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Naked and seething, Ronan made a desperate charge for the door, only to be met by a swarm of leering lesser fae. They had shredded his clothes and trapped him in a cramped, dank room that reeked of mold and decay, but that didn't stop him from fighting back. He slugged a few of the nasty buggers, their bones crushed by the metal of his fists, thwarting any attempts to pin him down."I didn't agree to this! Get Morgan now!" Ronan snarled at an especially hideous night troll, who merely displayed its beta teeth at him.In that moment of distraction, a goblin and a changeling pounced, their claws raking his flesh. The rest of the horde followed suit, their combined weight dragging him to the filthy floor."Get off me!"Ronan thrashed against their grip. He lunged to bite the goblin, but a vicious slap sent him reeling.Someone seized his hair, wrenching his head back. They were after his headband. Earlier, Morgan had warned him it wouldn't be allowed and hastily applied a camouflage patch to his forehead. The myth-tech spell on the patch concealed his prior pack mark—a mark that, if discovered, would mean certain death. In that excruciating moment, Ronan felt profoundly grateful for Morgan's foresight.Until a chilling realization struck him like a stone fist. Fuck. Morgan knew this would happen. What the actual fuck? He growled fiercely as the headband was torn away, the last shred of his dignity stolen. The fiends hoisted him up, hauling him towards the door like a beast bound for slaughter."I never agreed to this!" he shouted again, but his words were swallowed by the chaos of the fae.They carried him down a narrow, dimly lit corridor. The air pungent with the coppery tang of blood and acrid bite of sweat, making Ronan gag. His eyes darted to the flickering lights overhead, casting grotesque omens on the damp stone walls.The corridor spat them out onto a vast stage. Harsh spotlights momentarily blinded Ronan as a deafening roar erupted from the surrounding amphitheater. The crowd's collective fervor pressed down on him. Ronan's heart slammed against his ribs, as if seeking to break through and grant him a merciful death.
Fuck, what did he get himself into?
The cold, rough stone of an altar bit into Ronan's bare back as he was forced down and swiftly bound. Reinforced cuffs and steel cords yanked his limbs taut, exposing him to the jeering throng. Icy rain poured through gaps in the dilapidated theater roof. A frigid wind scoured his naked flesh, raising goosebumps as the full horror of his situation sank in.The entire Unseelie court would bear witness to whatever the fuck was going on. Ronan hunted for Morgan in the crowd, she would pay dearly for this.A night troll shuffled onto the stage, his age evident in his sparse white hair and cracked, broken horns jutting from his forehead. Cavernous wrinkles and faded scars littered his stocky, gray body. In his gnarled hands, he clutched a wooden staff adorned with luminescent metal accents, visible even under the harsh stage lights. The glint of moonlight silver ore hinted at a staff imbued with myth-tech, marking this troll as a mythic shaman. Ronan's gut twisted.The shaman paused before Ronan, cybernetic eyes scanning every inch of his body. The red glow of his pupils lingered on Ronan’s augmented arms and the implant visible above his groin. Straining against his restraints, he recoiling as much as possible from the repulsive creature's scrutiny.A vile grin split the shaman's tusked face, revealing his alpha fangs. He stepped closer, his trembling hand extending to press a crooked finger against Ronan's chest. "Sidhe, what a blessed offering." The shaman sighed, his eyes closing, as if savoring an unseen fragrance. "Your blood sings to me. It tells a tale of darkness and air, of time and death. It whispers 'Unseelie.' How fitting that the blood which once ruled will now pay the tithe."Ronan bared his teeth, "I never fucking agreed to any of this!"The troll mused, his raspy words tinged with glee. "Did you not come with the Morg of your own free will?"Ronan bit his tongue. Yes, he fucking did, but Morgan hadn't been forthcoming. She'd said she just needed a date for "some midnight feast" and a "silly night of revelry beneath the absent autumn moon."Not this. The frigid stone against his bare back, the air choked with the stench of decay and something else, something ancient and unsettling. He hadn't expected to be bound, a sacrificial offering on display for some lecherous old night troll to sniff and appraise like a prized slab of meat.The shaman nodded, a low hum vibrating in his chest. "Regardless, you are here now. The Morg has won great favor by bringing you. Unseelie sidhe blood is all but gone—beyond yourself, the Morg, and a small handful of others. It is so rare and precious. This will be a night to fill the scrolls.For a sidhe to return home, to offer himself freely..." His eyes glowed brighter, their red light pulsing with manic fervor. "It's a gift from the gods. Through your blood, they will speak to us tonight.""What—" Ronan's voice cracked, his throat dry. "What are you going to do to me?"The troll let out a delighted squeal as he backed away, clutching his staff for support. His knobbly fingers, adorned with numerous rings, tapped against the metal-wrapped wood. "It's been eons since I encountered a fae so woefully ignorant.”The shaman straightened, brushing off his withered leather coat. "The tithe demands the blood of innocence. Few meet such criteria. In ages past, our ancestors spilled human blood. When untouched humans became scarce, we turned to our own kin. Fairy sprites, spirits of decay and disease, of dying leaves and flesh-stripping worms. Night creatures, innocent in their purpose. Yet they, too, have perished." The shaman's voice trailed off, heavy with the weight of forgotten eras. "Such loss…”The shaman shifted his gaze back to Ronan, “Now, we take one willing, one of us who will become what is needed for the offering. That is you, sidhe."The shaman's red eyes bored into him, expectant, waiting for Ronan to object. Had his hands been free, Ronan would've shown the troll just how willing he truly was."So that's it, then? You're gonna to spell me innocent and kill me?" Ronan rattled his arms, the braided cords slapping against the altar.The shaman expression became contemplative, his eyes drifting over the still-screaming audience. "That is, indeed, the essence of being an offering. The nature of your sacrifice depends on the spell and the form the gods bestow upon you. If you wish to be spared, pray swiftly."Before Ronan could retort, the shaman's staff slammed against the stage with a resounding crack that echoed through the amphitheater, silencing the crowd. Raw magic rippled outward, pushing Ronan down onto the altar. The shaman turned to the hushed assembly, his voice amplified by a spell."Tonight," he intoned, each syllable resonating with gravitas, "on this most hallowed eve, our great troll king Caspian, of Night and Air, bestows a sacred offering upon his most loyal and deserving subjects. A tithe to honor your fealty and unwavering obedience. Let all fae, the Unseelie, those of Night, of Winter, of Autumn, be bound, be claimed, be owned.”The shaman turned to Ronan, his eyes blazing with an unholy light. "Let all gathered on this Samhain feast upon the flesh and blood of that which is most precious, most innocent, most sacred."His voice rose to a crescendo. "May our offering bless this contract and bestow upon us everlasting power, wealth, and life!"Words, guttural and archaic, crackled in the air. The crowd held its breath and Ronan watched with dread while the spell wove itself around him. Prisms of color, shimmering and ethereal, formed streams that entwined over