. At least if he

was worried about his reputation, he wasn’t too badly hurt by
the whole strangulation thing. “Your secret is safe with me,
Jorah. I’m Kelsea, but you can call me Kel.”

“Fae whore,” a voice hissed.

I glanced down at the woman struggling to push herself up to

sitting. About time lazybones got up from her nap.

“I saved a guy from being choked out, and that makes me a

whore?” I raised my fist, eyeing it speculatively. “Wow. The
power to induce insanity, huh?”
 Jorah chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re a funny human.”

I flashed the fae a grin, letting Roundhouse find her feet

before I snapped a vicious kick into her middle. She tumbled
onto her back, struggling for breath and flopping about like a
fish on dry land.

I met Jorah’s shocked stare with a saucy wink. “Oh, I know.”

Chapter Three
 Kelsea

I
shoved the varnished door in an effort to brute-force my
way through the tricksy lock.

Like my shoulder, my low growl of frustration bounced off

the solid wood. “Come on, you glorified piece of driftwood.
Let me in!” I hissed, twisting the key to a slightly different
angle. “I will chop you up for firewood. Doona test me, pally!”

I tried the door again. It finally gave with an unimpressed

grunt, letting me stumble inside Thistle Cottage.

“Yeah, yeah, take it up with someone who gives a fuck,” I

muttered and yanked out the key.

The scent of Earl Grey tea and vanilla greeted me like a

warm hug.

Stress-baking all afternoon had been the best decision I’d

made in weeks. Giving myself a mental pat on the back, I
swiped the battered cake tin from the cupboard above the
stove. Prying the lid off, I admired the fruits of my labour—
golden shortbread rounds filled the tin, crumbly and inviting.

I shoved a whole cookie into my gaping maw with an

enthusiastic munching.

Rich flavours exploded on my tongue; a fragrant hint of

bitter tea mixed with sweet vanilla and a buttery texture that
practically melted in my mouth.

“Thish ish jusht wha I eeded,” I groaned around the thick

mouthful before heading to the crystal decanter on the far
counter next.

I’d never have bought myself something so fancy, but the

ornately etched bottle had been a gift, several months ago, for
my 25th birthday, from one of my squaddie pals.

Though, Cynthia turned out to be as much of a back-stabber

as the rest of them in the end.

The sugary goodness soured on my tongue. I filled a lowball

glass with a generous helping of the amber liquid before,
popping in a mini grenade shaped ice cube and taking a sip.
The scotch burned as it slid down my throat, ceding to a
delicious warmth spreading through my middle.

Whiskey in hand, my next stop was the bedroom.

Exposed beams ran through the whole cottage, but they

seemed to hold more character in the generous master suite.
Dark wood contrasted the white panelling of the ceiling and
walls, continuing the rustic theme of the old building.
 Not that I’d had a hand in decorating the place. I’d inherited
the cottage from Granny when she passed away. The crazy old
bat had raised me ever since my parents died, when I was just
a toddler. I hardly remembered them, but I’d never wanted for
anything growing up with Granny. She was a fierce woman,
and a fiercer parent. I missed her every single day.

I dropped the glass to my bedside table, then slipped off my

leather jacket and opened the rickety oak cupboard hiding
behind the bedroom door. Hanging up my jacket, I ignored the
small specks of red dotting the leather. That was a future-
Kelsea problem.

For tonight, I was done.

My day had consisted of firing out my CV, bare enough to

put Old Mother Hubbard to shame, to any and all job adverts I
could find. I’d gone straight to the Navy after high school,
enlisting to ‘help protect kin and country’ as the TV ads had
said. Sure, I’d gained a wealth of experience in combat, but
why would the local greengrocers want the human equivalent
of a loaded shotgun serving their customers?

Spoiler alert—they did not.

I sighed, ramming my self-pity down into the deep, dark

abyss inside that held all the things I had no time to deal with.
Feelings were for the rich.

It wasn’t just local businesses that weren’t buying the crap I

was selling. Unsurprisingly, the mega corporations that the
smarter Fae courts had taken over were also more than happy
to turn me down. Them, I didn’t blame so much.
 Personally, I wouldn’t want to work with a highly trained,
potentially racist nutbag either.

The military had taught me many things, but one thing I’d
never learned was the deep prejudice against all fae. Not for a
lack of trying on their part.

All kinds of weird and wonderful fae had crawled into our
world over a decade ago. In typical human fashion, we’d
started a war with them that had ravaged the Earth. But it took
only a few years for them to put us in our place, tanks and
missile drones be damned.

I’d enlisted a year too late to join the real fighting. At the
time, I’d been desperate to see some action, to feel brave and
strong after the terror of living out my teenage years in a world
at war, even though most civilians never saw the bloodshed
except through a screen.

Thankfully.

It was over before it had started. We couldn’t compete with

magic. Not then, at least. We’d just put up a brave propaganda
front while holding desperate negotiations behind the scenes.

Last year, the human governments had finally signed the

Peace Accords, securing a truce.

Now, over a year of tenuous peace later, I could hardly

imagine a time without the fun quirks the fae brought to our
world. Everything from fae wine, strong enough to knock your
kilt off, and exotic new fruits and meats to express taxi
services carried by winged beings and elaborate fountains
controlled by water nymphs. Most still kept their magic hidden
from us, though, knowing full well the jealous reaction that
would inspire.

I shut my closet, realising I’d just been staring at the blood

splatters like a psycho. With an exaggerated huff, I pivoted on
my heel.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

Like a spider waiting for you to leave, a dark envelope

crouched on my bed, almost camouflaged amongst the
midnight sheets.

Silently, I drew my knife. Leaving the offending vellum

behind, I moved from my bedroom in a low stance, scanning
for signs of an intruder. I cleared each room in a systematic
sweep—living room, corridor, airing cupboard, bathroom,
Granny’s bedroom, kitchen—checking behind every door,
under the furniture, inside the closets.

Nobody jumped out to attack. Nothing was out of place.

Thistle Cottage was exactly how I’d left it. Except for one
unassuming piece of stationery.

Heart thudding dully in my chest, I returned to my bedroom.

I glared at the thick black cardstock, already knowing what

I’d find inside.

An ‘invitation’ from the fae.

But not one you could refuse.

I’d been Selected.

“Nessie’s tits!” I snarled.
Chapter Four
 Kelsea

M
y muscles burned with the need to move. To fight.

To do anything except stand and stare dumbly at the

end of my life as I knew it.

I gripped my knife tighter, feeling the textured handle dig

into my palm comfortingly. No part of me wanted to examine
why I was still clutching it when there was nobody around to
stab. Just a giant, sharp letter opener.

With my free hand, I reached for the black envelope with

trembling fingers.

Cool to the touch, like they’d kept it in the fridge. It had a

surprising weight to it, almost heavier than my blade. I
swallowed thickly, taking a long inhale.

Flipping it over, I read the neat golden scrawl, practically

glowing under the dim lighting. Kelsea McGregor.
 Dread curdled in my gut as I carefully peeled the envelope
open, pulling out the unnecessarily thick black cardstock.

A curling gold script read:

Ms McGregor,

You are cordially invited to Faerie.

I might as well have been invited to my own funeral.

Panic gripped my throat, closing off the airway while I

battled to remain calm. I scanned the damning text once more,
desperate for any hint of a prank, any hidden meaning between
the letters. Just like my airing cupboard, nothing leapt out at
me.

Now that I was paying attention, a faint buzz lingered in the

air.

Magic had been used here.

“Sloppy.” Apparently, mere weeks out of the military were

enough to dissolve years of dedicated training. If the fae
who’d left me the gift had been out to hurt me, I’d be dead by
now.

I resisted the urge to crumple the card into a ball. Now

wasn’t the time to lose my head.

Dropping the lethal invite onto the bed, I hauled a battered

pack out from underneath. I smoothed through my room in a
flurry of efficiency; packing several sets of underwear, thermal
leggings, merino wool base layers, technical jumpers, walking
trousers and hiking socks.
 Ditching my jeans, I slid on camo trousers and a jacket,
grabbing my comfiest combat boots. Next, I stuffed my
camping equipment into my bag, double-checking it still had
water purifying tablets, my environmentally friendly wash kit,
two lighters plus a back-up striker and flint.

Hauling my pack into the kitchen, I grabbed all the non-

perishable food I could carry and then filled up several water
bottles. I wracked my brain for any other essentials I’d need.
Mentally berating myself, I swiped the final shortbread
cookies I’d baked and dumped them into a food bag.

My heart pounded harder with every minute I lingered. I

could practically feel the claws of danger sinking into my
back.

I strode through the hallway, yanking open the small

cupboard by the evil front door. Keying in the code, I unlocked
the gun safe and pulled out my pistol, holstering it at my hip,
and slung the hunting rifle over my shoulder, before storing a
few boxes of ammo in a waterproof side pouch on my pack.

I eyed my grandfather’s old double-barrelled shotgun, with

its smooth wooden stock and ornate detailing. The added
firepower was appealing, but I needed to be swift and subtle. If
a fae was close enough for me to hit with that thing, their
claws would already be deep in my flesh before I could blow
their head off. Those fuckers were speedy.

Locking the safe, I gave my home, and the last remnant of

my grandparents, one final visual sweep. The fireplace sat
empty in the living room, taunting me with the promise of
warmth I could no longer indulge in.

It was going to be a long, chilly night.

Switching the lights off, I murmured a quiet goodbye,

knowing Granny would understand why I had to abandon her
most prized possession; the cosy cottage she’d lived and loved
in her whole life.

Ignoring the ache in my chest, I shouldered my heavy pack

and opened the door. As if welcoming my exit, that traitor
swung wide without so much as a creak. With an amused huff,
I stepped into the darkness, leaving behind the only true home
I’d ever known.

Thistle Cottage, with its quirky trinkets, lace doilies and

homely comforts, might hold sentimental value, but a secret
part of me wasn’t as devastated to be leaving behind my life in
Inverness as I should have been. Nothing but emptiness and
disappointment had greeted me since I moved back.

Not that it mattered anymore.

I was nothing but a ghost now.

I strode down the cobblestone path, right past the battered

Mini Cooper parked in the driveway. Even in British Racing
Green, my little car would stick out like a sore thumb where I
was headed. No, I needed to get off the grid, and fast. To
disappear into the mists of the Scottish Highlands like I never
existed at all.

I’d love to see which fae they’d send after me there.

 My lips twitched despite my churning emotions and the
sharp sense of danger raking along my spine.

I hoped the poor bastard liked the cold.

Chapter Five
 Rattle

I
fucking hated the cold.

An insidious chill sliced right through my scales,

burrowing its way deep into my flesh despite the fur-lined
cloak wrapped tight around my shoulders. I scowled at the
barren hills of coarse scrubland, barely lit by the emerging
sun. Dewy mists filled the valley below, mocking me with its
impenetrable grey blanket.

How in the Sacred Sands was I meant to track down a rogue

human through this? Chasing them through their urban jungles
of concrete and glass monstrosities was difficult enough. If I
had to slither up another skyscraper’s stairs, someone was
getting their face bitten off. And I wouldn’t be holding back a
single drop of venom.

Fayre, my commander, shot me a sympathetic look as if she

could read my grim thoughts. Ice-white eyes gleamed brighter
than the human realm’s moon, peeking down at us from inky
heights. “I’m sorry, old friend… I know this is not exactly
ideal territory for a lamia.”
 I met her stare head-on with a vicious snarl. “I live to serve
the Council.”

A wry smile tugged at her pouty lips. “Oh, Rattle, don’t we

all?”

A powerful gust whipped her pale pink hair around her,

ruffling the matching feathers of her large wings, tucked
tightly against her back in an imitation of my cloak. With her
willowy frame and hawkish features, she was graceful yet
striking. Objectively, Fayre was stunning. Even by harpy
standards. Yet, despite having worked closely together for
years, I’d never felt any hint of desire between us.

Like most of my caste, I was constantly on the hunt for the

one whose blood sung to mine—my heartmate.

Things would have been much simpler if she was, but the
Commander of the Royal Hunters was not my fated mate. I’d
scented her blood more than enough times to know.

I hissed in a grudging acknowledgement of her blasphemy,

trying to ignore the bitter truth that stung us both.

“The Shua’than you’re after is a tricky female indeed. Ex-

military and in her prime, she will be difficult to catch on her
home terrain like this,” Fayre commented, watching my face
for any hint of doubt. “The tracker spell for this human was
one of the last to be made, so it’s not as strong as I’d like, but
regardless, you must not fail.”

“I’m well aware.” I nodded. “I will not let the Almighty

Council down again.” My fists clenched at my sides, claws
digging into my palms as I fought not to quake my tail in
irritation, maintaining as much composure as a monster like
me could.

She was right, though. I couldn’t afford to fail. Not again.

I’d worked too hard to let another human escape me. The
Council didn’t take too kindly to the weak or traitorous, and I
was neither.

Liar.

I shoved back the memory of pleading hazel eyes, filling

with tears. She’d been so young. Barely old enough to have
finished education. Not to mention she was already engaged to
be mated. We weren’t meant to take the ones already in
relationships. Matings were sacred, even human ones. Not that
anything could stop the Council once they’d marked their
prey.

The insipid ink etched into my chest burned, as if the hunter

brand—a black crown and dagger design—was unhappy at
even the memory of my recent mistake. My betrayal.

My fangs threatened to snap forwards with the need to sink

into enemy flesh, but this wasn’t a foe I could battle.

I would not be letting another Shua’than escape me.

This latest inconvenient assignment was an unsubtle

reminder that the Council gave with one hand and ripped away
with the other. My life as a Royal Hunter was far better than it
would have been if I’d never been conscripted from the
capital’s slums, but it wasn’t without its own dangers.
 If I died out in the cold, alone in the human realm, nobody
would come looking for my battered, broken body. Sure, Fayre
might want to, but the Council would snap their bony fingers
and she’d come to heel. Like me, she didn’t have a choice.

