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Bound Page 3

by Sophie Oak


wife will make sure your mate has suitable clothing. My son has

ensured that your steed is stabled and well-fed. You will find your

saddle bags filled with everything you need for the journey. I am

pleased to serve my king.”

Beck was aware of the great sense of gratitude he felt for the small

gnome. Rhys’s family had once served the King of the Seelie Fae, and

Rhys and his family had preferred exile to serving Torin, the

Pretender. “I do not know how to thank you, old friend. If you ever

have need of a sword, I trust you will call on me.”

The gnome grinned. “I know who to call, but no one bothers us.

The deal we made with the Planeswalker clan protects us.”

Beck knew the deal well. The Planeswalkers came from a plane

many called Hell. They were a demonic clan and very mercenary, but

easily controlled with an ironclad contract. Demons could access all

planes and were great believers in contracts. Rhys and his tribe of ex-

patriots served as salesmen for the demons’ wares. The demon tribe

would gather items of interest. Rhys would sell them and take a cut. It

had worked well for both sides.

Beck finished the last of the food and took a deep breath. It felt

good to be full. Now he needed to take a nap. He had several hours

before he would fight. He just had to be sure of a couple of things

before he found a corner to curl up in. “I want my mate covered.”

He couldn’t stand the thought of her beautiful body on display.

She was his. He should be the only one to enjoy her loveliness.

Rhys frowned. “You know I cannot, Your Highness. The female

must be properly displayed. If the Planeswalker discovered I was

treating you differently, he would accuse me of breaking our

contract.”

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Beck didn’t like the answer, but he had to accept it. He’d had to

accept many unsavory truths since the day his world fell apart. “Do

the vamps know she’s here?”

“Yes,” came the quiet reply. “I had to inform the Vampire

Governments as well. I gave them very short notice, but fifteen have

already shown up. You know they can move very quickly when they

want to. You were the first to see her. I have to open her to public

view soon. I must have at least ten warriors in the tourney to see a

profit.”

“Well, you’ll have that if fifteen vampires are here. They’ll all

fight for her.” It was a sad coincidence of fate that bondmates were so

alluring to vampires. Since his uncle had closed the Seelie mounds to

all outsiders, it had become difficult to find a bondmate, and the

practice of vampires wooing faery bondmates had disappeared.

Luckily it wasn’t all vampires, just the ones of royal blood, who

required a woman like Meg as a mate. He had asked a vampire once

why they needed Fae bondmates to procreate. Beck had been told that

there was something about their blood that strengthened the vampire.

They called the women “consorts.” A vampire of royal blood could

form a psychic bond with the female, much as Beck intended to form

with Meg. “The vampires will fight. They will all lose.”

Rhys nodded his head. “Yes, sire, they will. I will make you a

deal. I will personally ensure that no one else is allowed physical

access to the bondmate. The other suitors will only be allowed to view

her. I will tell the other Fae that we’ve had an expert prove her ability

to bond. You are certain she can form the bond? The demon seemed

very sure. He said she glows to him, and that is how he knew.”

“I am certain,” Beck said, remembering how it felt to reach out to

her with his mind and have her respond. “The vampires say our

bondmates glow, as well. I can’t see it, but I feel her. She is perfect.”

“Perfect enough to form a true triad?” Rhys asked speculatively.

“You know what the legends say.”

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Beck laughed long and hard. He knew the legends. They were

ridiculous. They were stories to tell children at bedtime. The legend

claimed that one day, a pair of symbiotic twins would be born of royal

blood. They would form a triad with a mysterious bondmate, and she

would allow their true powers to flow. The intellectual half, who the

people called the philosopher king, would become a Green Man,

bringing prosperity to the tribes. The warrior king would gain the

strength of a Storm Lord. The threesome would usher in a time of

great joy for the Fae. It was a nice story, but Beck had stopped

believing in legends a long time before.

“Don’t pin your hopes on that, my friend. Meggie is just a

bondmate. She is beautiful and suits my purposes. She will save my

brother and balance us. I am not immune to the effects of not bonding

at a proper age. I feel it, too. Meg can reverse the effects.” He hoped

everyone wasn’t as prone to believing old stories as the gnome. “You

mentioned a deal? What is my end of this bargain?”

Rhys was every bit the savvy business man. “Please stay out of

sight of the others until the tourney. If they realize you are fighting for the female …”

Beck laughed. “They’ll turn tail and walk off.”

“But, if they pay their money first, we have a strict no refund

policy, Your Highness,” Rhys explained.

“Fine,” Beck said, covering a yawn. “I’ll stay out of sight. I need a

nap, anyway.”

