Vengeful pride demanded he fuck her like a dog and nip the back of her neck. It didn't make sense but he didn't argue. He dropped her thighs to shove her over the arm of his chair.

Her fine elven hair spilled down her face onto the torn seat. Back tense and arched, her plump ass perked up to nestle his cock, begging him to plunder her flesh.

The thought made his stones ache. He yanked up her skirts, exposing her silk-covered cheeks. He wanted to palm and squeeze them but urgency forced him to take hold of her panties. Oh, he was going to enjoy this. Every moan, every quiver of her perfect body, every electric pulse on his cock from her hybrid magic.

"That's it?" She turned and looked up at him, thin brows arched, glow fading. Breath huffed out from his grin. His hybrid virgin was in for a surprise. She laughed. "I meant the foreplay. That's it?"

Wrath hid the sting. "I'm a whore, remember? I don't need foreplay." But before he could rip her panties off, the door opened.

There, in its wake stood Phil.

Erick backed away from the girl. Earth, what had he done?

His oldest oath-brother, Eleanor's doting uncle, snorted in disgust and squeezed his eyes shut. Head turned from them, he spat curses and retreated to the hall.

"Wait, Phil. I'm sorry." Panicked that he'd lost his oath-brother's devotion and trust, Erick rushed to stop the door from slamming forever shut. It crushed his hand in the frame. Wincing, he pulled it back. "I should have accepted the nose plug. It was..."

Phil frantically tackled him back into the parlor and slammed the door behind them. "Stop. If her father finds out... You need to watch what you say where flapping mouths can hear you. Do this in the privacy of your quarters. I don't want to see. I don't want to know." Phil released him and straightened.

"You're not angry?"

The sandpapery creases of Phil's face had deepened into caverns. "Of course I'm angry. I don't want to see this. And Henry..." Phil gave a frustrated sigh.

"It won't happen again. I'll wear the nose plug." Erick hadn't meant to take it so far. It wasn't like him to act so basely. He'd just meant to scare her into silence.

Her perfume flooded through his senses just before she spun him about and kneed him in the groin.

His stones crushed against bone. Excruciating agony. Speechless. Burning heat pulsated through his veins as he slid to a crouch on the floor.

In the distance, he vaguely heard her hiss, "He hasn't changed."

"South wing," Erick grunted. "Put her deep in the south wing." He didn't ever want to see that fickle, self-righteous bitch again.

The door opened and crashed shut but Erick couldn't see it through the blur of pain. The erratic clicks of her heels in the hall disappeared among the march of her men and the hive-like hum of men's voices from the throne room.

Phil lifted Erick up and set him gingerly in his chair. "Be careful with her." The eerie tone didn't match the warning.

He had every right to threaten Erick but it didn't sound like a threat.

"You notice her guards didn't come running? They're only for show. More of a danger than a help to her. Henry keeps close tabs on them, with the plugs and the... cock rings." Phil whispered the last two words.

"What?" Erick laughed and immediately regretted it. Pain seized him with every movement. It didn't help that her perfume lingered and kept his swollen cock rigid.

Phil dropped a plastic ring on Erick's lap.

Even through blurred vision he could see the sharp spikes pointing inward. Why would a man willingly put his penis in that?

"If your intentions are less than honorable, Henry will kill you. Eleanor's the only blood he'll leave behind and he guards her like gold, locked away. But the girl does what she wants in his treasury and that's where the danger lies. You can't control her but if you treat her nicely, she'll behave."

"They've spoiled her." Rules and a heavy hand on her bare ass were what she needed. Earth, why hadn't he gone flaccid yet?

"She's the same as she's always been, just older." Phil handed him a handkerchief. "Clean yourself up before you go out there," he mumbled uncomfortably.

Erick felt his face for lipstick, though he hadn't kissed her. Phil cleared his throat and motioned lower.

A wet spot darkened the front of his pants. Shit. Was he bleeding? Had she kicked him that hard?

"You should thank her for lifting your curse. Elven magic." Awkwardly, Phil wriggled his fingers in the air and blushed before darting out of the room.

No, he hadn't come. Although he'd only come once in his twenty-five year lifespan, he clearly remembered it being much more noticeable. His bane had saved him from the schemes of unfaithful women.

Erick rubbed the spot. Warm and thick, it slicked his fingers with her intoxicating scent. He inhaled a deep drag and groaned. Earth, she'd been wet. He tasted her honey. Delectably sweet and rich. His cock jerked in desperation.

He could use a little pleasure for himself. He'd earned it. Erick unbuttoned his pants and his rod sprang free and proud. When he roughly gripped his cock, her honey electrified his skin. He moaned, imagining her tight pussy squeezing him. His whole body tensed at the thought of her beneath him. His hips gyrated into his honey-slicked fist. Her tingly magic spread deep beneath the veiny surface to pluck every nerve. Breath jagged, up and down his length he wrenched and shoved.