At least if I was in active service to those tyrants, my

younger brother was safe from the same fate. A faint warmth
spread in my chest, helping to push back some of the
Highland’s chill. Over the years, I’d sent him what I could of
my meagre earnings and he’d been able to get an education.
Just this year, he left our dying world to integrate with this
one, full of vitality and surprises. I longed to join him.

One day.

Even my own promises felt like lies. I fought the urge to bite
down on the forked tip of my tongue in retaliation of my own
weakness.

“You have four days until The Great Hunt begins. You must
retrieve the Shua’than before then. I will jump to your location
when the sun rises on the third day.” Fayre gripped my
shoulder roughly, sharp claws digging through the thick cloak.
I didn’t even blink as she drew blood. “Don’t make me punish
you again.” Her rough threat hid the plea beneath as shadows
gathered in her icy eyes.

I knew her well enough to spot the guilt in the tightness

bracketing her mouth, the tension in her jaw.

As my Commander, the Council had decreed that she be the

one to issue my punishment after my last failure. A reminder
to her as much as me. She’d spent hours beating me bloody.
Breaking bones. Plucking scales. Silent horror rode her with
every drop of my lifeblood spilled. Even now, she flinched at
the sight of the scarring she’d left on my body.

But what were a few more to add to the collection? Violence

had etched into my flesh long before I’d even met her. It had
burrowed down to my tainted soul and twisted around my
heart until it became a vital part of me.

“I won’t,” I vowed, determination solidifying in my gut.

If not for myself, I would do it for my friend. She’d already

suffered enough under the Council. She didn’t need any more
darkness to carry.

“Go.” She jerked her chin towards the hills to the north.
“Your quarry is already here. I can feel it.”

I gritted my teeth, meeting her silver eyes for a heavy

moment.

Acknowledging the enduring weight of our shared pain with

the slightest dip of my head, I set forth after my prey. Coarse
grass brushed my tail, leaving beads of moisture along my
scales as I descended into the pre-dawn mists.

If the sun goddess was kind, I’d snatch the poor human and
be back in Faerie before daybreak, then bask in the light as I
delivered a docile Shua’than over to their fate.

I didn’t want to think about the alternative, but something in

my gut told me that this wasn’t going to be anywhere near that
easy.
 Instinct drove me onwards, urging me to seek out my prey. I
had to find her.

No matter what.
Chapter Six
 Kelsea

S
hingle crunched underfoot as I trudged along the
exposed bank. The picturesque loch was small compared
to some I’d already visited since leaving Thistle Cottage
behind in the dead of night almost two days ago, but it was
easily one of my favourites. Not only was it still enough to
mirror the roiling clouds above, but it was shaped like a
dagger, as if some great water giant had left it lying between
the grassy hills and forgotten all about it.

Thankfully, water giants weren’t real. At least, they weren’t

a caste of fae I’d ever heard of and I’d had countless lectures
studying them, focussing on their many weird and wonderful
strengths and weaknesses.

Ice giants were a known type though, and from what I’d seen
so far, the formidable brutes weren’t the friendliest old chaps.
There were also water nymphs and water dragons. The former
had integrated seamlessly with human society and were
typically common in the cities, especially coastal or river-side
ones like my home. The latter I’d been lucky enough to never
encounter.

I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with crisp morning

air and the woodsy scent of heather. Evergreen scrub coated
the surrounding hills, covered in dew from the lingering mist.
By mid-afternoon, the sun would burn through it, but in the
early predawn, it filled Ayr Valley like broth in a bowl.

My breathing strained as I pushed onwards, seeking higher

ground. I’d already eaten a hare from the trap I’d laid the day
before, roasting it over a low fire hidden by a series of lichen-
covered boulders. I’d even treated myself to a coffee and one
of my few remaining Earl Grey shortbread rounds for the
morale boost.

Since I’d fled my home and the cursed invitation left within,
roughly thirty-five hours ago, I’d not spotted any signs of a
pursuer. That didn’t mean the fae weren’t already after me,
though. Everybody knew the Selected were tracked down and
taken. It didn’t matter who you were or what you might be
capable of. A promising corporal from my unit in the Navy
had been taken several years back, and he’d seen two tours in
the Great War. He was a verified badass. A fae-killing
machine. Yet one day, he just poofed out of existence, leaving
behind grieving squad mates who found the mysterious
invitation amongst his belongings.

Why the fae had agreed to issue formal invites before

kidnapping us was beyond me. I supposed the human
governments wanted to a seem like they’d won a concession in
the Peace Accord negotiations, given the Selection of a certain
number of humans was a mysterious term the fae would not
budge on. At least this gave us a chance to try and evade our
fates, or to say goodbye to loved ones. The fae Council
probably got a sick thrill out of making us scurry about in a
panic, anyway.

I had no doubt this was a futile attempt to cling to an illusion

of freedom. A smart person would probably just go without a
fuss, try to curry favour with their fae overlords and adapt to
whatever heinous fate awaited them, but as my Granny always
said, ‘It’s a good day to go fuck shit up.’

A faint crackle slashed through the lull.

I crouched. A sound reached me again, like fabric sliding

across a carpet. I frowned, scanning the rocky moors.

I darted behind the nearest rocky outcrop and peered

carefully around the edge.

I’d been found.

An enormous fae slithered through the grass at the base of

the valley. More beast than man, he had a snake-like lower
body and a humanoid upper half. They’d sent a bloody lamia.

A heavy cloak draped over his shoulders, but it did nothing

to hide their breadth. Scales hugged his thick tail, ranging the
full spectrum of coffee colours, from a milky beige to a potent
brew forming a diamond pattern. He was enormous. Probably
double my size, without the long serpentine tail that seemed to
extend for metres along the ground behind him.

I shuddered at the sight. Of all the beings they could send, a

lamia was not high on my wish list. I didn’t have an issue with
snakes per se, but would I choose to get choked out by their
slimy coils?

Hard pass.

His frame shuddered as he scowled down at whatever was

cupped in his clawed hand.

The fae bastard was shivering. I couldn’t help but smirk.

The Highlands could be one vicious bitch.

And I was about to show him just how cruel they could be.

“Come on, you cursed thing,” the lamia hissed, shaking the
strange white gemstone in his hand. It swirled with colour like
a fire opal but reflected light like a cut diamond. “I will shatter
you into so many insignificant pieces that even your creator
would not recognise you.”

I rolled my lips inwards, fighting back the unexpected

chuckle tickling the back of my throat. The crazy bastard was
threating a stone.

I’d led him around the Highlands for the entire day, watching
him from a distance while I’d stayed at least half a mile ahead,
peering at him down ravines, disappearing through valleys and
skirting around different lochs and rivers. Whatever magic
object he held, it seemed to track me, but not with a sufficient
accuracy. Most of the time, I’d seen him flick his snake-like
tongue out, scenting me on the air and trying to follow that,
despite the ever-changing breeze in the windy Highlands.

A few times now I’d had to double back to find him, leaving
obvious scuff marks in the terrain for him to follow.

The silly snake lost my trail again, though.

I crept around the craggy base of a steep hill, leaving him

behind. A small smile tugged at my lips as I leaned down,
quickly pulling one of my spare knives to carve a message into
the flat face of a boulder right in his path. Even he couldn’t
miss this one.

Anticipation purred through me as I crouched behind a large

cluster, taking a moment to slow my breathing as I waited for
my target to catch up. He finally moved into view, scales
scraping over the loose shingle edging the stream that cut
through the valley. His sharply angled jaw clenched as he
shook the poor, abused gemstone once more.

It was the closest I’d allowed him to come yet. I was playing
with fire, but I needed to keep him in sight so I could learn and
assess. Plus, roaming the Highlands alone wasn’t nearly as
much fun as toying with the enemy.

I threw a loose chip of dark moine. The shingle clattered

against a cracked boulder resting at the water’s edge, only
metres from the scowling fae.
 His gaze snapped to the stone, serpentine features darkening
as he glared at the rock like it had slapped his mother. That
fierce stare lifted, scanning the shallow valley until he snagged
on the gift I’d left for him.

I watched with quiet, even breaths, hands pressing into the

rough stone, chilling my palms.

The snake slithered over to my offering.

He bared his fangs, dripping liquid, as he hissed. The sound

rolled through the valley in a threatening wave. His tail lashed
the air beside him with the crack of a whip. “Really,
Shua’than?” he called out, voice raspy. His head swivelled as
he assessed the landscape. “You’re resorting to terrible puns
now?”

I clamped down on the inside of my cheeks to hold back the

laughter bubbling up my throat. Staying perfectly still, I
trusted my camouflage and hiding spot to do their job.

I’d written ‘Don’t have a hissssy fit’.

Seems he hadn’t listened to my sage advice.

His frustration had mounted with every passing hour I’d

evaded him. He might have magic, but I was born in these
lands, and I knew exactly how to disappear amongst its vast
beauty. Given his heightened sense of smell, I had no doubt he
could scent I was nearby, though the fierce gusts helped to
diffuse a trail and I’d made sure to stay downwind.

I’d tried to study as much about him as I could. His

strategies, his weapons, his powers. But mostly, his
weaknesses. So far, the grouchy bastard had surprisingly few.

He’d tried to set a few traps for me, magical and mundane,
but since I’d watched him set them, it was laughably easy to
avoid them.

His pace dropped considerably uphill, like his serpent body

wasn’t made for traversing the bumpy inclines. It was a boon
for me, since I could only jog for so long with the weight of
my pack before I, too, needed rest.

Dusk was already creeping in, painting the sky in a stunning

mix of pink and orange, behind the grey clouds rolling in from
the north. It wouldn’t be long until darkness bathed us, and as
fun as it was to tease my supposed hunter, our game of cat-
and-mouse had deadly consequences.

I needed to lose my tracker for good, and I knew just how to

beat him at his own game.

The sky roiled with thick cloud, and fat drops smacked into
my face as the heavens opened.

With a grin, I stepped out from behind the cairn.

“Are you a lost little lamb?” I called out, waving

enthusiastically down to the lamia and flashing him a cheery
grin. “Why do you tourists always forget to bring a map?”
Chapter Seven
 Kelsea

A
dark glower scrunched the lamia’s harsh features as he
started up the hill towards me. “Actually, I’ve found
exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

His voice rolled over me, oddly decadent, with a low rasp
that made me think of the morning after an unforgettable
night. Of stubble against skin and getting tangled in silk
sheets. For a moment, his words struck with an odd resonance,
like the inkling of something just out of reach.

Giving myself a mental punch in the tit for getting distracted,

I turned and fled through the patchy heather, leading my prey
uphill.

A hiss slithered after me as the gullible lamia sped up.

My feet pounded the damp earth as I ran, the added weight

of my loaded pack making my steps heavy. I breathed evenly,
trying to control the exertion despite the burn starting up in my
thighs already.

“Stop, human!” A harsh rasp echoed through the valley. “I

promise you can’t escape me. Make this easier for us both and
get your skinny arse back here.”

“Skinny!?” I snorted, keeping stride. That ignorant prick. I

worked out every fucking day to maintain a strong, toned
body. I called over my shoulder as I ran, “I’ll show you how
skinny I am when my huge bicep is choking you out!”

A huffing laugh was his only response.

Sliding to a stop, I whirled to face the lamia slithering uphill

as quick as his coils could push him.

Seeing him up close was a whole different experience to the

long-distance glimpses.

He looked like a spot of sunshine, so out of place amongst

the cold Highlands. Tanned skin was accented by bronze
scales, highlighting his sharp cheekbones, edging his neck and
running beneath his dark cloak before morphing into his long
serpentine lower half. His tail was twice my width, tapering to
a thicker section at the end. Snake eyes, a rich golden shade
like Drambuie, glowed in the dusk, even with an onyx slash
through the centre. A handful of short horns protruded in two
elegant curves, replacing eyebrows.

Note to self; do not headbutt the guy.

Three ragged scars slashed through one side, like he’d been
clawed by a wild animal. It started above the strange horns,
tearing down over his right eye to the edge of his angular
cheekbone.

His square jaw sat wider than average, his nose slightly
flatter, giving his diamond-shaped face more of a serpentine
cast. He looked lethal, like a predator on the hunt.

I gritted my teeth. He was. And, apparently, I was his prey.

My lips twitched at the thought. The delusional bastard was

in for a world of hurt.

He slowed as I allowed the distance between us to shrink,

standing my ground just beyond a flinty cairn.

“Come with me, Shua’than. Your new life in Faerie awaits,”

he said, voice so rough it was strangely hypnotic, despite what
I suspected was a forced detachment to his tone.

I arched a brow. “Thanks, laddie, but I sure ain’t buying

what yer sellin’.”

The tip of his tail snapped up beside his shoulder, the strange
thick end catching my eye.

“You can’t escape your fate.” His jaw feathered, bright gaze
boring a hole through me like he could see down to my
tarnished soul. “You’re a pretty thing. I’m sure you’ll be
chosen by a royal.”

“Oh gee, getting kidnapped for a royal overlord? I’m just

mainlining hope-ium.” I slapped my inner elbow repeatedly to
really nail my point.
 You never knew which fae had been in our world long
enough to understand sarcasm or not.

A hiss slithered from his lips, a forked tongue darting out.

“Gah, be less snake-y!” I yelled, swiping up a rock and

throwing it at his inhuman face.

His hand snapped up, catching the stone with ease. He eyed
the little projectile with a huff. The rock fractured in his grip
with a grating crack, dark flecks raining to the thick heather by
his lower body.

The strength needed to crush solid moine like it was buttery

shortbread had a frisson of unease skating along my spine. But
I already knew a lamia would be stronger than me physically. I
had to play to my own strengths to win.

“Um, was that meant to be scary or something?” A mocking

smirk graced my lips. “Delicate thing like you would crumble
under the weight of a tattie scone.”

