A Kingdom of Pleasure and Torment (Fablemere Fae #1) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Fablemere Fae Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
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The goblets are full to the brim, and the Gwragedd Annwn move through the gaps between the stone. Courtiers fall into line, awaiting their turn to drink from the vessels.

One by one, I watch as they swallow the living essence, then vanish. A priestess approaches our royal cluster, and Arcus withdraws from my body, depositing me on my feet. I shift my toes through the leaf litter on the forest floor, my sex throbbing; I was so close when the drums stopped.

“You should go first,” Arcus says. “I’ll be along after. Be sure to give me a good chase.”

I don’t know what that means, but I step forward and let the Gwragedd Annwn press the rim of the goblet to my lips. I take a swallow, and the clearing is gone.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I have vanished. To where, I don’t know.

I’m in near total darkness, the faint blue light of a few scattered will-o’-the-wisps all I have to examine my surroundings. There is no night sky. One of the small blue orbs drifts upward and I see that I am in a tunnel. The ceiling is woven branches. The light dips and weaves. The walls are branches, too, twisted and black.

I walk forward a few steps, my hands in front of me. Eventually, when I’ve covered enough ground, I encounter another wall impeding my path. I turn and retreat.

Somewhere, something roars. Someone giggles. Both sounds echo through the air, which has grown chill and damp.

A slight breeze turns my head. Arms out to protect me, I seek the source and find an egress into another tunnel.

It’s a labyrinth.

A scream shatters the quiet, and the hairs on my neck raise. “Be sure to give me a good chase,” the king had told me. Something sighs further down this tunnel. As I come closer, slowly, trying to keep my footfalls silent, I hear the unmistakable grunting and panting of coupling. It’s possible I’ll trip over whoever it is if I keep going forward, so when I find another turn, I take it.

There are more will-o-the-wisps here, but the light is still too weak for my human eyes to rely upon it, and the darkness terrifies me. For every moan and peal of laughter, there is a scream of sheer terror. Never before has the court’s name so frightened me. Will I find pleasure here, or torment?

There’s movement behind me. I sense it, hear it over the pounding of my pulse, the ragged breaths tearing from my chest.

Is it worse to see the thing that’s pursuing you? Is it better to know why you should be running? I cannot say, but I look over my shoulder, trembling.

The wisps glide about in their looping dance, and I see the outline of broad shoulders, a bare chest.

The mask of an owl.

I take a few steps back as he advances. “I-I’m meant to be caught by your father.”

Kathras says nothing.

I keep backing up. “He’ll be angry with me,” I try again.

Kathras never slows his determined steps.

Two wisps circle each other at the end of the tunnel, enough to show me in their dim blue light that there’s a juncture there. I don’t need Kathras for my plan. I need to be caught by either Cassan or Arcus.

I break into a run, arms pumping, feet pounding the hard-packed dirt. I’m nearly at the junction when I make a foolish mistake.

I look back.

Kathras is running after me, he’s nearly upon me, and my momentary curiosity is my undoing. My foot catches a root and I tumble to the ground. A hand closes around my ankle and jerks me back. I claw forward, sinking my fingers into the dirt and pulling with all my futile might. But he’s impossibly strong. My flimsy excuse for robes tear. He grabs me by the hips and hauls me up to meet his, ramming his cock deep into me.

I shriek in surprise; he’s shockingly large and long, and he has no plan to be gentle. His grip is crushing, his thrusts punishing. I try to push myself up and he shoves me down again, one hand holding my cheek in the dirt.

He says nothing. Makes no sound at all while I gasp for breath under the onslaught of this debasement. I knew I would be called upon to perform all manner of depravity at court, but the darkness, the violence of it, the inability to escape all wind together into a brutal nightmare.

A voice faraway howls in outrage. Someone else pleads. Another cries out in the throes of ecstasy.

Yet, Kathras is unnervingly silent. The slap of his hips against my ass, the wet squelch as he fucks my already used cunt, and the moans I try to keep silent are the only sound. Soon, I don’t bother to keep them silent; I wriggle my hand beneath me and find my clit, rubbing frantically.


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