ILLYRIA
Kore twisted restlessly on the hard floor of her family's cabin. The thin wooden walls rattled in the harsh Illyrian wind. The sound echoed through the mountain peaks of Ramiel, a savage lullaby that guided her into vivid dreams.
In her dream Kore stood in a darkened room, the vastness filled with shadows and stars and the blazing fire coming from the fireplace behind her. She felt the sweat running down her spine, the nightgown she wore was drenched through. Kore formed fists in the skirts of her nightcloth, the fabric as soft as a gentle river. Satin, the useless part of her brain breathed.
Shadows warped like snakes in the room. Kore shifted, her wings tucked tight into her back, towards the corner. Her breath caught in her throat as a High Fae male approached her. His pale face was hidden in the dark, but he seemed unbothered by the fact.
Kore noticed the unfamiliar twisting motion of her heart and the flutter of desire in her stomach as he came to her. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked at her bare feet, visible beneath the hem of her satin nightgown. She'd never worn anything as pretty or as delicate in her life, but the curves of her body were lush and her breasts heavy in the firelight.
The male placed a delicate finger under her chin, tilting up her face until her gaze met his. Kore sucked in a breath at the realization of who - and what - he was.
No, she'd never seen him before, but the Illyrian women she worked with gossiped like their livelihoods depended on it. The Illyrians, of course, had taken notice of him whenever he visited their villages and training camps. He was tall and young, and his beauty near perfect; with aromatic black hair and blue eyes so dark they flashed violet in certain lights. Those who looked upon him wondered. Who was he?
Kore knew his name. She looked into his violet eyes, the royal line of his nose, the arch in his cheekbones, those full lips. Aidoneus Rhysand, the High Lord of Night Court. His powers were unmatched; those who knew him called him righteous, and those who didn't called him cruel. A God in his own right.
And yet Kore's soul whispered to her of a different name; mate.
A string tightened her ribcage until she could sparsely breath, its golden threads woven carefully, they flowed from her own chest towards his, disappearing between shadows, and beneath flesh and blood and bone until they reached his ancient heart.
Kore gulped a much needed breath as the High Lord of the Night Court stepped closer. The flames leaped at her back and Kore moaned as their warmth caressed her wings.
Aidoneus' thumb traced the curve of her mouth, the skin of her cheek and the shell of her ear. She shivered as he explored the delicate line of her throat. She knew her pulse fluttered there. And she watched his mouth part as he felt the uneven melody beneath his fingertips.
Kore's breathing matched her mad pulse, and her breasts heaved. Kore let out a sigh at the tenderness she felt, a pain almost as sweet as pleasure, similar to the thrill of flying in the harsh Illyrian winds. Aidoneus' violet eyes flashed as he caught the movement.
"Do that again." He rasped, and his eyes held such hunger that for a single moment Kore wanted to run away. But she did not run, instead she stepped closer to this ungodly creature of the night. She pressed her delicate breasts against the soft fabric of his tunic, and felt the beating of his heart inside his strong chest. Kore leaned forward, her lips parted, and searching, if only she knew for what.
"Gods." Aidoneus breathed, "You shall be the death of me."
She shivered against him, her eyes heavy as he bunched the fabric of her thin dress under his fingertips. She could feel the hem of her skirts rising on her thighs, exposing her flesh in an intimate manner. His powerful leg pushed between her own, she shuddered in relief at the pressure. Her back arched against, her wings spreading slightly for balance.
Her fingers curiously ran over his broad shoulders, until they reached the soft strands of his ebony hair. She pulled it slightly and he stumbled into her, his calculated movements and grace abandoned
"Oh." She gasped at the feeling of his desire against her aching stomach.
YOU ARE READING
GOLDEN STRINGS
FanfictionKore had feared the Clipping since she was old enough to understand that it would one day be executed upon her person. She'd had countless nightmares about it; they were filled with blood and gore and pain. Such pain, that she woke up panting, compl...
