The Monster in the Closet

Monsters in the Dark, Volume Two

Rebekah Lewis

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

More Books by Rebekah Lewis

About the Author

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2017 by Rebekah Lewis

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

www.Rebekah-Lewis.com

To the readers who stick with me when real life demands I step away from writing. To those same readers who know there are more stories to tell and are waiting when I can finally tell them.

Thank you.

Chapter 1

"I'm late!" Phoebe shouted as she glanced at her phone. She'd thought she'd be able to do her own make-up, but that had been a mistake. She'd had to remove the carnage three times and start over. So much for online tutorial videos. Instead, she ended up doing a simple coppery-brown eyeshadow and mascara, foregoing the eyeliner. Some women had gift when it came to make-up, but her only talent was to screw things up. Now she was late to her favorite party of the year, one of the few she actually attended.

Every Halloween night, her former sorority threw a fairytale themed costume party, and she was invited back as an alumna. This year was Beauty and the Beast, where the women were encouraged to dress like princesses and the men like monsters. Of course, everyone could wear whatever costume they wanted, but most partygoers did follow the theme. For weeks, Phoebe had been dying to go. Her boyfriend of three months needed more convincing. Adam hated costumes. Then again, he hated a lot of things.

Like when she didn't wear make-up in public. It was why she'd been trying so damned hard. She shouldn't, she knew that, yet there she was. Trying to please a man who was perpetually unhappy. Sighing, she put the cosmetics back in the bag by the sink and hurried into the bedroom to finish dressing.

She'd gone overboard on sexy lingerie, hoping Adam would enjoy peeling it off of her when they returned home. A lacy, cream colored thong and matching thigh-high stockings and garter belt, paired with an eggshell bustier that tied in the back like a corset and she looked like she belonged in a catalogue. Or a porno. Depended on how the party went!

She tugged on a poofy petticoat to give her dress shape, and then stepped into glittery golden heels. Her gown had to be put on in two pieces, white with a layer of gold that sparkled and shimmered in the light. She had her dark hair half up in the back, and she couldn't wait to see the look on Adam's face when he saw her.

Phoebe pulled the string to the closet light to turn it off, exited, and then started to close the door, but paused. In the back of the closet, a shape hovered like a shadow darker than the other shadows around it. She'd seen it a few times since moving in to this apartment a couple months ago. If she turned the light back on, nothing was ever there, and she couldn't figure out what was throwing that shadow to move it. She shrugged and closed the door, checking that it would stay shut. Blasted thing sometimes opened on its own, and then she would creep herself out thinking there was something watching her.

"Just your mind playing tricks on you," she muttered and grabbed her handbag and phone. She texted Adam to remind him to leave work and go to the party. Poor thing cared more about accounts and finances at his company than fun.

* * *

Where the hell was Adam? Phoebe shifted from foot to foot and tried to see over the heads of dozens of costumed partiers. Her shoes were amazing in looks, but not so much on the balls of her feet. She'd kill for some bedroom slippers. Adam hadn't arrived yet, and she was getting burned out on socializing. Her feet hurt, and she wore all this sexy stuff under her dress because she thought she would get some action tonight while she felt and looked like a princess, but apparently not.

Sighing, she headed up to one of the rooms on the second floor where their coats were kept so she could achieve a bit of solitude. She closed the door and ambled over to the bed to sit and pulled her cell phone out of her clutch. Once the pressure was off her feet, she moaned with contentment. Phoebe didn't dare kick the shoes off though, or putting them back on would be ten times worse. Instead, she tried to call Adam, but it went straight to voicemail. "Where are you?" she all but snarled before she hung up. Then she checked her messages, and shocker there—nothing new.

The squeak of a door came softly from her right and she gasped. The closet gaped open and she squinted, trying to determine if there was someone in there. Had she interrupted people making out, or worse, picking the pockets of the coats left on the bed?