The snake glowered, horned brows slamming dangerously

low as his indifference cracked quicker than the stone in pieces
beside his tail. “I am trying to better your miserable human
life. Now, come with me. Before I make you.”

“Ooh, someone’s a grumpy snake today,” I teased, flashing

him a shit-eating grin. “What? Doona like the cold, Sunshine?
Or is it the constant rain, hmm?”

The tip of his tail rattled ominously, the sound reaching into
my brain to stab at my most primal instincts. They screamed at
me to run from the obvious danger, but I steeled my nerves,
breathing through the familiar rush of adrenaline.

“That’s so cute. You have your own wee maraca,” I drawled,

fighting to hold still and batter my fear into submission.
“Lemme guess, your nads click together like castanets too?”

Sunshine bared his wicked fangs and slithered closer. His

muscular tail powered him forward in a mesmerising
undulation. Waves of lethal threat radiated from him, even
with the faint rain gathering on his thick eyelashes like
crystals, softening the almost handsome severity of his
inhuman features.

He snorted. “You humans and your lack of survival instincts.

This, a warning rattle, like my namesake.” Shaking it again in
a terrifying emphasis, he moved closer, looming over a foot
taller than me despite the steep incline. “It means you’d better
do as I say, before things get too much for a little mortal like
you to handle.”

My heart rate double-timed as the sense of danger spiked.

My thighs bunched with the need to flee, but I locked my
muscles, standing my ground as I let the powerful fae close in
on me.

Just a little more.

“Rattle, is it?” My mouth savoured his name on my tongue

like the first burning sip of an aged scotch. I pressed a hand to
my chest in false sympathy. “Oh sweetie, who told you that
you were intimidating? That was really mean of them to give
you false confidence like that.”
 “Nothing false about it.” He bared his fangs in a mockery of
a smile. “You think you’re the first Shua’than to resist the call
of fate? I’m the one they send for the stubborn brats throwing
temper tantrums.”

Eyes flaring with dangerous intent, he lunged with another

hiss, enormous fangs descending from the roof of his gaping
maw. I had a millisecond to process that he had even bigger
fangs, before I dived to one side, feeling his claws graze my
shoulder as they sliced through my coat.

Exactly as planned, momentum carried him forwards.

Right into my trap.

Chapter Eight
 Kelsea

T
he earth swallowed the lamia’s bronzed form whole. A
wet splash accented the meaty thud of his body hitting
the ground. A low groan vibrated the air.

“Ah, sweet music to my ears.” I chuckled, shifting my pack

higher and tightening the straps that had bounced too loose.

The thrill of victory coursed through me as I stepped up to

the edge of the miniature ravine I’d found in the wee hours of
the morning and disguised with fluffy shrubs. With its
dramatic rock sides and a clear stream, it made a better
postcard than prison. Lady Luck had been on my side today,
because it also looked impossible to climb out of.

Walls of crumbling earth and stone, slick from the recent

heavy rain, hemmed in the oval-shaped pit. The slender river
had carved out a single inlet and outlet, both too narrow for
even a runway model to wriggle through, let alone the stacked
fae.
 Despite my knowledge of the terrain and the clear
disadvantage the lamia had here, the determined bastard had
been steadily catching up to me, and I was not about to fall
into his beastly clutches.

The hissing fae pushed himself up, mud smearing along his
diamond-shaped face and bronzed scales. Wicked fangs
protruded from beneath his upper lip, resting over his lower lip
almost to his chin. His cloak had fallen in the tumble,
revealing a wealth of muscular strength.

Without my permission, my eyes feasted on the power

cording his torso. Hard lines carved his frame, showing the
definition in his pectorals and six-pack abs.

But what really stood out was the map of violence etched
into his flesh.

Near-invisible lines crisscrossed every inch of skin. Some

were long and jagged, from claws like the set over his eye,
others were short and sharp, like they’d been created by
blades. I even spotted a few circular marks that I’d bet my last
Earl Grey shortbread were closed gunshot wounds.

The evidence of how much damage he could take and live

terrified me more than any display of wicked claws or baring
of dripping fangs.

Monsters weren’t born. They were forged in the fires of hell.

Pain and rage could hone a soldier’s cruelty like nothing else.
I’d seen it firsthand. Too many soldiers had returned from the
Great War, battered and grieving, only to let their hate for
faekind consume them. Some of the fae extremist bodies I’d
found left behind after ‘questioning’ still gave me nightmares.

Bright eyes burned into me, yanking me back to the present

with the promise of bloody retribution. Fear made me shiver,
but I brushed it aside in favour of cold, hard logic. He wasn’t
the first threatening fae I’d dealt with. Sure, the crown and
dagger tattoo emblazoned on his sculpted chest gave me
pause, but even their elite soldiers, the Royal Hunters, could
bleed like the rest of us mortals. His scars were proof of that.

“Silly human, you cannot escape me,” he said, having the

audacity to hold my gaze captive when he was the one
trapped. “I can track you to wherever you scurry off to next.”

I snorted. “Aye, but how will you get out of this pit?”

The icy part of me was tempted to pull my rifle and end him.
Right here, right now.

The voice of my old lieutenant rang in my ears, screaming at

me to pull the trigger on the fairy fucker.

It would be the smart thing to do.

My stomach churned at the thought. At the clash of hardened

logic and softening morality.

Golden eyes bored into me, unblinking, like he saw down to

my rotten soul and refused to balk in the face of death.

The lamia notched his pointed chin, as if he could read my

thoughts. “Do it.”
 I sucked in a mere sip of air. Tension stretched between us
like a rubber band, just waiting to snap.

I can’t.

I knew what it was like to be a soldier. To follow orders. He

might be from another world, but he was still just a pawn. A
piece on the chessboard, being moved around by the real
players.

He spread his arms wide, thick muscle straining beneath

scarred skin. “Go on, Killer. Now’s your chance.” His taunting
smirk dared me to pull my weapon. “I won’t stop until I have
you.”

His dark promise settled heavy in my gut with a sense of

foreboding. My hands shook as I turned away, leaving his fate
up to the unforgiving Highlands. Mother Nature was a hell of
a lot smarter than I was.

“So you’ll leave me to die of starvation, agonisingly slow

instead?” His raspy voice slithered out after me before an
unhinged chuckle sounded. “How delightfully vicious.”

I paused, indecision warring inside me. If I was going to

leave him to die down there, I might as well shoot the poor
bugger. It would be kinder.

“What about your fucking magic?” I snarled, whirling back

to the edge of the trap.

He glared up at me from deep within the earth, defiance

etched into every harsh line of his scarred face. “Even magic
has limitations. If I could get out, would I still be down here
frolicking in the muck? Or would I already have my claws
wrapped around your pretty little neck?”

I ignored the girly part of me that uselessly latched onto the

fact that he’d referred to me as pretty twice now.

Mocking compliments aside, the snake had a point.

Only I would be conned into providing for my would-be

kidnapper. Stupid bleeding heart.

“Fine, Rattle.” I sneered his name and held up a single

finger. “You get one meal, so you’d better make it last until
your people come pull you out. What do you even eat? My
soul isn’t on the menu.”

“I’m not a demon from your silly little stories.”

“Sassy snakes get starvation.”

His lips twitched. “Oh, Killer, you have no idea what you’ve
gotten yourself into. I’m going to eat you alive.”

He hissed lightly, almost like a faint laugh, displaying his

impossibly long, glinting fangs.

Already, I’d heard enough different hisses out of him; they

could be a language all on their own. I filed that information
away for later use. Know thy enemy and all that.

With an eye-roll of acquiescence, he continued, “But I’m not

a fussy eater, if that’s what you’re asking. In fact, I bet your
flesh tastes delightful.” His hungry gaze dropped between my
thighs, forked tongue flickering out to taste the air.
 I had the strangest urge to press my legs together to ease the
building ache. I’d deny it to my dying breath if asked, but
wetness soaked my panties at his implied meaning.

Mentally thrashing myself, I forced my lips into an arrogant

smirk. “Well, you’re in luck, pally.” I dropped my pack,
quickly grabbing out the spare squirrel I’d trapped this
morning, but hadn’t yet prepared. “I’ll throw a stray dog a
bone.”

I’d been avoiding using my hunting rifle because the sound

of a shot going off would echo through the valleys, making it
even easier for him to home in on me before I was ready. Now,
with him trapped, I could hunt properly and maybe bag myself
a better meal for dinner than one measly squirrel, anyway.

I chucked him my fluffy prize, scowling as his hand snapped

up to catch it with ease, revealing even more battle scars
across the underside of his arm.

He held up the grey squirrel with a quirk of one horned

brow, tugging at the ragged lines running through it. “I didn’t
think humans ate raw meat.”

I gave in to the small chuckle tickling my throat at his wry

tone. “Think of it like Scottish sashimi.”

His flat look had me laughing harder. I might be playing a

dangerous game, but at least I was winning.

I shouldered my pack, shifting forwards to accommodate the

familiar weight at my back. “How long until they come for
you?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
 He shrugged. “They might not come at all.”

The hardened lamia seemed more put out than concerned by

his predicament. It set me on edge. The normal response to
being trapped in a pit by your enemy, exposed to the harsh
elements with hardly a tiny snack and a wet cloak, would be
panic, fear or rage.

What kind of life was he used to where this was a minor

inconvenience? My eyes snagged on the network of brutality
slashing through his skin.

Clearly, not a kind one.

Stuffing down the unsettled feeling in my gut, I bared my

teeth in a rough approximation of a smile. “Better make it last,
then.”
Chapter Nine
 Rattle

T
hat little vixen.

I wound around the edge of the pit, cursing the woman

responsible for my temporary imprisonment. Ignoring the icy
stream flowing over my scales, I catalogued my miserable
surroundings, swallowing down an infuriated hiss.

If I wasn’t lowborn, I’d be able to conjure something useful

to help me scale the precarious walls of mud and smooth, wet
rock. As it was, any magic I possessed had to be given to me,
usually in the form of charms and enchanted trinkets, like the
near-useless tracker gem. My only real power dripped from
my fangs.

I eyed the slick walls, slippery with the falling rain.

Even I didn’t think I’d be able to bite my way out of this

mess.

The tricksy Shua’than had clearly used a natural crevice in

the Earth rather than doing any sort of digging. She’d
distracted me with the sight of such tempting prey, with the
faint hint of sweetness that I could have sworn was arousal. In
my idiocy, I’d let her unique beauty and my mounting
frustration lure me in like some amateur.

I needed to get out of here. It was never personal, capturing

Shua’than and delivering them to their fate, even when most of
them inevitably ran after receiving the pointless invite. But
this time, the wily human had gotten under my scales. I was
going to enjoy wrapping her up in my coils. Threading my
claws through her rich hair, the alluring colour of dark
amethysts. Trapping my pretty prey until she couldn’t move,
completely at my mercy.

Her big brown eyes would flare wide in surprise as she’d

realise she was caught in my trap. Her lush pink lips parting on
a breathy gasp. Those sculpted black brows would then lower
in a scowl as she’d try to fight her way out of my grasp. I
already knew how feisty she was; a formidable warrior
amongst her own kind. Bristling with weapons and barely
leashed rage, she’d been leading me through the wilderness for
the entire day. And I’d let her. Following the scant flashes of
her vibrant mane, half-hidden under a drab hat. Catching the
teasing hint of her sweetness on the wind.

Several times, I’d been tempted to charge after her, but in the
bitter cold, my body had become infuriatingly sluggish,
especially since I was still drained from all the healing I’d
needed after my last punishment.

To hunt and capture my prey, I’d have to be just as cunning

as the roguish warrior who’d left me to rot in this miserable
hole. She was just another person to underestimate me, and I
was going to take immense joy in showing her the error of her
ways.

I eyed the small creature in my hand, noting its broken neck.

With a huff, I stuffed it into my mouth, crunching through
chilled flesh and bone. I ignored the off-putting sensation of
wet fur sliding down my throat as I swallowed. It wasn’t the
worst thing I’d been forced to eat after all.

I wondered what the Shua’than would think of the things I’d

done to survive. Would she be horrified? Or would she give
me one of those provoking smirks that said, ‘is that all?’

Flexing my fingers, I set my sharp claws high into the thick

mud wall. Cold bit into my fingertips as I sunk them deep into
the earth. My lower body was three times the length of my
torso. It was a significant weight to carry in my hands and
arms alone. Especially given that my tail wasn’t particularly
useful for climbing, either. I wasn’t one of those uptight jungle
lamias.

But I’d been in worse positions than this. At least the vixen
hadn’t shot me up with bullets first. The crazy human had
actually fed me. Her enemy. Who did that? For many castes,
feeding someone was a sign of affection. Especially something
you’d killed yourself.

I shook my head, ignoring the strange sense of warmth

lighting my chest. Clearly, she hadn’t meant it that way.

With a deep breath, I pulled, raising up onto the lower

section of my tail to support my weight as I began the arduous
climb.

Partway up, my fingers cramped, spasming under the weight.

My rattle grazed the floor as I fought to cling on, sweat
dripping from my horns to mingle with the rain slicking my
skin.

“Come on. Fucking climb.” I hissed, hating the weakness

lingering in my limbs.

Fayre had been forced to break every one of my fingers. The

ghost of pain haunted the delicate bones, as if the strain was
testing for any fissures to widen.

I gritted my fangs, wrenching one hand from the mud to

slam my claws in deep, as high as I could reach. The packed
soil gave slightly beneath my weight. I stilled, tension running
through my body as I waited for the earth to compact either
enough to hold me or collapse and send me tumbling.

After a strained beat of nothing, I shifted my bulk. With a

grunt, I fell into a rhythm, straining for freedom—hand over
hand, pause for slipping, pull up, breathe and repeat.

After almost half an hour, I reached a section of stone, my

claws scraping loudly against the jagged surface. I paused,
taking a few deep breaths as I focussed on burrowing my
fingers into a crevice, twisting my hand to lock it into place.
The change in texture was a welcome relief from the unstable
mud, even as the rough stone cut into the fleshy pads of my
fingertips. I locked away the pain, separating the physical
sensations through stubborn will.
 My arms shook as my whole body draped down the sheer
wall, the entirety of my weight in my hands.

