Bound

  A Faery Story

  Bound

  Megan Starke has never been special to anyone. With an

  unrewarding job and a failed marriage, no one would confuse her

  life with a fairy tale. So when she is kidnapped and taken to a

  magical world to be the grand prize in a fierce and bloody

  tournament, she isn’t sure if she is in a dream or a nightmare.

  Beckett Finn was supposed to be Prince Charming. He and his

  brother, Cian, were to inherit the throne of the Seelie Fae and rule

  over a fantasy kingdom. But the thrust of a traitor’s blade stole

  that future. Now the brothers are fading, cursed by their royal

  blood unless they find a mate who can restore them. When Beck

  sees Meg, her body calls to him and he knows she is the key to

  their salvation.

  Bound by passion and fate, it’s time for Meg to find her happily

  ever after.

  Genre: Contemporary, Fantasy, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 99,544 words

  BOUND

  A Faery Story

  Sophie Oak

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  BOUND

  Copyright © 2011 by Sophie Oak

  E-book ISBN: 1-61034-465-0

  First E-book Publication: April 2011

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be

  reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including

  electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without

  express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance

  to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Bound by Sophie Oak from

  BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank

  you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or

  group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing

  rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this

  book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying

  readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Sophie Oak’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect

  Ms. Oak’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  For my girls. Every time I write a heroine, I think of you, my

  daughters. You girls are everything I could want in a heroine – smart

  and honest, loyal and brave. May you both find your happy ever

  afters, my loves.

  Now put the book down. Until you’re at least thirty. Forty. Just

  put the book down…

  BOUND

  A Faery Story

  SOPHIE OAK

  Copyright © 2011

  Chapter One

  Once upon a time, in a land closer than you would think…

  The light made her eyes burn, so she was happy for the enormous

  shadow that suddenly blocked the sun. As her vision adjusted, she

  realized that the shadow had the most piercing eyes she’d ever seen.

  Meg Starke shrank back in fear. Well, she shrank back as far as the

  chains binding her would allow.

  A deep voice said something in a lilting language she didn’t

  understand, and suddenly, the curtain to the tent dropped. She could

  see again. The shadow was a man, a beautiful, terrifying man.

  “She does not speak Gaelic, Your Highness,” the small man who

  served as her jailer said softly.

  The dark man grimaced and immediately switched to English. “I

  have no title here, Rhys. Speak to me as you would any other

  customer.” He looked at her straight in the eyes for the first time. She

  felt a thrill of excitement. Not excitement. Fear. The racing of her

  heart had to be fear, right? Meg couldn’t figure it out, but she knew

  the huge man in front of her made her do the one thing she was

  worried she might never do again—feel.

  Bound

  9

  “What’s your name then, love?” His voice rolled over her skin,

  even from across the tent.

  “My name is Twenty to Life because that’s the time you’ll do for

  kidnapping me, you son of a bitch.” Meg was sick of being terrified.

  The last couple of days washed over her. Her kidnapping couldn’t be

  erased because the man in front of her had a lovely voice. She had

  been hauled straight off the streets of Fort Worth and taken god knew

  where. She’d been stripped naked, bathed, and chained into some

  form of medieval torture device. She pulled again at the chains that

  bound her hands over her head, but they would not move.

  Meg waited for the broad man to strike her, wanting to get it over

  with. She had been unconscious for quite a while, but she didn’t think

  it could have been more than a full day since her kidnapping. She still

  remembered that moment when the tall, thin man had laid his cold

  hands on her. She’d looked up into his bloodred eyes and then

  recalled nothing until she woke up in this place.

  After the initial assault, she had been shocked to find herself

  treated with something akin to reverence. The small men and women

  who acted as
her jailers had been nothing but tender when it came to

  her person. Her small cell, one of several in the large tent, had been

  lined with pillows and sumptuous blankets. The chains she was bound

  in now had a lining to protect her skin, and though she stood naked,

  the little jailers had been discrete.