When the heater kicked on, she laughed at herself. It was just the house being an old house. There wasn't a monster lurking in the closet here or at her own apartment. Monsters didn't exist. Feeling foolish, Phoebe gathered her wits and exited the room. It was nice to have a moment to herself without people, but she wasn't up to continue pretending she was happy when she had no idea if Adam planned to show up. The rejection had effectively ruined the evening.

Why couldn't she find someone who appreciated her? Who wanted to go places and do things? Who actually answered when she called? It didn't seem like too much to ask to be wanted, desired. To have the notion someone's world wouldn't be complete without her in it.

Phoebe blinked back tears, collected her coat, and then headed down the stairs toward the front door. She said quick goodbyes and made a beeline to her car. Once inside, she let out the tears she'd been holding in and texted a brief break up message to Adam. She was done with his shit. It was time to live for herself. If he didn't want her, she was done waiting on him to change his mind. It was over between them, and she hoped he was mad when he saw the text.

When she lifted her head, movement in the shadows caught her eye within the trees in front of the right side of her car. She squinted. A large animal stood in the shadows, obscured from full view. It had the shape of a stag, and she could faintly make out its antlers. Oh, to be wild and not worry about anything but what nature intended. Phoebe started the car and headlights illuminated the area where the stag had been.

There was nothing there.

Chapter 2

Men. Who needed them? Phoebe entered her apartment and slammed the door shut behind her. Never more grateful to live on the ground floor than when her night had been shitty. First, she would change out of these clothes, then take a shower and down a quart of ice cream. Perhaps not in that order. She wiped her face. She'd had to pull over twice from crying so hard that mascara had burned her eyes.

Phoebe sniffled and headed down the short hallway to the bathroom and quickly cleaned off the remnants of her make-up. She glanced at her reflection and cried harder. All that effort to look beautiful for that jerk and he didn't even show. He'd stood her up and couldn't call and tell her or give her a reason. Not even some bullshit excuse. Was he cheating on her, or was she just undesirable to him? He had always wanted to fix her. Cut your hair. Don't eat that cookie or you'll get fat. You should wear make-up more. Get your teeth whitened. Have you considered breast implants? Phoebe wrapped her arms around herself and fought back another wave of tears. Adam didn't deserve them.

She froze as the thuds of soft footsteps sounded from the other side of the wall between the bathroom and bedroom. "Adam?" She turned around, wiping at her nose with a tissue and tossing it in the wastebasket. "Is that you?" Maybe he had come to surprise her—and get his ass thrown out of her apartment. Jerk.

She stepped into the hall and reached into the bedroom to flip the light switch. Phoebe peeked around the corner. "Adam?" The closet door stood wide open in an empty room when she knew she'd closed it before going to the party. Without thinking, she ran to the living room and grabbed her phone and keys. She didn't stop to lock the apartment, but fled straight to her car. Once she was inside, she slammed the lock down and then called the cops.

* * *

They hadn't believed her. No sign of forced entry and nothing stolen, so they claimed the only way someone had gone in and opened her closet would be if they had a key. Phoebe had heard footsteps though, but she couldn't prove it. A female officer noticed she had a puffy face from crying and had asked if anything traumatic happened, so she told her about Adam not showing for the party and breaking up with him. Naturally, the conclusion was Adam had tried to scare her and the officer suggested Phoebe spend the night with a friend and change the locks in the morning.

Sound advice, if that was what happened. She'd know if it'd been Adam. He had no problems yelling at her when he was dissatisfied. If he cared enough that she'd broken up with him via text message, she'd hear it from him. He wouldn't waste his time creeping around her apartment for entertainment.

Defeated, Phoebe went back into her apartment, kicked off her shoes and headed to her bedroom. All she wanted to do was sleep. She glanced at her phone as she placed it on the charger. Noticing she had a text from Adam, she thumbed it open to her inbox and sorrow ripped at the tatters of her heart. He hadn't argued his case over their break up. He hadn't tried to reason with her. All he'd written was, "Ok." Two simple letters of acceptance, not even the entire word, was all Adam had spared for the end of their relationship.

