Shadowbound (The Shadow Fae #3) Read Online Evangeline Anderson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The Shadow Fae Series by Evangeline Anderson
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
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What I see makes me feel sick. Alaric is so young in his dream—just a little, tow-headed boy. He is stripped to the waist in a dark room and an evil, crazy old man is hurting him—burning him over and over with a brand! Alaric is crying—begging for his mother, begging not to be hurt or burned but the evil old bastard won’t leave him alone. He just keeps shouting about the glory of their fucking GodKing!

I don’t usually curse or get angry, but this scene from my Paladin’s past horrifies me. I reached for him but he swings and I barely jump back in time. He doesn’t know his own strength—not asleep as he is now. I must break him out of this dream and calm him.

Carefully, I gauge his movements and then rush in and touch his forehead at the right moment. I murmur the words of a Dispersement spell, banishing the evil memories from his mind and breaking the power of the dream. Then I call his name.

“Mistress?” he looks up at me uncertainly and I see there are still tears in his eyes. My heart burns again for his younger self—that little boy I saw being tortured in the dark room.

“Come to bed with me,” I tell him. “I’ll make sure the dream doesn’t return.”

I know I’ll be breaking my own rules about letting a Blood-servant come to bed with me, but I can’t leave him alone again—not after what I saw.

He staggers to his feet, towering over me, a mountain of muscle in the darkened room. So much power contained in a huge and impressive package. Yet in my mind’s eye, I can’t help seeing that frightened little boy.

“Come,” I tell him again and lead him to bed.

He crawls under the covers with me and I wrap my arms around him and pull his head down to my breasts. I call upon my power and pour peace through him, easing the terror of the dream.

“Gods, Mistress…” He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, pressing his face to my breasts. His big body is shaking against mine—I feel it and it makes me sad—so sad for that little boy he once was. I feel tears stinging my eyes as I hold him.

My own mother was cruel to me, but not physically—with her it was the emotional distance she kept between us—the coldness that was always there when all I wanted was to be held, the same way I’m holding my Paladin now.

Alaric is more awake now and he looks up at me, his eyes uncertain in the dimness.

“That dream…that fucking dream—I haven’t had it in fucking months,” he growls. “Thought I didn’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“Do you have it often, then?” I ask him.

He shakes his head.

“Not as often as the others—the fucking sex dreams.”

The Jewel of Knowing pulses at my temple and I see what he means. He’s been denying himself for years, so of course his body craves release. The only place that can happen is in his sleep, since he’s always rigidly controlled when he’s awake.

“You asked the blacksmith to make you a sheath studded with spikes to keep from getting hard at night and giving in to the dreams,” I murmur, unable to understand this level of self-harm and pain.

“It was the only way to keep from fucking coming in my sleep every night,” he growls. “Those dreams are the most common. But the other one…” He squeezes his eyes tight for a moment and I see the pain on his face.

“What happened to him—that horrible priest?” I ask fiercely. “I hope he was hung for what he did to you!”

“Well, he did get his ‘just desserts.’” His voice in the dim room is dry. “The first time my Celestial Fire came out, I blew him to fucking Kingdom Come.” He gives a harsh laugh. “So much for ‘building the Holy Fire.’”

“Good!” I exclaim. “I’m glad of it! How dare he hurt an innocent child like that?”

“He was just trying to bring out my power so I could serve the GodKing,” Alaric protests.

But I see the pain on his face and feel the deep shiver that runs through his big, muscular body. The memory haunts him and the dream is only a symptom of the agony and terror inflicted on his younger self. It lingers with him still.

I want to heal him. I have a number of healing spells—I studied them on my own, of course. My mother had no interest in such things but I have amassed quite a collection. And of course, I know where I can find the best spell for this moment.

I start to get off the bed but Alaric’s arms tighten around me.

“Where are you going?” he demands. “I don’t want you to leave.”


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