every inch of his body. Ronan screamed as the magic seeped into his flesh, a searing pain devouring him atom by atom, cell by cell. Then, for a fleeting moment, there was nothing but blinding, white oblivion.The static nothingness was pure bliss. Ronan would have gladly drifted in that pearly void forever. But the gods had other plans.He resisted the pull of consciousness, clinging to his white abyss. But luck wasn't on his side. Reality dragged him back, kicking and screaming. And he came to, only to find himself trapped, folded tightly inside something soft and warm.Breathing was difficult, with his arms crossed over his chest and legs curled against his abdomen. Ronan attempted to stretch out, but his surroundings refused to yield. He managed to free one hand and pressed it against the confining wall. His fingers glided over countless silky threads, each shifting under his touch. A soft glow filtered through from the outside.Sinking his fingers deep into the threads, Ronan began to dig his way out. The material was thick, and soon he was using both hands to tear it apart. He breached the outside, and a rush of cool air hit him, spurring him on.Suddenly, a hand grabbed him, and Ronan nearly screamed. Morgan's voice called to him, "I've got you, Ronan. Merciful darkness, I thought you'd never wake."With Morgan's help, they tore a hole large enough for Ronan to squeeze through. Something, however, weighed him down. Morgan reached in, grasping his upper arms to assist. As his head and chest emerged, he became stuck again. Morgan leaned around to his back, widening the opening. That's when Ronan finally saw what trapped him—a cocoon.He tried to speak, but his tongue felt alien and unwieldy in his mouth. Only desperate, garbled sounds emerged. Morgan shushed him as she continued her efforts to free him. "We're almost there, Ronan. Your wings are caught, don't pull, or you'll tear them." Wings? What the fuck? Ronan tried to twist and look behind him, but he was too wedged to move. Frantically, he clawed at the front of the cocoon, stretching his legs inside for leverage. He needed to break free—now. Panic lanced through him, his breath coming in ragged pants.As Ronan thrashed, Morgan tried to seize his hands. When he kept jerking away, she took hold of his face firmly. "Ronan, stop," she implored. "I need you to calm down. Everything's going to be alright."Ronan blinked at her, releasing the cocoon to lightly grasp Morgan's arms. She appeared different to him now—a glow surrounded her that he'd never noticed before. Her black and silver hair cascaded in long, curling waves about her shoulders. Her silver eyes, wide with concern, caught his attention briefly before his gaze wandered to her pouty, black-painted mouth. Small tusks protruded from her bottom lip, and Ronan suddenly yearned to taste them, to run his tongue over their surface.Morgan pulled back but kept her hands on his face, her long nails grazing his sensitive ears. Ronan shivered violently with a purr. He was drawn back to the glow emanating from Morgan. Between her ebony, curved horns—extending from her forehead—shone an especially bright magical sphere. Mesmerized, Ronan reached out to touch it."Sweet decay, Ronan, snap out of it!" Morgan shook him, tapping her fingers on his cheek. With a startled gasp, Ronan jolted, the magical sphere above Morgan's head vanishing instantly.He tried to speak again. "Mor—what?" he slurred.“It’s the spell, you were transformed for the offering.”"Fooken betch," Ronan attempted to push Morgan away. Despite being slightly smaller than him, Morgan easily ensnared his arms."Do you want out?" Morgan asked, leaning closer to Ronan. Her delicate, light gray features bore a stern expression, more sidhe than troll. Something stirred in Ronan's core at the sight, his attraction to Morgan rearing its ugly head. Ronan flinched away from her, reminding himself that he detested alphas."Yus, get mey out." He found it easier to speak without using his tongue. He sounded ridiculous. Damn, if Loki saw him like this, he'd never let him live it down.Morgan stepped back and drew a knife from her boot. "Stay perfectly still," she said. "I don't want to accidentally nick you."As she came forward, Ronan grabbed the hand holding the knife, “Give mey.”“Ronan—”Ronan growled at the alpha, snatching the knife from her hand. The blade was barely long enough to slice through the cocoon's thick layers. The threads were tough, forcing Ronan to saw vigorously. He sensed Morgan's judgmental gaze, but channeled his rage and frustration into freeing himself. Even with his augmented metal arms, it was taxing work. After cutting through enough, he was about to yank his legs free when he froze.His heart pounded so loudly it felt like it was in his skull. Ronan glanced at his legs in shock. Gone were his familiar limbs—the rich tan skin and lean muscles replaced by insect-like appendages. They were predominantly black, adorned with lighter brown and shimmering indigo accents. Long, pointed spines protruded along his calves. Where his feet once were, elongated monstrosities now sprouted—each bearing three large, clawed toes and an even more massive claw in place of his heel.Ronan swallowed hard and examined the rest of his body. His torso, now as black as midnight like the rest of him, appeared mostly normal. Dark fur sprouted from his navel, spreading over his pecs and thickening just below his neck before tapering off. Reaching behind, he felt the fur grow denser down his back. The ebony skin mercifully concealed the implant in his groin. His cock appeared unchanged, though now surrounded by fur where he'd previously been bare.His arms remained unaltered, suggesting the spell couldn't affect his cybernetic augments. Thank the fucking gods."It's really not that bad," Morgan began, but fell silent when Ronan yelled and hurled the knife at her head. She deftly caught it, then marched up to him. "Enough! Stop wallowing. It's not as terrible as you think. In fact, you look good, really good.""I'm gonna kill you," Ronan said slowly, enunciating each word to overcome his useless tongue. "You fooking tricked mey."Morgan snorted, covering her mouth in a futile attempt to hide her laughter. Ronan hunched his shoulders, preparing to tackle the alpha. But as he moved, a sharp spasm shot through his back. He shifted, attempting to ease the discomfort, only to feel an unfamiliar weight dragging at him—right, he had wings now.He was also sitting on those wings, unsure what to do. The cocoon had been placed on a large round table in the center of a spacious room. Ronan's eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings. There was little to note beyond a single folding chair, mold creeping up the peeling walls, and the persistent drip of water from the ceiling. The stench here was just as nauseating as it had been everywhere else in this wretched place.Ronan’s dark eyes landed back on Morgan, they were alone, at least for now. “Why?”“I didn’t have a choice, my brother ordered it,” Morgan sighed, crossing her arms and turning slightly away from him. “He wanted you for the tithe.”“Caspian, that motherfooker.”"Be careful, Ronan," Morgan gaze dropped to the floor as she kicked at a rotted ceramic tile. "My brother's eyes and ears lurk in every shadow, crack and crevice. He'd relish any excuse to claim ownership over you. Please, don't give him the satisfaction.""You could've told him no. He fears you," Ronan said slowly, finally getting the hang of his speech. "You're a fucking mythic, for crying out loud."Morgan laughed and spun back around to face him, "This wasn't the first time he asked. Caspian stole my staff and cut off my assets. Not a single ally would respond to my queries—not one. He wants me to claim you, and until I do, I'm powerless."