Not bothering with the lights, she started to strip out of her clothes. The top of the dress required a bit of effort to remove—way more than it had to put on—but she managed. Then she flung it at the hamper in the corner with a little more aggression than intended. The skirt came next, leaving her in her petticoat and lingerie, which she had worn for absolutely nothing.

"I should go out and sleep with a random stranger to spite you, Adam. You prick." She worked the clasp on her necklace and removed it. Then her earrings, placing both on the dresser by her purse. "I'm a mess, and apparently I'm not attractive enough to keep a man, so who would want me?" Her reflection scowled back at her, or it would have if she could make out her features in the dark. The outline of the open closet door behind her was discernible though, so she glared at it. "And you," she accused. "Why won't you stay shut when I close you?"

"Because then I cannot watch you. Let it be made clear that I want you, and will gladly take you up on your offer."

She gawked at the mirror, unsure if her ears were deceiving her of if her mind had finally snapped. There shouldn't have been a response. For one, her tirade was to expel her frustration by having a conversation with herself. Perfectly normal, even if a little dumb. The masculine voice she heard, however, was not normal at all. In fact, after the police had searched every inch of her apartment and found nobody lurking, a man in her apartment shouldn't be there at all.

All logical thoughts. Perfectly sound reasoning. Yet, there is a man in my closet…

Spinning around, she squinted in the direction of the speaker. Whoever it was had a deep, husky voice and a strange accent. Definitely foreign. "Who's there?" She reached for the bedroom light by the dresser and flipped it on. She didn't see anyone, but the closet stretched farther back than she could see at this angle. Phoebe searched for a weapon, and grabbed a vase of red silk roses. It wouldn't do much, being made of plastic and fiber, but flinging it at an attacker would give her a head start at running away. "I'm warning you…"

Tiptoeing toward the closet, she didn't know what to expect. The door opened inward so she pushed it with her toe until the knob hit the wall. No one was inside unless they were hiding behind her clothes. She went inside, kicking behind her dresses. The door slammed shut behind her. Screaming, she dropped the vase, which only thudded on the carpet at her feet. Phoebe reached up, fumbling for the cord to the light and yanked it when her hand connected with the string. Nothing happened. She yanked again to the same result.

"Looking for this?" The man in the closet grabbed one of her hands in his and placed something into her palm. The lightbulb. He'd unscrewed the lightbulb and waited to ambush her when she came inside. But where had he hidden?

Phoebe didn't ask that question. "Wh-what do you want?"

He circled around her like a predatory cat about to pounce on its prey. She couldn't see anything, but his body heat singed her with awareness of him. His lack of response was more terrifying than knowing what to expect. Finally, he said, "Are you still wanting to sleep with a stranger to punish that fool who didn't deserve you." He ran a knuckle over her cheekbone and she flinched. "The one who made you cry… If you'd like, I could send one of my best to do him great harm. Would his parts as a trophy please you? That can be arranged."

What was he—did he just offer to castrate Adam? "As much as he might deserve it, I do not condone violence." She straightened her backbone. She could sense he was taller than her five-foot-three.

"A pity," he said from behind her. Suddenly she was jerked back against a hard, muscled chest. "About what you said before…"

He thought he could hide in her closet and hold her to something she'd said in annoyance? Ha! "Listen, mister, I don't know who you are or how you got in here, but I will not be doing anything with you. The cops are still outside, so all I have to do is yell." Somehow, she had the feeling he wasn't there to force himself on her. That if he intended to hurt her, he would have done so. She couldn't explain where that instinct came from.

"The men you called to seek me out are long gone, and you must not fear me harming you." His arms were around her, but he wasn't hurting her. He was…embracing her? "When we fuck, it will be when you offer yourself to me. You made your careless offer already, and if I wasn't bound by my good name, I could have taken you up on it." He released her.

Phoebe turned to face him and backed away, against the wall the door would touch when opened completely. "You're delusional if you believe we're…fucking, as you so eloquently put it."

