“Get her ready and bring her to Court for her collaring ceremony,” he said before he walked away with his black boots crushing the moss beneath his heavy weight.
Countless fingers gripped me and began to drag me away.
How did he splinter me apart like this?
I ignored the hands to check that my child was still in my womb. The gentle scrape inside of me made me sigh in relief. The Fae used all sorts of magic. I turned to the closest fairy to me.
“What is a collaring ceremony?”
The little blonde-haired fairy grimaced. “All the King’s consorts are publicly collared at Court.”
There was more, but when I looked at her, she avoided my eyes. This was the Unseelie Court, full of dark, dangerous and malicious beings. My shoulders sagged as the fairies dragged me away. I didn't miss the goblins and trolls that followed us. They were obviously the muscle to keep me in line.
The fairies scrubbed me raw, their tiny hands like scrubbing brushes against my skin. The water smelled too sweet, like crushed petals and something underneath that I couldn't place. They combed my hair until it shone like fire, weaving in leaves and flowers that writhed against my scalp.
Then they held up the “dress.”
An emerald robe, thin as cobwebs, with a golden tie meant to sit just above my swollen belly. It draped over my arms and back like a joke, leaving my breasts and stomach completely bare.
“Where’s the rest of it?” I demanded.
The dark-haired fairy giggled.“That is the dress.”
Of course, it was.
The King was a fucking asshole.
???
I kept my eyes straight, focusing on the wall of weapons to ignore the crowds of beings that grew silent as I walked through the Court. The guards gripped my wrists as I approached the King's throne.
“Present the King's new pet,” a voice sang out.
Hands shoved me to my knees. Cold air kissed my exposed skin as I knelt before him. The King rose from his throne of intertwined antlers, a braided circlet of black thorns glistening in his hands. Each barb oozed a venom that smoked where it dripped onto the floor.
“Kneel properly,” he commanded.
The magic hit me like a whip. My spine bent without my consent, thighs splaying obscenely wide as my head tipped back, offering my throat to him. It was an unfair fight, and I could do nothing about it.
Alvar's claws traced my jugular as he fitted the collar—the thorns pierced with deliberate slowness, each puncture a pop of fire in my veins. Blood welled, tracing hot paths down my chest.
“Look at them,” he breathed, forcing my chin up. “See how they hunger for you?”
Hundreds of eyes watched. Some hungry, most mocking. A troll's tongue swiped over cracked lips. A Fae woman cupped her own breasts, mouthing “Milk for the Prince” as she grinned.
Then Alvar licked the blood from my collarbone, his tongue forked and left my skin burning.
“Mine,” he purred loud enough for the rafters to hear.
The collar sprouted new thorns, curling inward to prick my windpipe. I choked, but the venom turned my gasp into a shuddering moan.
The Court erupted in cheers.
In amongst all the chaos, I felt the baby move.
“The baby,” I rasped.
He crouched down until I stared at his bare chest. His claws pushed my hair before trailing them from my neck to my belly.
