A Court of Blood and Desire

A Court of Blood and Desire Olivia Faye Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Olivia Faye All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Olivia Faye at [email protected] The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Book Cover by Angel Leya CoversEdited by Jae AtalFormatting by Olivia Faye 1 edition 2023 Contents Author's Note 1. Kessia 2. Kessia 3. Merek 4. Kessia 5. Merek 6. Merek 7. Merek 8. Kessia 9. Kessia 10. Merek 11. Kessia 12. Merek 13. Merek 14. Kessia 15. Kessia 16. Kessia 17. Kessia 18. Kessia 19. Kessia 20. Kessia 21. Kessia Coming Summer 2023 Bound to the King Also By Acknowledgments About Author Author's Note This book is a dark, gritty, steamy fantasy romance that is not suited for readers under 18+. It is a high-heat medium burn with explicit sexual content. Themes included are physical abuse, degradation, rape, abortion, miscarriage, kidnapping, mutilation ala magic, enslavement, assassination, and attempted murder. If any of these are triggering or not to your taste please pass this book over. 1 Kessia A Month after the Summer Solstice I glared at the stone wall, ignoring the muttered curses and scoldings spewed towards my blood covered back. Fuck you, King Berinon. You can die. The royals are monsters. Every one of you needs to die. Even Father." “Uncle please,” I couldn’t hide my wince and the quaver in my voice. Black spots danced before my eyes, my ribcage shaking. “Disrespectful, lying bitch! You’re an irrhunfen. A halfbreed slave born to carry on the royal line. Your role is to please us in any way we see fit. If Kerim hadn’t insisted you be raised like a highborn, learning magic, treated like a fucking princess rather than the inferior halfbreed chattel you are, you wouldn't have sullied the royal name before the other Fae Royals. You are the embodiment of why the half-bloods need to die. You have no other use than to carry on the Fae magic—nothing more!” My breath caught, the cry stuck in my throat. Thick waist length hair stuck to my skin, dripping with blood and sweat. My naked body glistening with sweat and blood as silent tears stream from my eyes. Blood pooled in my mouth, my lips chapped and raw from where my sharp fangs tore at the fragile skin. Fire blazed over my back; my skin split under the heavy crack of the cat o’ nine tails the dark faw King grasped in his hands. Burst blisters and clear fluid slickened my hands, my fingers burned red and numb as I grasped the chains, and the half-inch thick manacles cut into my wrists. The runes glowed; the sigils mocked me. I couldn't use my magic, couldn’t fight or escape. My muscles tensed in anticipation of the next blow, magic pulsed cold as ice through my veins. Fire licked my muscles. My wings thrashed; every instinct demanded I fly away. I flinched at the cracking sound; the force sent me towards the wall, and my back arched, wings battering against my body. The edges of my wings beribboned my arms and raked the rough stone wall, causing blood to seep from the edges. The blood-drenched whip cut into my flesh. My skin crawled, my muscles throbbed hot as magic seeped into my body, cut through the sinew and penetrated my bone. My arms were overextended, strained and stretched; searing with exertion as I struggled to hold my grip. My shoulder was almost wrenched out of socket as my hold on the chains slipped. Blood and clear fluid trailed down my forearms, dripped onto me. It would take days to heal, if it could be healed at all. I'll fall behind in my guard training if I’m released from here. I bit my cheek, and swallowed the fresh blood that filled my mouth. Icy heat consumed me, my veins singing with adrenaline and the need to kill. I won't scream. Before today, I tuned out the distant screams of the other slaves when the King’s guards tortured them. My father was the King’s younger brother and the mage who protected our home and the kingdom. There's no way it would happen to me. Some were maimed. Others…killed. As the half-human daughter of the king's younger brother and the King's Guard, there was nothing I could do. Taeral refused. 'They need to learn their place, Aria. Anything except pure obedience deserves punishment.' For years I naively believed he simply did not want to anger his father yet the monster laughed when I accused him and stood by in silence when the guards led me away. His face was dispassionate and contorted with rage and confusion in his silver eyes. His reaction was contrary to the feverish lust that smiled at me, drunk with revelry, the week before. Of course, he was drunk when he insisted I accompany him and then locked the bedchamber door behind us, barring my escape. And after…. Bile scalded my throat. Even if my father schemed and manipulated the prince and the Court so I’d be Queen, Taeral treated me like a whore, and abused me in the same manner his father abused the poor female half-bloods he favored. His reactions the next day infuriated me, the blatant confusion, rage, his obtuse denial when I recoiled from his touch and then lashed out, unable to restrain my rage and indignation. I swallow. That was nothing compared to the fury I faced when I accused him before the High Fae King. 'Aria, this is absurd! You speak as if he is a demon!" Father scolded me. King Berinon tried to silence