Fatal Alignment Ch. 01

He was distracted by the pain of the flames. Now was the time to strike.

Train like you fight, fight like you train. Uncle Amlen's words echoed like a whisper at her ear as she slipped seamlessly into the stranger's mind. Where her mother was all talons and claws, ripping into her consciousness during her training on the willow stone, Adrika was a rush of liquid. A waterfall, flooding the senses away until there was nothing but her, nothing but what she wanted someone to feel and think and do.

It should have been easy. After all, she'd gone up against some of the most powerful men in Prevaria and had made them beg for mercy before allowing her grip to falter. All of it was practice, all meant to strengthen her skill and defenses, but none of those men had been fabricating their surprise and terror at feeling her invade their will. She had even bested her own mother, the only other known Seeker left alive, a time or two.

It was anything but easy.

The cool liquid of her Green fell into a dark chasm where his mind should have been. The physical world mimicked the disaster taking place inside when his big hand rotated out of her grip and clamped down around her forearm instead. She felt something cold and hard wrap around her wrist. Simultaneously, a strong inner force slammed down and snapped shut with a suffocating finality.

Adrika screamed and thrashed, fighting against arms that had no give. Her nails dug into flesh that felt like stone, allowing her no purchase. Frantic, she groped around in deep, vacuous darkness for the Green she already knew had been stolen from her. Fury snaked through her veins when she heard him chuckle softly, and she doubled her efforts to free herself.

"Shhh, little monster," he cooed in her ear, his breath like ice across her feverish skin. "It's over now. It's all over."

"Fuck you!" she snarled, trying again unsuccessfully to tug her arm free of his iron grip. He laughed and made a low whistling sound. Adrika stilled when she saw the creature approach, its pinkish eyes trained on hers. It was the size of a horse, ferocious and lethal.

Just like it's master.

"Aren't you going to beg me to let you go?" he taunted, walking her forward even as she dug in her heels. "Promise me anything I want in exchange for your freedom?" His voice dropped as he lowered his head, his next words a threatening growl against the pounding pulse in her neck. "Tell me your beloved father will make me rich beyond my wildest dreams, if I only deliver you to him safely?"

She suppressed a shiver and gritted her teeth. "I don't beg," she hissed. "And I know who you are, Kill. You're not interested in gold or jewels. Whatever it is you want is not something I'd promise you willingly. I'll die before I ever give you anything."

"That's where your wrong, princess," he whispered, tapping the silver band she'd felt snap around her wrist earlier. "You've already given me everything I want." His hand moved up along her arm and settled around her neck, his grip a blatant threat she couldn't ignore. "Well. Not everything." He pulled her tighter against him, her back flush with his front, and she swallowed hard as the meaning of his implication became all too clear.

"Fuck. You." She said again, trying desperately to steady her voice. "You won't get away with this. Not alive."

He breathed a laugh, sending chills up her spine. "Careful now, little monster. Don't go making promises you don't intend to keep."

"You know who I am," she said, real fear lacing her veins as she tried again to reach for the Green, only to fall back into that same insidious void. "You know who my father is. He will come for me."

"I certainly hope so," he drawled, dragging the back of his knuckles across her jaw. He barked a command at the creature, the foreign word echoing strangely in her head. The beastly thing lowered itself to the ground in front of them, and she saw a strange kind of saddle on its back. Without warning, he released her, thrusting her forward toward the crouching giant. "Up you go, princess."

Was he fucking stupid?

Without hesitating, she turned and jumped, a growled curse following her into the chilled lake. The frigid waters met with her scorched skin as she broke through the surface, her toned limbs dragging her deeper. She was a strong swimmer, and she and Patrick were the only ones who dared to brave the icy Autumn depths. If she could just get to the island...

A paralyzing numbness began in her right hand below the bracelet, her fingers frozen in place, and slowly spread up her arm and through the rest of her body. She struggled to raise impossibly heavy arms above her head or rotate her stiff torso to reach the surface, but a numbness that had nothing to do with the freezing temperature of the dark waters left her motionless. She exhaled, feeling her dark hair float across her cheek. Instead of panic, a serene sense of calm overcame her, and she even felt herself smiling.