I curved my tail over a small jutting section of rock, almost

wheezing in relief as some of the pressure in my screaming
upper body eased. If I stopped, it would be that much harder to
start again. So I shoved aside the allure of a break, breathed
deep and controlled, and focused on my goal, not the aching in
my shoulders and back, or the sharp cramping of my fingers
and forearms.

An age later, I finally reached the top. With one final heave,
I rolled my body over the crumbling lip, panting on the prickly
grass as I watched the pale stars. They winked and twinkled,
laughing at me from above. Night had fallen while I’d
climbed, mocking the time it had taken me to claw free.

I bared my fangs, feeling my gums ache with the need to bite

into my enemies.

Or a certain delectable Shua’than.

She was going to regret the mercy she’d shown me.

I was done playing games. I only had two more days to bring
her in.

I couldn’t afford to fail.

Not again.
Chapter Ten
 Kelsea

R
ain drizzled overhead, dripping off my nose and sticking
the loose strands of my hair to my face. I pulled my
hood up higher, trying in vain to stay as dry as possible.

After trapping my pursuer yesterday evening, I’d had just

enough daylight left to shoot a few pheasants before putting a
healthy distance between myself and the ravine prison. I’d
treated myself to a proper dinner, cooking a veritable feast of
game birds over an open flame. There was even enough left
over for a hearty breakfast this morning, too.

I didn’t want to examine too closely why I’d been so

determined to shoot an extra two birds that I’d roasted and
wrapped up neatly. They seemed to weigh my large backpack
more than the small birds should. But it was always good to
stock up on additional rations. What if I wasn’t able to catch
anything today or tomorrow?

Two is one and one is none, as my lieutenant always said.

 I’d spent a carefree night set up with a cosy fire and basher
shelter, strung up nestled within a copse of rowans.

As the sun had crested the rolling hills, I’d finally given in to
the temptation to check on my captive. I’d cursed myself the
entire way back to the familiar valley I’d led him through.
Whether it was dumb curiosity, or the even dumber niggle of
guilt, I hadn’t stopped thinking about the fierce male I’d left
trapped in the earth.

He was the enemy, and yet I couldn’t help but wonder what
he was up to. If he was hiding a phone in his cloak, he
wouldn’t get signal this far into the Highlands and even a sat
phone was unreliable in a deep ravine this off-grid. Had he
used magic to contact his people to save him?

Or was he still in the pit? Shivering from the cold and

starting to starve? Fae had much higher metabolisms, meaning
they needed to eat far more than humans. His body would be
burning through its fuel in an effort to keep warm, and I hadn’t
seen him eat yesterday as he’d hunted me through the rugged
terrain.

A small smirk twitched my lips. I was about to taunt one

pissed-off snake. Serves him right for thinking he could kidnap
me in my own backyard.

With a deep, fortifying breath, I leaned over the ravine’s lip.

To find it completely empty.

“Nessie’s tits!” I hissed before cringing at the sound. Way to

keep the element of surprise.
 My gaze leapt back up to the soaked grasslands surrounding
me.

No flash of bronze stood out amongst the rolling hills to

catch the soft dawn light.

I peered back down into the pit, double-checking for sneaky

fae hiding in the mud, but it was devoid of all life. Not even
the carcass of a squirrel waited in the tomb of earth.

Deep gouges raked through the soil on the far side, broken
up by unnatural scratches in the dark layers of rock.

The walls were several stories high.

And the bastard had climbed free.

I skirted the pit, rain punishing my exposed face for the burst
of speed. A wide section of grass was flattened in an
undulating wave leading away from the trap. I should have
spotted the disturbance immediately, but thoughts of seeing the
intriguing lamia again had distracted me.

A mistake that could have cost me my freedom.

I gritted my teeth, shoving the anxiety aside as I followed the

lamia’s tracks, jogging after my quarry. The rain had softened
the edges of his claw marks through the mud, meaning he’d
probably been free for hours already since it had sprinkled on
and off all night.

Instinct urged me on, as if danger chased behind me.

I needed to get eyes on the hunter before he could catch me

unaware. I’d spent years preparing to battle the fae, but I’d
never been deluded enough to think I could take any of them
on easily, even armed.

After almost half an hour of running, the faint sound of

splashing pulled me up short. I ducked behind a mossy
boulder, slipping my pack off in case I needed to fight. I pulled
my hunting rifle and crept closer to the noise. From studying
the map before setting out this morning, I knew a loch waited
in the valley’s base, probably a very picturesque one
surrounded by lush grass and exposed craggy formations.

Gripping the rifle’s wooden stock to ground me, I peered

around the granite.

Air lodged in my lungs, and I fought not to choke.

A monster surfaced from the cool blue of the loch. The lamia
ran a clawed hand through his short hair, the dark gold mane
slicked back with water. I could make out the sharp points of
his brow and the full curve of his lips. His broad chest was
caressed with bronze scales, which lightened towards his front
and darkened, mixing with rich coffee shades, to form a
curious diamond pattern along his back.

I couldn’t look away. Not even if a hundred gargoyles were

swooping towards me, broadswords drawn.

My prey ran his hand slowly across his chiselled abs,

following those lucky drops of water downwards. Lightly
skimming over his muscles, he stroked over the scaled bulge
of his crotch, only a few inches above the waterline.
 I sucked in a gasp as his fingers disappeared, questing
through a seam in his body.

I knew some castes had internal sexual organs, stored within

their body for protection, but I’d never seen it.

A low groan reached me on the breeze, causing me to squirm

at the obvious desire saturating the noise. His hand slowly
surfaced, pulling forth his thick length, a richer tan shade than
the almost dessert beige scales that started at his hips.

A second cock joined the first.

Two. Dicks.

My brain short-circuited. It was erotic overwhelm. Too many

naughty possibilities ran through my mind, the fantasies as
shocking as they were numerous.

Both cocks were lightly scaled along the shaft. I couldn’t

help but imagine how they’d feel inside me, rubbing against
my inner walls. Would they be firm and textured? Or smooth
and slick?

I could hardly breathe at the sultry scene blooming before

me. The lamia stroked first one hard length, then the other.

His second hand joined in as he lazily stroked each cock. Up

and down, he seemed to tease himself, the pace agonisingly
slow.

I forgot all about the rain. The cold. The running. The
danger.
 Wetness slicked my panties as I stared, mesmerised. My core
clenched in need. I’d never felt so empty as I watched the alien
male.

He tipped his head back, flat nostrils flaring wide with a

deep inhale. He hissed, increasing his speed as he worked both
cocks faster in tandem. They seemed to swell, growing ripe
with need as he pleasured himself out here in the open
wilderness.

A forked tongue flickered out between his full lips, as if he

were tasting the air like a true snake.

He groaned, jerking hard on his solid lengths.

My throat vibrated on a low moan as jets of white spurted

from both tips. The thick ropes painted his chiselled abs and
spilled down his hands. My mouth watered at the need to lap
up a few stray drops. Would he taste like human men?
Something told me the wicked fae would be far sweeter on my
tongue.

I almost broke cover, catching myself before I could take

another step from my hiding place. With a shuddering breath, I
dug my hands into the rock, letting its chill sap some of the
fevered inferno my enemy had sparked inside me.

Serpentine eyes blinked open as the lamia gave one last

squeeze.

“Enjoy the show?” His raspy tone caressed my senses,

lulling me into a trance.
 I blinked, adrenaline shooting through me as his words
registered.

He couldn’t possibly know I was there. The snake would

have already tried to capture me if that were true. Right?

Rattle angled himself to face me head-on. Golden eyes

locked onto my hiding spot with unerring accuracy.

I froze, unable to so much as breathe.

“I said, did you enjoy the show, Killer?” For a lamia, his low
hiss was almost a sensual purr.

He slithered closer, cum painting his scarred body. Both

cocks were still hard and ready, pointing right at me like they,
too, knew exactly where I hid.

The moment his tail left the water, panic shattered his erotic
spell.

As much as a part of me longed to indulge in the offer

seeming to darken his pleasure-glazed eyes, I didn’t want to be
kidnapped by the fae. I’d gone through a lot to gain my
independence, and no man, magical double cocks or not, was
going to take that from me.

I turned and fled before he could get any closer.

A husky laugh chased after me. “Next time, I won’t let you
go so easily!”

The annoying little voice in the back of my head snorted and

called me a coward, but I didn’t turn back, even as his sensual
voice slipped into my brain and stroked some primal longing
buried within.
Chapter Eleven
 Kelsea

A
few cautious grouses dotted the scrubland, pecking
away at their morning feast. Despite my rumbling
stomach, I kept a healthy distance from the tantalising game. If
I sent a whole flock squawking and fluttering off, my bronzed
pursuer was bound to find me just that much faster.

After yesterday’s little showdown, I was still trying to orient

myself.

Somehow, seeing the hunter undone with pleasure had

shifted something in my brain, and I couldn’t get my thoughts
back into an orderly line.

Instead, for the past day, I’d been thinking about something
sensible, like the best stream to refill my water supplies or
whether to forage more chanterelle mushrooms, then bam—a
mental image of the hunter stroking himself would crash into
my mind like a wrecking ball, scattering my thoughts.
 Are those scales smooth or rough? Do lamias always come
from both cocks at once?

A blush warmed my cheeks. Why was I obsessing over the

fae assigned to kidnap me? Could you get pre-kidnap
Stockholm Syndrome?

“Get a grip, lass,” I hissed at myself, trying to keep focussed

on evading capture as I hiked through the grass, keeping to the
shadows cast by a small mountain.

With the initial shock of being Selected having passed in the

few days since I’d found the life-altering invite, I needed to
turn my attention to the future. Primarily, how best to drop off
the grid so thoroughly that even a magical tracker couldn’t
find me.

A grim determination settled in my gut. Living on the run

would be a tough existence, but eventually, they’d forget about
little old me, right?

At least I wasn’t leaving anyone behind in Inverness. No

family. No friends.

I tried to look at it in a positive light, but even I couldn’t

summon the effort to lie to myself.

It was just plain sad.

And what was worse was that it hadn’t always been that way.

I took a deep breath, controlling my heart rate with steady

exhales as I jogged at a slow yomp, heading up towards the
next shallow valley.
 At one time, I’d had a family of squaddies around me. We
did everything together—lived, trained, worked, played. For
years, I’d been in a tight-knit group, supported and
exasperated in equal measure.

But that had all changed during one dickbag of a night.

We’d come off a particularly brutal deployment in the

Nordics. The expedition had battered my body and mind,
reminding me of why I hated training to fight the chillier fae
castes. We’d barely survived an ambush from a multi-caste
insurgent group. Returning home had been a relief, one we’d
celebrated with too much booze and a healthy dose of cheer.

But Zachariah, our idiot Staff Sergeant, had been persuaded

to take a hit of Barbie. The highly illegal drug was strong
enough to give even the fae who’d created it a wild high. On a
pure human, it fucked them right up. Like paralytic-drunk yet
still able to function enough to carry out the idiot signals sent
by their scrambled brain.

I’d known for years that Zachariah had a crush on me. I

didn’t expect him to act on it. But the drug had swapped
reason for a possessive insanity.

That was the only one I could get past. When he came on to
me for a second time, sober as a nun, that was when things
really soured. He hadn’t wanted to take no for an answer, so
I’d answered for him. With my fist to his face.

Repeatedly.
 I was swiftly booted out of the military on my arse for
assault. Rules are rules, they’d said. Like attempted sexual
assault wasn’t a crime in itself, worthy of a little self-defence.

The worst part, though, was that the rest of my squad, my

brothers- and sisters-in-arms, all sided with him. They saw his
purpled face and crooked nose and assumed that the ‘gentle
giant’ Zachariah was merely asking me out, all romantic and
chivalrous. That I’d overreacted and attacked him unprovoked.
Everyone knew he’d fancied me from the start. Love at first
sight, apparently.

Of course he’d never corner me with his bulk and try to take
what wasn’t freely given.

Anger made me pound the dirt harder than necessary as I

jogged through my ancestral homeland. This place had always
brought me peace, and I let the soft warmth of daybreak and
the fresh scent of dewy grass soothe the ragged edges of my
rage and hurt.

Anyone not willing to hear your side of the story wasn’t

really a friend anyway, let alone family.

Since the incident, a part of me had just wanted to escape it

all. Running through the open landscape of the Highlands felt
as close to freedom as someone like me could get.

A small smile curved my lips as I felt the sun’s rays kiss my

skin. I tilted my face up, basking like a snake.

Did lamias like to bask too?

Ugh. Get a grip.

 I took a deep, cleansing breath, exhaling all useless thoughts
and confusing feelings for alluring lamias.

The world spun as something solid slammed into my side,

wrapping my body.

Air whooshed from my lungs as I hit the ground with a

grunt. I blinked, blinded by a sudden glare. Warmth engulfed
me, and I belatedly realised a scaled tail coiled around my legs
while a strong pair of arms banded my torso and Bergen pack,
trapping my arms to my sides.

The feral male who’d stalked my thoughts smirked at me,

revealing a hint of the pointy teeth hidden within. Short golden
hair framed his face like a corona as he replaced the sun.

Glowing snake eyes pinned me just as much as his muscular

tail.

“Ah, my pretty little Killer,” the hunter purred, forked

tongue darting out to sample the air between us. “I have you
now.”

Adrenaline shot through me, heightening my senses and

bringing his handsome features into startling clarity. His tail
coiled tighter and tighter around my legs.

The silly serpent clearly thought he had me at his mercy.

I raised a brow, my voice dropping to a husky octave. “You

mean, had me.”

Lines creased between his short horns as I grinned. He’d

trapped my upper arms, but my hands were free.
 In a smooth manoeuvre honed by repetition, I drew the
combat knife strapped to my thigh and plunged it into him.

