Beauty [A Faery Story 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Sophie Oak Read Free Book Online Page B

the Unseelie.”
    A single sluagh floated to the front of the crowd that had now moved, coalescing into a single mob. The sluagh had obviously been a sidhe at one time, the long lines of his body a dead giveaway. The flesh at his throat was mottled and gnarled, signs of the rope that he had hanged from.
    “The sluagh are grateful that such high-born men would stoop to speak with us. King Beckett and King Cian, you might be the rightful owners of the Seelie throne, but you do not sit upon it. King Fergus, you rule the Unseelie, but we have no use for you.” His head whipped around, eyes locking firmly on Lachlan. Every one of the sluagh turned in one motion, a great flock of wicked birds of prey. “We seek the King of the Dead.”
    Duffy tugged at his tunic. “Damn me, Lach. I think they’re talking about you. Should I get me axe?”
    “Hush, Duffy.” For once Shim sounded serious.
    “What are you talking about?” His father’s voice boomed through the hall. “Leave my son alone. He isn’t well. Guards, take the princes out.”
    Lach stood. He wasn’t about to be hauled out like an idiot child who didn’t know his place. He did know where he belonged. He hated it, but the dead called to him. He turned his eyes on the guards coming in. “Touch me and I’ll kill you. Once you’re dead, I’ll take control of your corpse and turn you on everyone you love. Do you understand?”
    “Prince Lachlan, we must do as your father requests. He is king.”
    The sluagh leader was suddenly right in his ear, a cold whisper across his flesh. “He is not the king of us, Your Highness, and you know this to be true. Your power is not whole yet without your bondmate at your side. Take power from us. We give it willingly. Show them. Show them all.”
    He looked down at Shim, seeking sound counsel, but his brother’s face had turned cold and hard. “I feel it, too, brother, though it is not my power to take. Take it. Show them. ’Tis the only way to prove it.”
    Ice edged through him, the sluagh pushing death power his way. He could command this. This was no flare of uncontrolled talent. This was raw power, and he was the master. He reached out to call the dead to him.
    A loud wail went up. A grunting and then a scream as the boar that had been roasted and laid out on the table for feasting struggled to its legs. A headless fowl, plucked and covered in sauce, unfurled grotesque wings and tried to fly. The group of sluagh shimmered, their bodies humming with power.
    “Enough!” His father roared through the hall. “Enough, son.”
    Lach shut the power off with a wink and a great deal of regret. He could have gone further. He’d felt them all in that moment. He’d felt all the dead things of the palace rising again. He’d felt the animals lying dead in the fields and around the palace courtyard, small and large. He sensed the goblins who had died in a recent sickness. He’d felt the ogre they’d killed but days ago stir. He’d felt them all and realized he could have an army.
    And then he’d felt a softer stirring and a gentle whisper.
    No, Lachlan. Let the dead rest, son.
    His mother. He’d reached out and caught his mother asleep forever in her tomb.
    Lach fell back into his seat, his hands shaking with fear. Fear of what he could become.
    The sluagh smiled, a ghastly thing. “You begin to see, Your Highness.”
    His father was suddenly at his side. “What have you done to my son?”
    Beck Finn was there, too, studying him. “How has your power manifested without the bond? We were told you refused to bond.”
    “We bonded long ago, but our mate is trapped on the Seelie plane.” Shim stared at the Seelie king, waiting to be laughed at.
    “Fuck me, they’re powerful,” Cian Finn said, his eyes wide. “They couldn’t have taken on the full bond, yet they’re able to do all of this.” He frowned. “Could you leave supper alone next time? I don’t think I can eat that thing now.”
    Lach had to smile a bit.