The man chuckled and the warmth of his body suggested that he leaned in close. He brushed her hair out of her face and said, "I imagine you want to leave right now, don't you?"

She didn't respond. She wanted him to leave. It was her closet, damn it.

"I asked you a question. Do you want to leave?"

This guy was weird as hell. "Yes, I want to. Why do you keep asking me that?" The air around her grew colder, but she had more important things to worry about than her heating system.

"I am glad to hear that," the man said and stepped closer. She backed up though she couldn't possibly go farther with the wall behind her—except she did move away from him! One step. Two. Then three. The wall had vanished, and that was enough to finally scare her back to her senses. She shrieked and attempted to run forward, back to where her closet door should be, but the man leaned down, hefted her over his shoulder and kept walking in the direction he'd been herding her.

Chapter 3

"Put me down! Where are you taking me?" Phoebe pounded on his back only to realize the man was naked when her hand connected with a bare hip and buttock. Holy shit, there was a random naked man in my closet. How did the cops miss something like this? Why wasn't there any light? And why did it smell like…minerals? Sulfur maybe… Were they in a cave? More importantly, could she reach her closet if she headed back in the opposite direction?

Her captor palmed her backside and gave it a stinging swat. Phoebe squealed with outrage, which only made him laugh. "Don't dish out what you do not wish to receive." He turned a corner and though she couldn't see anything past the man's waist, a soft glow of light up ahead helped her eyes start adjusting to the dark. "I'm going to leave you with one of the newer females in our clan. She speaks your tongue and can help you acclimate. I must check on some matters, but when I return I trust that you will be prepared for the sacred rites."

The who and what now? "Are you going to sacrifice me to a monster or something? I should warn you, it won't work. I'm not a virgin and I don't have much meat on my bones. I'll be turned down immediately." The light was closer now, but his flesh seemed to blend in with the darkness and shadow. She could barely make out his form until suddenly light surrounded them.

A rumble like a growl vibrated through his chest as he slid her down before him. "This monster would eat you up the moment he had the chance," he teased in a wicked tone.

Phoebe didn't bother with checking out their surroundings. She couldn't pull her gaze away from him. Whoever he was, whatever he was, looked like a figure from a fantasy world. In the gentle light, his skin appeared to be the color of gunmetal, his hair and eyes black as pitch. Two elongated, pointed ears poked out from his waist-length hair—one was pierced with a small onyx hoop. He had an impressive set of antlers on his head, reminding her of a Celtic god, Cernunnos. Only he wasn't furry anywhere—she looked down—and he didn't have hooves, thankfully. She gulped as she started to peruse up his body. He was naked as she'd already surmised, and he was pierced there too. He also sported a perfectly chiseled set of abs which she lingered over longer than she should. When Phoebe glanced up his face again, she couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful he was. Handsome and fierce, yes, but beautiful. What was he? The creature/man smiled, revealing teeth that seemed a little too sharp around the canines but not extremely so.

"Like what you see?" He cupped her cheek and she shuddered at the touch. Who was he? "I can promise you the feeling's mutual." He kept showing her affection and a sort of…adoration she didn't understand. They'd just met.

Footsteps approached from behind her and a female gasped. "My Liege."

Phoebe turned her head and spotted a woman with pale skin and shoulder length pink hair. She curtsied, wearing a shimmery, sheer gray garment and a necklace made of onyx. The woman was barefoot.

"You may rise, Madison," the male creature said. "This is Phoebe. She needs to learn and prepare for the rites tonight. Be sure she understands while I catch up on what has transpired when I was on Midgard."

The woman, Madison, nodded and the man took a few steps away, as though to depart. Then he turned back and pulled Phoebe into his arms. Before she had time to react, he brought his lips against hers. She inhaled sharply at the unexpected act and he slipped his tongue in to taste her. His eyes closed tight and he groaned, retreating a step. "So decadent. Surely all of you will be as sweet." He captured her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips for a delicate kiss. "Soon." This time when he walked away he didn't return, disappearing around the corner of the—

"Oh, my God, it is a cave."