“Shit, Morgan. Why didn’t you tell me?”The alpha shrugged, a weak smirk tugging at her black lips. "I should have, I just didn't know how. I figured I'd beg for your forgiveness after."Ronan snarled at that. "What? After you'd try to claim me?""No, after all this. I know better than to try claiming you," Morgan said, reaching out to place her hands on both his shoulders. "I understand your hatred for alphas and how much you value your freedom. My brother would never comprehend that. He only wants you because you're Unseelie and sidhe. And, well..." She hesitated. "Your mother was the most skilled changeling of our era.""Don't you dare speak of my mother.""Sorry, I didn't mean—I'm sorry, Ronan."Silence stretched between them as Morgan's hands rubbed his shoulders, attempting to offer comfort. "We need to get you out of this cocoon so your wings can dry."Ronan shrugged Morgan off, "What happens after?"Morgan studied him, her hand coming up to cup his face. Her thumb slid along the sharp bone of his cheek. "We have the feast and final ritual to get through.”“Am I going to be killed?”Morgan shook her head. "No—I don’t believe Caspian would allow it. Even if your new form called for it. Likely they will ask for another kind of death.The pleasurable kind,” she said.Ronan groaned and motioned for Morgan to help him stand. "That's right, I'm fucking innocent or something now, aren't I? They're gonna want my virginity."A bitter chuckle escaped Morgan as she took on the brunt of his weight and placed him on his strange feet. He swayed in her hold, noting he was still about the same height, which put him just a few inches over Morgan.Surprisingly, Ronan managed to center himself and adapt quickly to his new appendages. He took a few steps away from the table until his wings caught again on the edges of the cocoon."Careful!" Morgan halted Ronan, slowly lifting his wings, which were wet and stuck together. "Walk forward, there. Your wings are massive. I don't think I've ever seen an offering take on a form like this. Sprites are supposed to be much smaller.""What do you think went wrong?" Ronan asked, leaning on the table for support. As he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushed against something unfamiliar. The unexpected sensation made his knees buckle, and a startled yelp escaped his lips. "What the fuck?"He managed to stay on his feet, twisting to look at Morgan, “What’s on my head?”Morgan pursed her lips, her silver eyes glued to his forehead. "Well, you look like a moth sprite. A big one. My guess would be antenna."“Antenna? I have fucking antenna? Anything else I should know?”"Well, your coloring suggests a female moth. Though because of your implant, it seems the spell failed to fully take. But my guess…" Morgan's hand brushed down the fur on his chest to his left pec and squeezed. Ronan keened loudly, pushing into Morgan. Her fingers pinched his swollen nipple. Every caress, rub, and squeeze sent jolts of pleasure straight to Ronan's groin, his cock rising to attention.Just as Morgan’s touch became overwhelming, a prolonged squeeze produced a bead of milk. The feeling was indescribably intense, causing Ronan's legs to give out completely. Morgan swiftly caught him before he could fall.Ronan's pec throbbed and continued to throb as he caught his breath. He leaned into Morgan, holding her as if his life depended on it. Morgan's hand trailed down his backside and slid between his buttocks. Ronan jerked and tried to pull away, but Morgan had a strong hold around his slim waist. "Checking one more thing," she said. "Spells have a way of finding alternate paths if they get blocked.""Please don't tell me I'm an omega."Morgan hummed, her fingers gliding over his rim. Shockwaves coursed through Ronan's body, and he instinctively pressed his ass into Morgan’s hand. She eased a single finger inside, then gently withdrew it. As she pulled away, Ronan felt a slick wetness seep out in her finger's wake."No! Goddammit, fucking no!" Ronan whined in dismay."Hush, it's not as bad as you think. You're not a true omega, you don't have a cunt, at least," Morgan said, holding him close. "The slick will help. It'll make it easier for you to take them."Ronan recoiled at that. "Them?""Well, yes. You're the feast—the offering. They'll... have their way with you. Whoever manages to reach you first."A hiss escaped Ronan as he wrenched himself from Morgan. He was about to give her a piece of his mind when the metal doors at the far end of the room flew open with an ear-splitting bang.The troll king, Caspian, strode in, trailed by a sizable entourage. Ronan's stomach plummeted, but he steeled himself, standing his ground as they approached. Morgan reached out and laced her fingers through his. They exchanged a brief, anxious glance before turning their attention back to the imposing monarch.King Caspian was an ugly bastard, as most night trolls were. While frost trolls were large and brutish, their night cousins were wiry and lean with pale grayish skin and spiraling horns sprouting from their foreheads. Night trolls earned their name from their inability to bear sunlight—as a single ray would turn them to stone until nightfall. Unlike their northern relatives, night trolls wielded magic—a power stolen when they overthrew the Unseelie sidhe after the Fall.The troll king flashed a wide grin, golden fangs glinting. He took in Ronan's changed form, eyeing him ravenously. "Ronan, my my, aren't you stunning. This form suits you quite well. If only the spell were permanent. I'd cage you and place you beside my throne for all to see."Ronan bit his tongue, all too familiar with Caspian's teasing. He'd encountered the troll only a few times during his work for Morgan, but each meeting left him itching to slam his fist into the smug alpha’s face. Regrettably, to remain within the Creeps and avoid falling into Huron's clutches, Ronan had no choice but to play along. Forced to endure the twisted rules of the Unseelie court and tolerate Caspian's games.Caspian halted before him, making a circular motion with his finger. "Turn around for me, won't you? I'm eager to see what the gods have bestowed upon us."Morgan released his hand and stepped back. Ronan shot her a venomous glare, slowly spinning for Caspian's inspection. Before he could complete the turn, Caspian grabbed his shoulder."Oh? You've only just emerged?" Caspian said, poking Ronan's damp wings. "Fane, would you be so kind as to dry these? I'd like to see them in their full glory."The rhythmic tapping of a staff on the cracked tile floor drew Ronan's gaze over his shoulder. His eyes fell upon the shaman he'd encountered earlier. Ronan bared his teeth at the hideous old troll, who returned the gesture with a malicious smirk."Certainly, my king," Fane said. "It would be my pleasure. I, too, am eager to see the gods' verdict."Ronan stood still, trying not to flinch as the shaman's staff passed over him. And though it never touched him, the slight disturbance in the air made his new form shudder. The shaman must have caught the twitch of his flesh, for his grating laughter set Ronan's nerves on edge."So sensitive, as you should be," the shaman crooned. He blew a puff of air at Ronan's back that disturbed his fur, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. A chorus of chuckles cut through Caspian's entourage, the king and shaman joining in the cruel mirth.The staff passed over him again, accompanied by Fane’s throaty incantation. Instantly, the weight pulling at Ronan's mid-back lifted, his muscles relaxing. He sighed and rolled his shoulders, causing his wings to spread. As he flexed his back and shoulders, his wings flapped slowly with the movement. Unaware of the silence that had fallen around him, Ronan continued to explore this new part of himself, learning