She folds her legs under her body, leaning forward slightly to run a gentle finger through the silken feathers of the dead hawk between them on the willow stone.

"Try, Adrika," her mother tells her. She closes her eyes, letting the Green trickle through her hand and into the beautiful bird of prey, but it doesn't matter. The energy flowing through her and into the bird merely drops off into oblivion, like a waterfall without end. She frowns. "It's not working. Why can't I heal it?"

"Where is your Green going, Ri?"

"Nowhere. There's no soul there to take it."

"And why is that? Where did the soul go?"

Adrika shivers despite the warm afternoon sun. "I don't know. It's just... gone."

Her mother tsks. "Nothing is ever just gone, Ri. All things are balanced, in the end. Life can't exist without death."

Adrika frowns again. "But the Fae don't die."

"The Fae are ageless, not immortal. All things die. Not one creature in this world is immune to the laws of nature."

She hugs her arms to herself. "I'm afraid."

"Why, Ri? Why is death such a scary thing?"

"Because it's the end of everything." She gestures to the bird. "He'll never fly again. He'll never hunt, or eat, or feel the sunlight."

Her mother smiles sadly. "No, he won't. But his body will return to the earth. It will turn to soil and feed new life. Look at him, Adrika. Do you see the marks on his beak? The scar on his belly? He returns his soul to the universe with a powerful story."

Her eyes are drawn to the small, silvery marks that peek out from her mother's shoulders, the ones she has seen slashed across her back, and knows better than to ask what story her mother's soul will return to the universe with.

She knows there are worse things than death.

Unable to move, Adrika drifted, slowly floating away from everything, as icy water filled her lungs. A hand closed over the back of her neck, another fisting her shirt. Just before she was hoisted from the water, a thick curtain fell over her eyes, and she let go.

...............................

Fuck. Fuck!

He'd expected at least some resistance from the unconscious halfling in his arms, but he had not been prepared for the fucking insanity she obviously suffered from. She was quick, and fierce, and determined. Stubborn. Fiery. Much more powerful than he'd anticipated.

And absolutely fucking crazy.

He laid her out on the rocky ground and rested a hand on her forehead. Her little body responded to his own inca, and she warmed under his touch. He called to the water swimming in her lungs, and she sputtered and coughed as it forced itself out. He turned her on her side, glowering at her limp form. That she'd shown such tenacity as to throw herself into the freezing as fuck water was infuriating. This would have been so much easier if she'd been the boring, docile little bitch he'd been expecting when he first began this crusade.

He took back everything he'd thought about her spunk when he first saw her.

He rolled her onto her back again and sat back, resting his arms on his knees, grunting at the pain on his side. The little monster had sliced him with that fucking dagger of her mother's. The cut wasn't deep, but it was a nuisance. He was spent from the effort it took to contain her and then revive her. He'd have to get Eoin to heal it for him. And where the fuck was Eoin, anyways?

As if on cue, a rustling came from the tree line at his side, and another Mortolf emerged, a slender but muscular figure straddling its spiny back.

"About fucking time," he growled.

Eoin chuckled, his clear blue eyes raking over the girl's placid form, pausing at the swell of her chest. Her wet shirt left very little to the imagination, her perky little nipples hardened from the cold rising and falling with her even breaths. Killian had an unexpected urge to punch in his Second's teeth.

"Looks like you've had your hands full," Eoin grinned.

"She's a little fucking monster," he agreed. "Get over here. I need you to mend this for me." Killian gestured at the wound on his side.

Eoin gaped at it in disbelief. "Jesus, Kill. You got beat up by a girl?"

"Shut the fuck up," he growled. "Just heal it."

Eoin chuckled again and dismounted, sauntering over to where they were both sprawled out on the rocky shore. "Her entourage is out of the way, but we should get going." Eoin talked as he placed his hands over the gash, mending torn flesh in a painful process. Killian grunted in response, gritting his teeth.

"And the boy?" A flash of annoyance plagued him at the thought of the halfling's little crush. He was reconsidering his decision to let the little shit live. He knew what Patrick had been planning to do with her today, and she'd been all too ready to accept his affections. It didn't matter. She belonged to him now.

But not for long.