  Even the food had been tempting, but Meg had seen enough crazy

  serial killer movies to know that eventually someone was going to

  smack her, rape her, and then potentially gut her. It looked like that

  was the big, hot guy’s job. She waited to feel the terrible blow that

  would likely signal the end of her life, but the man with the pitch

  black hair simply smiled. His sensual lips spread to show even, white

  teeth. Meg had to catch her breath. When he smiled, he was

  devastating.

  “All right then, Twenty,” the man allowed in his lilting accent.

  “My name is Beckett, but you can call me Beck. And my mother was

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  Sophie Oak

  actually quite nice. I would prefer you didn’t curse her. Yell at me all

  you like, but let’s leave my mother out of it. Tell me, love, why

  should I purchase you instead of these other lovely women?”

  Meg let her eyes grow round as saucers. “I’m being sold?

  Someone is selling me like a piece of fucking meat?”

  Beck shook his head. “Language there, darlin’. You’re in a

  market, trussed up like a pretty, plump pigeon. Did you think you

  were just hanging on the chains for show?”

  “Your…I apologize, sir. The girl is rather ignorant,” said the small

  man named Rhys. He barely came to Beck’s waist. Compared to

  Beck, he looked like a boy. A boy with a bushy beard and a pointy red

  cap. All the jailers wore them.

  “I am not ignorant, asshole.” Meg wasn’t sure why the other

  women weren’t screaming at the violation of their persons, but there

  was no way she was going out without a fight. “I have two, count

  them, two degrees. I have a bachelor’s in both History and English

  Literature.” Combined, they had only been enough to get her a job

  managing a software store, but, by god, she had them. Of course, now

  she wished she’d chucked her college education in favor of some self-

  defense training. She was pretty sure her knowledge of Chaucer and

  the War of 1812 wouldn’t help her out of her current dilemma.

  “I did not mean it that way.” Rhys’s fists clenched in obvious

  frustration. Meg noticed that he always tried to maintain a soft tone

  when speaking to her. He was polite, even when she cursed him. “The

  girl is obviously intelligent, though lacking in any kind of manners.

  She is from the Earth plane.”

  Beck turned from the smaller man and back to her, his mouth

  hanging slightly open. He stared at her, as though he couldn’t quite

  process the words. It gave Meg a chance to study him.

  He was tall. He had to be at least six foot four. He would tower

  over her. Meg herself was only five foot five, and a rather rounded

  one at that. The god in front of her didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.

  He was broad-shouldered. His arms were thick with muscle, though

  Bound

  11

  he didn’t look like some steroid-crazy gym guy. He’d earned his

  muscles. Meg would bet he hadn’t earned them pumping iron. He

  worked, and at hard, most likely physical, labor. His skin was bronzed

  from the sun.

  If his body was heavenly, then Meg didn’t know how to describe

  his face. It was all sharp planes and harsh angles that came together to

  form something truly beautiful. His jaw looked like it was carved out

  of granite. But his eyes were like soft, gray stones in his face. He was,

  without a doubt, the loveliest man she had ever seen.

  It was too bad he was obviously insane. Beck looked like an

  escapee from a Renaissance fair, with his open-necked, linen shirt

  under a leather vest. His trousers were made from some sort of animal

  skin, as were the boots that came to his knees. Meg could see a sword

  peeking from behind his shoulder, held by a scabbard across his back.

  “Is she really from the Earth plane?” Beck asked.

  “Yes, sir. You can see why I called you.” They both stared at her

  like she was some rare exotic creature at a zoo.

  Suspicion tickled at Meg’s consciousness. Why exactly was she

  here? She’d read articles about human trafficking. She bit her lower

  lip and looked at the five other girls in the tent with her. They were

  trussed up in the same fashion, though these women kept their heads

  lowered and complied with their jailers’ requests. Earlier this

  morning, they had been taken out of their cages and chained up for

  what seemed like some sort of presentation. Beck had been the first

  man to come through the tent. “You shouldn’t buy me. I’m not very

  pretty. The other girls are prettier. They’re thinner, too.”