Rhys stood and gestured to the room at the back of his office. “I

had a pallet made out for just such an occasion.” Beck stood as the

gnome frowned. “Your Highness, would you like for me to find a

female for you? To take care of your needs?”

Beck growled, but it was at himself. He was still hard as a rock.

“No. I can’t now. I’ve seen her, touched her. She is mine, and that

makes me hers. I’ll be fine.”

He pushed through the curtains and gratefully sank into the down

mattress on the floor. The curtains closed and Beck was alone. He

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heard Rhys exit the main section of the tent. Beck pulled his boots off,

thinking about the fact that he couldn’t take another female. It was as

his mother had promised him. Meg was his, and the thought of

another female was now repugnant to him. Beck laid back and

loosened his trousers. He smiled up at the canvas roof of the tent. But

the thought of her…

His hand closed around his swollen cock. He slowly pumped up

and down, thinking of her luscious tits and that pretty little mouth of

hers. She could spew some shrewish waste out of that mouth. Beck

decided whenever she said something he didn’t like, he would simply

have to find a way to shut her up.

His cock lengthened further. Beck brushed his thumb across the

swollen head. The small slit in the head of his dick was weeping.

Beck used the cream to facilitate his masturbation. He stroked from

the base to the head and back, taking his time. He wasn’t in a hurry.

While his hand worked his cock, his mind saw Meg. He couldn’t wait

>   to get her breasts in his hands again. He would palm them and gently

pinch her nipples until they were ready for his mouth. He would suck

those ripe berries until she begged him to move his mouth lower. He

would, in his own sweet time. He would learn her body. Once he had

her gorgeous body between him and Cian, she would know the true

meaning of pleasure.

Beck would make sure he was always in control. She was small,

and he didn’t want to hurt her. She wouldn’t be able to handle his

demanding nature, but he could please her all the same. Cian was

going to love her. It had been almost a year since they’d shared a

woman. Beck had been fucking a local woman from their village. She

was lovely, but Cian couldn’t stand her. He refused to have anything

to do with Liadan. Beck could admit that Liadan was a bit cold. She

was a demure and perfect Fae lady. That had never done it for Cian.

Cian liked a woman who gave him a bit of hell. There was no way he

would refuse their own sweet Meg. Cian was going to lose his mind

when he saw her.

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Beck felt his balls squeeze, and he picked up the pace. His breath

labored in and out of his chest. He squeezed his cock as it started to

swell. She was going to taste so good. That little snack he’d had

would be nothing compared to making a full meal of her. He would

love eating that sweet pussy. He would get his mouth on her, and he

wouldn’t let up until she begged and pleaded that she couldn’t take

another orgasm. Beck’s entire body flushed. He pounded away at his

cock. She would taste him, too, he promised himself, and sooner than

she could imagine. He just had to remember to treat her with the

gentle care a bondmate required.

He came, envisioning himself shoved halfway down her throat.

He came in hot spurts, covering his thighs in his own cum. It didn’t

matter. For the first time in a long time, he found it easy to sleep.

* * * *

Meg was shaking slightly as the gnome, and now she was pretty

damn sure it was a gnome, removed the collar from around her neck.

“Was that…?” Meg found it difficult to form the words. It was

ridiculous. It was stupid. It just might be real. “Holy shit, were those

men vampires?”

The gnome, who she thought was named Cara, laughed gently.

Her light blonde hair shook. She looked at her husband, the gnome

named Rhys, and said something in that other language they spoke

before turning back to Meg. “Aye, mistress, they are vampires, but

don’t worry none. We won’t let them bite you. They just want to see

what they will be fighting for.”

She put a hand on her hip and said something to her husband.

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Fine then, woman. Meg, my wife wants to

unchain you. We’re taking you to the arena where the tournament will

occur. You can watch one of two ways. I can keep you bound and

naked like that, or I can give you a robe and let you sit with us in the

stands.”

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“I think I’ll take the robe.” Meg wasn’t going to let this chance get

by her. The gnomes were small. One well-placed kick, and she would

be on her way.

Rhys’s eyes narrowed on her. “If you run, you should know that

one of them vampires will be on you before you can think to shout.

They’ll play by the rules as long as you do, but the minute you run,

they’ll chase you down. It’ll be a free for all.”

Meg thought about the fangs and the look of hunger in the

vampires’ eyes. She shivered. “I’ll stay close.”

At least she would be out of the chains and clothed. She wondered

where Beck was and if he’d changed his mind. He hadn’t been back

to see her, and it had been hours. No one else had been allowed to

touch her. When they tried, the gnomes explained that if they did not

follow protocol, they wouldn’t be allowed to fight. Meg didn’t ask

why Beck had been special.