how to isolate his wings."By the gods, have you ever seen such a thing? A black witch moth, a mark of death." The troll king said in reverence, causing Ronan to pause his practice and glance at him. The expression on Caspian’s face had Ronan turning around fully. He slumped his shoulders, his wings folding behind him.The shaman clutched his staff, his beady red eyes boring into Ronan. "My king, this is unprecedented. Never before have we had such a clear omen of death as our offering.""What do the texts say about such an omen?" Morgan asked, moving before Ronan to shield him.Closing his eyes, the shaman hummed thoughtfully. "Harbingers of death demand we appease the gods. A great sacrifice is necessary. We must also find a way to turn this to our advantage, lest we face unrest within the court."Morgan growled, "I will not allow any harm to come to Ronan. If you're after his life, I promise you—you shall not survive the night.""That's quite enough, Morgan," Caspian said, crossing his long arms over his chest. "I gave my word that no harm would come to the beta.""But, my king—" The shaman protested, shaking his head."I've spoken my piece on the matter, Fane." Caspian waved his hand to dismiss the shaman. The king's muted gaze fell back on Ronan. "If blood must be spilled, it will be done. If a life must be taken, we will find something comparable."Nausea gripped Ronan as the conversation swirled around him, his mind reeling at what they might consider an equivalent to death.“We must slay all our finest boars,” the shaman offered, pointing his staff back at Ronan. “Bathe our offering in their blood, and then devour him.”Ronan's brow furrowed at that. Devour? What the hell? He was about to object when Morgan spoke.“I wish to be the one to devour him. I will give the gods a feast of his flesh.”A half-troll pushed through the crowd. Ronan recognized him instantly. Carver.Part sidhe and strikingly handsome, Carver stood tall with obsidian horns pointing straight to the heavens. His ivory skin contrasted with long silver hair that fell to his chest. His eyes, identical to Morgan's, shimmered with the same metallic hue. "My king, brother, I must object," Carver rumbled through his tusks, his deep voice all hungry eagerness. "Morgan is too soft for such a task. I offer myself in her stead."Morgan lunged at her brother, snarling in his face. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze, as Carver towered nearly a head above her. "How dare you! Ronan is mine."Carver laughed, his alpha fangs long and sharp. "Oh, my dear little sister, who do you think you're fooling? We all know you haven't claimed the beta. You've had ample opportunity, yet you've failed to do so. It makes me wonder if you ever will."Caspian clapped his hands together and stepped between his half-siblings, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Now, now. There's much to do to appease the gods. We'll need all willing participants. Surely you two can share?" He turned to Carver. "You may have the first taste—milk him dry." Then to Morgan, "And sister, you may savor the last bite."Fane struck his staff against the ground. "That would be splendid, my king. The last of sidhe royal blood to devour our offering—how fitting. It is the sidhe's demise that has united us. Through this feast of flesh, we shall commemorate their sacrifice.""We will celebrate death on this sacred night as we welcome the autumn solstice. Paying homage to our past," Caspian said, turning to the shaman. "This will be the narrative we spin to the court. Make it happen."“Yes, my king, a strong message on the night the spirits are closest to us,” Fane bowed, using his staff for support."Excellent. I am pleased," Caspian said, gripping Carver's shoulder once more. "Have them bring the boars. You will slaughter them, and then you shall delight in our magnificent offering."Ronan bristled and backed away, dreading the celebration being planned. Morgan glanced at him, her eyes sad, her mouth moving in a silent apology.Though Morgan was sincere, Ronan wasn't ready to forgive her. He turned his gaze away, only for Carver to catch his eye. The alpha winked and blew him a kiss. Ronan held his stare, refusing to back down.Several of Caspian's attendants broke away and came for Ronan. He retreated, only to collide with the table as the night trolls converged on him. They were clearly betas, as none of them had the tusks of their alpha counterparts, each clad in revealing silks. When they reached out to grab him, Ronan hissed and swatted their hands away.Caspian shouldered his way through them, quickly nabbing Ronan's jaw with one hand. His clawed thumb traced Ronan's lower lip—the touch sending a blaze of sparks down his augmented spine. Ronan's lips parted against his will, his tongue latching onto the troll king's finger.Ronan sucked fervently, a moan escaping as his mind danced off into a fuzzy haze. Though the taste didn't quite satisfy the enhanced sweet tooth of his moth form, an urge to keep sucking overrode any aversion."Exquisite," Caspian purred, attempting to withdraw his thumb. But Ronan's tongue twisted tightly around it, refusing to relinquish its hold.When Ronan snatched the troll king's hand with his own, Caspian roared with laughter. Ronan eagerly explored each finger with his coiled tongue, desperate whimpers slipping from him as he failed to find the nectar he craved."My, what a needy creature you are," Caspian remarked. "Don't fret, lovely, we'll feed you well."The attendants surged upon him, their soft touches igniting a blaze of sensation across his body. Ronan released the troll king, a rattled gasp stealing his breath. His legs gave way, but those many hands held him up, while others cleansed his body. His new wings fluttered at the onslaught of pleasure, attempting to escape, but he was too heavy and his new wings not quite strong enough.Delicate fingers brushed over his face, painting his dark skin with a light shimmer to accentuate his sidhe features. His short black hair was swept back, each stroke across his antenna sending shudders through his altered form.They took hold of his hands, guiding him from the room. The troll king and the rest of his entourage trailed behind. Ronan floated in and out of his muddled state. Phantom touches still ghosting over his skin, raising goosebumps along his dark flesh. He struggled to clear his head, his body aching as if starving, slick from the arousal coating his thighs. Gulping lungfuls of air, Ronan stumbled forward. The two night troll attendants leading him glanced back, their grotesque faces twisted into beastly grins.They walked into the darkness, a light beckoning further down the long hallway. Ronan's steps grew more sure as he focused on the soft inviting glow, all else fading away. It wasn't until they stopped, hushed whispers breaching the fog that enveloped him, did Ronan realize he stood alone.Ronan blinked, dispelling his daze to reveal a vast ballroom, ravaged by the same decay that plagued the rest of the property. The mold spores in every breath whispered of its slow, inevitable demise.Looking up, Ronan’s altered reflection stared back at him in the cracked mirrored ceiling. A shattered chandelier hung by mere threads, its crystal pieces dangling like an explosion of icicles. The soft light from a few intact bulbs barely illuminated the horde of Unseelie hidden in the shadows. Only the sheen of their eyes gave them away.The piercing cries of a dying animal sent Ronan spinning around, followed by more heart-rendering shrieks. Several boars lay bleeding out on the stone floor, bodies still twitching as life drained from their eyes. Another was dragged forward, its wild screams chilling before a knife silenced it, leaving only a trail of blood. A red river flowed towards Ronan as he