"Yes," Madison said, stepping up beside her. "The caves of Svartalfheim to be exact."

Phoebe barely heard her, gawking around a cavern decked out in plush furs and pillows. Clusters of pale crystals glowed on pedestals made of rock. "Where?"

"Perhaps we should sit down." Madison placed an arm around her and steered her to a bench in a nook cut into the wall and gestured for her to sit. "I should start with my story since it's less…well. It's less. Can you believe it's been a year since I was dragged under my bed and brought to these caves?"

Phoebe's jaw dropped open. "Under the bed?"

The other woman nodded, laughing. "Yup. I had a monster under the bed, and I invited it into my bed, then he tricked me into agreeing to return home with him."

Eyes narrowing, she said, "Like being asked if you wanted to leave 'right now,' and then your closet becomes a damned cave and you're being carried off like a sack of half-priced potatoes in a famine?"

Madison grimaced. "They're really bad about that. They don't like being told no, so they get sneaky. Always pay attention to the wording of their yes or no questions before replying and it's fine. Happiness is a big factor for their mates. They might be tricky, but they aren't cruel."

"Wait, wait, wait." She held up a hand. "Mates?" Everything Madison said sounded stranger by the second, but that word jumped out in her mind, practically in neon, flashing lights.

"Yup. Congratulations, Phoebe of Midgard. You're going to mate with the king of the Dökkálfar." She smiled warmly. "He's been searching for a mate for centuries, by the way. He'd almost given up hope of starting a family."

So many words in that statement were not working for her. Mate? King? Crazy foreign word that she didn't even understand! "King of where? I'm sorry. This is too much to cope with."

Madison snickered, then noticed her expression and said, "Sorry. You're just mirroring all of my own initial reactions, and it's making me remember how much I resented coming here until…" She bit her lip and looked away.

Intrigued, Phoebe prodded, "Well, don't leave me hanging. Until what?"

"Okay, so long story short, the Dökkálfar—dark elves—live in caves because the sky on Svartalfheim is so dark that, over the centuries, it changed the genetic pigments in their skin tones so they basically look like shadows in the absence of light. The only light that doesn't hurt them comes from these crystals that are mined in the caves here." She gestured around and leaned closer, conspiratorially. "Because dark elves can't go out in the light, they couldn't go after the last of their women. Female dark elves stopped being born after a time, and the males had to resort to taking human women to mate and breed with to continue their line, but it only works when the woman is the right match. A mate to continue their line."

Madison sat up straight again and added, "Some, like the king, are ancient and full-blooded dark elf. Others, like my mate, are half-human. Human women are who taught them English. Oh, and when you mate with elves you're linked to their life force and stay in the state you were in at the time. That is how I ended up with permanently pink hair…which is awesome, by the way." She fluffed the bright magenta hair that had fallen over her shoulder.

Phoebe was still struggling with one phrase: Mate and breed. What the hell did this king dude think she was, a broodmare? She tried to respond but only vowel sounds came out, so she snapped her mouth shut.

"It's really not terrible here, Phoebe," Madison promised. "Everyone is pretty nice and there hasn't been a war with another realm in a few centuries. Regardless, the women are taught archery and how to throw and fight with knives. It's fun."

Phoebe blinked. "What if I want to go home or contact a family member?" Did she really want to live in a cave forever?

The other woman smiled sadly. "If it makes you feel any better, the human women and the elves created a computer using magic and crystals. You can access the Internet even though you aren't on Midgard anymore. Movies, books, music. We have a much more enjoyable life here without taxes or bills or car payments."

Phoebe choked and sputtered, leaping to her stockinged feet. She was walking around in a bustier, petticoat, and stockings while Madison looked like she was wearing some sci-fi lingerie of her own, talking about this grand life in an elf cult or something. Was this a weird fetish dream? "I-I don't want to use magical Wi-Fi. I don't want to mate or breed or learn archery. I want to go home."