He hissed, instantly uncurling as the blade bit into his scales.

Wet heat splattered my hand as I rolled free, slipping my arms
from my bag as I popped to my feet. I’d rather survive without
my kit than get captured with my things. The scent of apricots
and honey flavoured the air, seeming to coat my tongue.

Ignoring the oddly tempting aroma, I reversed my grip on

the handle for fast slashes, baring my teeth at the startled fae.
“What? Don’t like ‘em feisty, Sunshine?”

He chuckled, a sinful rasp leaving his slim lips. “Sweet

human, this is foreplay.”

I lunged, swiping at his broad chest, but he weaved back

with sinuous ease, eyes bright.

“Then quit teasing, and let’s fucking do this,” I snarled,

raising my knife defensively.

My nerves were shot. I’d been on the run for four days, but
that wasn’t the problem. The strangely intense male hunting
me was. Somehow, he was slithering under my skin, when I
should be focussing on my continued survival, not ridiculous
shit like what his scales might feel like pressed against my
bare skin.

His eyes never strayed from my face. “I couldn’t agree

more.” Slowly, as if trying not to spook a wild animal, he held
out his clawed hand, palm up. “Come with me, Shua’than.”
 The back of his hand had been edged in bronze scales, but
his palm was smooth skin like mine.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Stop trying to kidnap

me.” I scowled, feeling borderline feral in the face of his calm
composure.

His unusual features smoothed, almost frighteningly neutral,

like he’d donned some kind of mask. It was more terrifying
than watching his enormous fangs pop out. “You will be better
off in Faerie.”

I scoffed, detecting a hint of something like doubt in his

voice. “If Faerie is so great, why are you all jumping ship to
our world?”

His mouth pressed into a firm line. For a split second, he

glanced at his outstretched hand, something suspiciously close
to guilt flashing through his golden eyes.

Taking the opportunity, I leapt forward, slashing out at his

scarred chest as the largest centre of mass. My blade scored his
tattoo, slicing right through the crown and dagger symbol like
I was trying to cross it out.

He hissed, huge fangs snapping forward inside his mouth.

Then he was on me.

Faster than I could track, he struck, but instead of pain, he

wrapped me up once more, cradling me against his bloodied
chest as he knocked us both to the ground. His tail was already
squeezing my thighs together, immobilising my legs.

I tried to kick out at him, but it was no use.

 “Oh, Killer… you’re going to regret that,” he said, voice a
low rasp as his pupils dilated into wide ovals.

The lamia wrapped me in the tightest hug I’d ever received.

Warmth cocooned me, his hard torso like a hearth throwing
heat. His tail was almost soft compared to his muscular chest,
despite the scales.

I notched my chin, ignoring the shiver of fear dancing along

my spine. Or at least, I was going to pretend it was just fear. “I
regret nothing.”

His horned brow quirked in response, and I had to kill the

urge to thrash uselessly in his hold.

His shallow nose flared as he inhaled my scent. The vertical

slit of his pupil widened into an oval, like a pit of darkness
opening amongst the swirling gold to swallow me. He stared
intently, eyes strangely mesmerising in their alienness.

My lips parted, tongue darting out to moisten them.

His gaze dipped to my mouth, the attention like a physical

caress.

Some crazy impulse overtook me, and I reared up, lips

clashing against his.

He tensed around me, his restraining hold turning possessive

as the same madness that infected me dragged him under. He
kissed me back with a wild fervour. My teeth nipped at his
plump lower lip, and he opened for me. I swept inside,
conquering his mouth. His forked tongue stroked against mine,
and I moaned, relishing the strangeness and craving more.
 I licked along his fang, shivering at the wickedness of the
sharp point against my tongue. A hard bulge swelled against
my middle, making me gasp. With a needy groan, he
swallowed the sound; the kiss deepening as he plundered my
mouth.

My body arched, pressing harder into his heated strength and

growing arousal as his tail cuddled me tighter. The tip curved
up around me, wriggling beneath my jacket and top to seek
skin beneath as he stroked along my side.

The unique rasp of scales on skin broke me from the lusty

haze.

I jerked in his hold, realising I was kissing the enemy. The

solid weight of my knife seemed to burn in my hand. I could
have stabbed him at any moment, and the bastard knew it.

He pulled back with a sultry smile, reminding me of lazy

days in the sun. His forked tongue darted out like he was
savouring my taste, my scent, my need.

“You’re going to get me into trouble, Killer, but you’re

sweeter than anything I’ve tasted before,” he rasped, husky
voice deep with the desire shining in his hungry gaze.

I grinned, manically wide. “Actually, most people would

describe me as one bitter bitch.”

My blade found a home between his ribs. At the last second,

something stopped me shoving in the full length. More a
cheeky hello-stab than a death-stab.
 He grunted, features flattening. I shoved into his chest
wound, pushing him off me. Blood coated my hands as I
scrambled out from the coils of the monster I’d kissed and
stabbed. I snagged the strap of my bag, dragging it back with
me.

“Tricksssy vixxxen,” the lamia hissed, tail quaking in an

angry rattle as he gripped his bleeding side. Pushing upright,
his bright eyes locked onto me.

Once more, I turned and fled from him, like the hounds of
hell were on my arse.

“You can’t escape fate!” he yelled after me, voice whipping

away on the breeze.

For some reason, the words haunted me long after he’d

disappeared from sight.
Chapter Twelve
 Kelsea

H
ope bloomed through the storm as a stone structure
jutted from the hills like an oasis in the desert.

Rain hammered around me, pounding in an unending

cadence to match my endless hike. Water had seeped through
my waterproof jacket hours ago, soaking me down to my
bones. I was long past caring.

Another nugget of wisdom from my old lieutenant—once

you’re wet, you’re wet.

Lightning streaked through the roiling clouds, illuminating

the sky for a flash before darkness rushed back in to smother
the primordial landscape. Thunder rumbled across the
Highlands, warning every living being of the threat from
above. Visibility was as bleak as my mood.

I’d fled the hunter yesterday morning and hadn’t stopped

moving since. Time blurred as I thought back to when I’d first
seen him, a flare of sunshine on a grey day.

My body was reaching its limit. So was my mind. I was

exhausted and drowning in confusion. Maybe it was a good
thing I’d never been involved in the true war with the fae,
because clearly, all it took were some pretty scales and
hypnotic eyes to wipe years of conditioning.

Despite the constant deluge, I could still feel his lips

imprinted into mine. His forked tongue caressing me. His
scales against my skin.

I should be repulsed.

Instead, a small part of me was secretly thrilled. And maybe

just a wee bit turned on.

I huffed at myself, trudging towards the barely visible stone

building in the distance. I’d been searching for shelter for a
long time, but I’d run north, to a more remote part of the
Highlands, and out here, shelter was few and far between. It
was a stroke of luck to find this bothy, a type of Scottish
refuge, so far off the beaten track. Some of the fancier ones
were done up as remote retreats, but the emergency shelters
were often created for the parts more likely to benefit lost
hikers.

I wasn’t lost. Not really. I knew exactly where I was. I just

didn’t know where I was going.

But it was not to fucking Faerie, that was for damn sure.

The thought had me swallowing back a dark chuckle at my

predicament, my determination to remain a free woman
pushing me onwards, even when my body screamed at me to
stop.

A few heather trees, cloistered around the stone cabin, sat

just above a shingle beach edging Loch Wrath. Even with the
storm, it was a sight to behold.

I stepped inside, yanking the heavy wood shut behind me.

The winds howled, battering the shelter, as if protesting my
escape.

A smile broke across my face, lifting my spirits despite the

water dripping down the back of my neck.

For once, my luck held out. The bothy must have been one
of the restored ones, because the garage-sized cabin was cosy
rather than desolate, with its enormous log burner and raised
platform bed. There was even basic wooden furniture,
including a bookshelf holding a couple of tomes left by past
travellers. It was no Thistle Cottage, but compared to the
shelters I’d stayed in before, that was five-star luxury.

Sheets of water poured down tall windows, battering the

cabin with its ferocity, but I’d bet my collapsible fishing rod
that once the storm passed, the views of the beach and loch
would be stunning.

I dropped my pack beside the door, feeling the instant relief

in my aching shoulders.

Quickly kicking my shoes off, I peeled off my damp socks

and the rest of my wet clothing with a grimace, until I was
down to my underwear. Cold air nipped at me, but I’d never
warm up smothered in soggy fabric. I grabbed my sheathed
knife on instinct, comforted by the familiar weight as I
strapped it to my thigh.

A simple hatchet rested next to a wicker basket of firewood,

and I wasted no time in filling the fireplace with a few smaller
pieces for kindling. Swiping a box of matches from beside the
frayed basket, I struck the match. A thunder clap swallowed
the noise.

After a few shivering minutes of kindling TLC, I managed to

coax a beautiful fire to life. For a long minute, I closed my
eyes and bathed in the warmth washing over me. Relishing a
peaceful moment to just exist, I soaked up the dramatic
backdrop of rolling thunder and crackling flames like a balm
to my soul.

If I only had a decent glass of scotch and a good book, I’d be

one happy Highlander.

Reality crept back in with the reminder of the relaxing

evening I’d had planned a few days ago, stolen by a thick
piece of card and some fancy golden scrawl.

“Not exactly how I pictured my retirement from military

life,” I muttered.

My voice echoed off the walls, despite the roaring storm

beyond them. I huffed at how ridiculous I sounded talking to
myself.

I’d only been in the wilderness for five days, and apparently,
I was losing it already. Life on civvie street had clearly
softened me up to a cinnamon roll, rather than the tough
cookie I used to be.

I stared into the flames, leaving the grate on the log burner
open to help me dry off. At this point, even fishing my
microfiber towel from my pack seemed like too much effort.

The past five days had only been a hint of what my life
would be like on the run from the fae and human authorities.
Only one lone hunter chased me at the moment. Would they
send more after me if the sunny snake didn’t deliver? How
long would I need to evade capture until they just gave up?

Would they?

I’d need to think about heading into different towns and

villages nestled amongst the Highlands for supply runs, but I
could live off the land’s generosity for quite a while if I had to.
I’d learned to hunt long ago, taught by my grandparents with
both a shotgun and snares, catching the pheasants, hares and
squirrels who called this rugged terrain home.

A great boom struck as the door slammed open.

Instinct had me snatching up the hatchet and leaping to my

feet, raising the weapon high as a figure barrelled inside.
Lightning backlit the imposing beast. Adrenaline flooded my
system.

“Like summoning the devil himself.” I chuckled, taking in

the sight of bronze scales and one sodden lamia even as the
shocked rush had me jittery.
 “Oh, little Killer, you have no idea,” he hissed, water
dripping down the planes of his angular face. A few drops
clung to his deeper scars, highlighting the violence of his
form. His gaze ran across my body, lighting up a trail of heat.

I’d never been more aware of how little fabric a bra and
panties truly were. His jaw feathered, like the sight of my half-
naked body only pissed him off.

Good.

I bared my teeth, letting the wildness in peek out. “Enough

foreplay, Sunshine. This ends now.”

He bared his right back. The vicious points dripped liquid,

which I really hoped was rainwater and not some toxic venom.

He launched forward, tail propelling him with stunning

speed. I swung, but he batted my axe aside mid-arc. I let the
weapon thud into the wall, using the distraction to draw my
knife with my free hand instead.

The snake was already dodging aside as I swiped out in a

flash of silver.

“I already know your little trickssss.” His hiss was a low

rasp, strangely lulling.

I snarled in response, slashing out again anyway, just to

watch him dart back again.

We slowed, circling one another in the tight confines of the

hut. His tail was long enough that I almost tripped over the tip.
He lifted it at the last second, rattling the darkened end side-to-
side in a hair-raising warning.
 My heart thudded, as my adrenaline spiked even higher.

“Come with me. Now. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, low
and careful, but his sharp claws and fangs were poised at the
ready.

I snorted. “Then let me go.”

A tightness creased the corners of his golden eyes, crinkling

his ragged scars. “I can’t.”

“Why? What do you even need with us humans, anyway?”

He swallowed thickly, throat bobbing. “If I could let you go,

I would.”
Chapter Thirteen
 Rattle

D
idn’t she understand? I wanted none of this.

In nothing but her underwear, the gorgeous Shua’than

glared at me, cheeks flushed with anger.

I’d never felt more like a monster.

I was sick of chasing down humans to steal them away,

tearing them from their loved ones and crushing whatever
dreams they’d harboured for their futures. But I had no choice.

I didn’t blame Kelsea for her anger at me, but that didn’t
mean I could let her go either. Something about her drew me
in. At this point, I wasn’t sure if I was hunting her for the
Council anymore, or for myself. The idea of handing her over
to anyone had venom dripping from my fangs.

She roared, darting in and slashing out at my chest. Pain

arced through my flesh as her blade sliced deep.

I snagged her wrist, clamping hard. She yanked free, in a

honed moved I could tell she’d drilled repeatedly. My claws
raked through her skin though, drawing blood.
 Heat trickled down my ribs as my chest throbbed. The
tricksy female had sliced through my tattoo, again, completing
the X she’d started earlier.

I arched a brow, meeting her accusing gaze.

Time suspended as the most delectable scent hit me. Alluring

yet dangerous, like vanilla cookies and hot metal. I flicked my
tongue out, desperate for more.

A high-pitched ringing drowned out the world, narrowing

my focus until there was only her.

Beads of red welled across her wrist—the source of the scent

—and I knew in my heart I’d just found everything I’d been
searching for.

Joy like I’d never known eclipsed my being. Every cell in

my body felt pulled towards her as reality rushed back in with
the rumble of thunder.

How could a twisted lowborn like me be so blessed?

I was a powerless Council dog, riddled with scars, battered

and broken both inside and out. But she was perfect. Utterly
fucking perfect. Her beauty only rivalled by her fierceness and
wit. A true warrior. A goddess amongst mortals.

