Funk-N-Fiction

Today’s guest author Jocelynn Drake chose one of my favorite images of our collection as the inspiration for her Halloween Flash Fiction story! I hope you love all our stories this week, and be sure to check at the end of each one for the contests/giveaways!!

SIREN SONG
A Lords of Discord Short
BY JOCELYNN DRAKE

           

A long, lonely note cried out from a violin. The sound echoed across the empty park. Silvery mist slithered out from the trees and crawled along the ground. The sun had set hours ago, and the city lights alone kept the deep, velvety blackness of the sky at bay.

Rafe Varik lounged on a wooden bench, one foot propped on the space next to him. The bow lightly held between his fingers glided across the strings like a lover’s caress while the violin sang a hauntingly forlorn tune about a soul searching for its other half.

Only a few minutes ticked by before the soft crunch of dried leaves reached his ears. It was too late for trick-or-treaters. The only thing lurking about was prey.

With the instrument still tucked under his chin, the tip of his tongue slid over one fang and a grin spread across his lips as he watched the figure draw closer, following the winding path through the park. He passed under the dirty light of a lamp and his hair shone like golden sunlight against milky white skin.

He kept his head down, his face half hidden in the shadow of his lifted coat collar, but Rafe could still pick out the hint of a smile on pink lips.

He continued to play, drawing the man closer. The notes sped up, tripping and chasing after one another the same way his heart was skipping and bounding in his chest.

Closer. Just a bit closer. You will be all mine.

The figure stopped, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long, dark woolen coat. The black material highlighted the almost pearlescent glow on his pale skin while sparkling green eyes fixed on him.

When Rafe lifted the bow from the strings at the end of the tune. The last note hung in the air, moaning and shivering, before flying off.

“How could one so beautiful play a song so sad?” the man inquired.

“Even beauty can long for the other half of his soul,” Rafe sighed. He turned and tucked the violin and bow away in the case beside his foot.

“I find it hard to believe that you haven’t found your mate. You must have had countless lovers flock to your side. How have you not located this person?”

Rafe smirked, slowly lifting his gazed locked on the creature standing just at the edge of his reach. “I’ve found my mate, but he’s a cruel, heartless man, and he has wandered away from me. I thought if I played the cries of my heart, he might find his way back to me. But alas, I think he has forsaken me.”

Green eyes flared, and it was growing more difficult to not laugh at his own foolish words.

“Forsaken you?” he repeated, with an extra bite to his tone. “If you dared to lose your soulmate so easily, maybe you should consider that he wasn’t worth keeping.”

“Never. Mon amour is the essence of perfection. There is no one in all this world who has a kinder, more generous heart. There is no one who possesses more courage or strength than him. And there is no one who has sweeter lips that whisper words of love and devotion in my ear when we rise each night.”

The man shrugged and half turned away from Rafe as he was planning to continue along the path. “Then the only logical answer is that you drove this amazing creature away. You’ve done it to yourself, and I have no sympathy for you.”

He took one step and Rafe lunged forward in a flash. He grabbed a handful of the back of the man’s coat and pulled while he collapsed onto the bench again. Only this time, the man fell into his lap. There was no chance to move. His arms wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him in as close as possible.

Rafe dipped his head, nuzzling that perfect, pale throat. He opened his mouth, dragging fangs across the fluttering artery, just begging for him to pierce. So close to having that hot, rich blood pouring down his throat, stealing that bit of his lover to hold inside of himself for all time.

“Rafe…” His name was a pleading, needy sound that only urged him on.

“Philippe, mon amour, how could you say such things about me?” Rafe whispered against his flesh. “Even uttering the words that I would drive you away is too cruel.”

Philippe tipped his head back, providing Rafe with better access to his throat. His silken locks spilled over Rafe’s hand, begging him to capture them in his fist. Rafe lifted his head enough to see that Philippe’s lips were parted, revealing sharp, white fangs.

“Are you not cruel as well?” Philippe whispered, seeming to lose himself to Rafe’s kisses. “Accusing me of wandering away from you.”

“I—”

“Is this what you call role playing?” interjected the very last voice Rafe wanted to hear right now.

A soft moan of frustration tumbled from his throat while Philippe shook in his arms with silent laughter. Almost in unison, they turned their heads to see a tall, slender man in dapper suit and bow tie dotted with jack-o’-lanterns standing a couple dozen feet away. His black hair was wild about his head and a confused expression drew lines across his youthful face.