watched each beast perish, the slain forming a gruesome mound.Ronan remained locked in place, unable to flee, each wailing death causing him to shrink. As the final boar met its end, Carver rose from the carnage. The blade dripping in his hand, his naked body splattered with the aftermath, pale flesh gleaming beneath slashes of crimson.The half-troll dropped his knife and picked up a massive golden bowl at his feet. He carried it to Ronan, the muscles of his lean arms and chest straining under the weight. The bowl, filled with boar’s blood, was set before him.More fae emerged from the surrounding crowd, carrying giant platters laden with all manner of delights. These, too, were placed at Ronan's feet, multiplying until he found himself encircled by a cornucopia. Fruits of every variety, goblets and pitchers brimming with sweet wine, and bouquets of flowers—the likes of which Ronan had never encountered in his long life. Succulent meats glistened with honey glaze, while cakes and pastries towered high, their elegant decorations so detailed that Ronan felt a pang of regret at the thought of their destruction.Carver took a knee, dipping his hand into the bowl of blood. The anxious twitch of Ronan's wings brought a nasty smile to the alpha’s face. He swirled his arm around, coating the limb fully before standing. Slowly, Carver stepped forward, raising his bloody hand, palm open, to Ronan."My gift to you—the death of twenty boars," Carver said, the alpha’s fingers sweeping blood across Ronan's mouth before he could draw back.Ronan inhaled the sweet metallic scent, his strange tongue darting out to taste his stained lips. Carver held his gaze, deliberately smearing the essence across his own mouth.An invisible force tugged at Ronan's chest, drawing him closer. He surged forward, catching the alpha in a feral kiss.Stretching upward, Ronan wrapped his metal arms around the alpha's neck. His long tongue unfurled, exploring the depths of Carver's mouth. He traced the sharp points of his upper fangs and over the tusks curling out from his lower jaw. Nails wandered down Ronan's sides, making his entire being quiver. He pressed his hips forward, craving more of the intoxicating touch. Ronan fought the urge to yield, to surrender to the pull that was as much a part of him as his own beating heart. He strained against it, a silent battle waged beneath his skin and a low growl rumbled in his chest. He braced himself, muscles rigid, but the force was inexorable, dragging him closer to the alpha.Strong hands seized Ronan's thighs, lifting him. He wrapped his peculiar legs around Carver's waist, the half-troll kneeling in the center of the numerous platters. A sudden tickle of air behind Ronan set his wings beating with nervous energy, and he clung more firmly to Carver’s shoulders. Movement caught his eye, but before Ronan could turn, a deluge of blood cascaded over both him and Carver.It felt endless—engulfing every sense in its searing scarlet heat. Ronan was lost within it, the metallic rush sparking a violent hunger that clawed its way to the surface. He gasped, the iron bite of life filling his mouth, and swallowed.A shudder coursed through Ronan as he shook blood from his face. Sharp claws raked up his chest, sliding through the mess coating his fur. They stopped at his neck with a firm squeeze, then pulled him closer. Carver's face pressed against his."Beta," he said in a breathy exhale, "I'm going to ruin you. And then I'm going to make you mine."A touch on his drenched wings sent Ronan into rapture, his hips involuntarily rutting against the alpha's groin. He felt Carver's hard cock trapped between them, slipping up alongside his own risen length. Once Ronan's hips began to move, they didn’t stop, the grisly lubrication making it easier to slide.Helpless whimpers fell from Ronan's parted lips as his sinuous tongue trailed along Carver's collarbone, sucking up the blood trapped there. The lingering sweetness of the boar's essence only sharpened his insatiable appetite.Carver pressed Ronan into his throat, where his pheromones mingled with the rich scent of copper, a cloying blend laced with the spice of cloves. The alpha maintained a firm grip around the back of Ronan's neck, like a collar, while exploring his wings. This dual sensation made Ronan squirm and moan in Carver's arms, trapped in a state of exquisite torment."My brother was right, you are magnificent," Carver whispered. The tip of his clawed nails traced the edges of Ronan's metal spine before descending to cup his ass with a harsh squeeze, rubbing the blood into his skin.Ronan's sucking ceased with a guttural groan, his head falling back. His wings, leaden and sodden, sputtered instead of buzzed, showering the encroaching fae with droplets of scarlet. The faint light glinted off their faces, revealing their wicked delight. Ronan trembled under the weight of so many eyes, each one piercing him with predatory intent.Fingers teased his leaking hole, and Ronan shrieked, his focus pulled away from the crowd. He was so wet, so ready, his body seeking to swallow Carver’s hand whole. If Ronan had the ability to speak, he would have pleaded, but Carver was already giving him exactly what he wanted, long fingers probing deeper."Gods, you're dripping wet. Such a beautiful bitch, so needy for my cock. Don't fret, my precious beta, I'll ravage this hole of yours soon enough."Carver's fingers moved with ease, producing lewd, wet sounds that mingled with Ronan's unrestrained moans. They pressed in and spread, widening him until knuckles sank past his rim.Ronan's body convulsed, hands digging into Carver’s flesh, his release spilling over the alpha’s stomach. A lustful shout signaling to all observers that Ronan had come undone by fingers alone.A low chuckle brushed against Ronan's ear as Carver held him close, his hand still buried deep. "Such a good beta, coming so easily for your alpha."Yanking his hand free, Carver ripped a cry from Ronan as frigid air hit the heat of his gaping hole. Carver brought his hand, covered in blood and slick, before Ronan's face, his other hand releasing Ronan's neck to capture his hair. The scent of plum, potent and true, hit Ronan. His mind briefly cleared, recognizing his authentic scent—one he had believed to be forever tainted."I bet you taste as sweet as you smell. Gods, I've never encountered a scent so intoxicating." Carver sucked his first two fingers with a rumbling growl, then offered the rest to Ronan.The thought of tasting himself was repulsive, yet that overwhelming demand consumed him. Before Ronan could stop himself, his tongue entwined around Carver's hand, sipping it clean.Violet petals swirled with plum in a heady salty mix and metallic tang. Ronan's tongue burned, his throat aching with a forgotten longing. Tears poured from his eyes, which Carver licked away."Now, now, save your tears," he said. "You'll need them when my knot destroys you."Carver hoisted Ronan up as he adjusted his position, nearly losing purchase in the pool of blood beneath them. Ronan moaned as the thick cock speared along his crack, its head slipping easily into his well-stretched hole. He came again with a strained yell, his back arching, a powerful flutter from his soaked wings creating a bloody gust.Even as Ronan clenched down on the cock spearing him, Carver drove upward, bottoming out completely. Remnants of his orgasm, weaker this time, stretched Ronan thin, his length barely dribbling any spend.Ronan found himself staring at his own reflection in the mirror above, taking in his black, glittering wings for the first time. Indigo and neon blue patterns highlighted their edges before fading into pure obsidian. Slight accents of bronze sparkled as brightly as the lustrous black, creating a tantalizing display even when covered in