Rhys allowed his wife to unchain her. Meg sighed as she began to

get circulation back into her wrists. “Where am I?”

“You really don’t know?” Cara asked with a look of sympathy on

her face.

Meg shook her head. For the first time, she tried to look at these

people as something other than her captors. If she was going to save

herself, she needed them. While she was chained, it had occurred to

her that if she were going to run, she should gather as much

intelligence as possible first.

Cara brought over a gossamer robe and handed it to her. It was

really more of a caftan, Meg decided as she pulled it over her head.

The fabric was the softest she had ever felt against her skin. Though it

was practically sheer, Meg felt it warming her skin.

The dress-like robe cut a deep V at the neck, showing off her

breasts. She tried to tug it closed, but it didn’t work. Cara moved in

behind her and expertly tied it in the back. The garment molded to her

curves. It was utterly unlike the shapeless clothes she preferred at

home. Her ex-husband, Michael, had always said she needed to lose

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Sophie Oak

twenty pounds and bleach her hair blonde. She’d never been willing

to go blonde. Her auburn hair was the only thing she truly liked about

her looks, but she’d tried to lose the weight. It hadn’t worked. Of

course, Beck hadn’t seemed to mind her weight.

“Bloody hell,” a fast-talking voice said from the background.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart. Seriously, you are one fucking

beautiful consort. Look at that glow. Are those tits real? No one has

real tits where I come from. Fucking plastic surgeons screw up

everything. Pretty soon we’ll all have plastic dicks, and what fun will

that be? Let me tell you something, babe, the day they come for my

cock and fangs is the day I leave my home plane forever.”

Meg’s eyes widened as she took in the slick-looking vampire.

Perfectly white fangs peeked from behind sensual lips, so there was

no denying what he was. She had landed in an all-out, go-for-broke,

freaky dream. Maybe she should start calling herself Alice because

apparently, she had fallen down a rabbit hole.

“Oh, no, Mr. Dellacourt,” Rhys was saying with a shake of his red

cap. “The tourney is about to begin. Her viewing is over. If you wish

to buy an entry, there is still time. However, her viewing is done.”

The vampire named Dellacourt shook his head. Strangely, the

vampires were the closest thing to a normal human she had seen, if

one forgave the fangs. His skin was light, almost alabaster, and his

green eyes were like emeralds. The vampire, as his fellow vamps had

been, was dressed in an elegant approximation of a business suit.

They wore somber, deeply colored jackets. The blacks and grays and

navies seemed almost luminous. Dellacourt was wearing black from

head to toe. He had on a sleekly cut jacket that reached his knees and

a matching vest. The only color he had on was a ruby red shirt that

peeked ou
t from under the vest. His trousers and loafers were

midnight-colored as well. Unlike Beck, the gnomes, and the other

men who had come to “view” her, the vampires seemed to have left

the feudal era behind.

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“Yes,” Dellacourt said slowly. “We need to talk about that, little

man. What would you say if I told you I could triple your business on

this sweet little piece of ass?”

Rhys sighed, and Meg decided that he and Dellacourt probably

had a long history, and not a lot of it was good. “I would say that the

day I start listening to a slick vampire salesman is the day my wife

should carve me up with a piece of wrought iron.”

Cara nodded somberly. “I have it all ready, too. The minute he

goes soft, I’m taking him out.”

Cara held out her small hand, and Meg placed hers there. The

little gnome started to lead her out into the sunlight. Dellacourt didn’t

miss a beat.

“Seriously, I can make this a very profitable venture for you,

Rhys.” Dellacourt followed them into the sunshine. There was a small

whirring sound. Meg gasped as sunglasses formed around the

vampire’s eyes. Dellacourt grinned down at her. “Nanites, babe.

Those are tiny computers, to the less technologically advanced. All of

our clothes and accessories have nanite tech in them. They are

intensely useful little fuckers. Of course, every now and then they

band together and try to take over the world. Hey, what’s progress

without the occasional apocalypse?” He turned back to Rhys. “Back

to my point, I just need a few hours. I’ll give you a half-million in

gold, and all you have to do is delay this tournament until, say, eight

o’clock.”

“That ain’t happening.” Rhys turned from the vampire and

continued walking.

Meg studied her surroundings as Cara led her into what looked

like a small marketplace. There were stalls with vendors hawking

their wares in odd languages. She had calmed down from her initial

rage and terror. Now she could concentrate on her surroundings.

The gnome had mentioned that she didn’t speak Gaelic. This was

the language that was spoken all around her now. It made sense in a

weird way. The creatures around her appeared to be straight out of