He shook off the thought, and the sinking feeling in his gut that came with it. He brought up the faces of the lost ones he was doing this for. The faces that, by the end, were broken and empty. The people who were dead far before their bodies caught up to it.

Vengeance. Justice. Revenge.

Venlen had taken everything from him. It was time to return the favor.

Killian realized that Eoin had been speaking to him as his thoughts had wandered off. "What?"

Eoin shook his head in exasperation. "I said, I've got a few men on him, but I fixed his recall. He shouldn't be a problem. He remembers nothing."

Killian nodded absently, his focus drawn to the rise and fall of the little monster's chest. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead, relishing the feel of her silken skin. Like dark honey.

"Kill." Eoin's severe voice brought him back to the present. The look on his face was wary and disapproving. His Second knew well the reasons for their mission. He deserved to see justice served just as much as Killian did.

"Let's go, then." He knelt next to her, lifting her up as he climbed to his feet. Her head lolled to the side, resting on his chest. His eyes were drawn to her full lips, pale from the cold. They were slightly parted, and he could feel her warm breath though the fabric of his shirt. He hated that he wanted to take her lower lip between his teeth, hated that he wanted to see if she tasted like the dark honey of her skin. He was hard as fuck, his cock pressing painfully against his leather pants.

Cursing under his breath, he stepped up to his Mortolf and hoisted her over the riding seat with more force than was necessary. Her limbs dangled limply as he tied her down and then climbed up behind her. He'd keep her asleep until they camped for the night. She would be in pain from the ride, but that was okay.

It would only be the beginning.

................................

Adrika's eyes fluttered open, the savory scent of cooked root vegetables and meat pulling her into consciousness. She smiled and stretched her arms over her head. Sonya must be visiting, making some of her delectable soup for them. Her stomach growled at the scent. When was the last time she had eaten?

Her fingers found an unfamiliar silver band around her right wrist. What was...

Everything came back to her in a rush, pummeling her like an avalanche. She jackknifed into a sitting position, her head spinning a little with the sudden movement. She reached for the Green, but it was gone, dropped into that blank void that she couldn't follow. Her eyes darted across the small clearing where she sat, the fire in the middle obscuring the two dark figures beyond the smoke. She could feel their eyes on her, watching, appraising. A strange sense of déjà vu came over her. She had never been in this situation before; trapped, defenseless, being taken away to a distant land by a tenebrous stranger. But she had glimpsed this scene before. One of the memories and thoughts she had fallen into accidentally.

She shook her head as if to clear it. She took a quick inventory of her body, noting a dull, sore pain in her abdomen. Her clothes were still intact, and there was no ache between her legs. At least they hadn't done... that... while she had been unconscious. She wasn't tied up, so they weren't afraid of her running off. She remembered how the bracelet had rendered her motionless while she had been underwater. Could it control her that easily? More importantly, how was he controlling her that easily? What was the bracelet doing? And how could she get it off?

Irritating silver chain around her wrist or not, he was a fool to think she wouldn't at least try to run. And she was fast. She was sure she could outrun them. She had to try.

The larger figure moved around the modest fire as she climbed to her feet, the formidable Prince Killian stepping into view. His strange, lavender eyes were almost glowing as he glowered at her. She smirked. "What's the matter, Kill? Are you afraid of a little halfling girl?" She raised her wrist and gestured to the bracelet. "You can't fight me without tethering my Green?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Your Green?" His voice was low and gravely and raw did something strange to her belly. She pressed her lips together, not caring to explain. She didn't want him knowing more about what she was capable of, in case she was able to get the cursed piece of metal off.

"Ah," he grunted. "Your inca. And you are more than just a little halfling girl. Seeker blood runs through your veins. I'd prefer not to be mind-fucked by you on the way back home." He took a step toward her. Her eyes darted to the side, estimating the distance she'd have to put between them before they might lose her in the thick of the forest. A mile, maybe two. It was doable. Perhaps useless, with the bracelet, but submission was out of the question. She'd fight until she was free or dead.

"I know what you're thinking, little monster. It would be a mistake to run from me. You should know; I won't be as forgiving this time." He took another step toward her, and she crouched slightly, taking a step back.