blood. His ebony body appeared like the night itself to the crimson-drenched alpha beneath him, his features barely visible save for the glint of light in his dark eyes. He looked eerie, yet also beautiful. Even with his fluffy antenna.Carver grabbed Ronan's face, guiding his gaze back. Ronan shuddered, acutely aware of the alpha filling him completely. His hips twitched."That's it, pretty," Carver purred. "Roll those hips for me. Show me how well you can ride."Ronan blinked at the alpha, his spent body nearly boneless. Carver lowered his hands to grip Ronan's waist, bending forward to drag his tongue from Ronan's jaw to the scent glands at the nape of his neck. As tusks pressed into his skin and fangs pinched, Ronan jerked in the alpha's hold, rocking forward before drawing back. The thick cock sank deeper, forcing a shrill, almost panicked whine from Ronan.He reached up and gripped the alpha's horns, his metal hands slipping on the sharp ridges before finding leverage. Carver grunted, lifting his face until their foreheads met. Ronan began to ride the alpha, heaving breaths mingling in a thick fog between them.Carver synchronized with Ronan's movements. As Ronan descended, the alpha thrust upward, his grunts growing louder with each collision. Soon, Carver was holding him more tightly, hips jerking uncontrollably. A sharp pain stabbed at Ronan as Carver’s expanding knot failed to slip past his rim. But that didn’t stop Carver from trying again.Ronan clung to the alpha's horns, his teeth clenched against the scream seeking to eject from his throat. Squeezing his eyes shut, tears rolled down his face as Carver's knot pounded against his hole.Pain battered his senses, yet pleasure held it at bay—until, with one powerful thrust, it tore its way in. At the same time, Carver sank his fangs into Ronan's scent gland.Ronan screamed as another release crashed through him, his body shattering from the alpha's bite and vast knot. No amount of preparation could have readied Ronan for this. Even in this quasi-omega state, the size of Carver’s knot broke him.A rush of burning hot seed poured into Ronan's ravished hole. It stung fiercely. Ronan cried out again, his voice joining Carver's in a climactic howl.Each spurt of come made Ronan twitch, but gradually, the spasms lessened. The tight grip on Ronan's body loosened until Carver fell back, dragging Ronan with him. They landed atop a tray of desserts. The back of the alpha’s shoulder smashed into a fruitcake, obliterating it.Cream landed on the side of Carver's bloodied face. Ronan released the alpha's horns, seeking out the sweet confection. Before he could bring it to his mouth, a hand stopped him. Ronan looked up to see a grinning goblin and an array of other Unseelie creatures—redcaps clambering to break through the crowd, along with kelpies shifting into humanoid forms. They closed in on him and Carver.A laugh from the alpha drew Ronan's gaze back. "That food isn't for you," Carver said with a smirk. "But don't worry, it seems there are plenty here willing to feed you."The horde wrenched Ronan upward, causing him to wince as his body caught on Carver's knot. Before he could voice his pain, a cock shoved its way into his mouth. Hands roamed over his sensitive wings and body, while sharp teeth latched onto his nipples and spent member.They ate him alive, eager mouths covering every inch of his body—biting, licking, sucking. Simultaneously, his throat accommodated a parade of lengths, his nimble tongue coiling tightly around each one. Seed filled his stomach, nourishing him in a perverse feast.Tied to Carver’s knot, he had no escape. The alpha cackled relentlessly, driving his knot deeper as Ronan experienced one dry orgasm after another. A searing pain blotting out all other sensations.He could only endure as his consciousness finally surrendered, slipping away into the dark."Ronan," a familiar voice called fondly.Ronan tried to respond, but a heavy weight held him under.A fleeting touch caressed his brow, soft nails weaving through his scalp. The soothing ministration lightened the weight pressing upon him, and Ronan's eyes slowly opened.Morgan hovered over his prone form, her long silver-black hair cascading down her bare chest. Ronan lay curled on his side, reminiscent of his posture when he first emerged from his cocoon. He felt utterly drained and used, yet uncomfortably full."We're nearly finished," Morgan said softly, her fingers mapping the plains of his face. "I'll be as gentle as I can, Ronan, but I'm sorry—there's more pain to come."Ronan closed his eyes, tears pooling and sliding over the bridge of his nose.Morgan whined and collapsed onto him, her arms wrapping tightly around his back. "I promise," she said fiercely in a hushed voice, "as soon as I reclaim my staff, I'll make them all pay. I'll rain hellfire upon my brothers and every troll who had a hand in this.""No," Ronan croaked, returning Morgan's embrace. "It doesn't matter. None of it does."Morgan pulled back, her gaze meeting his. Her lips trembled as she whispered, "It matters to me."He studied her forlorn face, silver eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Do you want to know why I agreed to come with you tonight?" Ronan asked.A curious furrow appeared between Morgan's brows, and Ronan smirked. "I like you, Morgan. Always have, and without you, I’d be Huron’s fucking puppet. I’d have said yes to coming here tonight, whatever you told me."Ronan locked his gaze with Morgan's. "Now, devour me," he rasped, the words catching in his throat. "Break this spell, and let us get the fuck outta here. Loki is probably tearing my cube apart.”Laughter hid a devastated sob as Morgan shook her head, tears raining down onto Ronan. “That damn sprite, I don’t know how you put up with them.”"To be honest, I'm not sure either," Ronan said, gripping Morgan to pull his sore body up and place a tender kiss on her lips, eyes closing. Morgan fell into him, reciprocating with a soft whimper.The kiss was better than he imagined. Morgan tasted of sugared cinnamon and fire. He drank of her, curling his tongue over every inch of her mouth and lips, even her short tusks. When he opened his eyes, he saw the glow surrounding Morgan had returned. It enveloped her completely, and he could feel its warmth. Ronan realized he was witnessing her magic—a magnificent sight, befitting the most revered mythic of their time.“Devour me, alpha.”Morgan jolted at that, for she knew Ronan avoided the title "alpha" like a plague. “I’m going to cherish every part of you," Morgan murmured, her tusks brushing his forehead along with her kisses. "Present for me, Ronan."Careful of his wings, she guided him onto his hands and knees. Every muscle screamed in protest, the dried blood caking his body itching unbearably. Ronan fought the urge to scratch, his arms trembling as they supported his weight. Lowering his chest to the floor, he kept his hips raised, finding a momentary ease in the posture. The relief was short-lived, however, as Morgan directed him to spread his knees wide.Ronan grunted as his tender hole stretched, the discomfort making him irritable. Morgan's soft coo only fueled his frustration, and he turned his head to glare at her with a scowl. Her strong fingers began to massage his back at the base of his wings, expertly teasing out the knots. A long groan escaped his lips, wings lifting in bliss as the tension melted away under her touch."That feels so good," Ronan said, eyes drifting closed until he caught Morgan parting her thighs.He pushed himself to his elbows, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the full sight of Morgan bathed in the muted glimmer of the shattered chandelier. Silver-black hair cascaded down to reveal her shapely breasts and the dusky gray of her pebbled nipples. Her pale