Read Online The Dark Huntsman: A Fantasy Romance of The Black Court (Tales of The Black Court Book 1) by Jessica Aspen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jessica Aspen
Tags: fantasy romance series, paranormal romance trilogy, paranormal romance witches, elven romance, fairytale romance for adults, fantasy romance with sex
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his long, elegant fingers and a rolled-up piece of parchment appeared in his hands. He extended it out to her.
She swallowed, trying to move the sand in her throat. She’d never seen anyone do magic like that. Like breathing. She took the parchment.
Securing the blanket under her arms and keeping a wary eye on the elf, Trina moved over to a small table in the corner of the room. His negligent position, hands clasped behind his back as if he had all the time in the world, set her teeth on edge.
She struggled to untie the stiff black cord with one shaking hand. The paper was made of thick vellum and reluctant to unroll. The swirling writing and atrocious spelling written in a thick, black, textured ink were difficult to decipher. It started with yesterday's date and “ To whome it maye concern… ”
It stated she was Logan Ni Brennan's indentured servant for one year and a day, and she was to give service of any sort he required in exchange for her life. He was to provide two sets of clothing, one pair of shoes, food, and shelter, as well as any medical care she might need. At the end of the time period the contract could be renegotiated, or she would be free to go. At which point, Logan would be required to bring her to the location of her choice. Above her signature, it stated if at any point she violated the contract, her life was the penalty.
The tightness in her chest threatened to rise up and swallow her whole. The room grew dim.
Trina took a breath, then another. The parchment rattled in her grip as the third breath wheezed out of her lungs and the room faded back in. Elbows tucked tight to keep the blanket in place, she shook the contract in his arrogant face.
“I didn't sign this!”
Chapter Five
“Are you trying to break our bargain?” Her captor’s brogue grew heavy and strange as he stalked toward Trina, all pretense of indolence gone. She shrank back into the corner while he sucked up the room’s space and left her nowhere to hide.
He leaned in, forcing her retreat. Her back pressed into the hard wooden knobs of the dresser.
“You agreed. Your signature was placed magically. You, Trina MacElvy, signed to prevent your death, so if you go back on your word the final outcome would be that which you signed to prevent.” He swooped in, so close she could taste the smell of green mint on his breath and see the intensity of his eyes. “Death.”
Power swirled through her bones, building up in response to his threat.
He placed his cheek next to hers and breathed warm words into her ear. “Think carefully of what you do, witch.”
The parchment rattled in her shaking hands. He moved his mouth away from her ear, skimmed her cheek, and hovered over her lips. Sweet, soft breath caressed her face. Her tongue darted out to moisten dry lips and his gaze flicked down, his large pupils darkening with arousal.
A mix of fear and sexual desire coursed through her bloodstream, speeding the pounding of her heart, her blood roaring hot in her ears. His cock pressed against her thigh and she almost keened with the knowledge that she wanted to look, wanted to touch, wanted him hot and hard inside her.
Her enemy.
His blue, blue gaze penetrated deep into hers, reflecting acknowledgment of her excitement, and her fear.
He straightened up and snatched the contract back. Trina sagged against the dresser, bit her lip, and attempted to regain her balance, her breath, and her brains.
“It seems I have little choice,” she finally got out, “I should have known a fae wouldn’t bargain fairly.”
She had to keep him at arm’s length for her own sanity and safety. Not only did she have to spend a year with him fighting off his innate elven attraction, but she would be dependent on him for everything. Everything , she thought, refusing to analyze the responding quiver deep inside.
“It says shelter in there. I require my own room to feel sheltered. If this isn’t it, then you have to provide it.” She
She swallowed, trying to move the sand in her throat. She’d never seen anyone do magic like that. Like breathing. She took the parchment.
Securing the blanket under her arms and keeping a wary eye on the elf, Trina moved over to a small table in the corner of the room. His negligent position, hands clasped behind his back as if he had all the time in the world, set her teeth on edge.
She struggled to untie the stiff black cord with one shaking hand. The paper was made of thick vellum and reluctant to unroll. The swirling writing and atrocious spelling written in a thick, black, textured ink were difficult to decipher. It started with yesterday's date and “ To whome it maye concern… ”
It stated she was Logan Ni Brennan's indentured servant for one year and a day, and she was to give service of any sort he required in exchange for her life. He was to provide two sets of clothing, one pair of shoes, food, and shelter, as well as any medical care she might need. At the end of the time period the contract could be renegotiated, or she would be free to go. At which point, Logan would be required to bring her to the location of her choice. Above her signature, it stated if at any point she violated the contract, her life was the penalty.
The tightness in her chest threatened to rise up and swallow her whole. The room grew dim.
Trina took a breath, then another. The parchment rattled in her grip as the third breath wheezed out of her lungs and the room faded back in. Elbows tucked tight to keep the blanket in place, she shook the contract in his arrogant face.
“I didn't sign this!”
Chapter Five
“Are you trying to break our bargain?” Her captor’s brogue grew heavy and strange as he stalked toward Trina, all pretense of indolence gone. She shrank back into the corner while he sucked up the room’s space and left her nowhere to hide.
He leaned in, forcing her retreat. Her back pressed into the hard wooden knobs of the dresser.
“You agreed. Your signature was placed magically. You, Trina MacElvy, signed to prevent your death, so if you go back on your word the final outcome would be that which you signed to prevent.” He swooped in, so close she could taste the smell of green mint on his breath and see the intensity of his eyes. “Death.”
Power swirled through her bones, building up in response to his threat.
He placed his cheek next to hers and breathed warm words into her ear. “Think carefully of what you do, witch.”
The parchment rattled in her shaking hands. He moved his mouth away from her ear, skimmed her cheek, and hovered over her lips. Sweet, soft breath caressed her face. Her tongue darted out to moisten dry lips and his gaze flicked down, his large pupils darkening with arousal.
A mix of fear and sexual desire coursed through her bloodstream, speeding the pounding of her heart, her blood roaring hot in her ears. His cock pressed against her thigh and she almost keened with the knowledge that she wanted to look, wanted to touch, wanted him hot and hard inside her.
Her enemy.
His blue, blue gaze penetrated deep into hers, reflecting acknowledgment of her excitement, and her fear.
He straightened up and snatched the contract back. Trina sagged against the dresser, bit her lip, and attempted to regain her balance, her breath, and her brains.
“It seems I have little choice,” she finally got out, “I should have known a fae wouldn’t bargain fairly.”
She had to keep him at arm’s length for her own sanity and safety. Not only did she have to spend a year with him fighting off his innate elven attraction, but she would be dependent on him for everything. Everything , she thought, refusing to analyze the responding quiver deep inside.
“It says shelter in there. I require my own room to feel sheltered. If this isn’t it, then you have to provide it.” She
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