  They were, Meg acknowledged. The other women were all

  blondes. They looked like something out of a Swedish high fashion

  magazine. Meg knew she was a little overweight. She carried around

  an extra five or ten pounds that never seemed to go away. She was an

  overblown hourglass in a world where svelte was worshipped.

  Beck frowned. It did nothing to mar the perfection of his face.

  “Are you cruel, then, love? Funny, I wouldn’t have thought that of

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  Sophie Oak

  you. It’s mean to point out their flaws. They can’t help that they don’t

  get enough to eat. Why do you think they’re here selling themselves?”

  “You don’t want her, Your Highness,” a soft voice said. Meg

  looked over to see the blonde nearest her staring at Beck. “She is

  vicious. She yells at the little ones and is cruel to them. You cannot

  mean to make her yours. I would be thrilled to belong to you.”

  Meg rolled her eyes, the gesture obviously not lost on Beck. He

  shook his head and looked slightly disappointed in her. Meg was

  surprised to discover she didn’t like him looking at her that way.

  He walked over to the young, waifish blonde. “She is not from

  this plane. She is frightened. Allowances must be made. I hope you all

  find kind mates today. I hope your masters value you all for the

  precious gift you give them, but I must find a bondmate.”

  Beck gave Rhys a hand gesture that sent the smaller man into

  action. Within seconds, drapes were drawn, and Meg found herself in

  a private room with only Beck inside. The sunlight poured in through

  a hole in the top of the elaborate tent that seemed to function as some

  sort of skylight. Now that they were alone, it felt like a spotlight. She

  was painfully aware of her unclothed state. She could feel her nipples

  puckering under his steely gaze.

  “It is not kind to flaunt your beauty to less fortunate women. I will

  not allow you to be cruel.” Beck’s voice was deep and allowed no

  room for disrespect. Meg found herself rushing to explain.

  “I don’t understand.” She was frustrated and could hear it in her

  tone. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. I wanted you to buy one of the

 
others. I’ve decided you might be very difficult to get away from. I

  thought you would do it because they’re prettier than me.”

  Beck’s handsome face bunched up as he seemed to mull her

  words. “On what plane are they prettier than you?” He laughed.

  “Sorry, love, I do remember hearing stories of where you come from.

  Food there is plentiful, yet the women starve because the men won’t

  take care of them.”

  Bound

  13

  “It’s not like that,” Meg argued. “That girl you talked to, she

  would be considered a great beauty on my plane.”

  “But I would have to feed her for a month before I’d even

  consider bedding her,” Beck muttered. “I don’t understand humans.

  Do human males not like breasts?”

  He asked that last bit with a distinct huskiness to his voice. His

  hand came out, and he palmed one breast, his thumb rasping over the

  nipple.

  Meg felt the caress shoot from her breast to her pussy like

  lightning. “Oh, please, don’t.”

  Beck moved in, his big body crowding her as his other hand

  reached up. The sunlight hit his face. His gray eyes were heating up,

  and he ran his tongue over his lips to wet them. He seemed to be a

  man about to enjoy a good meal. He caressed both breasts with a

  languid sigh.

  He breathed deeply, his nose at the top of her head. “And why

  not? How will I know if we’re compatible if I don’t touch you, love?

  If I’m going to pay this much for a female, then I want to be very sure

  I’m getting what we need.”

  Meg didn’t even think about the “we” part of that sentence

  because Beck’s warm hands were trailing a path across her skin as he

  looked her over. His fingertips brushed her nipples just before closing

  over them. He pinched the nubs. It was just the right side of pain. Her

  nipples peaked, sensitized to his touch. Meg knew she should protest,