Authors: Charlotte Featherstone
Dear Diary,
I have learned through my years as a mortal that change is inevitable. Even for an immortal fey prince, the uncertainty of life is the commodity that binds us together with our existence.
As I reflect upon my life, I have come to a sort of acceptanceâto embrace what I once was, and what I am now. Before, I was a virtue. Now, I am a fey princess, bound to the Dark Court. Some would argue that I am no longer alive. That I am cursed. Soulless. Empty. I have given my body and soul to a faery, and therefore, I am nothingâdead.
But if, indeed, I am dead, then I must concede that I am more alive than ever I was. In this life, I am free to be who I am. A woman of noble birth. A woman possessed of a deep well of passion. A woman possessed by Lust.
I remember those minutes, the moments I gave myself to Lust, and committed my virtue to the Unseelie Court; when I gave my soul to my Dark Fey prince. There was no fear, no
remorse, only the splendor of passion, the warmth and promise of everlasting pleasure with this man. As my heart slowed, I felt him clutching me, as if silently pleading with me to stay with him, to not change my mind and leave him alone forever.
I watched him take of meâhis body loving mine. Never had he made such beautiful love to me. At that moment, I knew that both Lust and Thane were vital to my existence. I felt my soul lift, then suffuse into his body. His beautiful eyes closed in ecstasy at the taste, the intimacy of having me inside him, the sanctity of sheltering my soul for eternity. This image of the man I loved pressed against me was the last my living, mortal eyes saw before I was claimed by him as his eternal bride.
I am enslaved now, but not a prisoner. I have chosen this life willingly, and do not regret it. How could I when I have a man like Thane to tempt me? To care for me? To love me?
I am a virtue. A savior in my new home, for the Unseelie Court is now home. The Dark Fey my family. I have given up my mortal life to become the first of seven women to save a dying courtâa court as misunderstood as I once believed I was.
My human family resides “up top” in the mortal realm. I come to them at night, in their dreams, through the magic of my husband. I miss them, especially my sisters whose fates are entwined with mine. I speak to them of the splendor of the court, the pleasures that await themâthe princes who desire them. But they are still virtues, and not yet ready to heed the call of desire. But still, their sins await them, ever patient, ever proud. Ever eager to give them a taste of the desires harbored within a Dark Fey. Soon, they will come. They will listen to their hearts, and they will trust as I have trusted. We will be reunitedâin this world. I am certain of it.
While my sisters speak to me in their dreams, Mama weeps for me while Papa sits in his study, all alone. He has told Mama of his bargain with the fey, and while she was shocked, heartbroken and outraged, she has begun to slowly accept that we shall meet again. Perhaps it is my nightly visits to her that have helped her accept that her daughters are not cursed, but blessed. We were born to a higher power, a power that is much needed in the Unseelie Court.
I am not angry with Papa. He made his pact with the faery queen out of love. I have come to realize what one will do in the name of love, for I know there is nothing I would not do for Thane.
My heart beats for him. My body burns for his touch. Thane, my Dark Fey prince. My lover. My husband is more than I could ever have hoped for. He has worked tirelessly to bring me happiness. To make my transition from mortal to faery princess as easy as possible. He still feels some measure of guilt for betraying me, even though I have tried to convince him that my heart and soul have always longed for him, to be where he is, whether it be in the mortal realm, or his court. How can he not realize that it was him alone that awakened me? That made me see who I truly was? What woman would not wish to give up everything in order to stay with him? I tell him this, every night, right before he takes me. Sometimes it is Lust who claims my body. Sometimes my Unseelie lover. But it is always beautiful. Always breathtaking. Always love.
My existence was part of a curse, my conception used to thwart this court. All my life I believed my virtue was a higher power, my birth something precious. But it has been a sad truth
to realize that I was conceived to hurt. To destroy. I was born to ruin this court, and Thane.
For in the weeks here, I have realized that all is not as it would appear in the mortal realmâor in Faery. Those we thought we knew, we discover we never really knew at all. Sometimes it pains us to discover that someone we thought so highly of is not worthy of our love. Sometimes it gives us relief to be proved wrong, to be shown the goodness in someone we feared incapable of anything but destruction.
Good and evil, saint and sinner, all relative terms and as blurred as the many faceted layers of the truth. What is good? What is evil? I wonder if I shall ever know, shall ever understand the workings of good and bad. I always thought I did, until that night when I realized it was possible for good to be bad, and those who were considered to be evil, to be good.
Sin is a pleasure, and sometimes pleasure is a sinâbut never here at the Dark Court. Here, sin is always a pleasure, and I shall embark to commit it every day of my existence alongside my fey prince.