And she was mine.

I didn’t deserve her, but I was fucking keeping her.

“Heartmate,” I breathed.
Chapter Fourteen
 Kelsea

T
he strange word wrenched from the lamia’s soul to echo
through the cabin.

A drugging joy suffused the bronze male’s features, almost

like he’d taken a hit of Barbie.

I paused, blade gripped tight, as I tried to figure out this new

development.

“What does that mean?” I asked, shifting back while holding

a fighting stance.

My palm grew damp against the knife handle. I had a

sinking suspicion.

He lunged for me, knocking the blade aside as he wrapped

his arms and tail around me faster than I’d ever seen him
move. Heat engulfed me as I struggled to get free, but he held
me immobile, arms banding around my back while his coils
swallowed me completely.
 He grinned, using his tail to raise me up in an impressive
display of strength as his arms released me, replaced by the
muscular coils, hot and firm against my skin.

“It means I’ve been searching for you for a long time.” His
voice was a sensual, low rasp that wound around me as much
as his scaled tail.

He was utterly captivating, handsome features radiating an

excitement that had unease, and something I didn’t want to
look too closely at, shivering down my spine.

I stopped struggling, reaching instead for the unnatural calm

that I knew existed somewhere beneath the panic threatening
to render me useless. I’d trained for this moment for years.
Sure, during fight drills, I wasn’t in just my underwear, but I
would not falter now that I was finally caught in my enemy’s
clutches.

“Aye, a few days at least, eh, pally?”

The lamia shook his diamond-shaped head, flashing glossy

elongated fangs in a wicked grin. His golden eyes tried to
drown me in their intensity, accented by the vicious scars
slashing over his right eye. “No, Kelsea. My entire life.”

I sucked in a breath. It was the first time I’d heard him say
my name, and the exotic hiss of his accent caused me to
tremble. Panic squeezed my throat as the seriousness of this
moment burrowed into my mind. Many fae dated and chose
their partners in way similar to us humans, even having a
wedding-like ceremony to seal the deal, but there was rumour
that some castes only took a partner chosen by fate.
 “No.” I shook my head. “How is that possible? I’m a fucking
human, not a snake.”

“I told you that you couldn’t escape fate.” His lips twitched
in a smirk. “It just so happens that your fate is me. It doesn’t
matter what you are, Kelsea, you’re mine. Your blood sings to
me. My heart beats for you.”

Some unexpected emotion hit me at his declaration. Giving

myself a mental slap, I cocked a brow. “Wow. Does that line
work on all your victims?”

His smile turned wry. “Only the ones destined to be mine

forever.”

I couldn’t help it. At his unwavering conviction, I started

squirming again, but his tail was the warmest of hugs and it
was impossible wriggle my way free. “We’ll fucking see about
that. Put me down, Sunshine! I will stab you again.”

Seven gruelling year of training and with one unexpected

romantic declaration, I was resorting to panicked thrashing and
petulant demands. Maybe they’d been right to boot me from
the Navy.

“No.” He chuckled and drew me even closer, sucking me

into his orbit like I was a stray bit of debris.

Our lips were inches apart.

My heart thundered, mocking the feeble storm outside with

the one raging inside me.

His tongue darted out, the forked tip whispering over my

lips. I sucked in a breath at the faint caress, feeling my body
respond in a tightening warmth low in my abdomen.

Time stilled as tension thickened the air.

A part of me had always been attracted to danger. My mind

translated that strong males made strong protectors, and I’d
always been drawn to bad boys as a result. Of course, I’d had
my heart stomped on by too many of them until I learned to
keep it safe. I’d trained hard to be able to defend myself, but
the idea of having all of that muscular power under my fingers
was still a heady thought. Even if he was the enemy.

Something about this intriguing fae was messing with me.

Everything about him seemed to lure me in. He even smelled
good; the scent of sun-baked apricots making me lick my lips.

His gaze zeroed in on the movement, hunger clear in his

flaring eyes.

The predator lunged, his lips slamming against mine. I

gasped at the sudden contact, and he swept inside, forked
tongue lashing at me. Shock clamped me in its jaws as my
enemy devoured my lips.

He groaned into my mouth, wicked tongue teasing mine as I

held rigid in his coils. Sparks of heat caught fire in my middle
as he kissed me, trying to burn me up with startling need.
Before my brain could settle on whether to kiss him back or
bite off his tongue, Sunshine withdrew, leaving only the
slightest gap between us.

“Like the darkest berries spiked with the sweetest wine,” he

purred against me, forked tongue taunting my swollen lips in a
tickling caress.

“What are you doing?” I breathed, need rolling through my

body with an alarming strength. “We’re meant to be fighting.”

Why was I reminding him to attack me? I should be striking

while he was vulnerable.

“No, Killer. We’re meant to be fucking.”

Desire crashed over me, threatening to sweep me out to sea

on a wave of lust.

Before I could figure out how to stab him again, before

stabbing my dumb horny self, he slammed me onto the
platform bed. I gasped at the impact, blinking up at the
bronzed silhouette hovering over me, but his coils had
cushioned the blow.

Slowly, his tail shifted, running against my bare skin in a

textured glide of warm scales. They scraped lightly against my
stomach and thighs, somehow both smooth and ridged, like the
tease of nails grazing your skin. Goosebumps erupted in his
wake as I breathed hard, trapped within his tail. The rattle tip
slid around my wrists like rope, yanking them above my head
to arch my back. The thick section under my breasts held firm.

But it wasn’t his tail I should have been worried about.

His claws sunk into my thighs, forcing my legs open with a

prickling threat.

I snarled, fighting to keep them closed despite the bite of

pain.
 Something hard pressed against my fingers, drawing my
gaze upwards. His rattle wove around the handle of my knife,
pushing it into my hand.

My eyes widened, but I didn’t hesitate, grasping onto the

blade even with the vice of his scales shackling my wrist.

His tail tugged over my body, bringing my bound hands

down to hover over the apex of my spread thighs. The middle
section shifted me until I was curled up enough to watch him
slide down fitting his broad shoulders between my legs. My
chest heaved, pushing against his hold with every rapid breath.

Rattle grinned, leaning in until his throat rested just slither

away from the glinting metal, gripped in my powerless hold.

“If you want me to stop, you’ll have to make me, little

Killer,” he rasped, golden eyes boring into mine. The three
pale scars slashing over one eye stood in stark contrast to the
rich shade. “I know how much you love to make me bleed.”
His devilish smirk could have melted the panties off a nun.

He loosened his tail a fraction, and I surged forward. I

shoved the knife against his neck until a bead of red swelled.
But he didn’t stop me.

My jaw slackened. This had to be some kind of trick.

His forked tongue slid out from between parted lips.

Impossibly long, it curved over the blade I pressed to his
throat, dipping down to trail along my inner thigh, just above
where his claws pricked me.
 My core fluttered at the teasing caress, but it throbbed even
harder at the heady rush of power. I held his life in my hands.
He was willing to bleed just to taste me.

“Fucking psycho snake,” I groaned, as his meaty tongue

inched higher. “You’re unhinged.”

“Only for you.”

He slipped the forked tip beneath the edge of my panties,

running along the crease of my thigh. Taunting me.

I pressed the blade in harder, watching another bead of red

slip down the thick column of his throat. Time stretched
between us as he watched me, waiting for either pain or
permission.

I wasn’t sure about this whole fated heartmate thing, but

something about him called to me. Had been for days now if I
was being honest with myself. The tension had been escalating
until it was impossible to ignore.

This obsession I was developing with the man trying to

kidnap me wasn’t normal. Wasn’t sane. But I wasn’t sure if I’d
ever been playing with a full deck of cards. Maybe I was just
as unhinged as the snake claiming that I was apparently
destined to be his.

“Well, like Granny always said—fight crazy with crazier.” I

chuckled.

Probably not what she had in mind when she dished out the
sage advice, but this was the exact madness she’d be cackling
over and cheering me on for.
 Either way, I was beyond logic now. Need burned through
me, spurring me on with a wild abandon.

I parted my legs wider, eagerly welcoming the breadth of his

muscled shoulders between them. Even so, I dug the blade a
little harder into his throat, baring my teeth. “But we’re
enemies. This doesn’t mean anything, Sunshine.”

His fangs loomed in his mouth, the almost elegantly curved

weapons dripping a clear fluid from the tips. Venom dropped
to kiss the blade.

“Oh, Killer. It means everything.”

His tongue slashed through my folds in a wet assault of bliss.

I bit my lip to hold back a gasp. My hips bucked at the

shocking pleasure, but his claws held me in check. I lost any
urgency to challenge his claim as need pulled me under.

He groaned, tongue retreating into his mouth. A look of

ecstasy suffused his features before he blinked, pinning me
with the intensity of his gaze.

He looked ravenous.

I had a second to brace before his tongue darted back out,

sliding beneath my wet panties to launch another siege on my
sensitive lips. Laving against me in firm, smooth strokes that
had me racing towards my peak embarrassingly quick. But he
didn’t stop.

“Oh fuck, Sunshine. That feels—”

 He cut me off with a flicker of his wicked fork against my
clit. Then he pressed hard against me and hissed.

The deep vibrations shoved me right off the cliff to shatter in

the valley below.

I groaned, body bowing with the pleasure as the orgasm

smashed through me. His coils tightened, keeping me pinned
exactly where he wanted me as he tormented me, feasting,
while I moaned for him, a willing prey.
Chapter Fifteen
 Kelsea

T
he lamia between my thighs finally relented with one
last, slow swipe through my slickness. My hips jerked at
the delicious lash before I slumped in his heated coils, trying
to figure out how to breathe again.

“My sweet heartmate…” His voice had roughened to a low

gravel, sounding even more sexy than his usual rasp. “I could
die a happy male with your taste on my tongue.”

Bright golden eyes pinned me as much as his thick tail

banding my wrists and middle, or the claws still holding my
thighs open.

My whole body floated on a cloud of bliss, but the anxiety

over him claiming me as his mate reared its ugly head. “I’ve
not agreed to anything… heartmate-y, remember?” I winced at
the squeaky pitch to my voice, betraying my panic. I cleared
my throat. “Mind-blowing orgasm or not, we hardly know
each other and we aren’t exactly on the same side, pal.”
 “I know enough to know you’re perfect for me, but as a
human, I understand you won’t have the same certainty. Yet.”
His eyes glowed, churning with the depth of his emotions. “If
it’s time you need, I’ll wait until my final breath for you.” A
wry smile twitched his glistening lips, dissipating the heavy
moment. “Though perhaps a few more orgasms will at least
convince you to stop stabbing your mate for now.”

I snorted at his teasing, placated by his acceptance of my

non-commitment. I was safe to explore this thing between us
without the fae equivalent of getting engaged.

I still held a knife near his throat. Thankfully, I’d managed

not to accidentally murder the fae eating me out like his last
meal. What a poor reward that would be.

His claws edged closer, skating dangerously along my inner

thighs. I sucked in a breath, helpless in his grip, as he toyed
with me. His tail lifted my hands back over my head,
stretching me out in his warm hold. He rose after them,
slithering higher until his upper body hovered over mine, and
he planted his palms either side of my shoulders, boxing me in
with his bronzed perfection.

Firelight danced across the sharp planes of his face. It

glowed off his bronze scales until he looked like the sun
trapped in fae form—stunning yet dangerous to look at. He
was beautiful in a deadly way that had a shiver racing across
my skin.

“You know, fae like to claim their mates in a primal way…

but I’m sure a fierce warrior like you can take it. Tell me,
Killer, do you like it rough?” He hissed, that sinful forked
tongue flickering out between his lips in a tease so close to
mine.

My core was already drenched. Wet and needy, I felt empty.

I squirmed in his hold as the flames of need rekindled, like that
taste of pleasure only made me ravenous for more. For him.

“Sunshine…” I groaned before baring my teeth in a snarl.

“Quit playing with your food. Rattle me.”

He chuckled, a raspy sound like winds in a desert. “Oh, little

heartmate, you’re going to regret that.”

I snapped forwards, biting at the air inches from his

handsome face. “Make me.”

Challenge flared in his eyes.

His tail tightened around my waist, giving me a warning

squeeze. “Reach down and pull my cocks out. Now.”

Heat shot through me at the thought of exploring the seam

covering the angry bulge. I did as he commanded, gripping the
knife in one hand and reaching for my prize with the other.

Smooth scales met my fingertips. He hissed but held still as I

stroked at the pale mound until I found the slit down the
centre. I hooked my fingers inside, gasping at the cocooned
heat. It was so unlike anything I’d have expected. Two hard
lengths, thick and muscular, waited for me. I groaned, stroking
along the scaled thickness, and they pulsed in response.

“That’s it, sweet human. It feels so good to have you reach in

and tease me like that.”
 I relished the alien sensation and how much pleasure it
seemed to inflict upon the being who’d hunted me for days.
The thrill of power was a heady rush, only adding to the desire
burning me up.

My fingers circled the bulbous head of one of his cocks, and

I pulled it forwards, slowly dragging it out of hiding. His head
breached the seam. His lower cock followed, reminding me of
a monster rising from the deep.

I stifled a nervous giggle at the thought.

I was ex-military. I do not giggle.

Swallowing thickly, I squeezed his scaled length, battling to

see if my fingers could meet around his impressive girth
despite the impossible task.

Giving up with a low grunt, I pumped him up and down.

Once. Twice.

All the while, he watched me with a predatory intensity, but

allowed me to explore, to play and tease as I got used to the
inhumanness of him.

I switched grip, reaching for his lower cock instead. It was a

slightly darker shade of bronze and a bigger size, but just as
firm, covered in slick scales as beads of liquid began to dribble
from the tip.