His ass lifted off the chair, body a rigid line, as the electric pulses raced and gathered. All at once, the tension exploded and lit his nerves ablaze. He howled as he emptied load after load of hot cream. It spewed over his fist and splattered on the convulsing muscles of his abs. Ecstasy. Sweet release.

He melted into his chair. Head thrown back, arms and legs splayed, he exhaled. The warmth of serenity blanketed him, a sensation he never thought he'd feel. For a brief moment, he was a whole man, missing pieces returned. Then realization set in.

Oh no.

Chapter Three.

December 21, 9544 AR

Valetta, Biston

Huddled in a ball on the courtyard bench, Eleanor shivered. She rubbed her arms and rocked, trying not to cry. Why had she let him touch her? She squeezed her eyes shut wishing she'd stopped him sooner. The rejection shouldn't hurt. She didn't love him anymore. She shouldn't want him.

It had felt good though, for a fleeting moment. The electricity of his grip, his hard bulge grinding up against her eager clit. Her drenched panties still clung to her unsatisfied cunt.

Years ago, she'd have given anything to fuck him in his bed and feel his strong hands grope her breasts. To lick his thin, masculine lips and touch his battle scars while he moaned her name. She'd have filled his mind with hers and the sparks between them would have ignited explosive ecstasy.

But he was broken, ever since the Duran War. He didn't see her. He didn't see the tiny hope that remained in their tattered nation. All he saw was what he'd lost. Women were just temporary, faceless distractions that kept him from repairing what remained.

Eleanor traced the chipped floral patterns of the molded bench with her shaking fingers. The elven design had lasted thousands of years but would crumble during Erick's short reign. The moron.

Deep beneath the nearly lifeless soil, elementals slept, waiting. She felt them turn over sometimes, late at night when everything was still and quiet. But they wouldn't wake to the dwindling population who suffered the threat of starvation. On elven land and in Gildon, elementals could be commanded with spells of elven kings' magic to burn, quake and bend nature but only with the collective energy of its populace or under the control of an extremely powerful hybrid, like Queen Ceres of Gildon. Eleanor didn't have the strength or spells.

Eleanor sniffled and rubbed her numb nose. Bitter Biston winters.

The door from the throne room opened and the threadbare curtains furled out. Uncle Phil struggled past the filthy fabric. Worries tangled in his mind, wrapped around his king. It was the same with her father.

He nearly tripped over the broken path, raised by the ancient roots of craggy, bare fruit trees. He mumbled something about chopping them down as he approached, probably to redirect her anger.

"You lied to me," she said, teeth chattering.

The old man didn't respond. Guilt hid his reasoning from her mind. He wrapped his arm around her and lifted her up onto her feet. Warmth seeped from him and she leaned into his embrace, trembling uncontrollably.

"Winter's come early this year," he warned.

"I have a few more days left." Before they'd lock her inside beside a fire.

He guided Eleanor into the throne room where women glared and men leered. Her guards pretended not to look at her. Thoughts swarmed her head. None hers. The irritating buzz of their lust and venom made her nauseous. If she could focus, if it weren't so cold, she could calm them to something else. But she couldn't spare the energy, not 'til spring. Earth, she couldn't stay here, not in winter. Why not shackle her in plastic for everyone to do what they would with her? It would be the same. Soon snow would fall and she would be helpless unless she drained someone's energy. Not a task people readily volunteered for.

Phil rubbed her shoulder but it didn't comfort her.

A man's scream from the parlor interrupted it all. Erick, that slut. "He's alone," Phil assured her, as if guessing her jealousy. "I don't care. He isn't mine."

Phil smiled and nodded but he clearly didn't believe her. "I don't."

The moron filled his bed with mortal women. Safe women who couldn't cast spells or bind him to them. It didn't matter that her parents kept her weak for him. He no doubt compared Eleanor to his demonic mother anyway.

Through the brick hallway, the buzzing faded to the usual low hum of her guards circled around her. "Where are we going?" This wasn't the way to her room. Uncle Phil wouldn't actually follow Erick's order to put her in the south wing, would he? She'd freeze there.

Phil's smile fell. "If you apologize to him, he'll..."

"For what? For not being a faceless distraction, for not being human or for saving his life?" No matter how wrong, they defended his every action. They were too gentle with him, afraid of shattering his fragile psyche.

"You know it isn't his fault. It isn't your fault either. Just unavoidable circumstance."

"Yeah, right." He didn't look fragile to her. He definitely didn't feel fragile. His iron grip and bulging pecs had easily hoisted her up. Oh and his granite-hard, thick cock... Earth, why couldn't she get the feel of him out her mind? She hated him.