"Do you?"

Phoebe whirled around. The elf king leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a brow arched, and he was…completely aroused. Her eyes widened as she realized where he planned on sticking that appendage, and the part of her that had been raised as an independent woman with her own goals and career wanted to give him a piece of her mind. The primitive part of her that lusted and desired, however, perked the hell up on high alert. Her primitive half was a traitor.

A second dark elf stood at his side, and he wore the same gauzy gray material as Madison, fashioned into a sleeveless robe or tunic. It revealed as much as it covered, and he was equally as beautiful as his king. He shared the long dark hair and gunmetal skin tone, but he didn't have antlers and his eyes weren't full black. He had bright blue eyes like a human. What had Madison said? Some were still full elf and some were half-human. This one must be the latter. Which meant…

"Yes, Phoebe," the king said glancing at the elf at his side. "Trygve is half-human, as will be our young, when you are ready to have them."

She eyed them both suspiciously. "When I'm ready? You mean I have a choice in something?" That didn't seem to be the case thus far.

He nodded. "You have a choice in everything, though I sense you will choose that which will bring you happiness." Somehow, she doubted they shared the same opinion of what that was. "Trygve and Madison have been mates for one Midgardian year. With our enhanced senses, we can tell when our mates are most likely to conceive and wait to spill within them until that time passes should that be preferred."

Phoebe turned to Madison for confirmation. The woman smiled and said, "I asked for a year to let me get to know him before worrying about children and to see if it would work between us. Tonight, after we stand witness to the ritual, we're going to start trying to conceive." She smirked. "We've had a hell of a time practicing."

They kept speaking of rituals and sacred rites like she had an idea what that meant. All she knew was the more they discussed mating and breeding while the king stood there looking sexy as hell and erect, her body lost focus with remembering how she'd been tricked into being there. How she was ambushed and carried into a different world. Madison said she came through a year ago though. "Why were you brought here the same day of the year as me?" Phoebe asked her.

Madison opened her mouth and slammed it shut again, quickly glancing at the dark elves for their approval to answer. The king nodded once, and she said, "Because Halloween night is only time of the year that fully Midgardian humans can pass through the gateways into Svartalfheim. It's why they are so tricky with their questions to lure us here."

"But…there was something weird going on in my closet for weeks, months even."

The king snorted. "I could enter Midgard at any time. I could have crawled into bed with you if you'd realized I was there and asked, but we prefer having our mates in our own beds, at all times, without worrying about lights burning our skin or having to hide during daylight hours." He pushed away from the wall and stalked toward her. "Enough of this conversation. We shall perform the sacred rites, bonding us as mates, and then, my queen, you will no longer be at the mercy of males who do not appreciate you. Whom you dress up for in this delectable attire while they leave you wanting and needing alone." He pulled her against his chest, tilting her chin up so she faced him. "My queen will never be left wanting. When she needs, she shall receive. Where she goes, she will be cherished. I can promise you all this and more. If you will have me."

Phoebe moaned as he kissed her again, this time wrapping her arms around his neck in acceptance. The king grunted approvingly and kissed her harder. What he'd said—it was everything she'd wanted in a partner. She always chose the wrong men, and every time she got burned. Could she give up everything to be desired and wanted by a dark elf? Madison seemed to enjoy it here. When they were alone, without the men listening to what the woman had said, there hadn't been any sign of discontent.

The king pulled back, and she opened her eyes, taking in the dark depths of his. "Will you accept me, Phoebe? Allow me to show you what you've been seeking and unable to find." He ran his hands over her shoulders, stopping when he cupped her breasts. She shuddered at his touch, and he slipped his thumbs beneath the top of the bustier to caress her nipples as they hardened into points.

Warmth and need flooded her body and she answered, "Yes."