“If you keep just teasing, I’m going to think you aren’t ready
to be fucked,” he whispered, slitted pupils blown wide. With a
swift yank, he snapped open my plain bra, shoving the cups
aside.
 I grinned up at him, feeling him drawing me closer to his
body until my nipples brushed his chest, ridged scars adding a
wicked texture. “Oh, Sunshine, I’m going to rock your world.”

I lunged, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. He groaned,

returning my kiss with equal fervour until we devoured each
other in a vicious clash of fangs and teeth.

He lifted me high, his tail incredibly long and muscular. I

pouted as my hand was ripped off his cock until I hovered
with my hips at his head-height.

“What are you—?” My question was cut off on a gasp as he

struck, lightning quick.

His fangs shredded through my panties, yanking them clean

off my body. Before I could so much as gasp, his tongue
plunged into my pussy. Thick and hot, it squirmed inside me,
writhing against my squeezing channel. I groaned as he
hummed in pleasure, the base of his tongue pressing against
my needy clit in a mind-bending sensation.

His tongue pulled from my entrance, running along the

length of my still sensitive folds before circling my clit. I
moaned, angling my hips to give him better access.

His raspy chuckle vibrated against the needy bud, and I

jerked in his tail’s firm hold. “You taste divine. So fucking
sweet I could eat nothing but your pussy for the rest of my
days.”

“Oh god, Rattle, please,” I groaned. “Stop teasing me. I need

to come again.”
 “Shh, little heartmate.” His tongue flicked against my clit
again as his honey eyes pierced mine. “I’m going to take care
of you. In every way. You’re mine.”

At his declaration, he brought me down. Straight onto his

waiting cock. I finally dropped the knife and screamed at the
sudden fullness, my cries swallowing the metallic clatter and
roaring thunder.

The deep ache burned as he stretched me to my limits. But I

loved every vicious second. I writhed, clawing at his muscular
chest until I felt the skin give. Warm blood coated my
fingertips, but I couldn’t think enough to worry.

Rattle hissed, a look of bliss softening his harsh features.

“Yess, little mate, show me your fierce need.”

Something thick pressed along the cleft of my arse. I jolted

with a realisation—his lower cock waited. The heated length
only added to the sensations bombarding me, as if in sensual
threat.

His firm coils held me still on his scaled length as I fought to

adjust to the delicious invasion.

Just as I started to relax against him, his tail tightened, lifting

off his length until just the thick head remained. My wide eyes
met his. A devious smirk was my only warning.

He brought me back down with a slap of flesh on flesh. I

moaned, scratching at his biceps, and he used his tail to move
me up and down on his hard cock.
 His hands found my breasts, palming them before squeezing
and massaging. They felt full, heavy with desire.

I mewled as he thrust into me harder, his pace losing its

careful control as his hips and tail worked in tandem until he
was pounding into me with a ferocity I wasn’t sure I could
handle, but I craved more and more with every rough impale.

“Fuck. Please, Sunshine!” I groaned. “More,” I snarled, hand

darting out to grip his throat.

My pale hand looked ridiculous clamped around the front of

his tanned neck, edged in gorgeous scales, but I didn’t care. I
needed more, and I needed it now.

His eyes flared brighter. “As my heartmate commands.”

Before I could even mourn the loss, he ripped me off his

cock and notched a thicker head against me. I gasped as his
lower cock replaced the first, filling me with an almost
uncomfortably deep stretch. His upper length pressed hot and
firm against my needy bud, slick from my pleasure.

“Oh, fuuuuck!” My eyes lost focus for a moment. It stunned

me that I hadn’t thought about this use for his second cock.

The slicked scales added a delicious texture as his heavy,

throbbing heat pressed hard against my clit.

He chuckled, looking wicked and unhinged. His hand

reached down, circling his upper cock. I groaned as he tugged
on his length, almost vibrating against my clit. His lower cock
swelled inside me, throbbing and twitching like a vibrator.

“Fuck me,” I commanded.

 He bared his fangs, dripping clear venom on my chest in
tingling splashes. “Wait.”

I hissed; the sound feral enough to rival his.

“That’s it, my fierce little heartmate. I love how much you

already crave my cock. I’m going to cover you in my seed,
mark your pretty flesh so you’re drowning in my scent while I
fuck you.”

His words had me clenching on his length, pussy fluttering

as if just voicing his desires could send me spiralling into
another orgasm.

He grunted, working himself harder. Dropping us to the

floor, he circled his tail under my head and shoulders to
cocoon me in a nest made of him. His upper body reared over
me, eyes eating up my every expression as I moaned and
bucked on his length.

“Fuck!” With a jerk of his hips that had me mewling in

pleasure, his cock erupted, spilling hot jets of fluid up the
length of my body, splashing over my breasts and hitting my
chin. It painted my abdomen before spilling over his hand and
down over my clit.

The heated silk of his cum covered my pussy. I writhed at

the delicious sensation.

“Sunshine, I need you,” I moaned, trying to fuck myself on

his swollen cock.

He panted hard, flashing me a wicked grin. “Oh, I’m not

nearly done with you yet, Killer.” He drew his hips back. “I
never will be.” And then he thrust his thicker length in to the
hilt.

I screamed, writhing at the twin sensations as his dripping

upper cock ground against my clit at the same time. His
fingers strummed over my nipples, tugging and playing as he
began to fuck me like he meant it.

“Harder!” I snarled, squeezing his neck.

His eyes narrowed as he hissed, baring his huge fangs. His

muscular tail wrapped around my waist once more, squelching
against my skin with the warm seed he’d covered me in.
Seated deep, he lifted me up, angling me near parallel to the
floor as he rose with me. I hovered in the air, trapped
powerless in his unyielding hold.

He slammed his huge cock harder and deeper with me

completely at his mercy, his tail moving me in a dizzying,
bouncing motion against him.

I could hardly breathe as I shot towards that peak. The

glittering, shining light got brighter and brighter with every
rough thrust of my lamia as he owned me. Claimed me. Took
me. So hard I felt my brain rattle in my skull.

I loved every fucking second.

Heat pulsed through my body, spreading outwards from my

tightening core.

Rattle hissed, angling deeper still. It pressed his upper cock

even harder against my clit. The friction. The fullness.

It was too much.

 I screamed, shattering, and a blinding orgasm ripped through
me. He snarled and hissed, following me right over the edge.
His lower cock pulsed hard, shooting liquid deep inside me
hard enough for me to feel as my pussy clamped on his
throbbing length.

The world ceased to exist. There was nothing but pleasure

and him as my orgasm rolled on and on through my body.

Our breaths mingled as Rattle leaned down, using his tail to

tilt me back upright without letting go as he cradled me
securely, his sun-baked apricot scent wrapping me in comfort.
His golden eyes pierced me with a claiming intensity.

His lips pressed to mine in a delicate kiss, so light and sweet

it was a stark contrast to the brutal passion we’d shared.

“My heartmate,” he murmured against my lips. “My

everything.”
Chapter Sixteen
 Kelsea

P
leasure sung through my body, flowing through my veins
in a torrent of liquid heat, as I came down from the high
Rattle had lifted me to. He pulled free slowly, a gush of seed
coating us both. I groaned at the wet slide, my sensitive core
overwhelmed at the sensation and yet crying out at the loss.

Warm scales still looped my waist, hugging me against his

chest before he wrapped his arms around my shoulders for
added support. One hand toyed with the ends of my hair, pale
claws running through my midnight purple locks. I’d never
felt so much bliss and yet so much safety.

In the coils of my enemy, no less.

I snorted; a weird chuffing laugh I might be embarrassed by

if I had enough mental capacity. “Well, that was a surprise.”

Rattle grinned, showing off his pointy teeth and even

pointier fangs. “A good one, I hope.”
 I nodded enthusiastically, like the cool cucumber I was. “Oh
aye, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at a snake again
without blushing.”

His head tipped back as he laughed. Firelight danced across

his face, highlighting the three ragged scars over one eye.

The sound warmed something in my chest until I was

grinning like a lunatic.

The low rasps simmered as he stroked a clawed hand along

my cheek. His expression shifted, a small crease appearing
between his horned brows. “We need to leave.”

Reality punched me in the tit. “So… you’re not still going to

kidnap me, right?”

He smirked, looking irresistibly charming. “Not for the Fae

Council, but it’s tempting to drag you off to my lair and keep
you all to myself.”

“For a venomous snake, you’re a real sweetie,” I drawled.

He flashed a cheeky grin, the lightness so at odds with all the

glowering he was throwing my way these past few days. “I
know.”

I needed to stop mooning over the sexy snake and start

planning like a sensible adult with more than two brain cells to
rub together. “What do they even want with me? With all the
humans they take?”

I couldn’t shift the nagging curiosity. Like maybe if I at least

knew what I was running from, it would be easier to evade
them or somehow convince them I wasn’t worth the hassle.
Several knives and a rifle would probably help.

Rattle sighed, snuggling me closer against his chest as he ran

a hand through my hair, sending delicious shivers through me.
“The Shua’than—or, Selected, as you call them—are entered
into the Great Hunt. Royal fae and their chosen court nobles
will have the opportunity to chase the Selected through a
sacred forest in Faerie, to seduce and sample them. Once their
time is up, the royals then make their choices, adding their
chosen individuals to their court. Some become their mates or
concubines, but most will be free to mingle with the court and
live as they see fit.”

My jaw clenched with a sparking anger, adding to the heat. I

tried to imagine what it would be like if I was captured. I
wasn’t a big fan of being chased by horny monsters through a
forest. Especially not to be added to their fae courts like a
shiny new toy.

“How very entitled of the fae. You just rip us away from our
lives on a whim and play with us? Decide who gets to own our
futures?” I scowled.

A sad half-smile curved one side of his lips. “It’s a better life
than the lowborn get.” He shook his head, a look of exhaustion
weighing his features. “But many of us disagree with the old
ways. Faerie is slowly dying, and our people are becoming
less fertile as the land’s magic fades. We need humans to
continue as a species, and yet our insipid Council is
determined to retain the illusion of control. I don’t agree with
it, but it’s not so easy to defy them.” He grimaced, eyes briefly
dropping to a scar before the luminous orbs returned to my
face.

I could almost feel the anger simmering beneath his scales.

Apparently, job satisfaction wasn’t a thing for Royal Hunters.

A defiant scowl twisted his features. “But no matter what,

they cannot have you.”

“So… what do I do?” I asked, shifting in his hold.

His bright eyes bored into me. “Escaping from the Royal
Hunters is no easy feat, but we can start with the Golden Sea
in Faerie, my desert homeland. It will throw them off your
trail, and we move on from there. I will hide us. I will keep
you safe, I promise.”

“You would do that? For me?”

Emotion thickened my throat. Heartmate or not, we barely

knew each other, and yet he was willing to throw his life away
and go on the run with me. It was a surreal thought. Even my
old squad hadn’t been concerned about protecting me when I
needed them the most.

His frown smoothed out, angular features softening. “I

would go to the ends of the realms for you, Kelsea. You are
the missing piece of my heart.”

Moisture gathered in my eyes at his sincere declaration.

Sure, we’d only met a few days ago, but I could feel the pull
between us. The instant connection. There was something
about him that made my heart soar, and it wasn’t just from the
adrenaline of a skilled predator trying to hunt me down. It was
insane. But Granny had always taught me to go with my gut
instinct, and right now, it was telling me to trust the deadly
lamia. To trust his crazy declaration of devotion, when logic
would be screaming otherwise.

Gripping his arms for support, I leaned up as much as his tail

would allow, fusing our lips, feeling the cool press of his
curved fangs. He kissed me back with an eager groan,
snapping his elongated fangs back to the roof of his mouth
before deepening the connection until he was the air I
breathed.

Lightheaded, I nipped his lower lip and pulled back. A soft

smile transformed his features, taking some of the bite out of
his lethal visage. If it weren’t for the reptilian eyes, jagged
scars and horned brows, he could almost be called handsome,
but nothing so mundane could describe his dangerous visage.

“Fuck it.” My hands squeezed his toned biceps. “Wanna run

away with me, Sunshine?”

A cocky smirk tilted one side of his lips. “Oh, Killer, you
were never going to escape me.”

I snorted, my own lips responding in kind. “Sure, pally. I can

always go find a deeper pit to throw you in.”

“I would scale any cliff if you were my prize at the top.”

Nobody had ever said anything so romantic to me before. A

lot of the ‘bad boys’ I’d date would say cute shit sometimes,
but it was all empty lies.
 Even Zachariah the creep. He didn’t actually want to protect
or cherish me like he’d muttered when fucked up on Barbie.
He was obsessed with me like I was a possession for him to
grip tight, crushing me in his hold.

“I…” I swallowed hard, trying to loosen my tongue. I had

zero experience with how to handle a comment like that.
“Thank you?”

His laugh filled the cabin, lighting the room more than the
steadily crackling flames. “You’re welcome, sweet heartmate.
No matter what, I will protect you. Always.”

“I know, but I’ll also protect you.” I stroked a hand down the
scales running along his side, feeling their warm smoothness
contrast the textured edges. “I’m not exactly a damsel in
distress.”

“Of course not. My heartmate is a fierce warrior in her own

right.” He looked offended I’d suggest otherwise. “You evaded
me for days, teasing me with wisps of your delicious scent and
flashes of your beautiful amethyst hair.” He tugged on a loose
strand with a smile.

Who was I kidding? Every strand was loose right now. There
was no way my braid had survived the onslaught of intimacy.

“Let’s get cleaned up and move out.” I paused, stunned to

realise I’d actually be willingly going to Faerie. With the
hunter sent to kidnap me in the first place.

Talk about fucking irony.

 “Is Faerie really the best place to hide from the fae?” I asked
as he set me back on my feet like I was some precious
treasure.

“Surprisingly, yes. The tracker spells we use for Shua’than

are stronger in Faerie, but so is the magic to counter them.
Plus, we could maybe find others to join us in protecting
you…” He trailed off, a thoughtful crease forming between his
horned brows.

“And why would other fae help me?” I arched a sceptical

brow.