She scoffed. "Forgiving. Is that a joke? You nearly drowned me!" He winced, and she saw something flash across his eyes that disappeared behind a stoic expression just as quickly as it had come. Was that... Regret? No. He was a heartless barbarian, incapable of such human emotions.

"You will stay put," he growled, taking another step closer. She matched his movement with a step back. "Fuck you," she snarled. She instinctively reached for the dagger that wasn't there. Fuck.

Again, he took a step forward, and now he was almost within arms-reach. She took that as her cue to clear out.

She turned, her legs primed to flee, and crashed right into a hard chest.

Well, shit.

She hadn't even heard the second figure approach. He was tall, not quite as tall as Killian, but close. His clear blue eyes glared down at her with a hatred she didn't understand, his lips pressed into a straight line. He grabbed her wrists, smirking when she tried unsuccessfully to yank herself out of his grip, and backed her up until she was pressed against Killian.

"You're not going anywhere, Princess," the new guy sneered. She was sandwiched between the two men. Killian's arm snaked around her waist, his other hand wrapping around her throat. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and it was all she could hear. The new man, she decided to call him Blue, transferred her wrists to one hand and fisted her hair, forcing her to look up at him. He glared down at her, his lip curling up in an angry snarl.

"Then again," he smirked, "maybe you should try to run." His fist tightened in her hair, and she yelped. Killian's hand fell away, his arm landing across her chest instead. "I'd love to have an excuse to teach you a lesson," Blue continued. His hand gripped even tighter. He was going to rip out her hair. Tears sprung to her eyes.

"Enough." The growled word hung in the air between the two men, heavy and absolute. Blue held on for a moment more, then released her, shoving her head back until it pressed into Killian's ridiculously hard pecs. Not for the first time, she cursed her short height, her Seeker blood somehow stunting her growth.

Blue stormed away, rage rolling off him in waves. "Jesus," she breathed. "What the fuck is his problem?"

The question was rhetorical, but Killian spun her around and walked her backwards with a grip on her throat until her back was pressed against the rough bark of a towering pine. She had that strange sense of déjà vu again.

"He deserves his rage, little monster. Next time you try to run, I won't stop him."

She swallowed hard. Why had Killian stopped him? And why had his grip on her changed into something that felt like a grazing stroke? His fingers trailed down her neck, his lavender eyes following as he reached the hollow of her throat and kept dropping. Her nipples pebbled beneath his searing gaze, and he smirked. She felt heat rise up her neck and color her cheeks. His head dipped down, his lips so close she could smell the sweet spice on his breath, a mix of cinnamon and ginger. A low growl rumbled through his chest, making her belly flip unnervingly.

He suddenly stepped back, his hungry eyes morphing back into what she was coming to recognize as his signature glower. "There's food and water. Eat. We have a long ride tomorrow, and you will need it." He moved away, back around the fire. She stood stunned for a moment before walking over to the delicious smelling stew, scooping up a serving into a rudimentary wooden bowl that sat beside the pot.

She could feel his eyes on her the entire time she ate. A bedroll sat propped up against a nearby tree, and she moved away from the fire, into the shadows, before laying it out. She was suddenly incredibly tired.

Yawning, she curled up into herself, her lack of a blanket or pillow doing nothing to deter sleep from scooping her up into oblivion.

.......................

He watched her long after she had fallen asleep, her little body folded into the fetal position. She looked so vulnerable like this, without her snarky attitude and sharp tongue. He'd wanted to taste that tongue. He'd come so close to crushing his lips against hers. She felt safer in the shadows, away from him.

She was probably right.

He got up and stalked away from the fire, walking deeper into the trees, away from his surly Second and his little halfling captive. When he was far enough away, he pulled down his leather riding pants and fisted his cock. He was painfully aroused, and he couldn't think straight. He began stroking his hard length, imagining her full lips wrapped around him, her big doe eyes staring up at him, flecks of emerald swimming in dark pools of midnight. He braced himself against the smooth bark of a sycamore, his hand pumping faster as he thought of the little buds of her nipples peaking through her thin wet shirt. He'd wanted to peel that fabric away and take her into his mouth, making her keen and groan as he sucked and bit her sensitive, perfect skin.