Chapter 4

The elf king led her into a dark chamber lit by a single cluster of crystals. Trygve stood next to Madison near the entrance, and they were holding hands. Phoebe didn't miss the smiles the two shared with each other when they thought they were unobserved. Could she have that same happiness if she stayed here with their king? One of the greatest achievements in life was happiness, and it was often the one thing most taken for granted. She owed it to herself to see this through because, in her own life, she wasn't happy. She put on a front for people, but she had nothing that gave her joy. She wanted joy, and she wanted love. Would one perhaps lead to the other over time?

"Come, my queen. On to the flat stones here." The king held his hand out to her and she took it, allowing him to assist her up to a raised platform. Furs and rugs covered the area. She glanced around, but there wasn't anything else in the cavern. "Do not be afraid," he said in a soothing voice. Then, without looking away from her, he said something in a foreign tongue she didn't recognize.

Phoebe was about to question what that meant, but Trygve stepped forward and pulled a small sack out of a pocket on the side of his robes. He opened the silky bag and produced a necklace. It was onyx like Madison's, or a mineral that resembled onyx, and was covered in glittering blue sapphires.

"It's beautiful," she muttered as the king accepted the necklace.

He smiled warmly and made a spinning gesture for her to turn around. "Only the best for my queen." He draped the necklace over her shoulders and she raised her hair for him to clasp it in the back. After he fastened the jewelry, he placed a gentle kiss to the curve of her neck and shoulder. When she turned around, the heat in his gaze caused her breath to hitch. Such raw desire was heady on its own, and coming from someone who looked like him?

I do want him. She swallowed and stepped closer. She accepted this fate which had befallen her, and her throat went dry at the thought of him moving on top of her. Within her.

The king spoke the language of the dark elves again, and she heard her name. This time, Trygve translated for her as he resumed his place beside Madison. "Do you, Phoebe of Midgard, devote yourself to Eerikki, King of Svartalfheim?"

She looked from one male to the next, realizing there was no backing out of this if she did it. She would be bound to an elf king forever. Yet, instead of thinking of reasons to run, she smiled. His name is Eerikki, and he can be all mine. "I do."

Eerikki's voice grew thick as he continued speaking while he stepped behind her to pull at the ties on the bustier. She started to tell him it zipped on the side, but something about being unlaced and undone by a powerful male made her insides turn to mush and desire skyrocketed through her.

Trygve relayed, "It is done. With the gift of my name and my body, we are bound. Your life and mine, until one should perish." He and Madison made no move to leave the room.

Eerikki, as though sensing her discomfort, whispered in her ear, "They must witness my first thrust and then they will leave, spreading the word that the king has finally found and claimed his queen."

Phoebe shivered as he yanked one last time on the strings and lifted the bustier over her head. She covered her breasts due to their audience.

Her elf king tsked softly and pushed her arms down. "It's important they see you desire me inside you. That nothing is forced." He palmed her breasts while standing behind her and grunted. "Feel how your body responds for me." Deftly, he ran his hands to her waist and pushed the petticoat to her feet, only to groan loudly at the sight of her in nothing but a thong, stockings, and garter belt. He muttered something in his language with a deep, gravelly voice, and moisture between her legs made her want to fidget. She stood still. "Phoebe, walk away now if you do not want this. If we go any farther, I won't be able to back away."

Ahead of them, Trygve and Madison were both breathing a little heavier. Oh my God, this is turning them on. She blinked, startled by the fact that their excitement for what was happening fueled her own instead of limiting it. Perhaps she was into exhibitionism after all and hadn't known it. Biting her lip, Phoebe made a fast decision and turned to face Eerikki. She appreciated being given the option to leave, but now that she'd been tempted, she couldn't walk away. She had to know his touch. His taste.

Eerikki raised his eyebrows, as though he hadn't expected her stay. Her gaze traveled up to his antlers, and she recalled the shadowy stag outside the sorority house earlier in the night. Had that been him as well? Could he take other forms? Both questions for another day. Now, though, she only wanted to please her new mate.