stone-colored skin seemed to shimmer, like moonlight reflecting on polished granite, the deep shadows playing across her form only accentuating its ethereal glow.Even kneeling, she exuded a fluid grace, her movements deliberate and composed as her hand trailed down her flat stomach, finally coming to rest on her mons.Ronan swallowed hard, the alpha's beauty crushing his heart. A cruel reminder that she could never truly be his.Long, slim fingers slid beneath glistening folds, and Morgan’s clit expanded into a protruding nub. He stared, wide-eyed, as it grew—not quite as thick as Carver's, but its impressive length made him apprehensive.He had never been with a female alpha before—they were as uncommon as omegas, and just as highly coveted. Often thrust into leadership roles, their stable natures making them preferable to their male counterparts.As her erection filled, Morgan's other sex also swelled, the entrance to her cunt becoming more pronounced. Unlike male alphas, Morgan lacked a visible ballsack. Ronan found it both strange and beautiful, and he couldn't deny feeling a twinge of envy."What's that look?" Morgan asked with a coy smile, her hand gliding along her impressive length, her black nails drawing Ronan's gaze.Ronan blushed, struggling to find the right words. "You're stunning," he said quietly, "and I'll admit, I'm a bit jealous that you don't have to worry about getting kicked in the balls."Morgan threw her head back, laughing heartily. "Of course that's what you'd be thinking about. Trust me, it still hurts plenty to get kicked in the groin.""Yeah, but it's probably not as painful, considering your cock can retract too. That's totally unfair.""You know what's truly unfair? Getting both heats and ruts," Morgan retorted, her hand sliding down his back to fondle his ass.Ronan shivered at the caress, surprised to learn that female alphas experienced both heats and ruts. "You've got me there," he conceded, once again admiring Morgan. He could easily picture her ruling the Unseelie court with a finesse her brother greatly lacked. A part of him longed to see such a thing come true.Morgan eased up onto her knees, her hand pressing his chest back to the floor before shuffling behind him. She parted his cheeks, a sharp burning radiating at the touch.“You’re torn,” she observed, bending forward to trace her tongue along his cleft and over his rim before sinking it in. Ronan winced as her tusks further parted his sore flesh. Carver’s knot had indeed ruined him, just like he promised. Yet as Morgan’s tongue swept into him, Ronan detected the soothing tingle of a healing spell.Soon, the burning pain transformed into pleasure, then escalated to mind-blowing ecstasy. Ronan panted, his cock twitching as a thrilling rush built deep behind his balls. His length swelled, hanging heavily between his parted thighs. Slick gushed from his backside with each lap of Morgan's tongue. He dug his fingers into the floor, hips jerking, sweat dripping from every inch of his altered form. Wings buzzing at every stroke of that hot, wet tongue. When he couldn't take anymore, he tried to crawl away. Morgan, however, seized his hips before he could escape, issuing a warning growl.Morgan resumed her efforts with renewed vigor, devouring Ronan's hole. He mewled and fought against her hold, his body unraveling."Morgan—I'm going to come," Ronan gasped between ragged breaths, legs trembling.That seemed to be the alpha's goal. Ronan's release crashed through him, the intensity causing his hole to clench hard as his cock erupted. An embarrassing squeal escaped his lips, loud enough for all to hear.Exhausted, Ronan collapsed onto the floor, his legs giving way beneath him. The powerful release had emptied him completely, leaving him gasping for air. Morgan positioned herself between his legs, spreading them uncomfortably wide. Ronan groaned but lacked the strength to hold himself up, and there was nothing available to prop his hips.A profound sense of exposure rippled through Ronan. Around him lay the wreckage of the feast: shattered platters, trampled blossoms, and a scattering of crumbs like fallen stars. Devoured by the greedy horde, Ronan the main course. In the midst of the carnage, a single, glistening berry caught his eye.Looking past it, he observed the fae lurking in the shadows. Their lustful expressions were unmistakable, eyes wide with desire, as they shamelessly displayed and pleasured themselves.Ronan snarled at them, despising how this Samhain spectacle tainted his first intimate moment with Morgan. He cursed the gods, his birthright, and every Unseelie fae present. As an omen of death, he felt a grim satisfaction—that's precisely what they all deserved.A kiss pressed to the base of his spine brought Ronan’s focus back. Steeling himself in preparation for Morgan to devour him—whatever that entailed. He considered asking but decided against it. Knowing wouldn't change anything, and Morgan would struggle enough with the task ahead.Morgan’s lips roved their way up his augmented spine, her hand gliding over the expanse of his back. Ronan felt her cock press against his buttocks, hard and ready to take him. He moaned and writhed, his hands clenching as she licked the edge of one of his wings.A firm grip at the back of his neck made Ronan flinch, Morgan's nails digging in. She held him down as she entered him. Ronan attempted to escape the intense and awful stretch, his hole having tightened after Morgan's healing spell. Her impossible length continued to enter him. At one point she must have reached a block within, because Ronan howled, but that didn’t stop her. With a grunt Morgan drew back and thrusted forward, reaching deeper than anything ever had before.Ronan panicked, trying everything to get the alpha off and out of him. His metal hands scratched deep grooves into the soft granite floor. A deafening yell filled the entire space, growing with each shove of the cock snaking its way into his bowels. It felt like an eternity had passed before Morgan finally bottomed out with a groan of her own.A wailing sob suffocated Ronan, his body refusing to let anything in, even air. Morgan kneaded his neck, her nails pressing into the scent glands on both sides. Immediately, Ronan gasped with a lurch, his lungs filling, a broken keen pouring from him as he exhaled. The alpha waited until his breathing steadied, continuing her attention at the back of his neck. Her other hand pet along his side before reaching under to stroke him. Ronan jerked, his cock overly sensitive.He remained soft in her hand, unable to harden, but gradually the agony of Morgan buried deep within him subsided. He slumped, and Morgan purred, releasing his cock to run her hand over his distended lower belly. The pressure of her hand against the augment in his groin was extremely uncomfortable, but even more so was the sensation of her length poking through his body."You're taking me so well, Ronan. I'm sorry it—it had to be so rough," she whispered, her voice taxed. Ronan could hear her own pain. He longed to reach for her, but even the slightest movement felt arduous."Gods forgive me," Morgan said quietly under her breath.A tug on his backside had Ronan bracing with a whine. Morgan started slow, fucking him with a merciful rhythm, but it didn't last long. Soon Ronan cried out in pain with each snap of Morgan's hips. Brief spikes of pleasure punctuated the experience, but was quickly replaced by a building suffering. Ronan's body shook as he came, his cock still soft. It caught him off guard. He trembled through the creeping release, his body coiling tightly and refusing to let go. It only worsened when Morgan's knot began to expand. She timed it perfectly, sinking her full length in, her knot catching just past his rim. A silent scream tore through