Read The Dark Huntsman: A Fantasy Romance of The Black Court (Tales of The Black Court Book 1) for Free Online

I can do anything if I have to. Scrub floors, clean up after his horse. One year of labor or death. Not much of a choice, but it is a choice.
    She took a deep breath.
    “Okay.” The word fell out of her mouth.
    It was done.
    Triumph rocketed through his eyes. He stood, hauled her off the couch, and pulled her into his chest. The blanket slid down, her nipples rubbing against the soft silk of his shirt. The thin material caught between her and the heat packaged in his leather pants.
    “A kiss to seal our bargain, milady.”
    She had no time to prepare for his firm mouth. She fought, pushing against his lips with hers, her fists caught between them. The kiss softened and she relaxed in surprise.
    The release was just as sudden. He pushed her away and she fell onto the couch.
    He crossed the room to the door, his mouth twisted, his eyes remote. “Take the first room on the left at the top of the stairs. I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and lock the door,” he called over his shoulder. “My uncles shouldn’t be back until morning, but if they find you here they’ll not hesitate to take advantage.”
    “Wait! Where are you going?”
    He turned, his silver hair decorations chiming, his expression grim. “I’m running out of time. In order for the queen to stop hunting you, someone must set the scene for your false death.”
    “How?”
    “I’m going to set a fire and burn your house down.” He smiled. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back. We have unfinished business, you and I.”
    Trina went weak in the knees. Now that he was gone, she let go of her resistance and sank back into the couch, touching her swollen lips. Damn. One kiss and she was gelatin. Not a good way to start a job .
     

Chapter Three
     
    Logan left the cottage, his blood buzzing from kissing the witch. He greeted the lolling hounds with absent pats and strokes behind their ears all the while cursing the lack of time needed to seduce the wild-eyed beauty.
    Time enough for that after he returned.
    He whistled for Solanum and pictured the witch as she had been during their bargaining session. Waist-long black hair tangled around her face and pale shoulders. Green eyes shadowed with exhaustion, the last vestiges of her power keeping her upright on the couch. She’d wrapped his blanket high around her breasts, seemingly oblivious to the indecent amount of smooth, bare thigh that remained exposed.
    Punishing him with isolation and sending him after a nubile young witch was not the queen’s smartest chess move.
    Look what had transpired.
    Red eyes approached. “Did you do her yet?” Solanum asked, his dark equine form barely visible in the shadows.
    “Crass, even for you.” Logan left off spoiling the hounds and pulled on his leather gloves.
    “Crass sure, but man, it’s been a long time for you. I’d have done her.” Solanum’s eyes gleamed. “That is, unless you had some action in the queen’s dungeons. I’ve heard stories.”
    Logan shuddered, and the puca whickered a low laugh.
    “Luckily for me, the bitch forgot me in a hole.” Finally, after she’d spent far too long making sure he’d remember why he was there. Logan distracted himself from the dark memories with thoughts of his new toy, and how he could use her against the queen.
    “We have an errand to run before it’s time to report to the queen,” he said.
    “Insane. Why would you risk her shutting you up again?” Solanum asked. “Let’s just run wild instead.”
    “If I don’t go back and cover my tracks, she’ll do worse than toss me in the dungeon,” he said. “I could run, but someone, somewhere would find me. I won’t live long looking over my shoulder. And there is the prince.”
    “So fuck the wench, kill her, and move on.” Solanum’s muzzle nudged his shoulder. “I’ll kill her for you, she looks delicious.”
    Not going to happen. Logan had his own plans for the witch, none of which included killing her. The green herbal smell of her silky skin was