On either side of the man stood a wolf. The largest of the two was completely black, like a fanged shadow, while the smaller was a mix of gray and white. One hand rubbed the head of the black wolf while the fingers of his other hand seemed to caress the ears of the small gray absentmindedly.

Rafe was in no mood for his twin brother Bel and his two shifter lovers. He had his mate in his arms and was seconds away from the most delicious bite.

“Yes, Bel, this is role playing. Or, more appropriate, this is foreplay that you’ve interrupted. I would have thought one of those mutts beside you would have taught you that lesson,” Rafe snarled. 

Bel’s nose wrinkled and his upper lip curled so that the nearby lamplight glinted off a fang. “Please don’t talk about sex and my mates. That’s just… ew. Besides, we have no need for role playing. They are everything that I could ever want or desire.”

Rafe opened his mouth to deliver a crushing diatribe on all the glories of sexual exploration with your mate when Philippe’s hand covered his lips. “I’m assuming Marcus sent you to remind us we’re expected at his place,” Philippe said with a hint of laughter dancing among his words.

“Precisely,” Bel confirmed with a nod.

“I promise that we’ll be along shortly. I won’t allow Rafe to be late.”

The black wolf bumped Bel’s hand as if giving him the nudge he needed. With another nod, Bel turned and walked back through the park with the wolves trotting along beside him. A raven’s caw cut through the silence as a large black bird dove from a tree branch to settle on Bel’s shoulder. Bloody, spying bird.

The hand covering his lips slid away and Rafe turned his attention back to the loveliest green eyes he’d ever stared into. A wonderful smile played on Philippe’s lips, washing away the last bit of irritation caused by his brother and wrapping him in a warmth only his mate could create.

“Now, where were we?” Philippe purred.

“I think I was about to punish you for calling me a horrible mate.” Rafe tipped his head up to place a lingering kiss on the corner of Philippe’s mouth.

“And would this punishment involve making love to me on this park bench until I screamed your name loud enough for all the city to hear?”

“Yes, most definitely.”

Philippe hummed as he captured Rafe’s mouth in a slow, draining kiss that was stealing away the last little bits of his will power. He wrapped his hand around Philippe’s throat, his thumb caressing that frantic pulse. He wanted more, all that he could get from Philippe. Never in his long existence had he thought he’d found a love like he had with this man. Philippe was his everything. His perfect match in every way.

But his lover ended the kiss too soon.

“It will have to wait, my darling,” Philippe murmured, his lips tantalizingly brushing against his own with every word he spoke.

“What?”

“We’re expected.”

“But—”

“I promised to have you there on time.”

“But—”

“You wouldn’t make me into a liar, would you?”

Evil.

Wicked, evil mate.

Cruel, evil brother.

They were all conspiring against him when all he wanted was to see Philippe’s perfect white skin gilded by the lamplight while he writhed against him. Was it really too much to ask?

But a different, more enticing idea was already forming in his mind.

“Fine. We should go now,” Rafe suddenly agreed.

Philippe didn’t budge from where he sat in Rafe’s lap, his eyes narrowed in sudden skepticism. “You’re plotting to drag me away and fuck me in the bathroom again, aren’t you?”

Rafe’s grin grew on his face as he bumped his nose against Philippe’s. “Or you can fuck me in my brother’s bed,” he suggested. “It just depends on how adventurous you’re feeling.”

Shoving to his feet, Philippe immediately turned and extended a hand to him. “I’ll let you surprise me.”

After closing and grabbing his violin case, Rafe threaded his fingers through his lover’s. “Let’s grab a bite on the way to my brother’s. That will give me ample time to think up some delightful surprises.”

Philippe smiled broadly up at him, his fang pressing lightly into his perfect bottom lip. “Anything you wish, my dearest love. Anything for you.”

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Thank you so much for reading! If you would like to read more about Rafe, Bel, and the rest of the Varik brothers, be sure to check out my Lords of Discord. The complete five-book series is available, starting with Claiming Marcus (https://readerlinks.com/l/1570662).

Today’s contest / giveaway is for 5 direct to kindle ebook copies of CLAIMING MARCUS!

To enter to win, answer this question in comments…

What is your favorite mythical creature?

Contest starts today, and our winners will be chosen from all eligible commenters at the end of our event. Winners will be chosen, then announced in our wrap-up post on November 1st.

Good luck!!