Ronan, lacking enough air for his anguish to reach the gods—whether they dwelled above the clouds or below within the watchful abyss.Morgan came with a roar, her seed flooding Ronan and increasing the agonizing pressure. His stomach expanded further with each pulse of her release. There was no respite—as soon as Morgan descended from her high, her sharp nails shredded his wings. Agony ripped through Ronan, unlike anything he'd ever known. It eclipsed even the day he was torn from his home, sold by his own mother.As Morgan ripped his wings to ribbons, the scars on Ronan's soul burned within. With a piercing yell, she tore a wing completely from his shoulder. Her rumbling moans drifted through Ronan's shock as she devoured every scrap of his wing. Ronan thrashed beneath her, the tug of her knot adding to his torment. When she cleaved his other wing, Ronan let the darkness swallow him whole.This time, however, Ronan wasn't alone, a dark form enveloped him. As he pulled away from its embrace, he found himself face-to-face with a visage strikingly similar to his own.Ronan stepped back, noting the differences between them. The stranger was full sidhe, with long, high-pointed ears and slightly sharper features, skin a warm tan much like his. He towered over Ronan, his frame hinting at his alphan nature. Unlike Ronan's all-black eyes, the stranger's were a hypnotizing blend of blue shades—lighter in the center, and darkening at the edges. His long, raven hair cascaded in a silky curtain to his elbows.The stranger blinked, tilting his head slightly, his perfect lips easing into a fond smile."Ronan," he said, tears welling in his eyes. "Oh, how I've longed to meet you."Retreating further, Ronan shook his head, an ache in his throat stealing his ability to speak. Unable to comprehend what was happening, he looked around frantically at the empty dark landscape, his breaths coming in quick, panicked gasps. Eventually he turned back to face the stranger.A melancholic expression settled on the stranger's face, only enhancing his ethereal beauty. "Our time is limited," he said. "Your sacrifice has granted me this brief chance to reach you.""Who—who the fuck are you?" Ronan finally managed to say. But deep down, he already knew the stranger's identity. How could he not? The face before him mirrored the only image his mother had ever carried—a hologram preserved in a locket that once hung from her neck. As a child, on those rare occasions when his mother allowed him to sit in her lap, Ronan would play with that locket, transfixed by the familiar yet distant visage within."Why are you here?" Ronan screamed, tears streaming down his face. "You're fucking dead!"The stranger—his father—nodded. His lips trembled, mouth opening and closing as he searched for words. “Yes, Ronan. I have long departed your world. If I had known, if Síofra had told me about you, I never would have left.”"But you did, and it's all your fault. All of it." Ronan glared at his father, the reason Huron had experimented on him, seeking to mold him into Rorrick’s image. “Everything that’s happened, every awful thing.”Rorrick rushed at him then, his hands gripping Ronan's shoulders before pulling him into a bruising hold. "Yes, I am to blame, and I am forever remorseful. I hope that one day you may forgive me. I've done what I can to watch over you, to be with you even though we're worlds apart.""My son, my precious son," Rorrick said, leaning back to cup Ronan's face, his blue eyes searching Ronan's dark ones. "I left your world, believing I was the last. But now you are. You will be offered the same choice as I, or another, a much harder one. I suspect you are stronger than I ever was. That you can resist Huron, fight back—”Ronan snarled, wrenching himself free from Rorrick's grasp. "Fight back? Do you even know what Huron is? He was your alpha first, for fuck's sake. No, I renounce you and whatever you're trying to impose on me. I'm no one's puppet—not Huron's, not yours, not anyone's." He jabbed a finger into Rorrick's chest. "I don't need you. I never did. But she did. I had to watch her slowly wither and pray for death every day.""Ronan, please—" His father began, but Ronan silenced him with a forceful shove. Rorrick stumbled back, a shocked expression on his face.“Go back to wherever it is you came from. I have nothing more to say to you.”Rorrick nodded, his head bowing as he looked behind him, away from Ronan. He began to walk off, only to glance back, his eyes glistening. "Remember these words, my son. A reckoning is coming for Loveland. Darkness cannot exist without the light, and when the last star is extinguished, all will be lost. You must save the light to save the dark."His father turned and strode into the darkness. Ronan's chest tightened as the ominous words echoed in his mind, their meaning elusive. Before he could demand clarification, Rorrick disappeared, leaving Ronan alone with his unanswered questions.Ronan stood looking at where his father had vanished, his heart pounding. Suddenly a whisper of wind called his name. Ronan spun around, but saw nothing. But then the voice grew louder, he recognized it. Morgan was calling him.Closing his eyes, Ronan searched with his mind's eye for the light surrounding Morgan, reaching for her warmth. He found it easily, for it had been beside him this whole time.When Ronan opened his eyes, he was back in his habitation cube, lying on his cot. A warm body pressed against his back, and as he rolled over, he found Morgan next to him. The alpha was sound asleep, a pained expression contorting her pretty face. She let out a whimper and spoke his name, her hands twitching. Ronan covered them with his own, "Morgan, it's okay. I'm right here."Morgan's silver eyes fluttered open, and Ronan flashed her a reassuring smile. "You were dreaming," he said.“Ronan, you’re awake?” Morgan pulled a hand from beneath him. A light touch at the bite on his scent gland had him looking down. “How do you feel? Any pain?”The tender ring of teeth marks sung beneath Morgan's fingertips, but he wasn't concerned. It would likely fade in a few days. Carver had failed, and Ronan simmered in quiet delight, imagining the alpha's face when he discovered his claim didn’t take. He pictured the fury, the disbelief—it would have been a sight to savor.“No, I’m good.” Ronan said, then peered over his shoulder at his cube, finding it eerily quiet.“Where’s Loki?”"Where do you think they are?" Morgan asked back, a hint of humor in her tone. Ronan figured Loki was out scouring the streams, seeking ways to exact revenge. A smirk tugged at his lips as he imagined all the mischief his sprite would unleash upon the Unseelie court.“You did tell Loki not to take it too far, right?”Morgan rolled her eyes and sat up, “Yes, but do they ever listen?”No, Loki never listened. Ronan laughed and rolled onto his back. "You ate my fucking wings," he said. "What did they taste like?""We're not discussing that. I'm not ready," Morgan said, retreating from the cot and reaching for her clothes. Ronan, still naked, pulled back the covers and followed her. He swiftly examined his body. Nothing appeared out of place, just his normal self. No aches or pains. It was as if nothing had ever happened."Next time, Morgan, you'll tell me the truth."Morgan zipped up her leather jacket, straightening her hair around her horns. Her eyes lingered on Ronan's face before checking him over. "There won't be a next time," she said firmly, before stomping her foot on the floor, summoning her staff. It materialized in her hand, a magnificent weapon of silver moonlight ore, crowned with a brilliant yellow diamond. Intricate spiraling spells were etched along its length, and the bottom tapered to a sharp, deadly point."Caspian is dead, and I've declared war on the Unseelie court."