The Sidhe are great shapeshifters. In fact, their kingdoms are divided by beasts—sub-races of the Sidhe race. The Sidhe can manipulate natural magic in addition to transforming into animals, but when they fought, they usually did so in beast form. There are twelve sub-races of Sidhe, split into three animal families—the Canines are the Wolves, Jackals, Foxes, and Coyotes; the Felines are Lions, Tigers, Leopards, and Lynx; and the Avians are Hawks, Eagles, Owls, and Falcons. The twelve great kingdoms of Varalorre. I don't know much more about them, even though I'm a scholar. But then, no human does. I can tell you that out of all the Fae races, the Sidhe are the most human in appearance.
The Unsidhe are closer to the Farungal in looks. Some have claws and tails and fangs that are more monstrous than bestial. Still, they fought for us. The Trolls, Red Caps, Goblins, Sylphs, and so forth. All the creatures of Varalorre that humans feared despite the help they gave us. I think we feared them because they reminded us so much of the monsters who tortured me. The Farungal with their poisonous, barbed tails and venomous fangs. Their spindly limbs and sin-black skin. Their knife-like claws that even now cut through my tender human flesh.
I shrieked as the Queen bent to lick my blood from my naked thigh. Then she lifted a jar and opened it. I whimpered and shook my head even before the acrid scent hit me. The contents of that jar were the source of my worst tortures—an evil substance that hardened my cock despite my fear and revulsion. She called it wild-rot and said that if she didn't take pity on me and fuck me, I would rot. The magic needed to be fed and if it wasn't fed with sex, it would consume my flesh instead.
The Queen smoothed a small smear of wild-rot on my member and it hardened instantly. I closed my eyes and blocked out the sight of her climbing onto my prone body. They had chained me to the floor this time. The chains were slack enough that I could have sat up, but she held me down with her thin arms as her wet sex consumed mine. My body, ravaged by torture and starved to gauntness, trembled beneath the wild pounding of her hips.
“Open your eyes, human!” She commanded.
I opened my eyes because to disobey would only lead to more torture or, even worse, she might decide to let the rot have me. There had been other humans in the cells around me. She had used them as leverage too, especially my lover. She threatened to torture him if I didn't behave. But she had killed my fellow prisoners one by one, sacrificing them in some kind of evil ritual. And she had painted me with their blood when she was done. The last to die had been my sweet Gerald. His pleas would haunt me for as long as my wretched life continued. She had delighted in painting me with his blood and watching it destroy a part of my soul. I could feel pieces of myself slipping away even now—my mind breaking. I knew that even if I survived this, I would never be the same.
“That's it,” the Queen monster purred as she opened her dress. Her meager breasts bounced with her movements and she grabbed them, pinching her own nipples as she moaned. “You have a wonderful cock, human. Once I make you into my prince, it will be even more glorious—heavy and thick like a bull's dick. I will suck it for you then. Pleasure you every night after you spew your poison over Stalana.”
“No,” I whimpered.
She'd been telling me for days—or had it been weeks?—about how she would curse me and transform me into a creature that would spread evil over the world and destroy all the humans and the Fae. Every day she taunted me with my destiny. She wove her tales of slaughter as she rode my cock until it gave up its seed. She sliced me with her nails and drank my blood as she tried to hypnotize me with her hatred. She thought she could make me want it. That if she pleasured me as she poisoned my ears with her venomous stories, I would somehow turn into her monster even before she cast her curse.
But I wouldn't let her destroy me. And I wouldn't let her destroy my world. As she moaned her way into another climax, I vowed to myself that I would die before becoming her weapon. I would find a way to end my existence and then she could go fuck herself.
Maybe it was madness coming for me at last, but I started to smile.
About the Author
Amy Sumida is the Internationally Acclaimed author of the Award-Winning Godhunter Series, the fantasy paranormal Twilight Court Series, the Beyond the Godhunter Series, the music-oriented paranormal Spellsinger Series, the superhero Spectra Series, and several short stories. Her books have been translated into several languages, have won numerous awards, and are bestsellers. She believes in empowering people through her writing as well as providing everyone with a great escape from reality. Her stories are full of hot gods, shapeshifters, vampires, dragons, fairies, gargoyles... pretty much any type of supernatural, breathtakingly gorgeous man you can think of. Because why have normal when you could have paranormal?
Born and raised in Hawaii, Amy made a perilous journey across the ocean with six cats to settle in the beautiful state of Oregon which reminds her a lot of Hawaii but without the cockroaches or evil sand. When she isn't trying to type fast enough to get down everything the voices in her head are saying while her kitties try to sabotage her with cuteness, she enjoys painting on canvases, walls, and anything else that will sit still long enough for the paint to dry. She's fueled by tea, inspired by music, and spends most of her time listening to the voices in her head.
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