Â
MIDNIGHT. THE GARDEN WAS ENGULFED IN SHADOW. The air heavy with an impending storm. She had come again, in her dreams. Chastity. Glowing. Beautiful.
In love.
Mary sat on the garden bench, stewing at the memory of her sister. It had not been a dream. Chastity had really been thereâpresent in her room. She'd been smiling, happy, and Mary knew that her sister was lying with a beautiful faery and enjoying every second of it.
Why?
she wondered, not for the first time. Why had
Chastity been first? She cursed Crom for not being able to find her sister in time before she'd been carted off to the Unseelie Court. They had made a bargain, and now she was left here, forced to bear witness to her sister's conjugal bliss.
Angry and jealous, Mary tore the petals off a rose and squeezed the bud tightly in her fist. She would not be left alone.
“You've been betrayed.”
Crom's voice came from the shadows, and Mary watched as he appeared, golden and beautiful and virile as he walked toward her.
“You've been robbed of your birthright.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, narrowing her gaze.
She had not seen Crom in weeks. That he was here now must mean he needed her again. Well, she would not agree to any further alliance with him.
“You were intended for Rinion, the Dark Fey prince possessed of Vanity.”
“As I told you.”
“Your father made a bargain with him. The hand of his firstborn daughter, for unlimited riches. Beltane was to have been your wedding day.”
“Then why I am here?” she snapped. “Why am I still suffering this deplorable existence?”
“Because
you
weren't his firstborn daughter. That honor, my lovely, belongs to the village seamstress's daughter.”
“A bastard!” she spat, unable to credit it. “That plainâ¦
daughter
of the seamstress, she has the beautiful fey in tended for me?”
Crom's eyes glistened. “She does, indeed. And every thing he is giving to her, should be yours.”
Jumping up, Mary paced before the bench, unconcerned with the fact she was in her nightclothes. Suddenly, she stopped and looked up at the Seelie prince.
“What can be done?”
“I am certain that you can have himâbut it will cost you. Faery gifts do not come without a tithe.”
“Don't I know it,” she drawled. “Well, what do you want?”
“Prudence,” he promptly replied. “Tonight.”
“Why?”
Crom shrugged. “I could not have Chastity. 'Tis a pity, I wanted her not just because she was a virtue, but be cause I desired her. She is lost now, corrupted by Lust and my dark counterparts. But the other virtues cannot be lost. They cannot be allowed to go to their court. I must possess them if I am to see the Dark Court destroyed.”
“And what will I get?” Mary snapped. It was no trial to hand over her sister to Crom. The uptight, spinsterish Prudence actually
wanted
to go their court.
Crom took a step closer and captured her face in his hands. “If you help me obtain your sisters, then I will make certain that Rinion will be yours.”
“A Dark Fey, for my sister.”
“Precisely.”
Crom lowered his head and Mary looked into his
beautiful eyes. “You don't need
me,
do you?” she asked coyly.
“You are not a virtue,” he whispered, “but I need you. I think you know just how much.”
No, she was not a virtue. She'd always known that. But she wanted what was supposed to be hers. Rinion. But she suddenly found herself curious about what Crom was offering. Men always wanted her, and she wanted them. She could feel how much Crom desired her.
“We'll work together,” he murmured as he brushed his thumb over her lips, “and I can show you how to pleasure your Dark lover. I am half Dark Fey, you know, and have more than my share of their desires.”
Mary trembled as Crom tore her night rail from her body. She was wet. Aching. She was not virtue. Or a virgin.
“You want this,” he asked as he cupped her breasts.
“Yes. I want this bargain. I want you. But most of all, I want what's mine.”
“Then you shall have it.”
And, heedless of her own betrayal to her sisters, Mary lay down on the grass beneath Crom and allowed his pleasure while she thought of how she would convince Prudence to go with Crom to his court. Thoughts of the Seelie Court soon gave way to images of the decadent Unseelie Court.
Closing her eyes, Mary pictured Rinion, and imagined it was his mouth licking her sexânot Crom's.
“Yes,” she cried out, bucking beneath him. Yesâ¦she would have what she was entitled to, even if she had to sell her own mother to the Seelie Fey to get it.
THANK YOU TO KATHLEEN OUDIT, FOR ONCE
again spoiling me with a gorgeous cover. It's everything I wanted and more!
And to my fantabulous editor, Susan Swinwood, who most definitely lives up to the adage Patience is a virtue! Thank you for that!
LUST
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8443-6
Copyright © 2011 by Charlotte Featherstone
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photography and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Spice Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book please contact us at [email protected].
Spice and the Colophon are trademarks used under license and registered in Australia, New Zealand, Philippines, United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.