Page 71 of Kiss the Filthiest King

A poison acting this fast, on something like her? It can only be faebane.

Loch is as shocked as I am, trembling as he watches her face turn blue.

"No one leaves," I snap, as my shadows stretch to engulf the room, blocking every exit. "I want every single guest interrogated."

Then my hands are on hers. I don't even attempt anything less. I directly transfer my own energy straight into her, draining myself of life to save this woman. Again.

Except things have changed since I last found myself in this situation. And a good thing, too. If Darina had just been fae, she'd be dead.

But I can feel the stone in place of her heart still beating.

The thing inside me under the surface is appalled. Yes, it wants her to suffer but not like this. Never like this. And certainly not by someone else's hand. No one has any right to take her from me. If someone throttles her, it’ll damn well be me.

"Why couldn't I be bound to someone of no importance? A low fae would have been nice," I grunt, feeling my hair grow past my shoulderagain."A puck. A pixie. Hells, I would have been blessed to take a troll rather than this dramatic magnet for danger."

I'm frustrated more than afraid. She will survive this. Shewill.

Valdred and Loch are on her, helping without being prompted.

"Don't bother," I tell them.

I'm no longer entirely a thing of flesh and bone. I've already given her twice the amount of energy that would have killed me days ago, and I still feel more.

"I don't need assistance this time. And she'll drain you much faster than she did a few days ago."

She already has. Both are pale, worn, with claws for nails and hair past their chests.

"I tried the wine," Loch says. "Right before coming in, I tried it."

"Junis's wife," Valdred says. "She was a distraction. Someone must have slipped the bane into the cup while we were paying attention to her."

I am immensely fascinated by the matter of the culprit, but for now, my priority is making sure Darinastops fucking dying.

I take stock of the potions at my belt, in my pockets and the hems of my clothes. Useless. None have any properties that can counteract faebane, the mixture brewed from the roots of faeblooms, with the property of draining the life of the folk.

It would have killed everyone in this room in an instant, but not her. Notus. The weak beats of the hard stone in her chest confirms that. So the question isn’t saving her life, it’s giving her the life force she’s lost.

The solution comes to me from inside, not my own at all.

Her fae body cannot take faebane. It's the opposite of the magic that makes us. It's destroying it from the inside out. But the thing I made her become isn't fae. The flesh is dying, then being remade, over and over in a loop.

She doesn't need energy; the All has plenty. She needslife.

"Find me whoever did this," I demand.

Then I'm pulling her skirts, opening my pants and shoving my cock right into her, though she's dry and I'm too soft.

I can't say this is a fantasy of mine. I prefer my partners lucid. At the very least, alive. But I don't pay attention to the way she's too still and unmoving, head lolling to one side. I fuck her hard and fast, ignoring the crowd, who seem far too amused.

I fuck her until I come, and keep fucking her again.

By now the court has turned this funeral into an orgy, those who aren't watching joining the fun by mounting each other. They don't understand what I could possibly be doing to a corpse, of course, but it's not in the nature of a fae to question something as entertaining as this.

It takes hours, or days, I don't know. I'm sweating and disgusting, as well as disgusted with myself. But at long, long last, I feel her legs tighten around me, her hands grasping my arms.

The first breath out of her mouth dizzies me. It's all I can do not to pass out. I roll onto my back and breathe in and out, my heart beating too fast.

I close my eyes, and it's Darina's turn to worry over me, bringing my head to her lap. "Ryther. Ryther, are you all right?"

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