Slowly, Phoebe kneeled in front of him, maintaining eye contact. His lips parted, desire flashing in those black pools of his eyes as he comprehended what she meant to do.

"Is this willing enough for you," she challenged, "Eerikki?" She was delighted with the way his name rolled off her tongue, and used that appendage to lick her lips as she wrapped one of her hands around his erection and placed the other on his thigh.

Phoebe leaned forward and licked the tip of him, marveling at the piercing on the underside of it. How would it feel inside her? She'd always been curious about piercings. With practiced ease, she took him into her mouth, swiveling her tongue around him and drew him in as far as she could. His length was impressive, and longing flared within her as she considered how he'd fill her later. Eerikki cupped her head, twinning his fingers in her hair as his breathing thickened and she worked him with her hand and mouth.

Abruptly he backed away, panting. "We have time to play later. Now, we must complete the rites so Madison and Trygve can leave and I'll have you all to myself." He added in a whisper, "You have put them in quite the state." He gestured for her to turn around. The others were watching them with hooded eyes and Madison had her hand inside of Trygve's robe where it bobbed up and—

Eerikki kneeled behind her, bringing her attention back to the man she wanted inside her as he eased her down to her hands and knees while caressing her between her thighs. "So wet. Shall we remove this offending barrier?"

Whimpering in agreement, she moaned when he tore her thong at the sides and tossed it aside as inconsequential. He ran his hands over her stockings and garters and growled.

"We'll leave these on." Eerikki muttered something unintelligible and then, "You don't know what you do to me." He positioned himself behind her and she jumped in surprise when the cool, slick hoop of his piercing brushed against her clitoris. She didn't have time to think about it before he began feeding his length into her. When he was fully seated, he snarled for the others to leave them, which they seemed all too eager to do. Would they go off and have sex while thinking of them? Her muscles clenched and Eerikki sucked in a breath, pulled back and thrust into her again. The added texture of his piercing caused her to clutch the furs in tight fists as she arched her backside toward him for more.

She lost comprehension of time and reason when he started to gain momentum. The pressure and exquisite fullness had her panting, making sounds she didn't think herself capable of producing. And when she spiraled off the edge of pleasure, coming harder than she ever had before, her dark elf chuckled and eased out of her. She started to protest that he'd yet to finish, and then he eased her all the way down onto the furs and turned her over to face him. Eerikki slid back inside her, covering her with his body, kissing her sweetly, then he rocked against her in a gentle rhythm that sent waves of rapture crashing through her, preparing for another great swell.

His pace increased, as did her breathing, and soon they were both lost in moans of ecstasy and he spent into her while she screamed in completion a second time. Eerikki pulled out of her and settled her against his side, never taking his gaze off her.

This was the passion she'd been missing in life. This was the desire she'd dreamed of but could never find on her own. The king of the dark elves may have stolen her from her world to be his bride, but if Phoebe could do it again, knowing where it would lead, she'd have invited the monster from her closet into her bed months ago and would have followed him into his world without question the moment he asked.

More Books by Rebekah Lewis

-The Cursed Satyroi Series-

Wicked Satyr Nights

Midnight at the Satyr Inn

Under the Satyr Moon

Mercury Rising

Satyr from the Shadows

The Satyr Prince

-Wonderland-

The Vanishing

The Unraveling

-Monsters in the Dark-

The Monster Under the Bed

The Monster in the Closet

-Other Books-

Through the Maelstrom

About the Author

Rebekah Lewis holds a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature. She is also an award-winning cover artist for digital publishers and enjoys every minute of it when not immersed into the worlds of satyrs, Greek gods, and Cheshire cats. Always feeling the need to stay productive, she can be found creating something with words, images, or crafts. She currently resides in Savannah, GA with her cat, Bagheera.

Visit her website to stay up to date on recent and upcoming releases and events, and to find links to follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Pinterest. She also has a newsletter to make staying updated even easier!

For more information:

www.Rebekah-Lewis.com