"If you're nice to him, maybe he'll be nice to you."

"As long as it's convenient for him." She'd asked for Erick's help once. "I'd rather freeze."

"You can take my room. I'll sleep in the south wing. He won't know."

"No. I'll be fine." She'd just wear everything she owned.

"I almost forgot." Phil retrieved a small package from his coat pocket. Its crinkly paper fell away to reveal a small frame with a faded picture. He handed it to Eleanor. "From our trip to Gildon. Remember?"

Her eyes stared back at her from a young teen's face. She barely remembered ever being so gangly. Smile bright, she'd leaned against Erick. It had been so exciting, all the technology and magic, that she hadn't yet noticed how he'd changed. He glowered as if in hell.

His chestnut waves hadn't yet silvered at the temples. By thirty, he'd probably have a full head of silver, like some elves. Same ageless face-hard lines, thick jaw, lowered brow. Bandages bulged from his arm where she'd burned him.

"I can't." Eleanor tried to give the gift back but Phil wouldn't accept it.

He continued down the long hall ahead of her, sconces flickering and crackling from the draft. At the last door, Phil apologized. He shoved it open, dread on his face. "Meagan will be by to clean it for you."

Cobwebs hung from the corners. Thick dust covered the small dresser and bare bed. Her baggage hid what little floor space remained. No other furniture could fit in the small room. Servants' quarters.

"I've stayed in worse." She'd lived in a poor country village before her father won Erick the throne.

"After a good night's sleep, he'll be in a better mood, especially after what you did for him. Come to breakfast tomorrow. You'll see."

"I didn't do anything. That was all him," Eleanor groaned and slammed the door in her uncle's face. Oh, so gross. She didn't want to talk about that sort of thing with Uncle Phil.

Six other doors opened and closed in the hallway. Great. Only a stone's throw away. Too close. She'd hear their thoughts and dreams.

Footsteps stopped in front of her door. Incredibly frustrating. If the others wouldn't snitch to her father, she'd gladly use one of the firmly muscled guards to finish what Erick started. But she'd been nearly caught before by a jealous soldier. "Go away," she yelled.

The door opened anyway. Meagan stood there, buckets of cleaners at her sides, grin wide on her freckled face. "Did you see him?"

Eleanor scowled at her but Meagan didn't seem to notice.

The young maid sidestepped in and pushed the door closed with her foot. "So?" "He's scum."

"Oh, you can't still be mad at him."

Eleanor squinted at Meagan and plopped down on a bag. "What do you think?" "Poor baby. You didn't get to take boring old math classes."

"Architecture." The Biston University wouldn't let her in because she didn't have a phallus and Erick refused to help, agreeing with them that she'd be stealing a career from a man. She'd never asked him for anything else.

"You get to sit on your cushy little butt all day and pick out whichever man you want to dote on you. How do you get by?" Meagan dropped her buckets on the floor and dust flew up.

Eleanor coughed curses. "Men don't dote. They control. They demean. They use."

Meagan's almond-shaped eyes twinkled in that coy way of hers before she spun about to start dusting. The rag stirred up more dust than it captured. The irritating particles glowed in the fading sunlight from the tiny window. "Someone just needs to get laid." Meagan winked over her shoulder.

It had been a while but the consequences now outweighed the small chance for pleasure. "They'll marry me off for an alliance if I'm caught." That was the compromise between her parents. Eleanor could choose her fated mate and wait for him but if she fooled around and embarrassed her father, he'd marry her to a foreign king. She didn't want either. "Besides, they always come too soon anyway." Her hybrid pheromones stole their self control.

"His Majesty has some elven blood in him," Meagan crooned. A kinky dark curl slipped free from the scarf tying her hair back and she hastily shoved it back. "Maybe he could do something for you."

Eleanor huffed. "Like what? Dry hump me, then jack off? Or fuck me, then marry me off to someone else. Earth, I hate him." If only her clit didn't harden at the thought of his cock inside her. Her nipples beaded and she crossed her arms over chest to hide them.

"Uh-huh."

"I just want to leave." She flopped across her luggage. "If I could just get past the mountains, I'd be free." They always caught her before the summit, no matter how fast she rode. "Gildon University enrolls women. I could be two years away from my goal instead of two years behind. I could also take lessons from Gildon's queen. She offered. Can you imagine? She must know every spell there is. If I could just get there, I could be so much more than I am here. Free."

"Are you kidding? I'd give anything to be you here. Not to have to work myself to the bone everyday. Not to wash laundry at the river at five in the morning when it's icy cold. You don't know how good you have it."

"I'd trade you in a heartbeat. You get to do whatever you want and no one judges you for it. You can come and go whenever."