I had a surreal sense that whatever he was about to say might

blow my tiny mind.

His tail loosened from my waist, leaving my middle cold

without his scaled touch.

He paused, the black rattle at the end of his tail half-raised at

his side as he shot me a look that I could only describe as
considering. “Well, if you find more mates…”

My jaw dropped. “More of you!?”

Chapter Seventeen
 Kelsea

R
attle smirked, the wicked tilt to his lips creasing the
edge of his scars. “Yes, Killer. Amongst the fae, it’s not
unusual to have more than one mate.”

My teeth snicked as I shut my mouth with a frown. Was he

saying that he was looking for another woman, too?

A vicious mix of anger and jealousy surged through me, a

brutal force that struck me with its intensity. I’d only just
fucked the guy, and he was already sniffing around for his next
mate. Even for me, that was a new record on shitty taste in
men.

I could feel the dark scowl twisting my features. My jaw

clenched hard enough to take a hit from a minotaur without
breaking.

Maybe I should stab him again.

 The snake chuckled, hooking his tail at the small of my back
and drawing me against his battle-hardened chest, despite the
slippery evidence of his enjoyment across my skin rubbing
against him.

His eyes were bright with mirth as he peered at me.

“Jealousy looks good on you, heartmate.”

“You’re about two seconds away from getting stabbed, pal.”

He grinned, showing just how unhinged he must be. “Such a

tease.” He tutted. “Keep flirting with me and I’ll have you
taking both my cocks at once.”

A dark curiosity tried to steal my focus.

Did he mean in the same hole? Or one in each?

Didn’t matter. Before I could issue another threat, he

swooped down and fused his lips to mine. I tried to bite him,
but he pulled back quickly with a chuckle.

“Lamias only have one heartmate,” he murmured against my

lips. “You’re all I need. All I want. There is nobody else for
me, Kelsea.”

His words went a long way to placate my surge of anger,

leaving confusion in its wake. “But you think I should go bang
some other dudes?” I frowned.

He reared back with a hiss, long fangs dripping cool venom

against my chest as his eyes flared.

I huffed, throwing my hands up. “Don’t get hissy with me,

Sunshine. You suggested it.”
 He seemed to visibly wrestle himself back under control,
clenching his elongated jaw for a long moment. “As a human,
you might have other fae destined to be yours. If you feel a
deep connection with another fae, you should explore it. I’m
not encouraging you to seek mindless pleasure in the arms of
another.”

“Aye, there’s the hissy snake I first met.” I giggled, bopping

him lightly on the nose.

He dipped back, blinking rapidly before huffing. He swatted

my hand as I tried to boop his nose again. “What are you
doing? Is this how you usually attack the enemy, Killer?”

“No, but it’s fun to watch my grouchy snake scrunch his

pretty face up.” I grinned, before addressing his heavy
comment with a shrug. “Look, I don’t know about any
connection with others, but I’ll keep it in mind. It’s not a thing
us humans usually do. At least not in Scotland, anyway.”

He reached out, stroking a hand along my cheek. “I’d never

want you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. I’m
just saying it’s an option.”

A boom reverberated through the cabin, shattering the gentle

moment into sharp fragments.
Chapter Eighteen
 Kelsea

R
attle spun, releasing his hold as he quaked his tail in
warning, hissing at the disturbance.

I yanked the hatchet from the wall, smoothly spinning to

face the intrusion, nudity be damned.

“You cannot take her. She is my mine!” he snarled, shifting

so he partially blocked me from view of the doorway.

My pulse raced, outpacing the relentless downpour,

hammering the cabin from the outside.

The most stunning fae I’d ever seen glided in through the
broken door. Water streamed down her hawkish features,
flattening her candyfloss pink hair to her cheeks. Sad silver
eyes locked onto Rattle.

“I’m sorry, old friend.”

“No!” he roared, lunging forward.

 Glass exploded as a flurry of colourful figures burst through
the windows, streaming into the tiny cabin. I covered my face
as best I could, feeling small shards lash my skin.

Rattle collided with the pink-haired fae, lashing his tail into
one of the intruders at the same time.

I stepped into the closest male, a burly goblin, swinging my

axe towards his chest. He blocked with a silver vambrace; the
metal clash swallowed by the howling storm.

“Kelsea, run!” Rattle yelled, before grunting as one of the

newcomers smashed their fist into his angular jaw.

“Never!” I dodged the punch aimed at my own face.

I couldn’t leave him behind.

With a fierce jab using the tip of the axe, blood poured down
the goblin’s cut cheek, sending him hissing back a few steps. I
snapped out a kick to his stomach, but arms banded my middle
before I could knock the fae out.

“Shua’than, stop! We’re not here to hurt you,” a reedy voice

yelled in my ear.

I threw an elbow back into the fae holding me. A masculine

grunt sounded as his hold loosened. I spun, swiping my axe
across the water nymph’s front. He screamed, falling back as
the tang of blood thickened in the air.

The candyfloss fae wrestled with Rattle’s tail as he forced

her back against the wall, shaking the cabin.
 “Anyone who touches my heartmate dies!” he hissed, raking
claws through a minotaur’s gut as he spun to snap his fangs at
another fae. “So fucking slowly.”

More leapt onto him, punching and kicking, clawing and

biting. He was drowning in enemies even as he dealt them
blow after lethal blow.

I had to do something.

Darting low, I grabbed my knife from the floor, but an ogre

smashed his wide palm into my wrist. My hand spasmed,
dropping the blade with a clatter. I twisted with a hiss of pain
as he reached for my throat, bringing my axe up to slice
through his meaty forearm.

“Behind you!” Rattle yelled.

I whirled aside, narrowly avoiding another set of claws

reaching for me. Something heavy knocked me to the ground.
The world stuttered as I blinked rapidly.

A weight crushed me to the floorboards, something biting

into my skin as I struggled to shove it off.

“Got her,” a high-pitched female shouted.

I managed to twist enough to see a fanged grin between

cherry red lips before her fist loomed in my periphery.

“I’ll come for you, Killer!” The familiar voice of my lamia

sounded. “Make them all bleed while you wait.”

His fierce words were the last thing I heard as the victorious
hunter’s fist connected with my forehead.
 The abyss reached up and swallowed me whole.

Instinct had me choking down a groan. Keeping my breathing

as even as possible, I waited for the fuzzy sensation in my
brain to pass as I shuffled towards consciousness.

I registered a mild chill at my back. I was lying on

something hard, but ticklish.

Sounds slowly filtered in next until I recognised the gentle

rustling of wind through leaves and the distant chirping of
crickets.

The scent of blackberries perfumed the air. I frowned,

wondering if I’d gotten drunk on too many pints of stout with
whiskey chasers and somehow ended up in the brambles
outside Thistle Cottage.

If so, I was going to be cut to ribbons trying to crawl out of

this mess.

Confirming nobody was nearby, I finally peeled open my

eyes.

“What in the name of Nessie?” I sucked in a shocked

lungful.

Glittering gaudily above me was a sea of gold.

Bright leaves fanned out over my prone form, high above.

Even in the darkness, their sparkle was unmistakable. I pushed
up to sitting, taking in my surroundings. Dark trunks, like the
blackest of ebony, contrasted the metallic canopy. The strange
black-gold trees swayed all around me, gently waving in the
breeze that tugged on my indigo hair, loose around my
shoulders. Grass tickled my palms as I heaved myself up.

“You’ve got to be yanking on my kilt.” I scoffed, pinching

the delicate lace hem of a floaty white gauze negligee, barely
covering my vagina. “Please let this be a whisky-induced
dream.”

But the sinking feeling in my gut wouldn’t let me cling to a

wilful ignorance.

The memory of Rattle’s desperate shouts hit me like a

physical blow to the gut. My heart constricted as I wondered
where he was. Whether he was ok.

He had to be ok.

Our story had only just begun. How could I not want to
explore the connection between us? That psycho lamia with
his sweet promises and venomous kisses.

One of the glowing leaves seemed to dip, but hung

suspended instead of obeying gravity and falling to the floor. I
blinked, realising it was an orb of light, rather than a piece of
nature. More bobbed through the trees as I scanned over them,
illuminating the small clearing I’d woken up in.

An eerie howl sang through the woods, silencing even the

chirping insects for a blood-curdling breath.

I couldn’t deny what logic was screaming at me.

I’d been fucking kidnapped.

To Faerie.
 Afterword

I’d just like to take a moment to thank you for reading this
saucy tale!

As an indie author, it would mean so much to me if you

could please leave a review. This helps other readers to find
my wild stories and take a chance on me so I can keep on
writing and working towards my dream of becoming an author
full-time (my day job is way too sensible for me!).

Kelsea’s story continues in Get Foxed (Monster Mate Hunt,

Book 2). This next instalment features Kelsea and her
adventures in Faerie. Oh, and since it’s a why-choose
romance, there’s a new love interest on the scene… a wicked
kitsune, with wings, a dark chuckle and stalker tendencies.

If you want more of the Mate Hunt universe, then sign up to

my newsletter at sakurablackbooks.com/subscribe for the
exclusive free novella – The Nymph’s Dark Pleasure – prequel
in the Fae Mate Hunt series. Warning: it’s pretty steamy!
 A little teaser…

A
crid whisky burned as it slid down my throat. I longed
for a smooth scotch or even an American bourbon, but
the cheap crap was all I had.

With a grimace, I took another swig, downing the rest of the

teensy bottle.

I coughed, thumping on my chest as the liquid went down

the wrong hole, searing my airways like I breathed fire.

“Yuck.” I ran my tongue over my teeth, feeling the booze’s

numbing haze set in.

I plonked the little bottle down alongside the others, a neat

row of judgement lining up on the stained carpet in front of the
humming mini fridge. The cloying scents of must and old
cigarette smoke replaced the sharp alcohol, but I was beyond
caring.

Pushing unsteadily to my feet, I shuffled over to the flat-

pack table I’d dragged to the middle of the room earlier. I
avoided looking directly at the objects it held though. I still
wasn’t quite ready.

I longed for another shot, or two, but with the room’s mini-
bar empty, I was out of options.

I was also out of time.

Maybe it was paranoia, but I swore I could feel the hunters

closing in on the run-down hotel I’d holed up in. I’d spent the
last of my cash—the emergency fifty-pound note I’d clung to
even when my stomach had rumbled, even when the rain had
soaked through to my bones and warmth felt like a distant
memory—just to get this crappy room. Chances were I
wouldn’t be needing more after this, anyway.

Hard to spend money when you were dead.

I took a deep breath, twisted my mother’s ring around my

finger for luck, then reached for the knife.

The worn wooden handle was smooth against my palm. I

gripped it tight, ignoring the trembling in my hand as I brought
the blade to my flesh.

“Just fucking do it,” I whispered, but everything in me

rebelled on instinct.

Or maybe it was logic that held me back.

Indecision waged war inside me as I hovered on the

precipice. If I did this, there was no turning back.

An unearthly howl pierced the night. The hauntingly familiar

song shoved me over the edge.
 My palm stung as I dug the steak knife in. It bit deep into my
flesh despite the blunt tip. Blood welled, shockingly bright
under the buzzing strip light.

A muffled bang sounded nearby, like a door bouncing off a

wall.

“Split up. The tracker is boiling hot. The demon whore is

close.” A male voice slithered through the paper-thin walls,
like he was barely a few doors down the corridor.

I’d requested a first-floor room so I could jump out of the

window to escape, but maybe that hadn’t been the smartest
idea.

My heart thundered, kicking at my ribs as if protesting what

I was about to do.

“Forgive me,” I muttered, unsure who I was seeking

absolution from. Hell, I’d take the blessing from a Teenage
Mutant Ninja Turtle right now.

The knife clattered as I dropped it back onto the varnished

surface, reaching for the other item I’d stolen earlier tonight.

With another bracing inhale, I upended the salt shaker. White

grains hit the blood pooling in my palm, burning my open cut
as they melted into me.

I hissed at the sting, trying to wrench my thoughts under

control.

A thumping sounded, like a fist against a door. “Open up!

Police,” a man yelled.
 He was already too close, but it wasn’t my room he pounded
on. Yet.

The alcohol’s slight detachment helped dull the sharp edge

of fear and let me brush aside the small voice of reason
begging me to stop.

I sucked in a deep breath and shut my eyes. Focusing every

ounce of my magic and will, I channelled it into a single
thought.

“Blood demon, blood demon, blood demon,” I whispered

over and over. It was the only trade I could stomach. I didn’t
want to think about the other things a demon could ask for if I
called forth the wrong type.

Minutes passed as I continued my low chant.

A door creaked somewhere along the corridor. “What!?”

“Have you seen this woman? She’s a dangerous suspect in a

criminal investigation,” a male demanded.

“Nah, never seen her.” A nasal reply.

A door slammed.

“Blood demon, blood demon, blood demon,” I continued,

ignoring the vice of panic slowly squeezing tighter and tighter
as the pounding of a fist got just that little bit closer. The stark
raps rivalled the boom of my racing heartbeat.

The stinging pool in my hand warmed. Hotter and hotter

until it scalded like boiling water.
 My chant cut off in a hiss as I fought to keep the searing
blood cupped in my palm.

I gasped as the red liquid seemed to move and sway like a

tide pool, unnaturally strong despite my shaking hand
throbbing with pain.

The dingy lights flickered overhead.

Fear clawed my insides.

My heated blood spun upward like a vortex, growing until it

created a tornado of red. It funnelled from my palm, seeming
to suck power from me as it spun back down, hitting the carpet
with a wet splatter. The connection snapped, staggering me as
magic ricocheted through my chest.

The tornado collapsed in on itself, leaving a gory circle of

red.

Inside it lurked a monster.

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 About Author

Sakura Black is a writer of steamy fantasy and paranormal

romance, often dreaming up wild stories about frightfully
sweet monsters and the women they’re lucky enough to fall
horns over tail for.

For more saucy action head to sakurablackbooks.com

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